New Years Pictures

Instead of going to a busy bar Kevin and I stuck to the famous Haeundae beach, where though it doesn't look like it from the pictures, there were a couple thousand Korean people randomly firing off firecrackers being sold on the beach by old Korean women for hours.

Naked in korea - A tale in 3 acts

Yesterday was a long day.

ACT 1: Mt. Geumgong

I met up with Kevin around noon, used his Skype and his ate some oatmeal he made me. After loading some pictures onto this blog Kevin suggested that today might be a good day to go to Mt.Geumgong and take a gondala ride all the way to the top. I reminded him that Korean folklore says that the hill is haunted and that we should probably just drink some SoJu in his room until we pass out on each other. He considered this for a while but than convinced me that a gondala ride up the mountain may not only provide a breathtaking site, but could possibly be romantic. I was sold!



I won't bother giving some historical facts about the big mountain but will instead tell you how I believe the mountain came to be. Mt. Geumgong was invented by the powerful Korean warlord Cheung "Legs" Geumgoing to hide his vast fortune he amassed selling lasers to the Dutch . Originally he had been keeping his fortune safe in an enchanted well but soon needed more space than a simple enchanted well could provide thanks to the huge demand for laser hair-removal. So whilst flying his enchanted Unicorn Abraxus over a large hill he decided then and there that he would make a tiny hole at the very top of the mountain (after hollowing out the core) and keep his money there. Legend has it the mountain was angry at him for using it to keep his dirty money so it made the berries Cheung loved to eat so poisonous that his legs rotted off. But wise Cheung, now referred to as Legs, made a gondala to ferry him up and down the gigantic mountain. He lived happily there for many years.

This was the very gondala that Kevin and I bought 1-way tickets for. One way meaning you take the Gondala up for the 5-minute journey - and presumably walk 45 minutes down the hill after you've enjoyed the sights and sounds of Mt. Geumgong. We took the subway there, and Kevin figured that since it was going to be getting dark soon (it was around 4pm) we shpuld probably just hit the opulent Korean spa and relax and bask in each others uninhibited nakedness instead. Kevin seemed far too excited at this idea (his face was quite flushed) so I decided that we should just do the mountain first and decide about the spa after - Kevin wasn't too happy about this, but he quickly shrugged his shoulders and said, "whatever, I've waited 7 years for this, I can wait a couple hours more".

We walked towards the mountain, and slowly made our way up the streets which had now become quite steep and pretty deserted. Eventually we arrived quite winded and excited to take the "ropecar" up the famous mountain. An old woman cackled at us on our way in and kept saying "rope car?! rope car!?" and shaking her head. I knew she may be warning us saying, "careful, the mountain eats white meat" - but Kevin felt she was telling us that "the rope car closes at 6" (it was now 5pm). We bought our 1-way tickets ignoring the confused look of the Korean ticketseller and awaited the arrival of our little gondala car. the gondalas appeared to be made by the same people who maintain the rides at the Ex so I quietly wet myself and fiddled with my camera.




NOTHING EXCITES KOREAN CHILDREN MORE THAN SEEING KEVIN AND I WAITING FOR A GONDALA RIDE - HOW MANY KIDS CAN YOU COUNT?



The view really was quite spectacular, when I wasn't taking pictures I kept thinking:
"wow we're getting far from the city"
"where are all the other Koreans and their families?"
"I don't see any footpaths, they must be well hidden."
"If this gondala car cable snapped, would Kevin eat me alive or wait until I had succumbed to my injuries?"




Eager to take some pictures of the rapidly setting sun (Kevin calls it natures flashlight) I scrambled out of the Gondala and ran off into the woods with Kevin right behind me. I passed by a whole bunch of makeshift SoJu tents that all seemed to be closed for the night/season. The whole area was quite deserted and very quiet. After I snapped this photo the sun was gone abot 20 seconds later. There was still some light, but not much.


Kevin and I then clamoured over some rocks and took pictures of the whole downtown area - we were so high that we were able to get some nice shots of the area. Since it was fast getting dark - a lot of the lights really illuminated the city and made it look really nice. Kevin made the point of saying that we should probably start heading down after observing that there were no lights whatsoever to help us after it got dark. We chatted and hopped over some boulders and made our way back to the gondala. We wondered if it would be wise to take the last one but decided that this well-travelled moutain must surely have dozens of clearly marked paths. I mean, really what huge Ttourist attraction wouldn't?

How about a South Korean tourist attraction?



ONLY SEEING MY BACK QUALIFIES THIS AS AN ARTISTIC SHOT. NOTICE HOW I AM FACING AWAY FROM THE CAMERA LOOKING OUT TOWARDS THE VAST CITY? ITS LIKE I'M SAYING, "I AM SO UGLY THAT THE CAMERA WOULD SHATTER IF I LOOKED DIRECTLY AT IT".



I stood directly below the last Gondala as it clunked and rattled and began its rapid descent at 6:05, about five minutes after it should've left. It was packed with the remaining people on the mountain whom most likely ran to get to it in time. So Kevin and I watched it descend, took a couple more photos (this one was taken with me carefuly setting the camera on a large boulder and scrambling to where Kevin was standing) and decided that we should head down.



Now where could that path be? Is that it? No, thats just a 100-foot drop...um Okay, its not by the gondala - maybe its a little bit up the hill and around? Nope. Okay, I guess we'll let gravity be or guide!

Ken- (apprehensive) Where are all the paths?
Kevin- Maybe over the boulders?
Ken- but they're all boulders
Kevin- hey don't drink so much of that water we may need to conserve it
Ken- oh anyo haesyo!

And thus we began our descent through the Korean wilderness. My man purse smacked my butt roughly like a drunk Korean man to a innocent Korean child. After only 5 minutes my legs began feeling jellyish as they had to stop me constantly from surrendering to gravity and the jarring slope of the hill. At first it was okay, and we laughed and chuckled at the possibilty of havig to sleep in the woods overnight. It was warm, so we wouldn't have frozen to death - but Kevin kept insisting that body warmth was best conserved after shedding all your clothes and embracing your fellow lost soul.

I quickened my pace as thoughts of the Banjos from Deliverance twanged in my head - or was it just Kevin humming the tune reassuringly?

Feeling very much like Frodo and Sam (I informed Kevin that he would be my brave companion Samwise Gamji and I Frodo) we soldiered on. We kept positive and were somewhat comforted by the fact that as long as we headed downhill we were heading in the right direction. We had veered far to the right of where the gondala car descended, but really had little choice as it was all brush, boulders, and steep drops in between. I stayed in front not becuase I wanted to be the leader (even though I naturally was, being so brave)- but because my legs burned so much that I had no juice left to slow myself down. Sometimes we travelled what looked like tiny paths only to be led directly into more brush.

By now the little light of our friendship (Kevins words) had begun to dim, and i could no longer distinguish surface, jagged rock, or sharp branch. Because of dry leaves and other forest crap we both slid unexpectedly several times- stopping only by landing on a boulder or by grabbing onto the cloest tree )hoping it was not dead like all the others). i always hoped that a tree I grabbed onto would in fact be one of Kevins legs, as if I was going to hell, I was taking him with me. We stopped at one of the few clearings we chanced upon and took these pictures - Kevin suggested I leave my camera as a landmark- he is very funny.

WARMING HANDS BY CELLPHONE


KEVIN DECIDING THAT HE WANTS HIS MEAT LEAN. I REMOVED MY SHIRT SO HE KNEW HE'D HAVE ONLY SINEWY MUSCLE AND BONE. HE ATE A ROCK INSTEAD AND WAS SATISFIED.


We'd been descending for about 45 minutes by now and I was dripping with sweat, and wanting nothing more than to just emerge from the cruel forest - no matter how far from the entrance we were. The makeshift paths that no doubt were treaded nightly by Koreas national wild animal the Beareynolf (a terrifying mutation of Bear, Hyena, and Wolf) stopped suddenly and only heavy brush remained. By now I was thinking, "please don't twist an ankle", "please don't jab your eye out by the dagger-sharp thorny branch", "why does the city still look so far away?".

I was breakng down faster than a new belt on my older brothers pants.

Down and down we went - my face was getting whipped by sharp sticks while my legs and torso kept getting tangled in thick patches of razor-sharp thorn branches (probably very poisonous as well). Long drops became mere steps down as neither Kevin nor I wanted to spend the night in the woods - so we would swing down tree by tree, avoiding areas after hearing the other one yelp in pain. Just when I was about to give up and allow Kevin to eat me so he could continue (my generousity didn't dwindle like my hope)- the ground levelled out and the brush became minimal - we were no longer on the hill!

Instead we ran smack into a never-ending metal fence heavily topped with rusty coiled barbed wire.

Having no tears left to cry and assuming the fence was electrified I started following it back up the hill mumbling incoherently, "the fence will save us" - Kevin thankfully found an open gate and we walked through that. I still don't knwo what property we were on, but I was expecting guard dogs to eat me any second. About 2 minutes later we emerged in some dingy Korean alley in a slummy part of town where all the individual houses were heavily gated.

I was so glad to be out. This picture does not do me justice with how tired and sore I was. But it was an adventure, and we had earned a trip to the famous Daegu Spa - and Kevin had earned his right to sit naked with me in a hottub.




ACT 2- Spartaken

It took about 1/2 an hour to find this place but after we got in and paid about $7.50 each - we soon found ourselves in a huge opulent room with a huge domed ceiling littered with dozens of different hottubs (all of varying temperaures and concotions - jasmint, peppermint) and about 200 naked Korean men of all ages.
Being naked for the first time in front of group of strangers is already disconcerting and disheartening, but doing it in front of about 200 men in a homogenous culture where you are the whitest of the white is downright terrifying. After showering and really soaping ourselves down (I politely refused to pick up Kevins soap after he repeately would drop it and declare "its custom, now pick it up") we made our way to a realy hot hottub and dropped in.

If I could have let out a huge "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh" I would have - but I was too busy planning on what hottub to hit next. After the men became accustomd to the 2 tired-looking foreigners or the Cowboy and his Horse I heard one Korean man mumble we hopped from tub to tub. From "Traditional Medicine" to "philosophy" to "Peppermint" to "Jasmint" we than submerged our hot-blooded bodies into a freezing cold tub. Kevin insisted I drop my entire body in at once - I did- and for about 5 minutes all the men became convinced a foreign woman was in their presence because of my high-pitched squeal and the disappearance of my genitals. The steam room was hard to breathe, the dry room was alright for a few minutes, the multipe high-pressure showerhead that pummelled me with cold water was great, the lounging area where you lay down on an elevated bench allowed for all of Korea to see my shame, and the open-air hottub was great (freezing cold air and hot hottub). My favourite was an area where a huge column of water dropped directly onto you from about 25 feet high. It felt like someone was punching you whereever you allowed them too (I followed by example and got beaten up from my neck to the soles of my feet). It was this water-massage that stopped my muscles from being dead today.



We left the Spa refreshed and hungry and set out to find a Grill House back in Kevins area. The one we chose was great because the owner felt we were too stupid to know what to do with the fatty bacon we ordered so he cooked it for us and made us eat what, when, and how he felt we should. With beer and Soju rapidly filling me up, I welcomed our own personal chef. $20 later and enough bacon to kill a pig we returned to Kevins place, I loaded some pictures, and with Kevins help found a taxi to take me back to my area.

ALL KOREAN BUILDINGS RESEMBLE THIS ONE - NEON SIGNS ADVERTISING EVERYTHING FROM FOOD TO LOVE MOTELS TO RUB N TUGS


I WAS SCARED OF THE OWNER SO I TOOK THIS SHOT QUITE QUICKLY AND THAN HID MY CAMERA


I got the only cab in Korea that obeyed the traffic lights, was mindful of pedestrians (didn't aim for them), and didn't know his way to the subway. Taxis chrage you by the distance that rapidly descends on the counter- the faster they go, the faster the clock drops. Don't get me wrong, he was a careful cabby, but the drive was still heart-stopping. After asking 2 other cabbies for directions he and I both kind of gave up and I just told him to drop me off on a corner. As luck would have it, i was only a block away from where I asked him to take me.

ACT 3: Bryans computer

So by now I am exhausted and feeling a cold creeping on - so I get inside, drown myself in vitamins and begin a long-winded blog with the days events still in my head. About 2 hours later, I was just thinking of a clever last line, "Kevin can be my Tony Curtis anyday) when Bryans computer simply decided to close Internet Explorer and shut itself down. So I calmly closed the computer, punched my bed several times and went to sleep.

And I didn't get to move into my place today because the other teacher had "unforseeable" problems. "You listen", I wanted to say to him this morning, "I got lost on a haunted mountain, was almost eaten by my friend, bathed with 200 Korean men for $7, got fed fatty bacon by a pushy grillhouse owner, and after barely making it home by taxi, got screwed by a computer - get out of my apartment!" - but I didn't, I just said "okay, happy new year!".

And that was that.

Kevin can be my Tony Curtis anyday.

Just Pictures

KEVIN STANDING ON TYPICAL KOREAN STREET - HE IS VERY BRAVE




KEN TAKING PICTURE OF TYPICAL KOREAN STREET - I AM VERY BRAVE



THE STAIRS LEADING OUT OF MY SUBWAY - OLD KOREAN WOMEN LOVE THEM



KOREAN WASHING MACHINE - ABOUT AS CONFUSING AS CANADIAN ONES




THESE APARTMENT BLOCKS ARE EVERYWHERE - AND I MEAN EVERYWHERE



THE APARTMENT BUILDING I AM STAYING IN



THESE GUYS WILL GET YOU YOUR PIZZA IN 10 MINUTES OR THEY WILL BE EXECUTED




I'LL TAKE THE WHOLE THING PLEASE - READ WHAT THE VAN SAYS



ME IN KOREA! A MOTORCYCLE ALMOST HIT ME A SECOND LATER

Just loading some random pictures now, blog will come much much later.

Well, I suppose I could just sleep

So today was supposed to be my night to become a dreamy Korean popstar.

It was the work party and we were all supposed to get tanked and stumble off to one of the trillions of Korean Norebahngs that dot Korea. Instead we ate pizza which had sweet potato on it while I was grilled about what my blood type was, a very popular question in Korea (I told them that it was none of their 'goddman dirty business' and they left me alone) and whom I thought the cutest Korean teacher was (the Director Bryan said it in a way that he hoped I said him - so I just said, 'all koreans are beautiful!' which left him quite satisfied). There were also plates and plates of raw fish chicken wings and booze. What is so annoying about the Korean culture though is that once you are done your "cup o booze" you must wait until someone notices that you're running empty for them to ceremoniously fill your cup (you must hold it with two hands, or one arm supporting the other though for respect- just like in the Godfather movies right?). I got annoyed waiting and just held my cup with a pathetic "gimme gimme" look on my face. We all chatted (Foreigners to foreigners Koreans to Koreans) and then that was it. No singing. No Tom Jones - No panties.

And man is it cold here. It is as cold as it was in Toronto.

Teaching went better today - but it is still one of the more difficult jobs I've held (yes, handing out balloons at the Eatons Centre was tough, and selling Snapple at the EX wasn't exactly a walk in the park) but the books they give these kids - and the chain I work for has their own very well-respected books - just has the kids memorising the words and repeating them back - throw in a word they haven't read like I did (hope) and they give you their sad/confused Korean child look. I am having more fun with it though as I just consider them a tough audience. This time I loved telling Arnold (the nerdy kid who on my first class stared exasperated at the roof and would slap his forehead in annoyance) that he was incorrect in his spelling because all the kids than laugh at him as he annoys them so I than make a big effort to tell the kids angrily that Arnold is trying very hard and just needs to keep on trying (rightaway I move over to his tablemate and give her a sticker for being cute and sweet - even if she is just chewing on her book). Being a paid bully is very fulfilling.

Thats about it - no diarrhea stories, no run-ins with prostitutes - its only been a week though so I'm sure I'll run into a prostitute with diarrhea eventually.

Quick update

I am about to start work and won't have enough time to post today as we are having a staff party later. They say its for the guy who's leaving, but I say its for the man who's already here (me).

I applied for my Alien Registration Card today somewhere far from where I live. A fellow teacher accompanied me (thank goodness), because the immigration place was FILLED with tacky stereotypical Russian pimps and their impatient products and little English. It was just like out of the movies concerning the Russian and his tired-but-excited-at-the-goldmine of the Korean sex industry female friend. Nicole (the teacher who came with me) told me I should stop staring because I may look like I am interested in sampling the goods. I told her I wouldn't even know how to open the wrapper and started to laugh wittily (a kind of snort). She asked me if that meant I was a virgin, so I told her angrily that the matter was closed. A lot of the local signs were in Russian because there are so many prostitutes and their Russian pimps around that particular area - the docks, the foreigner market, the prostitute shopping mall. Pretty crazy. You really can get everything there.

To get the actual ARC itself it an odd process. You pick a number, sit on a box or a dusty sponge chair and wait for your number to pop up with a (ding!) somewhere in the room. You then approach the kindly Korean Immigration officer and surrender your passport for 2 weeks, while submitting your hastily filled application form (on which are a huge amount of typos and other errors - crazy for a government document but quite the norm in Korea). I was fearful for my poor little passport, but apparently this is how it works- cost me $60 too!

After that we briefly looked around the infamous foreigner market (which was just opening for the day). There were hundreds of makeshift stores selling stuff you can only find at home (framed picture of my twin was available for $1, too much $$though). You can also buy really expensive cognac there too which is pretty nuts. I didn't get anything but made a mental note in my etch-a-sketch brain to come back and browse. (mental note- Find monkeys paw).

After the work party tonight I will be expected to accompany everyone to a Norebang (singing place). I will try to belt out a Tom Jones song and then sink quietly into the ground. Sophia suggested I sing, "I'm your private dancer" by Tina Turner, Court suggested "I'm coming out!" - I may just do both!

Teacher Ken pick his bumb!

Actually I was spreading the perfume around- but thats later:

I am exhausted and its barely been a week.

I woke up as I usually do, dreaming that I am not in Korea and turning very confused when I realise I am. This has been my 3rd day without coffee and my brain has now begun to make really good arguments as to why I should start again. I walked around for a couple of hours this morning, and still couldn't find a power converter that can take a Western-style plug that will allow it to fit into a Korean power socket. I assumed they'd be everywhere - but no. So I may have to get one mailed to me. People say I can find some in the foreigner market - but the instant they tell me the Korean subway stop I forget the Korean word and just decide to deal with it later. Procrastination spans continents. Somebody in this internet cafe is listening to the Boyz to Men Christmas album out loud and singing along quietly in a romantic Korean sounding voice - its amusing and annoying (like nocturnal emissions in your mid-twenties).

The 2nd day of teaching went better than the first - except this time I went to the washroom during a 10-minute break - not noticing until it was too late that the management had removed all of the toilet paper since the children have been throwing it in the urinals. Thanks to my MacGyver-like ingenuity though, I not only cleaned myself up, but emerged smelling of a fruity Korean perfume for the rest of the day. The rash was a little annoying though, especially as one kid yelled, "Teacher Ken pick his bumb!" - I couldn't call him a liar - but did correct him by saying, "picked". Needless to say, I still don't like teaching. Maybe its because its simply difficult to teach children who not only are young, but also don't want to really learn the language (when they have to recite, they sound like little Korean-made robots) - very telling. And the scowls you get from the occasional sullen 12-year old girl if you ask them to participate is downright frightening. Next time, I will just strike her - and intimidate her into answering me. The only fun kids were the 3 cute 5 year olds I had - they put on different voices to amuse me and that made all the difference.

I still find myself sweating buckets trying to entice the kids to speak ANY word of English. They don't really learn stuff in these English schools, most of the time they just memorize it - as thats all the books will allow. One of the 11-year olds proved that to me today when he quietly packed his book away, pulled out a peice of old gum and played with it while reciting all of the bad English scenarios and role playing parts of the lesson. When the other kids saw how impressed (actually confused) I was with this, they all decided to do the same thing. Now, its not like you can just use teaching tools you'd use on Western kids because they cannot link new stuff to what they just recited - their faces melt into this annoying, but common Korean response of anguished confusion, which is half-way between a giggle and a cry - all the while staring at the ground like you just told them that their parents were killed justly by a falling tree. And I still have 45 minutes to kill.

With the remaining time I take advantage of the fact that we are being filmed all the time (with no sound) and walk up and down the desks waving my hands and talking about the various episodes of my life - from my failed film career to the various stalkers I've had to my jail stint. Tomorrow I will tell them my experience with food poisoning and draw pictures.

In Korea the air always has this weird smell. All the time. People say it is Red Pepper Paste - but personally, I think it smells like Mr. Noodles before you add the seasoning. Sweet for the first second, but nauseating the next (and I'm in a clean area). Have to cut this one short as I have an early day tomorrow- I am off to apply for my Alien Registartion Card. Sorry for cheapness of this blog.

So you can add teaching to my no-career list

The teachers warned me that kids could smell fear, but just in case they had trouble smelling it - I added my own copious amounts of sweating along with dropping my water bottle twice nervously for visual displays.

The first class had that kid GOD in it (I was sent pictures months ago from another teacher and one of the kids had named himself God). There was also some pushy know-it-all kid named Arnold who while he loved to talk and show everyone how much English he knew - also found it necessary to slap his forehead in annoyance when I forgot what page we were looking at, and would look at the roof and breathe in this exasperated state when I couldn't figure out how to work the CD player. Only Korean teachers are technically allowed to strike 10-year olds, but maybe I can just dunk his glasses in a toilet when he isn't paying attention.

For the first few minutes I had their respect when I would stammer something like, "Hey GOD, no speaking Korean in class now! - Teacher Ken doesn't like that" and they would return to garbled English - until 20 minutes later when it had sunk into an all out who-can-swear-at-teacher-in-Korean until the class ended. Now I know how Michelle Pheffier feltin Dangerous Minds. A helpful teacher soon after reminded me to be firm saying "if you lose them on the first day, you'll never find them again". So much for me finding God.

The last 2 hours were the best as this 15-year old girl named Jenny pays 2 hours twice a week to come in and just play scrabble with a foreign teacher and converse one on one. Between her scrabble words of "destiny" and "monitor", I managed to make the words "see" and "if"- she told me it was a good first effort. I was pleased too.

After work another foreign teacher and I went out for some food. It was all pretty spicy and noodley, but was the first offer of food I've had in Korea since Bryans insistence on feeding me "Soy milk" so I took it. After dinner we walked all the way down to the beach and through a bunch of side streets. Just my little tiny section of Haeundae is huge! It would literally take years to really make your way through Busan alone. Every street has a nook and in every nook you'll find a cranny containing an old-fashioned rub'n'tug (thats right, old fashioned!). Also, every teacher has about 60 places where they recommend you go to at least twice - and I've only met 3 teachers. Nicole and I ended up right beside the famous Westin Chosun near some site called the APEC (which I gather is some political thing according to what Nicole was explaining to me - but I had to feign like I knew what she meant, for I had been staring at a little dog wearing a paper hat). On our way back we passed through this little makeshift tent market containing about 60+ identical vendors sandwiched together- all were individual establishments that sat about 5 people around a makeshift aquarium/food display/bar that sold SoJu and the live sea things swimming happily in front of you - I was disgusted and in awe.

A lot of the area had huge gorgeous and lavish condo buildings where the rich (and therefore extremely happy) citizens of Busan call home. After about 3 hours of walking though, I was tired and ready to go back to Bryans place with his gentle cajoling of soy milk - my Korean home. As I was walking back I saw a couple of things I was warned about in Korea - first thing was 2 girls holding hands where I instinctually cried with delight "lesbians!" until I immediately noticed 2 businessmen caressing each others backs while their wives chatted next to them. Maybe they take "don't ask don't tell" to a new and subtly erotic level. After that I saw a man lying serenely on the road, still in his suit from work. He wasn't at all like a person dead drunk I'd see lying on Toronto streets curled up in a defensive fetal position - this guy was semi-conscious and on his back with his legs kind of pumping like he was on an invisible bicycle - he looked very comfortable and pleasantly drunk.

I told Nicole of the Xmas dinner I force fed my toilet (poo humour!!) and how I didn't want to bug her on Xmas which is why I didn't call her asking for help. Turns out she is a diarrhea witch doctor and had several kinds of Immodium. She also had the same thing first week she got here so she stocked up when she found some in Seoul. Shitty. Another teacher Chris (whose apartment I will be taking this Saturday hopefully) told me how himself and a few other teachers had the exact same problem this past weekend, all starting late Saturday evening and ending about 48 hours later.

Anyways, I'm tired and can't think of anything else to write - and the sounds of World of Warcraft going on all around me is making me feel like I'm in....well, Korea I guess.

Or maybe it was just food poisoning

Well I had a very rough night - and I think I can say that this has been the "shittiest" Christmas ever. I had to tell Kevin to go to the delicious Western buffet without me - its not that I care at all about losing $22, okay I do, but more so for the food I now miss so much. I was really really looking forward to it. Right about now, I'd actually eat almost anything - except Street Meat of course.

I tried briefly leaving the sanctity of my apartment (and close proximity to a toilet) today to try and find some Immodium or something. Whats funny is that it was my fear of attempting to buy food from a legit place due to my lack of Korean, which is the reason I bought the street meat in the first place. Now, in order not to die from dehydration I had to try to find a pharmacy and try to get through with no Korean. But naturally, since its Xmas day no stores were open - and its not like South Korea has the same products/selection that we do. My begging for Immodium just met with blank faces. I even played Charades to explain my dilemma. And there are no after-hours clinics, well none that I know at least. I have no medical insurance yet, everyones away for Xmas, and I don't know if I'll need antibiotics. Needless to say, all I managed to get was some water and gatorade - my Xmas dinner.

Just a couple of the crazy things I've seen since arriving only 5 days ago (feels much longer though)
1- I will never drive a scooter. Stopping at a red light for cars is a courtesy, but not the rule. Scooters meanwhile, have no rules to abide by - they can go right through an intersection, drive up the wrong side of the road, run reds, anything. They are terrifying to watch.
2- There isn't a single spot that isn't taken by a restaurant or another family-run place. So many stores of all varying sizes- and very few chain places. When I was in Kevins area I noticed a man sleeping in a sleeping bag just behind the counter of his tiny cigarette store. All of these stores, every building on each floor has huge garrish signs displaying who they are.
3- Pedestrians do not in any way have the right of way- just like the travel books say - get used to cars whizzing quickly by you, missing you by barely an inch.
4- I am not the Rock Star people said I would be. The only Koreans that bat an eye at seeing me are young children (around 7) and tweens (12). Once you say "hi" they say "hi" back and leave you alone.
5- I am in a very busy foreinger area yet I rarely see any. All I see are Koreans. Toronto has so many different cultures - not here.
6- Internet cafes are everywhere. Every. Where.
7- Everyone drinks SoJu
8- Street meat is sold everywhere and everyone eats it (i know)
9- It seems like a very safe country. The nights I have been outside past midnight, I still see children walking around with their parents.
10- The girls do not like wearing jeans. Regardless of how cold it is, they must show their legs.
11- Vendors hire people to dance and sing with microphones to attract business.
12- Advertisements are everywhere. Guys on motobikes expertly throw business cards like ninja stars. You think Toronto is getting advertising heavy? You ain't seen nothing yet.
13- All the guys have the same hair (long and pieced)
14- The girls above 25 are either very attached or very looking to become attached.
15- Foreigners do not smile at other foreigners
16- The more Korean I try to speak, the more English I suddenly hear back.
17- Kevins area is totally the Korea I envisioned from the movies, mine kind of seems like Bloor Street - but tackier.

Geez I didn't envision X-mas to be spent like this. Bored and on the can. Sorry.

Tis truly the gift that keeps giving and giving and giving and giving and giving...

Guess who got TRAVELLERS DIARRHEA?!

I didn't touch the water. I washed my hands till they were raw every time they came in contact with a public surface..but the devil on my shoulder that I often listen to gave me some of his great advice, and again, I listened.

Because of the thumbs-up of small children covered with a thick red paste around their mouths clutching bare sticks that once had meat on it - this hungry-looking foreigner thought he was invincible and summoned the nerve after 15 minutes of standing around to approach a Korean vendor in one of the hundreds of make shift kitchen/shops that sell various kinds of meat on a stick. I was so hungry, and figured this would be my "do something Korean!" activity of the day. I even took a picture of the accused!



Shyly apporaching the vendor like a self-conscious pervert to a porn salesman I mumbled "hello" in Korean and pointed to a chicken stick while patting my distended belly, looking my utmost retarded - something that I've found gets me food here in Korea. "is chicken" the friendly woman replied. I nodded my head vigourously as I suddenly missed home and thought of the chicken my mom made me eat for every meal my entire life. I gave her 1000 won to pay for the treat- and she gave me back 500 won! - "Holy Shit!" I thought to myself, "I've discovered cheap gold!". After handing me my 50-cent some-part-of-chicken-on-a-stick and greedily eating it I heard an evil cackling from the woman. It was very much like in Revenge of the Nerds where Booger meets an old grizzled man who becomes his burping mentor (or that similar part on the Simpsons when Homer gets a Monkeys Paw and then hears a cackling from the old mysterious vendor in an alley as well).

But it turns out I had gotten the red stuff all over my face and she was just offering me some napkins.

D'oh!

Extremly proud of myself, I summoned the courage, confidence, and utter stupidity to try another one of her delicacies. I pointed to one I assumed was meatballs, but upon eating it, realised it was a meat I had never eaten before. Kevin told me it was impossible that it was dog - so I assume it was ancient Korean dragon meat.

Proudly telling Kevin of my Korean experience we started walking around looking for a place to eat. I was excited to tell him every detail.

It hit me when we were walking. Thanks to my quick-thinking body I managed to not crap myself in the sea of Koreans enjoying X-mas eve and scream "anyo haseyo!" which ironically would have been the proper response. My eyes just widened suddenly and I dipped my body forward like an old Korean person. I hadn't felt the normal cramping one gets when their own little Willy Wonka chocolate factory decides to make chocolate milk rather than chocolate bars...uh-oh hold on a second.

That makes 15 trips down the River Cocoa.

Alright MOM I'll stop the poo analogies. But you get my point.

I just think its ironic that I laughed when the Doctor told me "careful about Travellers Diarrhea" - diarrhea is a funny word coming from anyone. The pharmacist in Oakville didn't seem overly concerned about it - but he did recommend some kind of a powder concotion that prevents the dreaded TD. I even mocked it on this blog!Google Travellers Diarrhea - the odds are not in your favour. But then this comes from a guy who lost all his money at Canadas wonderland when he was 8 trying to throw dozens and dozens of quarters on a plate 5 feets away to win a big doll. Theres nothing Canadas Wonderland employees love more than 8-year old gambling junkies shrieking profanities at plates.

Anyways to make a crappier story even stinkier I cut the evening short with Kevin, came home (my director Bryan is not here to ply me with Soy milk) and let the festivities begin. Rather than Eggnog with Rum and X-mas stories its Gatorade and groans. I have to keep hydrating myself - even though I am still dehydrated from the flight over.

So I wish you a Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night - but not me - for sleeping with travellers diarrhea would be similar to a truck driver falling asleep on a twisty highway - a messy, unnecessary disaster that could have been prevented with the proper precautions.

Brief trip into the docks of Busan

This is the dreamy look onmany of the advertisements here for SoJu. the men usually look like they are wearing lipstick, but Kevin wants to save his for work so I had to use my au natural look.

We spent a couple of hours walking around the docks of Busan. We went down a bunch of side streets and saw whaty I usually see in movies - old women selling many different kinds of fish (big scary ones) and old women hawking vegetables that I can't ever imagine eating. We got back on the subway eventually, which was packed, and I bought a bottle of SoJu for a dollar.

I don't know how I am going to eat tonight, as it is so hard to buy food when you can't speak a single word of Korean.

day 3 and all is Anyo Haseyo!

CLICK ON THE PICTURES TO MAKE THEM BIGGER!


TOTO, WHY IS KANSAS WRITTEN IN KOREAN?

I tried to write a blog last night but almost fell asleep in a PC Bahng - I had finally met up with Kevin and after our delicious Korean BBQ we had beer and soju.

LANDING IN BUSAN
Then I felt like just passing out but thought I would be able to write a very insightful blog instead. Soju and typing don't mix and I kind of passed out in a chair. I also blame the jetlag though, as I was able to wake up at 7am today and didn't feel hungover at all.


THE KOREAN GUY I WAS SITTING NEXT TO ON THE PLANE. I COVERTLY TRIED TO TAKE A PICTURE OF HIM.


ME SO RICH!

In a nutshell heres whats happened in the past 48 hours:

I didn't sob like a little lost girl yesterday - so thats progress.


THE FIRST STUFF I BOUGHT, FEELING VERY SMUG




FIRST MEAL I ORDERED AND ATE- THE FISH EGG THING


THE FISH/DORITOS I ALMOST ATE BEING VERY HUNGRY




I went to the school where I'll be teaching and after about 5 minutes I was told by one of the 10 Korean teachers that i would had to dress up as Santa Claus for the kids. "but the kids will think Santa is anorexic, pale and just going through puberty!" I cried, but she kept smiling and saying, "you will be so happy!". Before bursting into giglges with the other Korean teachers and running off holding each others arms. I grumbled unhappily (felt like sobbing and breaking no sobbing for 1 consecutive day" record) and had to stuff my nice dress jacket I wore for work in my pants, thus making me look like a pregnant Santa and emerged Koreas worst representation of X-mas.




THE DIRECTORS FRIDGE - THE JUICE PACKETS ARE THICK AND SYRUPY AND I CAN'T IDENTIFY THE FRUIT ON THEM


The kids were having a special X-Mas day so there really wasn't any teaching happening. Thus there were about 40 little Koreans eating lots of candy and getting chunky, hyper, and cruel. I walked up to them and squeaked "ho ho ho!" in a fey high-pitched voice, feeling like a complete loser. None of the kids shouted "Santa!" they just stared at me and looked away, ignoring me. So taking the initiative and trying not to sweat on the kids I approached one and said what I said to every kid which was just, "whats your name?", he shyly said "Samuel" and then proceeded to offer me a blue gumball he had been clenching in his dirty candy-soaked hand. Being the weak idiot I am I put it in my mouth graciously and thereby got blue crap all over my cheap cotton beard and the all the germs he has collected from his 7 years in the land of the morning calm (south korea). The rest of the day I'll talk about another time.


BEFORE I LEFT FOR THE AIRPORT




ME AND ALL MY LUGGAGE (NOTICE THE WET SPOT ON MY JEANS?)




AT PEARSON AIRPORT - IT WAS A WHERES WALDO WITH KOREANS AND ONE WHITE GUY



the director asked one of the teachers at 4:05 to take me to the bank to open a bank account. the banks close at 4:30. Since I didn't have my passport on me he asked in his gentle voice if I would run like hell all the way back to his place, get my passport and run back, walking takes at least 15 minutes. i managed to do so, but only after suffering two minor heart attacks and cramping in my buttcheeks, which are only used to a slow stroll. Arriving at 4:25 the bank was filled with about 60 Koreans, and there were no windows open and the place, I kid you not, smelled like a stale car filled with people that had been farting noxious farts for hours and breathing the fumes in and out with fart breath. It was disgusting. i let a couple go myself to show my distaste. Afterall, when in Korea...


FIRST AND ONLY MEAL I HAD ON PLANE. IT WAS THE ONLY FOOD I WOULD EAT FOR MANY MANY MANY MANY HOURS



When I finally met up with Kevin that evening I didn't recognise him, even though he was only the 3rd foreigner I've seen on the street. We walked around for a bit and eventually got the balls to go up to a 5th floor Korean BBQ house. The place was smokey and filled entirely with Korean families - it was just like the movies. Knowing my status in Korea was at stake I removed my shoes and proceeded to kneel down at a tiny table with Kevin and left the rest up to him. the server spoke no English but I knew Kevin would see us through. He proceeded to "read" the Hangul menu and slowly began mumuring Korean words, "choosing" different foods like an expert. After jabbering back and forth it eventually dawned on me that the girl didn't know what he was saying. Thankfully a helpful korean lady next to us indicated that she meant "with bones" or "without" - after allowing Kevin to navigate that as well he did manage to order us two beers and some soju. He confessed that he just kept saying "sorry". He had nothing to be sorry about because I was 100% useless and ready to give up and walk to Dominos. The whole meal only cost about $21.




THIS WAS A ROBOT I BEFRIENDED AT SEOUL AIRPORT



We then explored a bit of the neighbourhood but kept accidentally finding ourselves at scary Gentlemans clubs before finding a little bar where a bottle of beer cost us $5 each. By this point I was pretty drunk and extremely tired. Kevin showed me how to use the subway before he left which I miraculously recalled this morning. Korea is actually quite English friendly. The signs around Korea all have some English and like Seoul airport the subway had audible instructions in both Korean followed by English. i of course still insist it is another world entirely and act like i can't understand a korean who is speaking english abck to me. During other occasoinas when the korean person speaks no english my hand gestures flow easier now when trying to choose between medium and large cups and by constantly saying "Mee a nay Oh!" which is sorry I start just going "uhhhhhhhh......uhhhhhhh..." as filler - hoping that the korean person i am speaking with will suddenly understand english.

I'd write a better blog but i am on kevins computer and he wants some attention. Also, I have to sit on a tiny pillow on the floor and my legs are cramping and losing circulation. Since I can't put pictures on my blog unless i'm at Kevins, don't expect more pictures until i see him again. I'd like to see him every day, but he says that i am smothering him. i think hes just scared.

First meal

Well hunger forced me to go find some food this morning as my director kept offering in his soft voice- "do you want soy milk?".

First stop was a Starbucks, there was a white guy in front of me ordering in English and the clerk responded back in limited English - heaven to my ears. I still attempted to order in my Quasi-Korean which was to say as many versions of "tall" as I could - medium, regular, mid-size (using hands) while repeating the word coffee and pointing to what I assumed to be a coffee machine. She gave me a coffee and charged me $3 which is more expensive than Canada. Saying, "here you go. Thats 3 dollars Have a nice day." I smiled gratefully, but was soon sad once again as they didn't have any cream out. So I drank it black.

I then decided that since Koreans don't differentiate breakfast from Lunch or Dinner that I may as well try to order in a Korean place, though I saw a Dominos when I was walking. I passed by a place with a bunch of pictures and knew that after pointing I would be able to eat something. Again, I was starving.

I walked in said Anyo Hanseyo! and immediately garbled what phonetically would sound like, "Mee a Nay oh! Chul Hangulmal moe-tay-oe!" roughly saying "Sorry! I don't speak Korean!". Judging by the confused look on the Korean womans face I didn't need to tell her I couldn't speak Korean. I pointed to what I assumed was a chicken-vegetable dish and after being asked to sit down I hollered that it was meant for "take out", so i could take it home and take a picture of it- saying to the director, "This is what I think of your damn Soy Milk!" before eating the whole thing in a single bite. After bringing me some infamous Kimchi and a bowl filled with brother and chives she went back to the kitchen and began to converse with her old Korean mother (who was cooking my food). It was brought to me in scalding hot bowl that continues to cook the rice (like when you order Fajitas at a restaurant) while you eat it. Tourism Korea considers the rice burnt and stuck to the bottom as "the tasty icing on the tasty cake!"

The Kimchi tasted like Spicy Tomatoey Sauerkraut that had a picklish crunch to it (not bad, but you can really taste the "fermentedness").

The meal I ordered was actually spicy fish eggs and vegetables - the seafood was, I believe, fish eggs (hundreds of semi-crunchy orange balls) some cut up crab meat, and octopus - the vegetables was shredded lettucey stuff, carrots, and mushrooms. Of course this was all on a huge bed of sticky rice. I stopped eating rice in Toronto because it gave me gigantic love handles - but apparently it comes with everything. I was more than full after about half of it, but was frightened of Chef Korean Mother - so I ate every last bit of it. And with chopsticks to try and win her love! At one point I was going to say, "this is good" in Korean but after I picked up my book I realised my Faux-pas of stabbing my chopsticks into the bowl (my hands were hurting). Doing this gestures that the food is being offered to the dead - but since no one saw me I gave up on figuring out how tom compliment the food and ended up just giving it a thumbs-up and saying, "mmmm".

After asking how much it was in my broken Korean she answered me in perfect korean - assuming I knew what she said. After staring blankly at her for about 20 seconds I held up my fingers indicating "4000 won?", to which she nodded and held up her fingers. So $4. She said "goodbye" and i scrambled to say Goodbye to her in my korean which took about a minute and seemed to frighten her - according to the Director whom I told about it later - my "goodbye" sounded more like I was telling her to "Halt!". I also bowed 7 times.

Now I am wondering if I am allergic to anything I ate.

CSI- Korea

Okay, my first day in Korea is drawing to a close and I am watching CSI with subtitles. All in all, its been kind of a blur. The director seems to be a really nice guy - even though he doesn't actually eat food. I only meant to have a short nap but ended up sleeping until about 10:30pm (Korea time). By then the Director was home watching a sappy Korean soap opera, so I stumbled out from the little room I stay in (just under his staircase) and said "Anyo Haseyo!". He jumped up from his crouching-lotus position and slapped me in the face and shrieked with tears streaming down his face- "Nevoora inatoorrupt me while I watch Korean Soap Opoora!". We both cried together and our friendship solidified while I learned to appreciate the unsubtle approach to Korean love stories. After learning the Korean phrase, "Soap Opera is so good for you" he released me from his 6-fingered hand and ordered me to make him a hamburger.

So what if that didn't happen, and I am not living my own little Harry Potter-like existence? I'm in Korea!

Actually we just talked about where hes visited and the same old crap people talk about when just meeting. He actually speaks perfect English - so that made this little Canuck feel a little better. I think they are having a Christmas party tomorrow - and it looks as if they are making me teach the teacher-whom-I-am-replacings class tomorrow. "just play some games with them" the Director non-chalantly told me. Doesn't help my freaking out! There are cameras in the classroom so the Korean mommies can watch their kids on the internet. So I guess the game Spin-the-bottle is out.

The neighbourhood itself is actually quite nice. Apparently they don't have guns here (they use their fists along with their honey-dipped knuckles covered covered in gunpowder- you can imagine what a punch to the nose would look like) so the area is pretty safe. I had to go out and get more water (the Director doesn't drink water) and picked up a sushi roll that had crunchy things in it - I didn't think Sushi was supposed to be crunchy but for the equilavent of 50 cents - who cares, and there were a bunch of older people just strolling around. Theres a ton of Neon signs too. Occasionally I hear Christmas songs being sung horribly in Korean throughout stores, and it makes me laugh.

I am still pathetically homesick but am not eager to spend another 24 hours travelling just yet. I haven't been able to get in touch with Kevin as I don't know how to use a payphone yet (I was hoping Kevin would teach me). The good thing is that the Director (Bryan is his English name) has a computer here that I can access the internet with.

All in all everything really is going good. But it has only been 24 hours, and I am no Jack Bauer should the kimchi hit the fan.

Quick Update

Okay. I am in Korea. I think. I do know that I am 14 hours ahead of Canada, so technically I am living in the future. And that future is Asians and apartment buildings.

I am going to write a better blog when I am not suffering from crazy jetlag and major dehydration (from flying and crying). The first flight left Pearson at midnight and I was given a tiny cup (about as much as you'd pee in at the doctors) of water, I didn't get any more water util 5 hours into the flight, and no, they don't sell it on-board. Apparently I was the only one who thought this insane. Then I fell asleep (crying takes a lot out of a man) and awoke to everyone being served dinner. I ate some kind of bimibap (not spelt right) and I took a picture of it. I was a disgusting pig while I ate it as well. I passed out again and awoke to people eating banannas. I didn't get one and fell asleep confused and hungry for a long yellow thing to - stop it!

Anyways, I don't want to make this into a big blog so off to point form!
- I turned down the inflight breakfast as I was nauseous when I woke up and it was Green Tea Oatmeal they were serving.
- The moment I got out of immigration at Seoul I walked out of the arrivals area looking lost and confused. Naturally some Korean fellow came up to me, grabbed my arm and started insisting he drive me to another airport. "Anyo Haseyo!" I yelled at him several times, rough translation ("hello! Hello!"). he eventually left me alone after my "hellos" turned mean. I had to wwait 5 hours for my next flight down to Busan.
- I got picked up from somebody from the recruitment agency and was driven true Korean style (we need to adapt to them back home, not vice-versa). Since I had no water in me I dry-pissed myself and we ended up at the school where I'll be teaching at (this was all about 3 hours ago).
-The Director seems like a nice guy, and I was given the key to his apartment and dropped off there to "relax". First off, the door took 20 minutes to open because the keys here only respond to true Koreans. Secondly, the place was boiling hot (which I can't stand), 3rd you can't drink tap water and he had no WATER for me to gorge myself with so thus I had to venture out and get water or die. Lastly I wanted some kind of cracker and all he had in his entire apartment was a bag of dried salted tiny fish (head and all). I am only about 500 feet away from his apartmnet complex but think I am lost. Its apartments everywhere.

I had written a fair bit more but apparently when you press the "Escape" button which I had to do because I hit a "print screen" button and tried to stop it, I lost the entire blog. I recovered some of it though - so, maybe I am still an idiot savant.

Okay, enough for now. I have to get some water in me, and I don't know if I was supposed to stay in until the Director gets home tonight.

Evidently, I wish I were home tonight as well!

Shit!

I am trying to use an internet phone and keep running out of money!

So Long Kansada!

Gee. Again absolutely nothing to say. This must be a record.

I think the picture says it all though.

My bags were overweight, my book about how to "understand" Koreans never arrived, and I feel like I've eaten 20 Ex-Lax chased with a bottle of Epicac.

I won't be able to update this blog for a while, as I will be busy trying to perfect the art of squat toilets so don't expect one for several days - but check anyways!

Thanks to all who wished me well. Enjoy your sleep tonight, I'll cry enough for all of us.

Aieeeeee!

ToTo, you can speak Korean right?

Forget thoughtful last statements - witty analogies about facing your worst fears with dignity and courage. I feel like Ed Norton in 25th Hour where he is spending his last night of freedom drinking before he goes to jail for a very long time. He is scared because he will be the fresh fish. Koreans love fresh fish. I never even had a chance to spawn.

I have spent the day tying up last minute things, having drinks with those who will buy them for me, and receiving calls from people who say stuff like, "Please be careful.", "Geez (heavy breath) 14-hours is a long flight...those planes can carry that much gas? Do terrorists know this?", and the always encouraging "I didn't know you spoke Korean! You don't? Do you have enough time to learn it?".

I'm in denial. I have nothing funny to write. Theres nothing funny about ESL.

I only know "Hello!", will that get me through every sticky situation?

What happens if I'm allergic to cabbage?

Shit! Shit! Shit! What the hell am I doing?

Hey Mom...thanks (#20)

So I've been living back at my moms place for well over a month now and by my own choice, I've reverted back to the "you-don't-understand-me-and-I-friggin'-hate-you!" teenager-with-angst I once was. I don't have anything else to do, so I thought it would be a fun way to pass the time.

The big difference is that now my mom won't appease me and try to understand me. She just says "Fine. Make your own friggin' dinner than!" and proceeds to eat by herself (she will even eat past her stuffing point to ensure I don't eat her leftovers from the garbage). Selfish as always. Whatever, I can eat crackers.

Anyways, during all my usual crap ("No you flush the friggin' toilet! I friggin' hate you so much!") she still found the time to pack all of my life into the 2 suitcases I'm allowed to bring to Korea...well one suitcase and one duffel bag (which she bought on her lunch hour from work while I remained fast asleep dreaming of many unflushed toilets). But I'm always pretty smug when she points out all of the work she did by replying, "well, I woulda done it sooner or later, but I knew you needed to do this to help let go. So hey, you're welcome mom." If it was left to me I would have arrived in Korea wearing what I wore to bed the night before (a nightie with Canadian Geese on it).

Moms are great because they keep feeding you, regardless of how hard you bite.

Other than that - I recently looked at a book to try to learn the Hangul in a couple of hours study. I thought I would be very much like Neo from the Matrix movies and after a couple of seconds with my eyes closed, quip, "I know Hangul" - then proceed to sing a song in fluent Korean.

Instead I couldn't remember what a noun was, and got very annoyed when the book presumed I would practice on my own.

The good news is that my hair has begun to grow back!

Maybe my mom can learn the Hangul and just teach it to me.

I'll ask her when she gets back from buying my X-mas presents for my other family members.

Unconditional love means never having to say "thank-you".

All I asked for was a trim (#19)

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the best with hairstyles. Fans of My Hometown may remember my tribute to McDonalds with my "Golden Arches" haircut that I maintained for a few years - but lets not forget my crown of thorns, hair with a gigantic wave, hair parted at the side, bleached blond, buzz cut, shaggy wannabe Our Lady Peace hair, mullet hair, hair with zigzags cut into the side, messy spiky thorn hair, hair pasted completely back, and now, the mini-faux hawk.



I went to Toronto yesterday because I was going to catch a 5'ish train to Stratford to see Sophia. Of course they were sold out so I would have to wait for the 10:10pm train. Seeing as I had 5 hours to kill I decided it would be a good idea to get a quick trim, as my Faux-Hawk was starting to make me look more like a pansy-version of a Tribal Chief and less the pale Renaissance-man look I prefer. I thought it wise to delay getting my hair cut in Korea for as long as possible as my mangled Korean will most likely end up instructing a Korean barber to "take a little off my neck" - resulting in my decapitation and subsequent stint on YouTube (with some thoughtful Korean slurs inserted for color).

So walking along, I skipped a ton of stylists because they were too expensive (my range is about $15, so Magicuts or House of Lords is really my only option). I also didn't want to go to my usual guy at House of Lords because I made a big scene there about a month ago on how I was off to explore his home country for the next year, completely ignoring the fact that he had told me time and time again that he's Vietnamese. I've said "Hello!" to him in Korean a few times times and just assumed he was shy since he didn't say Hello back.



Alright, I'm babbling as usual so I'll move on. I end up standing outside this hair place scrutinizing the prices ("do I really need a bikini wax this time of the year?") trying to ignore the guy with bad hair standing next to me dancing a kind of "House-music salsa" by himself.

Niyoosha (the bad hair guy)- You gonna be my friend?

Me- I'd like that very much

Niyoosha- My names Niyoosha, its Persian for Listener. I'm Persian.

Me- My names Ken its the Irish-given name meaning hand-

Niyoosha- Alright Tim, grab a seat, and I'll fix this shit up (referring to my hair)

Me- How much will 'fixing this shit up' cost?

Niyoosha- $35 for everyone, but $30 for my friends. Free for Persians like myself.

Me- You guys make nice rugs

Niyoosha- Huh?

Me- So you're Persian!?

Niyoosha- I'm Babylonian.

4pm.

I sit down at the guys chair, admiring his bad hair in the mirror which is combed forward to cover his 80% bald head and flipped up at the front like a sad little wave. Briefly looking at my little chubby face I rationalized, "Okay this guys got bad hair, but he seems like a big clubber so he'll probably know what look I'm going for and missing.....but just in case I should explain it to him".

Me- I'm going to South Korea next week!

Niyoosha- You'll never get laid there, trust me.

Me- Oh...well my hair needs to stay this way because, you'll find this really funny, you need to use a headshot in order -

Niyoosha- you have to learn how to smell your prey.

Me- I've already started with my fingers! Now about my hair -

Niyoosha- Shhhh Shhh Shhh I got you Ben.

Next thing you know he asks what kind of music I like. So feigning a hipness I'll never achieve I replied very matter-of-factly "House!". Naturally, his eyes lit up and he launched into a carefully prepared explanation on how he (and other Persians) were at the fore-front of "house" music. Between his insightful and actually interesting history lesson about his experience in the DJ world he would punctuate each thought with an intense, "Know what I'm saying?" followed by a wide grin when I nodded and a shrill cackle when I replied, "I hear ya". Always expecting him to call bullshit any second and beat me up he explained why he chose the married life after sleeping with so many women:

Niyoosha- When you get it all the time - you get bored you know what I'm saying?

Me- Oh, I totally hear -

Niyoosha- You reach the top Kevin...you better learn to fly.

Me- (dismissively) I know that.

Niyoosha ignored this before moving into the philosophy and unique insight a top DJ like him requires - something you are born with (especially Persians because of their history). At this point he hadn't cut any of my hair but had used a lot of hairspray on it and combed it down while literally talking for 15-minutes straight in an unbroken monologue about things like creating a song with instruments I didn't know existed, the scene at the best clubs all over the world, changing a dancers heartbeat through his mixing, etc.

Niyoosha- (waving his sharp scissors in the air and staring at me in the mirror) You find the best dancer right? The one with the eyes shut, sweat pouring down, who's like "Bah Bah bah-bah-bah - tss tss tss" and you hold their heart in your hand (he would often launch into several of his own house beats to help me along, I nodded my head along to show I understood) - while the rest of the club works off him or her until you're all one. Soul. Know what I'm saying?

Me- I hear ya

Niyoosha- See, I'd take your- "I hear ya" and layer it with a quick static beat, "I hear ya...tit-a-tat-tit...I hear..hear ya...h-h-h-h-hear yaaaaa Bah bah bah-bah-bah-bah-bah". Mix in a Sorna horn, you know what I'm saying!?



I really can't do the whole incident justice trying to explain the whole hour and forty-five minutes it took to "fix my shit up" with my little blurb. He also decided that I needed to learn his Sex 101 class to the horror of the nearby stylists; made me acknowledge the oversized comb and "Bonika 7 Silk Mama" scissors he was using on me (for both are the "largest" in the stylist world); and how Gay people have different house music - in between the beats there is a 'moaning' sound mixed in to "get the homos going" (the poor gay stylist a few seats down didn't even bother acknowledging this) while "Dominators" like him (he didn't acknowledge me) hear a triumphant Horn blow between mixes- to convey the absolute power of the conquering man.

He went on through the entire history of Persia and how they invented everything from a 1000-strong Elephant army to the word Ambition, to the ancient Babylonians Kings (alluding to a prior life) conquering entire Kingdoms using only 10-men (and Elephants!), his temper, "2 years ago I'd punch you in the face and break your nose if you looked at me through that mirror wrong" (mental note- do NOT look in mirror wrong), and back to Sex 101 (rule #112- thou must rid thyself of the 'baby-hungry' woman minutes after the 'jobs complete').

The more I nodded my approval and the more the 15 other stylists nearby disapproved the more excited he got; the more excited he became the faster his scissors snipped; the faster the Silk Mama scissors snipped the more he had to use the hair dryer to blow my hair away.



I kept pulling at what was left of my hair to docilely signal to my new master that I didn't want anymore cut. He turned my chair away from the mirror so he could get right close to me with Silk Mama to impart his final and most important life lesson. This one was about the war and who will be the victors years down the road and why (hint- its not us)

5:45pm

After triumphantly announcing how I was ready to hit the clubs he smiled and stood very close to me remarking on how he and I didn't just talk today, we had a conversation. He ordered the girl at the front desk to give me his card - invited me to call him if I had any questions about House Music, Babylon or Women and strutted off.

When he was some distance away I slowly looked up to see my familiar fat little face staring back - but now, with his exact haircut.



I paid the $37 but declined to leave a tip (after making sure he was safely out of sight).

13 days to go...(#18)

Alright, starting to panic harder now. Only 13 days left.

I have yet to learn the Hangul, have forgotten how to say 'Hello' and haven't bothered learning any other phrases. It makes me too nervous so I watch TV instead.

My girlfriend's started to cry a lot more, my mom keeps making "lists" of lists, and I've begun to look at English signs with more appreciation than I ever have before. Looking at the SEARS sign today made me smile.

Spending Xmas and New Years with strangers is going to be pretty weird - hopefully I'll make some resolutions and actually stick to them this time:

1. Stop drinking my moms Vermouth when she is sleeping
2. Stop sniffing my fingers like people would sniff a fine wine
3. Stop wearing whatever new shirt I buy for the next 2 weeks straight and then never wear it again
4. Stop diagnosing myself with various diseases (right now I am worried about possible cancer in my left arm and jaw)
5. Read a book - don't just skim over the books jacket and assume I know the end
6. Get a life. This needs no explanation.

Yeah, I'm really in denial about leaving. My mom keeps suggesting I pack and repack my luggage, ensure I have all of the proper medication I need, checking and rechecking everything (do I need a Malaria shot? Yellow Fever? Travellers Diarrhea?). I have visited my doctor and he just said, "Don't get bit, don't get lit and don't eat shit". Mosquitos carry malaria, getting 'lit' (drunk) wouldn't be smart in a foreign country, and you can't eat the shit over there because it isn't filtered (so you buy it bottled?). A year is really starting to sound like a very long time.

It doesn't help my nerves when my mom suggests that...just in case! I get a 'will' done.

Okay...Travellers Diarrhea - check.

Unlike Spiderman, I no longer love Mary-Jane (#17)

A quick update for anyone who cares....I spent an evening last night with an old girlfriend of mine, Mary-Jane. Long story short- After being introduced to her in grade.10 through mutual friends, we dated (not exclusive) throughout high school. It got much more hot and 'heady' in University, as she was always showering me with compliments - telling me how creative I am, insightful, and very funny- Michael Richards/Kramer funny.

After I graduated the acting parts didn't exactly fall onto my lap, and since I had so much free-time to figure out some kind of game-plan, I invited Mary-Jane to hang out in the mornings and afternoons. She was very popular amongst my friends and still a pretty cheap date (if you could find her) - she made everyone laugh, reminisce about the 'old' days, and enjoy whatever food that could be found (her peer pressure once caused me to eat a whole jar of sauerkraut a few years back). But she knew I had become a lazy bum who just wanted her around to bounce ideas off of (e.g.-stereo speakers shaped like balls that are sticky enough to throw against walls and stick there).

It got to a point where after kissing her, even after just the tiniest peck, she would start berating me! - telling me to clean myself up, do my dishes, my laundry, a lot of "look how you live" comments. Sometimes she launched into tirades about how my "Spielbergian" visions for movies were in reality just long-winded rants that eventually linked back to the idea that started the rant in the first place. Worst of all, well aside from how she always managed to convince me that I was dying of some disease, was how she reminded me of the many insecurities I had, rather than helping me forget them.

Though it had been a great relationship in the past I broke it off (truth be told, she had gotten just too harsh and was a slut). We tried a "friend with favours" thing for a bit, but it always ended up with her pulling her old tricks. So I began a new friendship (a mentor/protege one) with someone far mroe abusive a smooth-talking liar named Jack Daniels. Jack may have made me feel strong at night, but come the morning I was weak-kneed and tired...just like a hooker.

So last night...when I was just sitting there...who came knocking? Some highlights:

1. Being reminded how leaving my womb in Canada scares the living hell out of me was unnecessary - if you could ask a baby why its crying moments after being born he/she would probably say "sure I was getting bored of the food in there, the view, the smell, and it was kind of cramped - but out here - I'm - I'm - wahhh!". Very much how I feel about South Korea right now. Less than 3 weeks left. 17 days. Waaaah!
   
2. You have to socialize out there with anyone and everyone. You can't live like a hermit and shy away from the world. You have to be uncomfortable to get comfortable. Waaah!
   
3. Mary-Jane, eyeing me as I carefully examined myself for the onset of various diseases and curious as to why my heartbeat had jumped 100-fold sweetly expressed the following couple of thoughts loudly and persistently:

• "Wow....imagine if the plane blew up, or crashed after take-off...or while landing!...or like, the weather up there gets pretty crazy right? And like, it's only a plane right? Or k, what about if you just completely freak out up there? What would happen? Crying would be the least of it. 1 year is a lot longer than you think Ken....Ken look at me!.....it's not like you're going to Disneyworld and if you don't like the ride you can be assured it'll be over in a minute or 2, no you have to wait...like a whole lot of minutes. Millions...Ken!.....just think about that k?"
• "Hey Ken, stop crying for a sec and listen k? Wouldn't it be crazy if your girlfriend got like a tumor while you were gone? Or your mom got one? Or your brothers microwave blew up and he needed your blood? Or he got hit by a truck? Am I freaking you out?! K I'll shut-up. What happens if you get Deep-Vein Thrombosis on the plane?! Or if your tooth chips during some turbulence? Your tooth always chips! I'm not trying to jinx you or like, give you bad karma k, I am just telling you that shit does happen. And South Korea is soooo far away. The dentist probably won't speak English."
• "No ones going to love you when you come back. Your girlfriend (if she's still alive) will have forgotten about you and everyone will think you've become a fat pig! A fat pig who can't act! No...no...a fat pig who can't act and will always live with his mom."
• "South Korea's totally not gonna solve anything, you know that right? Like, what I'm saying k?, is that when you come back (if you don't get fired for being a dumbass ESL teacher) you're gonna have to go back to a $9 an hour job. You know that right? Ken?! Hey, you know that right? Ken? $9? K, just makin' sure. Hey,why don't you touch me anymore?"
• "You're so in denial. Wow, you really are. And you will never learn a word of Korean. You couldn't even master grade 9 French. Tu est une idiot!".

Thats why I went to bed at 10 on a Friday night and vowed never to talk to Mary-Jane again. For real this time. She is cheap, stinky, and very paranoid...but at least she doesn't lie.