I spent the first day in Kuta which is very touristy. The beach is nice but its crammed with cheap clothing and nik nak stalls. There are also more surf shops here than in all Sydney put together!
We were lying on the beach at sunset watching the classic postcard sunset, like wow, and all of a sudden the military trainees jog by along the waterfront in full uniform with machine guns or semi automatics or something scary looking slung over their shoulders. Very very trippy in such a full on tourist place!
The second day we met this surfie dude, theres a lot of them, who told us to go to this beach on the penisular where all the surfers go cause there's an amazing reef break. Spontaneous leap into a taxi and Trina and I, one of the women I'm teaching with, are in the middle of nowhere, struggling down this huge cliff to homestays on the beach, facinating rockpools and grottos and peace and quiet. Perfect.
For the past week we've been based just out of Ubud staying in a beautiful house overlooking a deep gorge and swimming hole. mmmm. You can hear the waterfall at night and stare at rice paddies all day if we were'nt learning so much. In the morning we have 3 hours of Indonesian and i've learnt more language here in three days than I did in Thailand in three months, which is a bit of a relief since I'm going to be spending the n3xt 6 weeks in a small village called Baturiti. Trina and I will be living with the village headman which will be really interesting. Yesterday we had class at the market in Gianyar where Hannah will be teaching.
The other night Hannah and I had this indulgent massage where you're in this room overlooking the rice paddies and after being massaged in an oil of frangipani, lavender, jasmine and maybe geranium we got covered in this tumeric ginger and clove exfoliant, scrubbed down and then covered in yogurt before hopping into a bath filled with petals while drinking ginger tea and eating fruit. Mangoes are in season at the moment and I'm in heaven!
Tomorrow we finish classes and then are heading out to the beach for a couple of days before being dropped in our repective villages. I gave a mock lesson today in teaching class and realised how difficult this will be at first. The schools I'll be teaching at haven't had any real exposure before so I'll probably be starting from fresh. I'm excited about the learning curve for
me and them and looking forward to hanging out in the country with space and quiet.
#2 life in Baturiti
I'm living in a small town called Baturiti with Ketut, the Kepala Desa (village head), Ninin his wife and their youngest son Krishna. Ketut has a restaurant just up the road where tourists come and eat and enjoy the vista over the terraces, vegatables not rice, and his son Aguss who's my age and married has another overlooking Pura Ulan Danu Bratan, one of the more famous temples in Bali, 20 minutes up the hill in Bedugal. So they're pretty comfortable, to put it
mildly, extremely generous and Trina and I, the other teacher living here, are very spoilt.
We've been here about three weeks now and have another three before the program finishes. My daily routine goes something like this : get up at 6 and greet the sun, enjoy yummy Balinese coffee whilst writing my journal, teach from 7:30 until 11:00 and then I have the rest of the day free. Often I'll come here for a swim before heading to Ketut's restaurant for lunch.
Here is a place called Bali Camp, an American-Balinese initiative which is kind of a software development centre and set up like a conference centre. Nestled into the side of a hill below is an amazing swimming pool with an overflow extending into smaller rockpools. It overlooks more terraces and in the afternoon when the cloud rolls in you can just see the occasional banana and palm tree silhouetted through the mist. The first time I came here it was a bout 5
in the afternoon, rapidly going dark and I realised I'd just been dropped into the middle of faeryland. It's truly magical annd I get to come here whenever I want. Hee hee!
Baturiti is in the middle of Bali, cradled by the lower slopes of the mountains. They grow tonnes of vegetables here, the rainy side of the mountains and have a speciality to the area called rice tea. basically it's roasted red rice. Just add boiling water, lots of sugar and stir. It's really good and the locals are very proud of it, frequently explaining that you can't get it in other parts of Bali! Further up in the mountains bali's best coffee and cloves are cultivated, so we don't go short for anything, except maybe a little sun sometimes!
Yesterday Putuh and Nyoman took Trina and I to Kuta to the longed for sea and sand and surf. Haven't swum in the ocean for a couple of weeks and it was fantastic to get all salty. We went to a really nice, and surprisingly cheap restaurant afterwards where they gave us free back massages after dinner. I think favours were asked as no one else in the restaurant seemed to be benefiting.
The hospitality of the Balinese is famed but still underrated. Perhaps because we're teaching voluntarily and are guests of a pretty important guy, but people seem to be bending over backwards to be nice to us. Last weekend Aguss, Ketut's son, and his wife Irama, invited four of the teachers from the programme to their house in Denpasar. They organised for us to see
a Kecup Dance (same same one of the early scenes in Baraka where the men are seated in a circle performing mad vocal percussion and waving their arms around) on Friday night, took us out to dinner, a Barong Dance sat morning and then we went up to Kintmani to eat at Aguss' friend's restaurant and stare at the volcano. Sometimes it just never stops and then it does and its so peaceful and beautiful.
So I'm enjoying teaching and learning lots and enjoying when I'm not teaching and life is pretty
perfect right now. The last year or so has been pretty difficult but I feel I've finally arrived at a place in my head where everything is working out.
This morning I walked into class and every single kid could pronounce TH as in thirty three and a third. Last week we spent a fair bit of time working on it and I really didn;t think that many would get over the embarrassment of me making them stick their tongues out whilst they said it! So maybe these plans of teaching and travelling aren't so far-fetched!
So now I'm going to try and get back home which might be interesting because bemos stopped running at least 15 minutes ago at 4 and are pretty impossible in the afternoons anyway. But there's always someone asking where are you staying. "Oh Ketut J.! I take you there". Everyone knows and respects this guy. Totally sorted!
mildly, extremely generous and Trina and I, the other teacher living here, are very spoilt.
We've been here about three weeks now and have another three before the program finishes. My daily routine goes something like this : get up at 6 and greet the sun, enjoy yummy Balinese coffee whilst writing my journal, teach from 7:30 until 11:00 and then I have the rest of the day free. Often I'll come here for a swim before heading to Ketut's restaurant for lunch.
Here is a place called Bali Camp, an American-Balinese initiative which is kind of a software development centre and set up like a conference centre. Nestled into the side of a hill below is an amazing swimming pool with an overflow extending into smaller rockpools. It overlooks more terraces and in the afternoon when the cloud rolls in you can just see the occasional banana and palm tree silhouetted through the mist. The first time I came here it was a bout 5
in the afternoon, rapidly going dark and I realised I'd just been dropped into the middle of faeryland. It's truly magical annd I get to come here whenever I want. Hee hee!
Baturiti is in the middle of Bali, cradled by the lower slopes of the mountains. They grow tonnes of vegetables here, the rainy side of the mountains and have a speciality to the area called rice tea. basically it's roasted red rice. Just add boiling water, lots of sugar and stir. It's really good and the locals are very proud of it, frequently explaining that you can't get it in other parts of Bali! Further up in the mountains bali's best coffee and cloves are cultivated, so we don't go short for anything, except maybe a little sun sometimes!
Yesterday Putuh and Nyoman took Trina and I to Kuta to the longed for sea and sand and surf. Haven't swum in the ocean for a couple of weeks and it was fantastic to get all salty. We went to a really nice, and surprisingly cheap restaurant afterwards where they gave us free back massages after dinner. I think favours were asked as no one else in the restaurant seemed to be benefiting.
The hospitality of the Balinese is famed but still underrated. Perhaps because we're teaching voluntarily and are guests of a pretty important guy, but people seem to be bending over backwards to be nice to us. Last weekend Aguss, Ketut's son, and his wife Irama, invited four of the teachers from the programme to their house in Denpasar. They organised for us to see
a Kecup Dance (same same one of the early scenes in Baraka where the men are seated in a circle performing mad vocal percussion and waving their arms around) on Friday night, took us out to dinner, a Barong Dance sat morning and then we went up to Kintmani to eat at Aguss' friend's restaurant and stare at the volcano. Sometimes it just never stops and then it does and its so peaceful and beautiful.
So I'm enjoying teaching and learning lots and enjoying when I'm not teaching and life is pretty
perfect right now. The last year or so has been pretty difficult but I feel I've finally arrived at a place in my head where everything is working out.
This morning I walked into class and every single kid could pronounce TH as in thirty three and a third. Last week we spent a fair bit of time working on it and I really didn;t think that many would get over the embarrassment of me making them stick their tongues out whilst they said it! So maybe these plans of teaching and travelling aren't so far-fetched!
So now I'm going to try and get back home which might be interesting because bemos stopped running at least 15 minutes ago at 4 and are pretty impossible in the afternoons anyway. But there's always someone asking where are you staying. "Oh Ketut J.! I take you there". Everyone knows and respects this guy. Totally sorted!
#3 these here are crazy times
Life in Bali is weird since the big kaboom! Agus, the son of the man I stay with has a restaurant in a prime tourist spot. Their cliental has droped from about twenty buses a day to about four or five cars and hotel occupancy for next month is forecast at 15%.
Ouch. Everyone you talk to, especially the westerners, was either in Kuta when it happened or knows someone who was.
I was in Ubud on the weekend and that was deserted. Last time I was there it was school holidays back in oz and the place was absolutely packed. We drove into town and it took ages to get from one side to the other on a motorbike. Now the place has a spooky feel.
Sitting overlooking the rice fields on Sunday morning thinking about how lucky I am and what an excellent mob of friends I have.
Last weekend I went up to Lovina on the north side of the island where the beaches are black from all the volcano activity. Actually thy're a murky brown until they get wet and then they look amazing. I got some cool photos of fisherman on the beach and a cool kid called Kadek and his friends I spent some time playing soccor with. Also have a cool shot of a chicken on the
beach. Yup I've seen some weird stuff over the past few years but that one definitely made my head turn until I saw a pig wandering along next to the water!
On Saturday night I went out with a guy called Wayan to one of the villages away from the tourist scene to drink cheaper arak (the local rice wine) and sing Balinese karaoke (well listen to everyone else) before we headed back into town to the Reggae bar where the beer is much more expensive.
The next day we went out to the Buddhist Temple, maybe the only one on the island, I'm not sure. I spent some time inside meditating and trying to ground. The day before a full moon, all my friends are about to bail the country and I was having a few issues appreciating the amazing beauty around me and feeling a tad on edge. Anyway, the temple sorted my head out and then
we went to the local hotsprings which I think had a lot of sulpher in them and made my skin feel amazing. All in the most lush tropical garden. On the way home to Baturiti we stoped at a tiny organic restaurant overlooking the rice terraces in the middle of nowhere and I ran into this guy called Ron that I went on a crazy three day motorbike ride with out to Kampot in
eastern Cambodia about 2 1/2 years ago. Small but crazy world!
On monday, the full moon, the family I'm staying with had the Odalan for their family temple. Its basically a big ceremony for the temple anniversary. This one was one of the important ones that happens every 3 Balinese years. I think! A Balinese year is composed of six months of thirty five days each. a very different calendar. So trina and I were dressed up in Kabayas and Sarongs and I had to wear a stretchy girdle like thing designed for a Balinese woman with
ribs two sizes at least smaller than mine. On the way over it was difficult to breath and in the scorching heat of the afternoon I went from very quicky being honoured to wear the traditional clothes and participate in the ceremony to being ready to kill someone for a baggy pair of shorts. No, despite the heat and the long wait for the priest it was an amazing expereince. There were so many offerings of so many different colours and I learnt how to pray, well
the ritual of praying and participated in a noisy procession down to the local spring to collect holy water. The next day, the family who are all up and about when I get up at six, were nowhere to be seen at seven when I was eating breakfast. It was reassuring to know Trina and I weren't the only ones exhausted by the day! This morning I was watching the dogs follow
Renny around the family compound as she layed out all the offerings. Usually they eat then as soon as they are put down, but the one outside my room both dogs sniffed at and left, as did the sparrows, so I'm not sure what the spirits will think of it that they're meant to appease!
I had the last of my classes at SD1 today and got mobbed by the kids as I was leaving. It was really touching and made me forgive them for being very trying sometimes! I think almost every one of my students gave me a pen and the teachers gave me this huge wooden carving of Garuda, brightly painted that I'm not sure how I'm meant to carry. I think I will leave it at the central house in Ubud as a warning to future teachers of what to watch out for!
Ouch. Everyone you talk to, especially the westerners, was either in Kuta when it happened or knows someone who was.
I was in Ubud on the weekend and that was deserted. Last time I was there it was school holidays back in oz and the place was absolutely packed. We drove into town and it took ages to get from one side to the other on a motorbike. Now the place has a spooky feel.
Sitting overlooking the rice fields on Sunday morning thinking about how lucky I am and what an excellent mob of friends I have.
Last weekend I went up to Lovina on the north side of the island where the beaches are black from all the volcano activity. Actually thy're a murky brown until they get wet and then they look amazing. I got some cool photos of fisherman on the beach and a cool kid called Kadek and his friends I spent some time playing soccor with. Also have a cool shot of a chicken on the
beach. Yup I've seen some weird stuff over the past few years but that one definitely made my head turn until I saw a pig wandering along next to the water!
On Saturday night I went out with a guy called Wayan to one of the villages away from the tourist scene to drink cheaper arak (the local rice wine) and sing Balinese karaoke (well listen to everyone else) before we headed back into town to the Reggae bar where the beer is much more expensive.
The next day we went out to the Buddhist Temple, maybe the only one on the island, I'm not sure. I spent some time inside meditating and trying to ground. The day before a full moon, all my friends are about to bail the country and I was having a few issues appreciating the amazing beauty around me and feeling a tad on edge. Anyway, the temple sorted my head out and then
we went to the local hotsprings which I think had a lot of sulpher in them and made my skin feel amazing. All in the most lush tropical garden. On the way home to Baturiti we stoped at a tiny organic restaurant overlooking the rice terraces in the middle of nowhere and I ran into this guy called Ron that I went on a crazy three day motorbike ride with out to Kampot in
eastern Cambodia about 2 1/2 years ago. Small but crazy world!
On monday, the full moon, the family I'm staying with had the Odalan for their family temple. Its basically a big ceremony for the temple anniversary. This one was one of the important ones that happens every 3 Balinese years. I think! A Balinese year is composed of six months of thirty five days each. a very different calendar. So trina and I were dressed up in Kabayas and Sarongs and I had to wear a stretchy girdle like thing designed for a Balinese woman with
ribs two sizes at least smaller than mine. On the way over it was difficult to breath and in the scorching heat of the afternoon I went from very quicky being honoured to wear the traditional clothes and participate in the ceremony to being ready to kill someone for a baggy pair of shorts. No, despite the heat and the long wait for the priest it was an amazing expereince. There were so many offerings of so many different colours and I learnt how to pray, well
the ritual of praying and participated in a noisy procession down to the local spring to collect holy water. The next day, the family who are all up and about when I get up at six, were nowhere to be seen at seven when I was eating breakfast. It was reassuring to know Trina and I weren't the only ones exhausted by the day! This morning I was watching the dogs follow
Renny around the family compound as she layed out all the offerings. Usually they eat then as soon as they are put down, but the one outside my room both dogs sniffed at and left, as did the sparrows, so I'm not sure what the spirits will think of it that they're meant to appease!
I had the last of my classes at SD1 today and got mobbed by the kids as I was leaving. It was really touching and made me forgive them for being very trying sometimes! I think almost every one of my students gave me a pen and the teachers gave me this huge wooden carving of Garuda, brightly painted that I'm not sure how I'm meant to carry. I think I will leave it at the central house in Ubud as a warning to future teachers of what to watch out for!
#4 transitions
Now in Thailand. Well Khao San Road anyway, almost Thailand!
Sitting here nursing the fading remains of a particularly evil Songserm hangover, that or someone hit me over the head with a baseball bat and I'm really confused. Boy this monitor screen is bright!
Caught up with Jenny and Andy last night, fellow teachers from Bali, also passing through this manic part of the world. I've been here a day now and feel completely at home. It's really good to be back in Thailand but I miss Bali already.
It's hard to believe its only two days since I was sitting on Kuta Beach, empty except for the hopeful hawkers with ice chests full of icy cold coke and water. The faithful and their boards are out in the water appreciating the near perfect sets rollng in with joyous regularity - I'd love to come back here (oops, go back) get a job and learn to surf. Fell off a friends board several times a few weeks ago, but just riding the foam on a surfboard is so much faster and more exhilerating than a boogie board. So maybe one day!
After a crazy last week of teaching with all my kids giving me their pens and ceremonies where the teachers thanked me very formally and talked amongst themselves about me at great length in Indonesian, I went to Lombok for a few days to check out another part of Indonesia and chill on the beach. It was really quiet. Like a couple of people at the bars in the evening and
empty restaurants, compounded by Ramadan which meant that people were rushing off to pray more regularly than usual.
I went out to Gili Trewangan, one of three islands off the north west coast of Lombok. The snorkling was amazing, thousands of different kinds of fish of a million different colours teeming all around and below me. The water changes abruptly from turquoise to ultramarine as the bottom drops off quickly to a couple of metres deep, coral stetching out about 30 or
40 metres from the beach and then a big wall dropping down to the sea floor and the main channel between the gilis (islands).
After being dogged by temptation for the past couple of months I was finally persuaded to give in and jump on a boat and go out for a dive. The first ten or twelve metres was a nightmare as my ears screamed at me and I fought back the panic. Its two years since I did my open water and my confidence was a tad lacking. But they buddied me up with a divemaster who was
really patient and then we saw a turtle swimming away from us, a dark silhouette against a translucent sea and I was in paradise. A few minutes later we saw a shark and I chased after it, my clumsy fins being no match for its graceful own. I kept getting left behind as different amazing things caught my attention: fish dancing around each other, a huge sea cucumber that
looked like the front of RMIT Storey Hall or the crazy new building opposite Flinders Station. I saw another turtle ambling along the coral below and dropped in to a respectful distance to soak in some of the wisdom radiating from her wizened face. Reflected on the difficulty of breathing when your lips are stretched between both ears. On the boat on the way back started
having bizarre thoughts about the grammar of diving. What's the past tense of the verb to dive? Is it dived or dove? Is dived past continuous and dove past perfect? If someone with a dictionary would let me know that would be fantastic.
Crazy thoughts continued on the plane the next day. Looking at a still frame of a plane on the tv that looked like it was falling out of the sky I realised I didn't know why they don't. Started thinking about sail theory, high and low pressure systems and I've just figured out basic aerodynamics and I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself!
But I was feeling a bit tripped out anyway. Riding to the airport with Agus and Irma "Zombies" came on the radio and I had strange flashbacks of being in Thailand and not wanting to leave but having to go home because Dad was really sick. Now I was in Bali and really wanted to stay but "visa habis" and short of an expensive trip to Singapore and back or a job miraculously presenting itself (unlikly in the extreme with no qualifications and no tourists) I just had to
jump on that early morning flight.
What sort of sadist schedules a flight for 12:05am and makes you arrive in Bangkok at 3am (4am my time) with no sleep and guesthouses trying to charge you a whole days rent to sleep in a room before 7am.
So now I'm feeling brave enough to challenge breakfast and win (or is it lunch?) and then figure out the rest of the day.
Tomorrow I have to see a man about a dog or a woman about a job. Might have a few days casual work as I figure out what I'm doing here in Thailand and the meaning of life. Feel like I'm waiting for something important to happen but it hasn't found me yet. Two years after I left everything changes and everything stays the same. Or maybe everything just changes. Miss
Dad a lot at the moment and I need to find a way to be near the water. But first I need to eat.
Sitting here nursing the fading remains of a particularly evil Songserm hangover, that or someone hit me over the head with a baseball bat and I'm really confused. Boy this monitor screen is bright!
Caught up with Jenny and Andy last night, fellow teachers from Bali, also passing through this manic part of the world. I've been here a day now and feel completely at home. It's really good to be back in Thailand but I miss Bali already.
It's hard to believe its only two days since I was sitting on Kuta Beach, empty except for the hopeful hawkers with ice chests full of icy cold coke and water. The faithful and their boards are out in the water appreciating the near perfect sets rollng in with joyous regularity - I'd love to come back here (oops, go back) get a job and learn to surf. Fell off a friends board several times a few weeks ago, but just riding the foam on a surfboard is so much faster and more exhilerating than a boogie board. So maybe one day!
After a crazy last week of teaching with all my kids giving me their pens and ceremonies where the teachers thanked me very formally and talked amongst themselves about me at great length in Indonesian, I went to Lombok for a few days to check out another part of Indonesia and chill on the beach. It was really quiet. Like a couple of people at the bars in the evening and
empty restaurants, compounded by Ramadan which meant that people were rushing off to pray more regularly than usual.
I went out to Gili Trewangan, one of three islands off the north west coast of Lombok. The snorkling was amazing, thousands of different kinds of fish of a million different colours teeming all around and below me. The water changes abruptly from turquoise to ultramarine as the bottom drops off quickly to a couple of metres deep, coral stetching out about 30 or
40 metres from the beach and then a big wall dropping down to the sea floor and the main channel between the gilis (islands).
After being dogged by temptation for the past couple of months I was finally persuaded to give in and jump on a boat and go out for a dive. The first ten or twelve metres was a nightmare as my ears screamed at me and I fought back the panic. Its two years since I did my open water and my confidence was a tad lacking. But they buddied me up with a divemaster who was
really patient and then we saw a turtle swimming away from us, a dark silhouette against a translucent sea and I was in paradise. A few minutes later we saw a shark and I chased after it, my clumsy fins being no match for its graceful own. I kept getting left behind as different amazing things caught my attention: fish dancing around each other, a huge sea cucumber that
looked like the front of RMIT Storey Hall or the crazy new building opposite Flinders Station. I saw another turtle ambling along the coral below and dropped in to a respectful distance to soak in some of the wisdom radiating from her wizened face. Reflected on the difficulty of breathing when your lips are stretched between both ears. On the boat on the way back started
having bizarre thoughts about the grammar of diving. What's the past tense of the verb to dive? Is it dived or dove? Is dived past continuous and dove past perfect? If someone with a dictionary would let me know that would be fantastic.
Crazy thoughts continued on the plane the next day. Looking at a still frame of a plane on the tv that looked like it was falling out of the sky I realised I didn't know why they don't. Started thinking about sail theory, high and low pressure systems and I've just figured out basic aerodynamics and I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself!
But I was feeling a bit tripped out anyway. Riding to the airport with Agus and Irma "Zombies" came on the radio and I had strange flashbacks of being in Thailand and not wanting to leave but having to go home because Dad was really sick. Now I was in Bali and really wanted to stay but "visa habis" and short of an expensive trip to Singapore and back or a job miraculously presenting itself (unlikly in the extreme with no qualifications and no tourists) I just had to
jump on that early morning flight.
What sort of sadist schedules a flight for 12:05am and makes you arrive in Bangkok at 3am (4am my time) with no sleep and guesthouses trying to charge you a whole days rent to sleep in a room before 7am.
So now I'm feeling brave enough to challenge breakfast and win (or is it lunch?) and then figure out the rest of the day.
Tomorrow I have to see a man about a dog or a woman about a job. Might have a few days casual work as I figure out what I'm doing here in Thailand and the meaning of life. Feel like I'm waiting for something important to happen but it hasn't found me yet. Two years after I left everything changes and everything stays the same. Or maybe everything just changes. Miss
Dad a lot at the moment and I need to find a way to be near the water. But first I need to eat.
#5 river life
"You'll understand when you come my way cause all of my demons have withered away"
Okay, I've figured out a way to get a Balinese smile out of the more shy Bangkokians (Bangkokites?) Jyab?
Basically, this evening I'm walking home from my brand new job down a new (to me) street to my newish home listening to a not so new Fat Boy Slim CD. I've got a goofy grin across my face and my walking is really a strut come dance! And I'm sure all the Thai are thinking "bar (new word for today) falang." Don't quote me one the spelling and I think I like "gila", the indonesian word for crazy, better but bar will do just fine being careful to put the intonation into your eyes not the sound of the word!
So I'm finally feeling pretty settled here in Thailand. I think what I wasn't looking for found me
and I'm seriously tempted to stay here in bar Bangkok for a few months, make some headway into this language that confused me so much last time I was here, and have a generally good time. I'm pretty sorted right now. I'm staying at at guesthouse right on the river next to the new and architecturally impressive Rama 8 bridge. It's one of those places you have to be
introduced to cause otherwise you'd never find it and most of the people here are staying medium to long term; lots of teachers, including MEEEE!
Yup, after years at uni laughing at all the suckers who got a Dip. Ed on top their degree and saying "Never" cause then I might accidentally end up back in school, the place I hated so much, I'm back and kinda enjoying it.
Today I had my first day of training for a fun company called Fun Language who are going to pay me pretty decent money on the scale of BKK teaching wages to goof around and play games all day. Hee hee hee! Basically they work in classrooms without furniture inside the kids schools teaching from 3 to 13 year olds. And literally, all of the teaching is based around playing games and getting the kids to have fun so they don't stress out about learning. Its pretty cool. I get to wear pants and a very stylish "fun language" polo which is soo much
cooler than all the fake Ralph Lauren ones they're selling on Khoa San. Which is kinda funny cause I seem to have turned into a girl since I arrived in Thailand and own all these skirts and a pretty top or two. Yup, you heard right! Work pays at the end of each month which is pretty nice. A lot of places pay in arrears to discourage people from doing runners, so now I can
worry about my stomach instead of my bank balance.
I've lost so much weight since arriving in BKK. I seem to spend so much time wandering around in the heat and humidity getting lost! A couple of days ago I had these really bad cravings for MacDonalds fries until I finally realised my body was craving salt. Oh yeah,
and foodwise, theres an excellent vego restaurant around the corner from my guesthouse and an even better one down the road from the office. Sorted.
So last night was full moon and Loi Kratong "the second biggest festival in Thailand" as I got told about twenty times yesterday! There are a couple of varying reasons I've heard for the festival; one is to give thanks for the rains (which are finishing up) another is to make recompense for all the disrespect paid to the river by, get this, floating thousands, nah, millions of offerings mounted on polystyrene down all the rivers in Thailand. So I'm living right on the river okay! Nice one. We're staying across from a big park where they're having this huge party broadcast right across the nation. Fairy lights, wicked fireworks and lots of food. I wandered over there early in the evening to check it out. Surpisingly I'm
one of the few falang and lots of cameras pointing at me. So now I'm famous, but not for being Roxette or David Beckham like in Bali. There's hundreds of boats chugging up to this one point in the river (next to us) to offload all the Kratong (offerings). And people have paid serious money to have dinner on all the tourist boats to check it all out and we're just having a casual barbie and downing a few beer Leo. I still haven't figured out which is worse, Leo or
Chang. My stomach was feeling pretty unsettled this morning as I got up this morning bright and early for my first day of work and waded through the remaining flood waters to the ferry.
And I was worried about not being close to the water. This morning I caught a ferry across the river to the school to meet fellow teachers, then we got a taxi back across to the office on the other side of town after school and I caught a canal ferry back home.
There's this awesome little canal that I've just discovered (or been shown more honestly) that runs right from near where I stay, east to where I work. The ferry has a spring loaded roof that collapses to get under the super low bridge and tarps up the side to protect you from the super scungy river water. The Chao Praya makes the Yarra look like spring water. It's a murky mocha colour and has untold amounts of crap floating down it. But in the evening when the sunsets
its a pretty pinky colour and during the day the blue reflection from the sky contrasts nicely with the coffee! I really like watching all the river hubbub in the evening; after the ferries stop running and swamping the banks with wash, squid lady comes out and plies the people at the restaurant next door with her delicacies. She runs up and down in this tiny wooden boat with a rack of dried squid and a little fire or cooker on the boat to cook it.
Okay, I've figured out a way to get a Balinese smile out of the more shy Bangkokians (Bangkokites?) Jyab?
Basically, this evening I'm walking home from my brand new job down a new (to me) street to my newish home listening to a not so new Fat Boy Slim CD. I've got a goofy grin across my face and my walking is really a strut come dance! And I'm sure all the Thai are thinking "bar (new word for today) falang." Don't quote me one the spelling and I think I like "gila", the indonesian word for crazy, better but bar will do just fine being careful to put the intonation into your eyes not the sound of the word!
So I'm finally feeling pretty settled here in Thailand. I think what I wasn't looking for found me
and I'm seriously tempted to stay here in bar Bangkok for a few months, make some headway into this language that confused me so much last time I was here, and have a generally good time. I'm pretty sorted right now. I'm staying at at guesthouse right on the river next to the new and architecturally impressive Rama 8 bridge. It's one of those places you have to be
introduced to cause otherwise you'd never find it and most of the people here are staying medium to long term; lots of teachers, including MEEEE!
Yup, after years at uni laughing at all the suckers who got a Dip. Ed on top their degree and saying "Never" cause then I might accidentally end up back in school, the place I hated so much, I'm back and kinda enjoying it.
Today I had my first day of training for a fun company called Fun Language who are going to pay me pretty decent money on the scale of BKK teaching wages to goof around and play games all day. Hee hee hee! Basically they work in classrooms without furniture inside the kids schools teaching from 3 to 13 year olds. And literally, all of the teaching is based around playing games and getting the kids to have fun so they don't stress out about learning. Its pretty cool. I get to wear pants and a very stylish "fun language" polo which is soo much
cooler than all the fake Ralph Lauren ones they're selling on Khoa San. Which is kinda funny cause I seem to have turned into a girl since I arrived in Thailand and own all these skirts and a pretty top or two. Yup, you heard right! Work pays at the end of each month which is pretty nice. A lot of places pay in arrears to discourage people from doing runners, so now I can
worry about my stomach instead of my bank balance.
I've lost so much weight since arriving in BKK. I seem to spend so much time wandering around in the heat and humidity getting lost! A couple of days ago I had these really bad cravings for MacDonalds fries until I finally realised my body was craving salt. Oh yeah,
and foodwise, theres an excellent vego restaurant around the corner from my guesthouse and an even better one down the road from the office. Sorted.
So last night was full moon and Loi Kratong "the second biggest festival in Thailand" as I got told about twenty times yesterday! There are a couple of varying reasons I've heard for the festival; one is to give thanks for the rains (which are finishing up) another is to make recompense for all the disrespect paid to the river by, get this, floating thousands, nah, millions of offerings mounted on polystyrene down all the rivers in Thailand. So I'm living right on the river okay! Nice one. We're staying across from a big park where they're having this huge party broadcast right across the nation. Fairy lights, wicked fireworks and lots of food. I wandered over there early in the evening to check it out. Surpisingly I'm
one of the few falang and lots of cameras pointing at me. So now I'm famous, but not for being Roxette or David Beckham like in Bali. There's hundreds of boats chugging up to this one point in the river (next to us) to offload all the Kratong (offerings). And people have paid serious money to have dinner on all the tourist boats to check it all out and we're just having a casual barbie and downing a few beer Leo. I still haven't figured out which is worse, Leo or
Chang. My stomach was feeling pretty unsettled this morning as I got up this morning bright and early for my first day of work and waded through the remaining flood waters to the ferry.
And I was worried about not being close to the water. This morning I caught a ferry across the river to the school to meet fellow teachers, then we got a taxi back across to the office on the other side of town after school and I caught a canal ferry back home.
There's this awesome little canal that I've just discovered (or been shown more honestly) that runs right from near where I stay, east to where I work. The ferry has a spring loaded roof that collapses to get under the super low bridge and tarps up the side to protect you from the super scungy river water. The Chao Praya makes the Yarra look like spring water. It's a murky mocha colour and has untold amounts of crap floating down it. But in the evening when the sunsets
its a pretty pinky colour and during the day the blue reflection from the sky contrasts nicely with the coffee! I really like watching all the river hubbub in the evening; after the ferries stop running and swamping the banks with wash, squid lady comes out and plies the people at the restaurant next door with her delicacies. She runs up and down in this tiny wooden boat with a rack of dried squid and a little fire or cooker on the boat to cook it.
#6 wow!
For the Melbies, just had to share this one: looked across at the computer terminal next to me and there's a really beautiful ad for a Beverly Fundraiser at Ace Morning. huge waves of homesickness rushing past. Nah, not really but its really nice to get a flash fromhome like that. I was reading a freebie BK tourist publication yesterday and there was a big article on Melbourne in it, raving about its most livible city status and I wonder why on earth am I in Bangkok?
Today I saw my first dead dog floating down the Klong (canal). I knew they were to be found to to see one is something else! It was all puffy and bloated and floating as if it was standing up a foot below the water line, its head half submerged as was its body. The romanticism of riding the canal has long since passed. Now I see it for the open sewer it really is, flinch at being touched by the water and try to hold my nose against the stench!
However, on a beautiful note, I just got back from a visa run and four days in Laos. Wow! There's a place I could live very happily. A rainbow of green and tranquility. but very much "progressing"! They have real roads and real buses now which detracts from its charm but is probably a lot nicer for the Lao who wish to move around. This also means a lot more tourists
and related development and the untouched river I floated down two years ago now has
many bungalows crawling up the banks of the river from town and an obnoxious collection of riverside bars insisting on blaring out of date dance music across the valley. Why I ask you? Bloody farang and their influence! But at least they stay in one spot!
Unlike me, after a myriad of minor crises and a not so minor housing crisis I'm now living on the other side of town really close to work. Yeah for not having to leave the house at 6:30 to get in for 8. I'm staying with Nordin a really sound german guy who's been living here for a while trying to scratch out a living, which isn't easy when you're not Thai or a native english speaker. We're in the middle of a maze of Soi (small alleyways) about twenty minutes walk
from Emporium, the most lavish shopping centre I've ever seen. Prada, Gucci, DKNY, Channel, all rubbing shoulders. The cars on the street around are at least 50% BMWs Mercs Audis Hondas etc. So yeah, I'm right of the edge of the rich bit of town but living in a cute villa complex. There is a row of flats on either side of the courtyard where the boys play this game thats like volley ball but with feet and heads only. I've forgotten what its called. At the end is a garage with a room on top 6x4 glass tinted sliding doors with two concrete walls. This is where I sleep and play; overlooking banana trees and beautiful Thai wooden architecture with so much sky in my face when I wake up. You have to come through the flat and down some
stairs to get to it so I'm safe and isolated but in the middle of everything! I bought a mozzie net last night and slept with all the doors open and the breeze coming through. Its like sleeping outside and very beautiful. Have lucked out again.
Today I saw my first dead dog floating down the Klong (canal). I knew they were to be found to to see one is something else! It was all puffy and bloated and floating as if it was standing up a foot below the water line, its head half submerged as was its body. The romanticism of riding the canal has long since passed. Now I see it for the open sewer it really is, flinch at being touched by the water and try to hold my nose against the stench!
However, on a beautiful note, I just got back from a visa run and four days in Laos. Wow! There's a place I could live very happily. A rainbow of green and tranquility. but very much "progressing"! They have real roads and real buses now which detracts from its charm but is probably a lot nicer for the Lao who wish to move around. This also means a lot more tourists
and related development and the untouched river I floated down two years ago now has
many bungalows crawling up the banks of the river from town and an obnoxious collection of riverside bars insisting on blaring out of date dance music across the valley. Why I ask you? Bloody farang and their influence! But at least they stay in one spot!
Unlike me, after a myriad of minor crises and a not so minor housing crisis I'm now living on the other side of town really close to work. Yeah for not having to leave the house at 6:30 to get in for 8. I'm staying with Nordin a really sound german guy who's been living here for a while trying to scratch out a living, which isn't easy when you're not Thai or a native english speaker. We're in the middle of a maze of Soi (small alleyways) about twenty minutes walk
from Emporium, the most lavish shopping centre I've ever seen. Prada, Gucci, DKNY, Channel, all rubbing shoulders. The cars on the street around are at least 50% BMWs Mercs Audis Hondas etc. So yeah, I'm right of the edge of the rich bit of town but living in a cute villa complex. There is a row of flats on either side of the courtyard where the boys play this game thats like volley ball but with feet and heads only. I've forgotten what its called. At the end is a garage with a room on top 6x4 glass tinted sliding doors with two concrete walls. This is where I sleep and play; overlooking banana trees and beautiful Thai wooden architecture with so much sky in my face when I wake up. You have to come through the flat and down some
stairs to get to it so I'm safe and isolated but in the middle of everything! I bought a mozzie net last night and slept with all the doors open and the breeze coming through. Its like sleeping outside and very beautiful. Have lucked out again.
#7 feeling jealous yet?
Happy New Year and all that jazz. My new year was pretty quiet, kinda downtime between bangkok and here. Here is a place called Pelau Rebak, a small island totally devoted to a marina just off Pelau Langkawi below the Thai-Malay border. Pelau is the word for island incidentally in Bahasa Malay, which further incidentally is really similar to bahasa Indonesia so
I can say a little bit more than "hello", "thank you" and "no worries" which is kinda nice.
Going back a little bit in time, I spent Xmas with some nice folks just out of BKK. Nordine, my chef flatmate in BKK spent five hours roasting a turkey at the request of some mutual friends and we had a pretty typical eating and drinking too much day. Unfortunately I had to work Xmas Eve and Boxing Day but the Thais, for some reason unbeknown to me, get the two days before and New Years day off, which considering the two days before this are the weekend
amount to a five day holiday and lots of people heading out of BKK on friday evening. Instead I got paid and quit my job and left on the Sunday evening, the earliest I could get a train ticket south. I went down to Koh Phang Ngan, the most popular backpacker island in the gulf of Thailand, and headed up to Than Noi Pan, one of the beaches up the north east of the
island to hang out with my mate Andy and some of his friends for New Year.
Lots of storms and rains meant I piked on the Haad Rin major party option cause I was lame and didn't want to get stranded away from my bed in the middle of the night and pouring rain. Besides I was still trying to chill out and slow down from the hectic BKK pace and wasn't up for a big party. A couple of days later and a few swims across the bay and I bailed and came down
to malaysia.
The deal: I'm going sailing with a rich yankee lawyer called Leslie on his really nice boat up to Phuket, back in Thailand. I think I've hinted to a few people but have been scared off jinxing myself cause it all seemed really uncertain until I finally arrived. His boat just came down off the dry dock and in return for really nice food and alcohol I'm helping clean up the boat whilst he goes off and placates clients back home via the laptop I'm currently sitting on wired up to the bar; a carlsberg next to me cause they've run out of tiger. It's so nice to have real beer again
after the crap in Thailand. Yesterday we got the stove and the motor working, which meant real coffee in the mornings (i'm carrying Lao and Balinese with me, yum) and a motor out of the harbour yesterday for the first time. Tomorrow we get the rig happening, and if nothing goes wrong will spend the next couple of days sailing around the island checking that everything works before heading up the coast.
So life at the moment is pretty damn nice. In fact I think I'm in paradise. I'm singing for my supper, but the food is good and the environment around the west coast of the Thai-Malay peninsular is stunningly beautiful, lots of limestone cliffs, aqua water and fishers hanging out trying to foul the prop with their nets. So this is January for me! Hmmm, life's tough.
I can say a little bit more than "hello", "thank you" and "no worries" which is kinda nice.
Going back a little bit in time, I spent Xmas with some nice folks just out of BKK. Nordine, my chef flatmate in BKK spent five hours roasting a turkey at the request of some mutual friends and we had a pretty typical eating and drinking too much day. Unfortunately I had to work Xmas Eve and Boxing Day but the Thais, for some reason unbeknown to me, get the two days before and New Years day off, which considering the two days before this are the weekend
amount to a five day holiday and lots of people heading out of BKK on friday evening. Instead I got paid and quit my job and left on the Sunday evening, the earliest I could get a train ticket south. I went down to Koh Phang Ngan, the most popular backpacker island in the gulf of Thailand, and headed up to Than Noi Pan, one of the beaches up the north east of the
island to hang out with my mate Andy and some of his friends for New Year.
Lots of storms and rains meant I piked on the Haad Rin major party option cause I was lame and didn't want to get stranded away from my bed in the middle of the night and pouring rain. Besides I was still trying to chill out and slow down from the hectic BKK pace and wasn't up for a big party. A couple of days later and a few swims across the bay and I bailed and came down
to malaysia.
The deal: I'm going sailing with a rich yankee lawyer called Leslie on his really nice boat up to Phuket, back in Thailand. I think I've hinted to a few people but have been scared off jinxing myself cause it all seemed really uncertain until I finally arrived. His boat just came down off the dry dock and in return for really nice food and alcohol I'm helping clean up the boat whilst he goes off and placates clients back home via the laptop I'm currently sitting on wired up to the bar; a carlsberg next to me cause they've run out of tiger. It's so nice to have real beer again
after the crap in Thailand. Yesterday we got the stove and the motor working, which meant real coffee in the mornings (i'm carrying Lao and Balinese with me, yum) and a motor out of the harbour yesterday for the first time. Tomorrow we get the rig happening, and if nothing goes wrong will spend the next couple of days sailing around the island checking that everything works before heading up the coast.
So life at the moment is pretty damn nice. In fact I think I'm in paradise. I'm singing for my supper, but the food is good and the environment around the west coast of the Thai-Malay peninsular is stunningly beautiful, lots of limestone cliffs, aqua water and fishers hanging out trying to foul the prop with their nets. So this is January for me! Hmmm, life's tough.
#8 Surfing in Phuket
Arrived in Phuket yesterday after the nicest day of sailing so far. Strong tailwinds in the morning blew across the the rolling seas following and sometimes catching us. Unfortunately the day before the boom vang got sick, that's the bit that keeps the boom down, so we had to trim the main in close instead of out on a beam reach where it would have been much
happier.
We pulled into Boat Lagoon, one of two marinas on the island after anchored in the lee of a gorgeous island opposite, waiting for the tide to rise so we could get in. I swam across to the island with a dry bag and procured cold beer and some really pretty shells. Later on we ate at a fancy restaurant over looking the biggest motor launches I have ever seen in my life. The restaurant was kind of like something you might find around the toaster end of the quay, Japanese minimalist decor with a stunningly designed menu to match and yummy gourmet food. Luckily I wasn't paying. The night before was in stark contrast and in many ways much nicer and cooler. We anchored in a bay on the south side of Koh Yao Yai and as the sun sent watercolour streaks across the sky one the the fishing boats we had been waving at going past came and gave us some fish for dinner, refusing to take payment.
Yup. I have been eating fish lately. Don't give me a hard time about it; it's weird, I smell different! Mmmmm (Mike Moore style). Any hoo, we scaled and filleted the three fish including the beautiful one with a big long fin and yellow and blue stripes, the ones i'd prefer to see whilst snorkling rather than on my plate. But it tasted better that the other two which
were kinda ordinary looking. Interestingly it had lots of spikey bits, probably to convince other fish, like the other two that had big teeth, that it didn't really taste all that good.
Leslie, the guy whose boat I've been sailing on has been really nice and covered all my expenses in return for scrubbing decks etc. But he's an American bankruptcy lawyer and is starting to drive me a little crazy. Today immigration is closed so i can't get out of here which is driving me a little bit nuts. i'm thinking of going for a dive, not tomorrow, immigration run, but the next day cause Phuket is supposed to be one of the top ten dive sites in the world.
But I'm trying to get my ass over to Korea so I can find a job and I'm in serious need of big hugs. I haven't hung out with anyone under 35 since New Year so I'm really looking forward to seeing Dom, Jonathan and Andy over there. So I'm kinda running out of time and hoping to fly to Seoul next weekend where it sounds really cold. I guess I might have to go buy some warm clothes soon!
happier.
We pulled into Boat Lagoon, one of two marinas on the island after anchored in the lee of a gorgeous island opposite, waiting for the tide to rise so we could get in. I swam across to the island with a dry bag and procured cold beer and some really pretty shells. Later on we ate at a fancy restaurant over looking the biggest motor launches I have ever seen in my life. The restaurant was kind of like something you might find around the toaster end of the quay, Japanese minimalist decor with a stunningly designed menu to match and yummy gourmet food. Luckily I wasn't paying. The night before was in stark contrast and in many ways much nicer and cooler. We anchored in a bay on the south side of Koh Yao Yai and as the sun sent watercolour streaks across the sky one the the fishing boats we had been waving at going past came and gave us some fish for dinner, refusing to take payment.
Yup. I have been eating fish lately. Don't give me a hard time about it; it's weird, I smell different! Mmmmm (Mike Moore style). Any hoo, we scaled and filleted the three fish including the beautiful one with a big long fin and yellow and blue stripes, the ones i'd prefer to see whilst snorkling rather than on my plate. But it tasted better that the other two which
were kinda ordinary looking. Interestingly it had lots of spikey bits, probably to convince other fish, like the other two that had big teeth, that it didn't really taste all that good.
Leslie, the guy whose boat I've been sailing on has been really nice and covered all my expenses in return for scrubbing decks etc. But he's an American bankruptcy lawyer and is starting to drive me a little crazy. Today immigration is closed so i can't get out of here which is driving me a little bit nuts. i'm thinking of going for a dive, not tomorrow, immigration run, but the next day cause Phuket is supposed to be one of the top ten dive sites in the world.
But I'm trying to get my ass over to Korea so I can find a job and I'm in serious need of big hugs. I haven't hung out with anyone under 35 since New Year so I'm really looking forward to seeing Dom, Jonathan and Andy over there. So I'm kinda running out of time and hoping to fly to Seoul next weekend where it sounds really cold. I guess I might have to go buy some warm clothes soon!
#9 A different flavour of culture shock
Sitting in Doms house in Seoul with my feet on his warm heated floor and the velvet underground on the stereo. Coffee and leftover Korean takeaway from last night for breakfast. I don’t know what any of it is called, just that it tastes very different. One main dish accompanied by lots of little side dishes and flat metal chop sticks to flummox me. Reminiscent of learning to drive a manual car about 4 or 5 years after I’d been driving. I can do this but its just not working and I can’t keep a grip on my food. Dom asks if I want wooden chopsticks but I won’t be beaten and besides, life could get very hungry in the outside world! ;-)
Korea is strange. But less so after a few days. I flew out on Saturday afternoon after walking around in circles all day trying to defog my brain. Friday night I caught up with the crew I’d been hanging with before heading south. Really solid excellent people except for that bastard who gave me Thai Whiskey too late in the night to refuse, you know who you are *grin*! Ouch
that’s nasty stuff. But this was a good thing because on Saturday, instead of rushing maniacally to the market in search of a cheap warm hoody I went and got a thai massage instead where my brain could be numb in comfort whilst my body got pummeled. Embarrassed to say it was the first I’ve had this trip to Thailand. My brunswickian friend Tom is coming back for a week
or so and was wondering what to take back home. They have these cool rubber masks and I suggested that maybe he could drop off a couple of osama and saddams at somewhere central like Irene. I figure that in these heady days of international stupidity someone could find a use. Keep an eye out.
So the plane landed 5:30 Sunday morning in Incheon. Tip: Vietnam Air have these really warm and spunky polar fleece blankets now. The govt has also built this HUGE new airport in Hanoi where I had a two hour stopover. Like very architecturally spunky only let down by their cheapness in not redesigning all the signs which are illuminated mustard yellow on a dark
seventies brown background and must have come from the same era. Doesn’t fit in too well with the white and grey and blue late nineties look everywhere else. Butthere’s nothing in this place except for a tiny restaurant, a gift store and a bookshop that only has a couple of English language books in it with scintillating titles like Vietnamese Macro and Micro Economic Systems or A Guide to VAT Law. ???????
Sitting there in the middle of the night with two Canadians we decided they should hire out
rollerblades. Lots of open space, a nice shiny floor - t’would be a riot!
First impressions of Seoul were tired and sleepy. And no one in the airport walking past would smile at me, in fact they’d look at me and then when I looked back, quickly look away and refuse eye contact. Even the westerners do it. I’m sure its some cultural adjustment thing but after 41/2 months in SEA where its rude not to acknowledge people on the street and I
bounce through my days on smiles it was kinda off putting on no sleep. I went from laughing to almost in tears in about half an hour while waiting for dom to show up.
The hour long bus ride to Doms place was an eye opener. The best way to describe Seoul is like some city from a futuristic scifi movie. Most people live in these ENORMOUS apartment buildings which cluster around in groups like aliens having tea. They all have numbers on the outside and many have corporate logos cause the companies own the buildings which doesn’t
necessarily mean that the people inside work for the companies. And there are rows of these things going on forever as far as they eye can see except where the mountains jut up. Seoul is really mountainous. So the horizon encompasses lots of F*#$ off big buildings dictated to by these big peaks with drifts of snow all over. Wow. Stunning. Nature still dictates society no
matter how hard we try!
After breakfast and naps at Doms on Sunday he took me up to one of the monasteries on the side of a mountain. Sitting inside the beautifully carved and painted wooden structure, overlooked by one big and 500 little buddhas, a serenity enveloped me like nothing I have ever experienced. The energy inside is so calming. A brilliant tonic for culture shock. My brain had been reeling all day with things new, determined not to get flustered I tried to let it all wash over me. Everything would still be there tomorrow and not quite so overwhelming. I can see myself spending a lot of meditaion time in these beautifully haunting environments. Very different to the Thai temples which are somewhat more gaudy in design and the older more beautiful ones in Bangkok have been turned into tourist attractions. The Great Hall in Wat
Po is one of my favourite places but its very hard to ground when a tourist group comes through with a guide explaining the history of the place over a megaphone!
After marveling at the temple we walked up the hill, drank from the fresh spring and walked further up past fresh faced and older Koreans alike, pushing themselves through their vigourous exercise regimes. There are outside gyms in lots of the parks and they are well used. Little old men scuttled past us on our hike up to the lookout. Bare trees with abandoned
birds nests, a great view and SNOW EVERYWHERE. Soft flakey beautiful snow like I have never seen before in my life.
YIPPEE.
Necessary snowball fights were had and I’m sure Dom got very over my impulsive need to throw huge piles of snow at him every five minutes in what I thought was my gleefully childish nature but which was probably pretty annoying. I haven’t laughed and giggled and grinned maniacally so much in such a long time. Right now I feel more alive and free than I have in such a long long time. I think the crisp sunny air helps.
Korea is strange. But less so after a few days. I flew out on Saturday afternoon after walking around in circles all day trying to defog my brain. Friday night I caught up with the crew I’d been hanging with before heading south. Really solid excellent people except for that bastard who gave me Thai Whiskey too late in the night to refuse, you know who you are *grin*! Ouch
that’s nasty stuff. But this was a good thing because on Saturday, instead of rushing maniacally to the market in search of a cheap warm hoody I went and got a thai massage instead where my brain could be numb in comfort whilst my body got pummeled. Embarrassed to say it was the first I’ve had this trip to Thailand. My brunswickian friend Tom is coming back for a week
or so and was wondering what to take back home. They have these cool rubber masks and I suggested that maybe he could drop off a couple of osama and saddams at somewhere central like Irene. I figure that in these heady days of international stupidity someone could find a use. Keep an eye out.
So the plane landed 5:30 Sunday morning in Incheon. Tip: Vietnam Air have these really warm and spunky polar fleece blankets now. The govt has also built this HUGE new airport in Hanoi where I had a two hour stopover. Like very architecturally spunky only let down by their cheapness in not redesigning all the signs which are illuminated mustard yellow on a dark
seventies brown background and must have come from the same era. Doesn’t fit in too well with the white and grey and blue late nineties look everywhere else. Butthere’s nothing in this place except for a tiny restaurant, a gift store and a bookshop that only has a couple of English language books in it with scintillating titles like Vietnamese Macro and Micro Economic Systems or A Guide to VAT Law. ???????
Sitting there in the middle of the night with two Canadians we decided they should hire out
rollerblades. Lots of open space, a nice shiny floor - t’would be a riot!
First impressions of Seoul were tired and sleepy. And no one in the airport walking past would smile at me, in fact they’d look at me and then when I looked back, quickly look away and refuse eye contact. Even the westerners do it. I’m sure its some cultural adjustment thing but after 41/2 months in SEA where its rude not to acknowledge people on the street and I
bounce through my days on smiles it was kinda off putting on no sleep. I went from laughing to almost in tears in about half an hour while waiting for dom to show up.
The hour long bus ride to Doms place was an eye opener. The best way to describe Seoul is like some city from a futuristic scifi movie. Most people live in these ENORMOUS apartment buildings which cluster around in groups like aliens having tea. They all have numbers on the outside and many have corporate logos cause the companies own the buildings which doesn’t
necessarily mean that the people inside work for the companies. And there are rows of these things going on forever as far as they eye can see except where the mountains jut up. Seoul is really mountainous. So the horizon encompasses lots of F*#$ off big buildings dictated to by these big peaks with drifts of snow all over. Wow. Stunning. Nature still dictates society no
matter how hard we try!
After breakfast and naps at Doms on Sunday he took me up to one of the monasteries on the side of a mountain. Sitting inside the beautifully carved and painted wooden structure, overlooked by one big and 500 little buddhas, a serenity enveloped me like nothing I have ever experienced. The energy inside is so calming. A brilliant tonic for culture shock. My brain had been reeling all day with things new, determined not to get flustered I tried to let it all wash over me. Everything would still be there tomorrow and not quite so overwhelming. I can see myself spending a lot of meditaion time in these beautifully haunting environments. Very different to the Thai temples which are somewhat more gaudy in design and the older more beautiful ones in Bangkok have been turned into tourist attractions. The Great Hall in Wat
Po is one of my favourite places but its very hard to ground when a tourist group comes through with a guide explaining the history of the place over a megaphone!
After marveling at the temple we walked up the hill, drank from the fresh spring and walked further up past fresh faced and older Koreans alike, pushing themselves through their vigourous exercise regimes. There are outside gyms in lots of the parks and they are well used. Little old men scuttled past us on our hike up to the lookout. Bare trees with abandoned
birds nests, a great view and SNOW EVERYWHERE. Soft flakey beautiful snow like I have never seen before in my life.
YIPPEE.
Necessary snowball fights were had and I’m sure Dom got very over my impulsive need to throw huge piles of snow at him every five minutes in what I thought was my gleefully childish nature but which was probably pretty annoying. I haven’t laughed and giggled and grinned maniacally so much in such a long time. Right now I feel more alive and free than I have in such a long long time. I think the crisp sunny air helps.
#10 seoul
Moorrnning.
Sitting in the internet cafe, a grey haze soaking into the city, waiting for my comptriots to emerge from their peaceful slumbers, get their lazy arses out of bed and deal with probable hangovers. Me I'm fine, though after spending hours lying awake thinking I should get up and waiting for others to do likewise I would now prefer to be back in my own sleepy cocoon.
Attached are some photos: the two linked to this email are of the temple behind Shinchon I talked of in my last email where Dom took me on day 1; and the street below where I'm staying. In the following email "freaky stuff," are a few photos of the highrise accomodation that a huge percentage of the population lives in. They appear almost normal to me now but I
know that when I first arrived they completely freaked me out, especially the way big companies buid/own them and then sell/rent them separately. I'm not quite sure how that works yet. Seoul is built around the mountain ranges here and the buildings tend to nestle
into them. What is really nice is there are big chunks of parkland at the top which you can escape to and look out over the freakiness of the city!
Friday night Jonathan arrived in Seoul, his first time here after spending the last four weeks in sleepy Masan, down on the south coast, well not that sleepy but the difference between four hundred thousand and ten million plus living in alien housing, or stubbed cigrette butts as J. refers to them! After sitting up all fri night drinking Soju, the local lethal rice concoction, J. and I explored the back alleyways of Itaewon, local street sellers who looked surprised to
see foreigners only ten minutes away from the military/teachers hub of Seoul but light years away culturally. From the Mosque there are spectacular view of the surrounding section of the city, which in itself goes on for miles, and continuing down curvy laneways we happened upon the Han River in the far background which slices the city in two. A mixture of cloud, pollution and low winter light its always a dull pink; pretty but ominous in shade. J. and i fell
into a succession of manic laughter fits after looking at each other and realising we're both in Seoul, staying on Dom's floor, another of those bizarre MacUni contingents that seem to follow me around the world, or maybe I create them, I'm not sure.
Last night we went out to someone's farewell, a friend of Dom's, I get the impression there will be many farewells in the future, a city with a stably transient population, or transiently stable? A city where people stay for months or years but eventually move on from, a city where hard work can be compensated by hard cash and playing hard is compulsory if your brain isn't to go soft!
Seoul, and Korea, seems predominantly settled by canadians paying off extensive uni debts. A
conversation last night:
Tara, canadian: I'm here cause I have tons of debt
Melanie, south african: I'm here cause we have unemployment
me, aussie: I'm here cause we have John Howard
Melanie declared me the winner and after hysterical laughter and much stupidity we drank to the beginning of a new silly friendship. YEAH, AT LAST! Have been craving silliness since I left australia: someone to have stupid conversations with, play BMX bandits with, go skinny dipping, skipping, giggling through the joyous craziness of life with. Hannah, Trina, Romeo,
hakisack was great but kevin has been lonely! Alice, loved hearing about the wedding, rejoice in your style. Viva la revolution!
So the friendship was sealed when Men at Work came on and after lots of cheesy eighties stuff I had to grab fellow aussies and dance my arse off to vegimite sandwiches. The south african joined the crazy aussies as the canadians and koreans stared at us in wonder and cleared the dance floor for us. Outnumbered we weren't deterred!
So I'm starting to build up a really nice community here in Korea and things are beginning to fall into place after the rollercoaster of recent weeks. Waves of culture shock, despondancy about job hunting and wondering how I can live in such an outrageously developed urban sprawl have all taken their toll on my stress levels but the good outweighs the bad by far
and i'm working really hard at looking after myself. Have been hanging out with an ex-Melbourne chick who used to live in the first house I moved into in Kensington. Yup its a small world. I guess in melbourne its pretty common to have lived in the same houses as people you meet but when you meet people across the world it can blow you away a tad. So I'm
fortunate to have excellent people around me once again; there has only been minimal time since I've been travelling that that hasn't been the case, I'm fully appreciating how lucky I am, hey.
Sitting in the internet cafe, a grey haze soaking into the city, waiting for my comptriots to emerge from their peaceful slumbers, get their lazy arses out of bed and deal with probable hangovers. Me I'm fine, though after spending hours lying awake thinking I should get up and waiting for others to do likewise I would now prefer to be back in my own sleepy cocoon.
Attached are some photos: the two linked to this email are of the temple behind Shinchon I talked of in my last email where Dom took me on day 1; and the street below where I'm staying. In the following email "freaky stuff," are a few photos of the highrise accomodation that a huge percentage of the population lives in. They appear almost normal to me now but I
know that when I first arrived they completely freaked me out, especially the way big companies buid/own them and then sell/rent them separately. I'm not quite sure how that works yet. Seoul is built around the mountain ranges here and the buildings tend to nestle
into them. What is really nice is there are big chunks of parkland at the top which you can escape to and look out over the freakiness of the city!
Friday night Jonathan arrived in Seoul, his first time here after spending the last four weeks in sleepy Masan, down on the south coast, well not that sleepy but the difference between four hundred thousand and ten million plus living in alien housing, or stubbed cigrette butts as J. refers to them! After sitting up all fri night drinking Soju, the local lethal rice concoction, J. and I explored the back alleyways of Itaewon, local street sellers who looked surprised to
see foreigners only ten minutes away from the military/teachers hub of Seoul but light years away culturally. From the Mosque there are spectacular view of the surrounding section of the city, which in itself goes on for miles, and continuing down curvy laneways we happened upon the Han River in the far background which slices the city in two. A mixture of cloud, pollution and low winter light its always a dull pink; pretty but ominous in shade. J. and i fell
into a succession of manic laughter fits after looking at each other and realising we're both in Seoul, staying on Dom's floor, another of those bizarre MacUni contingents that seem to follow me around the world, or maybe I create them, I'm not sure.
Last night we went out to someone's farewell, a friend of Dom's, I get the impression there will be many farewells in the future, a city with a stably transient population, or transiently stable? A city where people stay for months or years but eventually move on from, a city where hard work can be compensated by hard cash and playing hard is compulsory if your brain isn't to go soft!
Seoul, and Korea, seems predominantly settled by canadians paying off extensive uni debts. A
conversation last night:
Tara, canadian: I'm here cause I have tons of debt
Melanie, south african: I'm here cause we have unemployment
me, aussie: I'm here cause we have John Howard
Melanie declared me the winner and after hysterical laughter and much stupidity we drank to the beginning of a new silly friendship. YEAH, AT LAST! Have been craving silliness since I left australia: someone to have stupid conversations with, play BMX bandits with, go skinny dipping, skipping, giggling through the joyous craziness of life with. Hannah, Trina, Romeo,
hakisack was great but kevin has been lonely! Alice, loved hearing about the wedding, rejoice in your style. Viva la revolution!
So the friendship was sealed when Men at Work came on and after lots of cheesy eighties stuff I had to grab fellow aussies and dance my arse off to vegimite sandwiches. The south african joined the crazy aussies as the canadians and koreans stared at us in wonder and cleared the dance floor for us. Outnumbered we weren't deterred!
So I'm starting to build up a really nice community here in Korea and things are beginning to fall into place after the rollercoaster of recent weeks. Waves of culture shock, despondancy about job hunting and wondering how I can live in such an outrageously developed urban sprawl have all taken their toll on my stress levels but the good outweighs the bad by far
and i'm working really hard at looking after myself. Have been hanging out with an ex-Melbourne chick who used to live in the first house I moved into in Kensington. Yup its a small world. I guess in melbourne its pretty common to have lived in the same houses as people you meet but when you meet people across the world it can blow you away a tad. So I'm
fortunate to have excellent people around me once again; there has only been minimal time since I've been travelling that that hasn't been the case, I'm fully appreciating how lucky I am, hey.
#11 Visual anecdotes
An old man sits on the subway caressing a new cherry pink padded toilet seat in a land straddling the divide between the squat and the western style toilet. no bag around his prized possession in a country given over to packaging. bizarre contradictions.
jane, the girl who said hello to me in the LG mart late on a saturday night. she wasn't in class
yesterday because she was sick.
a man stands up on the subway and launches into his spiel for the wares he is selling. i don't ignore him like everyone else until suruptitiously giving him money without making eye contact. nor do i giggle internally at the absurdity of this army of people trying to scrape by, moving from carriage to carriage. standing boldly asking for peoples attention (i think)
before delivering a succinct speech on the merits of the junk they are peddling before systematically moving up and down taking the living so underhandedly given.
for he is very nervous. he stutters and looks at the floor rather that waving his glance around
proudly at noone in particular. maybe it is his first day. my heart goes out to him.
monika tells me of an adjama, a little old lady, riding down the street with a new pair of training wheels attached to her bike.
i walk past a shop where a trail of small dogs are unceremoniously humiliated in the front window. all their hair shaved off. they look bewildered.
i walk out of munjeong subway station. close to home. after work i have travelled an hour away and an hour back from the other side of the city to teach my privates. good money. it is almost midnight. i am tired. a billboard grins at me. we have laughed at it a couple of days before. an older western man grins, mischeviously, almost maniacally, at me. he has a two tone pastel pacifier in his mouth. i don't know what the ad is for but i laugh again and forget my exhaustion for a moment.
jane, the girl who said hello to me in the LG mart late on a saturday night. she wasn't in class
yesterday because she was sick.
a man stands up on the subway and launches into his spiel for the wares he is selling. i don't ignore him like everyone else until suruptitiously giving him money without making eye contact. nor do i giggle internally at the absurdity of this army of people trying to scrape by, moving from carriage to carriage. standing boldly asking for peoples attention (i think)
before delivering a succinct speech on the merits of the junk they are peddling before systematically moving up and down taking the living so underhandedly given.
for he is very nervous. he stutters and looks at the floor rather that waving his glance around
proudly at noone in particular. maybe it is his first day. my heart goes out to him.
monika tells me of an adjama, a little old lady, riding down the street with a new pair of training wheels attached to her bike.
i walk past a shop where a trail of small dogs are unceremoniously humiliated in the front window. all their hair shaved off. they look bewildered.
i walk out of munjeong subway station. close to home. after work i have travelled an hour away and an hour back from the other side of the city to teach my privates. good money. it is almost midnight. i am tired. a billboard grins at me. we have laughed at it a couple of days before. an older western man grins, mischeviously, almost maniacally, at me. he has a two tone pastel pacifier in his mouth. i don't know what the ad is for but i laugh again and forget my exhaustion for a moment.
#12 spring’s warming up, i’m settling down and the world’s going crazy
Wanted to send out some joyous news yesterday of my new found stability but smacked in the head by a war instead. I was walking around techno-mart looking for stamps for my kids, hailed upon by fluroscent lighting when I suddenly got slapped by the enormous banks of enormous flat screen TVs I was walking past blaring out CNNs breaking news. Recalling Ani lyrics: "coming of age during the plague of reagan and bush, watching capitalism gun down democracy" as i staggered into work and laughed ruefuly at "little bush's" war speech. Some kids in my neighbourhood asked if i was from the USA and I was so happy to be able to tell them I'm australian until i read in the paper later that we have the third largest deployment of troops. Enough ranting and raving. Funny how the second generation of culture shock was beginning to settle in as i settle into my new neighbourhood, but the whole world looks strange now! What was that about a new neighbourhood. Yes folks, I have somewhere to live other than the kindnes of Dom's warm ad cozy floor. I now have my own heated luxury lino with a fridge, washing machine and TV to match. Ironicaly the only english speaking station i can get is AFN, yup, you guessed it Armed Forces Network, for the brave folks over here protecting the world from the other evil threat, the poor, very, north koreans. I turned it on this morning to laugh at the one-sided war coverage. Interviews with redneck america interspersed with domestic violence adverts for the military and requests only to use their travel allowance for work purposes. I've got to send some of these back. They'd be hilarious if they weren't so scary. Have almost finished the second week of my new job and have been installed in my own personal orwellian booth for almost a week. i kid you not. they're not very big and there's not much light but i have white goods which must make me a real person! its really excellent to have my own space and this will have been the first time i've been settled since six weeks in Bali with my beautiful hosts, many months ago. And its amazing what a packet of rainbow candles and a couple of milk crates can do to make a place homely! Next weekend I'm having a housewarming i reckon, so if you're invited drop by. Speaking of which my new address is: 67-1 Da-se-de 202 Songpa-Gu Munjeong-Dong Seoul Korea. If you're sending packages, hint hint, nudge nudege, wink wink, its better to send them to school: EWAS (english with a smile) 3F1, Academy Centre 150-20 Munjeong-Dong Song-ku Seoul And I'm getting the phone put on this afternoon: +82 2 408 4547. Walking around exploring in the mornings, as spring warms up the light is an icy blue which deepens into a dusky pink in the afternoons. The trees are budding and I've shed most of my twenty-zillion layers down to that old standard melbourne uniform: stripy thermal with a bonds t-shirt over the top. I live about 15 minutes walk from school (work) and as its reasonably flat around here i'm thinking about getting a skateboard or some rollerblades as quick funky travel. Have been polling my kids ad they're in favour of rollerblades which could be interesting as i've only bladed twice in my life; once in boots too small for me and once around a really dark gas station. Practicality and coolness are equally important in this decision but I'm concerned that i never figured out the ollie. maybe the lcal kids could teach me that would me cool. They're all out in the streets in the afternoons if i duck out for my break. I'm lucky in having 3 parks on my way to work, depending how I walk, but as I'm working from 1pm-7:30 the kids are all in school or hogwans. So i reckon I'm here until mid september when i'm thinking really seriously of catching the ferry over to China, exploring mongolia and catching the trans-siberian back to Beijing before heading over to Burma and the Thai-Burmese border to do some real work. Still looking for media savvy travel buddy for Burma and trying to get my hands on as much research material first before i go. So that'll leave me back in SEA around the end of the year.
#13 goodbye cherry blossoms, hello summer
Coming back from Taejon yesterday morning it amazed me how green the mountains have become in the two weeks since I had last seen them in daylight.
During that time winter was signalled officially over by the massive erruption of magnolia blossoms which happenned countrywide within a couple of days. Over the next few days the cherry blossoms started to peek out in a much more subtle manner so that one day I was
walking down the street and amazed by the sheer brilliance of delicacy. This was a phenomenon intrinsic to my planning and I'm really glad I got to see it. The cherry blossoms are beautiful and so transient i believe if it was the first or fiftieth time you had seen them come out, never could this be taken for granted. Sitting in the park a week ago I rejoiced in the rain of blossoms departing the trees and sleeting across my head. This morning in the same
space I note that they have all disappeared, the countryside and the cities alike now covered in a myriad of green, so much more refreshing than the uniform brown that covered everything in winter.
The last month or so has been really challenging, in new and expected ways. Korea is a highly urbanised culture. My apartment is nice but looks out upon another and gets no direct light, in fact gets very little light full stop. Korean is a culture of workaholics and people always seems to be rushing somewhere, thinking about the next thig they have to be doing. Watching an ajama jogging laps of the park this morning, she seems impatient to be finished, there is no natural flow or pace to her running; somehow stilted i conclude after watching her for a
while. I spend a lot of time trying to fathom Korean culture, something I have never done before when o/s. A country caught between an ancient history and a rush to modernise, ruthlessly efficient with bizarre gaping holes in the infrastructure.
I find myself picking up on the tangible stress in the air and magniying it into old redundant behaviours. Even the plants seem to be able to survive on fluroesccent lighting here, something that has always made me feel slightly schizophrenic. Looking after my mental health has become a top priority and I wonder how long I can survive here without going past some as
yet undetermined boundary of compromise.
Last week I bought a cheap bike and have been seeking out park space so i can feed my vitamin D addiction and stay somewhat grounded. Its totally wicked having a bike again. A cheap form of prostitution when I think of cheating on my bike back home but it fills a need and leaves me feeling more like me again. Korean bike culture is quite cool. Noone rides on the roads, even the motorbikes ride on the footpaths here. And unlike Australia where I wouldn't leave my bike unlocked for two seconds, people leave their bikes locked up to nothing all day, a locked wrapped around a frame to imobilise the wheel. I went to the supermarket last night and left my bike freestanding outside for half an hour with no worries.
On the weekend I went to an island called Sapsido, off the west coast of Korea. The island is astonishingly rural after mainland life. Subsistence farmers and fisherman unashamedly overchange tourists and foreigners so they can feed their children. Small prefabricated shacks line the coastline and the community smells of hard work, hard living and poverty. A truth hung around the island that seems to have been obliterated by computer game warfare on the
mainland.
After a beautiful hot week it rained most of the weekend which was initially disappionting but calmness seeped into my consciousness as fog enveloped the island. I scavenged for seashells and peered into rockpools and remembered about nature and wondered for the two hundred and twenty third time what I'm doing living in the 4th biggest city in the world.
So there's a small chance next time you hear from me i may have thrown my fortune to the winds and be looking for new existence opportunities; on the other hand I really want to stick it out until september and treat the next few months as a big growing and learning experience. Life has been unnaturally easy since bailing oz.
During that time winter was signalled officially over by the massive erruption of magnolia blossoms which happenned countrywide within a couple of days. Over the next few days the cherry blossoms started to peek out in a much more subtle manner so that one day I was
walking down the street and amazed by the sheer brilliance of delicacy. This was a phenomenon intrinsic to my planning and I'm really glad I got to see it. The cherry blossoms are beautiful and so transient i believe if it was the first or fiftieth time you had seen them come out, never could this be taken for granted. Sitting in the park a week ago I rejoiced in the rain of blossoms departing the trees and sleeting across my head. This morning in the same
space I note that they have all disappeared, the countryside and the cities alike now covered in a myriad of green, so much more refreshing than the uniform brown that covered everything in winter.
The last month or so has been really challenging, in new and expected ways. Korea is a highly urbanised culture. My apartment is nice but looks out upon another and gets no direct light, in fact gets very little light full stop. Korean is a culture of workaholics and people always seems to be rushing somewhere, thinking about the next thig they have to be doing. Watching an ajama jogging laps of the park this morning, she seems impatient to be finished, there is no natural flow or pace to her running; somehow stilted i conclude after watching her for a
while. I spend a lot of time trying to fathom Korean culture, something I have never done before when o/s. A country caught between an ancient history and a rush to modernise, ruthlessly efficient with bizarre gaping holes in the infrastructure.
I find myself picking up on the tangible stress in the air and magniying it into old redundant behaviours. Even the plants seem to be able to survive on fluroesccent lighting here, something that has always made me feel slightly schizophrenic. Looking after my mental health has become a top priority and I wonder how long I can survive here without going past some as
yet undetermined boundary of compromise.
Last week I bought a cheap bike and have been seeking out park space so i can feed my vitamin D addiction and stay somewhat grounded. Its totally wicked having a bike again. A cheap form of prostitution when I think of cheating on my bike back home but it fills a need and leaves me feeling more like me again. Korean bike culture is quite cool. Noone rides on the roads, even the motorbikes ride on the footpaths here. And unlike Australia where I wouldn't leave my bike unlocked for two seconds, people leave their bikes locked up to nothing all day, a locked wrapped around a frame to imobilise the wheel. I went to the supermarket last night and left my bike freestanding outside for half an hour with no worries.
On the weekend I went to an island called Sapsido, off the west coast of Korea. The island is astonishingly rural after mainland life. Subsistence farmers and fisherman unashamedly overchange tourists and foreigners so they can feed their children. Small prefabricated shacks line the coastline and the community smells of hard work, hard living and poverty. A truth hung around the island that seems to have been obliterated by computer game warfare on the
mainland.
After a beautiful hot week it rained most of the weekend which was initially disappionting but calmness seeped into my consciousness as fog enveloped the island. I scavenged for seashells and peered into rockpools and remembered about nature and wondered for the two hundred and twenty third time what I'm doing living in the 4th biggest city in the world.
So there's a small chance next time you hear from me i may have thrown my fortune to the winds and be looking for new existence opportunities; on the other hand I really want to stick it out until september and treat the next few months as a big growing and learning experience. Life has been unnaturally easy since bailing oz.
#14 Magical mystery picnic
Kevin and I would like to invite you and your inner child on a Magical Mystery Picnic in the Enchanted Forest in honour of the commencement of the last year of my twenties.
Whilst this expedition will be fun it may also hold hidden dangers so you will need to come well prepared. You will need sturdy walking shoes, warm clothes, a blanket, candles, and a flashlight or torch, depending which continent you originate from, as this is an evening/night-time adventure.
Nature is providing the venue but my good friend Pooh told me never to go on an expedition without provisions, so I entreat you to bring your favourite picnic dish (filled with food) and something to drink.
You may also want to bring silly toys along, well, Kevin and I would like you to, anyway!
When: Sat 31st May, 2003
Where: Meet at 5pm at Suseo Yok, 349, Exit #4
RSVP: Fri 30th May, so we know to wait for you!
Whilst this expedition will be fun it may also hold hidden dangers so you will need to come well prepared. You will need sturdy walking shoes, warm clothes, a blanket, candles, and a flashlight or torch, depending which continent you originate from, as this is an evening/night-time adventure.
Nature is providing the venue but my good friend Pooh told me never to go on an expedition without provisions, so I entreat you to bring your favourite picnic dish (filled with food) and something to drink.
You may also want to bring silly toys along, well, Kevin and I would like you to, anyway!
When: Sat 31st May, 2003
Where: Meet at 5pm at Suseo Yok, 349, Exit #4
RSVP: Fri 30th May, so we know to wait for you!
#15 Climbing mountains
Apart from a dramatic bout of the flu life has taken a much needed turn for the better. I seem to have tapped back into an energy and enthusiasm I've sorely missed in the past few months and am much more content and grounded for it. Nature and I have been working hard at patching up our flailing relationship and are communicating much better. In fact quite loudly. My calves are still aching from Saturday. I accidentally climbed a really big mountain looking to see what a signpost (that I couldn't understand)pointed to! Monika and I went on a mission to discover Namhansanseung Fortress. On the edge of Seoul Namhansanseung Park forms part of one of the many mountain ranges that ring the city.
We got off the bus and followed the pilgrim of middle aged hikers in their high tech outdoor gear and gaudy polyester hiking socks that look like $2 golf socks in lurid greens and pinks and purples! Walking up small alleyways selling everything you might never need for a casual afternoon walk we stared up at the park in awe and I jumped up and down in excitement.
Passing by a small temple in the foothills we wandered in to peruse and pay our respects. Outside a tree is ladened with beautiful handmade paper lanterns; inside a thousand buddhas sit contemplating, i counted them! A back entrance leads onto market gardens, farmers tenderly lean over their crops and the hum of bees from nearby hives intermingles with the haunting strains of Korean traditional music. I sit under an accommodating tree and think that this is a place I could spend a lot of time.
We spend the day finding excellent rocks and trees to sit on and in, watch ants scurrying and try to identify the blossom that permeates everything. A stream cools our feet and provides icy drinking water. We baptise each other in it and rejoice in the spirit of the mountains.
I am tempted by a sign and walk off up the windy path. Monika elects not to come; "call me if its interesting". Up and up I go and then I spot the rope tied between the trees so you can literally climb the mountain. This must be a really good lookout I think to myself. I've been walking for a while and think I must be nearly there, wondering if I should go back for Monika. Higher and higher. I'm out of breath and my lungs hurt like they haven't in a long time. Cheery
faced hikers pass me coming down and I wish I knew how far. The path must go to the top. Too late to go back now, I can see the tops of the tree tops and I have no idea how long I have been struggling but its been a long time. As I reach the top, the path bends and goes up dramatically in another direction and the top is still another 50 metres up. Tease of a mountain. I'm almost there and it pulls the same trick on me again. and again. and again!
HOW MUCH FURTHER my thighs and calves scream in agony.
My lungs are incapable of any sound except wheezing.
10 steps up. 10 deep breaths. repeat.
The top is amazing. I can see half way across Seoul.
It would be further if it were a clear day. The mountain has conquered me and won't let go. After I have rested and the waterfalls from my pores slow to a steady trickle I think about going back but am entranced!
And the best thing is on the way home I discover a bus that goes right past my school and takes less than half an hour to get there.
Yesterday morning I went bushwalking up the hill across the canal that has been enticing me for weeks. Sometimes it looks really close and other times it could be halfway across Seoul. I went on my first mission bike ride last week to check it out. I rode around the base for an hour, looking how to get past the fenced off market gardens up the mountain whilst marvelling at the real houses with real gardens surrounded by real nature. On the way home i spotted an enticing path chasing the tree tops. Wandering up I'm seduced by the rosy peach light filtering through the clouds turning the forest into faeryland. Dappled pink on red soil and a rainbow of green. I feel like a goldfish caught in the headlights of a myriad of colours. Tripping out, only able to take in 8 seconds at a time before it all gets too much and my brain overloads in ecstacy. Crossing a ridge the traffic sensations from below fade out to be replaced by the soothing scent of rich humus and pine needles.
I spot what I think is a red squirrel. Tiny. It pauses and sizes me up, tufty ears wanting to belong to a scottish terrier, twitching nervously. A toilet brush joins the base of its spine, madly following, as the critter runs up trunks and makes death defying leaps across the canyons of sweet forest air onto a supple twig. Birds I have only seen in Korea tap into the bark of trees. A cross between a kookaburra and a kingfisher is a bad description but the best way i can describe the patches of pink and blue and brown on a largish body with a fat head and a short strong beak. On the way back down, hoping for a shower before school, more rodents. I don't know. Spunky little dudes with many stripes running down the length of their body. What does a chipmunk look like?
Parks with patches of grass have grown into mountains. A bike path runs down the canal towards the Han River which splits Seoul in two. An invitation yet to be explored. Summer is knocking at the door, I've broken out of my urban nightmare and life is good.
We got off the bus and followed the pilgrim of middle aged hikers in their high tech outdoor gear and gaudy polyester hiking socks that look like $2 golf socks in lurid greens and pinks and purples! Walking up small alleyways selling everything you might never need for a casual afternoon walk we stared up at the park in awe and I jumped up and down in excitement.
Passing by a small temple in the foothills we wandered in to peruse and pay our respects. Outside a tree is ladened with beautiful handmade paper lanterns; inside a thousand buddhas sit contemplating, i counted them! A back entrance leads onto market gardens, farmers tenderly lean over their crops and the hum of bees from nearby hives intermingles with the haunting strains of Korean traditional music. I sit under an accommodating tree and think that this is a place I could spend a lot of time.
We spend the day finding excellent rocks and trees to sit on and in, watch ants scurrying and try to identify the blossom that permeates everything. A stream cools our feet and provides icy drinking water. We baptise each other in it and rejoice in the spirit of the mountains.
I am tempted by a sign and walk off up the windy path. Monika elects not to come; "call me if its interesting". Up and up I go and then I spot the rope tied between the trees so you can literally climb the mountain. This must be a really good lookout I think to myself. I've been walking for a while and think I must be nearly there, wondering if I should go back for Monika. Higher and higher. I'm out of breath and my lungs hurt like they haven't in a long time. Cheery
faced hikers pass me coming down and I wish I knew how far. The path must go to the top. Too late to go back now, I can see the tops of the tree tops and I have no idea how long I have been struggling but its been a long time. As I reach the top, the path bends and goes up dramatically in another direction and the top is still another 50 metres up. Tease of a mountain. I'm almost there and it pulls the same trick on me again. and again. and again!
HOW MUCH FURTHER my thighs and calves scream in agony.
My lungs are incapable of any sound except wheezing.
10 steps up. 10 deep breaths. repeat.
The top is amazing. I can see half way across Seoul.
It would be further if it were a clear day. The mountain has conquered me and won't let go. After I have rested and the waterfalls from my pores slow to a steady trickle I think about going back but am entranced!
And the best thing is on the way home I discover a bus that goes right past my school and takes less than half an hour to get there.
Yesterday morning I went bushwalking up the hill across the canal that has been enticing me for weeks. Sometimes it looks really close and other times it could be halfway across Seoul. I went on my first mission bike ride last week to check it out. I rode around the base for an hour, looking how to get past the fenced off market gardens up the mountain whilst marvelling at the real houses with real gardens surrounded by real nature. On the way home i spotted an enticing path chasing the tree tops. Wandering up I'm seduced by the rosy peach light filtering through the clouds turning the forest into faeryland. Dappled pink on red soil and a rainbow of green. I feel like a goldfish caught in the headlights of a myriad of colours. Tripping out, only able to take in 8 seconds at a time before it all gets too much and my brain overloads in ecstacy. Crossing a ridge the traffic sensations from below fade out to be replaced by the soothing scent of rich humus and pine needles.
I spot what I think is a red squirrel. Tiny. It pauses and sizes me up, tufty ears wanting to belong to a scottish terrier, twitching nervously. A toilet brush joins the base of its spine, madly following, as the critter runs up trunks and makes death defying leaps across the canyons of sweet forest air onto a supple twig. Birds I have only seen in Korea tap into the bark of trees. A cross between a kookaburra and a kingfisher is a bad description but the best way i can describe the patches of pink and blue and brown on a largish body with a fat head and a short strong beak. On the way back down, hoping for a shower before school, more rodents. I don't know. Spunky little dudes with many stripes running down the length of their body. What does a chipmunk look like?
Parks with patches of grass have grown into mountains. A bike path runs down the canal towards the Han River which splits Seoul in two. An invitation yet to be explored. Summer is knocking at the door, I've broken out of my urban nightmare and life is good.
#16 In wonderland
Feeling like Alice crossing the city on the way to work this morning reviewing the suprises that
travelling and working in another country brings.
Its raining and the market is flooded with cheap umbrellas, [excuse the pun] the subways are filled with vendors advertising the benefits of their wares which are exactly the same as the other three stalls i have passed in the last 100m.
I started teaching casually at a kindergarten, Funny English, this morning. A couple of classes two mornings a week in the pastel palace run by Reverend Nice. I walk in and all the kids are indulging in loud tinny kiddy karaoke in response to a florally embroidered dungareed woman waving an imposing stick. I can't hear introductions because the noise is so loud and I nod politely and smile (hopefully sweetly).
Children are crammed 40 into a tiny classroom. Left to "teach" I am faced with a sea of eager faces struggling to be noticed in this overcrowded school in this overcrowded country. Survival of the fittest. Tiny children grab my arms and pull me down to their level so they can make me hear them. How do I make them hear me? Dicipline is non-existent in this human cage and I am expected to teach by rote, inside pink walls with friendly round windows.
Reverend Nice is nice. He wants everyone to love one another, offers to teach me Korean and a full time job next year. After haggling the difference between 49 and 50,000 won he offers me a bottle I swear says "drink me". I look again and realise it really says Nestle. Same thing.
Walking outside I realise I left my hearing behind and wonder how long I can do this for. Reverend Nice gives me an umbrella because my raincoat will not suffice in his eyes. I am building up quite a collection, perhaps I could go into business.
Eat me. Yesterday morning at Apple English.
Yup, trying to pick up some extra work and cash before finally being seduced by one of the crew wanted ads that entice me everyday and leave me falling asleep dreaming of salt water.
Judy and Shou run a hogwan in Shou's very tiny apartment from 1-9pm everyday. She also shares the apartment with her husband and two children. Everything in this abode/business place is labeled in english, from the refrigerator to the soap.
It reminds me of spending summers as a child living in my tiny tent, taking honey sandwiches back to my haven, munching next to the imaginary petal food I would collect. Or winters in my best friends bedroom where we would build miniature cities of out of camp beds, duvets and sleeping bags. But I got to go to bed and wake up to new games of bicycle soccer and spying
on the neighbours. Shou and her family must move their fold up beds out of the way everyday to accomodate hordes of tiny children. My job is to teach them conversational English once a week so they can teach young koreans. Another umbrella.
Coming to work at my expensive English With a Smile hogwan I realise how sheltered I am from korean lifestyles. I get a glimpse of the rich and their kids and go home to hide in my comparatively luxurious apartment which I can leave along with this country at any time.
I thank the universe for not making me an umbrella salesperson, wishing for rain, and prepare to go and teach my huge class of two beautiful 7 year old boys.
I hope you are all well and being continually suprised by how bizarre this life is.
travelling and working in another country brings.
Its raining and the market is flooded with cheap umbrellas, [excuse the pun] the subways are filled with vendors advertising the benefits of their wares which are exactly the same as the other three stalls i have passed in the last 100m.
I started teaching casually at a kindergarten, Funny English, this morning. A couple of classes two mornings a week in the pastel palace run by Reverend Nice. I walk in and all the kids are indulging in loud tinny kiddy karaoke in response to a florally embroidered dungareed woman waving an imposing stick. I can't hear introductions because the noise is so loud and I nod politely and smile (hopefully sweetly).
Children are crammed 40 into a tiny classroom. Left to "teach" I am faced with a sea of eager faces struggling to be noticed in this overcrowded school in this overcrowded country. Survival of the fittest. Tiny children grab my arms and pull me down to their level so they can make me hear them. How do I make them hear me? Dicipline is non-existent in this human cage and I am expected to teach by rote, inside pink walls with friendly round windows.
Reverend Nice is nice. He wants everyone to love one another, offers to teach me Korean and a full time job next year. After haggling the difference between 49 and 50,000 won he offers me a bottle I swear says "drink me". I look again and realise it really says Nestle. Same thing.
Walking outside I realise I left my hearing behind and wonder how long I can do this for. Reverend Nice gives me an umbrella because my raincoat will not suffice in his eyes. I am building up quite a collection, perhaps I could go into business.
Eat me. Yesterday morning at Apple English.
Yup, trying to pick up some extra work and cash before finally being seduced by one of the crew wanted ads that entice me everyday and leave me falling asleep dreaming of salt water.
Judy and Shou run a hogwan in Shou's very tiny apartment from 1-9pm everyday. She also shares the apartment with her husband and two children. Everything in this abode/business place is labeled in english, from the refrigerator to the soap.
It reminds me of spending summers as a child living in my tiny tent, taking honey sandwiches back to my haven, munching next to the imaginary petal food I would collect. Or winters in my best friends bedroom where we would build miniature cities of out of camp beds, duvets and sleeping bags. But I got to go to bed and wake up to new games of bicycle soccer and spying
on the neighbours. Shou and her family must move their fold up beds out of the way everyday to accomodate hordes of tiny children. My job is to teach them conversational English once a week so they can teach young koreans. Another umbrella.
Coming to work at my expensive English With a Smile hogwan I realise how sheltered I am from korean lifestyles. I get a glimpse of the rich and their kids and go home to hide in my comparatively luxurious apartment which I can leave along with this country at any time.
I thank the universe for not making me an umbrella salesperson, wishing for rain, and prepare to go and teach my huge class of two beautiful 7 year old boys.
I hope you are all well and being continually suprised by how bizarre this life is.
#17 Airing out the closet
We arrived at 4ish in dribs and drabs. Easy to spot the westerners by their energy, clothes and haircuts. Not always so easy the Koreans, more practiced at hiding in a country where homophobia is rife and discrimination beyond reproach.
Before I came to Korea I heard warnings. Carefully implored "Don't tell"s. Upon arrival these warnings are laced with threats of zero-toleration and stories of job dismissal. Appalling tales of being outed by tradesman coming into your apartment and seeing tell tale signs which leads to horrendous working conditions until you quit or are fired for smiling on the wrong side of
your face.
A funny feeling being a white middle class uni student previously with nothing to lose. Ra ra ra. Here we go again. What do we want? A new chant. When do we want it? Now!
This time it's different. No chants, a palpable tension in the air swirling and mixing with bravery and determination. I don't have a camera to hide behind and take a red armband, supposed insurance against same said media, pondering the dilemmas of filming a crowd where 80% of the participants have visibly requested not to be filmed. Do you focus on a
tiny handful of people, or blur the entire community. The arrogant idea occurs of claiming indemnity on the basis of filming for an international community, but what of the liability of someones brother, sister or neighbour catching a glimpse from o/s?
A Korean girl is vocal behind a long blonde wig and dark glasses. Masks of every variety abound and Christina has written on her pink balloon "Please don't fire me." A bandana adorns her face as she carries the Sappho banner advertising the foreign queer wimmins community in Seoul. Stu on the other end of the banner works for an NGO and is the only one of us armbandless. What do I really have to lose? I get fired, I find another job. But I need to get out of here soon. Sunshine is obscured by pollution, my nerves are fraying and the unfettered skies of the Mongolian steppes are calling.
The march starts after long speeches I don't understand. Almost back on Oxford Street as the three floats start up and cycle "Go West", Kylie's na na na and "It's Raining Men" only interrupted as we stop alongside YMCA and, you guessed it! Maybe 150-200 people are actually marching, many more lining the street in solidarity, following at a safe distance, not wishing direct exposure. Monika and I look at each other in trepidation, not having decided
whether or not to march yet, both activists at home but way out of our comfort zone here. We are spurred on by Carol, the third member of the aussie contingent, a tasmanian who marched in early Sydney Pride events. Inspired by her courage and battles already fought we step out into the rabbit stunning flash of cameras after hiding behind closed doors for months.
The marching boys are my favourites. Such a cliche back home my heart and admiration goes out to these skimpily dressed men apparently nonchalent under the astonished and outraged passengers on buses hurtling past.
We proceed a few short blocks through downtown Seoul, giving way to pedestrian crossings and all other traffic under the watchful eye of the police. Last year the march was in Itaewon, the foreign enclave, the first the year before was in one of the liberal university areas. As it gets bigger and braver I am truly proud to be here and thank God for the lack of external abuse and Fred Nile cousins. Arriving at the forecourt of a big building down a side street, 500 or 600 people congregate as punk bands set up equipment on the floats and we wander off to the nearest 7-11 to fetch beer, before settling down and congratulating ourselves.
Yesterday Monika and I checked newspapers and crossed fingers that we both were still employed, not daring to make alternative plans. I sit at work now and lie to my colleagues about the quiet weekend I had, confident no-one is any the wiser.
Before I came to Korea I heard warnings. Carefully implored "Don't tell"s. Upon arrival these warnings are laced with threats of zero-toleration and stories of job dismissal. Appalling tales of being outed by tradesman coming into your apartment and seeing tell tale signs which leads to horrendous working conditions until you quit or are fired for smiling on the wrong side of
your face.
A funny feeling being a white middle class uni student previously with nothing to lose. Ra ra ra. Here we go again. What do we want? A new chant. When do we want it? Now!
This time it's different. No chants, a palpable tension in the air swirling and mixing with bravery and determination. I don't have a camera to hide behind and take a red armband, supposed insurance against same said media, pondering the dilemmas of filming a crowd where 80% of the participants have visibly requested not to be filmed. Do you focus on a
tiny handful of people, or blur the entire community. The arrogant idea occurs of claiming indemnity on the basis of filming for an international community, but what of the liability of someones brother, sister or neighbour catching a glimpse from o/s?
A Korean girl is vocal behind a long blonde wig and dark glasses. Masks of every variety abound and Christina has written on her pink balloon "Please don't fire me." A bandana adorns her face as she carries the Sappho banner advertising the foreign queer wimmins community in Seoul. Stu on the other end of the banner works for an NGO and is the only one of us armbandless. What do I really have to lose? I get fired, I find another job. But I need to get out of here soon. Sunshine is obscured by pollution, my nerves are fraying and the unfettered skies of the Mongolian steppes are calling.
The march starts after long speeches I don't understand. Almost back on Oxford Street as the three floats start up and cycle "Go West", Kylie's na na na and "It's Raining Men" only interrupted as we stop alongside YMCA and, you guessed it! Maybe 150-200 people are actually marching, many more lining the street in solidarity, following at a safe distance, not wishing direct exposure. Monika and I look at each other in trepidation, not having decided
whether or not to march yet, both activists at home but way out of our comfort zone here. We are spurred on by Carol, the third member of the aussie contingent, a tasmanian who marched in early Sydney Pride events. Inspired by her courage and battles already fought we step out into the rabbit stunning flash of cameras after hiding behind closed doors for months.
The marching boys are my favourites. Such a cliche back home my heart and admiration goes out to these skimpily dressed men apparently nonchalent under the astonished and outraged passengers on buses hurtling past.
We proceed a few short blocks through downtown Seoul, giving way to pedestrian crossings and all other traffic under the watchful eye of the police. Last year the march was in Itaewon, the foreign enclave, the first the year before was in one of the liberal university areas. As it gets bigger and braver I am truly proud to be here and thank God for the lack of external abuse and Fred Nile cousins. Arriving at the forecourt of a big building down a side street, 500 or 600 people congregate as punk bands set up equipment on the floats and we wander off to the nearest 7-11 to fetch beer, before settling down and congratulating ourselves.
Yesterday Monika and I checked newspapers and crossed fingers that we both were still employed, not daring to make alternative plans. I sit at work now and lie to my colleagues about the quiet weekend I had, confident no-one is any the wiser.
#18 Songs with the word “up” in them
Seoraksan National Park is touted as the most beautiful in Korea and Monika and I took the summer break as an opportunity to explore it along with millions of other Koreans.
Most Koreans have their summer holidays in the same week, which is usually the hottest and most humid in the midst of a sticky monsoon season. In a country of 50 million people many leave the cities en masses tangling the roads even further and taking their noise and congestion out to the mountains and the coast.
We also headed up to the north east of the country where the land is protected from the sea by razor wire fences and young boys bearing scary looking pieces of firepower. At this time of the year portions of the fences are unlocked and Korean tourists and corporate advertisers flock to the edge of the country hiding from the sun under umbrellas and protected from the ocean by inflatable yellow tubes.
It's a strange thing not to be allowed to swim out more than 20 metres or so, swimming itself an oddity and my bodysurfing attempts greeted with reprimanding puzzlement. I wonder if the rope keeps me from the dangers of the sea or the North Koreans and again how much of this is propaganda and how much real threat. At night the pier is barriered off, those attempting to cross are followed by a blinding spotlight which continually sweeps the sea and the waters edge.
Heading out to the national park Monika and I plan a three day hike across which entails going over the peak. Friends have said that an hour or two past the main touristy bit the park will be deserted, but this is the peak of high season and we find ourselves part of a noisy pilgrimage.
The first day is beautiful. Stunning. Adjectives fail me and how amazing this piece of country is. We follow the river in, climbing slowly, oohs and ahs following thick upon each other as each turn becomes more scenic. Huge granite boulders line the river, water clearer than I have ever seen, the visibility unseemingly affected by depth. The river is a series of icy pools, tinged green in places by the natural colouring of the rock and refreshingly cool and yummy to drink. The forest climbs up steeply on either side but following the river our path is gradual, the rocky crags a long way off staring imposingly down at us like something out of Tolkien.
We spend the night at a shelter, 6 women crammed into a tiny room, feast on ramien, the korean version of instant noodles, and sleep little. Day two is straight up. The walk is divided in two by a shelter. We start off climbing steeply up an orange metal staircase of which there are many in the park, instantly taking us 100metres or so higher. The vegatation changes as the
topography gets steeper, chasing long waterfalls andmoving under the shade of the forest. The people population seems to have become more dense as has the number of tame chipmunks looking for an easy feed. After a two hour challenging hike we stop at a shelter for lunch and to soak weary feet in the river.
It is only supposed to be another two hours to the summit but it looks an awfully long way up as we take off again up another orange staircase. The angle of incline averages between 50 and 70 degrees, more often than not closer to the latter. Our morale drops as the brutal climb takes us higher and higher, displaying ever more spectacular views yet we seem further
removed from the peak. Trying to distract ourselves from one step in front of the other we play games with songs but get little further than "The only way is up". We play tag teams with other hikers as my joking premonitions of walking 10 minutes, resting 10 minutes turn into 5 minute intervals and we slip stream against each other like long distance cyclists.
Eventually we wobble up to little peak, the first of three peaks along a ridge. The view is amazing and I feel disconnected to be at the top finally, too exhausted to appreciate it, only wanting rest. Crossing the ridge to middle peak we find the shelter we hoped to stay at booked out and have to climb down the other side somewhat knowing we will have to retrace our steps the next day. Hundreds are crammed into the shelter, each given about a foots width to
sleep in as we are packed in wishing for the spacious luxury of being sardines. Less sleep is had.
The next morning is cloudy and we relish an easy day strolling back down. As we begin to ascend the final peak, a reputed ten minute stroll before heading down, slight spitting from above turns harder, as we reach the summit, comes in stinging blasts from the side
threatening to hurl us from the top of the mountain. We have been walking less than half an hour and are cold and drenched, not pausing at the top for fear of survival, thinking only of getting out of the fury.
Why do people go hiking in monsoon season?
Its bloody silly if you ask me!
The previous two days have taken their toll and my wobbly legs and exhausted body complain at the severity of the drop barely having the strength to hold my weight. Each time i take a step down I feel like my legs are about to crumple completely under me and we proceed slowly, dreaming of the hot springs at the bottom.
But we did it! We climbed the third highest mountain in Korea and saw some fantastically scenic sights. My back is much stronger, my fitness level higher and after three days I am beginning to walk normally again, losing the pigeon toed stagger of an old lady!
Monika is back at work and I am waiting for a package to arrive before departing these shores. The past couple of months has been really stressful. The universe has stepped in and exited me from my job and subsequently the country when I was too stubborn to do so myself. I'm currently shuffling options, looking forward to repairing my mental health on a beach for a while before considering what next to employ my time and energy usefully doing.
All suggestions gratefully received!
I hope you are all well and look forward to reconnecting with people as personally as email will allow when my head is removed from the pollution of mass consumerism.
Most Koreans have their summer holidays in the same week, which is usually the hottest and most humid in the midst of a sticky monsoon season. In a country of 50 million people many leave the cities en masses tangling the roads even further and taking their noise and congestion out to the mountains and the coast.
We also headed up to the north east of the country where the land is protected from the sea by razor wire fences and young boys bearing scary looking pieces of firepower. At this time of the year portions of the fences are unlocked and Korean tourists and corporate advertisers flock to the edge of the country hiding from the sun under umbrellas and protected from the ocean by inflatable yellow tubes.
It's a strange thing not to be allowed to swim out more than 20 metres or so, swimming itself an oddity and my bodysurfing attempts greeted with reprimanding puzzlement. I wonder if the rope keeps me from the dangers of the sea or the North Koreans and again how much of this is propaganda and how much real threat. At night the pier is barriered off, those attempting to cross are followed by a blinding spotlight which continually sweeps the sea and the waters edge.
Heading out to the national park Monika and I plan a three day hike across which entails going over the peak. Friends have said that an hour or two past the main touristy bit the park will be deserted, but this is the peak of high season and we find ourselves part of a noisy pilgrimage.
The first day is beautiful. Stunning. Adjectives fail me and how amazing this piece of country is. We follow the river in, climbing slowly, oohs and ahs following thick upon each other as each turn becomes more scenic. Huge granite boulders line the river, water clearer than I have ever seen, the visibility unseemingly affected by depth. The river is a series of icy pools, tinged green in places by the natural colouring of the rock and refreshingly cool and yummy to drink. The forest climbs up steeply on either side but following the river our path is gradual, the rocky crags a long way off staring imposingly down at us like something out of Tolkien.
We spend the night at a shelter, 6 women crammed into a tiny room, feast on ramien, the korean version of instant noodles, and sleep little. Day two is straight up. The walk is divided in two by a shelter. We start off climbing steeply up an orange metal staircase of which there are many in the park, instantly taking us 100metres or so higher. The vegatation changes as the
topography gets steeper, chasing long waterfalls andmoving under the shade of the forest. The people population seems to have become more dense as has the number of tame chipmunks looking for an easy feed. After a two hour challenging hike we stop at a shelter for lunch and to soak weary feet in the river.
It is only supposed to be another two hours to the summit but it looks an awfully long way up as we take off again up another orange staircase. The angle of incline averages between 50 and 70 degrees, more often than not closer to the latter. Our morale drops as the brutal climb takes us higher and higher, displaying ever more spectacular views yet we seem further
removed from the peak. Trying to distract ourselves from one step in front of the other we play games with songs but get little further than "The only way is up". We play tag teams with other hikers as my joking premonitions of walking 10 minutes, resting 10 minutes turn into 5 minute intervals and we slip stream against each other like long distance cyclists.
Eventually we wobble up to little peak, the first of three peaks along a ridge. The view is amazing and I feel disconnected to be at the top finally, too exhausted to appreciate it, only wanting rest. Crossing the ridge to middle peak we find the shelter we hoped to stay at booked out and have to climb down the other side somewhat knowing we will have to retrace our steps the next day. Hundreds are crammed into the shelter, each given about a foots width to
sleep in as we are packed in wishing for the spacious luxury of being sardines. Less sleep is had.
The next morning is cloudy and we relish an easy day strolling back down. As we begin to ascend the final peak, a reputed ten minute stroll before heading down, slight spitting from above turns harder, as we reach the summit, comes in stinging blasts from the side
threatening to hurl us from the top of the mountain. We have been walking less than half an hour and are cold and drenched, not pausing at the top for fear of survival, thinking only of getting out of the fury.
Why do people go hiking in monsoon season?
Its bloody silly if you ask me!
The previous two days have taken their toll and my wobbly legs and exhausted body complain at the severity of the drop barely having the strength to hold my weight. Each time i take a step down I feel like my legs are about to crumple completely under me and we proceed slowly, dreaming of the hot springs at the bottom.
But we did it! We climbed the third highest mountain in Korea and saw some fantastically scenic sights. My back is much stronger, my fitness level higher and after three days I am beginning to walk normally again, losing the pigeon toed stagger of an old lady!
Monika is back at work and I am waiting for a package to arrive before departing these shores. The past couple of months has been really stressful. The universe has stepped in and exited me from my job and subsequently the country when I was too stubborn to do so myself. I'm currently shuffling options, looking forward to repairing my mental health on a beach for a while before considering what next to employ my time and energy usefully doing.
All suggestions gratefully received!
I hope you are all well and look forward to reconnecting with people as personally as email will allow when my head is removed from the pollution of mass consumerism.
#19 The whispering wind or, "more songs with the words "up" in them"
Flitting around the globe again I find myself in Beijing. I've been here just over a week, long enough to marvel over the irony of visiting a tibetan lamastery in China and to realise there is a place more polluted than Seoul. Wandering around today it finally clicked where all the grey comes from. The bicycle country is filled with cars and in a nation of over a billion people that's a lot of fumes even though most are still freewheeling happily around the traffic congestion. But there are little tricycles rolling around the back "hutongs" filled with things to sell including a huge amount of coal which must still be the basic fuel here.
Monika and I hired two wheeled transport of the old beijing style and trundled around the city the other day, following like sheep whenever serious traffic negotiation is needed. It's just crazy here. I crossed the road, with the pedestrian lights, at the instigation of a police man and a taxi still ran the light and nearly ran me over in front of the policeman who looked on blandly. Wobbling around the back streets was fun and even more so in a way down the major roads which all have about a lane or two's width devoted to a bicycle lane which is separated from the road by a median strip. Such joy! Pity about the pollution!
A couple of nights ago we went to see an acrobatics performance. Wow! As one woman we went with said, "the human body isn't meant to do things like that". They started of with balancing acts on balls and seesaws. Friendly big chinese dogs with two people inside
romped around and concluded by two dogs, four people, manipulating a big ball up and down a seesaw whilst wobbly standing, balancing it around. Contortionists pulled off impossible poses and then stacked themselves on each other, a boy balanced on about ten other people stood on a mini seesaw and flicked bowls on top of his head 30 feet in the air, acrobats jumped through hoops, twirled on long pieces of material, astounded and amazed to a marvelously tacky soundtrack. The finale was a group of women balancing on bicycles in a way that would leave any 12 year old bmx bandit gobsmacked; 11 people on a bike eventually which beat the family of four record on a pushbike i saw on my way from the airport.
Yesterday we climbed the Great Wall of China. In parts the word climb is not an exageration. Heading off to one of the remoter sections that hasn't been restored we walked, sauntered and lunched along the only human made structure my dad told me can be seen from outer space. Some places you can spend years near and never connect with but others get to you immediately. This was one. After half an hour or so we left the last of the wanna-be tour guides and drink sellers behind and found ourselves alone in the middle of nowhere. On top of an amazing mountain with only the birds swooping for their own lunch to keep us company. The music from the cable car eventually trailed off and the whispering wind continued the stories of marauding mongols the wanna-be guides had started. It was really, really beautiful. I hadn't expected much, a few old rocks and the kudos of saying I'd been there, but transfixed by the mountains with this really long wall rolling across it one wonders how the hell they built it. The mountains are incredibly steep. They just drop straight down and there's a guard post every couple hundred metres so there's no way you cound get near and not be seen. Cool.
Speaking of Mongols, tomorrow we're getting up really early and heading off on the trans-mongolian train, which later joins up with the trans-siberian. It takes 30 hours to get to Ulan Bataar and I'm really looking forward to chunks of space and blue sky. Yum!
Hope you're all well and if anyone has some books, info on photoshop, quark or design principles please let me know cause I'm looking for some training info for a month long training project I'm running soon. More news later, it's for a really good cause.
Monika and I hired two wheeled transport of the old beijing style and trundled around the city the other day, following like sheep whenever serious traffic negotiation is needed. It's just crazy here. I crossed the road, with the pedestrian lights, at the instigation of a police man and a taxi still ran the light and nearly ran me over in front of the policeman who looked on blandly. Wobbling around the back streets was fun and even more so in a way down the major roads which all have about a lane or two's width devoted to a bicycle lane which is separated from the road by a median strip. Such joy! Pity about the pollution!
A couple of nights ago we went to see an acrobatics performance. Wow! As one woman we went with said, "the human body isn't meant to do things like that". They started of with balancing acts on balls and seesaws. Friendly big chinese dogs with two people inside
romped around and concluded by two dogs, four people, manipulating a big ball up and down a seesaw whilst wobbly standing, balancing it around. Contortionists pulled off impossible poses and then stacked themselves on each other, a boy balanced on about ten other people stood on a mini seesaw and flicked bowls on top of his head 30 feet in the air, acrobats jumped through hoops, twirled on long pieces of material, astounded and amazed to a marvelously tacky soundtrack. The finale was a group of women balancing on bicycles in a way that would leave any 12 year old bmx bandit gobsmacked; 11 people on a bike eventually which beat the family of four record on a pushbike i saw on my way from the airport.
Yesterday we climbed the Great Wall of China. In parts the word climb is not an exageration. Heading off to one of the remoter sections that hasn't been restored we walked, sauntered and lunched along the only human made structure my dad told me can be seen from outer space. Some places you can spend years near and never connect with but others get to you immediately. This was one. After half an hour or so we left the last of the wanna-be tour guides and drink sellers behind and found ourselves alone in the middle of nowhere. On top of an amazing mountain with only the birds swooping for their own lunch to keep us company. The music from the cable car eventually trailed off and the whispering wind continued the stories of marauding mongols the wanna-be guides had started. It was really, really beautiful. I hadn't expected much, a few old rocks and the kudos of saying I'd been there, but transfixed by the mountains with this really long wall rolling across it one wonders how the hell they built it. The mountains are incredibly steep. They just drop straight down and there's a guard post every couple hundred metres so there's no way you cound get near and not be seen. Cool.
Speaking of Mongols, tomorrow we're getting up really early and heading off on the trans-mongolian train, which later joins up with the trans-siberian. It takes 30 hours to get to Ulan Bataar and I'm really looking forward to chunks of space and blue sky. Yum!
Hope you're all well and if anyone has some books, info on photoshop, quark or design principles please let me know cause I'm looking for some training info for a month long training project I'm running soon. More news later, it's for a really good cause.
#20 The trials of my entrails and other stories
Waking up on the trans-mongolian three and a half weeks ago I gazed out the window to a growing light over a flat featureless expanse. Unimpressed I turned over and went back to sleep. Sometime later I peeked out of my blanket again and was gobsmacked by the carnival of flora partying under the warm hue of the early morning sun. Pinks, oranges, purples, reds, yellows, I kid you not, harmonized with and reflected the beauty of each other comparing outfits of shapes and sizes. Pink shrubs that looked like delicate pieces of coral more at home in tropical waters. The landscape rolled out to meet a horizon of deep blue, that I had marvelled at previously in photographs but always ascribed to the trick of a photographer’s filter. This is what we had been dreaming of all those hazy polluted days in Korea and were not disappointed. The only trees we saw on our way through rolling panoramas were bright yellow and later discovered to be larch. Autumn had reached Mongolia in a dazzling array of uniformity.
We found a guesthouse in a huge big soviet style apartment block, rooms filled with bunk beds and shared kitchens. Prepared to become carnivores for the month we found a restaurant below that served up vegetarian food and rejoiced. The night before Monika and I had eaten on the train and opted for one meat choice of many served up with shitake mushrooms (yum)
and a truckload of msg (gross)! More fat and gristle than meat my stomach churned and I remembered my original impetus to stoke my mother’s ire and become vegie and it had nothing to do with animals rights or conservation back then! I picked at a couple of pieces and resigned myself to living on rice and potatoes for the next month. Fortuantely this was the worst I had to deal with and over the next few days we experimented with buuz offered by hosts in gers and actually came to like them. Buuz are mutton dumplings.
No-one eats lamb here and when our recent guide scored some meat to cook we asked her how she would do this. Taking a big pot she dropped the large cuts in and boiled them. Eeuugh!
The other main staple of the Mongols is dairy. In summer they live on white food, and in winter, red. Everytime we stopped at a ger we were offered dried cheese, a kind of hard chevre, yoghurt, milk tea, which is hot salty milk or my personal favourite (not)
airag, fermented mares milk which is supposed to be slightly alcoholic but I could never down more than a mouthful of the rancid tasting liquid. Cream was also offered and had a honeycombed outside and was kind of crunchy.
For our last night in the Gobi, Oogie (our guide) asked the family we were staying with to slaughter a goat for us so we could try a special dish she wanted to cook. A big fire was lit outside and rockes placed in the middle of it. A milk churn requisitioned, onions, salt, pepper and some token vegatables were placed inside along with the goats meat and the rocks when
they were almost melting hot. Then the concoction was placed in the middle of the now dying fire and left for some time. An interesting stew. When we offered the family some salad they tried it and declined more on the basis that this was horse food. How could we eat uncooked vegetables? I tried some of the goats meat and it tasted like tough lamb, no fat, quite tasty, but though my scruples for eating meat were softened, by now another problem had been in existence for a while.
I thought that the eating of the meat would be the difficult problem but I forgot that my body hasn’t digested anything that tough for twelve or thirteen years and it couldn’t figure out how to get rid of the intruding matter. Monika and I were soon charting our ablutions, from frequency, which wasn’t, to victorious descriptions of quantity, texture and colour when we
were successful. It sounds gross but this was serious business!
We found a guesthouse in a huge big soviet style apartment block, rooms filled with bunk beds and shared kitchens. Prepared to become carnivores for the month we found a restaurant below that served up vegetarian food and rejoiced. The night before Monika and I had eaten on the train and opted for one meat choice of many served up with shitake mushrooms (yum)
and a truckload of msg (gross)! More fat and gristle than meat my stomach churned and I remembered my original impetus to stoke my mother’s ire and become vegie and it had nothing to do with animals rights or conservation back then! I picked at a couple of pieces and resigned myself to living on rice and potatoes for the next month. Fortuantely this was the worst I had to deal with and over the next few days we experimented with buuz offered by hosts in gers and actually came to like them. Buuz are mutton dumplings.
No-one eats lamb here and when our recent guide scored some meat to cook we asked her how she would do this. Taking a big pot she dropped the large cuts in and boiled them. Eeuugh!
The other main staple of the Mongols is dairy. In summer they live on white food, and in winter, red. Everytime we stopped at a ger we were offered dried cheese, a kind of hard chevre, yoghurt, milk tea, which is hot salty milk or my personal favourite (not)
airag, fermented mares milk which is supposed to be slightly alcoholic but I could never down more than a mouthful of the rancid tasting liquid. Cream was also offered and had a honeycombed outside and was kind of crunchy.
For our last night in the Gobi, Oogie (our guide) asked the family we were staying with to slaughter a goat for us so we could try a special dish she wanted to cook. A big fire was lit outside and rockes placed in the middle of it. A milk churn requisitioned, onions, salt, pepper and some token vegatables were placed inside along with the goats meat and the rocks when
they were almost melting hot. Then the concoction was placed in the middle of the now dying fire and left for some time. An interesting stew. When we offered the family some salad they tried it and declined more on the basis that this was horse food. How could we eat uncooked vegetables? I tried some of the goats meat and it tasted like tough lamb, no fat, quite tasty, but though my scruples for eating meat were softened, by now another problem had been in existence for a while.
I thought that the eating of the meat would be the difficult problem but I forgot that my body hasn’t digested anything that tough for twelve or thirteen years and it couldn’t figure out how to get rid of the intruding matter. Monika and I were soon charting our ablutions, from frequency, which wasn’t, to victorious descriptions of quantity, texture and colour when we
were successful. It sounds gross but this was serious business!
#21 The goat that sneezed and more
A stout woman of forty or so with two tone harsh blue eyeshadow and red lipstick shuffles down the plane, her hair pulled back in a severe bun. She offered out refreshments MIAT style (the Mongolian national carrier): a tray laden with cheap lollies probably bought from the
container market in town. No prepackaged peanuts here with an offer of “tea or coffee ma’am?” Next came a tray with a choice of peach juice in a tetra pack or what turned out to be sugary fruit flavoured tea. A second round of lollies was brought out so the tiny full plane of 48 passengers wouldn’t feel neglected and then the wheels emerged and I prepared to land.
I stared at the completely bald landing apparatus then overhead to the storage lockers which had more resemblance to a bus shelf. My second internal flight in a country not home and this wasn’t Thai air. I wondered about the existence of transport regulations within Mongolia and checking out the chair backs which swung freely back and forth, no headrest to be seen, I
decided they didn’t exist. Looking at the contacted emergency sheet all I could make out was a picture of a man climbing out a window and settled on the Mongolian attitude that you shouldn’t do what you are afraid of and gazed down at the airstrip coming closer. The landing was fine but even though we had seen some small towns this couldn’t possibly be Dalanzagad, capital of Gobi province.
Are we here? Monika and I looked at each other in puzzlement as some of the passengers got off and others stayed put. The pilot and co-pilot get off the plane, one heads off for a piss in the middle of nowhere whilst the other lights up a cigarette. Deciding we haven’t been flying long enough for a refuel even for such a tiny plane we figure this is the smoko break and double over in hysterical laughter. A few minutes later we’re back in the air and I can see camels down below. This was the bizarre flight to end them all!
A couple of days later we're chilling out next to huge sandunes. No driving today and apart from a scheduled camel ride later on in the afternoon our time is our own. Checking out the goats I find them equally curious and one comes over looking for affection. Goats have great natural smiles and I scratch around its horns as it nuzzles into my hand and moves its head
around cat like. Just there, that’s it. Mmmmm good! Monika comes over and receives her own admirers and we stay like this for some time peaceful in the middle of
the desert. But an earthlike explosion and I’m absolutely covered with goat snot. Shocked and stunned for a split second I can’t help but co-explode into hysterics whilst pulling at my t-shirt and making grosslike noises.
Five or six rolls of film later I’m back in UB. Monika left a couple of days ago bound for Russia and I have a flight to Bangkok tomorrow. Plans on the Burma border have fallen through and I find myself with a month or so to put to good use until I can find a boat. Yesterday afternoon it started snowing here and by evening there was a thick blanket of fuzzy whiteness covering the city which made me very happy. Leaving the apartment at 10am this morning the thermometer read –5.5 degrees. It didn’t feel so cold but I’m sure over the next hour or so it dropped another 3 or 4 degrees and my face was stinging with pain. Ouch. We were lucky enough to catch the last of the warmish weather and camp lots but now its time to go and find a beach again. I feel like I’m embarking on a new phase of life but I don’t know where it’s going yet. Been out 13 months now, I’m young free and have enough cash in my pocket. Any ideas anyone?
container market in town. No prepackaged peanuts here with an offer of “tea or coffee ma’am?” Next came a tray with a choice of peach juice in a tetra pack or what turned out to be sugary fruit flavoured tea. A second round of lollies was brought out so the tiny full plane of 48 passengers wouldn’t feel neglected and then the wheels emerged and I prepared to land.
I stared at the completely bald landing apparatus then overhead to the storage lockers which had more resemblance to a bus shelf. My second internal flight in a country not home and this wasn’t Thai air. I wondered about the existence of transport regulations within Mongolia and checking out the chair backs which swung freely back and forth, no headrest to be seen, I
decided they didn’t exist. Looking at the contacted emergency sheet all I could make out was a picture of a man climbing out a window and settled on the Mongolian attitude that you shouldn’t do what you are afraid of and gazed down at the airstrip coming closer. The landing was fine but even though we had seen some small towns this couldn’t possibly be Dalanzagad, capital of Gobi province.
Are we here? Monika and I looked at each other in puzzlement as some of the passengers got off and others stayed put. The pilot and co-pilot get off the plane, one heads off for a piss in the middle of nowhere whilst the other lights up a cigarette. Deciding we haven’t been flying long enough for a refuel even for such a tiny plane we figure this is the smoko break and double over in hysterical laughter. A few minutes later we’re back in the air and I can see camels down below. This was the bizarre flight to end them all!
A couple of days later we're chilling out next to huge sandunes. No driving today and apart from a scheduled camel ride later on in the afternoon our time is our own. Checking out the goats I find them equally curious and one comes over looking for affection. Goats have great natural smiles and I scratch around its horns as it nuzzles into my hand and moves its head
around cat like. Just there, that’s it. Mmmmm good! Monika comes over and receives her own admirers and we stay like this for some time peaceful in the middle of
the desert. But an earthlike explosion and I’m absolutely covered with goat snot. Shocked and stunned for a split second I can’t help but co-explode into hysterics whilst pulling at my t-shirt and making grosslike noises.
Five or six rolls of film later I’m back in UB. Monika left a couple of days ago bound for Russia and I have a flight to Bangkok tomorrow. Plans on the Burma border have fallen through and I find myself with a month or so to put to good use until I can find a boat. Yesterday afternoon it started snowing here and by evening there was a thick blanket of fuzzy whiteness covering the city which made me very happy. Leaving the apartment at 10am this morning the thermometer read –5.5 degrees. It didn’t feel so cold but I’m sure over the next hour or so it dropped another 3 or 4 degrees and my face was stinging with pain. Ouch. We were lucky enough to catch the last of the warmish weather and camp lots but now its time to go and find a beach again. I feel like I’m embarking on a new phase of life but I don’t know where it’s going yet. Been out 13 months now, I’m young free and have enough cash in my pocket. Any ideas anyone?
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