a coast full of wishes and a sky full of dreams: jeju one

"We Love Having You Here." Jeju's greeting, on banners and highway arches and posters, was such a great welcome, and such a mutual feeling. I LOVED being there. Loved it.  For almost a week during my Chuseok holiday (Korean "Thanksgiving" for honoring the ancestors), I spent my days in a fluid heaven, where ocean sky land all morphed around me, constantly shifting, continually amazing.  Blue green white black in every shade.  Thanks be filled me.  The colors of Jeju are lush in their vibrance and stark in their contrasts.  Lavarock, glorious in its black porous mystery, binds the scenery together, whether in stone-stacked wishes or in bulging-eyed grandfather statues.  The sea writhes against the coast and disappears into the sky and the sky leads you into the peaks of Mt. Halla, the green carrying you right back down to the sea.  The effect of it all sort of rolls you around in a sensory overload of wonder.  Pure blue green sea mist bliss.

The flight from Gimhae in Busan was unbelievably short.  We were already landing and the attendants were still handing out beverages.  Descent with the tangy taste of Jeju tangerines.  Sadly, my vacation was rather lacking in citrus, but to my surprise the price of the famous fruit was ridiculous (mainly because it had all been packaged up and sent off for Chuseok).  The island was bigger than the maps made it seem, and Jeju-si (city) greeted us, looking like a lazy version of most other Korean cities, but all made up in palm trees.  The sea, the sky, the clouds, the green...woah!!!  What a great backdrop for this city to cozy up to.  But we hopped right onto a bus and skipped the city, watched it fall away through the bus windows, replaced by vegetation both wild and neatly manicured and divided into lavarock-lined squares.  We coasted through a twisty ride that took us right into the misty robe keeping Hallasan from our view and made our way to Jungmun.  45 minutes by bus and we had reached the southern coast.

Our pension for the first half of our trip was in Jungmun, nestled back a bit from the resorts, surrounded by short thick orchards of early grapefruit I originally took for limes (so green!).  The next morning we dove into the trees guerrilla-style and liberated a fat, lumpy, ripe-looking grapefruit to be our companion, burden, and photo prop for the remainder of the day.  We never did eat it, but left it sitting on the table of our kitchen the day we left, so I guess we only took it for a bit of an adventure before returning it to its home.  I'd like to think our fruit enjoyed our mischief.

The first morning I woke early and walked into town hunting out a store, breakfast, something.  It was a bit of a hike, and I was rewarded with some amazing views of a river and waterfall, the sleepy town waking up, sun kissing all the Minbaks (guest houses) and seafood restaurants.  Hiking back, with heavy bags in the steamy morning sun was not quite as enjoyable, but I played the adjuma a bit, proudly bent over with my haul.

That day we found no luck renting our scooters, so instead wandered down to the coast by the resorts.  We found the coast, golf-course green lawns suspended on sheer cliffs over the sea, but not so high as to make the beaches inaccessible.  We found the "secret beach" mentioned in Lonely Planet, right underneath the Hyatt, and five minutes hike down the olle (walking trail) brought us into some prehistoric paradise.  The cliffs scooped around us, black stone walls tucking us into a little beach (white sand here)  left us feeling completely isolate --until some newlyweds wandered down for some sexy photography, and then some Koreans (high heels included) were headed in as we were hiking out.  Our not-so-secret secret beach was a fantastic start to the day, though.

We were enthralled by these crazy black and green spiders that were literally everywhere on the island.  The walk from that beach to the next had us stopping every few feet trying to take pictures of them, but the elusive buggers wouldn't let my camera work its magic.

The rest of our beach exploration took us up by the Hyatt and a short walk down the cliffs on the other side to a bigger beach of calico sand and a backdrop of a pre-pubescent jungle (sure was trying though).  Into the water (warm water!!!), we stripped down and rode the waves and I found myself bubbling up with the ancient volcanic charge of the island, or maybe just joy, but whatever it was, I felt phenomenal.
The sand peppered us in so many different colors, left us gritty and sparkling, as we walked through the trees with our grapefruit, feeling the hum of bugs and leaves and wind and wild that lapped the edges of the well-groomed resorts.  Then we crashed the Hyatt.  Showered off our grit, laid in their lounges, accepted the warmth of their full-sized towels and played rich divorcees.  Next time, we'll be sure to take our gold sandals and giant jewelry to play the part even better.

That night we played chicken with a storm that never seemed to come, but watched the wind play tricks with the land over a bottle of wine on our balcony.  The three of us marinated in the feel-goodery of our adventure, the wine warming us up enough to send out our own wishes, creating and stating our futures, locking into them the sure things (like ocean views and wild leaves and skies that never stand still) and inviting all the wonder and adventure of the unsure.  Magical, spiritual, cheap-wine drunk revelries...what greater way to give our thanks on our official Chuseok evening?

The next morning we were up early to good news--we had scooters!!!  This was my must for the trip, and the taxi dropped us off at a little shop where we picked up our rides and became road warriors bonafied.  I felt like Mad Max or Che on holiday.  It was AWESOME!

But after a brief lesson, helmet selection and decisions on direction, we were off.  We cruised along the coast, the whole time Jeju playing tricks on us with its beauty, trying to distract us enough to get us in a wreck.  But we prevailed!
We found a spring-fed tide pool by accident, and had a very cold dip (toes only for me) with a few children and nearby fisherman before getting back on our bikes and making our way to Cheonjiyeon Falls.

This waterfall is supposedly the only one to feed directly into the sea in all of Asia, but the way Korea claims all of its landmarks are the -est of something makes me wonder how accurate this fact is.  Either way, it was stunning.  A very short walk down some stone steps, led us to some great photo-ops, which Koreans love to take full advantage of.  There was also a group of them under a tarp picnicking--two other things Koreans love, avoiding the sun and communal dining outdoors.
We climbed down into the mist, right next to the roar, and let the force of that water talk to us.  These moments, when even together, we slip into silence and let the sights speak to each of us, are so powerful and restorative.  The whole vacation was like that.  Especially when I was on the scooters ^_^.

After the falls, we took off down the coast in search of a beach but let the look of a coming storm scare us back to our resort.  The storm never came, but we were rewarded with another beautiful waterfall when driving back, and Kate and I parted ways with Candice and made our way back to our calico beach for a bit more ocean bliss.  While we were there, we ran into pals from Busan, other EPIKers.  Chris joined us for swimming and lazing and big talks on the beach, and we shared our secret of the Hyatt service with him.  Then Kate and I hopped back on the scooters and headed inland.

We cruised up towards Hallasan.  Neither of us wanted to devote a whole day of our trip to climbing it, but seeing the view of the island was on my list.  Hallasan peeks over the whole island, a gradual cone that spikes into a long-dead volcano crater right in the center.  The highest peak in Korea.  Half the day you can see it from anywhere on the island, and the rest of the time, clouds hide it away.  Kate and I scooted our way up to the 1100meter high rest area.  The sun was shining, but dipping low, and for the first time I regretted my lack of pants.  We cut through the forest and curved through switch back and I was so proud of myself for my road skills.  We had it down.
We stopped at a giant white satellite that was shooting signals out into space, trying to communicate with whatever was out there.  No answer so far.  Keep trying Korea, it's almost the future.
The satellite was so impressive though, this giant white machine cutting through the forest, little black grandfather statues protecting it.  Such an odd juxtaposition of past and future over looking the entire island, clear out where the horizon blurred and earth and sky didn't seem to mean anything anymore.

We finally made it to the lookout point.  The island was beautiful from this high up.  Unlike mainland Korea that is full of low forested mountains, Jeju is mostly flat (or gradually slanting up towards Hallasan) and covered in low forested volcanic cones.  The effect is beautiful and alien and a constant reminder that we are in a place so unlike our home.

After enjoying the view and braving (Kate not me) the worst toilet in Korea, we made our way back down the mountain, back to the resort, shivering as the sun went down and the wind whipped us into tears.  Thrills to the max!  Our day ended over drinks and a delicious pizza at the local Western restaurant Gecko's.  We colored menu placemats and cheers Jungmun goodbye, preparing to head East in the morning.

gimhae limbo

One day of class on Monday, out early, home to pack and not sleep. Too excited? Not sure. Just ready for sun sand citrus...Jeju-do here we go.

Chuseok, what Koreans say is exactly like "your Thanksgiving," but is really nothing like our Thanksgiving. There is no turkey, no mashed potatoes, no pumpkin pie. I'm not really sure if there is any thanksgiving to be had.
There are gifts, also, which is unlike ours. And hollas at the ancestors. Fruit, soju, cigarrettes--whatever items shoved into the soil you think might bring smiles and blessings from the long-dead. Hanboks are out in all their flashy, psychadelic patterned finery. Korean family holiday, where everyone flocks to the tombs of their ancestors or to the beaches to forget about them.
And all we were prepared with were horror stories of trying to travel on these days--which we have been warned with since we first got here. Tuesday - Thursday (Chuseok falling on Wednesday) are the red-calendar days we all are given off. Most schools either have Monday or Friday off--which is another of those no-sense Korean things, because honestly my day of Monday class was a big waste of time teaching to a bunch of empty desks with shells of students already checked out.
But now i'm gone too!!! Another holiday notch to the date book.
Caught an 8am bus out of Gumi to Gimhae, playing it safe to avoid the crazy traffic, only to find my three-party ginger crew to have a full day of relaxing in an airport. It's nice and relaxing. A nice, small, open spaced airport, where we've laid on patios, walked back and forth across the bridges connecting domestic and international, and only just now discovered a free computer lounge. Holiday, holiday, miles away but not there yet...

Rock out wit chuseoks out! -- my phrase of the week. I'm island bound and getting a bit ansy, but only good things are in me and only better things await.

killing me softly with kpop

killing me loudly rather.  or slowly.
ok, not at all, actually.  But lord does kpop get under the skin.  Walk down Daegu downtown, through all the skincare kimbap jewelry clothes cellphone shops and you get a blaring mashup of the top four kpop songs of the moment.  KPOP is NOW!!! No, no it's really not.  Please, please stop.  Or just turn down the volume.  Even with headphones in, volume blaring the Fleet Foxes in a force-field of folk goodness, bop-ee-bop-ee-bop-ee invades.  kpop invasion in my earlobes, in my brain, jarring my bones...GAH!  Paired with the blaring neon, the streets are alive, raging like a coke fiend, or rather more like a kid on a serious sugar rush who just added some pop rocks and orange soda to the mix, the whole thing bubbling over in a noisy vomit of color and fizzle. 

Rant aside, let me more rationally devote a bit of time to the abrasive quality of the national music of the plastic-for-the-masses culture in the ROK.
I may be a total music snob, but I am not a discriminant one.  If there is talent--even at the production level--I am not too good to admit to enjoying a song.  I am not above movin my hips to Lady Gaga just because she is popular or throwing up my arms and shoutin for Shots!  However, there is a bit more to talent that being the face in front of--or programming behind--a catchy tune.  At some level, I would hope for creativity.  But, like many things in mass-produced and fast-tracked manufactured pop-culture, once you find a formula that works you will use it use it use it til its useless.  Pair that mentality with a trend-following community culture that drives Korea and bam: Enter KPOP.  KPOP is like a drug for the blinking neon masses.  Give them beats that are familiar, an addictive and contagious phrase and you've got the next soundtrack for the boys outside of SK(one of the many cellphone stores).

But KPOP definitely doesn't thrive on sound alone--the image is its lifeblood.  All young, beautiful, reconstructed teen and twenty-somethings.  As plastic as the music they're attached to.  The men look like women, the women look like barbies.  They all defy the conservative leanings of Korean culture and ooze sex through the hair extensions and very high-reaching fishnets.  So what?  So what if it's sexy?  I don't really care about that as much, except when its the girls who are about 15--but that's really no different than Miley is it? 
Well, how about the fact that half of them already have had plastic surgery.  How about the fact that they are rail thin, completely made-up, and promoting the standard of beauty that the Korean public can literally only achieve by going under the knife.  As if plastic surgery wasn't popular enough in Korean culture, let's have the very pop stars they all adore act as walking adverts for it...

And then there's the dancing.  Man, look at them move--boys and girls alike, they are poppin lockin throbbin and doin a kind of rhythm  most white boys couldn't acheive even with the tutelage of a master like Mr. Miyagi.  But Koreans CAN do it.  My highschool students have them memorized--they get up and teach me the moves in class.  Perfectly.  Maybe I'm just bitter because I can't mirror those stars.  No, that's a copout excuse.  I think--I know--that I'm bitter because the dances are taking away the freedom of movement.  Even dancing has been over-directed, simplified, and produced by the kman. 

All these factors culminate in the KPOP performance.  The examples I've seen--live at festivals, on stage in the streets, on tv, and in the internet videos my students love to share--are laughable.  Big lights, big sound, big color, lots of skin, lots of dancing...lots of lip syncing.  KPOP songs couldn't exist without the vocoder, and KPOP performances couldn't exist without the play button.  Flash shake smile distract. 

I'll admit that American popstars are just as fabricated, just as mass-marketed, just as damaging to the average female's body image, and quite often just as bad, but that brings me to the real issue, the real difference in the KPOP scene--where the money goes.  It's no secret that the cast of KPOP allstars are grossly underpaid (in comparison with other celebrities, and in proportion to their monetary worth).  These faces, young, often Korean-Americans who are swept back to their Motherland with promises of stardom, gain the immediate screaming loyalty of fans, cha-ching of commercial deals and guaranteed sell-out crowds that keeps the Won signs in their producers eyes blinking neon bright.  And they get such little cuts of the enormous amounts of revenue they bring in, that there are even lawsuits and group breakups over the control held over the group members.  The beloved 2PM boy group is no more because of such a breakup, news given to me through the tears of one of my high school students.
So it's disgusting to me, the control that the men with money hold over Korean pop culture while keeping so much of that profit for themselves-- they get cheap hot labor to sing and dance for them, screaming young fans to crowd dance buy move wear whatever they are told, they get cellphones skincare clotheslines chicken shops--you name it to--begging to be allowed to purchase those faces to sell their products, and they get the perpetual anxiety of an entire nation of people who feel they will never be pretty skinny western white enough.  Won Won Won for the money, two for the show, three to get ready (you know the rest)  The big Kman won.

So, in honor of my rant, here are some catchy links to kpop videos for your viewing pleasure:












soon to come: a post devoted to musical experiences in Korea I actually enjoy...

a run in with korean kryptonite

ok, I admit, I'm not totally invincible...thank you very much, Korea, for needing to prove that to me the week before 추석. 


After a few days of intensifying scratchy, gravelly liquification taking place inside me, I finally caved today and took a sick one.  Considering I've been here 7 months and this is the first--despite all the nonstop festivities of this life--I still argue in favor of my immortal status.  But, fearing a runny-nose-ruin of my island vacation, I am willing to concede defeat and seek treatment---or disappointment, as so often is the case when "professionals" give advice conflicting with my self-diagnosis.

Exhausted and dragging, dripping and sagging (but not too sick for word play!) I left the school armed with Hangul--the name of a clinic and my huge list of symptoms scratched onto a sticky note by my lovely coteacher-fairy-godmother, June.   I also should mention that I walked out of the office carrying a gallon of honey--no joke, a gift from one of the book salesmen--and instructions from the other English teachers to only drink warm liquids and to use the honey that is very good for you.

Drop off the honey, begin the adventure.

To begin with, taxi man isn't too sure where the clinic is.  I give him directions to the dong (which I'm quite good at doing) but since I've never been either, I'm no help.  He finally drops me off at a corner and points to the higher floors of a building (you get used to looking up pretty quickly in these stacked cities) and the name does indeed match June's print, and there's a happy little elephant next to the sign.  I'm already cheered.
Short-lived.  I climb the stairs to find the place long-since deserted with hangul scrawled across the door in marker (that I obviously can't read) and back down the stairs, outside, to find all of the pharmacies closed and June obviously in class and not picking up her phone.  But the sun is shining, I am not at school, and I will not be deterred.  I get ahold of Lily (boss of the English office, though easily the most clueless one of us all, gotta love her) and she tells me to walk to McDonald's and find the clinic across the street.  Just like in Daegu, where a plastic surgeon and skincare office are on top of McDonald's, it seems that Korea provides easy access to all the side-effects the greasy giant gives out.
But I couldn't remember how to get to McD's, and fate led me to ask the woman in Paris Baguette, who with the help of awkward charades, told me instead to just walk past Mr. Pizza.  Well, never have so many fast-food chains been the answer to my medical needs, but there indeed was the exact clinic I had found deserted across the street, relocated and lively just across the crosswalk where the Green Man could have led me instead.

The clinic is small, the first floor of several office buildings.  Cushy benches and KPOP fill the waiting room.  I give them my card, wait awhile (actually only a very short while) and am called back.  The doctor, who has a sort of overgrown frazzled look about him is quite the contrast to all the well-dressed well-pressed flight-attendantesque nurses.  He even has one of those large round mirror things on his head (I still have no idea what these are or what they're used for and am too lazy to actually look it up).  When I am called into the examining room, there is still another girl with her mother being examined--no doors, no privacy (not that I can understand, but if I could...)  The examining room is just one open doorway from the waiting room.  It feels like an over-crowded room belonging to a dentist--there is no bed, just a big chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by all kinds of instruments and gadgets and stainless steel, the doctor and his desk right next to it.  He was really nice, sticking tiny cameras in my ears and nose and throat and showing me things I really think are concealed by skin for a reason, describing what he was going to prescribe and telling me to come back in 2 days.  And the nurses--no I'm calling them attendants from now on--stood by in their pink cardigans, not really doing anything until they escorted me the ten feet back to the front desk.  The whole process, entry to exit, took maybe twenty minutes (overestimating) and I'm walking out the door with my paper for the pharmacist.

One last hiccup, since we could never get off so smoothly as that.  I cross the street to one of the now-open pharmacies.  Wait in a small line, hand over my prescription to be told no and pointed out the door.  Runny nose on the verge of breaking, I wait for Green Man to guide me back across the street, back into the clinic, where a lovely attendant (who I feel guilty for not smiling at) walks me outside, two stores to the left and bows me into the pharmacy.  Hand over my paper.  A few moments later, my name is called, and I am delivered a strip of individually-wrapped pill packets and instructed to take a packet 3 times a day.  Mystery meds, no written instructions necessary.  I only have 4 different colors and shapes in my sachets--I've seen people with loads more.

Koreans are notorious for over-diagnosing, over-medicating...BUT as easy as the visit was, as much of a comfortable, painless improvement on the American healthcare I am used to, I was still met with the same disappointing cop-out diagnosis: Allergies.  Bullshit.  I haven't been sick or stuffy or weak this whole time, and suddenly, in the span of a few days, I'm a blubbering mass crippled with congestion.  My vote, sinus infection (gross)--there I go again, self-diagnosing...I really should stop that.

Either way, doctor's visit and meds cost me less than four bucks.  The ironic part was that I finally buckled down and splurged on a multi-vitamin.  Prevention, or rather, daily sustained health, costs me more here than it does to have my systems go haywire.  I saw multivitamin pills that would cost about 6 bucks for a bottle at Walgreens going for 48,000won (that's almost $45!!!).  I settled on the strawberry vanilla chewable multivitamin (ugh).  Cheers to our health.

And my mantra continues: healthy and strong healthy and strong healthy and strong heal...

digging the summer from under my nails

School is back on. Summer is officially over--the free weeks, not the heat. We're still melting, bitching and moaning about the humidity, relying too heavily on air-cons and paparazziing our weekend adventures. The parties are back to being punctuated by days of desk-warming and repeat-after-mes to smooth away the engrish ingrained in the over-worked brains of Korea's youth.

I missed my students, my coteachers, my school. It's good to be back.

I miss summer already.

Beaches, mud, festivals, Beijing...the last few months have overloaded me with new friends, crazy visions and more dancing than even I thought possible (is that possible?).

International BBoy Championships, International Graffiti Festival, Seoul: July 3-4

Heading up to Seoul for a weekend with the girls, we watched poppers and lockers and breakdancers battle it out onstage while beats were delivered from some top djs from around the world. All of Korea's dance traditions were brought together in an amazing performance of popping, locking, traditional drumming, martial arts, breaking and even some fans to bring it all together. Best cultural display I've experienced in Korea.

We walked by a river where graffiti artists climbed ladders to tag their soul onto Seoul cement. We sipped coctails in the sky above the lights and noise of one of the great sprawl of the city. Our version of a funkified sex and the city weekend--just Seoul instead of New York, flipflops instead of prada heels. Love my girl time.

Boryeong Mud Festival: July 17-19

A soju-filled bus ride delivered our crew to the West coast waters of Daecheon beach in the middle of the night. Small town, huge waves, loads of white people. We crammed into over-booked, under-cooled motel rooms, two on the floor, two on the cement bed. Shared our bunks with mosquitos. Woke up to rain, wind, and giant waves. Didn't stop us from finding the mud. We slid, wrestled, hosed and painted. Walked around in wild colored war paint--intox and detox all at once, hail the amazing powers of Boryeong mud. Rode waves and fought to survive and celebrated our exhausted triumph with 30+ bottles of makoli the restaurant owner kept going and purchasing from the store for us. Woke up to a sunny day and kissed our dirty bodies goodbye to return to inland civilization.

Pohang Fireworks Festival: July 25-26

Five of us cram into a car late Friday night and roadtrip up the east coast in search of the penis park. We stop in several small, dark towns, knock on doors of minbaks (guest houses), are turned away no-room-in-the-inn style (poor Mary, how we empathize), and finally end up on a cliff about a small port town in a shining-esque motel with an empty front desk and a vending machine for room keys. Not sure about the size and worth, we snag a key left on the desk and sneak into a room, crumpled from the one-hour bookings notorious in rumors of Korea's seedy hush-hush sex scene. Whack in our 50,000won, three in bed, two on floor, giant splooge stain next to me on the headboard (lovely reminder of what awaits us in the morning...). The coast is beautiful, the penis park is hilarious. An actual park like many others, with traditional pagodas, shrines, yet this one is teeming with phalluses--including a ten foot penis statue we all rode like a bull and a moving penis cannon. Also including a recreated whore-house with a man pile-driving a woman in a room scattered with old currency, a man in the next room counting it all up, and a little boy peeking in on them through a window. All with unnecessary detail. The visiting Koreans laughed just as much as we did. Conservative culture my ass.

We left for Pohang, in time to spend a bit of time with the crew on Bukbu beach-ee. Posco, the steelworks factory that juts out across the right side of the beach, usually offers little more than an industrial rape of the scenery and the potential development of a superpower for all of us who swim in its toxic waters. But this weekend, Posco offered an explosive celebration to make any July 4th display jealous. 87,000 fireworks set off in one hour. Massive. Four countries were competing with their displays, Korea, of course won (we all thought Japan deserved it, but that would NEVER happen here)and a bonus KPOP girl group performance. Thousands of Koreans crammed onto the river walk, streets, hills, all standing there, not oooing and aaahing at all. Just crammed, craned people, clapping when performances ended. Very un-Korean, considering their screams an wails even at seeing someone cute on the screen in the classroom.

Required night of Pohang makoli revelry brought us back to Bukbu, where late night swimming and dancing in the sand led us into the morning. A beautiful, explosive weekend in so many ways.

Jisan Rock Festival: July 31-Aug 2

Early Friday a few of us bused up north to the mountain resort of Jisan. Instead of a ski lodge, the valley had been converted to camping rock festival and cancun spring break. Away from straight-line, back-to-back tent city, people set up camp in every odd bit of land they could grab in the trees. We staked our claim in a flower bed, sleeping in the tiger lilies and a forest filled with spiders. We beat the heat in the giant pool they had built at the bottom of the ski slopes (massive!!!) and rolled and battled on giant inflatable toys when we weren't sipping mojitos (REAL lime and mint!!!) poolside. Saw some amazing Korean bands that didn't play Kpop. Got up front and rocked out to Belle and Sebastian, Vampire Weekend (BEST), Massive Attack, Pet Shop Boys, and others. Spent three glorious days rocking out in the ROK: great DJs, danced like wild animals with the fire dancers at the Poi Stage, painted faces and bodies, buckets of tequila, foam dance tents and more. Made poetry in a creek with a bunch of amazing Koreans. Bailed on the midnight bus home to stay another night for the best treasure: I stumbled upon a circle of Koreans in the empty main stage field. We grew to about 25 for a Monday morning sing-along, our harmonies boosted by the free end-of-festival booze and the charge still pulling us through the weekend.

It was a very crunchy Monday, all of us traveling home, wordless, brain-dead. Amazing.

Beijing: Aug 3-10

One week in Beijing was not enough. We passed through metal detectors and saluted Mao at the beginning and end of our trip, heralding our pass into "communism." China felt less communistic than Korea--it was full of diversity, nasty bathrooms, bums on the streets, and people eager to rip us off if we weren't the wiser (lucky for me, I am a wiz at haggling ^_^). We stayed in a nice hotel if you ignored the sewage smell that would creep in and the fact it was so hidden every taxi ride was a battle. We braved the subway, sometimes so packed you couldn't move to exit), taxis, buses. Navigated our way through hutongs, got our spirit on in temples, climbed the wall (scaled it, more like), smoked hookahs on rooftops, relived the olympic glory in the Bird's nest, ate duck (and I forced down jellyfish), dim sum, more tsingtao beer than I care to recall, haggled for tourist items that for once were appropriately made in china while scorpions writhed on sticks in snack street, saw pandas and got pissed about the big cat display, danced through the forbidden city in the rain...phew. Not all of it. Hardly.

    

My top two experiences in Beijing were, however, not listed above. My friend Sean had a friend-of-a-friend one time connect that, through the glories of facebook, saw we were going and met us there. Shanshan, our beautiful tour-guide into the secrets of Beijing. With her help we found ourselves at the finest and oldest 6-story (still had to wait) duck restaurant, a small family restaurant tucked between the skyscrapers of downtown, and to a big gay chinese birthday party Saturday night. We dressed in our beach gear for the theme, took shots of cheap chinese liquor and headed into a posh little apartment-cum-bar filled with half dressed, very hot men, caviar, dancing, little light up party favors, a cake with a penis, and plenty of suggestive smiles. 

 Gay parties are the same back in Kansas, if a little-less polished, a little less Asian-colored (do not mean to sound racist or insensitive, I promise. My friends from these circles will entirely understand) It was wild, ending in an over-packed, over-priced dance club where the men were too focused on their pairings to dance openly, so we left. What a riot of a night.

The other highlight of Beijing was when our group of four became two and Kevin and I, eagerly trying not to waste our last day, had an adventure searching out, and being rewarded by finding, the 798 Art District. We strolled through an old converted industrial section of the city. Factories-cum-galleries. Cafes in tree tops. The entire place was an interactive walk of eye candy. There were sculptures everywhere outside, from a giant train, giant Stalin heads, Giants in cages...it was awesome. We walked, climbed, touched, posed for an unimaginable amount of photos, and finally fled the head to a standing-only bus back to the city, back to the haggling of Silk Street. 

There's so much more to tell.  So much of the city we didn't even see. I can't believe we were going to try and cram both Beijing and Shanghai in one week.  Never would have worked.  So glad we stayed.  Kevin and I really lucked out having that extra day with all we were able to cram into it.

My impression of Beijing was one where past-present-future all collide into a wild and quite interesting study of humanity. The service was terrible, the bathrooms disgusting (I opted for the alley several times after walking in on 6-squatting shitting woman with no stalls to divide them), and we were melting and dripping in the heat the entire time, but we forgive these things, or add them to the flavor of the experience. Beijing was refreshingly diverse--clothing, body type, behavior, structure...It was impressively successful in its chaos.

Bag checks and cameras and metal detectors were constant reminders of regulation, but other than that, it was not the cold hard communist place people invision it to be.

Amazing week. Exhausting, dirty week. It was nice not getting stared at all the time, nice not feeling like a fat cow in a field of gazelles. But I was surprised I found myself very excited to be back in Korea, another land of plastic--but at least plastic smiles and toilet seat covers ^_^

Handsome Furs concert, Daegu: Aug 12

Another amazing night taking down Daegu with Gi and Kelly. Started with dance-juice in a bag (really strong stuff!) from vinaroo, then headed to a club: Teengirl Fantasy (DJ pair from Chi-town) and Handsome Furs danced us into the morning. I got to talk to them for a while at the bar (amazing stories to be shared, really cool people). The epic night (as they always are) ended with us passed out waiting for the am train on the steps of Lotte Dept. store. Laughing the hole way back to Gumi.

Seoul for skin and ska: Aug 14-15

So sick of rice. I miss bread and whiskey and the prairie, so I've got an ode to it tattooed on my back now. Went up to Seoul for the ink with Gi. Spent the day in a tattoo parlor with the boys of B2K (some old R&B group from Cali), watching WWF on one of their laptops. That was painful, the needles weren't.

Jisan reunions followed, catching the end of a Korean ska band and getting drinks with beautiful souls in Seoul. Ran into about 5 different people from the festival. The universe keeps running us into each other.

International Body Painting Festival, Daegu: Aug 29

One of the tamer festivals I've been to in awhile, full of Eye Candy, painted bodies, painted faces, painted nails. We sat on the grass and watched belly dancing, martial arts, norae, mamma mia shouts, and walked around to see the artists marking magic on naked bodies. Quite cool to see.

Followed by the usual Daegu revelry. After a vinaroo pitstop reunited me with some pohangers with paint, I found myself in a colorful crowd: I as an anime doll, with a pirate, a cow, a cherry blossom, some varicose-veined cheeks and a cat. We were about the only ones downtown at night with face paint, and a few odd looks would bring a reminder through the blur that we were quite a site that evening. Sunday brought the discovery of an English commune for hippy expats--a bookstore, organic cafe, clothes-swapping, yoga-teaching, drum-circling top floor of goodness. I will return.

Daegu Wants to Funk: September 4

Finally, a theme party worth getting dolled up for (though my Manhattan crew threw theme parties to put these expat-korean born dress parties to shame). BUT we got our headbands on, shiny tights, bangles, glammed and glittered up our faces and we ladies strut the town to meet at JEEEP (by far our favorite bar in Daegu). Thank you, my dear Mr. Sean Cridge who got the party to happen. Funk and disco ruled the night (except for an odd hour where a different dj took over for a bit. boo) and I am proud to say I lasted til 6 am in leather leggings and my 2nd night of heels in Korea. Smokin!

Three of us ended up in a makoli bar with some random koreans, enjoying squid and peppers and drinking from bowls until the sun came up.

There is an expat summer in-brief. So much more happens. There are too many quirky stories to keep up with, but here we are, celebrating, learning, living...mostly celebrating ^_^

Korea has been kind to us, and while we bemoan our lack of things from home, we revel enough to fill those holes. I make it a goal, everywhere we go, to get some kind of cultural event and some kind of partying in (usually heavier on the latter), and I'm doing a damn good job of it. Experience so much we can't even sleep.

I'm really happy here--a sustained happiness plateau that I've been riding for the past year or so. At this point, I don't feel like I'm doing much growing over here in Korea, just living and getting to know what it means to be a part of these different cultures--westerner, weagook, korean, human. Livin it UP! (And while I'm here, what better way to spend my time than enjoy it, eh?) We are the rockstars in this country--for the locals and expats alike. We gather and build and let loose a storm of excitement wherever we go.  Say kimchi.