So I decided to go explore and look for that other branch of river I saw from the road.  As I was leaving the school I asked some students if there was anyplace to eat in that direction and I had to use sign language just to get that across.  They said no.  One of them asked, “alone?”  and I said of course, I’m always alone, and they didn’t understand that.  I tried to explain that I wanted to eat in that direction, and one of them said they could take me and I could feed them and then they said they had a problem because they didn’t have any money and I said it was okay because I have a little.  Then they all started joking about how much the one boy eats and another boy said that he eats and eats and started making pig noises and I looked at the four boys and they were all, um, well-fed so I let them leave thinking I was just joking about feeding them because I was afraid I didn’t have enough.  That’s okay I’ll head that way and look for a restaurant still.  “The wedding hall?” said the boy with the Spock haircut.

I also asked about the steps leading up the mountain from the school, and asked what’s that?  I was told it was hiking and that the mountain was home to many.  Church.  many lived there.  So I don’t know if he meant spirits, or living monks, or what.  The stairs beckon me.  Next time.

The smell walking along the mountainside is indescribably wonderful.  Moist earth mixed with detritus mixed with wildflowers.  Today was a cool day, only 75 degrees with 74% humidity and overcast, so I could walk without fear of dehydrating and dozens of sunspots appearing overnight.  I passed a lot of those little pagoda things on the way.  They’re always nestled in the mountain side in the most hard-to-reach places:  little natural alcoves.  Stacked boxes with a wooden hat, or hollow logs with a wooden hat.  I think they must be beehives, but they’re so far away from crops that it doesn’t make sense, and they’re too un-special to be reliquary or anything sacred.  Not long after I passed a Buddhist temple and not much further hit the highway and the river.

I got to the wedding hall and, sure enough, it had a cafeteria and affordable food a single person could order.  (what can I say, I live in the country) I pointed to a photo and the woman was smart enough to tell me what it was and where it was on the menu.  THANK GOD! Someone who understands when a Korean points mutely to a photo of food then maybe, maybe they just might be a foreigner and need some help.  I pulled out my new notebook and wrote the new thing I ordered down.  I figure I need to listen to my own advice and record the things I learn that are meaningful to me.  Food besides kim bop and bi bim bop and kim chi chiggae IS VERY MEANINGFUL to me.  This, my new Korea travel diary will probably mostly end up full of food items.  It was jye yook bokkeum.  제육볶음 Pan fried pork, onions, carrots, green onions and pepper which you wrap in lettuce, along with rice and pepper paste.  Turns out anything bokkeum so far I like.  Turns out I never remember how to romanize my double consonant sounds and had to look up 제.

You know, last week I ran off to the store at lunch to get a coffee and when I got back I sat and watched the kids goofing off .  Suddenly I had about six of them trying to have real conversations with me and us almost succeeding.  It was fun.

I’m thinking – screw the adults.  I’m just going to hang out with these students whenever I can.  They’re not casualties yet.  They give me hope.

OK.  Nap-time, and then I want to write about the corn…

A Korean Expression. Used to describe frustration, annoyances, tiredness..etc. Comparable to “oh my” of english. It is a slang but not a bad word. Can be heard from all ages but generally associated with old age

It’s used ad nauseum by old people here.  One movie I saw a dialogue with 3 old people, and they must have said it 20 times in the course of a couple minutes.  I’ve heard puns around the word, but of course I can’t remember them due to my early onset Altzheimers.

Today is my day to use aigo.  I’ll spare you the gorey details, but let’s just say that I didn’t cry because I already cried Friday and instead just chose to be a bitch instead.

I know it’s just culture shock (still) but it makes you question everything and I just find myself asking how it is even humanly possible to be so damned uncomfortable in the place where you live after a year and a half?  I mean, things just don’t make sense.

Like the time I was trying to buy a dress to wear to Jane’s wedding and nobody would let me try on a damn dress.  Excuse me, but if I’m going to spend 40 to 60 bucks on a dress, then I want to try it on, right?  And if the woman insists it’s free size and the front is just a sling, then that’s even MORE reason to want to try it on, right?  And you look over at the wall and there are dressing rooms and you point to them and ask, well WAE?  Wae do you have try on rooms?  Sorry.  NO.  Finally I made an ultimatum.  Well, if you want me to buy it then I must try it on.  To which the saleslady said, “bye-bye!”  in the nastiest, most smart-alec tone imaginable while waving me off…

Turns out a long-time Seoul resident adoptee tells me it’s because women’s make-up ruins all the clothes, so you have to learn to tell them you don’t wear make-up.  Of course.  The adoptee who obviously doesn’t wear makeup should know that and stop making a scene.  There’s logic, but no one can explain it to you and these things aren’t in any travel guides and it isn’t taught with survival Korean and I’m just supposed to know these things.  Because I’m Korean.

Anyway, a similar thing happened today.  About four times.  And I called the translation service and the volunteer wasn’t patient and had horrible listening skills and I had to fire him.  I kept apologizing, because they’re volunteers and it’s just sick and wrong to make a volunteer feel like crap, but I had to tell him we just couldn’t communicate.

And then there was the phone bill…A major thing was made about this phone bill and it ended up the bill was for 60 CENTS.  But I digress, I will still leave out all the horrible details (that’s just the tip of the iceberg).

And then there’s the air-conditioner which only operates with a remote which was never included and which I’ve inquired about from Dongja to help me procure for the past THREE MONTHS and she keeps forgetting and now she’s stopped helping me altogether because I brought it up in irritation because she kept asking me if I’ve found the remote yet when I keep telling her I never lost it because I never had it…

Or there’s the principal commenting to my co-teacher in Korean that it’s too bad I can’t speak Korean like Wayne could.  Never mind that Wayne had a Korean wife and I can’t possibly measure up to being that white or being able to speak as good as someone married to a Korean.

I ask myself:  Is it me?  Is it because I’m a failure at learning Korean?  Is it because I work too much volunteering with TRACK?  Is it because I’ve never worked with any other foreigners or ex-pats and have always been the only foreigner in sight?  Is it because I don’t look like a foreigner?  But I’m annoying like a foreigner?  Is it because I’m older and won’t tolerate being pushed around because I know better?  Is it because I live alone?  Is being totally without human company just making me crabby?  Is it because I’m in the country without resources?  Is it because people expect more out of me?  Is it because my independence is seen as self-sufficiency?  Is it because my poor people skills are universal?  Or IS IT KOREA???

I never had these problems in Thailand.  I think I got a taste of what it is to be a white person in Korea when I was in Thailand.  Everyone there knew instantly I wasn’t Thai.  Everyone there went out of their way to be hospitable.  People were kind and smiling there.  I’ve never had these problems anywhere I’ve traveled, and I’ve always been alone…

Here.  Every.  Single.  Day.  It’s one extreme or another.  All.  In.  The.  Same.  Day.

This morning I was all happy in some nice new clothes that look fantastic and the weather was comfortable and the mountains are so beautiful and then the needle scratches across the vinyl and it’s back to untenable again.

Aigo.

Today I had only one task to do, and I spent the entire day getting to it:  which is really lovely to not rush to do something, allowing me a little serendipitous exploration.

Long story, but once a month I must travel to either Chuncheon or Seoul to transfer money to the U.S. to pay my stateside bills.  I’m late this time because of the art installation, so I decided to take my time and meander over to Chuncheon today.  It costs me more, as the only Kookmin bank branches are spread out and I must take taxis to wherever they are, but I just didn’t feel like battling the crush of Seoul today.

One time a teacher at my school was walking his black dog around the grounds and he tried to tell me that it was a Jindo, special Korean dog.  Later I asked him about it, as I thought all Jindos were white.  He said they come in many colors but that most are white.  Just thought I’d share that…

On my way to the train station (because I’m a creature of comfort) I also decided to check out the only health club in town, thinking that some physical exercise and endorphins would help my mental state.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately since I can’t speak Korean and it would have been another frustrating scene) there was no one there.  I took off my shoes and gave myself a walking tour.  It was really dirty and disappointing.  The typically immaculate Korean floors were filthy and my feet were covered in dirt after.  And there wasn’t a rowing machine in sight, or any stretching classroom, and the weight room seemed too full of testosterone to handle a little girl like me.  In the lady’s (Yoja) changing room there were bras and underwear hanging everywhere.  It seems they just wash and rinse them and leave them there.  Because there was no one in attendance, I stole a towel and washed my feet off (as I am bare-footed in new sandals) and left.

On the walk to the train station I noticed three men fishing in the river.  It was kind of scenic so I took photos, not knowing how the scale of them would translate against the mountains once posted.  But as I proceeded I saw more and more men fishing in the distance and so, instead of taking the fork to the left towards the train I continued along the river and discovered the resort area of CheongPyeong.

With each meter traveled, I walked further away from my small town and school and Korea and crushing loneliness and frustration and into a R&R heaven, and suddenly this huge weight just lifted off my shoulders.

Suddenly, I was in Jamaica or some other paradise.

The run-down shops turned into funky pensions, cafes and bars playing groovy chill-out music and Seoul residents could be seen playing in the river.

Every bar was a hide-away and felt kind of tropical, the decor all natural and covered in flowers and foliage.  There also appeared to be one really sophisticated bar with a live music stage all set up. (didn’t take a picture of that)

I stopped and had a beer (maekju) at an especially charming hideout and smoked in privacy, enjoying the music and the scenery.  It’s no wonder people from Seoul come here.  And it’s better than most of the other places I’ve been to because it’s off the radar from the Korean tourism listings.  So it’s more low-key and as yet undiscovered and will hopefully remain so. (let’s hope some K-drama doesn’t decide to shoot a film here)  The only draws here in CheongPyeong are the fake French village called, Le Petite France, and the arboretum called Land of the Morning Calm.

But here along the river it rivals the nearby big draws in beauty but without the hype and crowds.  Nice.  I live a 20 minute walk away from heaven.  I can come, have a beer and a smoke, and nobody’s going to watch me or register my presence.  It’s a perfect place for friends to wind down and just relax, or for couples to hold hands and stare into each others’ eyes.  And it’s okay for me to have a vacation from my daily life, even though It would be perfect if the former were possible.

I need to walk around my town more and see if there are any other gems I don’t know about.  I seem to recall another B&B (pension) lined river branch from the train window on the ride in.  I guestimate that’s just another ten minutes walk from my school.  Hope to check that out soon.  It seemed a little more quaint and lovely.

Ok, Seoul friends, please come visit soon!

This kind of group singing is not uncommon among older Koreans.  It’s a solidarity thing and not a performance thing.  Since we’re on a sad song kick, here is a rendition of Arrirang I remembered seeing in Jong Soo-Il’s movie about dark solutions born of despair, A girl of black soil.

I really liked it a lot, so I downloaded it, clipped, and posted it for you.  I’ve switched to dailymotion because Youtube cooperates with the Korean Real Name law and therefore I am NOT ALLOWED to upload any video.

Supposedly a young girl killed herself a few years ago due to unrelenting heckling and harassment by others, and so the government wanted to be able to trace all malicious postings to their source.  But, of course, this is also a convenient excuse to curb citizen mobilization and media influence.

Thanks to the commenter Mark Z. below, I was able to post to Youtube by changing my location to worldwide.  Yayy!  Only the dailymotion upload turns out to be MUCH HIGHER QUALITY, and so here’s the link .

Another reason I like this video clip is it has turned Arrirang into a work song and a labor rights song.  This country didn’t get rich by being fair to its workers…

The note on the card reads,

“Grande et belle oeuvre Suki!!!

Felicitation!!!

Bisous, Greg”

Thank you, Greg!  You sure know how to brighten my day.  What are you doing in Switzerland?

This movie was really great – except for the part where the adoptee speaks perfect Korean, it was very realistic and treated his ambivalence towards Korea with a measure of reality not seen before.  It is based on a true story.

Here’s the first 8 minutes, which will give you a sense of this ambivalence that is being an adoptee here in Korea, and some of the attitudes Koreans have towards us.

And the actual reality of his mom who was forced to give him up.