11 November 2007

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.

04 November 2007

An alternate reality
Geumgangsan, 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.

27 October 2007

The Demilitarized Zone
South 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.

07 October 2007

Ginseng festival and hiking
Punggi 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.

27 September 2007

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!