Michelle Kozlowski

The Ban Continues.

2011-03-07T21:23:00.000+09:00

After houseguests and new furniture and job changes, I am still on my television ban. Impressive, no?

Well to me it is. There were a couple slip-ups that involved group gleeking out, but other than that it's been iPod-only on the television and movie front.

I haven't been on the computer much either. I've felt very, very busy. I've BEEN very very busy.

Vagina Monologues rehearsals, yoga class, gym, friend dates. Sigh. I'm gonna go read now. (I'm so boring).

Scholarship

2010-11-21T20:22:00.000+09:00

I haven't been contributing much lately. So here I go again. Things in the works:

Writing schedule
Film editing schedule
Photo editing schedule

These things all need to nestle into my life. Regularly. Now is the time for change. Off we go, then.

It's not been the best of weekends. Many fails across the board. But we had some good Steve hangout time and banana cinnamon chocolate chip pancakes as well as veggie scrambles with melted Monterey Jack. Two breakfasts of champions in two days? Double win.

In the midst of friend fails and meet up fails and sister fails, we at least put together our G-Market shelves and now have little cubbyholes in which to store our belongings. Lately heaps were forming all over the place. Floors in Korea need to be dusted every one to two days, and that simply doesn't happen when your make up bag, mirror, clean sock pile, dirty clothes, notebooks, first aid supplies, liquid latex, and earrings are strewn about your living area. You know?

So with a clean, organized home I am ready to clean up and organize my life. Starting with my productivity. Rule number one: No. More. Television. That's right. We've outlawed it. I can watch what I like on my iPod on the way to work, but no more wasting time in the evenings with Top Model (sorry ladies, you're iPod bound). Unfortunately the pixels on my iPod classic are starting to rot. I may need to invest in a touch within the next six months. Boo. Double boo, in fact.

I've been podcasting nearly as much as I've been Dextering during my commute. I feel much more in tune with the world when Terry Gross interviews the next big whoever. And everyone needs to hear WORDS on Radiolab. Especially if you care about words...at all. Blew my mind.

So, iPod, keep on keeping on so that I can be inspired. Inspired to think, read, write, photograph, work, work, work. Here's to contributing. ::clink::

Something Fishy...

2010-09-28T21:53:00.001+09:00

I've been thinking a lot about fish lately. It doesn't make much sense. Maybe I'm working on an essay in my head. I once wrote a short story that feautured kissing gouramis (p.s. that's a kind of fish). My main character found himself at the pet store when he was thinking. Not just after the fight he'd had with his girlfriend, but often. He'd gaze into fish tanks and watch the fish tumble around like the thoughts in his head. He's walk the blue aisles and feel a stillness among all those finned creatures. Neon tetras would dart about, like they were cutting to and fro on a lacrosse field. Some yellow thing--maybe a cichlid--glided skillfully through its faux-rock fortresses. And this man worked things out. The fish aisles of the pet store were a place of refuge for him, my character. I don't even remember his name.

Me? I just like fish tanks. I like peering into every tank and cage and adoption center at a pet store. Put a cardboard box of bunnies in a subway station, and you've got fifteen minutes of my time. I look at the guinea pigs, size up the chinchilla, consider holding the hedgehog, ask if there are ferrets, and hold two dwarf mice together in the palm of my hand. Regularly. That is neither here nor there. I was talking about fish.

My partner doesn't eat fish. Well, that's not true. Hannah would love to fry up some mackerel for breakfast tomorrow, which would be about number four on my list of the top ten worst smells I can imagine waking up to. To be fair, this is a normal Korean breakfast. To be fairer, she is not Korean, but a registered legal alien of the country, exactly like I am. (Only she really loves that she is an alien, whereas I find the term peculiar and don't really consider myself one. An immigrant, perhaps, but alien? She loves it so much, she probably introduces herself that way. She should have business cards made: H. J. W. alien.) But...even though she would love some buttery, lemony gilled thing in her tummy, she is against the fishing industry as it is. I can't help but agree with her sentiment when she shoots articles my way on overfishing or damage to the sea floor. I still eat fish occasionally.

About as often as I eat fish, I let fish eat me. You read correctly. I'm talking about Dr. Fish. More than half a dozen times last year, I let those little guys nibble in between my toes, and everywhere else from mid-shin down: ankles, heels, arches, tops, backs, sides, etc. I found new friends to go with me. I dragged visitors from other countries; I met friends for coffee and convinced them to dip their cleaned feet into the tanks (set in the floor at the coffee-shop spa). I've found myself become some version of my character. I've walked into this coffee shop, taken a lap, and just looked into the eyes of those fish. I didn't even make an appointment or order a smoothie. I just made sure that they were there. Just in case I needed them.

I've strolled in alone more than once just to check on them. To make sure they hadn't all died or been relocated. I'm still thinking about what they provided me. Comfort and joy, sure. Giggles (Gosh, they're ticklish). It's also something Hannah won't do. I tell her to try it. I try to work some persuasion magic only to find that she is immune to it. She's watched me giggle and shriek trying to hold my feet underwater. Seen me do this again with her brother, with her best friend. She just can't go there. It creeps her out and sounds incredibly unpleasant to her.

Something about it lets me let loose. Let's me laugh and feel weird and good and silly. It eases stress, makes me smile, and only costs $2. Also: my feet are smoother afterward. Plus, I'm a meal ticket for about a hundred mouths at once!

Aren't I giving back to the fish community? Providing them with delectable dead skin cells? Or am I just taking more away?

This Guy.

2010-09-22T22:39:00.002+09:00

Chris, the guy drunk on gum, is mad that I don't blog. He, who has never blogged...who has barely facebook commented is upset. And I am upset that he is upset.

So by gosh, I will blog.

Just not tonight... :)

Two Weddings in Two Days

2010-08-05T02:57:00.001+09:00

This weekend was one filled with so much love. Love exploded on the faces of people everywhere and dripped down their legs and onto the floor and even rolled beyond in some instances, into riverbeds. We jumped and splashed and danced in the love. It's true that love actually is all around us. Just like the movie claimed. We drank it up. We peed it out. Some vomited love and we loved them for it.

On Saturday Nikita and Mark finally tied the knot after ten years. Wowza. I've known these two love birds since high school and was privileged enough to participate in some of the unfamiliar (to me) traditions and ceremonies that lead up to an Indian wedding. And I took some pictures.

After Friday night's dancing extravaganza (Garba / Raas party), Saturday morning came around. Bridesmaids' hairdos were done; saris were draped; make-up was applied.

Nikita looked more beautiful than ever. Mark looked stunning whether he was in his Indian or western attire. There was a glow about the couple that was inspiring, enchanting, just plain old love on fire. I admittedly am a crier in general. But I cried reading the program on this one. I cried watching it all go down. I sniffled through the explanation of the Hindu ceremony's symbolism, and more tears oozed out during the toasts at the reception.

Better even than the smile on Nikita and Mark's faces was how accepting both families were of this union. An Indian American woman, a white Irish Catholic dude: blessings all around. I can only hope that my family supports me as much if I choose to marry someday.

Fast forward 3 hours: we are on a bus Boston's Logan Airport and off to Milwaukee to be with Rachel and Dan as they got hitched.

Rachel and Dan met in Spokane, WA four years ago at my MFA program. I'm fairly certain that Dan began loving Rachel the very first day he met her. Which was semi-awkward since they both had significant others. Dan became her friend and wooed her and then all became right in their world about five months later when these two really good friends started dating.

All weddings (aside from the Vegas variety, perhaps?) are very planned. There is so much detail that goes into every aspect (you know if you've planned or helped plan a wedding). Rachel and Dan's wedding was so THEM. The save the dates were printed on plantable paper (with seeds that sprouted into flowers); Rachel's dress was made by her aunt from lace they collected from various estate sales; the bouquets were picked up the day before from the Milwaukee farmer's market.

After seeing Nikita glowing with happiness, I wasn't sure I'd ever see a prettier bride. Then, the very next day Rachel matched her! Her dress was unique and incredibly flattering. Her hair was just how she'd like it; she and her bridesmaids were barefoot. And she was the most beautiful I'd ever seen her. She and Dan were both so happy (even when they were crying a tiny bit during the ceremony). I'm so happy for them as they start their new life together in Indianapolis. New jobs, new city, new apartment, and the start of their marriage.

I have two weeks left in America before Hannah and I leap into the start of our fourth year together (and 2nd year in Korea). I am looking forward to having a home, a bed I sleep in every night, time and space to write, and a routine.

I feel so lucky to have had these five months to travel, reconnect with friends, take some personal space, hang out with my family, and dance in piles and piles of love. May the love keep on a'spewing out over everything and everyone.

Crestone, CO

2010-06-16T03:23:00.002+09:00

I've been here for nine days.

Here is a place called Crestone, CO, a "town" of 140 people. It's plunked in one region of the San Luis valley, which rests 8,000 feet above sea-level and is about 60-miles across at this point. It's surrounded by daunting, gorgeous mountains that make Massachusetts' mountains look like anthills, or good places for sledding with toddlers.

I'm staying with my friend Matthew who runs a meditation retreat center in this beautiful locale. From the window of my guest room (complete with a 10-foot long desk and king size bed), I can see a vast flat area with small cacti and little bushes that remind me of sage, but aren't. They're greasewoods--a plant I know nothing about, except that they can be spiky, like most of the growth in this area.

Some houses dot the mile or so that falls between me and the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, named so for the color they often reflect at sunset: a rosy, reddish glow. I was told that the missionaries who came upon the range were reminded of the blood of Christ, and so named the rocky, evergreen-filled mountains accordingly. I've been hiking up them two times now. They are full of fir trees and aspen. The aspen leaves are incredibly bright green right now.

Hiking the beasts, you gain elevation quickly, weaving up the scree-filled switchbacks. Their peaks are around 14,000 feet. I got to about 11,800 feet when I hiked to Willow Lake. The hike was nine miles round trip and took a solid six hours to get up and back.

The lake at the top was well worth it. A waterfall poured into it at the far end, and it was lined with peaks.

I'm still sore today (two days later). From my window I can also see the Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve. They are the tallest dunes in North America and take up over 30 square miles of space. They look so small from my window, but when we drove up to them I thought: My god, they're the size of mountains! Because they are next to the Sangre de Cristos, though, they look puny from far away.

The dunes invite you to climb them. And climb them. And maybe go over this ridge of sand until you feel like leaping or tumbling or sliding down a slope. Many people bring sleds, or even snowboards for extra sliding fun. When I visited the dunes, dark gray clouds loomed overhead. When the wind blew, I could see sand coursing up a slope. Popping your collar seems legitimate here. It was raining as soon as we crossed the frigid little stream to get from the parking lot to the sand dunes. We proceeded up the sandy incline. The rain got bigger and harder. We kept going into the rain. Weather here is strange.

We tumbled into a valley and climbed out the other side. It began to hail. Marble-sized hunks of half-melted ice dotted the sand, got caught in my hair, and made red marks on my arms. My legs could feel the work they were doing to walk in sand, and then run through it in the hail. We got back to the car soaked and cold and started driving toward the sunny, bright blue sky. I looked back to make sure--and it was still disastrously gloomy behind us.

We went to Alamosa, a town of 8,000, to grab beers and happy hour snacks. Alamosa and Salida are the surrounding "big cities" where you can go to get groceries from a Safeway, or supplies from a hardware store. When you're in Crestone you can go to the tea shop, the organic health foods store, or the coffee shop for fun. That's about it.

I could never live here.

It's so beautiful, but I need people and places. The town also has only one restaurant (though two more are scheduled to open this summer). If, however, one needed a writing retreat or relaxing getaway full of hikes or mountain backdrops, I cannot think of a better place.

I've loved my time in Crestone. :)

My Photos

2010-06-06T13:46:00.001+09:00

Check out my sweet sweetness at Artists Wanted:
http://www.artistswanted.org/michellekozlowski

& wish me luck.

Colorado

2010-06-05T01:26:00.001+09:00

I'm having a blast in Colorado, where summer is actually here (unlike in WA). Stayed with Olivia and BJ when I arrived, and am now in Denver with Shira and Tracy. Tomorrow I head into the mountains to see Matt. :) Just letting you all know where I am.

What's on the menu for today? Hiking, Art Walk, Catchin' up.

I'm up to date!

2010-05-31T03:57:00.000+09:00

I'm getting back in the groove of having semi-consistent internet access. It's my style.

I'm actually up to date on my photo blog (still!): Snapped Syntax, which feels pretty darn good.

Next task: Complete compiling my university application packets to send off to Seoul. I'm digging into my cover letter later today. Friends of mine are already locking down interviews, so I feel a little behind with only one application turned in. (But congrats to CL).

I'm currently sitting on Rachel and Dan's couch in Spokane, WA. I've already had many wonderful (amazing!) hosts in the states. Thanks to Hilarie (et al), Stacy and Chris, The Whitmores, Tizzy and Jeremy, Maya and Chris (and Zoey) and Rachel and Dan.

I've had a surprising number of run-ins with old friends, too. I feel a little bit at home in Spokane (which is awkward to admit), as I cross paths with more and more folks from my recent MFA past. Not just folks, but brilliant people, all still doing how they do, some of them transitioning into new lives: new jobs, new babies, novel drafts near completion, more publications under their skirts. Reconnecting with them feels right and I miss having them in my life.

I've had the pleasure of drinking chai, tea, cosmopolitans, Italian soda, Blue Moon, chocolate martinis, lemon ginger tea, and hot chocolate with Tana, Luke, Mandy, Aaron, Chris, Terry, Dan, Rachel K., Megan, Rachel T., and Rebekah.

Still to meet: Julia, Jonathan.

Next stop? Colorado. I'll get to see Olivia & BJ, Shira & Tracy, Matthew and Kristy (Kiki) & Whitney as I bump from Denver to Boulder to Crestone and back to Denver.

America! Home of the...parking lot?

2010-05-21T03:14:00.002+09:00

After fourteen months away, I finally set foot on US soil--or should I say concrete?

Taking Portland's MAX light rail from the airport to the bus station I noticed several things our great country has to offer: Target, parking, Best Buy, parking, IKEA, so much parking. The lots are "nice," mind you, dotted with trees on islands between rows of parking spaces. But the "nature" was not really natural. The artificial look of trees sprouting up throughout extensive pavement, simply put, disgusts me. I nearly booted in my hiking bag. Good thing the protective rain cover was on.

Hilarie's home, a meat-free house inhabited by five female Portlanders, is where I spent my first few days back in the United States. From the front stoop/yard, the view is predominantly of Fred Meyer (and its parking lot). The natural health clinic and Vietnamese pho restaurant can also be seen from the stoop (their parking area, a much more modest eight or so spots). The Chase Bank sign illuminates the kitchen and upstairs bedroom windows at night. Jiffy Lube also resides on that side of the house, its sign even higher than that of Chase.

Oh, America, I thought. You're so weird. Perks? The beer selection at Fred Meyer was brilliant. I'm used to Cass and Hite and overpriced Bud, Tiger, Tsingtao, Heineken, and Hoegaarden. In fact, the selection of everything was quite overwhelming. Do you know how many brands of toilet paper there are in the average American supermarket? It's ridiculous. Just look at the aisle of spaghetti sauce. In Korea there is ONE kind of spaghetti sauce in a normal neighborhood bodega. It may have a meat and mushroom variety, but that's if you're lucky.

In Korea, seasons still matter when it comes to availability of certain fruits and vegetables. Of course things are still imported, but farmers haul their crops into the city in truckbeds and blare annoying gargling nonsense which I interpret as "strawberries, strawberries-hamnida" or "cabbage, cabbage-hamnida" (-hamnida is a polite ending in Korean). But Americans like more choice. And maybe they like to pull little Veruca Salt's and demand things NOW. Who cares if it's December and you want a durian? You can go on out and get one. It might cost you, but it's available somewhere.

After leaving Hilarie's and moving to Stacy's, I had to sort out my own excess. I'd been keeping my belongings in a storage unit and decided paying for it was ludicrous. In that 10'x10', we had SO MUCH STUFF. Just stuff. Aside from the kayak, bed, table, chairs, and desk, there were boxes and boxes and tubs and tubs full of... junk.

Much sorting took place, and by post yard sale and post Good Will drop-off, we had halved our belongings. That felt pretty good. But, I still have a bunch of crap sitting in stacks of boxes at Hannah's parents' house. Nothing anyone would want to steal...just clothes, photo albums, art from China, a teapot. Stupid things. I haven't seen or used them in over a year, but it seems silly to just get rid of them. Sigh. I'm sure I'll like them in my home when I come back someday.

But for now, I'm just visiting. It should be a good summer. Oregon to Washington to Colorado, Washington, Massachusetts, New York, Wisconsin, Washington. Excessive? Am excited to revisit some USA nature (not just cities of cement). Already had a little wilderness excursion, a 36-mile bike ride, drive through gorgeous mountains and river gorges. Looking forward to more.

Tioman, Malaysia

2010-04-17T16:44:00.000+09:00

I am safely nestled into Mentawak Beach in Juara Village on Tioman Island, Malaysia. I've been here for 10 days or so working with the Juara Turtle Project and I've already seen a giant turtle mamma laying eggs. It was breathtaking. It takes about three hours or more for the whole process (the hauling of the giant body onto land; the digging of the nest; the dropping of the eggs--154 in this case; the covering of the nest; the exhausting trek back to water).

Even with projects around the world protecting eggs, and raising juvenile turtles, sea turtles are still endangered. Green Sea Turtles don't reach reproductive maturity until they are TWENTY-THIRTY years old. To survive until egg-laying time is a triumph in itself, considering turtles can be eating from the time they are eggs. They can also get hit by boats, choke on trash (plastic bags/cigarette butts), etc. Poor turtles.

Part of my responsibilities include patrolling the beach each night, looking for turtle tracks, turtles and nests. The goal of the project is to protect eggs (from lizards, birds, and humans--who eat and sell the eggs). Sometimes we actually dig up and move the eggs into our hatchery (safe zone), while other times we net the surrounding area and leave them on their natural beach.

When babies hatch (in two months), we release the turtles where their nest site originally was.

We are situated on the east coast of the island. It's a small village. I've enjoyed swimming in the ocean every day, and catching sunrise every morning (I have to wake up at 6:45am for morning chores). It's very peaceful.

Today I hiked across the island (three hours through the jungle) to have this opportunity to internet. :)

Flight to Portland scheduled for May 3rd!

The Hump Hostel, Kunming, Yunnan, China

2010-03-16T13:09:00.001+09:00

We stayed at The Hump from March 14th to March 16th.

I had emailed to reserve a private room with shared bathroom ahead of time (which was listed as available on Hostelworld.com). They told me they only that the private room available on March 14th. I said I'd like it for our first night, then we'd switch to the ladies' dorm room.

There were about seven emails total in our exchange, each of which seemed never to be fully understood by the other party. But The Hump staff were quick to reply.

We showed up to the Hump and they said that the only room was the private room. Not the private with the shared bathroom, but the private ensuite room for 138yuan/night (not 80, like the shared bath that I wanted). In reviewing the email, that does seem to be the room they indicated, even though it's not the one I asked about.

We stayed in the 8-bed dorm room the first night (30yuan/person). The room was full. It has wonderfully high ceilings, terrible light (but each bed has its own private lamp, some of which worked). The lockers were huge (my entire 80L hiking pack fit inside without a problem) and it has a mechanical lock that opens when you hold a plastic key up to it. There aren't rickety ladders to the top bunks, but staircases with built-in hinged doors that reveal little cubbies to tuck your belongings of less value into (food, shower items). There was a big window/balcony thing to let in a breeze and some sunlight.

Most of the women kept to themselves. We never exchanged hellos with them (partly because half of them were asleep, even when we checked in around 8pm). The light was still on when we came back to the room to go to bed at midnight, but nearly everyone was asleep. We turned the light off, only to realize maybe one person was awake in her bed and wanted the light for the entire room on. Even with the great lockers, women tossed their belongings everywhere. Instead of putting their suitcases on the floor or under the bed or in their locker, they were strewn open and spewing onto the one counter area in the room.

Mosquitoes were not a problem. The weather was delightful (50-75 degrees).

But, when we went to brush our teeth for the night, we read a sign posted on the mirror which states something like this: Sorry, but we have to decorate the bathrooms, so there is no hot water for about one week. Sorry for the inconvenience. Let the reception know if you need to take a shower. They also don't provide toilet paper in the restroom. They sell it for 1 yuan / pack at the reception desk.

The second night we paid 40/each to stay in the private room without the bathroom. The room had a slight odor of rotten oranges. It was dark and dank. There were no windows to the outside, only ones to the hallway, so there was no real ventilation for the room. There was a single light bulb hanging from the high ceiling, which was just depressing. Going to sleep was an issue. People cackled down the hallway. Their high heels echoed. People were shouting, clapping and just overall loud. There is a big bar/restaurant area and a nice outside deck/patio, which is great. At night it gets a bit smoky inside (even though smoking in the rooms is not allowed). The hostel also has a bar downstairs and bicycle rentals available. While we didn't rent bikes, I poked into the shop. They looked like they were in various states of ride-ability.

As far as location, this hostel has a lot going for it. Little market vendors line the alleys just outside. There is a large plaza right next to the hostel. Also, a short walk away is a shopping area, and an open air market with live animals for sale, flowers, artwork, tapestries, etc. The provincial museum is just a 15 minute walk. It's closed on Mondays, which we maybe should have checked before going. Oops.

I did need to take a shower our last morning. When I asked if there was a place I could do so, they promptly handed over a key to an ensuite room, so the shower was private, which was lovely. There was still no hot water, though. And it wasn't too hot outside this morning, so it was an uncomfortable and chilly experience. But my hair is no longer greasy.

The staff were reasonably friendly and helpful. Lots of information about Kunming and bus routes, etc. is posted clearly on the walls in English and Chinese. They held valuables in lockers by the reception for no fee. They set us up with a massage place that was cheap and nice (68yuan got me a 90-minute massage). They also provide flight and train booking services.

This hostel was fine. The windowless room was not. The bathroom construction was not cool. The noise level was inappropriate, but I suppose to be expected from a hostel that markets itself as a party hangout to meet other backpackers. But the restaurant and bar was actually cheaper than other hostels we've stayed in. Drinks ranged from 10-30 yuan. Food was reasonably priced for a hostel (15 yuan for breakfast instead of 25). There are plenty of cheap restaurants within walking distance, too (4-12yuan / dish).

If I come back to Kunming (which I'd like to), I won't stay here. I'm ready to catch my flight to Lijiang now. :)

We are IN Yunnan!

2010-03-15T01:02:00.001+09:00

I found this sweet map at http://www.johomaps.com.

We are in Kunming now (77 degrees Fahrenheit / 25 Celsius all week!), and intend to make it to Lijiang, Diqing/Shangri-la, Dali and maybe even Jinghong before going back through Kunming on the way out to Anhui province / Yellow Mountain.

Everything sounds glorious and touristy at the same time. Entrance fees are ABSURD to some places. Do you know how much we paid to go hiking at Huashan in Xi'An yesterday?

If you don't care, skip this part. SKIP--->

[1 kuai for the bus to the train station, 25 for the bus from the train station to Huashan, 10 for the taxi to the mountain from town, 60 or 100 for the entrance fee to the mountain (60 if you had an old student ID like I did), 5 for insurance, 20 for the roundtrip bus that takes you to the cable car, and 135 round trip for the cable car. (!) Then, we got back so late we missed the last bus out of town. We had to take a cab to the train station (40 kuai), then take the train for 20, and the bus for 1. I don't even want to add it...Like 282/person...Hannah paid 320ish. OMG. It's a mountain! It should be free! (Except for the cable car). Sigh.

(300 yuan is USD $44. We paid 4 kuai for 8 baozi. We paid 12 kuai for our breakfast: A giant bowl of tomato and egg soup, 8 baozi, 8 dumplings. I like CHEAP.)]

SKIP:

In Korea it doesn't cost money to "enter" mountains.

We were interested in checking out the natural stone forests (Shilin) outside of Kunming, but we're afraid it will be too expensive. They look cool, though. Entrance: 140 yuan! That isn't all that much in American money, but it adds up with transportation; plus it's two hours away. Booo.

I'll let you know what we DO end up doing. I'm sure it will be spectacular. Am loving the weather. Might ditch my winter coat...not yet though.

Xi'an to Kunming

2010-03-14T17:18:00.001+09:00

We've got an 8pm flight out of Xi'An to Kunming, Yunnan Province. I only hear good things about the entire province, so we hope to bounce around a bit and see a little of everything. We are looking forward to beautiful nature. :) And more exposure to some of China's minority races.

We'll be in Kunming for two days; then we'll take a little flight up to Lijiang. From there we'll bus over to Shangri-la and maybe Dali. Who knows? I guess we'll figure it out in the next couple days.

Internet aplenty still (when we stop to use it). Sorry I'm not writing more.

Xi'an has been a great place to spend extra time. Yesterday we hiked Mt. Huashan (well, half of it...we took the cable car up the beginning. The stairs of DEATH were not appealing.)

Our first couple days here were tame. I got some food poisoning as we arrived, so Hannah went to see the Big Wild Goose Pagoda on her own. The next day we walked around a bit and I tried eating some food. The next day I felt great! So we set out to see the Terra Cotta warriors, but left a little late and took a bus the wrong direction, so by the time we were ready to leave Xi'An it seemed to late to fit it in.

Instead we went to the Great Mosque, China's biggest mosque and spent the brilliantly WARM afternoon wandering through it, shedding coats and sweatshirts. (25 yuan entrance fee).

The Muslim quarter, by Xi'An's Drum Tower, is loaded with vendors and street food. Hannah bought a bag of deliciousness we later learned are jujubes, or Chinese dates. They lasted us as snacks for a few days. We picked up some souvenirs (argh: bargaining is SUCH a workout. I'm good at it, but I hate it), and put down some persimmon pancakes. Then, real hunger set in, so we ate so much chuanr for dinner (10 kebabs each), and some nan-like bread. We made friends with the Tibetan guys who were making the bread. They were a hoot. Communication was difficult as their English and Chinese were poor and my Tibetan is non-existent. One would roll dough over a rounded stone that had a cloth on it. Then he'd pick it up from under the cloth and slam it down into the oven (his whole arm inside the vertical oven). His colleague would spear it to pick it up out of the oven. Another guy, still, would brush oil over it and then it was slammed back down over the stone inside the oven before being speared and laid on the table by another guy. A young boy (maybe 10 years old), kept fetching water...I think for the oven. An old woman sat by in the warm evening air, close enough to catch the bread's aroma from her chair. It was delicious.

We made some friends at our hostel (Suji from Korea and Toshiki from Japan) and REALLY saw the Terra Cotta Warriors with them the next day. Suji is super adorable, outgoing and hilarious. She shouts "ni hao" at everyone and when people holler things in her direction regarding their shops, souvenirs, food, or bus information she proclaims: "Duibuqi ninnn, ting bu dong!" aka: "I'm sorry you (polite)! I don't understand!" But she's so chipper and cute that everyone seems to love her. They laugh at her butchered Chinese bargaining and want to give her the price she said (or tried to say).

I tried to teach her that in China you have to bargain hard. Be mean. Instead, her Korean whining escapes her mouth and she pouts. Her bottom lip comes out and she stamps her feet like a 5-year-old. Worse than my five year olds! I helped her get some souvenirs and she shouts the numbers wrong in Chinese. The shopkeepers end up wanting to give her the price. She makes a slight compromise and walks away with knit booties to display in her room. When we board a bus, she isn't shy to wave her finger no when people she doesn't like try to sit near her. She was a riot to hang out with.

Toshiki is much quieter, partly because he is still working on his English skills (and also can't speak Chinese). He was well-mannered and polite and trailed behind us girls as we cooed over the brightly colored stuffed dragons and hand-sewn zodiac animals. He came hiking with Hannah and me at Huashan Mountain yesterday. We started referring to him as a mountain goat as he galloped up and down staircase after staircase in his converse-like shoes. He rocks a Nikon camera and busted it out repeatedly in order to capture Huashan's immense rock peaks, birds in the bushes, and locks along the chain handrails.

We spent so long hiking that we missed the last bus out of the small town (two hours or more from Xi'An). We had to take a cab to the train station and get a "hard seat" ticket to Xi'an. Sadly, this ticket gives you a car number to ride, but you don't necessarily get a seat if the train is full, which it was. We walked through and through to the front of the car and sighed and stopped at the penultimate set of seats. Three seats on each side face a table between them. In the twelve seats whose aisle we stood between, eleven were filled with Korean tourists. Within three minutes they were shifting and smooshing together to give us the ends of their seats to rest on. Out came the cameras and we were a big family taking goofy photos. None of them spoke Chinese. A few spoke limited English, and between Toshiki, Hannah and me, we could saw various words in Korean. We found out that the one younger Korean goes to University in the very neighborhood in Seoul that Hannah and I just moved from. A couple of them spoke varied phrases in Japanese with Toshiki and it was great fun landing next to the other foreigners on the train car--especially when they turned out to be incredibly generous with their seats, their food and their alcohol! We shared travel stories and exchanged email addresses and wished each other good journeys in China.

We finally made it back to our hostel after a 13-hour day. My calves are sore.

We should catch our shuttle bus to the airport in just a half an hour or so, so I'm gonna go pack it in.

Part III: Beijing to Xi'An, Shaanxi Province

2010-03-11T00:16:00.001+09:00

This little number left from Beijing at 4:43pm (phew, we got to the station at about 4:30--scarily perfect timing) and arrived in Xi'An at the crack of dawn...Oh wait, it wasn't even dawn yet. It was 5:22am and dark (which did great things for the Bell Tower).

We traveled on the hard sleeper car (6 bunks to a "room," which is just an open, doorless area--one right after the other). It's not particularly hard or uncomfortable. It's just that each car sleeps so many people and people can smoke in between cars and it just wasn't a good ride this time around. On our walk to the dining car, we found that other cars were already sleeping at 8pm, while our car was incredibly social and active until lights out (10pm). I can usually fall asleep in about 10 minutes, but It took an hour and a half of sleep timers on my iPod to finally doze off. The lights coming on at 4:40am for ticket changes wasn't very nice, either. BUT, my panda sleep mask came in handy to nap for twenty more minutes before getting ready to disembark.

Yay for arriving in Xi'An. I love this city. Oh, but we bought oranges at a convenience store before the train right (not recommended--find or wait for a market/fruit cart) and they were sketchy and gave me food poisoning. It was a rough first day and a half in Xi'An. Hannah explored the Big Wild Goose Pagoda on her own (I've seen it before). We walked through the market the second day after discussing Tibet travel plans with our hostel and another travel agency. Impossible for us this time around.

Onward to Yunnan next! You can wait for pictures to be jealous. :)

Part II: From Qingdao to Beijing.

2010-03-11T00:01:00.001+09:00

We took the 6-hour fast train from Qingdao, Shandong Province to Beijing. Soft seats. Classy.

Part I: From Incheon, South Korea to Qingdao, China

2010-03-10T23:48:00.000+09:00

Leaving Seoul

2010-03-09T17:58:00.001+09:00

Unfortunately, my last weekend in Seoul was pretty lame. Friday night we had some friends over for a cozy dinner of pizza and homemade jalapeno poppers (Korean peppers, cream cheese, bacon, yum). Sadly, I didn't feel too well. I attributed the upset of my tummy to the half cup of sour cream I had just eaten with tortilla chips. Because I hadn't had much food all day, I went for some pizza anyway, only to upchuck it half an hour later.

Whatever. I felt better. Only problem is, I went on to vomit for the next seven hours. The reason we had a tame night in was because I had to work on Saturday. So I didn't get to sleep until about 5:30am (except for the five-minute cat naps where I dreamt I was vomiting, then would wake up and--you guessed it--vomit).

As I was finally getting longer doses of sleep, Hannah began vomiting. (!) I worked Saturday in my half-alive state. Hannah was still sick until noon or so. I went home and napped and regrouped in order to meet Jiyeon for dinner and goodbye. I also saw Lauren on the street for a hug-and-bye session.

Ah yes, then Hannah and I had to be out of our apartment by noon on Sunday. After many interruptions from our landlord, our school's maintenance guy, and ajumas vying for our belongings, we made it out by 1:00pm with a taxi full to the brim (so full Hannah had to take the subway) to go to Denise's place to deposit some of our life into her closets.

We reloaded another cab to Sonja and Kelly's where we were hosted in their new apt for a couple nights before heading out. Thanks to everyone for the help!!!

We took the subway and a cab to the ferry terminal in Incheon and boarded our amazing business class, 4-person room, which we had to OURSELVES! It was a lovely, 17 hour journey. BUT: instead of leaving at 5:30pm and serving dinner and having services on board, the ferry company thought it would be awesome to leave at 9:30pm and not arrive until 2:30pm the next day. NO foot massages were had; no food was available on board, besides at the GS25 mart, which was wiped out by the time we roamed over there.

But, we had a room to ourselves! A very toasty room, where the windows don't exactly open. All in all, a fine journey across the sea.

Where in the World is Michelle?

2010-03-05T23:35:00.001+09:00

We took the ferry from Seoul to Qingdao successfully. Roaming the seas for 15 hours in a business class cabin to yourselves is a phenomenal idea. Only problem was that it was roasting and there's not a window to crack. You had to make a trip to the upper deck for fresh air.

Qingdao was a delight of a town (more on that later), and we've just arrived to our hostel in Beijing. Took a little while to find, but we've managed to get our gigantic packs OFF our backs and are pleased to have beds to sleep on. Phew. Will post more later.

Leaving Korea

2010-03-02T10:27:00.002+09:00

I've had a wonderful year in Korea and now I'm off.

We're taking a ferry to Qingdao, China tonight. First stop tomorrow morning? The brewery (or the hostel to drop off our bags).

I'll try to post often.

Love,
Michelle

I only have eight days left with these adorable tykes!

2010-02-17T23:53:00.001+09:00

Halmoni, Grandmother

2010-01-16T18:48:00.062+09:00

One thing I love about languages is that with them, you gain an entire community of people with whom you can communicate.

After ten and a half months, I still can't speak Korean. I never took a class and I haven't picked up more than a few pleasantries and a few essentials. It's quite pathetic, actually--especially for a lover of language like myself.

Today (Jan. 16th) I went to The House of Sharing, a museum and residence for the sexual slavery victims of the Asia-Pacific War (Japanese Imperialism through WWII, 1932-1945). These "comfort women" serviced the Japanese military so that no villages would be raped and pillaged, and no soldiers would come back to the front line with venereal diseases (think: Rape of Nanking). Instead, the Japanese army systematically kidnapped women, or (mis)led them away from their families with the promise of work. They wound up in labor camps, or often in "Comfort Stations," where they were stripped of their identities, assigned Japanese names, and able to be selected, like items from a menu. Exactly like items from a menu. The wooden plaques outside their doors gave their name, a picture, and a description of their age and ethnicity. On the same wooden tablets used outside Japanese restaurants. Different girls were different prices and the men paid in military-issued money to use them for sex.

Each man of the lowest rank got 30 minutes with a woman (higher-ranking officers could get their pick of women for evenings or longer). The women would be raped by 10 or 20 or 50 or 80 or 90 men a day. Sometimes ships would dock and 5,000 men would need "comfort" and "servicing." The women were beaten. Raped. Cut open. Torn open. When they became pregnant, they may have become examples through public torture and execution. Or they may have endured forced abortions. They may have tried to run away, but they were almost always caught.

Think of yourself or a woman you know who has been raped or sexually abused. That's one in four women. Think of the kind of effect that incident had on her life, her psyche, her well-being. Think of it happening 30 times a day for 4 years.

See a replicated room that looks much like the 4x7 foot one she was trapped in.

Imagine what happened in this room. Over and over and over again.

Then meet the woman it happened to.

Know that she speaks Korean and you do not. Know that she was silent for fifty years. She never told anyone about that experience. She was ashamed--a whore who let down her family. Finally, she came forward in 1992, with the other "comfort women." She gave her testimonial.

Needless to say, it was an incredibly powerful and humbling experience to sit on the floor in the same room with seven survivors, or Halmoni (grandmothers). A few folks around spoke Korean and could do some translating. One woman really loved Canada. She wasn't impressed with my status as an American. "Canada, OKAY!" she exclaimed with a thumbs up.

The women are too old to give testimonies each time they have visitors. I wouldn't want them to. How hard it must have been to live through such things, to have them happen to you. I certainly wouldn't want to talk about them on a regular basis for foreign visitors.

Half an hour into the visit, some Chinese Americans joined the circle I was in with a Halmoni. She started speaking Chinese with them, but only one could speak just a hint of Chinese. But I just so happen to be conversational in Chinese. I found out that Halmoni lived in China from 1943 (when she was abducted at the age of 16) until 2000 when she moved back to Korea.

She talked about watching the flags change when Hong Kong was given back to China in 1997 and feeling so strongly about a country regaining its independence. And she cried and cried watching the Hong Kong and Chinese flags replace the Union Jack on TV. She was talking about China, but it only made me think of what it means when a country loses its independence--to the point where your languages, your names, your relics, and your women are taken. I think the event paralleled Korea regaining its independence, and her regaining her own independence (when she was rescued after WWII ended).

The House of Sharing is a must-visit place for anyone traveling or living in Korea. These women went through so much as young girls, stayed hidden for so long, and have been fighting for so long. They've been protesting outside the Japanese Embassy every Wednesday since 1992. They had their 900th protest on January 13th. They have seven demands which have not been met, the most poignant of which may be: an apology.

I'm just in awe of these women, their strength. I know I can't even imagine the extent of the abuse they suffered. When I try, it makes me sick. I feel so grateful having had the chance to meet them, and to speak with one directly made me even more grateful. Having a language in common was a pleasant surprise.

While I'm at it, I should also recommend the documentary 63 years On by Korean director Kim Dong Won. I saw it last spring and it was an informative and well-done piece about this issue.

A New Year Already?

2010-01-03T17:25:00.006+09:00

Hannah's brother, Jonathan, and her friend, Doneen, arrived in Seoul on Christmas night. We, like considerate hosts aware of things like "jetlag" and "16 hour flights," promptly took them to a 1:00am concert of the Rock Tigers.

Jonathan, a wee lad of only 18, enjoyed this first-bar experience. He knew then that his month in Seoul would be stellar. We visited a palace, and enjoyed Korean food and culture before departing for Beijing on the 27th.

Boy, did we cram it all in there. Sights? Great Wall - Mutianyu, Forbidden City, Temple of Heaven. Food? Beef and mutton chuanr (kebabs), seahorse, snakeskin, scorpions, Beijing duck. Shopping? Pearl Market, Silk Market, Wangfujing (street food way). Wow. It was tiring, but so fun. My Chinese is surprisingly amazing after having not spoken it in three years. I was pretty impressed with myself and my friends were so happy I was with them. And I was happy they were with me. :)

Now it's 2010. I have 8 weeks left of teaching (omg), then I'm back to China for a month-long tour where I intend to frolic in the plum blossoms and maybe finally get to Yellow Mountain (if it's not too cold) and to Tibet (if it's not too annoying--but the train tracks are finally in!)

Goals for this year: to write, write, write. Last year was kind of a writing flop. I didn't make time for it in my schedule. I also intend to be more photographically inclined as I keep up with my blog: http://snappedsyntax.blogspot.com and update my flickr with recent photos that are sorted into neat little sets and collections: http://www.flickr.com/photos/17693954@N04/.

Hope your twenty-tens off to a great start!

Rock Tigers

2009-12-07T10:53:00.001+09:00

Rock Tigers, originally uploaded by mlkozlowski.

I'd been waiting to see Korean rockabilly and I finally did. WOW! Punk rock attitude and rockabilly music IN KOREAN! It was amazing and fun and this band put on one of my favorite live shows, ever. Plus, they were great material for photos.

Check 'em out!

"Dissonance"

2009-11-29T23:10:00.000+09:00

My Award-Winning 48 Hour Film Project short finally made its way to the web. Happy viewing. :)

Logline: Evicted by his girlfriend and misunderstood by the world, a cellist finds solace in his music on a very long and difficult day.

"Oh My God, We Ate Blowfish and Didn't Die"

2009-11-25T08:32:00.036+09:00

Yes, that's correct. After more than two months of rescheduling, we finally had our double-date with Sonja and Kelly. We went to the Seoul Arts Center for the Emerging Korean Artists exhibition (and it ROCKED). After arting, we ate blowfish. It was delicious and no one died of crazy poison. Yayyy for BOK-JIP(boke-jeep aka puffer fish).

Incredibly awesome though we are, our combined Korean is still tremendously shabby. We walked in and said "puffer fish" and blew out our cheeks while the woman was clearly trying to ask us how we wanted it. We shrugged and read the menu aloud (in Korean, trying to recall the meanings of words "that means raw...I think that is fried?") After a few moments a competent English speaker appeared and assisted us in our quest for blowfish.

It came out and it was delicious and we were in awe of having achieved our goal so long in the making (esp. Kelly and Sonja who'd been planning since the summer to eat the stuff).

Sunday

2009-11-15T12:16:00.002+09:00

Ah-nwa (Korean for "Oh darn"), the weekend is almost over and I still feel unproductive. While I am keeping up on the photo project blog, I still haven't sorted my old hard drive's partially recovered contents.

Friday I went to an improv comedy show. There was belly dancing during intermission, then a charity bachelor/bachelorette auction (which I ducked out of to see The Time Traveler's Wife). Yesterday I met Hannah for some shopping and got harassed for taking pictures in my own neighborhood. On my own little street! But I wasn't intimidated, just annoyed, and finally the dude backed off and just stood behind me watching what I was doing. It was awkward. I'm not even sure HE lived around my place. I wasn't like...on a ladder looking into someone's window. I was taking a picture of a bicycle. Come on, dude.

After we shopped, we got out of the cold and went into Dragon Hill Spa. It was a glorious few hours of trying every hot tub in the women-only area (including Japanese style outdoor wooden tubs. It is funny every time a nude woman steps outside, into the 30 (-1)-degree weather, lets loose a little gasp or shriek, and runs across a stone courtyard into a steaming hot tub. Thank goodness no one slipped (that I saw). We also went into the aroma steam room and the sauna. We could have also opted to pay for additional services (massage for foot, face, or body, hardcore loofa scrub-down to remove every last dead or shabby skin cell you've got, some kind of reflexology thing?), but we didn't try those out.

Some families spend the whole day there. There's a restaurant, a bar, a movie theater, a PC bar, etc. You definitely COULD spend the whole day. The spa also had traditional jimjilbang hot rooms, and two other kinds of even hotter rooms (co-ed). We ran out of time to try them.

Then we met Ellen for her last hurrah in Seoul (a nice meal and a couple drinks to follow) before she moves on to India on Monday. You are always saying goodbye to someone in Korea. Everyone's on their own little rotation. But new people are always coming, too...

Anyway, tonight is the Awards Ceremony and Wrap Party for the 48 Hour Film Project. I'm pretty excited about that. :) Have my fingers crossed. I'm thinking we have a good shot at audience favorite, and best use of line of dialogue. We'll see what goes down!

While I suck,

2009-11-11T23:06:00.004+09:00

about posting, I do have my reasons. Life is busy. I'm not home much. October was so crazy with the film project, going out of town, etc. Our film screened last weekend. Was great to see it on the big screen! More nonsense: with the deletion and reformatting of my hard drive, I've been bummed about lost photos and how I should have been posting way more.

Luckily, Hannah managed to recover a lot off the hard drive, so now I have to sort through a few thousand images and find the ones I need/want. That ought to keep me busy. (But she wants it done ASAP, so I should spend my weekend doing that. Blah.)

In the meantime, I've started taking ONE photo a day to post. I joined up with Amaris Ketcham to do a photo project. We will each take and post a single photo a day. Hers are on the left, and mine the right. Having the images paired will make them speak to each other. More meaning can resonate between them. And some pretty cool pictures should accumulate.

Check it out: http://snappedsyntax.blogspot.com

Yay for writer/photographers. :)

48 Hour Film Project

2009-10-28T12:59:00.000+09:00

We did it. We made a movie.

Friday, October 23rd, we received a character (Jae Park, Real Estate Professional), a prop (eyeglasses) and a line of dialogue ("I don't believe you") to use in our film.

Then, we picked our genre out of a hat: SUSPENSE/THRILLER. What did we have to say about that? "Hellllll to the no." So we tossed it back and took our luck with the Wild Card Genres. We ended up with: Silent Film.

A silent film doesn't mean NO sound. It just means that you can't use any original actual sound, or voice overs. If a door shuts, you can put the sound of a door shutting in the film, you just can't put the sound of YOUR door shutting WHEN it was shot. Music, etc. is all fair game.

We met, brainstormed, then began writing (slightly behind schedule). We wrote and wrote and wrote some more. The time was flying and it was 3am. The production crew was getting antsy to begin making a shot schedule. After a couple turned down ideas, we through them something we thought would be fun to shoot, if not a completely original amazing story. With that, us writers took cat naps, and the director & team pretty much re-wrote it into something else, but something they felt comfortable working with.

We shot it, edited it, and got it in on time! Phew.

Sleep

2009-10-19T10:40:00.003+09:00

I really enjoy getting 8+ hours of sleep. I'm such a good sleeper too. When I get into bed, I am OUT in five minutes. Mayyyybe 8 minutes.

If I toss and turn for 10-15 minutes, I get really irritated. HOW AM I NOT ASLEEP YET?! I think, then I flip my pillow over and roll the other way. SERIOUSLY, SELF, WHY?

Maybe five out of the last seven days I've had a HARD time sleeping. Like...as hard as my mom, maybe. None of this conked-out-in-5-minutes heaven that I'm used to, but HOURS. Sometimes 2.5 hours and I'm still not asleep. Wahhhh. I'm not stressed; I'm not thinking about anything important. How do people put up with this every single night? I haaaaaaaaaaaate it.

Sometimes thoughts certainly enter my mind during this time. Lately thoughts of life after Korea. Maybe a house with a yard in Portland (that'd be nice). I could get a pet goat...wtf? Why aren't I sleeping? Then my brain switches to things to do before the 48 Hour Film Project. My oh my. I guess that is where my stress is coming from. I don't feel "stressed" though. I just think about it.

Four more days, then production begins! AH! :) Hopefully I can find some time to get some solid sleep, though.

"No Children" by The Moutain Goats

2009-10-16T20:14:00.001+09:00

48 Hour Film Project

2009-10-11T22:33:00.006+09:00

Am so looking forward to the weekend of stress and no sleep coming up on October 23-25th!

What the mo-fo am I talking about, you ask? Why, none other than the 48 Hour Film Project in SEOUL. It's the project's first year in Seoul, so they are DISORGANIZED. I mean the producers no offense. In fact, this is better. There are only 10 teams signed up, so hopefully the competition is fierce, but small. And hopefully we win and our award-winner goes to the Cannes Festival and competes against the world.

But before that happens, we kind of have to make a movie. On Friday, the 23rd, we will receive a character, a prop, a line of dialogue and a genre. Then, the writing begins. We will write a screenplay, rehearse it, shoot it, edit it, score it, render it, burn it and deliver it all in 48 hours.

Crazy, right?

We have built up a pretty sweet team complete with camera people, a director, a DP, producers, musicians, singers, actors, production assistants (boom mic holders, coffee fetchers), logo designers and the like. Securing a location is next on our to-do list (and about all else we have left to do before the 48 hours starts and we can actual start the project). Sadly, the form is only in English, which may pose a problem with Korean property owners and their willingness to sign it, even if a Korean explains the form. But whatev. Try we shall.

Check for mundane and fascinating updates on our twitter page: http://twitter.com/ThemApplesFilms

Top Chef ish.

2009-10-04T16:58:00.003+09:00

Necktie Marathon

2009-09-27T12:09:00.005+09:00

Last weekend, I woke up pretty early for a Saturday. 7:15am. I headed over to Liz's to give her wedding hair before heading to Guro Digital Complex for the big race.

Runners were required to wear a short-sleeved dress shirt and a necktie or bow tie. As you may imagine, I do own a few ties. But instead of going with my plain, American-bought classics, I acquired a new Korean tie adorned with pink sparkly flowers.

We rocked it, even after sitting in the sun for an hour and a half. The race started 45 minutes late (boo). There were two hills (boo). And I was wearing black (idiot).

Good times, though.

One More Time

2009-08-29T22:25:00.006+09:00

Yes, it's Saturday. Normally I avoid Kyodae (the subway station where I work) over the weekend, but the doctor insisted I see her again for a *second* follow-up.

Whatever. Who can say no when three trips to the private clinic is still less than $10, including metro fare? Oh yeah, plus it's my health we're talking about.

This time I had Hannah in tow, as she thought she was developing my illness (oopsies, sorry). Doc assures us that we have different symptoms and prescribed us each some meds. Huzzah. She told me to finish off my last 10 packets of medication and that I should not go back again. Turns out my tonsils' mucus sacks are close to gonzo! I kind of want to say huzzah again.

I should also mention that each follow up visit took about 4-6 minutes including my time in the waiting room. Yes, more points awarded to Korea here.

After our trip we had a lovely "picnic" lunch on a small stone wall beside a patch of grass outside a bank near Myongdong. Then we shopped for about eight hours. Good news? We made a bet (about the direction of a store), for which I won a foot rub! Also, we both got new school clothes (including a couple items to share. Bonus). AND we found a vintage store. I'd post a picture, but I got scolded with a "no taking pictures" (in Korean) as soon as my digital was out of its case. Boo hoo.

Been so long a day I can't bring myself to haul toosh out to the Rockabilly show tonight in Hongdae, which is a damn shame. Who doesn't want Rockabilly in Korea? Righhht? Over and out.

Return Trip

2009-08-28T12:53:00.004+09:00

Went back the the doc's this morning on the way to work (yes, work). Got a new prescription. Now I take FIVE pills every five hours, not just four. Good times. W2800 for doctor's, W4200 for new drugs. Still makin' out like a bandit, but have to go back in tomorrow to check my improvement and see if I need a readjustment of medication.

Seriously, healthcare. I love you. $2.25 copay? Heavenly. At least illness doesn't create a gaping hole in my wallet (but my throat hurts. A lot. It's quite difficult to swallow. That didn't stop me from finishing my salmon sashimi for lunch, though. I mean, I can't take pills on an empty stomach, after all.)

No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed

2009-08-27T14:04:00.006+09:00

I adore the Korean health care system. I was a little worried that I may have H1N1 (or any strain of the flu). Last night I had a hard time sleeping. EVIL sore throat, fatigue, fever, chills, headache like whoa. AKA A small dose of death lay beneath my uvula.

This morning was not much better. I went to work where they took my temp which boiled in at 101.6 degrees (38.7C). So I watched my kids draw until 11am when the sub could get there. A Korean colleague took me to a private clinic nearby school where I was diagnosed with Acute Tonsillitis and prescribed medicine within half an hour for the whopping price of W3500 (aka $2.80).

The pharmacy on the first floor hooked me up with my antibiotics, anti-inflammatory, and whatever the other two pills are (fever reducer and...?) Boom, only W2800 (aka $2.25). Yes, for $5.05, I saw a doctor and got drugs. Now I will drink lots of water and sleep. Goodnight.

According to wikipedia:

Symptoms of tonsillitis include a severe sore throat (which may be experienced as referred pain to the ears), painful/difficult swallowing, coughing, headache, myalgia (muscle aches), fever and chills. Tonsillitis is characterized by signs of red, swollen tonsils which may have a purulent exudative coating of white patches (i.e. pus). There may be enlarged and tender neck cervical lymph nodes.

Malaysia: A Chronological Tale

2009-08-04T22:35:00.042+09:00

Many a Hagwon employee fizzles out after so many (five) months of teaching. Sometimes the thirty-eight hour work week really wears on a gal, and treats seem few and far between. Kids are tiring in a way nothing else is. You moms and pops out there know. That's why you put 'em in school, right? What I'm trying to say is: since my start in March, I've been looking forward to my summer vacation--a one-week time period where I had the chance to go any darn place I wanted (provided I could procure the funds and a visa). After much thought, my partner and I settled on Malaysia, mostly because it wasn't monsoon season there (unlike Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, etc), and because we didn't need visas to visit (Go USA?). We also felt cheated spending so much on airfare to get to Japan, which is so close. How dare they hike rates for peak vacation season! So we planned to get our money's worth and headed down to Malaysia (at 600,000 won [aka $493] round trip / person for the 5143 total miles). And that we did. Money well spent.

The only things that I can say I really knew about Malaysia prior to my visit are its approximate whereabouts, that its capital is Kuala Lumpur, and that there is a Turtle Project on a Malaysian Island, the founders of which Hannah had been in contact with while we lived in Portland, OR.

After a bit of research, I was thrilled to find out that diversity lay ahead (a welcome change to my homogeneous surroundings in South Korea). Everyone speaks Malay, it being the national language, but English is also widely spoken. Malays, Indians, and Chinese come together on the peninsulas and islands of Malaysia. You know what that means? Really, really good food. You can go for a traditional Malay breakfast (Roti Canai--a kind of flatbread --with curry sauce), a Chinese lunch, and an Indian dinner. Heck yes. It also means that I could bust out some Chinese. (And, no worries, I did).

Islam is the national religion of Malaysia. This was the first Islamic country I'd traveled to. Let me just say that the mosques were BEAUTIFUL. At first the hijabs and burkas were alarming, especially when side-by-side with tanks and skirts. My travel companions and I decided that there's something about a full burka that demands respect. It's hard not to sense a certain regality when a woman walks by with black cloth flowing all around her. But, gosh it was hot. I was freaking out when Hannah wore pants and long sleeves, nevermind these women who paired pants with burkas.

Anyway. We started out in Kuala Lumpur. We spent the first night in Trader's Hotel by Shangri-la, known for its SkyBar and its spectacular views of the Petronas Twin Towers.

(Photo courtesy of Traders Hotel website)

We splurged in order to get picked up from the airport, to feel cozy on night one, and to wake up to a sweet breakfast for Liz's birthday on Sunday morning. The bed was the best thing I've ever slept on in my entire life. Ever.

Perhaps I should introduce you to Liz. Liz works with me at SOT. As does Sadira. These two along with Hannah and I made a lovely and brilliant travel party.

We did have a little mishap in the hotel room where we locked the door with the metal latch, then came through the connecting door between the rooms, which closed behind us locking us out. Oops. A "rescue team" had to come and saw off the metal latch. Sorry, hotel. Eeek.

All was well, though, since we had purchased duty-free alcohol at the airport before arriving. Phew. Once our room was broken into by maintenance, we retired and Sadira stayed up for some hanging with our late night, on-their-layover-to-Indonesia friends. I missed any fun they presumably had. Luckily, I missed it for that glorious, glorious bed.

Next morning it was all braids in hair and breakfast in mouth. I just want to talk about the cheese and the bread. You cannot (CANNOT) get good cheese and bread in Korea. Or not without great difficulty and expense. But there, in that lovely hotel's fifth floor was baguette after roll after slice of dense or fluffy or soft bread lined up beside gouda and brie and cheddar and blue and spreadable cheeses. Wow. There was also fruit breads, cereals, a sushi bar, a fresh juice bar (pineapple, apple, kiwi, watermelon, orange, lychee, etc), an omelet bar, Indian foods, turkey bacon, steak bacon, potatoey goodness, and who knows what else. (I do get full eventually).

We dawdled so much that visiting the Batu Caves wasn't really a possibility as we had a 3pm show of The Merchants of Bollywood to catch. We moved our bags to our hostel, where our rooms were surprisingly ready and where we were next door to Chinatown / Jalan Petaling street. We marched outside into the immense equatorial heat + humidity and bumped into the Chinese Temple next door (where dudes tried to charge us. Psht.)

Once we'd taken in some incense, brightly colored dragons, and bowls of oranges, we moved on, bought some fruit, and stepped onto Petaling street (a peddling street). Vendor after vendor was (wo)manning her/his cart. T-shirts, magnets, make-up, perfume, hats, belts, lighters, wallets, blouses, skirts, purses, and watches were all prominently displayed along the street. It was a shopper's paradise. Bargaining can sometimes be a challenge, though. Who knows what a fair price is? I guess you have to think how much you're willing to pay. My strategy? I like to accuse everyone of having fake shit and then I cut the price by 80 percent. Sometimes I win, sometimes they shoo me. Whatever.

After wandering and gawking, we went back to our rooms and got ready for the show. Talk about a show. Many a Bollywood-style dance number (to original Bollywood tunes) was, well, danced. There were, to quote the program, "1200 costume changes, 2500 pieces of Indian jewelry." It was a glittering, swirling delight. The dancing was truly astounding. The storyline tried really hard to link it all together. Most importantly: Liz was WOWed to pieces for her birthday bash's big beginning.

We grabbed some afternoon brews after a failed attempt to find Berjaya Air tickets (to get us to The Island), then made plans for the night. Little India was most appropriate for dinner. Restaurants were hard to find amidst the shops, but we landed in an adequate one, which proved to rock naan like only naan can be rocked. Post-eats, we made our way back to hostel land and scoped out some local bars. Nothing like all Beatles music, shisha, and karaoke to wind down for the evening at none other than The Beatles Bar.

Next morning we got our acts together for a 5:45am leave-time to go to the airport, where the 8am flight had been canceled and tickets weren't available for days. We bought return flight tickets and took a cab to a bus to a bus where we arrived in Mersing too late to catch the last ferry (by minutes). We found a (super cheap!) hotel and spent the night (with a Chinese dinner and hotel room camaraderie) before getting our 5:30am ferry and finally making it to the large village of Tekek on Tioman Island.

Considering it was vacation, we were waking up earlier and earlier each day. Usually I have a serious problem when I discover the five o'clock hour still exists; however, this was worth it. We got to Tioman and wandered past some sweet bats (a whole row of trees was full), checked into our hotel, a quaint beach-side joint with a restaurant/bar and a scuba shop next door. We promptly proceeded to breakfast, which was sub par. Aside from the omnipresent flies, my "toast" and "sausages" turned out to be de-crusted white bread, oddly toasted in a sandwich maker of some sort, and two hot dogs.

But we were THERE. We'd made it to the island, I was full, and the beach was right beside our hotel. We wandered down to the sand, plunked down our things, and made our way to the water. The water!

I've never been anywhere tropical before. The ocean is only a friendly temperature in stories and movies. I'm used to the cold, dark waters of Gloucester, MA or the comfortable chill of a Malibu dip. The South China Sea was amazing in color and temperature. A fairly clear aqua-green, it rolled onto the clear, sandy shore where small pieces of shells and rock lined the shallow waters.

Within no time, a bucket of beers was plunked between us, our iPods took turns in my JBL speaker (hooray for AAA batteries), and the equatorial sun was burning us, regardless of how many sublock application breaks we took (clearly not enough). My camera hopped into its waterproof case and we did more frolicking. I even rented a snorkel and fins and saw that I was swimming over live coral, tropical fish, and spiky sea urchins. Damn it felt good to be a gangsta (on vacation).

Hannah deserted us for scuba diving (not too costly a hobby when it takes place in Malaysia). And we wandered the "block" back to the hotel for lunch. We made a friend from Switzerland whose tales of six weeks' worth of required vacations a year made our mouths contort into ovals of surprise as our eyebrows knit together with jealousy. Post-dinner, Hannah and I took a sundown dip (after being warned of dusk's scorpion fish). We hung out, then hit the hay early. Our rooms even had AC. We felt so pampered.

Another early morning. We rocked a 7:00am complimentary breakfast of fried noodles, heart-shaped chicken nuggest and toast with jam. Then we strolled into the office to book a jeep to the other side of Tioman to visit the village of Juara (don't use a Spanish accent. The J is pronounced: Joo-ah-ra).Hannah stayed on in Tekek for another morning of scuba diving and we hauled her pack to Juara so that, later that afternoon, she could take the 7km jungle hike a little more comfortably to meet us.

"Where are you staying?" our driver asked as we approached Juara.

"Riverview," I I told him and within a minute, we were pulling in.

The sign at the entrance read "Private" and a boat was propped beneath the trees as a decoration. Small, quaint, ADORABLE, chalets stood, congregated together. Behind them was a confluence of two rivers and ahead lay the ocean. "Hello, gorgeous" I said to the beach, instead of to my own reflection. We were greeted in the office by Mike, the temporary caretaker while John was out of town.

He was a super nice fellow. Gave us the tour, set us up with some blankets and moquito repelling devices, which he assured us weren't actually necessary, and threw some day's suggestions our way. And boom. There we were in paradise. We wandered around the short palm trees that stood between the Riverview chalets and then plunked down on an even prettier beach.

Rather than kerplopping down on this even more beautiful beach, we decided to use our morning energy to head to the far end of the bay where, Mike had informed us, there was a trail through the jungle to a waterfall. We decided to take the little nature walk--what Liz would later refer to as "the forced march." That isn't very accurate, though. She was completely into the idea, and even enjoyed herself in the jungle until she got leeched. The milk trek was beautifully shady (jungle, after all). Fruit bats whirred around the trees making figure-eight patterns around us. We may or may not have occasionally ducked and shrieked. We got stabbed with spikily-barked palms (Liz worse than Sadira and I). We saw huge-trunked trees with curving inlets at their trunks' bases, a monitor lizard, fluttering butterflies of blue, purple, orange, white and black, and buckets afixed to the trees to collect what we guessed was rubber in its rawest form. In the dried riverbed a small piece of paper was lying snug under a rock beside a small rock pile. It was a note with some handy directions signed Richard. We had not met a Richard, but loved his rock piles and sand arrows which guided us when the path was less marked. We could hear the waterfall throughout most of the walk as we kept doubling back toward it as we climbed the small mountain. Then the sound intensified as we scurried down a small hill to find three folks swimming in the pool at its base. The father photographed his daughters as they splashed and we ditched our packs and stripped down to our swimsuits to get into that water!

The entire island of Tioman gets its water fresh from the jungle streams. Every tap is drinkable. While we didn't drink from the waterfall as we swam (or I didn't, at least), it was incredibly cool and just the thing we needed after scaling small rock valleys and using the trail's rope railing to pull ourselves up to this beautiful place. Among the rocks were giant toads and bright green frogs. The pool below was shaded, but we climbed up to some sunny rocks to warm up before jumping in again.

After fulfilling our waterfall adventure, we had to walk the hour and fifteen minutes back down. Luckily, there was a magnificent beach waiting for us. We made a couple of wrong turns and ad to go back to find the correct rail markers. At one point we stopped to tie our shoes and that's when Liz noticed her socks were wet...with blood. A tiny leech was sliming around by her ankle and had not sunk in too deep yet as she was able to yank him off right then and there. As her beaten up chucks got bloodified, she was very proud of herself for not breaking down in tears in the middle of the trail. The forced march ended and we were back in the sun on the concrete path.

At the foot of the waterfall trail sits The Juara Turtle project: a nice, open-air building where Tom and Charlie hang out in between hatchery visits, egg collections, in-town trips, and gardening. We said hello to a volunteer and met Jo, the green turtle, before heading back to town for a very late lunch, where even the flies irked Liz to no end.

The meal was sadly average. We decided it was time to hit the sand and water. Sauntering with full bellies, we enjoyed the tall palms that lined the road. Soon we were back at Riverview's adorable neighborhood grabbing our towels and sunblock.Juara beach has gloriously soft sand. Tekek had shells and rocks and coral in its shallows. Here, though, the sand was smooth as we stepped into the light aqua water. As it was a bit windy, the water was choppy and the visibility wasn't all that wonderful in terms of snorkeling. But we didn't snorkel or scuba. We sat. We soaked up the sun. We vacationed. Ahhhh.

Hannah was due to come out the Juara side of the jungle at any time now. After lounging and swimming, and a double take mistake at a woman wearing a white skirt (would never be Hannah), H finally made her way onto the sand and directly into the water. We jumped around in some small waves before rinsing off and taking a nap.

It was as if the sountrack pulled us from our bed. Sadira and Liz were kicking back with some red wine and watching Indiana Jones (the newest installment) in the common room. We joined the hang out sesh. Tom and Charlie from the turtle project came down to meet us, too (they'd been out during our earlier stop-in). We had planned to do some volunteer work with them the following day. We hung out a bit and chatted our chats. Hannah apologized for not making a video project for them after their first contact (last year). She had brought her camera this time to make up for it. We parted ways after another man came in and recognized me and Hannah (!). From the ferry? Hannah suggested. But he had been on death hike with us just outside of Seoul. That ten hour monster in Samcheok. Small world.

We hungered, so we set off for Tomyam soup--effing delish--after which we made our way to the Coconut Bar: the most amazing treehouse ever, essentially. You had to climb a ladder and some steps to get into the bar, with its string-lights and scuba masks, chains and flags all hanging about the open-air windows under the thatched roof. A husband and wife built it themselves with wood they salvaged from their very own jungle. Tom and Charlie came down for drinks, too, and some other folks we'd met, and new people still. A German gaggle sang a German song to Kibby for his belated birthday and we tried to play a drinking game. It sort of worked.

Next day Liz and Sadira beached while Hannah and I went to The Juara Turtle Project for our measley day of volunteering. Mostly we took photos and video. We started by petting some cats, and watched as they fed Jo. I helped sweep, rake and water the garden. Liz stopped by later that day to take a look around.

My most turtle-involved moment was petting Jo the turtle (my she loved it!). After directions and a demonstration, I excavated a couple of old turtle nests (to help release the bacteria from the nest site and remove the shells). We were let off early to enjoy our last afternoon on the island. Hannah and I took the opportunity to rent kayaks and enjoyed a wonderful evening paddling through the immensely GREEN surroundings (though, sadly, we did not see any sleeping pythons hanging from tree branches. Evidently they exist along the river. Maybe we just weren't looking hard enough). Palm leaves sagged down by the water and little MUDFISH flopped around as I let my kayak slide up on the shore to take some photos. It was like I was watching a little part of evolution.

We definitely got one more beer at the Coconut Bar that night before retiring. It was another early morning, a 4x4 to the airport, and a two-hour prop plane ride to Kuala Lumpur where we dumped our bags at a third hostel and embarked on our journey to the tatoo parlor.

We accompanied Sadira to a tattoo shop. The artist did a sketch based on Sadira's original sketch and we were off to eat some Malay lunch. We came back to a lovely colorful phoenixy woman which Sadira sat down to have drilled into her thigh, which meant we made our way to the Kuala Lumpur Bird Park, the largest open-air aviary in the world.

We saw horn-bills, peahens, eagles, fluffy-haired pigeons, flamingos, owls, parrots, etc. Best of all was the monkeys. They were so kind and gentle and kept to their business as we kept to ours. I fell in love with a mama monkey and her baby. Liz and Hannah had to drag me away after my hundreth or so photo was shot.

We met up with Sadira back at the hostel, admired her lovely lady, and tried to find a lesbian bar. A little tricky in KL, we found out, as the 2007 guide book pointed us to something that had long been closed, it seemed. We kicked back with some tigers at the 69 Bistro, where our servers, I'd bet, were family (but not chatty with us). It was just blocks away from our hostel, where we went back for the night.

Next morning, after some complimentary cereal and toast, we finally made it to the Batu Caves.

Before you can even see the caves, you are greeted with the largest Murugan statue in the world (measuring in at 140.09 ft / 42.7m). That bad boy of a deity is rocking 300 liters of gold paint on his exterior (no big deal). A larger attraction than Lord Murugan, perhaps, were the monkeys. They run amok (amok-amok-amok <--that part is for Sue) stealing tourists' belongings. We witnessed the theft of a souvenir photo, a water bottle, a banana from a plastic bag, and a scarf from around a woman's neck. The scarf was the worst to watch. As scarves are wrapped around one's neck, they can become quite taut when a fiesty monkey starts yanking and running. People laughed, but I was horrified and frightened. Who know those cute little guys could be such ASSHOLES? Ah yes, Batu Caves: where you haul your tuchus up a mere 272 steps of monkeys and B.O. until you are standing in a cathedral-like cave, which is appropriately named Cathedral Cave (but I didn't know that until after I wrote the description, then looked it up). It was worth it. The ceilings were incredibly high and light shone through in streams from above. The caves house more than one Hindu temple. There are many shrines as well. Roosters were crowing inside one of the caves and monkeys were hauling their collected goods up a mountain behind the third cave. On the way down I admittedly hopped the railing back and forth into the other sets of stairs to escape the path of monkeys. This didn't tend to work out too well as macaques are better and faster climbers than I. If they wanted to mess with me, they certainly could have. I got away safe, but Hannah received a startling, toothy growl near the bottom when she made eye contact with one. Just behind her, I was sure he'd leap onto her shoulders and start pulling her hair. Instead, she backed quickly into an Indian family, just on the third step of their climb. Apologies were exchanged and we were ready for lunch. Cheap, delicious Indian food. Yummmm. Sadira shopped the Berjaya Times Square shopping mall. Liz shopped and museumed. Hannah and I had an hour long foot massage after our mall wandering. Good times all around. Next thing you know we were freaking out about our flight's non-existence (corrected with a phone call. Boo internet lies), then chomping down some more Indian food before hailing a cab to the airport. The cab ride was right up there with memorable moments from the trip. The driver let us play Liz's Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack and we danced mightily to the blasting tracks--Paper Planes and Jai Ho, in particular. So we went ahead and played those each twice. The driver jammed out a little, but mostly laughed at us. Then we were giggling in KL's beautiful airport, ready to take the journey home. Hours later were were taking buses back to our respective Seoul neighborhoods and relaxing before heading back to school and to our kids the next morning. Thanks, Malaysia! Hannah and I are already imagining a month-long voluntourism stint with the turtle project once we finish up our contracts in Korea. :)

The Alphabet & (Assonance Adoring) Adventures Abroad

2009-07-25T00:34:00.004+09:00

As of late, the larger of the two guppies who swims 'round a bowl in our "living room/office/spare bedroom" seemed even larger. Her plump belly told us she'd been knocked up.

We checked each day for little baby fishies but there were none until today. I counted twenty-six little dudes and dudettes (who are obviously named a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, l, m, n, o, p, q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, and z). Last time we saw nine babes and they weren't there a few hours later (oops). This time we separated momma straight away. Unfortunately, mum was put into her bowl with the water a teensy bit high. We found her rather dry on the floor on the other side of the room hours later. Oops. Suicide hurts everyone.

Well, we're leaving in the morning (actually leaving our house in five hours to get the bus to the airport) for Malaysia. Denise gets to watch twenty-seven fish instead of two. (Thanks).

YES, I did say Malaysia. With our ONE week of summer vacation, we are indeed VACATIONING. We fly into Kuala Lumpur and then bump over to Tioman Island. Rain is due the first two days, but much fun is planned including Batu Caves, Masjid Jamek Mosque, Merchants of Bollywood show, Little India and Chinatown. Later we'll snorkel and beach and hook up with the Juara Turtle Project for a day of volunteering.

Pictures and tales to come in a couple weeks. For now, enjoy these:

Hannah loving on a very large tree next to the Canadian Embassy.

Korea's hammering man (72 feet of brawn--the biggest in the world).

Field trip to Outback Steakhouse. You can't get much more adorable than kids in chef's hats.

Science Friday: 1

2009-07-19T16:18:00.004+09:00

The Contents of a Diaper

The title of this week's experiment had me a bit worried. The last thing I want to do on a Friday afternoon is dive into an in depth exploration of THAT. How diapers absorb, it turns out, was more along the lines of the experiment's goal.

The kids were all very excited to watch a powder resin absorb tons and tons of water (aka a Dixie cup full). Here's a video of what it looked like (no kids in it this time. Just their voices).

Science Friday

2009-07-14T19:31:00.002+09:00

So my children LOVE science time. Each Friday we plow through our books in the morning in order to have time for science in the afternoon. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday AND Friday, my kids ask, "Teacher Michelle...science today?" as if they don't know the schedule that's been in place for four months.

I've decided to show you a little taste of science with four- and five-year-olds. Hopefully it will be up and ready on, let's say, Friday.

Happy Independence Day

2009-07-04T22:35:00.005+09:00

Today is a day that reminds me of barbecues, parades, the beach, the Boston Orchestra, fireworks, beers, Cape Cod. Family and friends are fresh in my brain. I remember the story of my sister and I on the lake in New Hampshire--the story where I, after every firework, say: "It go bang," while I shake my little three-year-old fist in the night air.

I don't think of uber-patriotic, country music blasting, "America is the best country ever" people. I think of MY people. I miss you people.

While I disagree with many things that my country represents, I do appreciate that it was founded on freedoms. And I appreciate what it means to fight a war in order not to be ruled by some King an ocean away. And to want to let people live their lives the way they want to. Believe in what they want to believe in. That all sounds dandy. I never feel so American as when I'm outside of America and must identify myself as such when folks ask questions.

But how does one celebrate one of two truly American holidays while living the life of an expat?

Answer: with Soju Surprise, friends, and fireworks.
We hollowed out a watermelon, poured in soju, watermelon innards, freshly squeezed orange juice, diced oranges, halved grapes, grape soda, white grape soda and more soju. Think sangria but even more delightful with a Korean twist (SOJU!).

We feasted on this fruit-filled drink then took to the rooftop for a very short fireworks display. We each lit a sparkler or two, and 15 shooty-uppy things came out of a tube that we'd lit on fire.

Then we quickly became afraid of all the noise we'd made and hurried inside.

Happy Fourth of July!

(And Happy Birthday, Julie ).

Aquarium

2009-06-27T18:34:00.001+09:00

Aquarium, originally uploaded by mlkozlowski.
So, we took the kindergartners on a little field trip to the COEX Aquarium, just a few miles from school. We got to walk around for an hour and a half or so and check out this elaborate aquarium (with many more animals than just fish!)

Though animals in captivity are questionable (or rather, the humans that put them there are?), the kids sure did have fun, well, until they got tired and wanted to leave.

More photos here and a video here (or below):

Summer Arrives

2009-06-26T07:55:00.000+09:00

The bites have begun already. This is always a sure way to identify the onslaught of summer. Or of bugs. But these marks I'm unfamiliar with. They are small and red, round and raised slightly. Deformed beauty marks of a sort. Not pea-sized, flat pink hills like mosquito bites. Please, I could spot a mosquito bite anywhere on anyone from meters away. Massachusetts swarms with their makers. But I'm not in Massachusetts. I'm in Seoul, where I don't understand the language and don't understand the insect life.

Are these things living in my apartment? Probably. They can't be nearly as scary as the darting black monsters that roamed the rocky beach shore of Deokjeok Island. Are they just fleas? Where are they coming from? AHH!!! Please, creatures. Don't make your home in my home. You truly ruin the homey vibe.

I guess I will just hope they go away. If new bites appear, I will find the source and deal with it. Luckily it doesn't look like bed bugs. Happy summer!

Today's weather: Clear with a high of 82 degrees. (It will dip into the 60s at night).

Vending Machines

2009-06-25T18:45:00.000+09:00

"Where the connies at?"

Do cartoons make something look more trustworthy? These are available in most subway stations. Just in case you can't get to a convenience store.

A Note on Transportation

2009-06-25T06:14:00.000+09:00

You can't see the mirror from the backseat, so let's all just hope this doesn't happen when you open the door. If it does, there will be a lot of dropped jaws and several minutes of screaming. Not fun for anyone (except maybe a passerby cartoonist?)

The Penis Park

2009-06-24T22:01:00.000+09:00

So, I realized that the photos I mentioned in my Samcheok hiking blog hadn't made it up yet. Here we go. Refresher: There was a penis park. Yes, that's correct: a park full of penises. So we couldn't really stay on the bus for THAT. Plus, it was only about $2 to enter. (That's what she said.)

Oh yeah. And there was a gorgeous landscape there, too.
A very pleasurable time was had by all.

Bubble Girl

2009-06-24T07:20:00.000+09:00

I should be writing something about something. But who can think at a time like this? A time when I should be reading the news regarding North Korea and its newest threat of missile launches—a time when I should know more about what’s happening in Tehran or in California. I’m so behind on the life of the world and have no one to blame but myself.

I am in a bubble and like it more than Seinfeld’s Bubble Boy. While I have no people to take advantage of and to make pity me, I am in a position of privilege. I’m just one of many expats teaching English in Seoul. The wage is good. Life is relatively easy. I do what I want to, when I want to (aside from those mandatory teaching hours). I go around happy not to understand the chatter around me, as I still don’t know more Korean than I need to order food and give a taxi driver directions. The bubble is certainly penetrable, though. People forward me links about the newest martyr in Iran, about how the US is protecting itself against Kim Jong-Il and his son. But I’m a kindergarten teacher. I’ve got phonics on the mind and am thinking up which animals we should learn tomorrow. This is what has become important to me.

Wow. Maybe “important” was a poor word choice. This is my life right now. And it is important that I do my job, and teach these kiddies. Other things certainly keep a strong hold on their place in my thoughts. But I feel like I’m not really DOING anything. Where has my drive for activism gone? Not out the window, but I suppose it’s on the back burner while I am taking weekend trips to hike mountains, swim seas, and explore caves.

Is that so bad? No, it’s not horrible. But I should really keep informed. Believe it or not, I am on the computer less here than I have been in a LONG time. Maybe since I first had a computer, in high school (and yet I still manage to check my email nearly every day, unless I’m away for the weekend, which is a time, in the states, I was still certain to find a way to get online).

Going home for a quiet evening in isn’t my usual deal here. I am out five or six days a week. Even when I stay in my neighborhood, I might pop out for shopping, a smoothie, a run, dinner. That means less and less time at a screen and more socializing with my friends. How can that be a bad thing?

My community of friends here is a solid one. Just last weekend, seven of us from work went to DeokJeokDo, an island an hour-and-fifteen-minute ferry ride from Incheon. When is the last time I even got along with seven coworkers? Never mind traveling and staying together in two rooms. (Okay, I guess that happened at Eastern and we did travel to AWP and to Wallace, ID and to Troy, MT). What’s a gal to do? Stay home on lemonde.com or CNN or BBC? It’s summer now. There are barbecues to be had, beaches to dig out sand sofas on, festivals to enjoy.

It’s hard to WANT to find time to read the news. But please, send things my way. And perhaps I will commit to trying to read one article each time I sit down at the computer. Before e-mailing or picture editing, or tweeting or facebooking, or updating my goodreads page with the newest children’s book I read today. Yes, let’s make time for the news.

Hannah and Michelle discover hairspray.

2009-06-15T21:37:00.000+09:00

The Weekend of Potential Death.

2009-06-08T10:38:00.000+09:00

Hannah and I signed up for a hiking trip in Samcheok. The mighty Dutasan (Duta Mountain) was ours to conquer. (Or was it?)

We went with a travel group from Meetup(.com). We had used meetup before with great success. Our friend (and coworker), Denise, told us about the trip and we were all (6 in total) excited about the mountain, the beach, and the caves. The need for exploration was upon us. Plus, it was only W55,000 (think $55) for the roundtrip busfare and one night in the motel. Not a bad price to pay to escape the city for a weekend.

Two days before the bus was to leave, the itinerary was updated with a trip to the Penis Park and a "WARNING: These mountains cannot be taken lightly. Few sign posts and no cell signal! Since group is so big we cannot care for all. You are responsible for your own safety!" AKA: You might die; good luck.

They warned of the hike being long and difficult. One must be FIT to complete it. Well, the six of us who knew each other were not "in shape" for hiking, but I am generally athletic and can walk for a long time. I figured I should be able, right? WRONG! (Oh, English 101 students...you were great).
We took the bus from Seoul at midnight and arrived somewhere mountainside at 4:45am. We hauled our lazy, barely-slept buns off the bus and into the mist and fog. We started eating muffins and scraping together tuna or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to bring along.

It was a rough trail. I mean...no gentle incline, it was just UP. So up we went. Within the first half hour my legs were wondering what my brain had gotten them into.

It was so foggy that from the top (yes, we made it to the top). you saw nothing but a rocky cliff leading down into, well nothing but an eerie white abyss. We were at the edge of the world with our PB&Js, Mom's Mix (trailmix), and sliced veggies. It felt good. But it had been FIVE HOURS already. And we still had to go down!
The way down is always harder. Those steep rocky "steps" on the way up were taxing on the quads and the calves, but down? I had to crab walk the larger leaps. Oh yeah, and it was raining all day. It was chilly if you weren't moving (which wasn't that often anyway). We were damp and sweaty and our muscles ached.

Our wobbly legs were sketchy to say the least. Don't worry, I didn't break my leg. I didn't even twist my ankle. I was just worried with every step down the loose rock trail that I might slip and die. "Ahhh death," was coming out of my mouth every minute and a half (for the five hours down).

Yes, that's right. We hiked for ten hours on an hour or so of scattered bus sleep. In the rain. Up Dutasan. What the hell?
We even took the "short" route. Other people went the long way around, but we were all set with that idea.

What did I learn from all this? 1. The human body is capable of amazing things. 2. Never sign up for a trip where you hike immediately after the bus ride. Not okay. 3. I'm amazing. (Well, I already knew that).
Then we headed back to the motel which was on the beach (we were the first row...the only row of places on the beach. From our window we could see the sunrise. We didn't wake up for it, but we could see the rolling waves and long stretch of sand when we did roll awake around 8:25am.
The night before (after the hike of doom), we came back and ate some yummy barbeque on the beach. Hannah and I opted for the BBQ clams and Denise, Ginger, Ally and Ellen went for Samgyupsal (Pork BBQ). We each had a big bottle of beer, went back to the room and passed the F out at 10pm.

Next morning we had breakfast in the sand by the water and then got on the bus at 10am for the penis park adventure. I'll just let the pictures do the talking.

Then it was off to the caves. These huge, amazing, brilliant lime caves (which we had to hike 1.3 km UP THE MOUNTAIN to see--on our poor, weakened legs). I have been in a pretty big cave before, but this was gigantic. And we only saw 3 of the 18km worth. (!!!).All and all a very great sense of accomplishment was achieved by the weekend's end.

More photos.

Dr. Fish

2009-05-29T16:31:00.000+09:00

Denise, Hannah and I went to a Gangnam coffee shop--a wide sprawling of tables with pink and purple upholstered chairs at their sides. There were velvety looking booths, too. The place was complete with free wifi, at least four community laptops on which to surf it, a free (with purchase) self-bar stocked with crackers, three kinds of bread, toasters, jam, margarine, drip coffee and flower tea. We each got a drink (strawberry smoothie for Denise, mango juice for Hannah, and pomegranate juice for me--bonus for the come-with self-bar, double bonus for the peanut butter and honey I had in my bag from lunch).

Drinks ran in the W5-6,000 range (think $5-6). Denise and I paid an additional W2,000 to enjoy the foot spa: aka to succomb to tiny bottom dweller fish originally from Turkey. "What the hell?" you say? Yes, these small critters are called Dr. Fish. They provide a valuable medical treatment: they feast on the dead skin of your feet.

And we willingly paid them to do just that.

With rumors and firsthand accounts of shiny, smooth tootsies, this is the reason we sought out this particular coffee shop (our first attempt landed us in a grand, multi-level coffeee space where the fish had been discontinued, cancelled, NO, ::giant Korean crossing of the arms::). At the end of the feeding frenzy, my feet were definitely smoother, but by no means babies' bottoms. More worth it than the result was the experience of letting small fish munch on my heels, toes, ankles, arches, shins, etc.

I don't consider myself ticklish, but this was not one person's five or ten fingers, a feather, or an ant. This was dozens--let me say that again: DOZENS--of gara ruffa fish masticating...well, ME! My gosh, it was tickly.

See the video evidence here or below.

You want to try it out in Washington? Click here for details.

Heavenly Commutes

2009-05-29T00:15:00.000+09:00

Have I mentioned how many people live in Seoul? Close to 10.5 million (metropolitan city).

How big is Seoul, you ask? 283 sq miles (metropolitan city). Where are my facts from? Wikipedia.org

Anyway, rush hour takes place during a special time called Any Time of Day. 8am? Sure, that's predictable. 4pm, 5pm, 6pm, 9pm, 11pm. Yes, repeatedly yes. Saturdays? Yes. And there are a heck of a lot of people involved.

On occasion, there are seats on certain lines and the ride is comfortable. Other times the ride is bearable. Others still, it is near impossible. You have to pry yourself into the car, use the door for leverage as you launch into the crowd of angry, sweaty, tired, standing people. Where there is no room, more people enter. You feel the "bubble" you wish you had pop and pop and pop.

Fun? The first time maybe. Ha. Ha. Awkward crowded subway full of strangers whose language I don't speak (but can read). Sorry if it seems like I'm groping you, but I really can't find another place to put my hand. Ew, sir. Please back your sweaty back off of mine. Oh right, we can't move and I'm touching all six of the sweaty sirs surrounding me. In fact, I couldn't fall over if I tried. I could pick my feet up and stay in the same place.

But wait: there is salvation from this metro car full strangers in the form of a little device called the iPod. Yes, my glorious, glorious iPod. I purchased this iPod over a year ago, but it has rarely come in handy. I mean, it's been lovely to plug into a stereo and blast at home, or to take out to listen to on a long bus ride. But now, it's HANDY. I never really used it on my commute from Spokane to Cheney. I read, or chatted or eavesdropped. Here, though--my 25 minute cram-session each morning flies by with Hall and Oates, Tracy Chapman, The Beatles, Tegan and Sarah--whoever comes up in shuffle mode. I have over 70GB of music. (I could listen to my music for 39 days straight and not hear the same thing twice).

I can just close my eyes, sway with the crowd that has become one large body of (sometimes sweaty) water. We move with each other in a rhythmic, unpredictable pattern. We approach my stop. Here comes the sun, do-n-do-do. Yes, I think I can commute every day. Even though, sometimes, it's a bitch, girl...

Teacher's Day Gift Exchange: The Tale of Jewels

2009-05-28T23:30:00.000+09:00

Those delightfully princessian crown earrings (see below post) and I took a trip back to the counter from whence they from came. They go for W129,000 (think: $129). Thanks, students' parents for shopping at J. Estina: the land of crown. That's their thing, their statement, their bling of choice (p.s. why is spell check upset about bling?).

Wallets, barrets, earrings, necklaces, bracelets: crowns, crowns, crowns (crowns, crowns). There were a couple of lost cats in the mix. I mean, don't get me wrong, they are nice pieces of designer jewelry--fanciful for the princess-type, which I am not. Nope, not at all. It was a pity to have such a nice gift that I didn't want hanging beside my face. ::Sadness::

Though there was a bracelet that ran for the exact same price as the earrings, it was full of dangling crowns of different shades of gold and jewels. It was an unfortunate scene. I did, however, find a lovely necklace. I think it was the only crownless piece there (and there is still a hidden crown). I think it still says royalty, though. :) It was a bit more pricey than the earrings, so I had to cough up some extra dough. "I'm worth it" I told myself. And that is how I got my first expensive piece of jewelry ever (aside from a ring willed to me when I was seven years old). It's chain is so sparkly (14K white gold), and it has a CZ in the center...a round cut. It'll make an appearance in a photo soon enough. Anyway, I love it. Thanks for paying for more than half of it, parents. :)

Teachers' Day

2009-05-16T16:49:00.000+09:00

May 15th is Teachers' Day in Korea. What does this mean for me, a teacher in Korea?

Well, it means that I receive adorable cards and notes from students AND that I get showered with gifts. Gifts for teachers range from a carnation to a W200,000 (think $200) gift certificate to a department store.

I received no schmancy gift certificates (though my colleagues did!). I did get pin cushions (right?), hand creme, lip glosses (L'Occitane, Dior and Chanel), flowers, earrings (two pairs), a t-shirt (Pippi Longstocking--weird), a rock, and tasty treats. Well, they look tasty. They've yet to be tasted.

Wow. Happy Teachers' Day to teachers everywhere!

P.S. Should I try to return these earrings? It's just not a realistic wear for me...

SOT Mini-Olympics

2009-05-12T22:25:00.000+09:00

Our school is pretty wonderful. We don't just teach English, we have Gym, ORFF, Art, Orda, and Science. We had a spring planting day where, after learning the English names for a number of flowers, the kids planted seeds in pots to take home.

We have curriculum books that include math and patterns, reading and letters, phonics, opposites, go-togethers, shapes, colors, etc. It's a pretty cool, comprehensive kindergarten curriculum for English-learning. Yes, it's a private school, so it is definitely a business, but they also care about the kids.

We had May 5th off--it was a national holiday--Children's Day! Kids look forward to this like it's their birthday, like it's Christmas, like it's...the best day of the year. It's a day their parents spoil them, take them out, buy them presents, get them ice cream, etc. Children's Day is celebrated to let children know that they are respected and loved and important. Hopefully they will grow up with this respect and confidence and become great leaders.

Anyway, to celebrate our kiddies, we gave them t-shirts and socks and on May 6th, they didn't have class. They had the SOT MINI-OLYMPICS!

We went to the Han River Park and the gym teacher led a bunch of "track and field" events for 4-6 year olds. It was adorable. We broke for lunch, then they got to run around and play before going back to school in the afternoon to draw pictures or write sentences (depending on age) about their day.

Here are some photos:

One team flips the squares to red. The other flips them blue. P.S. Think Globally, Act Locally. That's my kind of kid.

Pretty fun game.

AKA: Utter Chaos

Those are MY tots, ready to run a relay (around a cone and back, then comes the tricky part: the hand off to the next ten tykes).

Tug of WAR. Pull, kids, PULLLLLLLLLL! (We lost).

They're so poised and ready. Gosh, I love them. (Especially when they are Sox fans!)

The sox kid isn't mine, he's Sadira's. Just one of the reasons I love her.

The Little Travelers

2009-05-03T22:57:00.000+09:00

The Little Travelers raise money for HIV/AIDS victims and their families in South Africa. The organization first came to Korea in 2007.

100 people create these little dolls: The Little Travelers. The dolls travel to different parts of the world, like Korea, where they are bought--the money is sent back to South Africa. Yesterday we took part in the LT photo scavenger hunt (W15,000 to enter).

We had to dash around Seoul getting photos of our Little Travelers in different locations, with different people, etc.

Here's Thembi in front of a palace:

and Thandi riding the subway:
with the statue of Admiral Yi Sun Shin:
This was our photo for an LT party "gone wrong."

And this is when we made it back to Mike's Cabin for pizza and beer after the big race. We came in 7th of 16 teams. Lame. But the event was great fun and for a good cause. :)

Two Month Marker

2009-05-03T22:05:00.000+09:00

I've been in Seoul for just over two months. What do I make of this mystical Asian land, you ask?

Well, it's like any other land, really. It's one giant city with anything you could want (though if what you want is something like cheese, you will pay through the nose for it). While Portland certainly wins in terms of a local, organic food scene, you can still easily eat vegetarian here if that's your thing. I gave it up in favor of Korean barbecue, and I'm willing to stick to that decision at present. A huge part of a culture is its food, so I figured I couldn't really say no to chicken or steak or octopus or peanut butter squid (all delicious).

But Seoul is like any international city...only the signs are often in Korean, which was tricky at first. But now I can read Korean! Which is quite helpful, even when I don't always know what I'm saying.

What can I do here when I'm not scolding four- and five-year-olds for picking their noses? For starters, when I want to escape the city-esque feel so prominent in most urban areas, I can take the subway two stops (or a bus 10 minutes) and walk up/around Gwanaksan (Gwanak Mountain) like I did today (and it was lovely).

I can drink soju or hof until 6am while I inhale the secondhand smoke of the cigarette squad that is late-night Korea in a tiny hole of a bar, or in a small dance mecca of lesbians (The Pink Hole is a good choice for the latter).

I can buy a beer or a soda at the Family Mart and pick a spot by the ginko trees in the graffiti park in Hongdae and listen to Soundbox bust a move in the spring evening air. Then start a dance movement for them. (They even paused in the middle of a "Hey Jude" rendition to ask my friends and I where we were from.)
Even the babies stay out until 1:00am for free outdoor music.

I can head over to the Han River and hop in a swan paddle boat. We equipped ours with Pringles, orange soda, a frosty-like oreo-vanilla ice cream shake drink, and some red wine.

I can go walking among the cherry blossoms in Yeuido or the azaleas at Gwanak--whatever is blooming.

What can I say? I love this place. It has what I like. I like what it has. Why haven't you visited yet?

The Seoul Metro System

2009-04-19T13:42:00.001+09:00

Public transportation in Seoul is wonderful. It does stop service at midnight, which I find preposterous as bars don't close (ever) and people are regularly out until 6am. I suppose the subway does reopen at 5am, so late-nighters can get home, but what about us reasonable folks who want to pack it in at 1 or 2 or 3am? Okay...tangent. Let me get back on track.

What I mean to say is that the system is extensive. You can get anywhere you need to go by subway. You can get to the suburbs, the airport, anywhere in the city (plus walking a bit when you exit). Because public transit is so wonderful, everyone uses it. In all this jammed up hustle and bustle (because it IS very, very crowded, especially during rush hours), one can sometimes forget one's belongings. Especially when one is busy watching The Changeling with one's partner on one's partner's iPod Touch when she suddenly realizes that she is at her transfer station and jets off the subway car. And as one does this, she feels a lot lighter...and then, in an instant, recalls the stowing of her backpack on the overhead shelf. Then one feels very, very heavy with sadness. Yes, that someone was me. I was that woman.

I darted back up the stairs to see my train rolling away with my bag inside it. My bag with my camera, my four lenses, my wallet, my cash, my Alien Registration card, my bankbook & check card, my notebook, my moleskin, my iPod (at least $3,000 of replacing, more if my bankcard was used). I involuntarily began to cry and to loathe myself. Then, as the next train rolled in, I jotted its number down and proceeded to the service station to try to tell them in Konglish charades about the incident. I called my Korean friend, Jay, to ask for help and handed the phone back and forth with the Subway Service Station employee to translate things like "describe the bag" and "what car number were you in." I didn't remember what subway car I was in, except that I was closer to the front than the back. We went back up to the platform so that I could point out where I remember exiting so that he could find the proper train car.

I sat in the service station, no longer interested in The Changeling and waited. And waited. Hoping they'd tell me something I could do. Thirty minutes later the dude came over to me telling me to go to a different service station. This was in Korean and I was a little confused until I realized what had happened. They found my bag. No one had touched it. Nothing was missing. It was just sitting, lonely-like, on the overhead shelf. An employee got on the train, went to the car I was in, found it on the shelf and brought it in for reclaiming.

The Seoul Metro System is amaaaaaaazing. I did NOT expect them to find it. I expected theft. But, as it turns out, people are amazing. And kind. And I never want to take my bag off again. Gosh, I'm so lucky. And stupid. And incredibly relieved.

Happy Birthday, Hannah

2009-04-08T22:15:00.000+09:00

It was a lovely day, cool, but not cold. Off to Lotte World we went.

Hannah had a great time...

We merry-go-rounded.
Enjoyed the darling Korean graffiti.
Considered using the toilets for children.
And we gyro dropped. Heck yes.
All in all, a wonderful day for Ms. 27-year-old (28, Korean age).

The Gyro Drop

2009-04-08T08:57:00.000+09:00

Lotte World, March 31st

Teaching Kindergarten.

2009-03-29T11:58:00.000+09:00

Okay. So I'm a kindergarten teacher.

What does this mean exactly? Well, for starters, I use small words, repeat myself often and smile. And smile.

Even with all the smiling, kids cry. My fourteen students were all born in 2004, so they are little babies! Two have already turned five and the rest will turn five this year. (But some JUST turned four in October, November, December! So tiny!) It's their first time away from their parents and they don't speak or understand English, so I can understand the scariness factor. Especially with me (some stranger of a white woman) at the front of the classroom singing "The Hello Song" while waving and jumping around. Yikes.

But it's okay. Now they wave and jump around, too. We've had three full weeks of class and they are ALREADY improving so much. Kids learn so quickly; it's amazing to watch. One girl didn't speak at all the first two weeks (except maybe in a Korean whisper to her classmate). She wouldn't even say "hello" or "here I am" during attendance. This week she has been busting out with answers and saying "Teacher, I'm finished!" when she completes a row of JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJs or jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjs. All I have to say is Woooohhhh. (Wow, but in Korean).

Each morning, the children arrive at 9:30am. They are with me until 2:15pm. We have several books they learn from--Math and Patterns, Main Curriculum, Ready to Read, Phonics. We also do science, art and ORDA (helps them with motor skills, recognizing patterns, shapes, different perspectives, etc.). And the kids have special classes three times a week: ORFF (a German-style of learning that incorporates music and movement), Gym, and Musical English.

AKA I get thirty-minute breaks those days since they have another teacher). I also get a thirty-minute break during lunch each day when my classroom assistant, Helena, serves the kids food. When I come back after lunch I get to watch them play in the classroom. It's basically a break.

Helena is amazing. She doesn't speak English, but she understands a little. She made name tags for the kids' cubbies, loads up their backpacks on Fridays when we send their indoor shoes and toothbrushes home, and gives me a hand prepping things for science, art and ORDA. She is also all over any photocopies I need, etc.

The kids get fifteen minutes of playground time on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. (When it's raining or when the yellow dust levels are high, they play in the gym or in the classroom).

These kids LOVE the playground! LOVE IT.

But then, there's elementary school.

Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I teach a class from 2:35-3:25, 3:35-4:25, 4:35-5:25 and 5:35-6:25. The last two blocks I have the same group of kids and they are pretty smart. The first two, it's a little more strenuous. A couple kids do not really speak or understand English. They are seven or eight years old. Plus, these kids have been in elementary school all day, then their parents pay for them to come to our hagwan for additional English learning. Some kids bounce from hagwan to hagwan (English, Math, Korean) and are in school until 9:00pm! It's crazy. Poor little buggers.

On Tuesday I am OUT at 2:15, which is great. And Thursdays I teach from 2:30-4:00pm. It's a reading class. So each week we read a new book (it's a series) and the students fill out worksheets about it. Good times.

I know my kindergarten kids better since I see them all day every day. But all the kids are pretty damn cute. Let's just say that I'm diggin' it.

What Does the Seoul Metro Have to Say?

2009-03-29T11:42:00.000+09:00

"Ladies, we hate purses that are pink or that contain hearts. We eat them for breakfast. So tuck that baggage under your arm and move into the crowded train."

"Men, you are no exception. Keep your murse to yourself or it's MINE."

How Did We Get Here? (How the hell...?)

2009-03-28T23:36:00.000+09:00

So it all started as a joke.

The lack of jobs in Portland, OR, USA led to applications overseas. And, whaddyaknow? Job offers.

Hannah and I thought hard for a couple weeks, got all our shit together (fingerprints, criminal background checks, apostilles for our university diplomas, etc.), and accepted jobs in Seoul, South Korea.

Six weeks later we were on a plane to Incheon Airport to meet a fellow, who held up a little sign: "Michelle Kozlowski & Hannah Whitmore."

After a week in a hotel, medical exams, meeting the colleagues and recovering from jet lag, we moved into our sweet two-bedroom apartment (paid for by our school) and began our work as kindergarten teachers at a hagwan -- a private institute (in our case, for English).

So now we live in Korea. And make our living here.

Vaginas of Seoul

2009-03-17T21:58:00.001+09:00

I tried out for The Vagina Monologues in Seoul. Booyeah. I'm in it. I introduce "Hair" and "The Woman Who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy." And I made this flyer for it.

I'm Legal

2009-03-12T19:23:00.000+09:00

You heard correctly. I'm a certified alien in the Republic of Korea. How 'bout them apples?Wow, I look sooo scary. I can't believe I teach four-year-olds with that mug.

Aliens...

2009-03-05T18:32:00.000+09:00

After hearing all the horror stories about five- and six-hour waits at immigration, Hannah and I stepped up to the plate to brave it on Tuesday.

But, wait--what's this? Oh yes, we got in and out of there in an HOUR!!! Wowza. Huzzah. Booyeah.(Thanks to someone giving us two lower numbers).

Still, though. We made it through. Now we just need to wait ten days for our Alien Registration cards to arrive. We can't put cell phones in our names or sign up for internet service without them. Wahhhhh.

Schoolin'

2009-03-02T14:13:00.001+09:00

Arrived to SOT (School of Tomorrow) at 10am for lesson planning. Luckily our superviser had prepped everything for us. I checked through my outline and the books to be sure it all matched up. Boom. Did. Done.

Had lunch with some co-workers at a sweet restaurant walking distance from the school. Had some delicious veggie bi bim bab. This is a portion of rice, a cooked egg, and fresh veggies (lots of salad components). You're to mix it all together and add some red chili pepper paste. Yum.

To teach my first class at 2:30pm. It has nine students. Next I have a four-student class, then a seven-student class. How lovely. Wish me luck.

"Organic Spandex Girl on Girl Sandwich Hootenanny"

2009-03-01T21:50:00.000+09:00

This was the title of the first party I attended for my first weekend in Seoul: "Organic Spandex Girl on Girl Sandwich Hootenanny." It was insisted that guests show up in Neon or Mesh or Spandex to enjoy finger sandwiches for a couple of girls' birthdays.

So we did.

Luckily, my suitcase was stocked with many bright colors. Things bright enough that I went ahead and considered them neon. For example: if purple were neon, it would be my tights.

Many a neoned, spandexed, meshed woman and man showed up. And lots of fun was had. (Complete with peanut butter and honey, roasted vegetables, ham and cheese, egg salad, and tuna sandwiches: taster's choice).

House party was followed by a trip to a bar (SoHo) on "Homo Hill." I don't know the actual name of the street, but it's in Itaewon, and it's gay. There was lots of dancing and our neon looked even better under black lights. Wowza.

A note on plumbing...

2009-03-01T20:47:00.001+09:00

It's always just as my used toilet paper hits the surface of the water when I suddenly think: Oh NO! I can't do that in Korea.

There are rules about these things. Signs in Konglish alert me: "NO tampons, NO toilet paper" (there are also Korean letters on such signs, but I haven't figured out how to type them). The thing to do is toss paper waste into the trash can. It's so very, very simple, yet so easily forgotten.

My brain is programmed to let paper go down the drain, but now I know that that isn't okay. Luckily I haven't yet witnessed an overflowing toilet. And hopefully it doesn't take poo-water on my trainers to have me never make that mistake again.

From here on out, a conscious effort to remember: No paper in toilet. Got it? Good.