The Star Man steals my date

For the past few weeks, I have been having really strange and vivid dreams. Strange dreams are nothing new to me, but they usually dissipate within moments of waking. Recently however, I have been remembering almost every dream in great detail. There have been a few involving people I haven't thought of or spoken to in years. There is one in particular involving a person that I barely even know, but for some reason holds a prominent place in my subconscious. Last night's dream is by far the most bizarre of the bunch, and I'd like to share it with you. Seeing as how I have at least 5 friends with Psych majors, maybe one of you can tell me 'what it all means' or whatever.

The dream begins during a David Bowie concert at a venue which vaguely resembles the Orpheum Theatre in Boston. At this point in the dream, the only thing I am aware of is the venue, David Bowie, and the fact that I am there with a group of people whom I know, but their identity is unclear. I remember getting excited when Bowie played Panic of Detroit, especially the line "looks a lot like Che Guevara." I really like singing that line for some reason. Then things get a little hazy at this point but I do recall him playing some sort of muddled mix of 5 Years and Star Man. Then he goes into this song that I don't know, and based on the crowd's reaction, nobody else knows it either. The band meanders along some lame jam while Bowie delicately strikes a triangle. I distinctly remember the triangle because I was thinking that only Bowie pull that off.

For some reason we all know that this is the end of Bowie's set and a lot of people start to trickle out of the theatre. This makes me mad for some reason and I start yelling at the people as they walk out. "You assholes. You're gonna miss the encore. It's the best part of the show." I was totally convinced that Bowie was going to blow our minds during the encore. And for some strange reason my subconscious began confusing David Bowie with Daft Punk at this point. I had it in my head that Bowie was going to do the Superheroes/Human After All/One More Time encore from Daft Punk's Alive 2007 tour, quite possibly the single best live music experience of my life. But that's a whole different story.

Anyway, all of my 'friends' are trying to leave with the rest of the crowd but I keep telling them to stay because I know what he's going to play for the encore. The funny thing is, I don't even remember what he did play as an encore in the dream, because then find myself in an alley after the show, with some girl who I know was my 'date' in the dream but this is definitely not a person I've met in reality. She was, however, very attractive.

So I approach Bowie as all these people are trying to get records signed and pictures or whatever, and I think I'm so suave, so I just say "Hey Mr. Bowie. I'd just like to shake your hand and tell you I'm a big fan." So Bowie stops what he's doing, looks over at me and shakes my hand, obviously unimpressed with me in general. He does however take a liking to my 'date' and begins to fondle her breasts without saying a word. She seems pretty pumped about the fact, and I just sort of stand there knowing that I can't really do anything about it. So then I walk away as I hear my date and David Bowie giggling and groping in some back alley in what is probably Boston, Massachusetts. And this is when I wake up in South Korea to the sound of a blaring alarm clock.

Yeah, I know that nobody cares about other people's dreams, and I generally don't either. But this one has been stuck in my head all day and I'm still trying to decipher it's mysterious meaning. If I were to self-diagnose, I'd probably say that this dream reveals the fact that I am insecure about women and I think about music way too much...both of which may or may not be true.

Let Me Tell You About My Home

So I have officially hit the two-month mark on my little Korean adventure. I've gotten into a daily routine and have started to feel at home, at least as much as I can. So I figure I'd give a little visual tour for my reader(s) back home who may or may not be interested in my new 'hood.

The specifics: I live in Suseo-dong (dong essentially meaning town) which is located within Gangnam-gu (gu meaning district). Suseo is a relatively poor town located within the most wealthy district in Seoul...go figure? Within my short period of time here, I've grown to love my strange little piece of the city. Foreigner sitings are extremely rare here, so I like to consider myself the official US ambassador to Suseo, and I treat my neighbors as such. As I have said before, I live in an Officetel which is a building consisting of small offices and studio apartments.

Here is a shot of my building:

The strange part about living here is that I could live in this building and never step foot outside if I felt like it. The subway station is located directly below. So in the mornings, I don't even walk outside until I get to my destination. I lived here for literally two weeks before I even explored the neighborhood outside. Even now when I walk outside it feels sort of strange and surreal to be walking down these streets that gazed upon from my tower. Speaking of windows (not really), the best part about my apartment is the view. Here is a night shot I took a few weeks ago.

So, yeah...I like the view. So, let me tell you a little about my building. I come home every day, get off of the subway, walk up the stairs, through the gate, and into this madness:

Though it looks relatively harmless in this photo, this elevator is over-crammed from the hours of about 9:00am to 10:00pm. The elevator goes up to the E-Mart, a tightly packed insanity-driven grocery store that I visit almost every day with great anticipation and enthusiasm. First, the same guy is there day in and day out, standing at the entrance, waiting to thank you and bow deeply as you enter, as if he is absolutely humbled by your presence in his E-Mart. This made me extremely uncomfortable for like 2 weeks, but now I enjoy the pleasure I get from his appreciation. One time last week he bowed to the lady before me and then DIDN'T bow to me. I almost turned around and slapped him with my basket. Instead, I just took an extra sample of delicious bread to calm myself down. The samples are maybe the best part about the E-Mart, and I have a daily route. First I hit the delicious bread, then I make my way past the tray of mixed nuts, which is usually unstocked. Whoever is in charge of that nut tray should get canned...totally unacceptable. Anyway, I then cruise by the fish lady, say hello, and snag a toothpick full of delicious fish. Next stop is the "side dish" lady, who has a whole tray full of my favorite Korean side dishes. I take my pick, sometimes make a purchase, but usually just give a little smile and make my way towards the next free bee. The next is the Bulgogi (Korean-style beef). Every day I sample the beef and every day I almost buy some...but I don't. So I move on to the final sample, which is this absolutely orgasmic Korean soy drink. I have no idea what it's called but it tastes like a little piece of heaven every time I lift that half-shot sized plastic cup to my lips. The best part is that there are always at least three women standing around trying to sell me the soy drink, but it's insanely expensive. At this point, they have to recognize me as "that white kid who always mooches our soy drink samples" seeing as how I've never seen another non-Asian in the E-mart. Either way, I'm going to keep sampling until someone stops me. 

Here is a shot of the E-Mart in all it's glory.

As you can see, it's pretty tightly packed in here. Walking in there between the hours of 6:00 and 8:00pm is not advisable unless you enjoy being constantly shoved by old Korean women...which I do.

Okay, so the tour is almost over. There is just one more bit of information that I need to share with you. So, if you refer back to the photo of the E-mart elevator, look to the left. The glass structure to the left is actually the entrance to a vast network of small shops and restaurants. This is also the way that I must walk in order to get to my elevator. I have only ventured to four or five out of the twenty or so restaurants in this maze, but I've had great experiences at all of them. Every morning I get a $.50 piece of toasted bread wrapped around sliced bananas on my way to the subway. I have a serious crush on the woman who works at the Toast stand where this daily transaction takes place. No matter how tired or grumpy I may be, I always throw on a big smile for Toast Lady. Its insane too, because she is ALWAYS there. The woman literally works at least 12 hour shifts, unless she goes home and takes a siesta during the afternoon. We smile at each other as I pass in the afternoons or evenings as I walk out. She sort of breaks my heart - this beautiful woman, trapped inside of a Toast Stand day after day, sitting on her stool, reading a book and flipping breakfast sandwiches. Maybe someday she and I can sit down over a delicious Kimbap and talk about our hopes and dreams.

Anyway, enough about unrequited love. One of the coolest things that has happened to me is how I have become a regular at this little Korean joint on this floor. I waltz in there one or two times a week and the woman who works the floor always shows me to the same seat facing the TV, cause she knows I'm alone. She'll sit with me as I eat and we'll watch her Korean dramas. She'll make comments and I'll nod or laugh as if I understand. It's really a great thing we have going. Plus I can literally get a feast for $5, eat as many side dishes as I can stuff, and walk out of there without being expected to pay a tip. 

So here is a few pictures of the hall of restaurants.

So that’s my home. Yes, it’s strange. No, it’s not really a home, but I like it. Unfortunately, due to problems beyond me control I am going to have to move to a different location. That will hopefully happen within the month of November. So I will be sure to give another detailed tour of my new place. I’ll probably still come back to Suseo though, to smile at Toast Lady, or watch Korean dramas with my waitress friend, or just to get shoved around a little bit buy an old Korean woman buying her potatoes and bricks of tofu.

How to Live on Earth

Life seems simple when it's raining in October, and you're riding on a bus in Seoul listening to Counting Crows deep cuts. Is that lame? Probably, but you'll understand exactly what I mean if you listen to the song "Speedway" at just the right moment.

Most other times, life seems very complicated. One moment you're on top of the world, the next moment you get anxious about nothing, then you decide you want to learn how to play the banjo, then you miss your sister. 

I realized earlier today that my musical tastes lately have leaned heavily on the "light" side. Am I becoming old and lame? Have I turned into one of those people that think Sky Blue Sky is a 'nice' album? Though I don't know the answer to these questions, I do know that the most revelatory musical experience I've had in the past month occurred while listening to Bruce Hornsby on the subway. 

Light music can be very comforting. I think that is probably why I have gravitated towards Ryan Adams or Van Morrison lately, as opposed to say, Animal Collective or My Bloody Valentine. Seoul is crazy. Imagine living alongside 13 million people that have the most intense work ethic imaginable and glare at you for wearing a sweatshirt. Having spent four years in Burlington, where a clean-cut face and sweater would look out of place, this is a little tough to get used to. 

I'm not sure what that has to do with anything, but I'm a sort of delirious and jacked up on Coke Zero...so just bear with me for a minute. This all made sense when I was thinking about spilling my guts on the bus earlier. Now I can't remember what I had to say. It had something to do with the fact that Adam Duritz doesn't get the credibility that he deserves, and that Ryan Adams used to write great songs. Is it a coincidence that they have collaborated on a few songs? Probably not. They both owe an incredible debt to Neil Young, write great pop songs, and have a tendency for sentimentality. "When you're young, you get sad and you get high." How fucking great is that line?

Well now I am off to a Rooftop Mexican BBQ on rainy day in South Korea. I tip my hat towards you, the reader....for reading this even though it lacks any hint of entertainment or Korean madness. 

PS...listen to Bon Iver

PPS...I'm pretty sure that there is a law in South Korea stating that you MUST carry an umbrella if it rains.

PPPS...Every time I see an umbrella, I sing "ELLA A A A" in my head and giggle.

PPPPS...All you Massholes better vote YES on Question 2.

PPPPPS...How to Live on Earth is the name of a movie that got rave reviews at the Pusan International Film Festival and just so happens to be directed by the husband of one of my colleagues. Yesterday I asked her if the movie explains how to live on earth and her response kills me. 

"well....maybe...if you think about it a certain way"

Thats sort of how I feel about Dazed and Confused

Pop Quiz!

Which of the following incidents from yesterday is the most absurd?

A.) Being forced to take shots at lunch by other teachers.

B.) Hitting my Principal with a line drive during a casual game of T Ball.

C.) One of my students telling me that his nickname is R. Kelly because his skin happens to be slightly darker than the average Korean.

D.) Getting offered a cigarette from my students after catching them smoking behind the school.

Kid Rock: douche bag or true American hero?

"cause freedom ain't so free when you breath red, white, and blue"

Cooper gets Plastic Surgery

Last weekend I had an unfortunate altercation with the sidewalk, resulting in lots of blood and a fairly nasty cut directly above my right eye. Lacking any medical common sense, I decided simply to clean the cut out and throw a band aid over it. Flash forward to Monday morning, and every teacher in my school is asking me why I have a large band aid above my eye. Now granted, most of the teachers do not even speak enough English to understand my explanation, but they ask anyway...mostly by pointing at the cut. One of the teachers takes it upon herself to go get the school nurse to take a look. So I take the band aid off while 5 or 6 teachers look on in wild anticipation. The nurse takes a look and tells me that I need to get stitches right away. Everyone seems very concerned at the possibility of a scar, as if it is a crucial health concern. "Oh, that's ok" I say. "I don't mind if I have a scar. It's like a free souvenir." That only made things more confusing, as most of them didn't know the meaning of the word souvenir, and I obviously had no clue as to the Korean equivalent.

So one of my co-teachers tells me that she knows a Plastic Surgeon who can stitch me up for the reduced price of $100. This doesn't sound too appealing to me, since I could get stitches at a nearby hospital for free. I express this concern to her and she informs me that a Plastic Surgeon uses "special delicate" stitches that reduce the possibility of a scar. Again, I say that I don't really care about a scar. I'm more concerned with saving $100. However, nobody seems to understand how I could possibly not care about having a scar. "But...it's your face!!" they keep telling. So finally I cave, and decide to let me co-teacher take me to her doctor friend after school. Honestly, shelling out $100 seemed easier than trying to explain that I wouldn't mind a scar.

I'm standing on the subway platform with Ms. Choi when I hear someone yell "COOPER" from across the tracks. I turn around to see another teacher from my school yelling my name and waving her arms. "Cooper," she says, "My brother is a Plastic Surgeon and I call him to see if he help you. He can give surgery at 6:00 if you will come with me now." I look to Ms. Choi with a face that says, "Can you please figure this out?" Luckily she can read my face, so she and the other teacher (Ms. Hwang) start speaking in Korean to each other. From what I could gather, they were both going back and forth as to who should bring me to get the surgery. Ms Hwang seemed to be the more aggressive of the two and eventually won the battle. So I thanked Ms Choi and headed over to the other side of the tracks.

Ms. Hwang and I take the subway to her apartment, so that we can grab her car. However, there is a van parked perpendicular to her car. So it appears to me that we won't be able to get out. It turns out I'm wrong, and Ms Hwang tells me to get on one side, while she stands on the other, and we begin to push the van forward in order to get her car out. Apparently, this sort of parking style is common in Korea. Once we finally got the van out of the way, we hopped in her car and headed to the doctor.

On the way to the office, Ms Hwang informs me that her brother is one of Korea's most renowned Plastic Surgeons, which is a big deal when you consider that Korea has the highest rate of plastic surgery in the world. Apparently this guy has cut open celebrities and politicians both nationally and world-wide. When we arrive at his office in Apgujeong (the Beverly Hills of Seoul) and walk into his waiting room, I felt like I just stepped into the Korean version of Nip/Tuck. Im surrounded by attractive young Korean women sitting on black leather chairs and chatting on cell phones, while the Doctor's gorgeous receptionist immediately begins offering me all sorts of beverages. The whole thing was quite surreal and I couldn't help but smile to myself.

So we sit in the waiting room for a while, and I finally realize that I have no idea what the hell is going on. I'm praying that I will get some sort of anesthetic during the procedure, and that I won't be shelling out $300 to Dr. Swank. After a few minutes a nurse comes downstairs, brings me to the operating room, and has me lie down on the table. After dabbling all sorts of liquid onto my wound, she places a sheet over my head, completely covering my entire face except for the right side of my forehead. Then the Doctor comes in, reassures me in broken English that, after receiving a few painful shots, I won't feel a thing for hours. We talk about Nip/Tuck, Philadelphia, and college. He even laughs at me when I tell him I majored in English Literature. 45 minutes and 27 stitches later, the doctor is leading me out the door with a script and a handshake. He tells me that there is no charge for the surgery because he can tell that I am "a good guy, who's not in Korea to make money, but to experience all of the country's beauty." I thank him roughly 14 times before he shoves me out the door, but not before I get to say goodbye to his lovely receptionist.

On the drive back to my apartment, I remember staring out the window watching the night fall over Gangnam, the sun already set, but the sky still pink - my favorite time of day. There was an overwhelming sense of calm and rhythm to the streets around me, a feeling I had thought was impossible to get in Seoul. Ms. Hwang started laughing, turned to me and said, "Cooper, you know, not many people get plastic surgery for free. You have unlikely experience today."

"That's very true," I said. Though, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that I was missing out on a good scar.

Two things I miss

A Great Day

Hey

It's my birthday

Brad Miller is in Seoul

I just ate a Burrito

Im about to go see Yo La Tengo

Life is good.

Lunchtime Baseball

Every day, the students at my High School get a 50 minute lunch break, where they can eat and then have some free time. This is also my favorite time of day, as I often get the opportunity to play Ping Pong, Basketball, or simply carry on absurd conversations in Konglish with a mob of giggling girls. Today I was sitting outside with another teacher, watching some guys play Baseball. The best part was, these guys were pretty awful. In America, I feel like every guy has at least a basic knowledge in how to hit, throw, and use a glove. These kids had no idea what to do with the glove, and often threw it on the ground, opting to catch bare-handed instead. Plus the pitchers were out of control, hitting innocent bystanders more often than the catcher's glove. Obviously, this made for quite an entertaining scene, and I was thoroughly enjoying the game, the fall weather, and a general sense of relaxation. That is, until I was called upon to step up to the plate. 

One student whose turn it was to hit decided to give me his place, much like a celebrity shot in Beer Pong. At first, I declined. I did not want to deprive anyone of their chance at Sports Stardom, but once the offer was on the table, there was no turning back. Everyone starting cheering, "YES COOPAH...YOU PLAY." So, I took off my sweater, rolled up my sleeves, and got into position. The pitcher threw about 8 pitches that either went way over my head or behind me. Finally, he throws one straight down the middle, a little higher than I anticipated, and I took a BIG swing, missing completely. "OOOOOOOOO," is all I heard, coming from all sides. I look around and notice about 75 people now watching the scene. 

Heres a mental picture for you: The shape of my school is basically a T, and there is a field (read: dirt patch) on either side of the T. We were playing on one of those dirt patches. As I look around me, I notice kids hanging out of almost every window, lined up at the doors, and crowding the steps. Essentially, all eyes were on Coopah Teachah to see what he would do. At first I found this kind of amusing, but then I thought, "What if I strike out? They're probably expecting me to slam this thing into the street. They don't realize that I SUCK at Baseball." Oh well, there was nothing I could do about it now. So I took a deep breath and pointed the bat into the far reaches of the outfield, much to the delight of the ever-growing crowd. The pitcher threw three more wild balls, one of which almost took my head off, another slamming into the catcher's ribs. The next one comes at me, a little low, and straight down the middle - right where I wanted it. I take a big swing...WHIFF. Everyone starts going wild. I hear "STRIKE-EH" and "OOOO COOPAH" coming from all sides. Now I really start to get nervous. What if I miss? These kids will never respect me again. I still have to see them for 11 more months. I can't take that kind of humiliation. 

I look up at the pitcher and he is smiling, like he knows I'm going to strike out. I take a few practice swings, step back up to the plate, and prepare for the worst. As expected, a few more wild throws fly past me. Then the pitcher tosses one a little slower than usual, down the middle. The ball was a little higher than I would have liked, but I didn't care. I just went for it. I can't even remember if I looked at the ball, but I felt the connection. I sort of swatted at it, hitting a fast grounder straight down the third base line. Luckily, the closest infielder was covering second, so no one was around to get it. The ball quickly rolled into the outfield as I rounded first, with a stupid grin on my face. I made it to third base before the ball made its way to the infield. As I was catching my breath, I finally noticed all of the cheers coming from the building and the surrounding steps. I started to feel this great sense of pride and accomplishment as I listened to all the students shout from the windows. I've never received such an enthusiastic applause before, and I couldn't help but feel fantastic. Even though all I did was BARELY not strike out, I felt like I had accomplished something monumental, if even for a brief moment. I saved my reputation this time, but who knows what sort of challenges will be thrown my way in the next few months.

On a different note, I teach an extra conversation class twice a week for kids that are interested in more English practice, easily the best classes of the week. Since I teach this class alone, I can pretty much do whatever I want. So I rarely even plan a lesson, and we usually just end up playing games or talking. I also do "Slang of the day" which is probably the reason why most of them show up every week. At one point I was asking the kids if any of them had nicknames. Often times when I ask questions, the students giggle with each other and start jabbering away in Korean. So the same thing happens today with two of the guys who are in the class. I ask them what they are talking about and one of them points to his friend and says, "His nickname...Porno Psycho Fest."

Who doesn't love a top 5 list?

Since Monday of last week, I have taught a total of two classes. One of those shouldn't even count, because we played games the entire time. So, let's do some math. Not including today, that is 5 days with essentially no teaching..40 hours. Granted, I am able to get up and move around, visit with other teachers, play ping pong, but most of the time I am simply sitting in front of my computer. Sometimes I will read a book, but since most of the other teachers around me appear to be doing "actual work" I don't exactly want to make it THAT obvious that I have nothing to do. Then I run the risk of having to teach more classes, and no one wants that.

Thus, I have spend roughly 80% of those 40 hours staring at my computer screen, learning asinine amounts of useless information and burning my precious retinas. At the same time, it has been nice waking up every morning knowing that the most difficult thing I will have to do all day is to decide which Podcasts to listen to first.

Anyway, since the other class I was supposed to teach today got cancelled, I figured I'd share a little bit of what I discovered during my in-school vacation. So here is a little top 5 list of things that may or may not change the way you experience time and/or space.

1.) Poetry Readings on Youtube.

Seriously, many of you may think this is super lame, but I think that listening to Sylvia Plath read "Daddy" or Charles Bukowski reading "Bluebird" or Paul Muldoon reading "Why Brownlee Left" is incredible [Side Note: I got to meet Muldoon once, by the way. We drank Guiness and talked about Neil Young...one my fondest memories of college, besides being arrested of course]. Anyway, here's a good one for you. This is Frank O'Hara reading "Having a Coke with You," a poem I had never read before last week.

2.) Carlton Mellick III

Apparently, this guy is one of the most important authors of the relatively new and obscure "Bizarro Movement" in modern literature. Though I have never read any of his work, his titles are brilliant. Here are a few examples:

Razor Wire Pubic Hair

The Baby Jesus Butt Plug

The Menstruating Mall

The Haunted Vagina (can't wait to read this one)

Adolf in Wonderland

The best part is that the titles refer directly to the plot of the books. So "The Menstruating Mall" is actually about a mall's feminine cycle. Who knows what "Adolf In Wonderland" is about, but I'm curious.

If you're interested in more information regarding Carlton Mellick III or the Bizarro movement in general, this book is supposedly a good place to start. I already added it to my amazon.com wishlist.

3.) The Wide World of Serial Killers

I spent much of my free time brushing up on the biographies of famous serial killers. Starting with the Michael Phelps of serial killers, Jack the Ripper (not to be confused with Jessie and the Rippers), I made my way through history, and found some pretty interesting stuff.

One of the most ridiculous serial killers of all time is Liu Pengli, from the Jing Dynasty of China. Good ol' Liu was cousin of the emperor and, as with many spoiled rich kids, he lead a life of boredom and apathy. Pengli would take 10 to 20 slaves out with him and simply murder people for fun, throwing in some torture just for the hell of it. His kill count was well over 100, and his little "expeditions" were notorious throughout the Jing Dynasty. Eventually, Liu Pengli was sentenced to be executed, but the emperor would not allow family to be executed, so he simply abolished Liu to the boonies.

Contrary to popular belief, women can also harbor some intense blood lust. Countess Elizabeth Bathory of Hungary, with some help from friends, is said to have tortured and killed more than 600 girls after her husband died. Apparently Lizzy was a fan of experimental surgery, severe beatings, and eating her victim's flesh. WHOA!

Thug Behram of India may claim the highest victim toll in Serial Killer history. He is said to have killed 931 people by strangulation before he was executed by hanging in 1840. Thug Behram was part of the Thuggee Cult, which is also worth looking in to.

4.) http://criterioncollection.blogspot.com/

Given my obsession with the Criterion Collection, I was very excited to stumble upon the Criterion Contraption. Matthew Dessem, some guy from LA, decided to watch every film in the Criterion Collection in order. There are currently 455 films in the Criterion Collection, and since Dessem began the project in 2004, he has only made it through #87. This is not due to laziness however. Dessem claims to spend at least 15 hours with each film, and his posts show it. He gives in-depth analysis of the film's history, plot, thematic elements, and his own apt criticisms. Plus he always includes amazing stills from each film. This is a project I have always wanted to begin, but knew I'd never finish. So it's nice to see that someone out there has the will power and intelligence to do it justice. At the rate he's going, DVDs will be obsolete long before Dessem finishes reaches the finish line.

5.) I'm surprised by how few things I miss from back home...it pretty much comes down to driving, cheese, and good beer. However, there is one formerly important part of my life that I didn't realize I missed until I saw this. 

http://ccinsider.comedycentral.com/cc_insider/2008/10/the-daily-sho-1.html

I showed one of these clips to my co-teacher...she didn't get it.

Kidnapped and driven to the Boonies

I spent my first week in Korea trapped in a Hyundai Training Facility with 200 other "Native English Teachers" at a Teacher Training session, roughly 45 minutes south of Seoul. Though the teacher training was useless for the most part, I did learn one valuable lesson. During every session, whether it was about teaching or life in Korea, the person speaking always emphasized the fact that we will need to "go with the flow." Korea moves fast, and you often have no idea what you will be doing in ten minutes. Right now, as I write, I am sitting at my desk "working." Twenty minutes from now, I could be giving a presentation in front of my entire school about the American Education System, or maybe I will be ripped from my computer and dragged to a Kimchi museum. The point is, you never know what's going to happen in a given day, and you pretty much have to just go with it.

This past weekend, I learned first-hand just how true the unpredictability of Korea really is. Earlier in the week, my co-teacher asked me if I would join his family in going to visit his mother-in-law. I thought "sure, should be an interesting little afternoon..at least I'll get some great food out of it.” Friday rolls around and as I am getting ready to pack up shop and head back to my apartment, my co-teacher tells me to meet him at his place at 8:00am the next day. "So there goes my Friday night," I thought. Not a big deal, I need to save money anyway.

The next day, I get in the car with my co-teacher, his wife, and her brother (their two daughters had left the night before) and we all begin the trek to grandma’s house. About thirty minutes into the drive, I ask where we are going. “Cheongdo…it is about 3 ½ hours South of Seoul,” my co-teacher informs me. 3 ½ hours? Hhmm…I was starting to wonder whether I would be back in time to do anything fun in Seoul that night. Then, about an hour later, my co-teacher asks me if I will go hiking with him and his brother-in-law the next morning. “Where are you going hiking?” I ask. “Oh, the mountain is right next to my mother-in-law’s place,” he responds.

Me: “Wait…are we spending the night here?”
Co-Teacher’s wife: “You didn’t tell him we’re spending the night!?”
Co-Teacher: “I wanted to surprise him.”
Wife: “But he doesn’t have any of his things.”
Co-Teacher: “It’s ok…I packed a tooth brush for him.”

Now at this point, I am using every ounce of will-power to hide the fact that I am extremely irritated. My assumption was that we were headed to the ‘burbs for a nice little visit at grandma’s house, and then headed back to the city. At this point, I am feeling like this wasn’t so much of a “surprise” as a ploy to get me to come without really telling me what’s going on. Maybe I’m just upset. Looking out the window at the miles and miles of rice fields and mountains, I take a deep breath, and decide to make the best of it, whatever “it” may turn out to be.

Two hours later, I am sitting cross-legged on the floor of Grandma’s living room, eating a giant-sized, amazing meal and sucking down Soju with two 70-year olds who think I’m the most hilarious person they’ve ever met, even though they can’t understand a word I’m saying. “Ok,” I think to myself, fairly buzzed at 2:00 in the afternoon, “maybe this won’t be so bad.”

I spent the afternoon picking Persimmon (Korean fruit) from trees with my co-teacher’s daughters, and getting an exclusive village tour from a 74 year old carpenter whose grasp of English consisted of two thumbs up and the words “Number One.” I felt honored when, using my co-teacher’s wife as a translator, this man told me that he was so happy to have me at his home, and that, in the 30 years he had lived here, I was the first Westerner he had seen in the village. After hearing this, I started to feel like quite a little brat for having gotten upset earlier in the car. This was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

8:00pm – I am sitting in a backyard patio, eating Barbeque, and taking a considerable amount of Soju shots. The number climbs easily into the double digits and, as to be expected in any Korean social gathering involving alcohol, people start to sing. One by one, people sing little acapella solos of Korean traditional songs or old pop hits, general crowd-pleasers. At first, I just sit there, clapping along and enjoying the performances. Then I begin to realize that there is a method to this madness…a clockwise circle. Panic strikes as I realize that I may be expected to participate, and it’s almost my turn. Finally, the moment of judgment comes, and everyone looks to me expectantly. “Sing American pop song!” they shout. They all start to cheer, and I realize there’s no turning back. So, I down another shot of Soju for courage’s sake, and let it happen. Don’t ask me why, because I have no clue. But, for whatever reason, I just start singing “Build Me Up Buttercup.” Now I’ve never really liked this song, nor have I heard it in probably five years, but for some reason it just popped into my head. Either way, the audience ate it up. I sang until I couldn’t remember any words and then just sort of ended it in whatever sloppy fashion I saw fit. They began to shout for an encore, but I refused.

The night continued with some card games and an intense pillow fight with a 7 year old Taekwondo master, which I lost in a bad way. I woke up the next morning, hopped on a train with my co-teacher (I had to be back in Seoul for an appointment) and headed home. Looking back, I realized that the unpredictability of Korea is something to look forward to, not prepare for with dread. Sometimes it’s hard to be taken out of your comfort zone and thrown into a situation that is completely foreign. But at the same time, that is essentially why I am here, and why I love to travel. Those 24 hours proved to be one of the strangest of my life, and that is an experience that I will share with people until I am old and senile.

So, what is the moral of this story?

Never challenge a 7 year old Korean to a pillow fight.

Remember when Weezer was cool?

Friday afternoon thoughts...

Sitting at my desk all day with literally NOTHING to do has really made me start thinking, and I'd like to pose a few thought-provoking questions.

1.) Why do Americans feel the need to refer to their home country as "The States" only when they are abroad?

2.) Am I the only person who thinks its pathetic that both John McCain and Barack Obama have a childrens book written about them? Talk about propoganda..

http://www.amazon.com/Barack-Obama-Promise-Child-Hope/dp/1416971440/ref=sr_1_32?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1223616397&sr=1-32

http://www.amazon.com/My-Dad-John-McCain-Meghan/dp/1416975284/ref=sr_1_13?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1223616386&sr=1-13

3.) Do you think some films seem better than they actually are simply because they are part of the Criterion Collection? Do I actually like Andrei Rublev? I think I do...but do I really?

4.) Is it bad that more than 50% of the posts on Stuff White People Like applies directly to my life?

5.) Why did nobody tell me that Fred Durst directed a feature film called The Longshots...starring Ice Cube?!?!

The sweet sound of K-pop

After six weeks in South Korea, I have found that one of the most important factors in assimilating into the culture is not learning the language, or understand social customs, but rather a broad understanding and appreciation for Korean Pop Music, known simply as K-pop.

You've probably heard of J-pop (Japanese pop). K-pop is essentially the same exact thing, though it seems as if the Koreans take every pop stereotype one step further into the realm of absurdity (see any Big Bang video for reference). Whether it's a slow, tear-jerking ballod, club hit, or even a sad attempt at tough-guy rap, these Korean pop stars give it their emotional all.

K-pop is ubiquitious in Seoul. Like trashy techno in Europe, K-pop becomes your daily soundtrack while roaming the city streets. It blasts from store front speakers, passing cars, subway stations, cell phones, and probably a Buddhist Temple or two. The interesting, yet predictable aspect of this K-pop invasion, is that you only really ever hear the same three to four songs. Right now the biggest hit is Davichi's single Love & War (who knows what it actually means in Korean). This song is HUGE. It makes Umbrella look like a Creed deep cut. The first time I heard this song was while watching an intense marathon of K-pop videos with some friends of mine. Though the entire song is in Korean and I can't understand a single word, the melody is so damn catchy that I found myself humming it for the next three days. Then I started to hear the song everywhere. Unlike in American however, where you start to absolutely hate those songs that are played for 6 months straight, K-pop songs seem to only get better with age....like a fine wine, if you will. Though it may be a stretch to compare a Davichi song to a delicious Pinot Noir, I still find myself smiling and often humming along when I hear that song (multiple times a day). Here is Davichi's video in all it's glory.



Now Davichi is great and all, but this is my favorite K-pop video. I have never heard a song that embodies the term "Bubble Gum Pop" as much as Kara's Rock U. I first heard this song during that same stretch of music videos, and it knocked me off the couch. The video is sweet too, especially the part where they eat paint. Unfortunately this song is a rarity out in public, though I often play it at my apartment as sort of a pump-up song before venturing out into the chaos of Seoul. Maybe this was like the song of the summer and I arrived too late, or maybe people just don't dig Kara as much as I do.

Shake it Shake It





Now, there is one final person you need to be aware of in the K-pop scene, and that's Lee Hyori. She is essentially the Britney Spears of Korea. Anything she touches turns to gold, especially the multiple Soju brands she advertises for. Unlike Davichi and Kara however, Hyori's songs lack any sign of poppy charm. Maybe it's Hyori's constant and repetitive use of simple English phrases and slogans that makes me detest her music. Unfortunately, that is also probably the reason she is so damn popular. Here is an example. This song is called You Go Girl. I apologize in advance if you can't get it out of your head for a few days.



So that is K-pop 101. I hope you enjoy. If there are any updates or hot jams in the scene, I will be sure to keep you posted. However, given the length of time that these songs stay popular, don't expect a new single until '09.

Here we go...

Remember what happened to all of your friends who vowed never to start a Facebook account? Those people that appeared intelligent, or at least cool enough to not rely on Facebook stalking as a daily time-wasting ritual. What happened to them? 

THEY CAVED

Two months ago I was asked to start a blog while I am in South Korea. Certain people assumed that my life would be interesting enough so that others, assumedly those in America, would want to read about all of the exciting adventures I have. Without even thinking, I boldly claimed that I would NEVER start a blog. "Blogs are pretentious and reek of narcissism," I said...most likely in a pretentious way. 

Recently though, I have become fascinated with blog culture and find myself reading various blogs almost daily. Whether it is a friend just ranting about daily nothingness or some guy trying to watch every film in the Criterion Collection and then spending 15+ hours dissecting each one, blogs are bizarre and slightly addicting. So, as I love to do every so often, I decided to hop on the band wagon. 

Here's my blog!!!!!!!!!! Get ready for massive amounts of bitching, music snobbery, recommendations that you didn't ask for, and stupid videos. Maybe I'll throw a nip shot in every once in a while.

So, I'll give the basic facts - an intro, if you will...

Graduating from UVM in May with a degree in English, I didn't exactly get bombarded with lucrative job oppertunities. Given the fact that English majors are easier to come by than a McDonalds, and how the word "career" makes me want to curl up in a ball, I decided to put the real world on hold and come to Korea. I landed in Seoul roughly six weeks ago and life has been fairly absurd ever since..mostly in a good way. I teach English (or Englishee, as my students love to say) at the Korean equivalent of a vocational school called Seoul Robotics High School. My students may not be "intelligent" or "driven" or "bound for success," but what they lack in academic qualities, they make up for in their undying love and admiration for ME. Everyone should get the chance to feel like a celebrity at least once in their life, even if it is only within the confines of a shabby-looking High School in Seoul.

In class, I'm a game-show host. Outside of class, I'm essentially a press secretary, answering any and all questions thrown at me by students, teachers, and janitorial staff. 

"Are you married?"

"Do you have girlfriend?"

"How much money do you make?"

"How much beer can you drink?"

"Who do you want to win the election?"

"Can you introduce me to gold-haired woman?"

"Do you believe in Jesus Christ?"

The list goes on...

Aside from the bombardment of questions, everyone at my school rocks. The teachers constantly shower me with gifts (socks, fruit, candy, potatoes) and love showing me pictures of their families and/or collection of model robots. No matter how tired I am at the end of the day, I always leave the school with a big grin on my face. That's more than I can say for City Market. 

Some things are hard to get used to: the stares, blatant shoving in the subway, lack of cheese...but I can't complain. Korea is sweet, my friends are great, I'm almost average height, and I have a rice cooker. Life can't get much better than that.