Buddhist Temple StayNaesosa Temple and Byeonsan National Park, South Korea

Our excursion to Naesosa Temple, a Buddhist residence in Byeonsan National Park, started with a visit to Chaeseokgang, a coastal park known for its unusual rock formations. We walked along the coast for a while and then explored the town - it primarily featured traditional seafood restaurants and hotels, but we also stumbled upon a mini-theme park with a few rides. The locals got a kick out of seeing the funny-looking waegukin (foreigners), and Jay enjoyed the chance to talk with people were so intrigued by us, even if it was just idle chatter as we were warming up next to a small firepit.

We then made our way into the mountains of Byeonsan National Park. We approached the temple through a path lined in (among others) pine trees, which smelled amazing. We then had a bit of time to explore the beautiful temple grounds before settling in.

After we'd had the chance to explore we were given clothes to wear - large pink-ish jackets and beige pants in the style of the monks outfits (we assume the lowest-ranking ones), but not the same colors as the traditional attire. Layering was not a problem, as these clothes were large enough to fit over whatever we were wearing (legging, jeans, 2 sweaters, a jacket). Once we were all dressed, we put away our bags and were told about the temple rules courtesy of a local translator : eat everything on our plates, clean our own dishes, bow if we cross paths with a monk, walk with your hands placed upon one another in front of you (not behind, and no pockets), and other "be respectful" things. We were taught how to properly bow in ceremonies (a full 9-step maneuver reminiscent of yoga salutations to the sun, but much simpler) and ate dinner. One of the rules was "silence while eating", so everyone was either awkwardly glancing at each other, or simply looking at the food and eating in silence. Afterwards, as we went outside to wash our dishes in the 3 buckets of cold water, we discussed our impressions - I found it peaceful and felt that the silence allowed me to concentrate more fully on my meal, but Jay states that it was how he imagined a first night in prison might be like. Silence seemed to have distressed the majority of our companions, one of which bursted out with "Oh my god, weren't you all just dying to talk in there?" once she'd cleared the dining hall's doorway.

We then attended an evening of devotional chanting (yebul) in the main hall. It was beautiful - an intricately carved wooden building with an amazingly detailed roof, paintings on the walls, a giant bell in one corner, and a giant platform in the center with 3 gold statues of Buddha - the primary Buddha and 2 bodhivistas of wisdom and compassion. These statues were backed by an incredible painting of Buddha, complimenting the others on the wall. We entered through the side door (as the main door is for the monks only), half-bowed to the Buddhas, and walked along the wall, behind the statues, to pick up cushions to sit on. We then continued around to the other side of the statues and sat in the main area, leaving space in the center for the monks (2-3) to enter and sit. Candles were lit, incense was burning, and it was beautiful.

A monk soon came in and made his way to the giant bell in the upper left corner of the room, where he kneeled and began singing, occasionally chiming the bell. Another monk came in and stopped before the statues. He sang as well and we mimicked his movements - many full bows and half bows and more full bows - and then we stood, praying, while the monks sang in harmony. The song was absolutely beautiful. They sang for perhaps 5-8 minutes, then we all bowed more and departed in silence.

We able to learn more about the bowing after we got back to our "dorm" - one of the monks came to explain some of the ideas of Buddhism and answer questions through the translator, himself a Buddhist-in-training. He/they explained that Buddha is not considered a god and the practice of bowing is not so much in reverence as it is an act of humbling ourselves. Additionally, Korean Buddhism has a strong emphasis on wishes (or prayer, perhaps), which is apparently not as emphasized in other strains of the philosophy. There is an idea that if you bow (fully, the whole 9-steps) 10,000 times, whatever wish you focus on will come true. When asked whether Buddha himself grants the wish, the monk replied that Buddha guides you through the process at first (as given form through the first 5,000 bows or so), but after that you are more empowered to help yourself and it is you yourself that provides the strength to fulfill your wish. The exact answers were not always clear, as our translator’s English was not perfect, but it was an interesting experience nonetheless.

After the question and answer period, the monk led us in a short meditation before he left. We then made lotus lanterns before going to bed early in order to survive the 3:30 wake-up the next morning. After we woke up for the very pre-dawn yebul the next day, we were not as confused about the ceremony, but we were significantly more sleep deprived than we had been the night before. Regardless, it was still a beautiful and slightly haunting ceremony.

Next, we had another short meditation before a monastic meal ceremony for breakfast. We cleaned our dishes and had some free time for about an hour (I napped). Our next activity was to make prayer bead strands: 108 sandalwood beads, which we were to string into a necklace. Monks who do this must bow for every bead they place, concentrating on a wish they want fulfilled. However, as we were newbies and we didn’t have all day (our hike was scheduled to start in less than two hours), we were instructed to bow only once for every five beads. Maybe this means only one fifth of our wish comes true - I’m not sure about the specifics. I enjoyed the exercise, as the smell of the beads was wonderful and the room was very quiet. Jay, on the other hand, had a bunch of particularly difficult beads that had very small or only partially made holes in them. So, in an oh-so-Buddhist-fashion, he took a pocket knife out and spent most of his time jabbing the beads into submission until he learned to burn the string into a needle-like tip for easier threading.

When we had all finished our bows and beading, we left for the nearby national park to enjoy a stroll through the beautiful mountains and lakes. We got a few strange looks from other hikers, as we were still in our highly flattering monastic outfits, but the walk was nice and the sights were lovely. When we returned to the temple, we had a short lunch, packed, and cleaned out our rooms before heading back towards Seoul. It was a very interesting and lovely weekend and, although neither of us are willing to become monks any time soon, we enjoyed the experience.

Seoraksan National Park, South Korea

Seoraksan National Park is a beautiful mountain range in Eastern South Korea. Our bus ride took about 5 hours to reach it. Once we arrived in the general area, the traffic became horrible, as many people had flocked to the park to get out of the city for the weekend. We arrived in the afternoon and walked to the park entrance, as it was faster than sitting in traffic. We passed a huge statue of Buddha, some beautiful trees, and split up. A few people took the cable car to a waterfall hike, but most of us (including Jay and myself) took the Ulsanbawi rock course.

This hike was not steep at first and led us up along a river to a huge rock that can be wobbled if pushed (this was easy to recognize due to the large crowd of people lining up to push it). This area was strange in that suddenly there was a large group of people, places to sit, and a small store selling food and souvenirs. We watched the rock-pushing for a while longer and then continued on towards Ulsanbawi.

From here the trail got steep, with hundreds and hundreds of steps (some rock, some steel, some so vertical that we were really climbing ladders). It was very cold and windy and it got colder as every bit of progress we made took us a little bit more out of the rock's shelter from the wind.

We finally made it to the top and admired the gorgeous view while attempting not to be toppled by the wind. The rock formation was beautiful and, although we've seen similar formations on other mountains in Korea, it still stuns us with how very different it is from mountains in other parts of the world.

We made our way down quickly, pausing only for freshly baked waffles filled with honey near the wobble-rock, and soon made it to the bottom - just as it become too dark to see where we were going.

Once everyone had returned, we took a short bus ride to our hotel for the night and set out to find dinner. Jay and I went to a traditional Korean restaurant where he had bulgogi and I had duenchang jjigae. We went to sleep, ready for another hike the next day.

In the morning, we were cold but surprisingly not in any pain. Apparently going hiking every weekend, rather than destroying our knees actually gets our bodies into a mildly decent state of fitness. Hurray! Either way, the hike for the second day was much easier than the Ulsanbawi course. We walked along a rocky river for a while, enjoying the trees (just losing the last of their fall leaves), the water and the rocks, not to mention the crisp, fresh air.

The end of the walk was not as impressive as Ulsanbawi, but it was relaxing; a short waterfall over rocks and some small pools of water. Some people stopped to have a snack, others turned back to explore unknown parts of the park before lunch, and some (including us) took pictures until our hands were numb. We then headed back for lunch before getting back on the road for a long bus ride back to Seoul.

An alternate realityGeumgangsan, North Korea

Our trip to North Korea was a surreal event. As we passed into the DMZ, we had to hand over our cellphones and were not allowed to take pictures while the bus was driving. When the bus reached the 38th parallel, the actual divide within the DMZ, we left our cellphones and the bus behind, taking all of our things with us through immigration where they inspected our passports and cameras before letting us pass through and board a new bus. We were officially out of South Korea as our passports stated, but we were not officially in North Korea. We would be simply gone until we reappeared in South Korea and got our passports re-stamped. Perhaps this is a method of preventing difficulties for western travelers whose home countries are not on good terms with North Korea, but I have to say, even US officials would probably be able to figure out that a two day sojourn from South Korea with no location in the meanwhile is not physically possible. Oh well. Now we were in North Korea, if officially nowhere. We boarded the new bus, and were informed that we must never take pictures or even look at our cameras while the bus was moving because North Korean guards were placed along the roadside with a flag in one hand and a very big gun in the other. If they saw someone take a picture, they would board the bus and confiscate the camera. Also, for fear of heavy fines, we were cautioned to be careful not to provoke the soldiers in any way, such as pointing from the bus. When there is a man in an army uniform with a gun pointed at your bus, you do as your told.

We passed through the DMZ, observing the beautiful scenery. Aside from the occasional tank and the still-posted sign stating: "Number one enemy: USA", the DMZ is a very beautiful place. Having been allowed years to flourish without human presence, the area has become a wildlife refuge, full of vegetation and quite beautiful in contrast to the tanks and checkpoints.

Eventually we reached the main square near Geumgang Mountain: A tourist hub with restaurants, hotels, convenience stores, and an acrobatic theater. We slept and ate in this area and took designated shuttles to other places: the beach, various hikes in the mountains, hot springs, etc., but we were not allowed to leave the square on our own, or a North Korean soldier would follow us (gun included) and politely suggest that we return.

We went on two hikes in the mountains - the first was a trek through a very steep area with many impressive jagged cliffs rising above us, and the second was an easier climb to a waterfall and then to a high peak over looking a series of blue-green lakes below. Both hikes were beautiful and strikingly quiet - the lack of cellphones, plus the enforced rule that people come on shuttles led to hikes on which, if anyone was nearby, it was most likely a large group that would either pass you or you could pass them and then you were alone again.

The hiking was beautiful and the trip was amazing, but it perhaps raised more questions than it answered - what is the life of a North Korean like? What do they think of us, the tourists who come in with a lot of money and eat at restaurants that serve full meals in a country where most of the population is starving? What do they know about us, or about other countries? How do they feel about North Korea’s relative isolation? Do they have family in the South? How would their lives change if the Koreas reunite again?

Although the trip was expensive and most of the money will go to the government and not to the people of North Korea, we are glad that we had the opportunity to see the country - even if we only saw a tiny portion.

On our way out, our guide informed us that we could wave to the North Korean soldier who stood just on the northern side of the 38th parallel. So as we passed, the entire bus of about 40 westerners leaned to the right and waved to the soldier. He did not blink, smile or react at all, but remained standing rigidly straight, gun pointing straight ahead. Comforting. As we passed the divide, a South Korean guard was on our left side. We all leaned to the left and waved at him. He waved enthusiastically back, gun at his side. I can understand why the North always seems to be more on the offensive, and even more powerful than the South (without the help of other countries), but I have to say, we liked that southern soldier a whole lot more. It was good to come back home.

The Demilitarized ZoneSouth Korea

The Demilitarized Zone is the buffer on either side of the 38th Parallel, the armistice line dividing Korea into North and South. It is famous for its tension, as it represents not a permanent and peaceful divide, but rather a tenuous cease fire, while technically still remaining at war. Since its creation, there have been many incidents to add even more tension - the ax incident, infiltration tunnels, etc.

We expected it to be a somewhat scary place, imagining the famous image of Panmunjeon within the DMZ where Northern and Southern soldiers stand mere yards from each other (Recreated quite amazingly for the setting in a B-Boy movie, seen here). Instead we found it to be a strange, but not frightening place. We first went to Imjingak, an area with memorials, a small observatory deck, and an amusement park across the street. No idea why, but there you have it.

We continued on to the 3rd infiltration tunnel, where we watched a documentary about the area. It highlighted the violence of the war and the suffering of separated families, but then switched themes quite rapidly to show a more positive view: the DMZ, having been untouched for many years now, has become a wildlife refuge.

The documentary was rife with excessively positive propaganda, and drilled home the notion of hope rising out of despair and life out of tragedy (just to show that the South isn't immune to its own form of political propaganda).

We then proceeded to the museum, which catalogued the violence, aggression, and overall just plain sneakiness of the North. They dug a total of 4 (if I recall) infiltration tunnels in an attempt to infiltrate the South, each time getting closer and closer towards Seoul. If they did manage bring their army through one of the tunnels (some of which have enough room for up to 3-4 soldiers waking side-by-side), they would pop up mere meters away from the heart of the South.

After that, we were allowed to go into one of the tunnels, although only to a certain distance. After that limit, it's blocked by a giant wall of concrete.

Overall, it was a rather odd experience. I (Jay) have to add that it was definitely a tad disappointing, as I was under the impression we would be traveling right up to the main border, at Panmunjeon, which is what everyone automatically thinks of when the words "Demilitarized Zone" come up. As such, it was a let-down from my expectations, but that aside, it was an (if nothing else) educational visit.

Ginseng festival and hikingPunggi and Sobaeksan National Park, South Korea

This weekend, Jay and I went on our first organized tour, to the Punggi Ginseng Festival. Punggi is a small town near Yeongju, an area known for its ginseng and, from the look of their orchards, apples. We left early on Saturday morning to catch our tour's 7:00 am bus from Seoul. the tour group we used, Adventure Korea, had been recommended to us by other teachers at our school. It organizes weekend trips based out of Seoul and caters primarily, but not exclusively, to the English-teaching community. Anyone can go, and as such, our bus was full - 40 passengers, being foreigners from America, Canada, England, South Africa or Australia (mostly Canada though. Good Lord there are a lot of Canadians), all teaching English here in South Korea. Apprehensively, as Jay and I both normally are when large groups of native-English speakers gather together, we settled in, shocked to see so many caucasians in one place.

Our drive lasted about 4 hours, as Yeongju is significantly southeast of Seoul. Oh the way, we stopped at a couple rest stops for food. The first one we saw surprised us in that it was nothing like the bare-bones toilet-sink-bench variety that you find along highways in the States, but a full-blown center of shops, restaurants (people actually drive out here to come to work!), and restrooms, plus a decent-sized jungle gym for kids, a small garden, a "petting zoo" (3 chickens and a couple of rabbits, all looking bored out of their minds) and a designated stretching area with a large amount of diagrams and directions, just in case you were confused about how to best go about your specific stretching needs.

A few hours later we arrived at the Ginseng festival. It was similar in layout to the Palo Alto Art Festival or the Portland Saturday Market, but on a much large scale. First we had to dodge our way through the parking lot and the minor vendors, and then we came to the food. Oh, the food. Stall after stall of boiling soup, stuffed squid (with their own legs, nonetheless), roasting pig, blood sausage, pancakes, fish and other way too many varieties of food that shouldn't be allowed near breathing people. When I say "stall," the proper word is really "tent," as each place had plenty of tables and chairs to accomodate its diners.

After the food, we continued on through smaller stands where vendors sold gingko nuts, chestnuts, beads and trinkets. Next came 2 tiny restrooms, and along the river was a stand for pony rides for the kids (with this lovely carved item bobbing up and down in the water. The children seemed confused but everyone else found it either amusing or scandalous). This next area of the festival had 4 rows of tents selling ginseng roots, ginseng wine, ginseng snacks, and so on. Interspersed were also craft tents (pottery, weaving), photography galleries, history mini-museums, and the traditional tea ceremonies. Our group took turns (20 people at a time) on a large stage to properly learn how to peel ginseng roots. We were each supplied with a small "basket" [Ed. note: Jessie's writing appears to say "hash elf" - not quite sure what that is], a paper towel, a sharp bamboo stick (halved), and a ginseng root. Jay named his Betty.

We were taught to gently-but-quickly peel the skin from the anthropomorphic root using the sharpened bamboo. Everyone promptly made a minor race out of it as some Koreans with a film crew conveniently stopped by to marvel at the foreigners trying to peel ginseng. We were quite the spectacle. Afterwards, we got to keep our roots and taste some fresh ginseng. The Koreans believe this to be, quite simply, a miracle drug. It cures or aides in curing any illness, gives you energy, and (like all things in Korea that you would not want to put in your mouth - dog meat, abalone, silk worms, poisonous snake liquor) gives men "stamina". Perhaps that's why the "funny" wooden object from the river was such a sight here.

Ginseng tastes somewhere between a radish and a carrot, but somewhat earthier, maybe like potato skin. I wouldn't eat it on a regular basis, but it wasn't vile and it theoretically cures everything, so what the hell, right? [Ed. note: As of Dec. 2007, neither of us have yet to eat ginseng again. Maybe we're allergic, who knows.]

After exploring the area and a bit of Punggi, we returned to the food area for lunch - Jay and I shared stuffed squid with blood sausage (quite a good combination), then made our way back to the bus. We recovered our books and sat on some rocks lining the river where the buses were parked, reading for a good hour before we moved on. One thing about Adventure Korea: they give you ample free time.

During that time, a fearless dragonfly visited us and made friends with Jay.

We then went to a ginseng harvest and helped to dig up the roots - an activity accomplished with a scythe-like tool and done with care. Although we were told beforehand that we could not keep the roots we harvested, the farmers changed their mind and, along with a milky alcoholic ginseng beverage, they sent us off with one or two roots for each of us. We suspect this was due to the fact that many of us fell short in the caring of our roots and, in Jay's case, went for maiming the poor creatures instead....and chipped ginseng doesn't sell well.

After working the fields, we boarded the bus again and head for Seonbichon, our weekend accommodations. We stayed at a traditional Joseon-era village, with some slightly modernized amenities. That is to say, the buildings were preserved in the traditional architectural style that they had been built in some 100+ years ago, but they also had "ondals" - a glorious heating system that runs hot water through pipes under the floors on which we slept.

Before going to sleep we ventured into the mini-town of restaurants in the village. All were traditional style places, meaning that we took off our shoes and sat on a raised floor to eat (there were western tables and benches as well, but when in Rome...). The village seemed to be fresh out of meat - not just this restaurant, but the entirety of the region - so galbi and bulgogi were out, making the menu significantly more confusing. Luckily we sat by 2 other tour members, an older couple - a Korean woman and a Dutch man. The lady helped us to understand the menu and ended up with bibimbap (rice plus lots of side dishes and you just mix them all up into a glorious and very munchable mini-meal) and duinchang jiggae, which is a stew made with fermented soybean paste much stronger than the kind found in Japanese miso, and smells quite unpleasant. The taste however, is delicious, and once you realize this, the smell sort of grows on you.

After dinner we went to bed early in preparation for our hike the next morning. We got up at around 7, had breakfast provided by our tour (bread and PBJ), and most of us headed to Sobaeksan National Park. Those who didn't want to hike went instead to a temple for the day.

Our hike was supposed to take 5 hours (3 up, 2 down), but our leader was somewhat overzealous and made the trip in about 3 hours total. Jay and I held to the original plan with a moderate portion of the group in order to take pictures of all the lovely views. We were passed on a long flight of stairs from behind by a Korean woman (looking 40, so probably 60), who was belting out a song the whole way up, singing along with her little radio. And although the stairs were seemingly endless on the ascent, it was actually the descent that killed most of us (Jay and I both had shaking legs and my knees threatened mutiny).

The views were lovely and it was wonderful to get out of the city for a while. After the rest of us non-mountain goats caught up with the temple-bound group, we returned to the Festival to make some ginseng wine. Jay participated in this while I simply looked on in amusement; 20 foreigners get to peel ginseng roots again, this time with a much larger group of onlookers and a much more adament film crew, all in the middle of one of the most active tents. The instructor who was next to Jay clearly deemed his efforts futile and took the job from him to finish the job herself. The resulted in a his being the first to finish and proceed to the next section. He got up and went to a nearby table, where he was given a decorative bottle. It was filled with soju, Korea's hard alcohol of choice (basically Vodka), and gave the root to a man who plopped the ginseng root right on in, screwing a cap on top to keep it tucked away. Then he posed with the bottle for about five different (and giant) cameras before we made our way out.

When everyone was finished, we boarded the bus and headed back to Seoul. We were pleasantly surprised by how the whole experience had turned out and promptly signed up for a variety of other trips with Adventure Korea.

The wine bottle now sits proudly on our shelf. We doubt we'll be touching it anytime soon, as the taste of soju is absolutely unappealing to us and the prospect of adding ginseng to improve the taste seems somewhat counterproductive. Either way, it's a lovely souvenir from a lovely time. Hopefully if we go hiking more, we won't hurt as much on the way down or on the next day.

Classes, Vacation, etc.Ilsan, South Korea

It's been a while since we've updated - partially because we've been busy, but mostly because the internet (or Jay's computer) was being obstinant, leaving my computer as the only one with internet access for about a month. Oh, and also, we're lazy.

So, life in Ilsan. We're now about to finish our second full month of teaching, with all the attendance sheets, daily logs, homework corrections and student evaluations that go with it. I could say there's a lot of paperwork. It would, however, be more accurate to say that there is a lot of paperwork for teachers at any school, but the plethora of useless paperwork at this particular school is quite impressive. We have daily attendance sheets (including the pages covered in every class) that are copied by the Korean women at the front desk, class lists of all our students, monthly curriculum plans that change weekly, and at the end of the month we write evaluations for every student and send it to the parents... But the thing is, only a few of those parents will be able to read the English evaluations. Additionally, since this is a private school and the enrollment of the students is entirely dependent upon the happiness of the parents, we do not ever give poor evaluations. In each category, on a scale of 1-5 (1 being "needs extra help" and 5 being "excellent), we need to consult our co-teachers before ever marking anything below 3 ("good"). Because, clearly if a child is not good at doing his or her homework, it's the teacher's fault and the child should simply go to a different school. Oh well. But it makes me wish I could teach in a school like the ones I went to - if the student is a horrible slacker, rip 'im (or 'er) a new one on the evaluation and the parents will punish the student - not the teacher. 

Paperwork aside, we're both pretty pleased with our jobs - we love our Korean co-teachers, with whom we work every day, and like the other foreign teachers a lot, but we work at a separate building and rarely see them. Our students - or the majority thereof - are wonderful kids. The exceptions are thankfully few and far between and can be kept in line - they are easy to frighten into behaving. At least, for me they are. Jay has some sort of nice-guy complex and he won't kick students out of class for speaking Korean or being rude. On the plus side, he'll learn some new Korean words.

A few weeks ago, I decided to change my routine a bit: trading in the tried-and-true method of teaching English through English, I opted for a day of clucking and whistling instead. Actually, I got sick and lost my voice, but it certainly did change things! It was a true test of my kids, as my first class was a bunch of rambunctious seven- and eight-year-olds. Upon seeing that I was unable to talk loudly, they behaved perfectly throughout the lesson, did their workbooks with no arguments or distractions (and without even teasing the slower student, who takes a long time to do her work), sat silently and patiently as I corrected their work, until we could play a review game. I love those kids! I knew they were good, but I never would have imagined how well-behaved and patient they'd be - normally they can't even sit still for one minute.
But even with the older kids and the few "problem" classes, my being unable to speak made talking in Korean (even whispering) an impossibility, so it actually led to more practice of English - and an overall quieter classroom. Hmmm, maybe I should adopt this cluck-whistle-approach more often. Either way, I was impressed with the results. But I am also happy to have my voice back.

On the note of schedules, our classes changed a bit this last month - Jay has 7 ECC (non-kindergarten) classes on Monday-Wednesday-Friday, and another 6 ECC classes on Tuesday-Thursday, plus a kindergarten class of a whopping 2 students. I have 7 classes every day - one set on MWF, and another set on TTH - all at ECC. We're tired, but enjoying it. Now if only they could add a "nap time" class in the middle, it would be perfect. "Hello! Today we're going to learn about nap time. Everyone, say 'nap time'. Good! Now, how do you spell nap time? Good job! Okay, now let me demonstrate. Now, you have to be very quiet for this demonstration..."

Truly, the Korean work ethic is rather ridiculous. Our boss expects us to come in on various Saturdays for seminars/decorating classrooms/going hiking with the parents of the kindergarten kids... Actually, only Jay has to do the last one, as I don't technically teach at the kindergarten. Additionally, as ours is a private school, it doesn't have the kind of summer and winter vacations that schools in the US (or even public schools in Korea) have - there are no vacations that are even a full week in duration. This week was in fact our longest vacation - 4 days off - for Chuseok, the Korean Thanksgiving holiday. As this is the huge vacation of the year, everyone travels at this time - either out of Korea or within Korea to visit family members. Plane tickets are therefore very expensive, so we decided to stay in the Seoul area for the vacation and rest. Yes, we are lame and cheap. But on the plus side, we went hiking to Bukhansan National Park, a mountainous area just north of Seoul.

We woke up around 6AM and took the subway for about 90 minutes to Dobong-san, the station nearest to the beginning of our hike. Finding the trail was easy, as we simply followed the masses of Koreans in hiking gear past the many stalls selling food, backpacks, hats, hiking poles (we paused to buy these), gloves, hiking boots, water, soju, soda, and other random items, past a small temple to a set of various trailheads. We headed towards Jaun-bong peak, and simply followed the signs pointing in that direction at every fork in the trail. As a result of our early start and of our general lack of recent hiking activity, Jay moaned and whined for the first few hours of the hike, insisting upon rest stops every few feet. So, it was a slow climb at the beginning.

Along the way, we certainly had company. Although we knew that hiking is popular in Korea, we didn't expect so many people to be on the trail. This may have been silly, as the park is right next to Seoul, but oh well. Also, the Koreans have their own form of Smokey the Bear. I'm not sure what his name is, but he seems quite popular.

After lunch, the going got a bit tough, as the trail bottlenecked into a very narrow area that was very steep granite - including handrails! I had wondered why some hikers seemed to have rock-climbing gloves on, but I understood why when we reached this point. Jay loved this part, though. Fricking billy goat.

The view from the top would have been more impressive if there weren't so many people on all sides of us. Most of the pictures we took from here are in the Bukhansan gallery.

The way down was thankfully not nearly as steep as the way up, though my knees were hurting. Jay enjoys the downhill portion, though. I wonder how I always manage to hike with people who hate the uphill but love the downhill... Clearly they must all be crazy.

We reached the Mangwolsa temple about halfway down the trail, but didn't go inside, as we were tired and inappropriately dressed for a temple.

At the end of our hike we went through a lovely mini-town in the outskirts of Seoul that was very laid back and reminded us of a combination of Venice, Berkeley, and some city in Austria. We then proceeded to the next subway stop and the 90-minute ride home. All in all it was a lovely day and a wonderful hike, but now we're sore and tired. Maybe we're out of shape? Hmm.

Our classes start up again tomorrow, then we have the weekend, then two more days before our session ends and we have a day off on Wednesday. Hopefully we'll get another chance to go hiking sometime soon before our legs forget how to.

For now, we have to fill out student evaluations again and get ready to go back to work in the morning (and by morning, we mean 2:00 pm). Good night!

Home cooking, vacations, and Jehovah's witnessesIlsan, South Korea

Today is Korea's Liberation Day, a celebration of Japan's surrender at the end of World War II and Korea's resulting independence. Flags are displayed all over and it's a public holiday (hence my writing this instead of teaching). 

The next big holiday coming up is Chuseok, equivalent to the U.S. Thanksgiving. For Chuseok, we will have four days off from work (Monday through Thursday) and of course the proceeding weekend, so we will be leaving Ilsan for a while. We'd hoped to go with Mark and some of his co-workers to Beijing, but the tour we were interested in  is already full and most plane tickets at this point (before we even have our first paycheck) are prohibitively expensive. So, our next plan of action is to attempt to book flights to Jeju, South Korea's most tropical area - an island off the southern coast of the peninsula. Known as Korea's "Hawaii", it is a famous destination for Korean newlyweds and Japanese businessmen, so booking seats during such a busy time may be difficult, but we'll see what happens. :-)

On a completely unrelated note, let's talk about food. Of course, this is mostly to reassure the worried Californian mothers that we are in fact getting our nutrients and daily vitamins, but it may be interesting to others as well... 

Although it is entirely affordable to eat out (and well!) for every meal, we prefer to make our own food. However, it would NOT be affordable to go to the grocery store and buy steaks, western pasta sauces, and ice cream. So it's a good thing that we aren't interested in that sort of a dinner. Instead, we're trying to adapt to a sort-of Korean style of eating, with a reasonable budget and my forays into cooking without a stove... this is what we've come up with: salmon steak cooked in soy sauce, rice vinegar, garlic, pepper and olive oil with white rice; watermelon; various kim chi dishes; fermented yellow radish; a spicy squid tentacle side dish, and soju. On the note of soju, it is not like sake. It's more like vodka. And we bought a crappy version, apparently. Either way, we're not terribly fond of it.

So that's about it. The salmon is interchangeable with pan-cooked marinated tofu and other types of fish. The fish here is amazingly fresh - in a supermarket they have tanks of live fish -cuttlefish, crabs as large as our torsos, and a basic silvery-fish (no clue about the name) in a simulated stream... Plus you can buy any and all parts of the fish here - it's good that we're not squeamish. In fact, we would have happily bought a whole squid, but it was so much cheaper to get a different type of fish that we didn't. Maybe next time. But it's entirely possible to feed both of us with a main course of fish that costs less than $3 total - amazing. Chris and Mona - you should be happy to know that the beef is absurdly expensive in comparison and, since Korea's now importing beef from the U.S. (oops), we aren't going to bother. Oh, and in the way that we can buy cheap top ramen in the States, they sell fresh udon noodles that are pre-packaged with spices. Add some veggies or fish and voila, amazing dinner.

Also, we're becoming steadily more accustomed to teaching - we've now taught for two weeks, know most of our students by name, and are not nearly as tired at the end of the day as we were when we started. Despite one or two problem students apiece, we're enjoying teaching a lot, and are discovering new techniques and games for the kids each day. In fact, we're to the point that it only takes about an hour or two to prepare for all our classes, paperwork is now a simple matter finished in a few minutes, and we have time and energy at night not only to cook and eat dinner, but also to walk around Ilsan and see where we live.

So there it is - updates on the past week and a half. The only other story of note is an interesting wake-up call that I received last Saturday. Exhausted from the week, Jay and I were trying to sleep in when the doorbell rang. Granted, it was about 10:30 in the morning and not an unreasonable time to visit, but we were very confused because rather than the typical "ding-dong" chime, the doorbell plays a video-game style mini-song. Assuming it was someone related to the school who had come to fix our air-conditioner (that currently empties water into a large bucket, which must be emptied on a daily basis), I went to the door-phone and responded in English, "hello?". No answer, so I fixed the nest of hair on my head into a reasonable door-answering state, and went to open the door. Two women were walking up the stairs, but hurried down excitedly when I opened the door and started speaking rapidly in Korean. I mumbled that I didn't understand Korean... English? they asked. Yes, English. So the younger woman, who was dressed in what almost looked like a cross between traditional Korean dress and the attire of the American pilgrims, rifled through a miniature book and handed me a page in English. I skimmed from the first line "Even though you and I don't speak the same language...." to halfway down the page "message of God. Jehovah's..." and then shook my head quickly and handed the book back to her, closing the door as she said something that sounded strongly like "sorry". 

I was awoken by a Jehovah's witness. For the first time in my life. ...in Korea. I don't quite know how to deal with that, but Lindsay, a Canadian teacher at our school, said that it's actually quite common. What did I miss when researching Korea? I mean, I know that it's supposed to be a huge notch in the Christian missionaries' belts, but door-to-door proselytizing? I wasn't expecting that. And it would have to be in the Christian fashion too. I mean, it wouldn't bother me to leave for school and have some monk chilling out on the stairs and meditating meaningfully, but do you have to ring the doorbell? Is waking me up and pointing a book at me really going to make me think "oh, you're right! How have I been so wrong? Sign me up for this redemption business!" ? I think not.

Our first week of teachingIlsan, South Korea

Holy crap, we're tired. It's pouring rain, and we're hiding at home and trying to recouperate. We each have 14 classes total (7 on MWF, 6 on TuTh, and one daily summer intensive course) and, including time to plan our lessons and fill out general daily paperwork, we're at the school from around 11 in the morning to 9 or 10 at night. Our courses range from the youngest children, about 5-7 years old, who do not know the alphabet, to the oldest students, in high school, who will be studying abroad soon. Despite being tired, despite the huge range of lesson plans we have to prepare, and despite the 70+ names we have to remember, we're loving it. The students (or the vast majority thereof) are wonderful, the variety of lessons is exciting, and no matter how tired we are at the end of the day, we are energized for every class by the students themselves. I'm sure that we'll have more to say on this later but for now, we are very happy with our decision to come here and to teach. We've both found that we love teaching (so far), and are inspired to work hard to teach well. Hurray for inspiration! And now for a most-welcomed weekend of relaxation and laziness.

Explorations of Seoul and random acts of kindnessIlsan and Seoul, South Korea

Taking advantage of the long weekend before starting our new jobs on Wednesday, we decided to explore Seoul a bit with Mark. We looked on a huge map, saw two palaces and a large green park-ish looking area near the Anguk station, and decided to go there. It took about 20 minutes to get from Mark's apartment to the Anguk station, but as soon as we got off the metro, Mark realized that he'd left his backpack on the train. Oops. As the train had already departed again, we went to an information booth and tried to explain the situation. Utilizing a great deal of creative sign language, we got our point across and he told us to go to the Station Office, pointing behind us. Looking in the direction that he was pointing we saw (A) a huge flight of stairs going up and (B) a large corridor and some turnstiles on the same floor as ours. We started walking towards the stairs, looking confused, and an older man who had over heard our linguistically-challenged "conversation" with the booth attendant tried to explain how to get to the station office. We understood stairs, left, and walking from the ordeal, and made our way for the stairs. Halfway up, a younger man chased us down, and tried to explain that we were going the wrong way. We were confused, so instead of giving up, he motioned for us to come with him, and led us back down the stairs, down the corridor, and to the turnstiles.

On the other side of the turnstiles was a small room and he pointed to it, saying "Station Office". We were ready to use our metro cards to get us through the turnstiles again (as we'd already left the train area). However, the Very Helpful Man motioned for us to wait, and ran over to the information booth. He came back with a temporary ticket to get himself through the turnstile, went through, and went into the Station Office. After a moment in which we all stood shocked at the trouble he was going through for a few idiotic foreigners who'd left a bag on a subway train, he emerged with a station attendant, who used special tickets to allow us through the turnstiles as well. He led us to the Station Office and the Very Helpful Man waved as we showered him with many thanks (in English and Korean), and he made his way off to continue his day.

In the Station Office, we tried again to explain our situation to the station attendant, who spoke no English, and he called someone, presumably another station worker who did speak English, and Mark told her over the phone what had happened, providing the subway line, the direction, and a description of his backpack. The station attendant then told Jay and I to wait in the office while he and Mark went back down to the train area so that Mark could point out the spot where the car we'd been in had stopped. So we waited, rereading our schedules for the coming week, and amusing ourselves by watching the security cameras keeping tabs on various locations within the station. We saw Mark and the station attendant go down an escalator in Camera Four, and then bypass a turnstile in Camera Three. We counted the Koreans who escaped payments by ducking under the turnstiles in Cameras Three and Six, and then watched Mark and the station attendant return through Camera Five. It was very exciting, let me tell you. Mark came in and sat with us while the station attendant talked some more on the phone, and to our great surprise, Very Helpful Man showed up on Camera Three, entering the turnstile, and then going up the escalator in Camera Five. A moment later he'd re-entered the Station Office and talked with the attendant before leaving again. Apparently he'd come back to check on how things were going before (as we saw in the Cameras) going back down the escalator, through the turnstile, and boarding a train.

In the end, they found Mark's backpack about an hour later, at the end station of line 3, Suseo. We therefore boarded the train for the 40-minute ride to Suseo, obtained the backpack, and returned to Anguk after a short meal in Suseo. The point of this story? How kind and helpful the Koreans can be to foreigners.

...

...

...and don't leave your backpack on the frickin' train.

By the time we got back to Anguk, it was nearly 5 in the evening. We made our way to the first palace, only to discover that it was closed on Mondays (but the outside looked quite nice) and then proceeded to make our way around the perimeter of the park, as the whole thing was enclosed in a huge wall and the entrance was far away. When we finally reached the entrance, it was about to close and we were no longer allowed to enter. So basically, we spent the entire day in Seoul learning the intricacies of the Subway system. We'll have to return later for a trip to the park, and when we do, we'll keep our backpacks in our laps.

New apartment, schedule assignmentsIlsan, South Korea

We moved into our new apartment on Friday, after Sean left for Australia. The apartment is actually only temporary, as we will most likely be moving to a larger place in October. For now though, this is our new home. It has a large bedroom/office with a couch, dresser, desk, and bookshelf in addition to the bed; a kitchen equipped with a microwave, gas range stove, lots of cabinets, and a fridge/freezer. Additionally, the main room that has the kitchen also has a portable clothing rack and a side-closet containing our washing machine and the bike that Jay bought from Sean. Finally, the area by the front door has a large cabinet for shoes (appropriate, as it is customary in Korea to always remove your shoes before entering a home).

So, we're pretty much moved in and ready to prepare for our first week of teaching. We start on Wednesday, evenly splitting all the classes from Elaine and Sean. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we both have 7 classes plus a summer intensive course and on Tuesday and Thursday Jay has 6 classes (plus the summer intensive) and I have 5 (plus the intensive). Basically, we're teaching elementary, middle school, and a couple of high school students, and next month we will be adding one or two Kindergarden classes apiece. We're already technically working overtime without the Kindergarden courses, so on the one hand, we will definitely be busy, but on the other hand, we'll have a great amount of teaching experience under our belts by the end of the year, and Jay will be able to make a large dent in his student loans.

In addition to our classes, we're excited to explore Ilsan and learn Korean. Already, Jay can read most of the Hangul alphabet and I'm looking into finding a Korean language exchange partner in the area. Depending on the business of our schedule, we'll have to see how much language progress we can make.

Lake Park and the passing of the torchIlsan, South Korea

This weekend is a five-day weekend, so Thursday was our last day to observe classes. By the end of it, we'd seen about half of the courses we'll be taking over. Elaine and Sean said their goodbyes to their co-teachers and students that evening, both very sad to leave them. Despite the difficulty of living and working in a foreign country, and any disagreements or difficulties, it was clear that they both were very attached to their students (and the students to them). Given this, we know that we have big shoes to fill, but on the other hand, we're assured that the coming year will be a worthwhile experience.

After school on Thursday, Sean showed us around his (now our) apartment to introduce us to its tricks and quirks. Afterwards, we went to La Festa, a huge shopping/entertainment district, for a couple beers and some last bits of wisdom before we embark upon our own teaching career. It's hard to explain exactly the change that has occurred in this past week - from our first day landing in Incheon to our first day in our new apartment... we've seen classes, gotten to know some of the students and teachers a bit better, gotten a glimpse into what we will be doing for a year, and obtained an immeasurable increase in confidence and ideas from Elaine and Sean.

Last night Mark came to visit us and the next day we all explored Lake Park (with a huge man-made lake) and Ilsan in general. While walking around, Jay and Mark worked on learning to read Hangul, using any and all signs we saw on our way as practice. I only needed to help occasionally, as both of them have learned to memorize most of the alphabet really quickly. We also got to use the subway for the first time to visit Mark and see where he lives as well. He's in about the same situation as us, with similarly-aged students, though a few subway stations apart.

I'll explain more about our apartment (with photos!) once we've settled in a bit more. 

First day in KoreaIlsan, South Korea

Well, we're here. We arrived last night. After a 12-hour flight (on a side note, I whole-heartedly recommend Singapore Airlines to anyone traveling across the Pacific). After collecting our baggage and clearing customs faster than in any other country, we emerged from the terminal to see tons of Koreans waiting, many with signs containing various names. Our driver, Mr. Li, had no problem spotting us (the only confused foreigners in the lot), and quickly herded us outside, where he and the majority of the Korean men exiting the airport immediately lit a cigarette. Welcome to Asia.

It took us about half an hour to reach our school, where we met our vice-president/director/head teacher/boss, Joe, and some of the foreign and Korean teachers. Joe showed us around the school, which has one floor in a giant building for the older (elementary - high school) students and a separate, new building exclusively for kindergardeners and some 1st graders. After the tour, Joe took us to our temporary hotel room - right across the street from our school - and then took us out to dinner and helped us find breads to buy for breakfast. We returned back to the hotel around 10 PM (which is 6 AM in California). We set our alarms fro 9:30 the next day, since we needed to be at the school by noon, and crashed.

We were both wide awake by 8 this morning, not quite able to internalize the fact that we're here. In Korea. To teach. For a year. Huh.

Having purchased breakfast-y breads the night before, we ate breakfast in our hotel room and learned to operate the shower (there is no curtain or door, but rather the entire restroom is made of plastic, the toilet paper is covered, and the floor itself has a drain to get rid of all the water). After getting dressed and acclimating for a while to Korean music videos, we headed over to the school for our first day of class-observing.

From around noon until about 6:00, we observed 4 classes with 3 different teachers (Joe and the two foreign teachers we are to replace - Elaine and Sean). We also met the rest of the Korean and foreign teachers, got mobbed by very enthusiastic (and not at all shy) kindergardeners, and checked out some of the available course materials.

During a break, we went to the same tiny Korean restaurant that we'd eaten at the night before, and managed to procure a delicious, spicy seafood and noodle soup with my poor Korean reading abilities and some creative signing. The waiter, who was amazingly indulgent of our inability to communicate properly, also brought us some kim chi and water. Korean word of the day: 짭뽕라면. Meaning: Delicious cheap noodle-fish-chili-soup that I can't pronounce properly.

After observing classes, we went and got our photos taken for the alien registration card that the school's owner will apply for on our behalf. Tomorrow, another day of observation - in the kindergarden as well as with some Korean teachers. For now, off to take photos and find food.

Preparing for South KoreaBerkeley, California

Our visas are ready, our tickets are purchased, our bags are (somewhat) packed... Jay and I are leaving in less than a week to spend a year in South Korea - in Ilsan, a suburb to the Northeast of Seoul, in the Gyeonggi province. We don't speak Korean to any usable degree, we have never been to Asia before, and we haven't met the people responsible for sending us there.

We will be teaching English for a year at a private school, which will pay for our airfare and provide us with housing. It would be an absurd lie to say I wasn't nervous, but, at the same time, I am tingling with excitement. Once again, I have the opportunity to travel, to learn a new language, and to experience a new culture... Why wouldn't excitement be the most noticeable emotion?

Right now, Jay and I are both trying to see our friends and families for a bit longer before he comes down to the Bay Area and then... we're off! Updates will be forthcoming, once we're across the Pacific.

Final semester - ready go!Portland, Oregon

I'm excited for this semester - I have a pathetically tiny course load (13 credits), and my classes seem surprisingly doable. My Spanish literature course is focused on Don Quijote this semester (probably a good work to read for, say, a Hispanics Studies major), and my German class is focused on love and death in German literature. Both seem to be interesting topics, with good professors, so yay for foreign languages that I will inevitably mix together when speaking (oops).

Other than that, I still haven't taken a lab science (an unfortunate requirement at this silly liberal arts place - wanting students to have a well-rounded education... disgusting!) So I'm taking environmental chemistry. Not too excited about returning to mathy stuff, and the professor is...not entirely inspiring, but it will be doable. Plus, my last class is yoga. Now, bear in mind that I will destroy any and all good things that the yoga class does to my body by running off to lift weights shortly afterwards, but hey, at least it'll be a fun class.

With such a light course load, I have the opportunity to work on other stuff this semester as well. Namely, art, excercise, sleep, and learning Korean. Maybe working on Finnish and Japanese as well, but those two are rather less likely. And playing ridiculous amounts of board games with Jay, since we have far too many in our apartment. Ah well. On the note of our apartment, though, (and in the words of my linguisticly-creative madre): hallefrickenloolah. What a difference it makes to actually tolerate one's roommate (let alone absolutely adore). This bodes well for the coming semester.

Oh, I forgot to mention: I have no classes on Tuesdays or Thursdays. Muahahaha! This means sleeping sufficiently, and then fun stuff (ie Korean) before having to hit them books.... Though when I do study, it's interesting material! What a change from last semester! Okay, I'm inspired to work a bit more on my Korean so I'm off!