Drinking on the Heavy

I've almost killed the fire pit that had been living at the back of my throat, so I made an effort to get out today. When I get sick like that, I always tell myself that I'm going to make these drastic life changes so that I don't get sick like that. No more nights without sleep because of staying out, no more smoking, no more not exercising everyday. I might very well be able to do some of those things. I have been, for example, making more of an effort to exercise everyday, and I'm not doing too bad at that.
As far as not staying up, I don't do that very well. When I drink, I feel like life is much shorter than it already is, and that I must press through sleepiness to get the most out of it. This is, of course, an alcohol and dance music induced delusion that I develop. I'll walk down to the Metro convenience store outside of my apartment at 2:30 in the morning to purchase another bottle of soju about an hour after everyone has left and gone to bed because of morning obligations that we all have. I rarely have problems making it to work when I do this, which is once every couple of weeks, but my head feels like someone was throwing kitchen appliances at it while I was sleeping. This makes sense to me, because whenever I have people over, it seems like every dish, kitchen utensil, and food appliance has been scattered around the apartment in a tornadic, ecstatic food consumption adventure. And it's always worse than it seemed to be when I went to bed.
Well, Jasmine, my friend from university, is coming into town this evening, and I cannot wait for it to happen again. On the telephone, she said, "well, I'm wearing a skirt, so we have to really go all out tonight." Alright then, to the bottle! I cannot, for one second, consider being a bad host by not punishing my body for being sick. Immune system, you brought this on the whole family. Not being able to drink for nearly my entire summer break is your charge.

Jirisan

Sam, Ju-Hi, Derek and I went to Jirisan on Tuesday. Daycations like this are the reason that I enjoy being in Korea. Seoul has it's good points, and there are many, but something refreshing occurs in one's self when they leave the soot- and smog-smeared air of the city for the Korea in which the other Koreans live. That's not to say that other Koreans don't live in other cities as well. They do. That's just not how I imagine it. In fact, most Koreans now live in the cities, and about half of them live in Seoul or the surrounding metropolitan area.
The bus ride seemed much longer than it actually was-- just under four hours. My throat was sore from a previously acquired sickness that I had not yet worn off, and that had almost ruined the prospects of me taking any trip further than The Metro, the convenience store outside of my apartment building, for hydrating supplies like water and iced coffee. I came with one adequately packed daypack (see below) that I had gotten from Itaewon several months ago. My inventory included the following: a daypack, multi-purpose Victornox knife, compass, swim trunks, extra shirt, money, desk notebook, pocket notebook, horrible camera, two pens, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, medicines and bandages, Tom Robbins' Jitterbug Perfume, Korean Language Book, cap, sunglasses, and a built in Camelpak for water. I tried to minimize, but this is what I ended up taking. It was just about everything I needed, and it seemed to work out quite well, in the end.
After the bus ride, we got into town and had some delicious pork dish with a bunch of vegetables. I neglected to take any pictures of the food, but it was quite good, and there were, I think, 12 dishes in all. One of the best things about Korean food is the variety of food that one receives with each meal. Jirisan, according to Ju-Hi, is known for is known for people with a culinary prowess. I happen to agree.
When we got to the park, we started hiking almost immediately. We went into the trail, which looked something like a "Charlie in the trees" scene from every movie dramatizing the Vietnam war, not to mention the fact that Derek and Sam had bought these ridiculously large-brimmed straw hats from an outfitter down the road from the restaurant where we ate.
The amount of wildlife in this park was more than I had seen anywhere else in Korea, including the venture to Songnisan. Songnisan, however, had a much better temple. The streams are equipped with miniature waterfalls, and are particularly inviting. The water felt about a few degrees above freezing, but it was still worth it to get in, if not for anything else but the draw of novelty and the need to operate on our lizard brains, as other smaller-minded ancestors of the human race have likely done for a very long time. That's part of the reason I enjoy hiking so much. It synergizes several tasks into one, while making each more enjoyable. It can be exercise, meditation, therapy, sport, concentration, and survival all rolled into one. Once you've walked for a period of time that you deem to be substantial, and then you see something beautiful that you didn't expect to see, you have no questions about whether or not it was worth it to do all of the work that it took to get wherever you have gone. It's not necessarily about reaching the summit (although that is a reward in it's own right), but rather, it is about getting somewhere, and not having gotten somewhere. Oh yeah, and you see how absolutely crazy nature is.
After we decided that it was a good idea to turn around because of the massive thunderstorm that was about to ensue, we saw one of the coolest things I have ever seen an animal do. There was this snake, about 2 feet in length that had just brushed off the trail because it had heard us coming down. In it's mouth was half of a frog with its front legs and head sticking out of the mouth of the snake. Well, needless to say, we knew that this was a good opportunity to get some photos of this fair-weather enemy of humans, the (possibly) death-inducing, venomous snake that had too much to eat. We spent a few minutes trying to get pictures of it while we put peace signs directly above predator and prey. I shall not say anymore about this, suffice it to say that Sam did get video, and with his permission, I will be posting it here at a later time.
It started raining as we were exiting the park and trying to get back to the bus terminal to go back to Seoul. The cab driver took us to the train station instead, telling us that there were no buses to Seoul for the rest of the day, and that we'd have to take trains. I'm glad he did that. having never traveled on a train before. I intend to do so in the future, and frequently. Also, I need to get to the mountains again. I'll work on it.

My throat's on fire, my lungs are at about half-capacity, and I want to stay in bed, but instead I'm going on a pretty long day hike in 지리산 (Jirisan).
This should be pretty, pretty, pretty. I'll post some pictures later.

Arriving in Korea

The elderly country lady at the Wal-Mart checkout lane asked me what the jar of fermented cabbage that I had in my hand was.

“It’s gim-chi,” I said, “It’s something that they eat with every meal in Korea. I’ll be moving there in about a month.”

“Why on earth would you want to do that?” she asked, completely ignorant of any information of the aforementioned nation. Her eyes bugged out and she expressed a kind of disdain that showed no knowledge of what Korea was actually like. For that matter, I had no idea what it was like at the time, other than what I had read about it on the internet.

I trolled the internet for any information whatsoever that I could sponge about this place before I got there, so as to have some understanding about the place before I stepped off the plane. I found a decent amount. In fact, when I actually arrived at the school, I experienced an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu that was aided not only by 72 hours with virtually no sleep (I cannot sleep on planes.) and the fact that I had seen actual pictures of the school before.

After waiting far too long for my luggage, I changed the last of my American dollars into Korean won and walked out of the international terminal into the main lobby of Incheon Airport. There were dozens of people waiting with signs for other people. I spotted my man pretty easily. He was wearing a chauffer’s hat and was holding a large, white sign that said “Mr. Cox.” I met him in the visitor’s area, letting him know that I was his man. He asked me, “Do you need lestaloom?” I asked him to repeat himself, “Do you need lestaloom?”

Ah, yes! Restroom.

“No, I don’t but do you mind if I smoke a cigarette before we get in the car?” It had been over 16 hours since I had smoked a cigarette, and that was the first thing on my mind. After that, we were on the highway into Seoul.

It was dusk, and the cars on the freeway were going about 120kph, in a 100, I think. I'm don't remember exactly, other than the fact that he was flooring it. All of the cars, with the exception of some Mercedes and Audi imports, were Korean, and everything was uniform. Everyone was in a limousine bus, a silver or black taxi, or taxi vans, just like myself.

The closer I got to the city, more signs for the big companies, like LG, Samsung, and Hyundai were posted on the sides of large buildings. The Han River was on the left of the highway, covered in fog, on both sides of the river was endless cityscape. It looks like different cities pieced together in an infinite mosaic metropolis, which is what Seoul essentially is. Once we got closer to the buildings off of the freeway, the buildings’ corporate signs were intertwined with that of high fashion advertisements, for Armani, Deisel, Burberry, and countless other brands.

The ride was over about an hour and a half in. I pulled into an alleyway and met a man named Mr. Kwan that had been waiting in a yellow school van. I get out, try to grab my luggage, and greet the person I assume to be my superior at the school. He knew enough English to say, “I do not speak English.” I knew, at this point, that I was in for something.

He took me upstairs to a motel room, which I mistakenly assumed was my apartment until I spoke to the director of the school on Kwan’s cell phone. I later found out that it was actually a motel where businessmen would meet prostitutes on the lowdown, which was pretty disgusting considering I had to stay there. Some pleasant exceptions presented themselves like fact that I had a new toothbrush, two bottles of water, a coffee and a juice waiting for me every morning when I arrived back until I got my apartment.

I was hungry after traveling too, and I knew I was going to need breakfast. I asked Kwan for food. He did not understand. I said p’ang and motioned to my mouth, and he kind of understood. P’ang is the word for bread in Korean, and bread is what I got. I went to sleep for a couple of hours, and then I went to school. That was the moment I became a resident of Korea.