Thursday, September 23, 2010

A Man, a Dog, and The Mountain

I awoke to my alarm at 7:07 this morning with one thing on the mind: I'm going to climb a mountain today. When I peaked out the window through my blinds, any remaining doubts were immediately nullified, it was going to be a great day. It was sunny and clear and the air even had a touch of an autumn chill. I ate breakfast, packed a sandwich for lunch and headed out with my traveling companion, Sydney.

Now, I had heard that I could bring my dog on the subway but this was my first attempt to actually do it. When we walked up to the turnstile there was no one around, so we just slipped through. A man waiting for the next train was delighted to see her and then asked me with a puzzled look, "Can you bring her on here?" I guess so! For the first few stops, Sydney was visibly disturbed by the whole experience. She crawled up on my lap and was shaking out of nervousness. However, by the time we reached our transfer station she was more or less fine. On the second train several Koreans spent most of the trip trying to get her attention every few seconds. She sniffed their hands, let them pet her, turned around and returned to my feet to curl up. This process repeated for the next half an hour.

Even before we left the train station I was blown away from the scenery. The mountains seemed to come out of nowhere, right out of the urban landscape. Now, I must confess it felt strange going hiking when you could reach the destination by subway, but I didn't really have much of a choice in this situation, did I?

The Lonely Planet calls the Koreans "The World's best dressed hikers," and I'm inclined to agree. Dobongsan is no Everest, it's approximately 740 meters tall and takes a little over an hour to hike to the peak from the entrance of the park. I wore a tee-shirt and jeans and carried a light backpack for water and my sandwich; I felt horribly, inadequately under-dressed. Everyone I saw, spare for the occasional foreigner, had hiking jackets, pants, boots, walking sticks, hiking backpacks, gloves, hats, etc. On the walk from the train station to the park I could have stocked up at any number of places, had I been so inclined, everything from hiking gear to soju. There was even a Dunkin Donuts at the entrance to the park.

However, we ran into a bit of a snag at the gate, a stern-looking park ranger pointed at my dog, told me, I assume, that I couldn't bring her into the park, and then walked off. I guess he was expecting me to just turn around and head home. Well, we hadn't hauled our asses all the way to the other side of the city to not hike, so we booked it into the park and started our ascent.

The climb itself was great. Most of the trail followed a stream up the mountain, and for the most part it wasn't too challenging. Sydney took well to the mountain, too well, in fact, I had to keep pulling her back so I could keep up. We took a couple of breaks on the way up, and I brought a small bowl so she could drink water.

The summit seemed to come out of nowhere, and the view over Seoul was breathtaking. The size of this city is difficult, if not impossible, to describe. Despite knowledge to the contrary, I can't help but believe this city to be infinite. We stayed at the top for a few minutes, taking pictures, drinking water, and taking in the view, but there was more to see! I had read about a couple of temples throughout the park that I definitely wanted to visit.
BUT we did not make it there. The moment we started back on the trail another park ranger was standing in the middle of the path with another stern look on his face. This would be the end of the line for us, we were sent packing off of this nature oasis in the middle of the metropolis. At first he wanted us to take a different path back down the mountain, and I'm using a very liberal definition of "path." As a matter of fact, I couldn't tell where he wanted me to go, but it looked steep, unmarked, and dangerous. When I tried to point back the direction I came, he objected and pointed back down the mountain. We were at a bit of an impasse: he wanted me to walk off a cliff, and I wasn't too keen on the idea. Thankfully a younger ranger came a along and he negotiated with the old, grumpy man. Then he told me, "I think that way is steep and very dangerous." I agreed. "So maybe you should go back the way you came." So I departed. The old man probably thought if I did that I would just go back to hiking other trails, which, was tempting. However, I didn't need to be told a third time, I decided to play it safe, and head back down the mountain.

We arrived back at Gangdong Station (my stop) slightly before 1 PM, completely exhausted, but happy as could be.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

They Call it Soccer, too

I had originally planned on posting this the next day, but then again, I hadn't been planning on ending up in the hospital. But, better late than never! Enjoy:


September 11, 2010

15:40

So I've been in Seoul for two and a half weeks and have hardly seen the city. I've only crossed the Han River three times--today--and twice to the casino. I had to change things up. Obviously, I'm away from Sydney so much that I hate being away anymore than I have to. I will have to find a balance; hopefully having a permanent place and in-home Internet will help.

Right now I'm riding the #5 line to the World Cup Station on the opposite end of the city. I'm a bit curious how long this journey will take, but I should learn this fact sooner rather than later. I'm on my way to see F.C. Seoul play...um...some other team. Its Foreigner Day, so I'll get a ticket, beer, and a hot dog for only ₩10,000.

...some dude just wandered through the train, yelling, trying to sell some flashlights or something. When I looked around and saw everyone doing their best to try and ignore him, I followed suit.

16:23

On the #6 line now, almost there. Some chick is talking her boyfriend's ear off and he's completely ignoring her while playing a baseball video game on his cell phone. I'm not sure which is the bigger stereotype: the gabbing girlfriend or the unresponsive boyfriend?

17:09

Ticket in hand! This sort of feels like that scene from Caddyshack where they open the pool to the caddies for 15 minutes and all hell breaks loose.



I walked around the stadium grounds and found a small, but nice pitch with dozens of young kids, practicing, all in their F.C. Seoul jerseys. I don't know this with any degree of certainty, but many clubs have feeder programs, often extending down to 6 or 7 year old kids leagues, and I'm betting this was case for these kids. I walked around the pitch, and hoped the parents didn't think I was some pedophile for taking photos of their kids.

When I got into the stadium, I almost immediately spotted Benjamin, a Swedish exchange student I met last week through a couchsurfing event. We watched the game together and complained about the total lack of talent on the field. The first half was a snooze, other than the occasional show from the cheerleaders. The talent was poor all-around, and any goal-scoring opportunity was a result of a mistake.

The venue was a great place to watch the game. Despite the pouring rain, most fans were high and dry under the roof, that extended out over the seats. As the name suggests, it was constructed for the 2002 World Cup, and has a capacity of nearly 70,000. Sadly, even with the large foreigner turn-out, the crowd was tiny in comparison to the stadium. I couldn't help but think about what the stadium was like at the height of competition, particularly while hosting the home team.

The game picked up in the second half, with F.C. Seoul coming alive to route the other guys 4-0. Only one of the goals came on a decent strike, the rest were terrible mishaps on defense, including one inexcusable cross that found its way past three defenders and eventually into the back of the net.

After the game we headed to dinner and then a Western-style bar called "Beer O'Clock" and managed to get a pretty decent pale ale on tap. Arsenal and Bolton were playing, and it was some nice detox to see some Premier League football after watching the sport being butchered for 90 minutes earlier.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

The Royal Pooch

So far, I think I've been asked about how Sydney is doing more often than myself. This is perfectly understandable, she did not choose to come here and living in a small apartment in a huge concrete jungle is not an ideal living condition. Both in coming here and in my day-to-day life, she is my first and foremost concern. When I was debating checking myself into the hospital last weekend because of the price, I asked myself if I would spend that much on Sydney if she were sick, and the answer was decidedly, "Yes."

Aside from the long work days, the worst part about living here is not having a nearby park to go to. She's fine with long walks, but it's good to get her off leash and let her run around too. Also, all the dogs here are of the small, yippy variety--and from what I can tell--not very sociable. I had to go to a workshop today, but before I left I took Syd on a nice walk. We ran into one of the aforementioned small dogs, and for one of the first times since our arrival, the dogs were allowed to sniff each others' crotch and ass to their hearts' content.

When we arrived back from the workshop, I immediately got on my bike and headed home. Everyone else was standing around, asking each other what they wanted to do tonight, etc. When I said I was leaving, I got a few strange looks and for the umpteenth time, I had to explain, "I have to get home to my bitch."* Yes, I have responsibility beyond work and myself. No, I'm not going to make Sydney wait one second longer than she must to go outside. Sydney is waiting for me at the door, and ready to jump all over me and play. That never gets old. She makes it very difficult to have a bad day when I come home to that.

I took her outside, past the disapproving doorman, to find more foreign teachers (from another school) congregating near the street corner. Their faces light up and I hear, "Wow! A big dog!" "A real puppy!" and the like. Only in Asia are Sydney and I are considered "big." One girl, Clara, offers to walk my dog while I'm away after about 3 seconds of conversation. I was prepared to offer big bucks and/or sexual favors, but I kept that to myself for the time being. We then walked about a half an hour down to the Han River Park. It appears to be a thin sliver on the map, but a thin sliver in a city the size of Seoul turned out to be a huge chunk of real estate, and extremely vibrant. Syd and an off-leash Dachshund had a rather humorous exchange: the Dachshund chased and barked at Syd, she turned around to look at him, and the Dachshund ran away. This pattern repeated itself three or four times before we just decided to walk on.

After watching the sun set over the Han River, we found an undisturbed patch of grass, about 30 by 40 yards, and I let Sydney off leash for just the second time in Korea. If you've never seen Sydney run, you are missing out. She has a beautiful stride, it's fast and graceful and she can make turns on a dime. When she runs with other dogs, she'll outmaneuver the rare dog that is quicker than her, and she'll outsmart the even rarer dog that is both quicker and more agile. While I've never wanted to own a farm, she almost makes me want to get a flock of sheep, just so I can watch her herd. She ran perfect laps around this small, open patch of grass, and when I called her over and asked her to sit, she did so with a huge smile on her face. While exiting the park, she looked up at me and smiled, as if to say, "Thanks Dad, I needed that." Truth be known, we both did. When we got home, she ate and then collapsed, spread eagle on the floor. It's always good to be the King, but some days, it's great to be the Dog.

*One co-worker voiced her disapproval at my frequent usage of this phrase. I told her I didn't say it for her enjoyment, I said it for mine. I think it's funny, and will continue to say it.

Friday, September 17, 2010

I'm not dead yet

OK, so a quick update: you will be happy to know that I have made a complete recovery from a really nasty case of tonsillitis (probably strep). It was slow-going at first, only feeling marginally better on my first day back, Wednesday, than I had in the previous two, but I feel back to normal today. The only thing remaining is some nasty acid reflux; I would guess it's a reaction to one or more of the bevy of medication I have taken in the last six days.

Other than that, I have to work one of my two contractually obligated Saturdays during the year tomorrow. It's a workshop with all of the other Korea Poly School teachers from all over Korea. Thankfully it'll be done at four.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Blast from the Past: Camping, Sake, and Naked Irishmen

Originally written October 12, 2006

Good morning (or night to most of you),

I have finally recovered from the long weekend and I am proud to report that I have lived to tell the tale! For some reason I remember having the weekend as a time to rest from the work week and not the other way around, but that does not seem to be the case lately. About once a month we have these extended weekends for various bank holidays, etc so we put our fate (again) in AJET, more precisely in Hayden (remember the picture of the Kiwi passed out at 6 PM on my stairs during the typhoon party? same guy), and took off for a weekend of fun in Hiroshima to absorb some more radiation and sake.

Well, at least that's what he told us. The itinerary was as follows:

Day 1: Drive to Yamaguchi, crash at some JETs' places.
Day 2: Drive to a campsite near Hiroshima for day, sleep in tents.
Day 3: Drive to Hiroshima for sake festival, sleep at hotel.
Day 4: Drive back.
Now here is what "actually" happened:

Day 1 (Friday): Drive from Nagasaki to Yamaguchi (first city on Honshu, the main island) in two vehicles-a rented van with 10 or so people and the other 4 in Larisa's car. The trip was supposed to take 3 hours but only took an hour and a half. David did his best to spice up the trip by proffering his buttocks to the other vehicle in an ancient Irish right of passage called "mooning." We had been promised a good time and places to stay from the Yamaguchi JETs. Unfortunately the 5 rooms we were promised were reduced to two. After several hours of Karaoke we crashed, packed in like sardines in one of our two allotted apartments. I slept on this weird sort of cushion/couch deal. The apartment belonged to a pretty chilled Californian named Sterling (and no, he didn't get it when I inevitably said, "Like Sterling Marlin?") and he was a pretty cool host. Upon our arrival, he took us to a Karaoke bar where there was much merriment to be had.

Day 2 (Saturday): We woke up in some sort of Karaoke haze/hangover. After Karaoke there is only one thought that surfaces, "Did I really sing that?!? And that can be any number of songs (ex: "Did I really sing White Snake?" "Did David and I really sing 'Don't Go Breaking my Heart?' I hope I wasn't Kiki Dee." Further, it must be noted how the film Old School has forever shaped the Karaoke experience). We wound up (after great effort and unceremonious "goodbye's" to our gracious hosts) at a place called Sunday Sun, which can only be described as a Japanese Denny's. After some pancakes and french toast we hit the road again. David, in a (successful) attempt to stave off the impending hangover kept drinking and was back to his mooning ways in no time.
The area where the camp was located was really quite stunning. There is so much development in Japan that you can pretty easily forget that nature exists here as well. Colin, David, Erica (an American from North Carolina) and Susie (a Brit) went on a fairly long hike after our arrival. The area was fairly mountainous so the views were fantastic. We got back in time for the bar-b-que and (aside for David) we were the only sober people at that point. This is when the night turned down hill for me. I would think that at a certain point (sometime after or perhaps even during college) they would get tired of binge drinking. I have no problem with the occasional heavy night but EVERYNIGHT? Ugh. Now, I did not completely abstain but at no point did I find myself peeing off the top of a jungle gym in the center of camp. It got to the point where people were flat-out pissing me off. However, we did hold an impromptu poker tourney and I made a good bit of cash by the end of the night, so I guess it wasn't all bad.

When we turned in, none of us had the slightest clue that this might be the worst night of sleep of our lives. The tents were situated on top of a hardwood floor (for some unknown reason) and with added discomfort of the cold we really could not wait for the morning to arrive. At one point Fleur ended up using my calf as a pillow-I was going to object but her head did provide a good bit of warmth so I let it slide. I woke up with rather large bruises from the hardwood-on both hips, my elbows, my knees, etc. and sandwiched between Colin and Fleur who were both using me for warmth. Good to feel loved. David, on the other hand, slept like a baby even though we had to move him during the night because he was lying diagonally across the tent. Only on Tuesday (ie: after he sobered up) did he admit to having some bruises from that night.

Day 3 (Sunday): Once again I was the first to rise and once I unwedged myself from between Fleur and Colin I went out for a nice walk. In stark contrast to the previous day the sun was shining and the weather had warmed considerably. When I arrived back at the tent site people were just beginning to stir and I knew I was in for a long wait. One of the many reasons I hate large groups is the sheer amount of time it takes to get anywhere. Eventually we hit the road only to find that the camp site was really no where near Hiroshima. Oh, and the sake festival wasn't in Hiroshima either...and it ended at 5 PM. So we, under the impeccable leadership of Hayden, got to Hiroshima...and got lost finding our hotel. They eventually gave up and parked the cars (only to find out much later that they had missed the hotel by all of a block), and we took a train to the sake festival for a whole hour and a half. I was so exhausted, hungry and pissed off that I decided to fore go the sake altogether. I'm not sure where this other city was, but it was nice and they had a baseball team called "The Victorys" which I got a kick out of and not only because it was misspelled.

When we got back in Hiroshima there was a rumor circulating that there was a Subway sandwich shop nearby. I could hardly contain my joy. This rumor was confirmed by both the hotel concierge and one of the Hiroshima JETs. Although they did not have a meatball sub on the menu, I was more than pleased with my ham and cheese foot long. The girl that we went with nearly gave me her half-foot turkey sub, but Colin in a move of ultimate betrayal said, "well that's dumb, why don't you just save it for later." Which, is precisely what I would have done. Colin then asked if I would have felt dumb carrying a half a sandwich around with me all night to bars and what not, but I care not about embarrassment-especially when it comes to good food. The better question would have been, "would everyone else feel dumb when I was eating a turkey sub the next day and they weren't?"

The aforementioned bar, called "Shack" was easily the nicest surprise of the weekend. Most bars in Japan (especially in the Nag) are tiny, but this actually passed as a legitimate bar. Having stopped up for food and coffee I had found my second wind! After grabbing a scotch on the rocks and talking to Colin for a few minutes I noticed a dude and a cute girl waving frantically at me. It was smokey and I certainly didn't recognize the cute chick so I looked behind me to see if it was a mistake, figured it was and went back to drinking. Here, it should be noted that I had been mistaken earlier in the day by a couple of British JETs-one of whom looked strikingly like Matt Damon-if Matt Damon were about 6'3".

I was on the train coming back from the sake festival and this guy came up to me and said, "Hey! you're the bloke who was doing the drumming!"
"What?"
He turned to his friend, and his friend agreed.
"No, that wasn't me."
"Yeah, you were on the stage..."
"At the festival?"
"Yeah!"
"No."
And so it went for several minutes.

Anyway, back to the main story-so after a few more minutes I go to get another drink, walking past the people who had obviously mistaken me for someone else when I hear, "ZACH!" I looked up, and sure enough, it wasn't a mistake, it was Ross (Paul's Friend) who I had not seen since Tokyo. Great, now I felt like a jackass. I excused myself to get another adult beverage, then worked my way back and had a nice chat with him. He too was up for the sake festival but had gone the previous day which made a whole lot of sense in retrospect. We agreed to crash each others' places at some point in the year and parted ways again.* I returned after several more drinks and slept like a baby in the comfort of a legitimate hotel (even if I did sleep on the floor again because of our Leader's insistence on saving a few extra yen).

Day 4 (Monday): Once again, I was first to rise and I made my way down to the coffee shop next to the hotel for some breakfast in peace. I had some overpriced fruit and coffee and read the newspaper-it was great. When I arrived back at the hotel I noticed that the internet in the lobby was free (both as in cost and absence of anyone on the computer) so I jumped on to catch up on sports. Anyone watching at the appropriate moment would have seen my chin physically drop-Tennessee had dropped 51 on Georgia in a surprising come-from-behind win. I was so thrilled that I spent several minutes texting the first couple of verses and the chorus of "Rocky Top" to Dan (along with the final score) out of sheer joy. I had to share it with someone. Dan, being from a) not UT and b) England did not understand whatsoever.

Eventually we worked our way back onto the road. This time David (who was still drinking) made his way to the van which was fine because that gave us more room in the car. The plan had been for me to also switch over to the van because Fleur had to pick up some packages from Fukuoka, but I would wait as long as possible because there is only so much Guns 'n' Roses and Bryan Adams (two of Haydens favs) a man can take. After less than half an hour on the road David and Aaron were completely naked in the van. I spent much of the drive sending Colin remarks via text message (a la The 40-year-old Virgin), "You know how I know you're gay? You are in a van with two naked dudes." I judged his lack of responses as a sign of his displeasure. Well, they ended up forgetting about our little agreement to switch cars so I guess the last laugh was on me...

...How do I tell this story? Well, first it must be noted that Japan inspects everything that comes into the country. And second, that they have rather odd laws about what is and is not allowed in. Anyone recalling the Beef Jerky Incident knows what I am talking about. Well, Fleur's mother had sent a lot of her winter clothes along with some food including this herbal tea from South America called "Coco Tea." Her doctor had recommended it. Well, apparently the Japanese government was not so keen on the idea of the tea getting into the country and spent the next 2 HOURS investigating the matter while Larisa and I waited in another room. They reluctantly let her go, but would not allow her to take the boxes and she has to go back again this weekend for an investigation. She was crying when she got back to us as they kept telling her that she was in "trouble." Whatever that means. They told her as much this week as well. I keep telling her that if they were going to arrest her they would have already done so, but this doesn't seem to comfort her much. Not that I can blame her in the least bit. In the end, I'm glad that I got stuck in Fukuoka because I at least have a much better story to tell. How this crazy story will end, I have no clue-so please stay tuned. Oh, and please don't send me tea.

Well, we got back rather late on Monday night completely exhausted from the long weekend. I think we all decided this would be the last such weekend of debauchery for a while and parted ways. It was a long, strange weekend and I have finally learned my lesson to never let Hayden plan as much as a trip to the park in the near future. I have turned my attention to our next big break over winter holidays and the "Golden Week" in May.** This time I will be planning the trip and with only a handful of carefully picked friends. The great thing about organizing something like this is a) no one wants to do it so they implicitly trust you (bwahahaha!) and b) you can do what you want. Everyone, send love and look for another e-mail soon on the unexpected difficulties of teaching at elementary schools!

From The People's Socialist Republic of Japan with love,
-Zach

*Editors note: I've neither seen nor heard from Ross since this random meeting.
**Editors note: No such trip was planned.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Night and Day, Day and Night

I awoke this morning feeling absolutely identical to yesterday morning. In a word, miserable. I rolled out of bed, used my stolen wifi to e-mail my boss to tell him that I couldn't come in again today. I go back to sleep only to have a knock on the door. It was one of our Academic Coordinators, Lina. Lina is a Canadian-born Korean, and a former nurse back in Canada. She told me that she had heard about my condition and asked if I would be up for going to the doctor. She assured me this doctor spoke a decent amount of English. I told her I needed to take Sydney out, but I would be ready to go in a few minutes. On the way out of the building the doorman bitched at me about my dog, again. I was tempted to invite him to the doctor so he could have a stickuptheassectomy performed.

We jumped in the cab with two other teachers from my school, and upon arrival walked across the street to the clinic. Lina stayed with me and helped me fill out forms, and talk to the doctor when his English was not proficient. Unlike the last time, the doctor (GASP!) actually looked at my throat and immediately made the assessment, "Tonsillitis." When I looked up the ailment on wikipedia later, I discovered that it could be caused by a variety of viruses and bacteria, though the most common bacteria was strep. They gave me an extra large injection of antibiotics, straight in the tuckus. A nurse took me into another room, had me lay down, pull down my shorts, spanked me a few times, and then...nothing. I literally felt nothing. Incredible. Granted, a little while later it was a bit sore, but hey.

They asked me to come back for the next three days for more injections and gave me antibiotics to take home. Even without my medical insurance card, the whole thing cost less than $25. The symptoms have begun to waiver, going from just as painful as before to tolerable. I felt great as I walked out of the doctor's office initially. I had an answer and a course of treatment. They were kind, and I had an interpreter. Finally, I didn't have a sadistic nurse who insisted on redoing my IV after three hours, despite my pleas against it. Hopefully I'll be able to work tomorrow.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Hospital, New Apartment, and Not Yet Settling In

September 13, 2010

15:55

I don’t want to be writing this blog. No, I wanted to be writing about the awesome time I had at the F.C. Seoul soccer match on Saturday. However, I’ll have to save that blog for another day, because I found myself stuck in a hospital for four hours after coming down with a fever and a very sore throat on Sunday. As for right now, it still feels like I’m swallowing large pieces of shattered glass but my fever seems to have subsided. I’m pretty sure I have strep, but the doctors didn’t do any tests last night.

When I was admitted, they showed me to a bed in a large room with a dozen or so beds. One man was there after, I assume, some sort of accident, as his face and knee were torn up pretty good. One woman across from me was whining about getting an injection in her elbow, and an older lady was puking her guts out in the opposite corner. I don’t generally don’t like to go to the hospital or doctors office if I can at all help it. When the next flu pandemic or superbug comes through, hospitals will be the first and hardest places hit. Anyway, they took my blood pressure, took my temperature, and listened to my breathing. The doctor then asked if I wanted an IV. Normally, I would have said “NO!” but if my Japan experience taught me anything, it’s generally best to just go with the flow. I was a little disappointed that they didn’t test for anything, and when I asked if they were giving me antibiotics, the nurse told me “For fever and pain.” I ended up staying at the hospital for four hours, they gave me four bags of this stuff, which was completely ineffective. Finally, I just told the doctor, “I have to get home.” They took my temperature one last time, and sent me on my way with a few days worth of painkillers and antibiotics.

I would say the worst part of this experience was being alone for the ordeal. I’ve not really been home sick yet, but I would have loved some company other than Thomas Friedman. I’ve not had a fever for about 12 hours, but my throat is as sore as ever. Thankfully, I got today off from class. I showed up (because I have no phone or Internet), taught the first 20 minutes of class until they could find a substitute for me, and I bounced. And allegedly I will be moving into my new place. Next update will be better.

17:47

So, I'm actually moved into my new place, but, and it's a big but, they might not let me stay here because of my dog. Fucking great. I knew it was going to be a problem as soon as we pulled up and I saw the look on the face of the front desk guy. He immediately started grilling Joe, our Korean-Canadian Vice Director, about my dog. "Does she bark? Is she noisy? etc." When I got to my floor I heard a small, yippy dog barking its head off and I thought, "And that's OK?" Joe told me that The Man said they usually allow dogs, but only small, "puppy" dogs. Or maybe it's because I'm white. Who knows. They're going to try to work it out, but I might be on the move again if they can't.

I still feel like death warmed over, and I still can't swallow. Ugh.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Putting it in Perspective

September 9, 2010

22:42

It was a bit of a surreal experience watching my coworker, Chris, have such a horrible day. He’s leaving Korea Poly School after 4 years this week and the school more or less reneged on a promise to him. He had been told that yesterday would be his last day teaching classes, and tomorrow would be a day off for him and his wife to prepare to leave the country. Due to our long hours, there is no possible way to take care of certain weekday errands such as visiting the pension office, going to the bank, or sending packages home through the post office. Chris and his wife are flying out Wednesday, so there was absolutely no way for him to take care of these very necessary activities without a day off.

This morning he arrived to school and thought it would be a simple observation day, only to find out that he would be teaching instead. The would-be replacement teacher had been hauled off for his medical examination for the Alien Residency Card, and Chris was expected to jump into the classroom without any prior warning. As the day wore on and news arose that there had been an undisclosed issue with the health examination, the Director pulled Chris aside and asked him to come into work on Friday, his day off. Obviously, he felt betrayed, angered, and all-around baffled by this sudden turn of events.

This issue reverberated around the office and affected everyone. We all knew that this could, and inevitably, would, happen to us. We knew that we constituted little more than warm bodies, and that any little luxury that had been granted could and would be taken away from us at a moment’s notice. It had already happened to me with the apartment debacle. I was set to move in right up until the moment when I wasn’t.

We know we have it much better than most foreign teachers in Korea. Yes, we work long hours and a lot is demanded out of us, but we are well paid and treated relatively well. We know the opportunities for beginning or continuing our career back home are few and far between, and we are lucky to be working and saving money when so many of our friends and family members are struggling to make ends meet. All of this said, it’s disturbing to watch these events unfold and be left wondering, “What next?” Another coworker, Albert, said it best, “You just have to keep your head down, make your money, and get out.” Along this same note, the teacher I replaced, Kevin, had this nugget of wisdom (and according to everyone at the office, his only nugget of wisdom), “I left the picture of the beach on your desk. When this job gets to you, just look at it and remember why you’re here.” Between classes, I always look at this picture. For me, it’s not about the beach, it’s what the beach represents: the achievement of my own goals through hard work and long hours at Korea Poly School.

As I said last week, I actually like this job, long hours and all. I go into the classroom and I forget about why I’m here in the first place, and know that I’m working toward a better tomorrow. I keep telling myself not to take the bullshit too seriously, and enjoy the experience. In this, I take solace.

September 11, 2010


10:42


So an interesting post-script to this story. Our new teachers, a couple, were detained at the health inspection because they were told that the woman had HIV. They were left to freak out for a day until they were called back and told "a mistake" had been made. So I guess my apartment deal ain't so bad after all.

It looks like it may have stopped raining for 30 seconds or so, I'm going to run home and get my dog for a walk. Tonight is "Foreigner Night" at F.C. Seoul (Football Club...and the type of football you play with your feet, for those keeping score at home), so I'm going to hit that up. For ₩10,000 (about $8.50), I get a ticket, beer and a hotdog. Not bad.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Blast from the Past: I am not currently, nor have I ever been a member of the Communist Party

Originally written May 14, 2007

Somewhere between the growing economic powerhouse of China to the north and the developing Southeast Asian powers of Vietnam and Thailand to the east and west, respectively, lies the small, landlocked nation of Laos. Technically it's the Lao People's Democratic Republic, and yes, whenever a nation has either "People's" and/or "Democratic" and "Republic" together in the title, you know you are entering a communist country. The trip was my first to SE Asia and included a couple of brief forays into the bustling Thai city of Bangkok during what essentially amounted to two long layovers at the beginning and end of the trip.

Our first mission in Bangkok was to try and hunt down some coveted anti-malaria medication. You see, the only medication available in Japan is: a) highly ineffective, b) must be taken for months prior to leaving and after coming back to be highly ineffective, and c) has a bevy of common adverse side effects including…well just about everything including (but not limited) to psychosis. Oh, and d) even our Japanese doctor advised us not to use it. SOOOO, we bounced around from pharmacy to pharmacy and eventually ended up at a hospital trying to find the drug that our doctor recommended only to be told by our Thai doctor that: a) we didn't need the medicine, b) they didn't have it even if we did need it, and c) he would gladly treat us if we got sick. We finished the night by buying an expensive and very touristy dinner and then retiring to an inexpensive (but nice) hostel.

The plane ride into Luang Prabang was beautiful, even if I was constantly being correct by Sandy. "Wow, look at those palms!" I would say, only to get a reply in a thick Trini accent, "Dos a coconut trees."

"How can you possibly tell from 5000 feet!?"

"I'm from da Carribean, rememba?"

She then explained in detail where I had gone wrong in my assumptions. It had something to do with height and shape of the tree. She pointed it out later when were on the ground, but I'm still at a loss.

When I received my Lao PDR visa in my passport, I was both pleased and distraught to see that I only had one fully blank page remaining in my passport. Those full-page ordeals that a lot of countries are using will fill up a passport in a hurry. I have two from China (we had a group visa on our first trip and they didn't even give me as much as a stamp), one from Russia (I quite like this one because it has my name in Cyrillic—when I first received it I exclaimed, "THEY SPELLED MY NAME WITH A '3!'"), and a work visa from Japan. In fact, Japan is taking up the better part of four pages in my passport because of my numerous departure and reentry stamps, along with a "landing permission" sticker and a half-page "multiple re-entry visa." And now finally a full page visa from Laos.
I knew I would like Laos before I even passed customs. Several of the officers were playing solitaire on their computers instead of checking people's papers. That evening we started off our adventure by climbing a mountain that was overlooking the city to enjoy the sunset and then enjoyed the local night market and a candle-lit dinner. Well, the dinner was not supposed to be candle-lit, but the power went out in the city for a solid three hours. Our tour guide told us that power outages were rare but I guess our definition of "rare" differed from his as there were several more throughout our stay (including the very next night).

The next day we went bike riding and I sent out a somewhat sentimental e-mail about my beloved Milwaukee Brewers (now 24-10 and 7 games up in their division!!!), but you knew that already.

Honestly, I would have been content to have biked around all-day, everyday of the trip.
In the next couple of days we visited several temples and the former palace of the king (before being overrun with communists). We also took a boat ride up the Mekong to visit a cave that had something like 4000 Buddha statuettes in it.
This is when the adventure became fun—we took a three-hour hike through the wilderness; dodging snakes, every insect known to man, and several leeches (which we thankfully found attached to our tennis shoes and not ourselves). At the end of the hike there was a large waterfall with refreshing, perhaps too refreshing, cold water in which we could have a swim. In situations such as this, I am reminded about how wonderful an invention the bikini is. But I digress…

That night we stayed in a guest house further down the river, had the subsequent day off, and on the next we went elephant riding. My elephant was a bit of a rebel—or grotesquely stupid, one of the two, I can't figure out which. All the other elephants stayed in a nice, neat line while mine saw fit to take various alternate paths such as, say, through a tree. We finally limped our way back into town (about 15 km) with a 3-hour kayaking trip on the sloooooow River Nam Khan. On the day of our flight out we made one last excursion to a school in Luang Prabang. Some of the kids were from far away villiages and had to live in small, wood huts during the week. They arranged for us to teach an English class and the experience was great and much more rewarding than teaching in Japan. Many people might see the way English is taught throughout the world as a bad thing, but for these kids it offers a way out. Besides, it's almost inevitable that SOME language would have to become the global language with the emergence of our ever "Flattening" world—we were just lucky in the fact that it is our native language.

The trip was amazing, but it had to end and now I'm back in Japan. It's amazing that I now see Japan as "boring" but I think a large part of that is because I live here—I've found that people always have an urge to dump on where they live. In Nagasaki the schools have been preparing for Sports Day which means that they have cancelled all classes from Tuesday afternoon on. The Japanese do not play sports, they work at them. Thankfully my school is just letting me work at my desk today (doing such all important things as writing long e-mails and working on my project). Yesterday my school asked me to wear "athletic clothes" so I could help the students prepare. So you can imagine my amazement when I asked how I could help and my supervisor replied, "You should come outside and watch…and think." Yes, that was me yesterday…sitting on the sidelines thinking. My brain started to shutdown after about 15 minutes.

Let's see…there was something else I was going to…OH! Yeah, I now have both a myspace and a facebook page. I am a big fat sell-out. For years and years I resisted. I would yell, "I'm not joining your internet cult!" Alas, I did. I still have a sneaking suspicion that everyone on myspace will be found dead, wearing black Nike tennis shoes, in a mass suicide about 20 years from now. Anyway, my info is:

www.myspace.com/kingofzachland

Befriend me, send me comments, etc, etc, etc…

I fought technology and technology won…

Well, as always, I hope all is well back home (or wherever you are). Send lots o' love.

[Editor's note: While King Zach maintains the opinion that a social networking site will be the downfall of humanity, clearly myspace was not up to the task. Also, this column dated itself severely by the inclusion of any myspace reference].

Money for Nothin' and Grad School for Free

On our walk this evening, an old man saluted Sydney. In other news:

Interesting development, I found out over the course of a couple of beers with a Swedish Couchsurfer that grad school in Scandinavia is free to foreigners. Free. FREE. I had to confirm this rumor through a quick google search this morning, and yep, it's true. While grad school in Europe was on my radar, Scandinavia was not. However, given the possibility of free education, it has popped up with a rather large "blip." From what I have read, the classes are available in English as well: absolutely incredible. May the God that you (or, for that matter, I) don't believe in bless your socialist souls. While it is true that I am not a fan of cold weather, I'm sure I could stick it out for 2-4 years to get my masters and/or PhD.

I've learned the importance of having an escape plan in life, and an integral part of any escape plan is knowing where you are going next. Could Scandinavia be the next place for me? Time will tell, but for now it has jumped into the lead for my next great adventure (of course, after I complete THIS great adventure).

Oh, and I know Finland is in Scandinavia and their flag isn't included above, but if I wanted to move to a place where suicide is in the Top 5 of national recreational activities, I would just move back to Japan.

Friday, September 3, 2010

A Day in the Life

I've often compared living abroad to being an alcoholic: you have to take things one day at a time. There are great days. GREAT days. Days where you are just amazed at all the sights and sounds and new experiences and new friends. And there are bad days. BAD days. Days where you are lowered into the depths of despair, frustration, and loneliness.

The ups and downs of life are often difficult to deal with under "normal" circumstances, but while abroad these can be amplified by a factor of 10. Wednesday was a great day. Friday? Not so much. Here's what I wrote following my first day of actually teaching:

September 1, 2010

22:20

While waiting for the train to arrive at Cheonho Station after work, I felt something akin to a runner’s high. I was exhausted but felt surprisingly good. Now, we’ll see how my body holds up to the grind of a 10+ hour day, every day, for a year, but for now, I feel great. When I first found out the schedule, I had a certain sense of dread stemming from my own self doubt. Could I do this for a year? Could I continue studying Korean? Could I accomplish what I came here to do, or would this just be a repeat of Japan? Could I become one of the “Midnight Runners?”*

Of course, all of these questions can be answered by none other than me. The key is to keep a positive outlook and remind myself on a daily basis that this experience is about one thing and one thing only: self improvement. Self improvement is inherently painful, but necessary. Let the little annoyances go, and get as much joy as humanly possible from the little pleasures.

So in light of these doubts, why am I so happy after completing just one day? I think more than anything it represents a change: I’m not going to be working to merely survive, but to thrive. I have my much-needed stability, something that was unimaginable prior to landing this job. I can put the past behind me, worry about today while thinking of the future, and become a creature of habit. I wake up, walk the dog, eat, go to work, come home, let the dog out, blog, study Korean, go to sleep. The simplicity is beautiful. My energy goes into my work, my self-improvement, and my dog. Right now, this is just what I need.

*A wonderful euphemism for those who break contract one night after work, and are on a plane home before the next work day.


Great, right? I had answered many of my own self-doubts; I realized this was a job I could do, despite the exhaustion. I was even surprised at how the exhaustion felt good.

So then yesterday rolls around, and it was a tough pill to swallow. I had been told I would be moving into my permanent place on Thursday, only to have the rug pulled out from under my feet due to a pesky typhoon. Or so I was led to believe. On Friday I learned that a new guy, fresh off the boat, moved into the apartment that had been set aside for me. I had been taking the apartment situation with a very easy going "Whenever it happens, it will happen" attitude, but that changed abruptly with this most recent development. I had been flat-out lied to, and now the consequences of not having a permanent place, namely limited access to Internet and the more intangible "settling in" aspect bothered me much more than it had before.

By lunchtime, my glands had swollen and I had a sore throat. Uh-oh. I tried to rationalize it, "Oh, my throat is probably sore from talking in class all week." I was feeling OK for most of the day, and was looking forward to a staff dinner with all of my new coworkers. I couldn't go straight from work because I had to let my dog out. Although I had no idea where this place was, a coworker said he would meet me back at the school in an hour and go to the restaurant together. "Great!" I thought. I get back to the school an hour later, the doors are locked, the lights are out, and the dude is nowhere to be found. And my throat is really starting to hurt. So I take the train back home, pissed off, take an Advil Cold and Sinus and pass out.

Today is a new day, and despite feeling like crap, I think I'll explore the city later. While I started this blog with a Beatles reference, I'm feeling strangely compelled to leave you with a newer reference. Or a New Wave reference. The coffee shop I'm sitting at is called "Take On Me," so without further ado...



When abroad, you have to enjoy the little things.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

The Typhoon and the Case of the Missing Apartment

September 2, 2010

11:06
Typhoons must love me. During my first month in Japan, I experienced two; now, one week into my stay in Korea, get get slammed. I pretty much slept through the whole ordeal but most of my coworkers were not so lucky. This morning on my short walk to the subway station I saw broken windows, trees down, and ruined building facades. According to word on the street, three subway lines were shut down from the flooding.

Despite all of this, I arrived right on time to work, only to find the school eerily quiet. Only two people were here, both new, and we quickly began wondering what was going on. We discovered that our coworkers had received texts telling them not to come to work until 10. Since none of us newbies have phones yet, we couldn't receive the message. The phones and Internet were down at the school, only adding to the mass confusion. The storm seems to have dissipated and we're sitting around bored, waiting for the students to arrive.

Allegedly I will be moving into my permanent place today, but in light of current events, we will see.

14:26
Update: I'm not moving today. The new word this time is that I'll be moving mid-September, but to a nicer place. We'll see.

September 3, 2010
Update #2: Just found out from a coworker that my apartment was giving to a new guy. A newER guy than me. I wasn't annoyed before, but I sure am now.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

A Night in the Casino

August 31, 2010

23:14

It always feels good to walk out of a casino with more money than you arrived with—as if you beat the system. Tonight, was one of those nights. My coworkers invited me out to the Walker Hill Casino, in the basement of a Seoul City Sheraton, for some after work fun. I arrived early and sat down at a poker table. Almost immediately, I knew I was in trouble. The old adage, “If you can’t spot the sucker, it’s probably you” seemed completely applicable. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve played with some great players, but these guys were pros. They played at this casino every night and sat with a well-deserved sense of authority and entitlement. I was going to have to play my best to get out of here alive.

My first big break came on a hand early on; I was in the big blind with Q-7 and the flop came down Q-9-6 with two hearts. He bet, I called. A 7 came rolling off on the turn. He increased his bet, I called again. Finally, another 7 rolled off on the river giving me a full house, 7s full of queens. He bet, I raised him all in. There were a few tense moments when he tried to get a read on me. He asked me if I had a straight. He asked me if that 7 helped me. Finally, he called. I flipped over my full boat, and he showed me his 8-7 of hearts. The poor bastard had flopped an open-ended straight flush draw and had missed everything (except for trip-7s, which really only got him in more trouble). While I was ahead the entire hand, he was the favorite to win the hand after the flop.

After a short time, a rather loose, boisterous Chinese guy sat down next to me. I knew I was no longer the sucker at the table. My initial read would prove correct as I would win one more big pot on the night, courtesy of the aforementioned Chinese loudmouth. He was tilting after a bad beat (nut-flush taken down by a straight flush, enough to send the most level-headed of us into a spin). I had J-9 of hearts when the flop hit 7-5-3 with two hearts. I bet, and he came over the top with a weak raise. I called with my 15 outs. I hit one of my outs, a jack, on the turn, and he goes all-in. I immediately call. He flips over pocket 6s. While any card other than a non-heart 6 or 4 would have been just fine and dandy, I complete my flush anyway and dragged in a sizable stack of chips.

When all was said and done, I turned 250,000 won into 376,000 and walked away from the casino with my head held high. When you add in the free food and drinks, it was an excellent night. I finished the night by sitting at the roulette table, content to watch my coworkers and drink a jack and coke.

Blast from the Past: First Day in Zurich...

Originally written March 10, 2008

First of all, let me apologize in advance on the very real possibility that I will inadvertently use a "z" for a "y" or vis-versa. Or if I inexplicably use any one of the following characters: ö, ä, ü. I äm gingerlz picking mz waz through this Swiss kezboard wherein there are numerous extra characters and the z and y are reversed.

That said I am in Zurich safely, albeit without the majority of my belongings. You see, there was absolutely horrendous weather in the New York area (along with the majority of the Northeast and Midwest)which caused me to very nearly miss my connection (quite an achievement really, considering I should have arrived with about three hours to spare). After circling for a long while they finally cleared us to land, and when we finally broke through the ceiling, it became obvious to anyone paying attention (thankfully including the pilot)that there was no way in hell that we would be landing this plane...that is unless one would consider "crashing" a reasonable substitute. So we pulled back up and circled some more.

I had to run to my gate where they were in the process of boarding. Naturally I asked the gentleman at the gate whether my luggage would be transferred(seeing how I knew my baggage, aka Valerie, would be on the flight). He assured me, along with a nice Swiss man that transferring the luggage would not be a problem. Do you ever know you are being lied to, but you know there is nothing you can do about it? Yeah, well I figured I would rather be in Zurich sans belongings than in New York
with them.

Long story short, I end up in line with the aforementioned nice Swiss man in Zurich to report lost luggage.

Other than that, things are going swimmingly. Valerie had had her seat assignment changed...which was a nice moral victory (let's call it "seat chicken") for me. I ended up sitting next to a wonderful Hungarian lady who spoke about 5 words of English. She was quite excited when she found out that I was going to Budapest (or as she said, "Budapesht") and she talked my ear off about it...in Hungarian. I smiled and nodded. Well, it's turning out to be a wonderful, sunny day in Zurich so I am going to get off this damned computer. Stay tuned for more updates, same bat time, same bat channel.