Chusoeka

Chusoek is the Korean harvest. It is a time when many Koreans return to their hometowns to pay respects to ancestors. There are many ways to celebrate. Drinking off course, is always encouraged, as it is 365 days a year in Korea. My students told me today that their families have rice-cakes, pork, listen to festive music and play games. It seems like a time to get together with relatives and be thankful for all that is and was. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chuseok

I asked an 11 year old boy in one of my classes if I could come to his house to partake in the festivities. He quickly shook his head. "You not welcome."

Classes this week went pretty well. I've gone from that strict, Miss Trunchbull-esque teacher to a Ryan Gosling Half-nelson type guy in the classroom. Think the kids are taking it pretty well. I don't have the heart to be hard on them all the time. They are in school from 9 am-8 pm and are probably doing homework all night long. Education is all they really know and what their parents demand. Most do all this work now to get into a university in America, where they will do a quarter of the work, still get a 3.5 gpa and all the while, excel in the art of professional lounging. Wish I could explain this to them, but lounging is probably not a part of a Korean student's vocab. Although, I do see Koreans lounging in the oddest places. I went to buy milk the other day at the corner store and walked up to cashier lady, only to see an old woman lying down on the floor under the counter. She looked quite comfortable and matter-of-fact. I also see many older Koreans sitting cross-legged on the ground next to their food stands on sidewalks throughout Chuncheon. Whenever I see this, it makes me feel funny. An American would never sit on the ground outside for long periods of time. Here it is not only agreeable, but preferred and probably traditional. It's a little peculiar but nice to see.

We have this Friday off for Chuseok, which will be good. Not sure what I'll do yet. I would like to go to Seoul again but feel like everyone will be traveling. Wouldn't mind seeing L-dubbs, especially since it is Fordham's homecoming this weekend. It'd be nice to spend it with a fellow Ram. I'd probably also have an interesting story to tell on here. We'll see what happens.

Below is a little nod to Fordham's homecoming this weekend. You thought the Bronx was the home of Grandmaster Flash, Umberto's Clam Shop, Edgar Allan Poe, Yankee Stadium and the Bronx Zoo? Here's to DJ Double Click, Stop 1, Daniel Morse, Jack Coffey Field and Howl at the Moon. Enjoy the weekend up at Rose Hill. Full cup Flip cup baby. Make sure this song gets some air-time.

Secret Admirer

So for the past couple days, I thought I had a secret admirer in my midst. Somebody who wanted a taste of that English teaching, Cool Ranch Dorito eating, 12 minute mile running human specimen. I was excited. Excited about the secret admirer but not about the gifts she was leaving on my desk at school.

The first day it was a bottle of carrot juice and a small bag of brown rice carefully placed around a tiny bag of ice to keep the juice cold. It was a little odd. Usually secret admirers leave candies or a note or something romantic. Carrot juice didn't really get my heart pumping. But maybe in Korea it was the equivalent. Also, maybe this was nothing. Possibly a practical joke.

The next day I walked into the my classroom and found two juices in a bag. Carrot and

pomegranate. This time, I knew something was up and talked to 3 other teachers about it. They were excited by the mystery and offered their help in finding the mystery girl. Students were ruled out because they all left before I left at night and weren't allowed in the building untiltheir class actually started in the morning. Cleaning lady? Could be.

Cleaning man? Hope not.

There were also the Korean secretaries who worked in the office. But I had never really noticed any look of loves or batting of the eyelashes. So I went outside my classroom in front of the secretary desks and began drinking the carrot juice (which I hate). I gulped it down, hoping to get some laughs or looks. Nobody blinked. Not one woman flinched. All that carrot disgustingness for nothing. I felt sick and embarrassed but knew that my eyesight had just gotten about 10 times better.

After my first class, I went into the break room to chat with fellow teachers. My breath smelled of liquid carrot. I told one teacher about my secret admirer story. To my disappointment, he shut down the chance that I had one.

Turns out the carrot juice was something that was supposed to be in his room. He, along with another teacher, got juice delivered every morning to their rooms. Don't know why carrot juice is the go-to. Guess carrot juice breath would keep the kids far away from your desk.

So no admirer. It was tough news to take. Tougher than a fat birthday boy with no cake. Oh well. I'm better off. Probably would've blown it anyway. What would I leave her if she left me carrot juice? What is the equivalent vegetable juice that you never want to drink? Celery juice?

'Let's just stay up until the first bus back to Chuncheon"

After a night of bowling and bar-hopping (bar-stumbling), we were set off for Gwangju on Saturday morning. I actually ended up bowling pretty poorly. My skills could be placed somewhere between Donny from the Big Lebowski and Stephen Hawking.

We left at about 11:10 and arrived at Gwangju station at about 3pm. The seats were tiny on the bus and for some reason I was seated next to a fellow teacher who is about 6'6. So the two tallest people in Korea were seated next to each other on a tiny bus. It actually ended up not being too bad and I was able to sleep for a couple hours.

Once we arrived in Gwangju we took a cab to the mutual friends' apartment. There was a bald, Irish guy with a thick Irish accent and a Korean guy who seemed to be a lot younger than his actual age. I of course asked the Irish guy if he had heard of Monaghan County. He said he lived about 2 counties over from there. Said it was a beautiful place. Very green and very friendly. Kind of like the Monagan families' next home in America: Waterbury, CT, also known as Da Dirty Water.

Waterbury or Monaghan County?

Both guys very good hosts and seemed happy to have us for company. An example of their excitement could be seen as soon as we walked into the door. A poster read: Welcome you fucking Chuncheon guys!" Very nice. The only problem was that they taped the poster over the bathroom door, so when somebody opened the door to use the room, the poster ripped right through. Good idea. Bad execution.

After introductions and a short tour of the house, we realized that we would have trouble sleeping in this small apartment. So, we decided that we would take the first bus out of Gwangju the next morning. 8:10 am. We would stay up all night and all morning until that time. Once someone put this idea forward, there was no backing out. Nobody wanted to be that guy. It was stupid. It was bold. No, it was just stupid. But it was a challenge. It had to be met and realized.

First place we went to was a chicken restaurant on top of a high mountain. Once we arrived we looked down on the city of Gwangju and really enjoyed the nice view. Gwangju was a large city with many tall buildings and green mountains. About 2 million people. Really beautiful place, like everywhere I've been so far in Korea.

So, we asked for chicken. Minutes later, we see a man walking into the kitchen carrying 2 dead chickens. Fresher than Chinchilla at M&G. The actual meal was great. Really spicy chicken with a dark, flavorful sauce. But the appetizer was a little strange. They served us raw chicken in tiny slices. When they served it, we all looked at each other in disbelief. The Irish guy almost choked on his beer. But the Korean man simply picked up his chopsticks and began eating the chicken. The truth is, you can actually eat raw chicken as long as it is fresh. The packaging is what causes bacteria to get in and actually feed on the chicken. So, we all had a slice, but were really not into the idea at all. It's like walking across the street without looking both ways. Something we were always told not to do.

Raw Chicken in middle:

After dinner, we all headed to a Soju house in a university area of Gwangju. Lots of kids and lots of fun. We spent about 2 hours there, headed to Karaoke for about an hour and half and realized we still had another 8 hours before our bus departed for Chuncheon. It was only about 12:15. So we headed to a talking bar in downtown Gwangju. This is a place where lonely Korean men go to talk to Korean women, who get paid per conversation. Perfect place for 5 Americans and one Irishman. We ended up staying there for about 2 hours and talking to ourselves. I did speak to one Korean woman, but once I told her I went to school in NYC, all she wanted to talk about was Sex in the City. Not my favorite show. Kind of wish it had been.

After this experience we headed over to a nightclub in another university area in the city. Even during 4 years in New York, I had never been to a nightclub. I had a pretty good time. We all "danced" and got rejected by many Korean girls. They are very shy dancers. But I still enjoyed the scene and hearing some western music. Fat Man Scoop, some 'ye and Weezy baby y'all.

competent, important voices of my generation.

Fat Man Scoop:

When we walked out of the club, the sun was making its way up from the horizon. It was 6:30 am. We raced to a taxi, picked up our bags at the Irish-ish-Korean-like apartment and reached the bus station at 7 am. We were exhausted. But we had done it. We had accomplished what we had set out to do. Yes....we were morons, and felt like morons for most of Sunday. While we weren't sleeping of course. But it was worth it. We had done a lot, seen a lot of people and places and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

I liked being out of Chuncheon for a day. The food was great, the city was endless with activities and people, and the company was awesome. Hope to make many future trips around Korea but also make an attempt to rest my head at least for a short while.

Gwangju my dude

Heading down to Gwangju this weekend with 3 other teachers. Gwangju is about 4 hours south of Chuncheon by bus. It is the 6th largest city in Korea and close to Busan. I've been looking at pictures and it seems like a pretty cool area. Lots of history and lots of fun. Many museums and many nightclubs. No Nightclub Museums though. That would be too much to ask. The Gwangju NightClub Museum: The History of Drinking, Dancing and Dodging Stray Bullets.

We're staying with a couple other guys. NO GIRLS ALLOWED. One is Korean and speaks fluent English and another guy is Irish and drinks fluently. Should be an interesting time. I'm excited to see another part of Korea. I will update when I get back on Sunday or Monday.

The city also was the home to the Gwangju massacre: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gwangju_Democratization_Movement

Happened in 1980. It was a call for Democracy in the face of a militarized, totalitarian government. Many students were killed.

Hopefully no massacres this time. Although, if we do end up in the night club, the dance floor may become a stage where we absolutely massacre the meaning of at least 10 songs.

"The Wackness"

Also, wanted to mention that I finally saw "The Wackness" the other day. Made me want to be back in New York eventually. The movie also included one of Ben Kingsley's greatest performances. Up there with Ghandi.

The movie was pretty decent and had an even better soundtrack. Most of the songs are rap from the early 90s except for this song called "All the Young Dudes." I think it was originally done by David Bowie but here it is sung by Mott the Hoople, whoever that is. Sounds like some character from a Dr. Seuss book. But the rendition is pretty good and the chorus is catchy.

Hearing "Can I Kick It?" by Tribe Called Quest while the lead character was walking through New York in the summertime was also pretty cool. I threw the song on my shuffle and listen to it as I'm walking to my class everyday. Although I'm not dealing drugs like Luke Shapiro, I can still kick it. Can't I?

Hectic Metric

Went to the gym for the first time on Tuesday with a fellow teacher. I actually was supposed to go on Monday but couldn't get up in time for the 10:30 am wake up call. Slept until noon. It was great.

So I met the other teacher on Tuesday morning and walked over to the gym (which actually turned into a pretty far walk itself. I almost just told him I could do this walk back and forth between my apartment and gym and call it a workout.) But once I got to the door, I knew I couldn't say this.

The gym was nice and pretty empty. Most people were on the treadmills. Nobody was squatting 250 pound weights and yelling into the mirror. My kind of gym. People weren't really worried about muscles but instead, needed to run off their escapades from the previous weekend.

I got on a machine and began running at a speed of 5. For about 11 minutes I thought I was running at 5 miles/hour but was actually running at 5 km/hr. Much slower pace. I pushed the button until I was up to 9. (Still pretty slow, although I had no idea). I looked at how far I'd run and it said 1600 meters. I had no idea how to convert meters to miles but felt confident that 1600 was a pretty high number in any measurement system. Should be good.

By the end I had run about 28 minutes and about 4000 meters. Very high time for me. I'm usually breathless at the end of 19 minutes. But I had been running outside the week before and felt that maybe I had bounced my body into shape with those two 20 minute runs out in the Chuncheon sunshine. Yeah.

So once I got home, I googled how far in miles 4,000 meters was. Turns out I ran less than 2.5 miles...in about 30 minutes. That's a 12 minute mile. Feeling like Donkey lips from Salute Your Shorts. Slow and miserable.

So, I will know for next time. Actually, for tomorrow. If I'm able to get up for the 10:15 alarm. Also, I saw these huge spiders hanging from the windows right outside the gym. Could see them while I was running on the treadmill. I like to think they were what distracted me from figuring out the metric conversions in my head, but probably not. Probably about the size of my fist.

Might need to buy a gun just in case one of these monsters gets in to my apartment.

Barbershop 3: There are no more barbershops

My hair hadn't been this long since I was about 12 years old. I looked like Paul McCartney in the 1960s, or anybody from the 1960s for that matter. So I decided to get a haircut. Tough thing to do in any new place, but especially in a new country where nobody speaks your language.

So I walked over to a salon that was on the way to my school. I walked in and two women quickly ran to my side. I pointed to my head and made a cutting motion with my 2 fingers. So far, so good. But I didn't really know how to get across how I wanted my hair cut. I didn't have any pictures I could show them in my wallet. That's another thing I need. More pictures of myself or friends in my wallet. All I have is a McDonalds Big Mac Combo card, a Fordham University printing card and a couple terrible fake ids. All pretty much useless, besides the Combo.

Anyway, I asked the two eager women if they had pictures. They didn't really comprehend. Then I saw a picture book with hairstyles for men. I grabbed it and started leafing through the pages. There was absolutely nothing that I liked. In most pictures it seemed like the there was hair added to the man's head instead of taken off. Above is an example of what I saw. Might be able to pull it off without the orange tinge, but didn't know if I wanted to take that extra 20 minutes in the shower to clean it.

So I just told them "short," and made cutting motions again with my fingers. Then they said "ok, short, yes" One woman then proceeded to cut my hair. The other woman kind of circled around sweeping up falling hair as it landed on my face. It was a pretty good system. They were done in about 10 minutes. I could probably count the number of hairs she cut off my head. About 120-140. Nothing. I look almost exactly the same. Instead of getting into another awkward, strained convo with them, I paid the 8 dollars and left. Eight dollars and no tip. No tip because there is no tipping in Korea. Every American's dream.

Don't think I'll go back to this place. Probably just let my hair grow out like Manny and braid it up. Are there no barbershops in Korea? Where's Ice Cube and Cedric the Entertainer when you need them?

Chuncheon: So Chunchill

Been in Chuncheon for a little over 3 weeks now. I haven't really posted in a while just because I've been getting acclimated to my new area, people and food. Actually, I've been browsing mlb.com for the latest met mishap or tweeting to therealshaq about his new show. Speaking of the internet, it is really fast here. Fastest in the world I believe. Look it up.

Chuncheon is a pretty cool city. Food is amazing but also pretty bad for you. Lots of spicy barbecue chicken and beef. The area I'm in has bars and restaurants all over the place. Literally bars, restaurants, "massage" parlors and apartments. All surrounded by tall mountains. Pretty happening place. I like it so far.

Teaching has also been pretty fun. Although some days are long 3:30-10:30 pm (no break), it seems to be coming along pretty well. I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job. Who knew I could teach? The last thing I taught before this year was probably how to pass back a fake id while entering a bar in nyc. The kids seem to be a good mix of both scared and happy with me. I teach Mondays and Wednesdays from 330-1030, Tuesdays and Thursdays 430-730 and Fridays 330-730. 24 hours a week. Not bad. The kids age anywhere between 8-13. Some of the older kids are a challenge but most want to learn. Prepping for classes takes a good amount of time at night, but I do have most of the night. I generally don't go to sleep until 2 or 3 and wake up at like noon. It's a sleeping pattern I'm all to used to.

Tonight, I'm prepping for tomorrow, but will probably go out to celebrate this korean guy's birthday at a restaurant around 11. Shouldn't get too wild, but with Soju anything can happen. One night at 430 am two fridays ago I ended up eating uncooked chicken off a grill with a Korean couple. Saw them again a couple nights ago and hid my head in shame. They just laughed and told me to come over. People here are very friendly and hospitable at all times of the night to all kinds of people.