The Virgin Traveller - 365 Days in Ulsan

Day 72- Day 93

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sat, 06 Dec 2008 10:05:00 +0000

I'm writing this blog for no one in particular anymore, just so you know. If we can reflect back for a moment, all the way back to when I had even less a life than I do now (yes, 'tis possible), I updated this thing constantly and obsessively didn't I? Oh, I remember purchasing cheap bottles of wine whilst in Canada, or some much cheaper soju (after settling in Korea) and just sitting. Adequate that my ass would hold me up indefinitely, I would type and edit, type and edit for hours on end, occasionally pausing to either visit an all-night convenience store in Korea for some ramen or to nip a sip or 5 from my moms sad liquor cabinet (what kind of a mother marks her liquor bottles to dissuade her 28-year old son from having a nightcap, honestly?). Eventually I'd click 'Publish Post' thereby unleashing my fears, dreams, and observations onto the busy road of the internet in the hope that some similarly lost whiner out for a drive would either get out to pet, stroke, and love me or just run me over in a way they saw fit (my Dad beeped his horn at me by calling this blog 'boring' but I survived with only a broken heart and a hangover).

According to my sitemeter, where I can monitor how many 'hits' I get like the true needy blogger I am...90% of the people who visit my blog still find me purely by accident (like a prospector to gold I says) when they've entered the words, "Korean" and "Virgin" into Google. They stay, according to my voyeuristic sitemeter, for no more than 5 seconds or so, just enough time to scan quickly through my repetitive musings (in the hopes that perhaps I'd elected to fully embrace the clever pun of the blog title by adding some boobs) before surfing right back out into the ocean of the internet, constantly aware of the flaccidity tsunami that eventually well...drains life away!

I wrote that last entry about 45 minutes ago, because since then 'The Bourne Identity' came on TV. What an awesome movie. I wish I was Jason Bourne (sans the danger, bruises, and amnesia) just another regular guy with really cool skills.

Let me think of the ways I can compare myself to Jason Bourne. Just for fun:

1- We both speak different languages. While Bourne is fluent in several handy ones, I can barely mutter myself to work (most of the time the older Korean cab drivers are curt to me, quickly breaking my paper thin defense barriers before raping and pillaging my emotions.) Only love managed to scale Jason Bournes wall.

"I love you!" is Saron-Ay-yo (by the way!)

2- Jason Bourne once explained tersely (not to me unfortunately) that he could run flat out for half a mile before his hands began to shake. I ran to Domino's pizza the other day and had to pee in a nearby bush within half a mile. I'll have you know, I didn't shake either (dribbles apparently come out easier than lost memories).

3- Neither of us know what we are meant to do, but still we try (him much harder than I) to figure it out. He is being chased by agents and villains, whilst I am being doggedly pursued by father time. Eventually he'll catch me and punish me by taking my life (or reward me for you optimists!)...he'll take you too by the way (not Jason Bourne though who will live forever in the dreams of girls and some boys)

4- He gives a female companion $10,000 for a ride to Paris in the bitter cold, while a month ago I paid w10,000 to an old Korean woman so she'd drive me home! (she was also curt and most proficient in raping and pillaging said emotions)

Gosh, I just can't pay attention tonight (its Saturday evening here, so I should be larynx deep in Hite beer by now). I've spent the past hour and a bit watching The Bourne Identity and reading this great blog about the crazy sexism that Korea is all about.

http://thegrandnarrative.wordpress.com/category/korean-sexism/

Anyways, the guy who writes it really has hit the nail on the head - from the advertising, to the workplace, to the clothing choices. I'd give it a read, it'll give you a great perspective on Korea that usually I only hear from jaded feminists (who definitely know what they're talking about, but sometimes can't be taken seriously as the huge chips on their shoulders tend to poke me in the eye). By the way, I am not talking about you Liz so put the scissors back (better make a pot of coffee just to be on the safe side!)

So anywhoo - as I try to avoid staring compulsively at the never-stopping hourglass that is my life (that's not meant to be a morbid comment, just a poor 'dust in the wind' kind of musing) I know I have to stop being such a lazy asshole.

Its not fear anymore, its just plain laziness.

I'm surprised I even wrote a blog.

Day 39 - Day 71

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 00:27:00 +0000

Living in Ulsan has not been all its cracked up to be. Though I like my workplace and a large majority of the kids, I still yearn for the weekend like a prostitute yearns for warmer weather in the dead of Winter (and a better reference letter). The only problem is that when the weekend does roll around Liz and I are either sick with colds (the children love nothing more than coughing or sneezing in your face and then requesting a hug), stuck inside due to bad weather (acid rain here hasn't helped my Phantom of the Opera-like complexion), or at a loss of what-to-do without having to end up at some bar drinking bacteria-laden draft beer hours before you have to work all day with 4 and 5 year-olds.

As well over 2 months has already shot by, I keep telling myself in the mornings to write like a fiend when I get home at night so I have something to show Spielberg and his mates when I get back to the Western world...but alas, I always find myself sitting on my couch eating leftover curry and complaining of a 'tummy ache'. This ache is either the constant physical reminder that procrastination sufferers endure, or just that my stomach can no longer handle curry twice a day...lets hope its not the latter!

Here are some pictures from the recent Halloween Day our school had:

One of my absolute favorites on the left Alice - incredibly sweet and smart.

One of my favorite classes caught off guard (I didn't yell 'cheese') Dream class.

My favorite boy in the school Justin who has gone to the Netherlands for a few months.

Liz and I after a long night of drinking...no wait....usually, I look like the witch after so this must still be at the Halloween thingy.

My 'task' for the day was selling 'Zombie Food' to the monster children. They used IPS dollars they had earned over the past couple of months (for being good, speaking English, not defecating on the floor) to buy little treats served in a fey piratish-way by moi. An autographed picture of myself was offered for 200 IPS dollars, but I had no takers.

Liz in the middle of her task, explaining that game "Witches Body" where the children close their eyes and have to touch things from the "Witches Body". I balked at this and became extremely jealous until Liz explained patiently that though she is dressed like a witch, the children would in fact be touching food hidden in a box (like spaghetti for the witches brain, carrot sticks for the witches finger, my poo for the witches poo, etc.)

In other news Liz and I get vacation soon enough and I have been trying like mad to find a good spot to tan away my paleness once again. I believe we've settled on a spot in Indonesia called Gili Air, which is just off a huge island called Lombok in Indonesia. There are 3 islands that make up the "Gilis" and this particular one would be Simon (from Alvin and the Chipmunks) as it has a higher local population (thus more culture) and seems to spend more time reading than drinking. The other two islands Gili Trawangan and Gili Meno (Alvin and Theodore respectively) can be easily reached by speedboat. I had been looking at some places in the Philippines until after further research (and Liz loudly huffing and puffing over my shoulder) I discovered that a fair number of the guests (pictured in photos from the guesthouses websites) all seemed to have Filipina hired-women on their arms. With a little more digging I also discovered that many gave advice on how to "find" these "girlfriends" and how to pick the 'right' one. I know its everywhere (sex trafficking is Korea's 3rd largest industry), but if I can avoid having to endure conversations with a few pathetic middle-aged men and their 'teen' girlfriends-for-a-day than I will. For example, apparently there is a place called "Angeles City" in the Philippines that is almost exclusively for these kinds of patrons...although I am sure from past experiences that there are also many other identical "Angeles Cities" in all the other SE-Asian countries that survive on the money from these open-walleted, 'starved' tourists.

Another couple downsides to this possible destination is that Indonesia is 8 hours flying time away (making an expensive and time consuming flight), there is a great risk for boredom once snorkeling and reading are exhausted, and the food is mainly seafood (something that I don't mind but Liz is not a big fan of). Here is a quick link about the Gilis if you care to read more:

http://wikitravel.org/en/Gili_Islands

Trying to avoid the mass drinking culture this year has also seen me take up a new past-time of doing puzzles and playing board games.

HIP.............

HIP..............
HOORAY!!!!

And the most important thing is that I'm not doing it alone! 9 1/2 more months!

Day 4 - Day 38

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 10:41:00 +0000

Hi there!

Wow, its been well over a month since I've started my 2nd tour of duty in Korea. So much for updating this damn blog everyday eh? My laziness knows no bounds, and apparently no borders!

So whats been up with me? Well, I won't bore you with going over every single detail (from eating to pooping) like I've tended to do in my previous blogs. Instead I will just bore you with a rundown of how life has been treating me here in the Asian city of Ulsan, the Hamilton of South Korea (only Southern Ontario folk will understand that comment).

The school Liz and I work at is an actual kindergarten. Its not a hagwon run by a corrupt inept Korean businessaen who'd sooner open an orphanage-for-profit than a school (for corrupt orphanages look no further than Thailand and Cambodia built for those tourists who 'need to make a difference'). As it is a real school filled to the 3rd floor (the 4th floor is a roof surrounded on every side by high-rise apartments where the students mothers can monitor us constantly) packed with the wealthy children of Ulsan raised by soccer-mom Koreans, a teacher cannot get drunk and slag off like they would in a regular English school. Here, if you don't prepare your classes, not only do you quickly sink like a rock clutching your little ones (you all go down screaming) but you must then answer to your supervisors. These 18-hour workday Koreans will slice off your balls one by one should you not know exactly how you are going to spend each and every minute with these squealing bags of money. A person from the head office in Seoul even comes down to watch your classes and rip you to pieces with advice and notes designed to make you a better teacher (something I still never plan to actually be). In short, you must prepare and you must meet their expectations.

And you know what? That's exactly what a lazy, asshole like me needs. Last year, I wasn't abusive to the students, I barely yelled and never (rarely) came in drunk...hungover is different but I blame the soju and nightly peer pressure. What I never did though, ignoring all advice (yes mom, I am referring to your back country driving) was prepare. I would come stumbling in at 2pm, barely awake (I did just live across the street from my school), smelling of sleep and an assortment of the previous nights drinks, grab the 'teaching book' from the scowling Korean teacher - grunt "what page?!" as I skulked into the classroom.

Nothing good ever came from that. But still I did it. Within months I'd realized that once Hangman was offically dead (ba dum bum), photocopying "topical" word searches was the key. If a fellow teacher had done the same word search with the same class the day prior I simply told the hateful students to do it faster and "with even more English than yesterday!". God help me if the photocopier was busted that day, and God help the students too who would than be forced to stare at me for a full hour drawing crude penis-shaped drawings on the whiteboard before angrily erasing it...mumbling aloud, "elephants trunk looks like a damn penis again...why haven't these kids learned the word penis yet?! Make my job a whole ^%$lot easier! Uh-oh teacher just had another barf burp!".

I can't do that at IPS. But even if I could, I wouldn't. Even though I never thought it would happen, I actually am enjoying teaching the little ones...and wouldn't you be surprised to know that they are in fact improving day by day? As I may have mentioned in my previous blog, oh about a month ago, I am the primary English teacher for the year 6 students. Now saying that they are a 'Year 6' doesn't mean that they are in fact 6 years old, for as I am in Korea and they consider a newborn to be a year old the minute they "fly" out of the warm amniotic nest they are only about 5 in Canada. There are about 12 to each class and they get highly offended if you don't remember their names or if you don't praise them for drawing animals multiple colors. And boy do they get annoyed if you mistake them to be a "sweet little girl" when in fact they are a "boy".

I've only managed to do this once to a little chubby-cheeked, bowlcut-haired boy (who looks like a girl) whose name is Roy. I could never understand why he kept scowling and saying what I assumed to be "I love you!" in Korean whilst crossing his arms angrily. Until one morning a few weeks ago he came in and after brushing off one of my standard, "and hows my little princess today!?" lines I turned to Liz in a huff and haugtily declared that Roy was "one angry little girl". Liz laughed and surprised me with the fact that Roy was a Boy.

Boy was I surprised!

Anyways, though the work week is long and the pressure is on from 9-5 I am having fun and making more cash than I did last year. Knowing instantly that I love nothing more than adoring fans (even ones who poop themselves once or twice a week) I have become the main person who does the "morning announcements" everyday (nobody else wanted the job anyhow). I begin each "meeting" with a long "Goooooooooood morning IPS!!" a la Robin Williams in Good Morning Vietnam and talk slowly and clearly about everything from the weather to what movie I watched the night before and what I felt about it (teacher loved True Lies and was so surprised to see Jamie Lee Curtis was so beautiful with no clothes on!). Sometimes when another teacher is filling in, I am called in for special segments. Tomorrow for example, I must teach the kids our new Halloween song which is a modified version of Jingle Bells. Considering I often, albeit accidentally start off these modified songs about 3 octaves too high (from a rich base to a ball-crunching soprano) it usually makes for an interesting couple of minutes. Also, since we have to play some of the songs over and over again (easier if they are on a CD) I find myself singing the songs obsessively throughout the week. I've had many a teacher tell me to "shut up" because I wouldn't stop singing a famous Korean folk song called Arirang. If I ever have a movie of my life and there is a musical montage of my time in Korea, this would be the song I'd like played over it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCRR_4Gexm4 - this is a 48 second short version with words but no video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdzzzhdwcFU - this is a Korean dude playing the flute but with no words - I think it better captures the beauty of the song (yes, I am applying lipstick and ladies stockings as I say this)

By the way, Craig or Dan or Dad or Mom, can anyone guess what awesome 80's movie features this song (it is played throughout, though it changes a bit and is even hummed by one of the main characters whom I compared myself to very early on in my first couple of blogs back before I left for Korea for the first time?). Hint: who is the most awesome Korean movie character we know?

Since discipline is very important in our school I've managed to draw a good line between being a teacher and being a friend. The kids know (yet constantly 'forget') not to talk when the teacher is talking (or doodling), not to fight (action speaks louder than words I yell to encourage physical violence!), and to "sit nicely". This sit nicely thing has always cracked me up, for when the kids start crawling around (which would inevitably lead to one of them walking into a wall and crying bloody murder) all you have to do is bark, "sit nicely!" and the children will sit ramrod straight with their legs crossed and arms folded nicely on their little laps. One little boy though, a daydreaming boy named Jay who we were told to watch closely as he tends to rip his socks to bits if not monitored closely, refused to "sit nicely" one day and instead insisted on bowing like he was about to be knighted (head bowed, on one knee). I of course thought this was the funniest thing I've seen since I crapped myself a year prior, and rewarded his loyalty with a heavily-valued (and more stable currency than Canada) IPS dollar - which they collect with a rabid fervor to spend at the end of the month on a market day where I can guilt them into buying me candy.

Anyways, the class saw how I reacted to this little sock-destroying boy bowing like a brave knight and, knowing how impressionable I am, suddenly all began doing it with a gravitas usually only given to real Kings. Delighted that they would do this, I spent a huge chunk of class going through the militaristic drills of "sit nicely!", interchanged with "sit nobly!". Now, in front of any teacher, whether sitting in a line outside the auditorium or misbehaving in their classroom I can bark "sit nobly" and seconds later I have a band of tiny gallant knights. Some teachers laugh with delight, others frown in confusion (and jealousy).

Though it is highly amusing now, it will no doubt become a heartwrenching tableau when I must leave them in 11 months, when a new teacher replaces me.

I don't think I will teach the kids: The King is dead, long live the King!

"Sit Nobly!" will die with me.

Day 1 - Day 3

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sun, 21 Sep 2008 23:25:00 +0000

Hi there!

My goal was to update this blog daily - keeping it short and sweet with as little commentary as possible for the full 365 days I am contracted to be here...but alas, that just didn't happen and probably won't so here is just the first few days in a nutshell.

First of all...why go back? Wasn't a year more than enough you say? Well, having saved a fair bit of cash last year Lizard and I went traveling around southeast Asia for 6 weeks. We spent a day in Korea before making the long journey back to North America, land of the kimchi-free back in late March. A few weeks after settling at home we then high-tailed it to Europe for another 6 weeks and promptly blew what little money we had left. Liz bought tons of gelato, whereas I bought tons of beer and gelato. Returning home peniless, Lizless (she went back to the States), and lacking a CEO-worthy resume I floundered. Oh, how I floundered.

I drank martinis with my dad, whiskey with my older brother, beer with my twin, and all of the above with my mom (including lots of boggle). I traveled back and forth between Toronto and Michigan on the Greyhound to see Liz and her family and quickly depleted what little money I had left. And so began the handouts; mom paying for all food and life necessities, and my papa paying for dinners and other must-haves (a boy needs manicures). Always ready to accept charity my brothers also took me out for dinners and paid for them (giving me the doggy bags on my insistence).

You could say I looked like Martin Sheen at the beginning of Apocalypse now, but at least he eventually put clothes on and took a shower.

The only reverse culture shock I really experienced was how everything in Canada had stayed exactly the same...sure, I'd changed in my worldview but thats about it. The souvenir I'd brought home with me was one I hadn't expected, this being the absolute refusal to accept a minimum-wage paying job. If I was going to whore myself, I now felt I deserved more for it, as my Asian customers had spoiled me so.

Months later after accepting that procrastination was costing me (and my family) more than just my dignity I made the decision to give it one more year in Korea with the goal of saving cash.

After weeks of delays due to my own laziness and the ineptitude of the Korean embassy in Toronto I got my E2 visa on Thursday Sep. 4 and had a plane ticket booked for the morning of Friday the 5th.

Toronto to Chicago to Seoul to Busan. If all went according to plan (ie- the plane not crashing) it was to take about 23 hours from door to door.

Day 1 - Goodbye, oh Hello.

Having just booked my ticket the day before, I hadn't given my bowels the proper time to go through the 7 stages of "whats going on!!?" diarrhea so it was no surprise that I woke up that morning with cramps similar to having eaten an Indian dinner of Drano Tikka Masala the night prior. With my bags meticulously weighed and packed (thanks Mom!) and Liz holding me upright (I was freaking out) we made it to Pearson airport in time for my bowels to say a fond farewell to regular toilets for the next year (my thighs shuddered at the thought of the infamous squatter potties). Many things freak out a person moments before they are 'shipped out'. Sure I wasn't facing gunfire in Iraq or malarial bugs in Africa but I was willingly putting myself (well, my butthole) in the line of fire of dozens of ddongchimming schoolchildren - and thats scary enough. Bullet wounds eventually heal, but the mental anguish of being ddongchimmed lasts a lifetime. Even buckets soju can't squelch that violating fire.

Anyways, after a US border guard chastised me for writing "Busan" rather than "Pusan" on my destination card, and ignoring my voluntary hangul lesson (as it extended past his 6th grade education) Liz and I sat in the Chicago terminal waiting for the dreaded 13 hour flight on a Korean air jet. If you'll remember last time I took this trip back in Dec.06 I was seated about a foot away from the window (the plane angled right where I was supposed to be able to lean) on what could only be described as an airline folding chair. I vowed never to take economy class again but knew it was as boldfaced a lie as when I weekly announce to 'never touch the drink again'.

Imagine our surprise when we boarded the Koreanair flight only to discover we each had soft plush chairs with individual TVs loaded with 30+ recent movies, games, and TV shows. I clapped my hands excitedly like a special-needs child knocking apple juice on himself and others while settling in for the long flight (undoing my pants and removing my socks). I watched movies, drank the free wine they offered, wore the soft blue airline socks we were given, and got violentally angry at the onboard blackjack game (I tried swiping my VISA on the TV screen to no avail). The friendly airline attendant even offered to teach me how to eat my bibimbap dinner but I smiled smugly and told her there would be no need as I'd already lived and worked in Korea for a year. Before I could put on my corduroy jacket with the teacher armpatches she'd walked off leaving Liz to give me her "you're pathetic" raised-eyebrow look.

We ESL teachers never get the respect we feel we deserve, which is why the majority of us drink, blog, and feign an air of importance.

Long flight short - we made it to Seoul and balked at the familiarity of it all. All around us were the pushy ajummas with wide-brimmed hats and poorly matched clothes, the baby-faced machine-gun toting Korean soldiers who chatted merrily to one another, and the Konglish signs greeting the international travelers ("This is YOU to be happy in Sparkling Korea!").

Arriving late Saturday night in Busan (not Pusan like the fat racist US home security guard belched) we were greeted by Simpson, our friendly maniacally-driving Korean recruiter who welcomed us back with open arms and cigarettes. Moments into the hour-long drive into Ulsan Liz noticed that my eyes had filled with tears yet again. Not knowing whether it was due to the realization of being back for another full year, or if it was the crooning from the latest 'hit' Korean song that would no doubt be played for months on end Liz mouthed "its okay" over and over again. Sensing my fear Simpson regaled us with his continual fight with the Korean consulate in Toronto over the delay of my E2 visa (apparently he went so far as to tell them that he paid their salaries). So thats why they seemed to hate me so much.

Before the multitudes of neon signs could kickstart my epilepsy we had arrived in Ulsan. We pulled up behind a large white SUV, a similarly expensive car the singer R. Kelly would use time and time again for his portable pee parties and briefly met our new directors - a husband and wife team.

We followed them (too close in my opinion) through side streets and up hills, careening over drunk men and narrowly missing cabbage-toting ajummas. Bright hopeful lights from the 30-story high apartment buildings gradually dimmed as we drove deeper and deeper into the ghetto of Ulsan. Figuring that we were only on a short side trip to teach us the dangers of drugs I was not delighted to stop moments later at a 4 story high building that sat across from a small park with a metal dump next to it...our new home.

We lugged our luggage up the stairs and the stinging sensation from my tears got replaced with a burning in my calves. The smell of my new apartment was strong enough for me to make a quick and likely accurate visualization of the tenant prior to me. He was a lonely old, chain-smoking Korean man who died sadly on his toilet weeping with every inhale and moaning with every exhale. I was his replacement. Sigh.

The directors were nice enough (or non-informed enough) to have purchased some supplies for me which they began to rapidly put away. Simpson walked around the tiny apartment preaching its beauty and splendor with open-arms. He excitedly turned the apartments light switches off and on, marveling aloud at the miraculous invention of the incandescent bulb before he took me by hand to teach me the delicate and fascinating nature of the 'bidet' in the washroom. After what seemed like forever they departed with Simpson still announcing his plans to move into the unit across from mine, and I was alone. I wasted no time in curling into a fetal position and dreaming of a faraway Canada.

DAY 2

Liz and I lazed around all morning and ate the eggs the directors had purchased for us for breakfast. I used the bidet about 9 times too many before we elected to venture out of our maze-like neighborhood with only a vague understanding of where we lived. We almost wept with joy at discovering the local Starbucks and would weep further when browsing through a nearby grocery store, instantly missing the wide selection we had had back in North America. We got into a taxi and mumbled the always trusty "Emartuh ka jew say oh!" hoping that we would find all we would need at this venerable South Korean institution. After buying a few groceries and some hangers we hopped in another cab and tried another department store, hoping that it would get us in the vicinity of our area. 4 cab rides later, drenched with sweat and with several swear words exchanged we made it back home. We made a curry and felt instantly better and gassier.

Day 3

Simpson had explained to us the night we arrived that our director would pick us up for our first day of school on Monday morning, sometime between 8:15 and 9:00 - a nice 45-minute window. Having now gotten re-aquainted with the Korean accent I think he meant 8:50 and 9:00 - oh well. Anywhoo - he drove for a fair bit of time as I frantically tried to remember landmarks for when we tried to make it back solo. Knowing that there was a kimbap place near a cellphone store was useful in theory but anyone who travels here knows that kimbap places and cellphones stores are more plentiful than Tim Hortons in the suburbs of Toronto.

The school itself was created for the wealthy of Ulsan to send their tiny children for the day. Its not actually a hagwon but more an all-day prechool. Walking in the front door my eyes fell to the nearby closet packed several shelves high with hundreds of tiny shoes. A moment later I heard the pitter patter of the hundred or so slippered feet above me punctuated with several shrieks. So many shrieks. Before I could register what was going on a tiny Korean boy magically appeared in front of me. I waved hello to him and he shyly waved back. Turning away from him I had barely begun to walk to the teachers room when 13 or so kids circled around me. Saying "hi there!" and waving pathetically I feebly greeted the tiny children with as much courage as I could muster before high-tailing it to the safety of the teachers room. There, I met the resident teacher and all-around savior Josh who I would later learn was the sole foreign teacher of IPS having been abandoned months before by the two other foreigners. Looking tired but cheerful he tried to explain how the school works and handy survival tips but stopped short after seeing his every word fly clear over my head.

The head teacher Anne explained patiently that each class lasted about 1/2 an hour and that we had about 7 to do a day. We were to eat lunch in the staff room, which is provided to us by the friendly ladies who cook daily for every man, woman, and child in the building. Prep. is a 100% necessity in the school, as I would later learn, so every moment we weren't actually in class was to be spent getting ready for the next week.

Without boring you further I'll just say that although I sweat a fair bit that day and met dozens and dozens of 5-year olds with untapped energy I did survive, and the majority of the kids were far cuter and more pleasant and eager than any of the children I'd taught before. Poor Liz was given the youngest kids (about aged 3-4) so I felt worse for her. I was given the responsibilty and title of "Language Arts" teacher and "Math" teacher, so we'll see if the kids ever learn to count past 10. The children's English is actually better than my prior students at GnB, who would just dribble ramen out of their mouthes and babble incoherently when I greeted them. I was exhausted by the end of the day and felt very guilty with the amount of paper we use daily to keep them entertained but I don't mind sacrificing a tree or 7 if it saves the kids from physically attacking me.

Josh took us out for galbi that night and the taste of cold soju actually felt good. The jetlag was present but not as crippling as it had been last year.

Bedtime was, and remains early as the morning seems to come pretty damn fast.

More later, bedtime now.

Go on, sniff it. Smell familiar? Like perhaps...kimchi?

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 01:47:00 +0000

Liz mentioned to me the other day that aside from an obvious finger-sniffing addiction (if there is an orifice not yet discovered...oh watch out orifice...WATCH OUT!), that I may also have punctuation problems. I tearfully explained that since few read this anymore or ever have, that there was no harm done and would she please go make me a sandwich. As a former editor (not of Tiger Beat magazine, I asked already) she painstakingly took my last blog apart and edited my literarily sinful words, correcting when necessary and adding proper punctuation throughout. So you know what I did instead of appreciating her attempt at helping me improve myself?

Thats right! I watched Beverly Hills Cop! Good guess!
It's hard to believe Eddie Murphy was only 23 when he filmed this awesome, life-changing movie (I decided to wear hoodies and jeans for the rest of my life). Yet here I am at 28 and enjoy poorly pasting my face (here, covered with poo) onto old movie posters. Sigh! I wish more movies today used theme songs like films from the 80's did.

You see, when I don't do anything I get really bored and feel quite useless. Blogging, regardless of how few may read it must make a person feel a wee bit, validated? Almost like just the thought that someone cares about what you are doing, or what you say is enough to not feel 100% useless....maybe just 99% . With a blog you can visualize an audience and use the possibility of them for fuel (or food for thought?), where you can't do that with a diary. I suppose at its most basic, its wanting reassurance versus not wanting it. I don't know. I have 4 diaries but all are mostly empty (not mostly full), so what the hell does that say about me!? You know what, its not so much that I feel like I want someone to say "you're not useless Ken!" so much as I'd like a voice to justify my uselessness, "Ken! Look at yourself! Can you blame yourself for doing so little!? Gimme a hug!".

I'll be the first to admit I don't have anything of real 'importance' to say, at least not here. Forget subjectivity...ask me about the Sudan and I'll ask if its a sequel to something (some would call that comment 'wrong' others 'insightful') and don't bother looking for anything remotely philosophical, or at least 'good' philosophical stuff (for an example of 'bad' reread the last paragraph) as you're more likely to find a guy with no limbs applying cream to...I don't know where this is going. Geez, that analogy died faster than Princess- no - no, stop right there!

Anyways, wrapping my philosophy bit up: If Plato is mentioned anywhere here, its probably in regards to the fact that I ate some earlier this afternoon to test its no-toxicity theory (and as a child-safe suicidal cry for attention). Get it? Plato and play-doh? Oh, go to hell. It was funny in my head.

And thats all that matters! Hurrah!

Hey! If you'll recall, the last time I pasted my disembodied head anywhere on this blog was well over a year ago. Remember? Way back when? As in when I was nervously preparing to leave for Korea the first time, back in October, '06?

Coincidence? Yeah, and my fingers don't smell funny.

Yes, good ol' Liz and I are preparing a return to the ROK for one more round. I tried to do the minimum-wage thing here, okay well, I didn't exactly 'try' at all. But you see, after all the traveling was said and done, my bank account contained more moths than my fathers bedside condom-box; was emptier and less-used than his 'love-swing'. So what's a man/boy to do?
We're using the same recruiter we did last time but are considering working in a different city for more money and more perks (I get to touch the children legally!). Obviously I'm kidding...sure, the children can touch me all they want but I will be there strictly for: teaching the names of bizarre zoo animals (spotted pygmy llamaphant), offering tasty pizza toppings they may have never considered (cotton), and utilizing my ivory complexion when I err ("Look, I'm white so do I really need to know what an adverb is or can we just go sing in a noraebahng and live a little?").

It's also a much easier and more profitable way for Liz and I to be together for a full year so we can work side by side on a plan while there, which was something the both of us refused to concern ourselves with until the instant we touched down on North American soil this past March and quickly experienced the very visceral, all-too-real, punch-in-the-kimchi-filled-gut realization that working overseas doing ESL was much, much, easier than trying to make careers here and now. I bow to all the former ESL teachers who went and came back again but refused the allure to become 'lifers' or 'several yearers' and are continuing to 'truck it' regardless elsewhere. Now now, obviously many people have good legitimate reasons to do it year by year (any more than 5 though, c'mon) - they may have married over there, are paying off massive debt, are trying to perfect functional alcoholism, or just want to see the world and experience first-hand (a very brave thing to do) a very different culture.

Or maybe they were just like me, who after flipping their resumes over and over again, hands trembling, frantically searching for something substantial, anything - finally cried aloud weeks later, 'there must be more in here, there must be! I can't go back to minimum-wage! I'm worth more! I've seen it! More!!!'.

Thats when I decided that going overseas yet again, once more, was indeed okay - so long as there was a goal to be worked towards for the year.

And the time will rapidly arrive (in precisely one year) where I will need to hunker down and actually work hard...where I'll have no choice but to give way to the anxiety, and the fear, and the diarrhea from the food that I'm sure is poisoned by my mom so I'll leave her couch once and for all, and of course, the not-knowing but doing it anyways.

I'll be mailing everything off to my recruiter tomorrow and will most likely be overseas - again - within a month.

Thats enough for now, that reality show with the guy from Poison is on...I wonder if I could do that (win his love, not be in a rock band)

The Philippines.

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 16:54:00 +0000

This morning, whilst laying languidly (or languidly laying) on my mothers couch, dripping with sweat due to my ineptitude with the air conditioner hampered by my theatre-acting degree sans doctorate in air conditioners - and my own laziness which I attribute to being breast-fed well into my teens (one is offically a teenager at 18 in Canada correct?) I recalled procrastinatorally that I never wrote about my trip last December to the Philippines with Lizzle. Coincidentally, I have nothing to do with my time yet again (notice the building frequency of the blogs and the recent picture below) so I thought, 'heck, why enjoy a summers day happy and healthy OUTSIDE when I can sit and be gloomy and sweaty INSIDE?

My mom and I on a recent Saturday field trip to the laundromat. During my impromptu photo shoot to demonstrate my new $3 tripod I caught my mom anxiously reading the latest how-to from Tides Detergent Non-Fiction Publishing: "How to clean child fudge stains when no fudge has been eaten." Hint: Tide won't do it.

So, the Philippines.

Lizzy and I had been dating for a few months now, and after deciding to go on vacation together when we both had the time off we settled on an early December flight to Manila, Philippines. I knew nothing about the Philippines before we bought the tickets - only that Muhammad Ali once fought there and that it was near the equator. As I preferred lying in my own vomit to that of other travellers we opted to find a spot off the beaten track; a destination as of yet devoid of mass tourism, high prices, and 'sexy' massages...that place turned out to be El Nido- an increasingly popular tourist destination situated in the northern tip of the province of Palawan.

Having done my research by refusing to socialize with others on Friday evenings I contacted the one travel agent/coffee supplier/tourist outfit/breakfast place located in El Nido and arranged 2 seats on the 15-seater propeller plane that would get us from Manila to El Nido. The flights alone had now cost us over $1200 each (return from Busan to Manila, and return from Manila to El Nido). Expensive, but hey, I'm poor now!

A little fact- El Nido is the name of the small fishing town which is the primary jumping off point for the Bacuit Archipelago (unless you are one of the wealthy who can shell over big bucks to stay in one of the two exclusive resorts allowed to set up shop on one of the archipelagos islands). The archipelago has a ton of islands consisting of tall, jagged limestone cliffs poking up everywhere like the acne on my back and lagoons with water so clear and blue you'd think you were looking into my eyes. Many people compare it to Ha Long Bay in Vietnam and Phi Phi in Thailand, having never been to either I'll just have to take their words for it- even though they are most definitely wrong. The 50 or so islands have NO inhabitants other than howling monkeys that guard coconuts (more on that later), no electricity, white sands, etc. It is Lord of the Flies out there. El Nido town, only has electricity for a few hours in the evening - and forget flush toilets - its manual out there.

Directions: Keep pouring little blue cup filled with water from poo bucket over poo until poo goes away. Wait for a few minutes to ensure poo doesn't float back up as it is apt to do. Note: nearby plunger is for decoration and will only succeed in getting poo water on your bare feet.

As you know, I hate doing research on places I've been too as the facts rarely include information about me. For example, did you know that if I sleep on my back I often have nightmares?

So with our identical bags packed, my head shaved due to a recent Britney Spears-like breakdown, and tickets in hand we bid adieu to Busan for 10 days and boarded our flight to Manila. Naturally, we were on a chartered flight filled entirely with recently married Koreans so aside from matching honeymoon clothes (the theme was 'cherry' red by the looks of it), the odor of red-pepper paste (supplied by the thinking-ahead people at Philippine Air), and the silence broken only by the occasional Korean female screams whenever the plane hit tiny bumps of turbulence (followed by a quick 'if you make me lose face just ONCE more new wife...' from their sympathetic life partners) - we were on our way.

My nerves had increased alongside the temperature (freezing in Busan, Korea - hot and sticky as Satans breath in Manila) when we sauntered several hours later into the Manila International airport - it wasn't the Philippines landing card that I noticed had "Death to all Drug Traffickers" for all to see that freaked me out so much as I just didn't know what to expect or how to conduct myself in the first tropical place I'd ever been to (was I now permitted to order Liz to carry my stuff?).

Since our flight to El Nido was in the morning we opted to stay for one night in the 'luxurious' (definitely their words, not mine) Manila airport hotel. The flights to El Nido are very few and far between so we had to construct our vacation around their very tight schedule. The hotel tourist 'specialist' Danny was waiting for us that evening when we emerged into the sticky night air. Grasping my amazingly sweaty palm and slapping me on my clenched buttocks Danny grinned and asked us to wait in the airports scary, dingy taxi pickup spot as he went and got the minivan parked far enough away that he wouldn't be able to hear me scream (coincidence? or just poor timing?). Trying not to show my nervousness (clenched buttocks, wide eyes, and hives) and with increasing worry that we were both moments away from being kidnapped (or kennapped if you will), I quickly reverted to my acting training and began rehearsing quietly -just out of Liz' earshot- the only Filipino I had bothered to learn, "I don't know the white girl but please accept her as my gift".

Needless to say, we arrived 'safely' at the hotel which was as sketchy inside as it was out. With Danny still protecting us (me) we walked briskly through the hotels darkened parking lot (with me now suspecting that Danny had set us up somehow with nearby locals to rob us). The parking lot had no cars but was filled with homeless children mouthing to us with their hands that they were hungry (the KFC attached to the hotel was a cruel reminder of capitalism at its finest) and guys drinking warm beer (warm?!). We (well, I) ran into the store where a money exchange place acted like a light to moths for robberies in my little dangerous world. We exchanged our money into an obscenely large wad of pesos (I had now become the bright light, everyone else moths- including Liz) with this tired-looking woman sitting behind wooden bars in the corner of the store - a gun within easy reach. Money clutched tightly in my hand (my money belt safely tucked where the sun has yet to shine) we made it back to our hotel alive, thanks to Dannys courageousness and Liz' bravery. I cursed myself for being dumb enough for not having bothered learning the exchange rate - something I still do with an irritating consistency.

So having survived the money exchange and thinking very much like James Bond (a thing I tend to do when feeling inadequate and confused which also proved to be my bane in Thailand) I began generously rewarding my recently-acquired pesos to anyone in the hotel who had aided us in any way since our arival 20 minutes prior- from our tour guy/body guard Danny to the woman who plugged in the tiny empty hotel fridge to the bored guy who carried my bag. After I slapped a bill (again, not knowing the exchange rate) into his surprised palm (if a hand could be surprised) Liz said he walked away with a gigantic grin on his face. Without knowing, I probably had just given him a weeks salary. I made a mental note to add 'philanthropist' to my resume..I figured my ignorance had bought me that right.

Wouldn't you know? My bed had blood spots on it! (had one bed bug recently murdered another bed bug in cold blood?)...so I slept fully clothed in a self-contained burka I had designed out of t-shirts and dirty underwear (when in Rome).

The next morning the blood was still there, as my frightened tears aren't so much stain removers as they are pity-inducing. The hotel shuttle we had ordered never arrived so Lizzle and I jumped in a cab and managed to get to Manila Domestic Airport where we beat back the waiting sweaty crowds of locals, went through the manual metal detectors (bored airport employees patting you down like police) and after eating at the worlds most random 'Cinnabon' boarded our tiny plane that was unpressurized (the pilots had their windows open, arms dangling out) and smelled like the backseat of my families old Volkswagen Beetle (where I assume I was conceived along with my twin brother Dan).

At the back of the plane. Terrified to fly but excited to be on vacation. Yes Trish, I am wearing my red travel t-shirt that you've seen many times before.

The flight attendants weren't nervous as there wasn't room for them on the plane. One came aboard and gave us a quick evacuation procedure ("die quickly as drowning sucks") before wishing us well and handing out small chocolates (Liz ate hers before they locked the doors).

Man, am I long winded. I haven't even gotten to El Nido yet and already this particular blog entry is too long! Shoot. Well, onwards and upwards - the flight was scary but afforded some great pictures...

High atop Manila

The 2 hour ride revealed gorgeous islands that I will never be able to own, much less visit unless someone pays me lots of money to do what I do best- whine!
I would settle for any island around here - small or large - beggars can't be choosers.
So after landing briefly in Coron (another popular spot) to drop off some passengers not bound for the most beautiful place on earth - we shot off their little gravel runway, only to land on our dirt runway in El Nido about 1/2 hour later. The departures terminal consisted of a few hammocks and a lunch table. I was beyond excited.
Landing in El Nido.

Next stop: El Nido town!

Long time no blog eh?

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 19:54:00 +0000

As my friend Court so dutifully pointed out whilst camped out far below ground in his parents basement, my last posting on this dusty public notepad many months ago can only be compared to my facial hair - sparse and pathetic. Wasn't Star Trek an awesome show?
Where does one begin after such a long, eventful (and uneventful) year?

Okay, well to begin with - I'm home back in Canada...for now.

This was a picture taken the night before I left for Korea back in 2006 - funnily enough, my frightened face remains exactly the same whilst my mothers grip has gotten remarkably stronger.

So, even though I plan to write an individual blog for each country I visited and what I did in each (defeating Mt. Fuji for example LIZ) - as I no longer really write for anyone but me and my memories thank you very much (for my 'visitors' now remain strictly family, Court and occasionally perverts worldwide who Google "Korean" and "Virgins" in the same search and unexpectantly, to the detriment of their wieners, wind up staring me in the face.)

Not so much like David and Goliath but you get my point.

So as an intro. the countries I've been to since first leaving Dec.21/06 are as follows:

South Korea, North Korea (for a few seconds), Japan, China, the Philippines, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, the Netherlands, France, Italy, Austria, the Czech Republic, Poland, and Germany.

I'd only been in South Korea for a week or so and Kevin had me trying to hit on Korean Soju bottles. I didn't get her number, but I did get a taste of her! You see, in South Korea - they give out free booze right there on the streets!

A few months down the road I made my way up to the DMZ with my trusty sidekick Kevin - fun times were had by all, except for the South Korean DMZ soldiers who have to stand there all day staring into the unblinking North Korea!

Unification shumification I say!

After deciding not to go on vacation with me to Japan but insisting I still go with her friends, my co-worker Blake inadvertently (to my knowledge) set me up with this tasty little dish standing next to me at the Golden Temple in Kyoto. Smile Liz!

In early October with my other sidekick Courtenay 'Maurice' visiting me, I went on a massive tour group trip to Beijing. It was a fun time, but no more tour groups. Waste of money I says!

The Philippines. Favorite trip so far. Cheap food, away from anything and everyone (except a ladyboy who parades as a server in the little town of El Nido and a whole lot of monkeys). The Bacuit Archipelago is a mecca for people who want islands all to themselves, with NO power and NO people whatsoever.

We saw these beauties parading down the street in Koh Samui, Thailand. Party on ladies, but for everyone else go to the Philippines - Thailand kinda disappointed me.

I met this friendly baby elephant when Liz and I took a trip with Tiger Tours (a very ecofriendly, and thusly expensive) tour group out of Luang Prabang, Laos. The baby elephant hated our tour guide Lee who was in love with Liz, who I am in love with. So who loves the baby elephant? Everyone! (except Lee)

Cambodia. A hauntingly beautiful country with a horrific past that is all around you all the time- the genocide ended about a year before I was born. We spent a couple days in its capital Phnom Penh and the remainder of our Asia trip in Siem Reap - a tourist mecca.

Click on the picture, I am waving in a doorway at the very top. This particular temple was far steeper than the picture can show. Thats right, I'm heroic.

Amsterdam! We flew in, sleepwalked for a day - and came back for a day at the end of our European trip. I'd go back again if I had more time and way more money.

Paris. Thanks to a canceled Ryanair flight (read more in the coming Paris blog) we spent about 6 days in the 'most romantic city on earth'. Expensive as hell, but great nonetheless.

Italy! We spent about 2 weeks here and visited Cinque Terre, Florence, Rome, Venice, and Modena. Cinque Terre might be the most beautiful place I've ever been.

Here I am eating Schnitzel in Vienna. I had a heart attack soon after this picture was taken. I didn't come close to finishing the schnitzel, but the beer went down oh so smooth. Like a Viennese' babies ass, but fizzier.

Czech Republic. Here I am in this gorgeous Eastern European country moments away from drinking the most vile alcohol (aside from soju) known to man: absinthe. The server dispensed with the whole absinthe with sugar ritual and just gave it to me straight up. Attempted murder I says! We visited Prague and a sweet little town called Cesky Krumlov.

The Polish concentration camp Birkenau (also known as Auschwitz 2). I also went to Auschwitz itself. We spent about a week in Krakow visiting Liz' friend Adam who teaches ESL there. Great place (Krakow, not the concentration camps)

Berlin! Here we are on one of our last days standing in front of a 1.3 km stretch of the Berlin Wall. Berlin was gorgeous...even if my facial hair was not.

Not a bad year for a guy scared to challenge his own shadow to a fight.

If you'll recall my last blog, it saw me surrendering my newly discovered manhood to a manish Korean monster whom I dubbed Samnu. I worked at a well known Korean hagwon for some extra cash at the end of my original contract, and would not have made it more than a month- for Samnu was evil and I pity all who have worked, and still work for this patronizing, dull, ugly demon-like Korean lady.

But once the money got into my hot little hands I ran as fast as my skinny legs would take me, fueled by the indescribable glee one feels when having had their cake and eaten it too (long story). I was finished with Samnu (but one testicle less), my furniture had been sold, and I was a week away from leaving the land of Korea for good in search of warmer, and more inviting climates, namely: Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia.

It was a stressful last week for Liz as well, as she had to work right up until the day we left for our 6-week adventure. Being a lazy couple that would prefer to drink coffee while rehashing old arguments rather than plan an itinerary, we only knew that we'd be flying into Bangkok and needed to end up there 6 weeks later. When the occasional (and rightful) doubt of 'wait-a-sec, should we plan at least a little bit?' entered my alcohol-laden, bankrupting dreamland factory employed with angry sullen workers of a brain- Liz would just smile, roll her big ol' blue eyes up to the sky and say 'whatevs!'. Assuming she was simply being bohemian and not a lazy poopstick as I would later realize I too opted to be adventurous, declaring aloud for no one in particular that I too would take it day by day - a way of life I sought to live by upon leaving Canada...but never fully realized for my year and a bit in Korea.

A minor snag occurred when the ever-busy-Lizzy confessed to me one morning as I busily cleaned her bathroom (knowing that I was busy working on my Liz doll she graciously allowed me to collect any clumps of hair I found) that her passport didn't have enough spare pages for her to get into Thailand with. Hiking up my dress, and gently applying some aloe to my whipped back I offered to take an overnight train into Seoul...because thats what heroes do. I was greatly saddened upon learning that cold evening that every seat was booked and I'd have to stand between train cars with other freezing Koreans (it was February) for 7 hours as the train slowly crept through the cabbage-producing farmlands of Korea. I arrived in Seoul before the subway opened at 5am and witnessed, through the protective glass of a McDonalds, a bumfight!

You see, in Seoul train station dozens of the cities homeless are allowed to sleep on the benches inside, provided they don't cause trouble (ie- peeing on each other or in nearby garbage cans). Well apparently one crazy homeless guy didn't see the 'Bumb Rules' on the wall as he began tweeting this little plastic whistle I can only assume was his 'rape' whistle (he probably suddenly realized that cold morning that the whistle would never be used for its original intent). So to everyones annoyance, and his delight, he blew it as loud as he could while marching around like a 3rd Reich solider for several amusing and non-violent minutes...until another irate homeless guy began pushing him to shut him up (or rape him). Before myself and the many other sleepy Koreans sandwiched up against the McDonalds window could clap along, the crazy whistle-bum suddenly grabbed the irate bum by the neck and flipped him to the ground, quickly straddling his neck with his calloused bum-knees, effectively locking him in place. He blew the whistle a few more times (it was still in his mouth you see) before he violently grabbed the now-not-so-irate bums neck and began to choke him while slamming his head hard against the ground, like it was a dirty pinata filled with more whistles (and perhaps a few tiny airline bottles of soju).

I was about 50 feet away, munching away on my sausage and egg mcmuffin, and I could hear his skull cracking against the stations floor. Thankfully, a few other nearby homeless came to the now unconscious mans rescue by pulling the whistling murderous bum off of him before his brain fully turned to mush. As the bum with the whistle walked off tweeting triumphantly, and the irate man lay unconscious (he sat up about 5 minutes later) the show was over. I paid for another coffee and made my way to a nearby squatter potty for a post-fight diarrhea caused by nerves, excitement, no sleep, and too much caffeine (I imagine its how Batman finishes his day as well).

Bums were washing themselves in the sinks, shaving, and combing what hair they had left so I knew that another day in Seoul had begun. Strangely enough it was the same night the famous Namdaemun gate in Seoul was burnt to the ground by an old-man arsonist angry with the government. Anywhoo, back to my squatter story- with quads as weak as a New Orleans dyke I spent no longer than necessary on the squatter potty and made my way to the US embassy, which was an arduous process that involved me standing outside in the freezing cold for an hour, falling asleep in the waiting room, and getting back to Busan in the evening clutching Liz' passport (now heavier with 10 newly stitched-in papers). I assumed it would be my last visit to Seoul.

That may not be true anymore.

Next stop: uh....Thailand? Or maybe Japan - I dunno - whichever country I haven't written about yet.

snow place like home

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 14:47:00 +0000

Home now. One more blog to follow.

And maybe another down the road.

Whats the important thing?

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 01:23:00 +0000

That's the important thing.

After a somewhat grueling month-long job I had accepted since I couldn't get a winter camp (twas' 'grueling' because I had to take the subway to work as opposed to stumbling lazily across the street like I had for the past year) I am officially unemployed. My teaching career is now, for the time being and to the relief of many, hung to dry indefinitely (a la Saddam Hussein). I didn't become the professor I envisioned myself to be, an inspiring motivator the students craved (I was more like Alec Baldwin delivering the ABC speech in Glengarry Glen Ross - but with more swearing). I never once bothered to reveal my thoughts about English teaching to the young eager minds a la Robert Duvall in Apocalypse Now:

"You hear that? Do you hear that? English, kids. Nothing else in the world sounds like that. I love the sound of English in the morning. You know, one time I had a class of 13 elementary children, for one hour speaking only Korean. When it was all over I looked up. I didn't hear one of 'em, not one kimchi lovin' body speaking English. The sound, you know that tired exhale after failing to please a woman in bed, the whole classroom. Sounded like... failure. Someday this class is gonna end..."

So now I've got 2 weeks to write the great American novel, correspond with my grandparents, and mentally prepare myself for coming back to Canada. 'They' call it reverse culture-shock. Suddenly everyone speaks English, no one stares at you wide-eyed anymore, there are products galore to satisfy any craving, everyones a little older - and life is pretty much exactly how you left it, albeit with a thin layer of dust waiting to be blown off by the familiar "Oh man, what do I do now?" anxious sigh. But, I am still much farther ahead now than I was so many months ago.

And that's the important thing.

The woman who had hired me back in late-December for this month-long job was unfortunately one of those people who would have to undergo serious sensitivity-training were they in any position of power in Canada. I could tell before I actually started the job that we would not mix well as she was obviously someone who loved the dominating power of her job (whereas I live my life like the noble monkey who immediately 'presents' itself ass-up when feeling remotely threatened). I'd even heard from others that the school was on several 'Blacklists' for this sole reason. A girl I know in my neighborhood who was once employed there warned me, "Laugh at everything she says- especially when its mean-spirited- never talk back, and act like shes the greatest thing since scrambled eggs". I was worried and frightened but like the crack-addicted prostitute who wearily pulls on her well-worn, knee-high pink stiletto boots, who is well-versed with the 'dance for me monkey!'-like humiliations that come with the territory...I too needed the money.

And that's the important thing.

Since I was a 'teacher' hired only for the winter intensives, my classes were small and filled with a huge amount of material to be thrown at the kids, oblivious to their plaintive cries of "teacheruh...no understanduh!", and "teacheruh...one game puhleazeuh? I forget the sound of my own laughteruh!" (accent on the 'uh'). I was to be on a different schedule than the other 7 foreign teachers but as the majority of Hagwons basically operate the same way, I knew where I ranked the second my foot stepped in the door.

The order of importance in an average ESL hagwon falls like this:

1- The owner (usually the director as well)
2- The manager (the villain of this tale)
3- The head Korean teacher
4- The Korean teachers
5- The ajumma (older, tough Korean woman) who often prepares lunch for the students and appears in their nightmares.
6- The bus drivers
7- The head foreign teacher
8- The students (also operating under their own strict hierarchy)
9- The photocopier
10-The guy who fixes the photocopier daily
11-The foreign teachers (the men above the women)
12- The communal slippers
13- The temporary (being paid under-the-table) foreign teacher.

So on January 2nd, I showed up an hour early and donned the communal slippers tossed carelessly in the corner (next to the garbage). Excited at the idea of wearing slippers at work I made a mental note to pack my Ms.Kitty pajamas for the following day.

I also wore my new glasses as if to say, "don't you DARE make me take these off".

After brief introductions to the awe-struck Koreans milling about (I had coiffed my faux-hawk to a staggering height that very morning) I got the gist of what I was expected to do, confirmed how much money I was to make (while instructed under penalty of death not to reveal this amount to the harder-working foreign teachers) and received my schedule. It was a surprisingly easy one; only 4 hours each day, with 45 minutes alloted for each class and a 5-minute break in between for me to run back to the small closet where 13 teachers are crammed like...well, clowns!

So I 'taught' and took my 'breaks' according to the schedule and tried to draw as little attention to myself as possible. Knowing that I was not under any contract and constantly worried that my fare would jump out of the cab before paying me, I didn't slack off. I usually spent the 5 minutes between classes trying to understand the new course for 'higher-levels' that the hagwon had recently purchased (but not fully paid for). It was designed by a young American guy from a company up in Seoul and my hagwon decided to test it with me and some younger guinea pigs. The intensive course was designed for middle-school children and was broke up into segments for debating, presentation skills, essay-writing skills, analytical thinking, and critical reading (I thought this meant that the kids were to read with furrowed brows).

Naturally my class was unable to complete full sentences, much less write an essay causing me to fall instantly behind the absurdly structured schedule. After about a week of panicking and acting like everything was going wonderfully ("little Lily wrote the most wonderful thesis woven from the Harry Potter novels titled "Hagrid- Pedophile or Platonic?") I was forced to present my problems, a la timid monkey, to the evil manager who I will refer to as Samnu (not her real name - but in fact the name used for Satan in Central-Asia). To make a long blog short, she accused me of being inept and stupider than I appeared. She indicated this by merely looking at her co-workers, hands in a 'why me?' gesture while raising her painted-on eyebrows rapidly (like she was trying to quickly dry them). It was looking to be a long month. But at $30 an hour - I was willing to put up with it.

And that's the important thing.

So as you may have gleaned from this, I felt a little stressed at times and needed that 5-minute break like a toilet requires flushing. Although since I was the 'outsider' I watched when and for how long I took these breaks, as Samnu would often burst into the teachers room unannounced (having nothing to do) before condescendingly crying "teachers, you have classes to teach!". I was always careful, but one day either due to my fault or Samnus own faulty internal clock (I fear for whoever she is dating when her biological one starts beeping) disaster struck. Apparently I had left one class 3 minutes early and was summoned to Samnus lair (follow the bones) where I was chastised and berated in front of the constantly-present, awe-struck Korean teachers (like a scared dogs tail my faux-hawk was rapidly drooping to their amusement). Samnu ranted and raved about how she doesn't appreciate 'her' teachers abusing break privileges, not following 'her' schedule, 'abusing' the students time (as opposed to just 'abusing' them) blah blah blah. It actually became pretty comical for all as every time I tried to walk out after muttering "so sorry" she would pause a moment and mentally gather, chew, swallow and re-vomit the same diarrhea she had just spewed at my reddening face moments before. When she had finally finished, she licked her lips greedily and ordered me to "go" as I was now "late for my class.........again".

Wait...late....again?! I thought I had left early and that was the problem!

But I needed the cash more than I needed my dignity - as self-respect cannot be exchanged for hard cash as easily as US dollars when traveling. 'I am doing this to travel' I reminded myself.

And that's the important thing.

So all was quiet on the Eastern front for a week or so until one day I squeezed my way into the cramped, clown car/teacher room only to see the teachers cowering in the backseat as Samnu was stretched out lazily in the front. Upon seeing me, she stood up and we had this conversation - ver batim.

Samnu- I'm sorry Ken, did you forget the talk we had last week already about lateness?

Ken- (holding my books tightly and my bowels even tighter) Of course not Samnu, I am just starting my break now.

Samnu- (raising her eyebrows and nodding her head vigorously) Oh, you are? Okay...yeah...I guess you just make your own schedule right?

*nervous chuckles began around the room much to Samnus delight.

Ken- (stammering) no...I'm just going by the clock on the wall just behind you

Samnu - (turning her head 180 degrees without moving the rest of her body Exorcist-style) Uh-huh...oh, I'm sorry I guess I can't tell time can I? Yes, my watch must be broken - yours looks pretty expensive can I take a look please?

*Some teachers chuckled at this point because having never uttered the word 'please' Samnu coughed and a missing teachers shin-bone fell out of her mouth, falling free to the floor.

Ken- I am sorry, I thought I got 5 minutes...

Samnu- Well yes you do....I know you do in fact, as I did make the schedule. But you missed your break - don't know why - I love having breaks personally, I need them since I work all day and you only work 4 hours - you were scheduled to be back in class 3 minutes ago.

Ken- (playing the baffled teenager who doesn't know whether he is actually guilty of looking at pornography on the school computer or not) I don't know what to say! My schedule says I have a break n-n-now.

Samnu- (making the running gesture) well, why don't you go r-r-run and g-g-g-get the schedule if you remember what it looks like. Go on, I'll wait.

So I ran to my classroom, grabbed up the paper and to my great relief I was correct and Samnu the Terrible was wrong. I ran back into the teachers 'room' and noticed all the teachers had slowly gathered their books and materials, themselves risking her wrath for lateism, wanting to see if David could beat Goliath once more. I handed her the schedule and after reading it briefly she looked up and shaking her head smiling said...

Samnu - Ohhhhh.... I was thinking of the SUMMER schedule, and its WINTER now isn't it everyone?

Everyone- "Oh yes"...."You are SO right!"...."I love Christmas!"...."Ha Ha Ha Ha...Bravo Samnu! Hip-Hip-Hooray!"

Samnu- (looking me up and down and laughing heartily) So why are you still standing here? have a seat, enjoy your break...(looking at the wall clock) you've only got about a minute left though.

And she left the room. I was still alive. Ready to teach another day. One step closer to getting my fat wad of bills.

And thats the important thing.

And so on my last day I collected the students work, wrote comments on their report cards that Samnu disapproved of and made me re-write some again. On one students named Matthew I had scrawled, "Through no effort of my own Matthews Korean-speaking has improved drastically, if not his English. If he spent as much time on his school work as he did looking out the window and falling off his chair, he'd be teaching English and not learning it!"). Samnu did not laugh, even though the student had upon reading it himself (well, translated).

Later on in the day, after marking speaking tests that I had never given (no time to do it), and taping together ripped pieces of homework (thanks Matthew!) I handed in several of the students gigantic, mostly unfinished or done-at-the-last-minute workbooks. Samnu cursed me to high hell for not having the 'brain' to mark them and correct them. As an example she showed me her head teachers recently submitted workbooks (much thinner than mine), with her careful corrections.

Samnu- Isn't she smart? You see why shes our head teacher?

Ken- Yes Samnu, she is very smart.

Samnu- I have to mark these now since you have classes to teach. Thank you for this.

Ken- You're welcome Samnu.

Samnu- You're late for class again.

Ken- And again, I am sorry Samnu.

Samnu- See me at the end of the day.

Ken- Like I see you in my nightmares nightly?

Samnu- Excuse me?

Ken- Excuse me?

So at 6pm, I wished the other teachers well - hid all of my garbage that I didn't know what to do with in a drawer and went to Samnu, who gave me a fat envelope with a sarcastic:

Samnu- You should be paying me for assisting you today.

Ken- (grinning stupidly) Can I count this somewhere with you watching?

Samnu- (looking at the roof, exhaling) Fine.

Needless to say, I lost count far too many times and ended up literally, taking the money and running to the closest subway where I surreptitiously counted the 10,000won ($10) bills carefully. After about 20 minutes I was delighted to discover that Samnu the Terrible had paid me in full.

And that's the important thing. Isn't it?

this is the end...my 1 or 2 friends the end...

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 04:09:00 +0000

Its been over a year...did you know that? Here is a picture of me the morning I left Canada...Dec.21, 2006. Today is January 20th, 2008. Wow.

Does anyone still read this little homing beacon from the depths of my mind?

Well, if you do you'll be pleased to know that my time in Korea is rapidly drawing to a close. Like a long operetta filled with excitement, tragedy, laughter, longing, several long boring parts where nothing happens, one door closing while another opens, and lots of weeping - the performance is almost complete and the curtain will soon drop on the epic play that was my time in Korea. I'm long gone from GnB and am currently floating around trying to catch the money that floats on the many sighs from other lost ESL teachers. I've managed to save a fair bit I guess - enough to take me around Asia for a bit and get me back home - only to be burned up a couple months later after I spend some time in Europe getting to know the ancestors that I don't have there.

I stumbled upon some old photos I took when I first arrived here Dec.21 2006. My cheeks still red from the last 'so long' kisses from Sophia and my mom, my shirt still wet from the hours of crying on the 14-hour flight, I was a wreck but still alive.

Look at me in the corner. This picture may have captured exactly how out of place and lonely I felt. I didn't even get to wear a pink shirt!

Having landed in Seoul weeping like a teenage girl after being humiliated at a school dance by the high school hunk I waited for 5 hours for my flight down South to Busan...my new city.

The first thing I'd learned was that my imagination was the General in charge and my common sense a mere foot solider. I had expected to see children with missing limbs running around after stray chickens, elephants decomposing on the road with vultures (capable of transmitting AIDS and the Avian Flu) feasting on its flesh, and human sacrifices........everywhere.

Instead, my recruiter found me, shoved a cigarette into my gaping mouth, asked me if I was hungry and then responded to my enthusiastic 'yes!!' by dropping me off at my new work without getting me any food. At GnB I smiled shyly at the dozen or so Korean teachers I'd soon be working with, who had gathered nearby to see the new recruit. I felt like a terrified monkey in a zoo. I knew I had to get used to being stared at though, and I did. I never fathomed growing as close to the teachers over the year as I eventually did. Getting to my temporary home (my old directors apartment) I found myself alone once again and had little trouble finding the tears of terror to keep me company.

I even took a couple pictures of myself! Look at the baby cry!

It took a while for me to realize that laughing was far more fun than crying and provided the same release (but both are also necessary on their own too like farting and burping). Anywhoo - after ignoring the dried fish in the fridge and almost dying of thirst I eventually ventured out - taking several pictures of the area I was in so as not to get lost and end up like the poor, dead elephant in my imagination. I got a beer, some water, and some ramen. I felt elated for the first time since I had left Toronto (the happiness was quickly squashed though upon realizing that the stove was gas operated and I couldn't figure it out, so the ramen would have to wait).

Long story short, I spent the first couple of months dreadfully lonely and longing to be back home again - where I was just wasting away but could buy comfort food much easier (if I had the money). I put in little to no effort to make friends, had panic attacks before and after every class that I would teach (screaming at the kids provided the crutch I so desperately needed), continued to go on long walks by myself, and generally just sat on my butt doing nothing.

It took no time for my bad habits to travel the 10,000km from Canada to join me.

Oh yeah, and I got horrible food poisoning on Dec.24, 2006 (that lasted until late in the evening on boxing day) thanks to the first meal I'd bought by myself. It cost me about 50 cents and pounds of diarrhea and heartache. I also got a story out of the experience that I've retold dozens of times now about the dangers of sleeping in your bosses apartment with uncontrollable diarrhea. Maybe you'll hear it one day too!
My First day at GnB saw me terrified and near tears (as always) but putting on a strong face...moments before being told to dress up like Santa Claus.

Oct.29 2007 -the day Sophia broke up with me I arrived at work in a state of Deja-Vu - tears still streaming from me eyes but putting on yet another brave face....moments before being ordered to don the costume of GnB's beloved mascot Bobby.
The first 3 months saw me becoming more and more depressed as I found myself EXACTLY where I was back in Canada, albeit this time with no one to complain to. Sitting around, letting your mind do all the thinking spells disaster regardless of where you find yourself. Except if your a monk.

But slowly and surely things got easier and I became less afraid of my surroundings and more afraid of a night spent all alone in my new home with only my thoughts to keep me company . Like the venerable Chiun in the classic tale Remo Williams I soon adopted the mantra of having nothing to fear, but 'fear itself'. I began pointing to things on menus when I was hungry, pointing at maps to Koreans when I was lost, gesturing frantically inward towards my bumhole with a closed fist for a brief moment before quickly 'charading' an explosion outwards to indicate that I had explosive diarrhea and required some kind of buttplug in the form of Korean medicine. Like the cavemen who survived with no language but grunts, body language and charades - I was surviving in a world I had no knowledge of.

Yet I still wasted time blogging everyday to keep my mind busy, watched movies to escape (rather than live in the foreign-language movie I was currently starring in), and made disgusting meals utilizing kimchi everytime if I didn't want to experiment with my new-found pointing skills.

Slowly but surely I began to venture out even more. I became good friends with Blake and her friends and went on my first trip (organized by my great recruiters).

I was still lonely, but it was a step in the right direction (away from my bed and towards the outside world). Hey, without knowing it I was heeding the advice of Asia's most popular person - Buddha.

“If we are facing in the right direction, all we have to do is keep on walking.”

I'm always surprised to find pictures on my computer where I see myself with drunk Korean men and have no recollection of ever meeting them. I am not alone in this.

I finally got to go on a vacation 6 months later, travelling to Japan with 3 girls I met through Blake - Liz, Leah, and Jenn. We landed in Osaka, spent a few days biking (and melting - NO pun intended) around Hiroshima, a few days in gorgeous Kyoto,
and had an incredible adventure climbing Mt. Fuji in a wicked storm (something I will eventually write about after some therapy).
Aside from some great pictures, and even better memories - Liz had come into my life. Asa! (the thing excited Korean children yell constantly).

After tanning at the beach for the remainder of the summer I played host to Courts mini-adventures in Korea.

Waking up with many a hangover we still had an awesome time.

From scouting Busans red light district and the scantily clothed prostitutes ("lets just walk by, say 'hello', and leave" - Court Jarrell-2007) to drinking tons of beer...

to singing in a Noraebahng....
.... to climbing the Great Wall of China (while drinking a beer)

fun times were had...we even managed a quick jump to Japan!

After China with the end drawing near I went to the Philippines with Liz and swam with an endangered turtle, got burnt as hell, saw a bunch of fish and just lazed around.

So with short times in China

, North Korea (for a few seconds)...

Japan,
South Korea,

and the Philippines
- next on the "rough" itinerary is Bangkok on Feb.15 into Ho Chi Minh (Saigon) to the Mekong Delta into Cambodia (Phenom Penh and Siem Riep) into Laos for a couple weeks an then down into Thailand before getting back to Korea on March.25 and back to Canada on March.26.

Asa! See you soon!

yes, I am still alive.

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 01:18:00 +0000

Yes...I know I haven't updated this blog in about a month...yes, I know very few of you still read this...and yes, I am still in South Korea.

I don't update this blog very much anymore because I actually have stuff to do and theres really not much to say! I no longer get excited when I successfully order something in Korean...I don't get upset when I think of home and the time I've spent here, as I've finished my contract at GnB and have booked a flight home for March 26th...so I guess thats something new. On the one hand, I am excited to be coming home, but on the other I am pretty sure Canada is exactly how I left it. I plan to come home for a bit - visit those who want to see me (I do look a year older) and then off to Europe for a couple months (maybe).

What else?

If you go to Facebook I've put up some photos of me in the Philippines - from the rustic conditions of El Nido, to my painfully blistered back, to some real beautiful spots on pristine untouched beaches. All in all, it was a very good trip. The food sucked though. I swam with an endangered turtle, came face to face with a jellyfish, and was served a salty margarita from a shy lady-boy (no, the 'salty margarita' is not some sexual term like a 'Cleveland Steamer' or anything perverts).

Currently, I am passing the time by writing poetry about life and taking pictures of ordinary things very close up. No - in actuality I am slowly planning the final trip of my time in Asia to Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, and Thailand. I've been procrastinating though, so I haven't changed in that regard.

I'll put up some pictures of the Philippines on Flickr or something when I have the time.

Until then, play a game of scrabble with me on Facebook if you want some kind of contact with me.

Off to El Nido!

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Thu, 06 Dec 2007 12:00:00 +0000

I know I haven't written in a while, but nobody really reads this anymore (except occasionally myself just for the hell of it).

Whats new?

Well aside from Blake leaving, and the weather turning extremely cold - not too much. We don't and probably won't, have any snow so thats a good thing. Seoul apparently gets some snow and is ass-freezing but Busan is just chilly at its worst.

In other news, I finish my contract at GnB at the end of the month and have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, I am pretty pumped since the kids have been getting to me as of late - but on the other fist, its freaky to see how fast a whole YEAR actually shoots by. If we only get 80 or so of them in our lives (if we're lucky) I really should start spending the days like they're going out of style.

As you know, I was planning on doing a winter camp for the month of January to get an extra $3000 before shooting off to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam and coming home but thanks to that greedy pedophile who got arrested in Bangkok a month ago (he fled there after a long stint teaching ESL in Korea) suddenly the country has decided to toughen their lax laws on teachers. They have 2 rules here to be a teacher: 1) You must be white and 2) You must have a degree.

Convicted pedophile? C'mon over! Your love of children is a skilled trade!

Anyways, because of his sticky fingers Korea has decided that as of December 15th a prospective ESL teacher must have an interview with the Korean consulate in his/her respective country, obtain a criminal background check (and it must come back flawless), must have their actual degree in hand, etc. Other things I've read is that teachers will possibly have to submit to a medical test and those who are found to have drugs, AIDS, and other nasties in their systems will be rejected like a chunky, nervous American Idol wannabe. Also, teachers who are already here and want to renew/extend their contract or switch schools must now go back to their HOME country to do so. Its an expensive pain in the ass - albeit a necessary one - but it is screwing a ton of people here. So the lonely pedophile has not only messed up a kids life, but has managed to thoughtlessly (and unwantedly) touch my life too.

So I couldn't get a C4 Visa in time (a temporary VISA) to do a winter camp here. I don't know what I am going to do - but tis a bitch!

On a bright note, I will be going to the Philippines (El Nido, Palawan) this Saturday evening and will return on December 16th tanned and smelling of relaxation. They have no access to phones.internet where we will be (save for one or two mobiles) so don't expect to hear from me or see any Facebook changes. Scrabulous moves will have to wait.

Enjoy the cold..........................suckers!

I feel shitty, oh so shitty!

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 13:40:00 +0000

When we last spoke I was having a rough day. I'd been dumped by Sophia, been duped by GnB into wearing a horrid Halloween costume, and been Ddong-Chimed by Korean kids all day long.

Needless to say, it was not a happy week.

So that was about 2 weeks ago - and now I am 2 weeks closer to my 9-day trip into the Bacuit Archipelago in the Philippines. The airfare alone is going to cost about $1000 which while unfortunate, is unavoidable (but it still makes me whine when I think about it). I am most excited about the flight from Manila to El Nido where after sitting in the little 19-seater plane, an hour later it will (hopefully!) touch down at El Nido airport on their little dirt runway. Have I mentioned that their passenger waiting terminal consists of a hammock tied to a tree?
So yeah, I'm looking very forward to that little excursion. I'll get my bikini line waxed before I go to ensure fish don't think that the little hairs are- ah forget it, I'll just go natural.

After I get back to Korea I'll only have a couple more weeks on the GnB contract before I am technically finished my time in Korea. I'll most likely be doing a month long winter camp for some extra cash before I then take off to Thailand for a couple weeks, and the rest of Asia a bit later.

Then I come home - visit everyone - and maybe hit Europe for a little bit- but rumor has it she's an expensive lady to explore.

The weather has gotten colder as of late, along with my disposition towards the children. These days when they yell "game!!!" excitedly as I saunter into the classroom I lackadaisically cover their eyes with the dirty tissues I've collected throughout the day (snot is a great inexpensive adhesive) place scissors in their anxious little hands and mutter "there. play". Sometimes I turn off the lights so I can sleep for a spell (they can't see if its light or dark anyhow). Their screaming and crying reminds me of the prostitutes bantering and bartering outside my window in Toronto.

I haven't exercised for months because I am a lazy bastard.

I went out with Blake and Katie (my new co-worker) last night before we went to this bar called 'Moes' in PNU to see a friends band play. Before we went out we ate a Korean dish called Chabu Chabu which is basically a gigantic soup that you put thin slices of beef in.

I didn't take this photo so this was not the exact meal I ate and later threw up.

Oh yes I threw up lots!. Last night though, unlike the first time I had Chabu Chabu so long ago (with Eunhee) I didn't have tons of SoJu and recently deceased octopus in my stomach - just some beer and beef! Anyways, at about 2'ish I left the bar (ignoring the pleas of so many for me to stay) and got in a cab.

The thing about Korean taxis is that they ignore all speed limits, drive through red lights, and generally like to tempt God. They also drive with one foot on the break so its a constant stop and go. But everytime you arrive at your destination alive, usually minutes after first stepping inside the kimchi-scented car, you know its the way to travel in Korea.

So I got into the taxi and the instant it lurched forward the chabu chabu mixed with the beer (and the one shot of free tequila I forgot to mention). For anyone whose seen Die Hard 3 - the bomb that the bad guys use have two separate mixed - one red, one white - they mix and seconds later, sometimes minutes later BOOM! It took all of my mental powers not to throw up everywhere - it was horrible. Dripping with sweat and staring at the ground I've never wanted to feel the sweet porcelain kiss of a toilet more.

The bomb from Die Hard 3 in case you were interested (Grandma?)

So aside from that - I have to sell my stuff pretty soon, organize plane tickets, and do all the Visa/immigration stuff.

This Monday evening GnB is having their final speech contest where about 40 students from our school compete against students from 10 other GnB schools in the area. Having tall hair and looking the whitest of the white the director basically told me that I'd be doing the MC'ing all evening. Super. Its not that I'm nervous about talking in front of 350 people or so - they won't understand me anyways - its that I have to stay on stage and watch the kids do these damn speeches and smile and laugh and nod and generally look amused (whereas Blake and Katie will most likely grab a nap). 3 hours - but tis better than working.

Okay, I have to go to sleep now. Bye bye

The weather be stormy...

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Thu, 01 Nov 2007 11:20:00 +0000

Hi all,

Well its been a long week. I came down with a pretty nasty chest cold that turned (mutated if I may be so bold) into a bad infection. The other day I went out (as it was the first day I was feeling better) and woke up with an equally nasty hangover. You think something like draft beer would make you feel refreshed!

An hour before I went to work, my girlfriend and I had a long tearful talk which ended in a sad breakup. I had to cut our conversation short since I had to be at work in mere minutes and was saddened further upon realizing that I was out of toothpaste. So, hungover, phlegmy, devastated, and with horrible breath I plodded across the street to work. I was taking solace in the fact that I had a scary Halloween mask (that I'd picked out a week ago)of the Korean monster Gu Mi Ho (who I didn't realize was female). You see, Tuesday was the annual GnB Halloween day, so for 4 hours I could scare the kids with groans whilst hiding my blubbering.

Naturally, like my first day at GnB where they announced within minutes of my arrival that I'd be Santa Claus, I was told moments after arriving at work that I would no longer be Gu Mi Ho but instead would be the lovable GnB mascot 'Bobby'. Bobby and his female counterpart Ginny are the GnB mascots who encourage you to speak English (even though they don't have mouthes themselves- they are hypocrites). The head was huge and very heavy with only styrofoam as my padding/insulation. No peripheral vision and barely any sight save for the 2 crudely cut holes several inches from my eyes. I also had to wear a big puffy layered suit (that was yellow and blue) that had me instantly sweating. It covered every inch of my body (hands and feet too) and zipped up from the back - making a diarrhea anecdote inevitable.

So as I continued to weep hidden from the world the school children came running in and upon seeing me - their little faces lit up! "Ah, life is okay" I smiled as the kids shrieked and came running towards me. Not a moment later a kids fist, connected perfectly with my testicles, as dozens of claws slapped and tore at my head. Kids who came as the devil used their pitchforks to jab at my face whilst twirling them after to use the butt end to hit me. The quicker kids who avoided my flailing hands ready to choke and gauge whoever they caught, ran safely behind me and after making their hands in tiny guns then proceeded to violently shove their hands as far up 'Bobbys' butthole as God has so far allowed their arms to grow. This violent (and hilarious if you witness it happening to others) maneuvere is actually referred to in Korea as a ddong-chim. Dong is 'poo' (shit if you will) and chim is needle. Put the 2 together, add on an extra 'd' in dong and you're ready to go.

I found a link to this game for demonstration sake.

http://www.mikewang.org/dongchim.htm

If you hold down the mouse key for a while your ddong-chimms become much stronger.

So yeah, 4 hours of that. I actually only had to teach one class that day and it was with my 2 favorite students John and Andy. The chapter was all about the weather and used words like deteriorate and evaporate. After they inquired about my dour mood and I explained to them what happened - they know all about my Canadian life - I couldn't help but use the new vocabulary words to describe the recent events in my life - whilst teaching them that the weather- like love - can sometimes be beautiful and other times stormy.

So it was a tough day to say the very least.

I'll be fine though - so unpack your bags mom, no need to fly all the way here.

Video

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sat, 27 Oct 2007 07:55:00 +0000

Hey - I'll actually write something soon (and by soon I mean within a week at least). But for now, heres a video I put together - no music though as I couldn't figure out how to do it. Its about 8 minutes long, and have your finger near the pause button as some pictures only last about a second (like me loving a lady! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!)

Hello! -C hina day 1 and 2

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Tue, 09 Oct 2007 14:02:00 +0000

This is a Korean bar called "Long Life" and their beer is quite delicious. We used a package of cigarettes to try to give you an idea of how tall my beer was (there was still one more, the 'ace' which was higher and more delicious)

I am still alive - unlike this blog which suffered a slow death whose subsequent funeral was heard of by few and memorialized by none. I still have to write all about my time in Kyoto and my trek up and down Mt.Fuji and the remainder of my Japan trip, but that will have to wait.

So when we last spoke my friend Court was on his way to Korea to visit me for 2 and a half weeks. I had predicted he'd die of something along the way (or upon his arrival) but he survived to have a pretty good trip I'd like to think.

Mind you, I barely survived but thats another blog all together (lets just say drinking all night, getting no sleep, working all day, and doing it all over again the next afternoon does not a healthy lifestyle make). You know what I mean eh papa?

Anywhoo, I was excited for Courts arrival and spent a good part of the afternoon at work that Monday fashioning a welcome sign for him so he'd recognize me on his way out. Naturally I was the only foreigner there, but I think the sign was appreciated nonetheless.

Our first night we spent walking around the Haeundae beach area playing in the water, drinking beer, and perusing the red-light district. It was a late night and the morning came fast and hard (like a drunken customers punch to a greedy hookers stomach). For the remainder of the week we went out for a few different Korean dinners, saw a couple of movies at some DVD Bahngs and generally just caught up on gossip. Getting no sleep though, the first 5 days of Courts arrival are pretty much a hazy, nauseating, sleepless blur.

That following Saturday afternoon we headed off to China. After enduring a hellish cab ride to the airport and I mean HELLISH - the jackass driver considered us dumb foreigners and thus took us at breakneck speeds through a scenic tour of Busan - tacking on an additional 20 minutes of driving time and about $12 more. We were pissed at him and refused to pay the full fare. Asshole!

Court seemed slightly terrified at the guards holding machine guns but after we snapped this quick picture he resigned himself to a quick death and we boarded the plane to Tianjin airport, about 2 hours away from Beijing.

The flight was pretty terrifying due to steep banks from the plane coupled with Courts labored breathing, but we made it around 10-ish at night. It took about 2 hours to get to our 5-star hotel located more than an hour outside of Beijing, but it was worth it...what a nice place, beautiful furnishings, amazing beds, and the hallways always smelled of Thai food!

Our view was of the hotel air conditioner, but we didn't mind as our room was strictly for sleeping and parading around in the babys ass soft housecoats that the hotel provided.

I took over 300 photos in China alone, but have yet to figure out how to use flickr.com so I am only posting a few photos now with little description.

Out first stop was the Summer Palace - an UNESCO World Heritage site and former summer home of Empress Dowager Cixi - who knew how to party and divert money to make homes like this (30 million taels of silver according to Wikipedia!)

The entrance to the Summer Palace - note the throngs of people.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Long_Corridor - nuff said.

A view of the palace grounds while on a boat 'cruise' across the lake. The Chinese, known for their poor driving should also be known for their weak boating skills as a family of 5 in a pedal boat managed to crash into our gigantic boat. We all had a good laugh at their expense.

My favorite sign, seen at the Summer Palace. Note the bottom symbol for "No Terrorism!"

I was surprised that Beijing was so dirty - the divide between rich and poor was intense - you were either very rich or very poor. Tons of cars, pollutions, tuk-tuks (little motorcycles that double as cabs), beggars like you wouldn't believe, etc.

After visiting a pearl factory and getting ripped off no-doubt, we headed off to the Tienanmen Square and the Forbidden City. Aside from being an extremely hot day, the area was packed with tourist and tour groups, Maos mausoleum was closed for repairs or something like that, and the beggars/sellers were out in full steam. Sometime when I find the time and edit together all of the video I took I will show you the tactics these peddlers use so you will buy their crap (basically it comes down to never leaving you alone and pushing stuff in your face - at one point I had 7 or 8 surrounding me - as did Court and Kevin).

An old woman who though appearing pleasant couldn't take no for an answer. At this point she was exclaiming to Court through her limited hand gestures that for $1 he could buy something shitty from her. Court was obviously aroused (hence why Kevin is lurking nearby for possible sloppy seconds).

Tianamen Square was pretty impressive, considering its history and learning about it in high school history class (when I wasn't fast asleep). The space itself is actually quite massive, with Maos Mausoleum, the Monument to the Peoples Heroes, Zhengyangmen Gate, The National Museum of China, The Great Hall of People, Tianamen itself, and the entrance to Forbidden City (the gate of Heavenly Peace).

I took a picture of this sign right outside of Tiananmen Square so I would later understand what I possibly saw.

Zhengyangmen Gate - I think

Court and I standing in front of the Monument to the Peoples Heroes, with the Great Hall of People right behind it...I think.

Guard standing...uh...guard (from a distance) from the Tiananmen Gate to the Forbidden City - the Gate of Heavenly Peace.

Me standing in front of the gate right beside the road where that unknown student stood in front of 4 tanks during the Tiananmen Square Massacres. God, I'm brave.

After about 20 minutes in Tiananmen Square we were herded like diseased cattle under the street through an underground walkway littered with beggars coming from all directions and vendors hawking Mao watches, books, cards, little fans, Olympic t-shirts, hats, etc. We were told several times to watch our money - and judging by the way several people were clutching their bags you could tell we'd heeded the warnings.

After emerging from the street we were bombarded with thousands of more tourists from all over the world all listening to their own tour guide spouting their own tongue. We hustled through and made our way inside of the Forbidden City.

Alright, I am tired - enough for now.

Brew some extra SoJu Hon-Lee! Court's a coming!

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sat, 15 Sep 2007 09:36:00 +0000

Well for those of you who still check-in on this severely undernourished and near- dead blog (Mom, Dad, and Court) I thought I'd drop in for a quick hello.

The weather has been pretty crappy here for the past month in a bit - not that it matters though as I haven't been going out very much anyways. Beach season is over though. 1 month was just a tease. Since my trip to Japan I've been busy at work during the day and playing Nintendo by night - Blake went to Thailand a week and a bit ago and she lent me her Nintendo PSP (a much cooler and far awesomer version of the black and white Gameboy from time forgotten) so I have been busy playing that all the time - better than playing with myself though right papa!?

On a much more important note a day I've been waiting for (and dreading) for months is fast approaching. My BFF (best friend forever) Court will be arriving this Monday evening at 8:40pm and will be sleeping safely in my arms minutes later. This is of course assuming he doesn't fall victim to any number of these possible scenarios:

1- Terrorists. We know they're out there and are just itching to launch a personal attack on a guy who can eat more Swiss Chalet in one sitting than professional porn star Ron Jeremy can at an all-you-can-eat taco stand.

2- Deep vein thrombosis. A potentially deadly (and I do mean deadly) complication that can arise from mixing a dangerous cocktail of high pressure altitudes for a long period of time, lots of sitting with a spritz of bad luck. If Court doesn't do several dozen exercises over the dozen or so hours he will be 30,000 feet in the air (like me on Mt.Fuji) forget being safely in my arms Monday night, he will be tucked securely into an American Airlines body bag (size extra sweet!)

3- His mother. Theres a good chance his mom will drug him at the last possible minute and put him back into her basement in Thornhill where he rightfully belongs. "Korea my motherly ass" will be her parting words to the drugged and home-bound Courtenay-Maurice.

4- My love. Seeing him at the airport will be like being reunited with a long lost family member, most likely resulting in me crying hysterically and hugging him to death.

Anyways I still remember the mixture of excitement and panic when he suddenly informed me that his parents had actually gotten him a ticket to my part of the world. It hurt that at the time I was incredibly lonely and had to wait over 4 motnhs for his arrival, but now with less than 2 days until his arrival I'm experiencing a variety of emotions. Will he still think I'm his hero? Will we still be able to disucss the same movie anecdotes we always disucss for hours on end, fascinating onnly ourselves? Will we end up getting so drunk one night that I run the risk of waking up in his parents basement in Canada, my mom standing sternly over me with pepto bismol in her clenched fist?

There's the excitement that we'll be able to do a million things here that we never dreamed of 4 years ago (explore the Great Wall of China, find the infamous schoolgirl pantie machine in Japan) and panic of spending 2 weeks joined at the hip. Sleeping together (well, in the same room), traveling together (China, Korea, Japan), eating together (McDonalds anyone?), drinking together ('nuff said), going to the washroom together (squat toilets are a 2-man effort even for the strongest thighed).

Courts asked me to make a sign for him with his name on it which I have yet to do. Since this country seems to be void of glitter and construction paper I'll have to make due with magic markers and creativity.

Our first night will most likely be spent (should he not die mid-flight) walking around my neighborhood catching up, showing him the famous Haeundae beach and forcing him to go to sleep early to not become ill like I did, thereby avoiding showering my place with anxious Canadian-brewed fecal matter. Our 2nd day, should he wake up okay and not have died in his sleep (deep vein thrombosis, where a life-threatening clot can form and suddenly dislodge days later clogging a main artery - choking away precious life) will most likely see Court watching Korean TV all day while drinking copious amounts of Coca-Cola, anxiously awaiting my return home from work. That 2nd night we'll probably go out for samgetang (remember that chicken in a bowl from so many months ago?) as it'll be good for recovery.

After that, new dinner everyday - busy mornings, busy evenings - China from Saturday Sep.22 until Wednesday the 26th - Japan a couple of days later (with a possible side trip to Nagasaki) and then he gets his ass (should it not be decomposing in some random Korean morgue) back to Canada!

Have a safe trip Courtenay, we gotta get you back home safely for Xmas!!

Whoops!

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Tue, 28 Aug 2007 11:27:00 +0000

Wow, so I realised I haven't updated this in a while - to be honest, I have just been really really lazy, and actually doing stuff (rather than sitting in my apartment as I did for the first 6 months).

Basically, as the weather has been pretty sweet I have been at the beach whenever I have some time and a bit of sun. Now I am no longer pale and deathly looking, but pretty tanned (like Whoopi Goldberg!). I'm pretty excited to have my buddy Court come into South Korea on September 17th, and am really looking forward to the China trip. Just paid the full amount for both Court and I today, so thats all set. We're also going to try to hit Japan for a couple of days right after the China trip (Fukokwa).

Other than that things are pretty much the same - we've been on a 10-6 school schedule which is changing back in a few days to 2-8, uh, several people I know are finishing their contracts and leaving which is sad, uh - uh - did I mention that I am pretty tanned already? (yeah mom, I am wearing sunscreen so cancel the reminder email).

I'll write more about Japan when I can get the chance - hope everyone is well

9 days in Japan, a story of Love.- Day 1 and 2

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 03:28:00 +0000

These blogs are going to take a while, so I'll just post one every so often that contains a couple of days.

DAY #1 and #2

So I left work on Friday July 27th happy as a clam since I was officially on vacation and sweating like a Russian due to the humidity slowing digesting Busan. For some reason I believed that aside from Japans history and beauty, it would also have much milder weather. I was wrong - but thats ok, because its Japan!

I was a little apprehensive about going on this big 9-day trip for a couple of reasons. One, I heard through a bunch of people that Japan was prohibitively expensive (I don't really know what 'prohibitively' means but I'm experimenting) so I had prepared myself for the worst by exchanging 1.2 million won into roughly 154,000 Japanese yen (100 yen would equal about $1). Another thing I was a little worried about was that I would be traveling with 3 girls I'd only met once or twice (one girl Liz I would only run into at the bar where I'd already be reeling and slurring - would she like the 'real' Ken!?). Finally, I was angry at myself for not doing a lot of research on Japan - phrases that may come in handy, places to eat in particular cities, must-see tourist sites, the location of the infamous 'dirty school-girl panties' machine...and if there is one thing that this 27-year old with acne treasures it's a pair of not-so-fresh vending machine panties!

Preparation
One thing I did prepare for in Japan was booking the hostels we'd be staying at weeks in advance. As I've said before, Japan may be a beautiful country but theres no way in hell I was prepared to pay $100+ a night for a room - regardless if a geisha tucked me in nightly after playing an exotic instrument (if I could be called exotic!). The real problem was that everyone in Korea basically had this time off and many Japanese as well (the Obon week is their real vacation time and that would be a week after I'd returned to Korea). Long story short - all of the hostels had basically been booked. We didn't really have any detailed itinerary of what cities we were going to hit and when - the only real plan was Hiroshima, Kyoto, and for a couple of us - Mt. Fuji! (more on that later). I also had to book around the 2 other friends who'd be arriving later in the week and already booked themselves at a popular hostel in Kyoto (and booked Liz in with them for the remainder of the week). Anywhoo - hostel booking does not an exciting blog make - but I managed to find us 'reasonably-priced' accommodation for the week except for Wednesday when I declared that would be when we summited Mt. Fuji (in the night-time) and Saturday evening (since we had a flight out early Sunday morning from Osaka.

The only supplies I really needed was a hat (didn't get), sunscreen (didn't bother), sunglasses (looked too stupid in everything I tried), hiking shoes (went with old running shoes instead), a thermos (nope), a head-lamp for Mt. Fuji (yes) and a new bag ($110 from $220).

I finished packing late that night and was shocked by how much my bag weighed and the 'extras' I brought - did I really need to bring a whole roll of toilet paper to a 1st world country? Did I unpack anything? Nope!

____________________________________________________________________________________

DAY #1 - Flying in, train, and Hiroshima

Our flight was scheduled to leave Gimhae international airport in Busan at around 11'ish and would arrive an hour later in Osaka. I met the girls in front of our building in the stifling heat and was relieved to see that I wasn't the only one who had packed a significant chunk of their lives into huge knapsacks (except for Liz who only packed a t-shirt and one shoe). We hopped in a cab after complaining for a bit about the heat and took a nauseating 20 minute cab ride to the airport. During check-in Leah was asked to come into a special area as security had found something suspicious in her luggage - since she had to climb over the baggage area it was quite a scene so I made fun of her aloud until she disappeared. Then I suddenly got pulled back to and promptly shat myself. What the hell had I packed that could possibly endanger the lives of hundreds of passengers? A lighter. They took it away, I was baffled. But an hour later we were on the plane and eating delicious food! Sure, I would have appreciated burning my little sandwiches a bit with my lighter - but whatever - beggars can't be choosers.

I played Tetris for the entire flight, had a little panic attack during take-off and was shocked that upon emerging from our flight (and getting through immigration) that Japan was more humid than its jealous and pushy playmate to the west. After getting our Japan Rail Passes - we took a short train ride to the main Shin-Osaka station and hopped on a Shinkasen bullet train to Hiroshima (we got put in one where you could smoke since they had no room - it was like the 80's all over again!). 2 hours shot by and we were in Hiroshima, late afternoon.

Naively I had expected Hiroshima to be full of rice fields and severely deformed children turning tricks but was delighted to discover a bustling little city (filled with tourists). We eventually hopped on a tram (an older looking streetcar and relatively cheap - compared to a certain city I know) and made our way towards our hostel about 25 minutes away. An old Japanese woman beckoned us to follow her (fearing that she was possibly a sexual deviant I warily refused) until I decided to listen to her and walked several meters behind her - right to our hostel! We were in the 8-bunk dorm and as luck would have it, I was the only male. Giggity Giggity!

We grabbed a beer from one of the hundreds of beer vending machines and decided to look for some food - sweating the whole time. Hours later we were still walking around as had taken the tram in the wrong direction once or twice (whoops!) and refused to just walk into any restaurant that didn't have at least some picture where we could identify what we would eat and how much it cost. And whoever is sitting there reading and thinking, "I would have tried anything! Just pointed and said 'give me whatever this is" its not that simple. I won't even bother trying to explain why - you just come and try to do it (Ken says defensively). We finally stumbled into a little Japanese sushi place (few seats = pricey but they had little plastic models of their meals outside!) where we then accidentally ordered $30 sushi plates for the each of us (rather than 1 for the 4 of us which they would have laughed at before cutting us up and serving us fresh to the next customers). Expensive, and not really tasty - but authentic Japanese on our first night nonetheless. Poor Liz left most of her sushi and I don't blame her (the hundreds of fish eggs on one piece literally exploded into your mouth with fish amniotic fluid) and as hungry as I was I didn't eat any of hers.

We walked around for a bit afterwards before making our way home, as we were all pretty tired. The air conditioning wasn't great so I had a hard time sleeping. According to Liz the next morning I snored (until she hit me in the head), moaned little happy grunts and sang for a bit ("la la la" was apparently my selection). At least I didn't let rip-roaring farts go - my usual night-time accompaniment.
_______________________________________________________________________________

Day #2- Biking around Hiroshima, smelling like crap.

The next day we had all slept in (Jenn made it quite clear that she wouldn't be up before 10am - and she kept to that everyday, like me wearing no shirt constantly). We rented 4 bikes from our hostel (all with cool little bells that constantly annoyed the Japanese we rode by). Hiroshima -like Kyoto and I assume the majority of Japan - loves bicycles and gives them great priority (unlike Korea where bikers are seen as abusive mens wives on wheels). Our hostel was pretty close to the Peace Dome but that would have to wait - as our first stop was McDonalds breakfast before the international 11am stop-time. A la Michael Douglas in the movie Falling Down when he arrives just a few minutes too late we were informed by the 'establishment' that in Japan - breakfast stops being served at 10:30. I was ready to scarf down a couple of Big Macs but the group wanted real breakfast. Since when is McDonalds 'real' food?! I cried pitifully.

So we ate some expensive breakfasty stuff and headed off to the Peace Dome. This was the building I'd seen in many photos through school but really had no idea what it was all about.

It is an UNESCO World Heritage Site and the first stop for every tourist. A brief description: "The Hiroshima Peace Memorial (Genbaku Dome) was the only structure left standing in the area where the first atomic bomb exploded on 6 August 1945. Through the efforts of many people, including those of the city of Hiroshima, it has been preserved in the same state as immediately after the bombing. Not only is it a stark and powerful symbol of the most destructive force ever created by humankind; it also expresses the hope for world peace and the ultimate elimination of all nuclear weapons."

The bomb basically exploded a couple hundred meters right above it and wiped out everything else. The area by the river and the T-bridge (the intended target) is now the huge Peace Park.

The view from the reconstructed T-Bridge facing out to Peace Park.

This photo doesn't do the sheer size of this area justice - in front of these huge 'peace' murals are thousands of colored paper bags that children have made throughout the year that are then lit up by candle and sent down the nearby river every year in commemoration of the victims of the bombing. We just missed this huge event by a few days.

These photos were taken from the exact same spot between 2 different 'Before' and 'After' models in the Hiroshima Peace Museum.

As the late Steve Irwin would have said, "Crikey! That was a BIG one!"

Tasteless. I know that.

It was an excruciatingly hot day in Hiroshima that afternoon (I could make a comment about the heat but I won't) so everyone was dripping with sweat. I was wearing a t-shirt that always seems to emit a foul poo-smelling odor whenever it gets wet so I wasn't the best person to hang around. Splitting up for a bit I promptly lost everyone and spent the next 2 hours frantically looking for everyone. A search party was sent out, and I was safely returned to their unworried clutches. With a huge wet spot on my butt (from sweat) we spent the next few hours in the very informative Hiroshima Peace Museum. Aside from relics they had horrible accounts from the families of 'survivors' and some graphic stuff (a guys fingernails). They also had a few very familiar things (like the cement step where a shadow was burned into it from a woman who'd been sitting there when the bomb exploded). People around me audibly gasped as they had their noses plunged into these scented hankerchiefs (Leah commented that she could smell me from a couple feet away so I assume I added to the general disgust in the air).

We looked for some restaurants afterwards but ended up at a crappy Subway before we made our way to this old style castle. Liz and I refused to pay the entry fee (I'd heard it wasn't worth it before coming). The other girls went and agreed that it sucked (and no air conditioning!, what kind of a castle doesn't have that!?).

The moat went all around the castles grounds. Don't ask how we managed to get over.

Still dripping with sweat we made our way back to the hostel and after showering (I accidentally put my poo shirt deep into Liz's bag which she would discover soon after) had a couple of beers on the roof chatting with an older man and his young family. Later in the evening we found a great (somewhat pricey) place where we could get a big fat hamburger and a beer - we walked home pretty satisfied. Well, I could have eaten more.

We got back to the hostel and pretty much crashed. Knowing how much we love to sleep in I made sure I was ready to go in the morning before check-out. I got a bed near the air conditioner as well so I was content - but still concerned about possible farts though - which surprisingly would plague us for the remainder of the trip, and no, they didn't come from me.

Flickr Link

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Tue, 07 Aug 2007 12:34:00 +0000

Here is a link to the website Flickr that I've tried to put some of the Japan pictures on - I had a hard time getting it to work - so I suggest you click on one of the 3 sets off to the right and don't use the slideshow option, so you can see the comments I've written about each picture.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/11029110@N06/

Back in Korea

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Sun, 05 Aug 2007 12:05:00 +0000

Hi all,

So I got back from Japan (sadly) today and go back to work tomorrow. I've got a bunch of pictures so I figure I'll just try to put them on flikr.com or some photo sharing website within the next few days and a big fat synopsis on my trip to the land of the rising sun - from biking around swelteringly hot Hiroshima (no double meaning intended) to my 2 friends, a Japanese guy, and myself being the ONLY climbers on Mt. Fuji because of horrible weather conditions to seeing Geisha in the Gion area of Kyoto to eating ovary of pollack and octopus guts.

but now, ken need sleep.

These 2 Geishas, though extremely pleased to see me, regularly have to put up with hordes and hordes of people trying to get their photos taken with them. These 2 couldn't go 3 feet without having people begging for a quick photo - the Japanese go bananas when they see them - I saw many Geisha paparazzi with huge cameras just waiting for a glance.

Kyoto!

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Mon, 30 Jul 2007 08:08:00 +0000

Hi,

I can only write a quick message as we just got to Kyoto and need to get something to eat soon. Japan is very clean and smells nice - so thus far it is a nice break from Korea. Unlike what I expected I have yet to see any Samurai sterotypically walking around with their swords in battle position - nor have I seen any Geisha walking around fanning themselves. I've taken lots of pictures though so maybe they are in the background somewhere.

Our first stop was Hiroshima and we took the Shinkasen Bullet train to get there - and it was pretty fast. We had to sit in a smoking car which was kind of strange until we decided to all share a cigarette to fit in (it worked).

Hiroshima was not the bombed out, radiation-filled city I expected but instead was bustling little city with lots of buildings and people. Our hostel was pretty easy to find and I found it funny that in the dorm of 8 bunkbeds I was the only guy. With no orgy in sight for the evening and a crappy air conditioner I fell asleep and instantly began snoring, moaning, and singing (I was told this the next morning by everyone in the room). We saw the peace dome and went to the peace museum which was very well done and biked around the city with our little rented bikes. We had a difficult time getting food as every restaurant was completely in Japanese and had no indication of what food they served - we ended up paying for a few pieces of super-expensive sushi and saki and took the tram home. Our second day saw me get separated from the group for over an hour until a search party was sent out to find me - I was found dripping with sweat near a castle and stinking to high heaven.

Today (Monday) it took about 3 hours to get to our hostel in Kyoto which is right in the Gion district - we just got here so I have nothing much to say other than that its a beautiful city and smells nice.

Id write more but I am on a Japanese keyboard and losing patience.

Oh yeah, its weird as hell to say Domo Arigato (without adding in Mr. Roboto) and saying Sayonara without giggling wildly.

Sayonara! hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee

Off to Japan!

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Thu, 26 Jul 2007 23:37:00 +0000

A HOSTEL WE ARE STAYING AT FOR ONE NIGHT IN KYOTO - DELICIOUS! YOU CAN SEE OUR BUNK BEDS THROUGH THE TOP WINDOW - CAN SOMEONE SAY BED-BUGS!

So I fly out of Busan airport Saturday morning and arrive at Osaka airport about an hour later. To answer your questions - I'm not really very excited - don't know why. Its not that I don't want to go, or have no interest in Japan - I'm just kind of 'meh!' but I assume that will all change when I am ankle deep in Geisha!

For those of you who don't know - my school/work will be shutting down for Aug.1,2,3 - so I craftily took the Monday and Tuesday off as vacation days (giving me the July.28 until Aug.5 stretch of nothingness). Myself and 3 other foreigners, over the past 2 months, have been lazily trying to figure out what exactly we are going to do with our time in the land of the rising sun. One thing that was always a big consideration was how expensive out Imperialistic friends are - I converted 1.2 million won into Japanese Yen yesterday and I got about 156,000 yen out of it. We are staying in the worlds cheapest hostels which cost about 2,500 yen per night (and that is roughing it). We've paid for our 7-day rail pass already - so the other costs will be food, local transportation, and other spur-of-the-moment things (like feeding nuts to the hungry and popular Geishas!).

TEMPLE IN KOREA KEVIN AND I WENT TO A FEW WEEKS AGO - CAN YOU SPOT ME? (hint - you can only see my bald head)

Rough plan is to fly into Osaka (I think we arrive around 12:30pm) - rush through customs/immigration - exchange our train ticket 'vouchers' for actual tickets - and hop on a bullet train down to Hiroshima. The train ride shouldn't take more than 2 hours and I got us a popular hostel called J-Hoppers where we'll stay for Saturday and Sunday night.

J-Hoppers in Hiroshima!
Leaving early Monday morning I assume we will then head straight back up to Kyoto (unless we stop on a quick side trip somewhere). In Kyoto there are millions of things to do - hence its immense popularity (like if I was an actual village). We are staying in some could-be-shit hostel called BakPak for 2 nights that just happens to be right next door to the famous Gion district (Geishas!) and tons of other things.

HIKE FROM A FEW WEEKS AGO - I PROMISE I AM NOT TRYING TO GIVE ONE OF THOSE DUMB-ASS 'LOOK AT ME LOOKING SERIOUS' SHOTS - I WAS PERCHED PRECARIOUSLY ON A ROCK AND WAS MID-WAY THROUGH PISSING MYSELF - THAT SHOT IS A MIXTURE OF FEAR AND HUMILIATION

By the way - this particular time of the year is very busy all over Asia as not only do Koreans all have holidays but the Obon festival in Japan is also the following week so tons of tourists are pouring in all the time. There aren't that many hostels and I had a hard time just juggling around online trying to keep us all together (hence why we will be staying at 5 different hostels in total).

FUJI-SAN!

Wednesday one of our girls will be staying in Kyoto while myself and 2 others hop on the train and hopefully get to the town where Mt. Fuji sits placidly (it is a volcano you know). Aside from being the tallest mountain in Japan (12,388 feet) it is also a popular tourist spot with over 200,000 people climbing it every year. Officially only July and August are the climbing season, and all other times the mountain is pretty much closed to climbers because of bad weather, snow monsters, etc. People sitll climb it in the off season though to spite God and the Japanese weather bureau.
Mt. Fuji only has a 50% success rate (basically of the 1% of the population that decides to climb -half of them think 'screw this, I should be drinking saki and singing karaoke' before sliding back down). I've read a fair bit about the Fuji climb from other people and they all quote the same famous line regarding tackling Mt. Fuji.

"If you never climb Mt Fuji you are a fool, and if you climb it more than once you are a fool". - old Japanese saying.

I personally like this one:

“Aspire to be like Mt. Fuji, with such a broad and solid foundation that the strongest earthquake cannot move you, and so tall that the greatest enterprises of common men seem insignificant from your lofty perspective. With your mind as high as Mt Fuji you can see all things clearly. And you can see all the forces that shape events; not just the things happening near to you.” -Miyamoto Musashi (Japanese Martial Arts master, one of the world's greatest swordsmen, 1584-1645)

Anywhoo - after starting to climb at around 7pm we will hopefully make it to the summit (thats right - just like Mt. Everest!) at around 2am -where we will huddle very very close together for body warmth (its freezing up there I'm told) to await the whole reason why we climbed 5 hours in the dark - the sunrise! Of course a million things could go wrong - bad weather, fog, the volcano erupts (its erupted about 16 times since 781 A.D.!) - so keep your fingers crossed.

KOREAN MOUNTAINS NEAR MY PLACE!

After that we make the 2 hours slide/trek down the volcanic ash side of the mountain (this is why you bring a large garbage bag - to store all your garbage and red ash covered clothes) and hop on the train back down to Kyoto - depending on the timing we may stop into Tokyo - but I doubt it. We'll be staying in Kyoto until Saturday morning so maybe I'll get to do some day trips to other places (like Nara).

Saturday we are heading to Osaka and staying at a more expensive hostel as every single spot is full - and Sunday we fly back to Korea.

Talk to you then!

KEVIN AND I GUARDING A TEMPLE IN KOREA WHOSE NAME I'VE FORGOTTEN

Don't look at me!.....I'm a monster!

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Thu, 19 Jul 2007 11:47:00 +0000

Whats new you ask?!

Not a whole helluva lot! Last Sunday Kevin and I enjoyed one of the first sunny days we've had in a long time by going to the beach. We avoided the extremely popular Haeundae beach (and thus so crowded you have to buy space for $25 from a guy since the Korean mafia basically runs the beach racket - not joking). By doing this we also missed all of the girls and had to do with the chunky families and old women.

As soon as we took off our shirts I heard screams of "He's so white!", and "So pale! So pale! He must be dying!" - after telling Kevin to shut up I refused his sunblock as the yellow devil in the sky appeared to not be too strong.

Boy was I wrong. Even after eventually applying suntan lotion and being sure to roll over onto my stomach several times I got burnt reeeeeeeal bad. I kept lifting up my shirt later in the day after we'd left the beach (we only stayed for about 2 hours) because my skin (from bellybutton to neck) kept turning pink to pinker to red!

Talk about pain. A few months ago I had bought some moisturizing cream, for uh...personal reasons....so I began to apply that liberally to the burns. Its a bad sign when the skin burns as the moisturizer is applied. I couldn't wear a t-shirt either as the heat from my skin got so intense that it felt like there was a fire burning inside me (or maybe thats just love). Anyways, I tried to sleep but I couldn't allow any side to touch the bed because the pain was so bad AND the frigging lotion made me stick to the bed so I literally would have to peal myself off of it (and I got covered in dirty sheet crap - bits of sock, some cookie crumbs, Kevin's pubic hair).

The next day, per my moms suggestion I boiled a big pot of tea and threw about 6 teabags into it - after letting it really stew for about 1/2 hour I tossed some ice cubes in it and let a white tea towel soak as much of it up as it could. I should've let it cool longer as it burned my skin and dripped all over my floor. I did this while watching a horrible Bruce Willis movie called hostage (with his unfortunately featured daughter Rumer as his co-star). The tea thing kind-of worked but not enough to stop the tears.

Oh I almost forgot. When I first decided to leave for Korea I had the uncontrollable urge to tell everyone I met that I was leaving for Korea in a few months. The conversations, I kid you not, went like this.

Cashier at Shoppers Drug Mart: Do you have a platinum card?

Ken: No....

Cashier: Would you like to sign up for one?

Ken: No thanks...

Cashier: Okay, then that'll be -

Ken: (interrupting) You see, I can't apply for one, because...(deep intake of breath) well, I'll be in Korea for the next year.

Cashier: Uh-huh.

Ken: Yup.

Cashier: So why all the condoms?

Ken: Kids like them.

The End.

So basically thats how my everyday conversations went in Canada - having nothing to talk about (aside from a nagging finger-smelling habit) I was elated and excited to speak about my upcoming trip. I was special again.

NOW, having this horrible burn a co-worker pointed out to me recently that I have pulled up my shirt to anyone and everyone that passes by me- from the old woman caretaker who cleans the GnB bathrooms to the old women bus-drivers (who I think are best friends as well) to random GnB kids who walk by me and say 'hi'. Everyone has seen the burns - everyone. I do in class - in the supermarket - anywhere. At the gym I work out at a group of about 6 Korean guys were looking at me through the mirrors in the change room as my burn looked so grotesque. I indicated that it was a sunburn and they nodded and walked away discussing the monster they saw.

Now you get to!

FIRST DAY - THE CAMERA DOES NOT DO THE COLOR RED JUSTICE, NOR MY CRY OF PAIN

VERY PALE SKIN VERSUS RED SKIN

TRYING THE OLD YOGURT-ON-THE-BURN REMEDY - DELICIOUS AND NUTRITIOUS!

DAY 3 OF THE BURNS - GETTING BETTER, NOW PINK AND NOT RED

LOOK CLOSELY AND YOU CAN SEE THE HUNDREDS OF WHITE BLISTERS JUST BEGINNING TO APPEAR - HOURS AFTER THIS PHOTO WAS TAKEN THEY NOW NUMBER IN THE THOUSANDS. I'M A MONSTER!

Pray for me.

quick one

noreply@blogger.com (The Virgin Traveller) — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 03:48:00 +0000

Still here, still alive.

Nothing much happening on the work front - I am going to some big thing called Mudfest this weekend, which is a 5 hour long busride up near Seoul to a 2km stretch of beach. I assume there will be a bit of mud, but it will most likely end up just being one gigantic beach party (not the Frankie Avalon kind either).

I was going to throw in a bunch of pictures that I took while hiking with a few people last week- but alas, I don't have the time nor the strength. Japan is stressing me out as we don't have a place to stay in Kyoto yet - one of the only hostels left looks to be kind of a dump - but we don't have much choice. Apparently it is right nearby the infamous Geisha district though - maybe I'll get lucky!

Talk to you Sunday night.