T-minus 2 weeks & I am Mike's awkward life

Any readers may thank my Mom for prodding me on this last post. I thought I was close enough to home to enter everyone's graces, but maybe Mom's right after all.

When we next meet in person, I will reaffirm to you how invaluable my experience overseas has been to my life. This was a year of testing for myself. This was the post-college, you have a degree now 'do you have what it takes to survive in the real world?' year. And well...I have survived, and now carry a new confidence that I can be whatever I set my mind on becoming.

Given my firm satisfaction with my last year, I was hoping that these last few weeks would be full of festive-like activities - dining and merry making with dozens of old students, co-workers, friends from the bible-study we lead, and friends from Jubilee Church. These people have come to mean a lot to me. There is so much shared admiration and delight in one another that it would be a pity not to enjoy each other as much as possible before this season reaches its end.

But here is the sad thing. That throat infection I mentioned two posts ago has returned with hell fury. It never fully went away, as my throat was often sore over the last 3 months, but this time I gained a nasty phlegmy cough, a deviated voice, and its resultant weakening. I have only been able to employ my voice for work hours over the last two weeks. Evenings and weekends? I don't speak. I have said two words today. I also took a sick day, but even with all of these measures my voice remains irredeemable. The throat specialists have been giving me lots of pills (over a dozen a day...Korean style) which has included steroids for the last week, but still no recovery. Baffling.

So my life has been awkward, even pathetic, for these last two weeks. Many friends have begun phoning me for 'one last horrah' but I can't even pickup the phone. I text them back: sorry, can't speak, or meet for that matter. When I do go out for lunch with co-workers or go to Church its unbelievably trying. Everyone feels bad for you. They want you to participate and have fun with them, so they do their best, and God bless them for that. But in the end, it's exhausting and uncomfortable being trapped in silence like this. It's impossible to shake the feeling that I'm being cold and rude by not acknowledging them with my conversation. My life turns into sherades that wishes it was a game but is really my only way to communicate. It is an impressive handicap for someone like myself who is so dependant on his voice as a mode of personality - a mode of existance. And even if I could put up with being that awkward silent guy at the end of the table that is somewhat burdensome to the group, I can't participate in the customary social beverages: coffee, tea, or alcohol - all harmful to my throat. Last Sunday I bumped into a student on the street. I hadn't seen her in months which is a bit awkward in itself, and all I could do was make hand jesters that I couldn't speak. Then realizing nothing else could be done, we parted. It felt so dissappointing.

Unfortunately, this has turned into a rant and I hope you can understand because I don't have much opportunity to express it these days. Please feel free to join the amassing prayer team for my health. It would be a pity to have this persist for my final 2 weeks. Everyone wants to finish strong. I want everyone to know how lucky I am to have met them.

Maybe we could take a moment for '10 Things Mike can't wait to experience back at home!'
1) Drinkable tap water. I'm tired of boiling water in a pot and carrying bottles from the store.
2) Lounging at home. Not just my parents' place, but all Canadian homes are so comfy compared to the bachelor pad I've got here.
3) Quality speakers to listen to music on. Ipods and laptop speakers are insufficient.
4) Driving. Oh man, I miss the feeling of being behind the wheel.
5) Canadian space. It's so cramped in Seoul (population density is a whopping 17,219/km²)
6) Canadian air. Which could probably cure my throat in seven deep breaths.
7) Canadian beer. Rickards White, Sleeman's Honeybrown, and Fort Gary Dark.
8) A reasonable temperature in public buildings and transporation. Not Korea's 28 C.
9) Being able to talk to pretty much anyone I can see.
10) Spending time with you!!

My school screwed up my flight so I don't know the exact date of my arrival, but within the first few days of July is certain. Peace out!

Jeju Island & I'm Alive!

I think I have taken my biggest, best, and last vacation in Korea. I had a 5 day weekend and after much trouble trying to get a hold of some plane tickets, Derek, Tyler, and I were off to Korea's Hawaii. Well, it's not Hawaii, but it is an island created by volcanoes, it's hotter than the Korean mainland, and it's by far the most touristy place in Korea. There are so many attractions. Museums from tea to sex, waterfalls, white sand beaches, black sand beaches (more like brown actually), a giant mountain to climb, orange orchards, volcanic craters, back country roads, lava tunnels, lava rock everywhere, and a gorgeous coastline. 5 days is honestly not enough to cover it all. But I still saw a fair amount.

I arrived a day before Derek and Tyler so I got to hang out with some of my academy's students for a day. I got to see my first tea plantation. I've already studied the tea production process, but it was better to study it with my hands and eyes. I walked rows of tea bushes and even ate some raw leaves - not that I recommend it; it wasn't tasty. I saw a teddy bear museum. It was weird seeing teddy Ghandi. It was fun being hugged by a 10 foot teddy. I also road a horse and went in a kinda-hot-air-balloon which was really attached to the ground with a steal cable.

When Derek and Tyler came we got into adventure mode, catalyzed with the idea of exploring an island on scooters! Scooters. Wind in your hair. Sun on your face. Pals reving their engines beside you. Cruising beside turquoise waters and black lava rock. Passing thousands of palm trees. A good risk of getting lost but not caring. It was everything I thought it'd be. It also really allows you to hit many of the attractions in good time.

The first day on scooters was incredible! The second was cursed. The rain sent us back to cower in our resort for most of the day, but we were emboldened by mid-afternoon to try again. I was so excited to be whipping around on scooters again that I took the lead at a quick pace. But some stupid cars were going to slow for my excitement so I had to pass them on the narrow country road. I was doing at least 60 km/hr and was too focused on oncoming traffic to notice the sharp turn coming up. Uh-oh! No time for brakes. Crank the bars right and...well you see, those damned scooters have no ability to turn and the thing slid out from under me. I remember very little except thinking "ashphalt and skin is a bad combination." While still in shock I stood up, walked to the side of the road and sat down. Tyler had a good vantage point from behind. He said I turned halfway, looked right at him, and then continued to roll rag-dolled for 15 feet down the street.

I was not wearing a full leather getup. I had shorts, t-shirt, and sandals. Yes, I am pretty scrapped up and banged up. There is not one knee, foot, elbow, or hand that isn't scraped or sprained. Yet, miraculously, there were no major injuries. The car in front of me stopped quickly and called for an ambulance and the police. They brought out a stretcher and really wanted me to go to the hospital but I denied them like an idiot and scootered back to my resort. I should have got stitches in my knee and had them clean my destroyed toe. Anyways, I found a doctor that night and he kindly tended to me.

Of course I couldn't let injuries entirely ruin my trip. And I needed to get the scooter back to the rental shop. Although there was a lot of body damage, there was no noticable mechanical damage. Off we headed to the world's largest lava tubes formed 100,000 to 300,000 years ago (7km long). It's too bad I didn't get to climb Korea's tallest mountain at the center of Jeju. That plan had to be jettisoned. We also managed to visit a few beaches before getting back to the rental shop, where my billing awaited me. Insurance only covers being hit by another vehicle, so I had to fit the bill entirely on my own. Let's just say it cost more than my whole trip. :)

These injuries are really annoying right now and I have to go to work tomorrow. I'm worried I'll get body fluids all over my dress clothes.

Stay tuned to Facebook for pictures that I will post by the weekend.

Scorpion Wins! And the Incredible Yellow Dust!

It seems that I was wrong. I am not impervious to all Korean illnesses. Well, to be fair, under nominal conditions, I am impermeable. But if it weren't for that accursed Yellow Dust that wafts up from the Mongolian and Chinese deserts.

If you're uneducated, let me school you for a moment. The Yellow Dust (aka Yellow Sand) is stirred up by desert storms usually around Spring and seasonal winds carry it South and East. So what? you say. A little sand in your shoes. No, Sir or Ma'am, it is not so trivial. Over the last couple decades, industrial China has become a smokestack chain smoker, puffing out as many plumes of industrial pollutants as it can fund. Yeeeuck! (see the bottom for Wikipedia's reports on the variety of wholesome pollutants). So the Yellow Dust becomes the freighter for unimaginable evil. Oh, and the desert storms are increasing due to deforestation and desertification. Where are you Captain Planet?? We need you now more than ever!

As a naive foreigner, you might at first mistake the situation for a pleasantly golden fog, and maybe skip to your bus pondering the curious climate of the East. But you would be gravely mistaken. That yellowy fog has killed the young, elderly, and those with immune or respiratory weaknesses. Many Koreans will advise you to wear a mask on days forecast to be hazardous. Thus my Scorpion-fashioned mask in the picture (video game reference). That, or simply to stay in your house. On a less important note, Korea is a world leading semi-conductor manufacturer, and the yellow dust sneaks its way into factories and has led to the corrosion and defectiveness of many valuable electronic products. The estimated financial damage is in the billions.

Anyways, I was too late. Of course, there may be another solution, but I'm sticking to my gut on this. I started with a sore throat 17 days ago - shortly after Yellow Dust season commenced. Being uninformed, I continued with my lung bursting jogs up the local mountain. And voila! Throat infection. It isn't viral, and I stopped playing with those monkeys, so it's the only plausible explanation. I have been on antibiotics for the last 5 days, and I hope my symptoms will disappear within the next couple days. By the way, it sucks to live in fear of losing your voice when your job depends on it (and you have no sick days).

Until Yellow Dust season passes (about 3 weeks), I think I'll stick to jogging in my gym. Oh, and sometimes it gets so bad that it blankets everything in a fine yellow layer. Like snow, but deadlier. Canada, you only feel a pin prick of our modern age's ecological damage.

On a side note, while I was in the doctor's office, I bumped into a Korean co-worker with a rather raspy voice. She works and yells 6 days a week, and used to do it for 12 hours a day. Is her voice a coincidence? She looks in her thirties. Then there's a co-worker about my age who works two English teaching jobs back to back. She also sounds like she'll lose her voice by 40. Is it worth it? Is the money worth the cost of your voice? Seriously, I was upset at her and admonished her. I know so many Koreans that are workaholics.

Over.
[btw, did u notice spiderman in the background of my picture?]


According to Wikipedia, Yellow Dust contains: "Sulphur (an acid rain component), soot, ash, carbon monoxide, and other toxic pollutants including heavy metals (such as mercury, cadmium, chromium, arsenic, lead, zinc, copper) and other carcinogens, often accompany the dust storms, as well as viruses, bacteria, fungi, pesticides, antibiotics, asbestos, herbicides, plastic ingredients, combustion products as well as hormone mimicking phthalates."

Getting back on the blog wagon

My dear readers,

I apologize for my awful blogging habits. This is one thing I have a terrible time committing too. I am working inside myself to repair this behaviour. Enough said.

What should I inform you of? There is too much. Nothing exciting, but those who know me will admit that I have numerous ideas that spark and fly from my mind. I love to speculate about everything, even if I have no chance of understanding the nature of the thing. So I will just write about the first two things that I think of.

Work. It has never been as comfortable as it is now. I knew this would occur. Time refines our skills and pacifies our anxiety. When I think of time's steady harvest, I cannot help but be excited. Who I will be in 20 years thrills me. Who you will be in 20 years thrills me. What the world will become in 20 years thrills me. Call me an optimist.

Experience is our research, our data. The more we have, the better conclusions we can arrive at, the better inventions that will result. Of course not everyone triumphs here. Victory is for the integral, the patient, the wise, the passionate, the loving. Luckily my parents, my friends, my community, and God have been teaching me these since I entered this world. I am beyond grateful.

Where I meant to go with this is that I'm sad I might have to leave this comfort. My future seems headed for a Master's degree in Counseling - likely at my old school. I don't know why I have not thought about this direction for many years. When I was a child, I considered counseling as a profession, but thought I was not emotionally suited. Now I am a different man and I have learned to build some reasonable boundaries. This profession has also been embedded in my character since I have known myself. Nothing is closer to my heart. So I think I will begin this new journey soon.

Winter. I'm going to take a mental record of my Winter moods henceforth. Maybe it is my physiological response to the Sun's dimness, but my energy this Winter fell hard. I have not been active, which is one reason I have not been able to give you all some "Epic Adventures" :( The other reason is that I was emotionally hamstrung. Part of it must be the season, part of it homesickness (esp. during Christmas), another part I will keep to myself. Maybe part of it is how cold we keep our house. 17 degrees usually.

Anyways, I can fell myself thawing out. I have been more active in the last few weeks and can't wait to start going out more and taking more pictures for all you Facebook friends. Last weekend Tyler and I went to the highest building in Seoul with a couple students. There was a 'sky' motif art center at the top. It was so fun!

Well, I hope to share more stories and thoughts with you, and I hope to write them more than quarterly... :D

The Weather Effect

I once had a friend tell me that November was the most depressing month of the year. The weather is going downhill and Christmas is still too far away to bring any cheer. I think that the same principal applies halfway around the world. Not that I'm super depressed, but everything does appear to be a bit more...dreary. I'm concerned that the Christmas spirit will not be nearly as potent here. It's true that there is a large Christian representation here, but the Christmas tradition is newer here and could not have been translated perfectly.

Fall is gentle here and the temperature usually fluctuates between 5 and 20 degrees Celsius. This is just dandy, but for the greyness. The sun has not been brightening any faces lately, or waking up the overworked city folk with warm rays through their window. Nope, the sun is exhausted from its hard summer work and is keeping a dull distance. I sense the effect everywhere. There are less people bustling down the street, less people on the bus in the early morning, less people on time for class.

Probably the worst thing yet is that my prediction about Korean weather reactions was accurate. Just as I escaped the wet sauna of Korean summers, virtually all public places (buses, subways, coffee shops, offices) CRANKED their heat. How I loathe standing on the buses as my shirt slowly begins to dampen. So it seems that my fate is to be forever hot in this country.

The Quilted Mountains

My interest in the Orient began, as with most young boys, in martial arts movies. The Orient is often depicted in movies as a solemn place, full of delicate beauty and inner peace. Other elements of the Far East were added to my knowledge as I took an interest in Anime, but that is for another chapter. I would say that the largest impression left on my mind was indebted to one of my all-time favourite movies "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." In that movie I understood the Orient to really understand the need for peaceful contemplation, especially over a clear cup of green tea. Many beautiful and thoughtful moments within the film were held with purposeful patience in order to properly absorb each element. And the scenery filled my heart with a longing to run, walk and sit in that foreign wilderness. After experiencing this movie, I could never leave my desire for the Orient behind. Instead, I had to put this very desire to the fore and steer right towards it.


But here is the porcupine's quill in my tiger's paw: Seoul has none of this. I already wrote of the pollution. Then there are the flooded streets of an overpopulated megatropolis. Worse yet, instead of practicing peaceful contemplation, they mutually demand "Pali! Pali!" The Spanish "Rapido!" The English "Quicker! Faster! Hurry up!" But maybe worse of all, I have not seen one Korean savour one cup of tea! All of this left a scowl on my face. I felt betrayed by my childhood promises about the Orient. Surely they weren't idealized fantasies! Surely somewhere in this world I could find rest from the break-neck pace and pressure of this Age. Surely I didn't cross this ocean to find that such a land never existed. Now I'm not in utter despair here. As all good travelers know, what you are looking for might be found in the very next village. Or possibly the one after that.

Hey, lift up that droopy chin now! This story doesn't have a sad ending. Don't mistake me! What I will share next is not what I have always been seeking. However, it did brush against it, if only for a moment's moment. My traveling companions and I were told repeatedly of the beauty of one Sorak Mountain. It resides on the North East coast of South Korea, near Sokcho city. Word of mouth told us that its fairness must be seen in Autumn, when the numberless trees wear their most colourful garments. And with the help of one generous student, we made arrangements to visit Sorak during this season.

I do not have much to tell of Sokcho. To be frank, being there gave you the feeling that its popularity had gone out of fashion long ago. But that mattered little to me because I wasn't there for the city. I came for the Mountain. On our third day of being on the East Coast, we took a taxi to the base of Sorak. It was so busy that we had to stop the taxi and walk the last 2km by ourselves. This small walk already worried me. Just 2 days ago I was at our academy's annual sports day where Tyler and I ran until our legs gave way. The 2km walk sent painful jolts through several muscles. It was sinking in that I would not reach Sorak's summit. But that could be addressed. There was a gondola that ran up half the mountain and would let you summit it's first of three peaks. Not having the time or strength to press further, we acquiesced.

Wait. Stop. The sight I saw as I turned my neck to squint through the fog! I looked at the Mountain and was stricken. It was not its size, for there are many mountains in Canada that tower above it. It was in part its strange cut and peculiar silhouette. The trees looked so unique as they stood black on its rim. But to truly know its beauty, you have to stand on its shoulders. There more than anything, you will experience its vibrant colours. Cranberry red, soft living gold, rust, and copper. My words cannot capture their essence, but neither should they. They must be held in one's eye. They must be seen snared within each leaf, lit by the sun, swaying with the wind. They must be visited high up in the mountain where the air is elating, the heightened view allows you to peer like a god, and the mist reminds you that there is magic close by. Only after this can you know and echo my satisfaction. We have pictures, but nothing can capture what I have described properly.

Our bus ride home to Seoul was in the afternoon and I got to see all the autumn clad mountains I missed previously while traveling in the dark. During that ride home I remember being grateful to see the fragile beauty I hoped to find in the Orient when I was younger. Their mountains are not sheer and threatening like the Rockies. Their trees are not austere and rugged like the Canadian evergreens. Their trees are deciduous, delicate, and rich; blanketing gentle giants with their autumn patchwork quilt. Their mountains roll meekly but dip, rise, and layer in a most handsome manner. I could not keep my eyes off of them. Instead they started to slowly fade like a dream to me, becoming more scarce and scarce the closer I got to home. The peace of the Eastern Mountains I have left behind. But I can never forget them.

Ascent

There is no hiding my disappointment with Seoul's pollution problem. I'm sure some major cities are worse and they are trying really hard here to clean it up - they separate their garbage into biodegradable, recyclable, and general garbage; and they have labourers up by at least 5am to sweep the streets; but the stench persists. Their sewer system is either outdated or exceeding capacity. While walking down the streets you may often catch a rancid whiff of rotting vegetables, the sting of something that smells like Korean body odour, or the staggering smell of vaporized feces. It is a far cry from the clean oxygen of Canada. Especially because the effect is multiplied by Seoul's heat and humidity. I miss that dry, cool September air in Manitoba. Nothing beats Canadian Autumn.

Right, where was I going with this? I was giving you a glimpse into my forlorn state as I reminisced of my homeland. It became particularly salient when I first decided to climb Mount Namsan. It towers above my house and is only a short jaunt away. As soon as I entered it's green canopy, I took in something I had forgotten the sweetness of: clean, fresh air. Despite being in the center of Seoul, the elevation and sheer number of trees on this mountain dared to hold the pollution at bay. I had never been so happy that I lived so close to this Emerald Giant. Humanity in its industrial zeal has cut many deep scars into Mother Nature. But thank God for sanctuaries like this mountain, where I can be freed from the polluted punishment of our wrongs.

Last night I laced up my runners and charged up the mountain. Normally I would regret pumping my lungs with Seoul's air, but I was at Namsan! Ascenting its sides with quick and deep breathes. I slowed to walk as I crossed a short wooden boardwalk by a miniature marsh, and then pressed onward to a lookout point over the city. From the top of the mountain the view is impressive. There are millions of lights all around you, stretching across a vast distance! The population of the city is over 10 million (over 24 million in the metropolitan, topping the world charts). Imagine the change for someone who has lived in Winnipeg all his life. And I work in the busiest sector of it all - Gangnam.

These experiences are welcomed for me, but I also need retreats. Thus I relish in Namsan, and I look forward to this long weekend where I will escape urban-mania and visit the South or East coast of Korea.

Ajuma!

It's about time I mentioned a certain character type that I unfortunately have to deal with often in South Korea. They go by the name of 'ajuma'. Now technically an ajuma is distinguished by the fact that she is a married woman (and 'agassis' are married men). But because most Koreans get married, and generally later in life, the name is almost synonymous with older woman.

The hilarious thing is that they are easy to spot since 95% of them sport short permed hair and visors. The unfunny fact is that many of them have horrendous public transportation manners. You may be the most polite boy ever and would certainly hand over your sitting rights for an elderly lady, but ajumas do not consider this. They scuttle at high velocity, with a low centre of gravity, and an immutable tenacity. Plus, given Confucian priority of respect to age, they exercise all of their privileges while shoving you with both hands out of their way. All the while without so much as a hint of regret. Even if you're not vying for the same seat as them, they have been known (ask Tyler) to body check you if you're along their beeline. And they can be quite strong. Do not be surprised if you spot an ajuma wheeling a GIGANTIC pull-cart brimming with it's startling load. Many elderly folk here continue to contribute to the manual labour force.

It is so weird - not that Canada is without it's share of nasty old women (or men). It's that because of Confucianism no one younger has the right to challenge their behaviour. So they get away scotch free. That is unless a Westerner is feeling fed up at the moment. I like to believe that Canadians have a certain respect for their elders too, but it ends where rudeness begins. Does it surprise you that the pimps of Korea are females, not males?

Age is so important to Confucianism. So much that you can only call people your own age 'friends'. Otherwise they are your 'older brother' or 'younger brother' with accompanying roles and responsibilities. For instance, my 'older brother' feels obligated to pay for the meals we share. Secretly this tarnishes quantity bonding because it would quickly make an older brother poor. So you're bound to your own age until your thirties when this more social norm becomes more lax.

All this being said, Korean culture is under tremendous transformation pressures from the influence of Western views on a traditionally conservative and monolithic society. A great rift exists between the young and old in their ideas. Thankfully respect permeates most relations and keeps a remarkable peace on this land.

My Mom Always Said I Looked Like a Model

I did not take Korea long to discover my true beauty - superficial though it may be. Please see my candid face at http://www.gqkorea.co.kr/

A Few Honourable Mentions

I don't intend to write any essays here. Today I write only for the many little stories or factoids that do not warrant their own post by themselves.

7 Eleven. I experienced some genuine glee when I first noticed that this country was full of them. EXCEPT, when you step into these mascqerading shops, you quickly perceive that aside from the store's name, nothing is familiar to you! Okay, okay - maybe a couple chocolate bars. But even the chips are foreign. And the only 'supposed' brand name chip (Sunchips) taste like chimera sunchip/buggle/awful chips.

To counter that disappointment, let me add the blessing of McDonalds. Woah! Easy! I would never say that in Canada. But in foreign lands, McDonalds are always more respectable. Especially when they offer you unbeatable and unbelievable prices at lunch. I could get 2 Bigmac meals (with tomato and bacon) and substitute their drinks for small shakes and only pay $7 Cdn. total.. Plus, it tastes like home, not kimchi (Korea's 'everywhere food'). [Tyler and I think that Korean body odor and old Korean fridges smell like kimchi; and that everything that tastes funny, like milk, has rice in it]. For the record, I don't mind the taste of Kimchi.

Scaring Tyler. Oh, he knew this was coming. It was one of my 'best ever' scares. Before I begin - a detail about our house. The bathroom shower has a mini sliding window that opens to a sheltered shoe removal area. From that area I was about to depart, when Tyler yells in his best Swartzenegger voice: "Get Down!" which startlers anyone who doesn't expect there to be anybody in the room with them. He was showering and decided to surpise me with a good natured scare. So I left to run an errand and crept back quietly to the same location where I could exact my revenge. This time the window was shut. I poise right in front of the foggy glass...then *slide* and with a yet more precise Arnold voice: "It's not a tumor!" Hahaha, I still laugh at his raw animal reaction. He quite seriously screamed bloody murder and through up his hands in the air. The kind of reaction you think Hollywood has embellished until you see it for yourself. Thankfully he was already laughing with me in seconds.

I think triplets are enough for anyone to give birth to in one day. Now I rest.