a holiday letter home

So I know I've been horrible at updating, but it has been a very hectic fall-into-winter.  I wrote a letter home for the holidays, rehashing and reflecting on where I'm at now.  It's a holiday letter for the family, so it's long and sappy, but sums up the feeling of my year in Korea in as brief a way as I can (and still SO much is missing, GAH!)

성탄절 잘 보내요!^a

메리 크리스마스!^b

December 2010

Happy Holiday from the Eastern Hemisphere!

Since the holiday season kicked off, and let’s just include everything from July 4^th potluck bbqs to Thanksgiving feasts to the quickly approaching Christmas and New Year’s revelries, being on the other side of the world makes celebrating a bit trickier.  In fact, being on the other side of the world where ovens, cheese, bread, and decent wine and chocolate are rare, the reality of missing out on these holidays settles even stronger in the deep recesses of my soul, namely, my stomach.  But the cravings for home are burdens I am always ready to face when the opportunity of a new adventure presents itself.  Alissa takes on Asia. 

Almost a year in Korea and this country and all its odd charms have worked very hard to fill the holes of a home back in the states.  I’ve eaten some amazing (김치, 김밥, 파전, 호떡) and not-so-amazing things (worst being 번데기, silk worm larvae), drank even more amazing things (oh 막걸리 makeolli, how I will miss you), and amazed myself with my mastery of chopsticks.  I bow to all adults and elders, exchange gifts with the proper hands, and leave my shoes at the door without a second thought.  Navigating the Korean culture comes naturally now.  I even take my toilet paper with me to the bathroom, fetch the water at the kimbap shops, and never expect a divided check.  I am used to the “Conundrums of Korea” as I like to call them, where following a strict code and the-way-things-are-is-end-all-be-all attitude (don’t even try to change an item on a menu, even leaving a strip of ham off of something they are making fresh) and then schedules and plans will change last minute, with no warning.  I respond to these conundrums with an “Oh, Korea” acceptance and go with the flow, perhaps the best lesson this culture can teach anyone.  There are some things, however I will never adjust to, such as the smelly bathrooms, squat toilets (where I refuse to go #2), the pushing and shoving and horrible queuing etiquette, and not being allowed to try things on in the shops.  It’s all part of my Korea, though—good, bad, funny, smelly—this exciting chapter in my story. 

My Korea isn’t just Korean—it’s actually less Korean than you’d think.  I’m not a tourist, and not a Korean, but a Waegook, a foreigner (Western/English speaking) living in Korea.  There are loads of us, and we do what any Westerners that don’t know a language would do—we glue ourselves together by our mutual outsider-ness, our mutual stranded-ness in small apartments, and our mutual love to party.  So every weekend, every evening, we slip outside of the very Korean world that is our work life and come together with an excitement appropriate for reunions with long-lost family members.  Oh yea, we have fun.  We meld our cultures together, collide it with Korea, and a strange amalgamation of accents, customs and dance moves is born.  And this is our community, our friends, our family.  All of us, only digitally connected to our home continents, have bonded with a waste-no-time-this-is-it intensity.  Inside jokes, nicknames, trust, love, all the things we take years to develop in our comfortable lives happens in moments over here.  It’s wonderful.  My “Korean Family.”

With the help of my Korean and Waegookin companions, I have made this year the most eventful one of my life, determined not to waste a moment.  Every weekend I set a rule for myself: a bit of culture, a bit of partying.  Balance is important.  So taking advantage of Korea’s excellent infrastructure, I set out on a new adventure and leave my wonderful city of Gumi almost every weekend (I think so far, I’ve stayed in Gumi about 5 weekends since I’ve been here).  I’ve seen more of Korea than most of my coworkers or students—as of yet I’ve been to all but one of the provinces.  I hunted down every excuse to visit a place I could find: Green tea festivals, Strawberry festivals, Soju and Makeoli festivals, Mask festivals, Cherry Blossom festivals, Breakdancing festivals, Fireworks, Graffiti festivals, Lantern festivals (Korea loves its festivals).  My favorites were the Boryeong Mud festival where we rolled around in anti-aging mud on a beach like a bunch of three year olds all weekend, or the Jisan Valley Rock festival where I camped in the mountains with amazing music and dancing and revelry.  The weekend adventures are fantastic.

Better than the weekends though, are the real holidays.  Beijing for a week was my first visit to China, where I walked on the Great Wall and saluted Mao (to the chagrin of the guard next to me) and visited temple upon temple.  A week in Beijing in a heatwave reinfused me with a whole new love for Korea, and made even Korea feel clean.  Another week was spent on Jeju-do (Korea’s Hawaii) where we rode scooters and swam on black sand beaches and met the sunrise from the cliffs of a crater (yea, I climbed it twice at 5am).  And one of the best times of the year was a 2 1/2 week visit from my friend Kacye from back home, where I got to get excited about Korea all over again, desperately, and somewhat defensively, trying to prove to her how wonderful my Korea is.  And I got to share a piece of home with everyone here.  The goodbye was a bit sad.

My adventures continue, and I can’t wait.  In my sights are Malaysia, Thailand, more of Korea.  When my heels are clicked and I find myself back in Kansas, I can’t wait to see what I find; just as much of an adventure will come in Kansas as it did in Korea.

This whole experience makes me feel simultaneously more and less connected with the people I love—all across the world.  Skype, Facebook, Email, these digital tools that make us feel connected and yet remind us that we aren’t connected in the warm-blooded way we need to be (like hugs) at least give us something.  But while I am terrible at keeping constant correspondence, or even keeping my blog updated, all of you are with me, all the time, in every experience.  When Grammie died, it hit home even more, how far away I am from everyone back home, but how strong we are still connected.  And while every experience here is different (and sometimes lacking) from the way things are done back home, I am able to enjoy the new things and gain a whole new appreciation for what I’ve left behind (and will definitely relish when I return to it). 

It doesn’t matter where I am or who I meet or how much time I have with them, it what I do in that time that matters.  I don’t want to be just a red herring in someone else’s story; I want to be a positive force that contributes to the story.  It’s about impact.  It’s about infusing every moment, every interaction, with all the honesty and joy and love I have to offer.  Sharing, building, passing it on.  It’s too bad that all these feel-good thoughts only seem to enter the mainstream discussion around the holidays.  Cliché as it sounds, we should be treating everyday like the holidays, living and sharing to the extreme.  I didn’t need to travel halfway around the world to learn that life should be a celebration, but it sure has helped me keep celebrating the new tastes along with the old. 

Wishing you all the constant revelry and wonder that comes when we share our lives with those around us.  Keep the connections strong and keep feeling the Happy Holidays all the other days. 

Love and Peace from the East!

P.S. To all of you who have followed my adventures with interest, who have given me the gift of your thoughts, love, time, or goodies (especially the goodies ^_^), thank you so much.  You have filled me with so much happiness and love I could burst into thousands of brilliant colors (I still have fireworks on the brain).   

a. “Seongtancheol jal bonaeyo” = have a good Christmas

b. “Merry Chrismusuh!” = Merry Christmas

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.

powerful little collisions

a few weeks ago, under explosions in the sky of pohang and swimming rivers of makoli that fed into bukbu beach, I met a really fantastic man visiting friend here in SoKo.  Connections ensued, and for two weeks our paths collided in the skies of gimcheon and in the woods of jisan and now he is off and away in saipan.

in jisan I found more.  I ran into an EPIK guy, from orientation, whose name was less memorable than his face, and somehow through smiles and cocktail bag chats our paths converged through the maze of the festival.  

and then there were the gyeongsaners i found beneath an umbrella toasting me with buckets and enticing me under their shade to catch up, but instead of catching up, my saipan friend and i followed a diversion down to the creek where our universes crashed head-on with Hoon and Junghwa and Hong, where tequila sunrise and moleskine notebooks presented an arena for some truly epic wandering and wondering.  I saw them again this weekend, reunited by a jisan band and the bars of seoul.  seoul for the soul, this therapy in the form of conversation and poetry session in a red-boothed bar.  

and then there was the pink-haired british pin-up, who I only briefly reconnected with walking down the streets of Seoul, opposite ways, but both stopping for a shout and cheers to our shared memory

and then I revisited the morning, the sunrise service of Jisan, where i met rob and becca, both from different groups, brought together by our circle of singing and drinking koreans enjoying sunrise setting on our festival.  becca who danced and ran for drinks with me, i bumped into Saturday night in Hongdae while out with the Hoon and Junghwa, my other Jisaners.  And amazed faces said it all just then.  and then Mr. Rob, British Rob, with the smile-big-for-life face, just as familiar in Sunday afternoon revelry as he was in Monday morning revelry at Jisan, I ran into him at an Irish Pub in Itaewon.  

and then the man getting the rat tattoo while B2K were waiting or their ink, bumped into us on the street the next day, the pain still fresh in his eyes, with some local know-how to get to the yuk (station).  

these are not all of them.  not even close.  Here, I mostly have the recent, recurring ones.  The ones in this past month that have rocked me, and them, enough to make a lasting note in each of our lives.  I'll give em a whole post ^_^

Almost 49million people in this country, and yet we bounce around and run into each other like charged little molecules, gravity and whatever ions we need to exchange pulling us back into each other again and again.    I love the smallness and infinite vastness of this world.  I love that I can have a thirty minute conversation with a complete stranger and know that we will both carry it with us, impacted by our words and shared energy for as long as we need to remember it.  Even when he's off in Saipan, or she's swallowed up again in Seoul, they carry a bit of me with them.

x

On a side note, it has been ages--AGES, I get it!-- since I have last posted.  Sorry.  SoKo never stops, never sleeps, and so neither do I.  

Quick recap, then revisits, I promise: 

Shows I've been to: Major Lazer, International Breakdancing Competition, and Korean Ska Band in Seoul.  Pinnacle the International Hustler, and Funk and Soul DJ set in Busan.  Hood Internet, Teengirl Fantasy, Handsome Furs in Daegu.  Jisan Valley Rock Festival, including Belle and Sebastian, Vampire Weekend, Massive Attack, Pet Shop Boys, Muse, 3rd Eye Blind, a Korean Marley cover band, foam dance tents, a giant pool, sunrise sing-alongs, etc!!!

Festivals: Boryeong Mud Festival (craziest, muddiest party I've ever been to), Seoul International Graffiti festival, Busan Sandcastle festival, some Daegu art festival, Pohang Fireworks festival, Jisan rock festival...I feel like I'm missing some...

And I can't leave out Beijing--7 glorious days exploring past-present-future crammed into one of the most interesting cities I've ever been in.  Phew.  

School starts this week, but the fun don't stop (but playing around with the language and using poor grammar will...)

apologies, apologies...i am enjoying myself far too much

Korea is taking my breath away.  Inflating me slowly and then sending me squealing, whirling, careening with a mad intense joy across this country while I exhale the giant breath that was the week.  I can't keep up.  The blogging has been lacking.  I look back at the last time I've written and realize how far behind I've become.  There is no way I will be able to record all of these memories.  No way I will be able to share them.  No way I will be able to forget them.

I try to write of the daily life, things I'd like to share.  From my mission to build the self-worth of hundreds of over-worked Korean high schoolers, to pinching at kimchi and conversation in the lunchroom.  English my only weapon (and a few, very few broken shards of Hangul).  Walks around the lake after lunch.  Moving to the table for coffee to laugh and stab shared fruit with toothpicks.  All the while, Geumo San winks at us through the window.  The quick syllables of Hangul have become my soundtrack, fluid, fast.  Highly emotive.  I love it.  A phrase a day--I am trying.

I walk to and from school with Woody each day.  Annyonghasayos and bows to all the adults of my alley.  They respond with smiles and a drawn out Ne.  They like me.  This oddity of a resident.  I like them.

Night classes Monday and Wednesday teaching writing to ridiculously gifted 1st and 2nd graders who fill my subversive fix with a the raw honesty of their experience, unabashed when free from the eyes and ears of the administration.  The positivity revolution I hope to spread has begun.

Explore the city Tuesday and Thursday nights with the other Waegooks.  I try for a different spot each time.  So far we've found too many pasta places, some fabulous hofs, and the most delicious flavored makoli.  Twiggum and Kimbop and Hoddok.  Yum.  I fear in a year I won't even see all of Gumi, there are so many spots to sample.  And Gumi is only for during the week.

But that is not even a typical week anymore.  I can't remember the last 5 day work week I've had.  Weekends and weeks spill into each other and it all becomes one long, gulp of life.  Experience, one-after-another, is the theme of this.  Vacation?  Hell no.  THIS is LIFE.  Live it up.

Every weekend--and every weekday, free-from-teaching holiday--I find myself somewhere new.  I return to some cities, but always to discover new sites, new dives, new secrets.  Weekends are for Westerners, for Waegooks, for indulgence to the Nth degree.  We could be crazy, abrasive, ignorant tourists, but instead, we inhabit the lacuna of South Korea--not quite Korean, not quite Western tourist.  The way of the Waegook (I must blog about this more in the future).  There is always a healthy cocktail of culture and partying and nature and bonding.

Friends come fast and are scattered across the railways, offering beds and guides and company and an insider's hookups in each city we visit.  To make this experience all the more thrilling, there is no difficulty in rallying the troops for a bit of fun.  All that is required is a good attitude, being down for anything, and having no expectations.  I've caught last-minute boat tours across Busan, watched the bulls fight in Cheongdo, striped Daegu Waldo-style, rolled through Gyeongju on ATVs and bicycles and swan boats, soaked in a green tea bath overlooking the coast of Boseong, drank makoli on a tower overlooking suncheon, paraded through Pohang in Pajamas, rode a motorcycle across the coast, hiked mountains, walked through cherry blossoms...etc...etc...I have been dancing my way across South Korea.

Tomorrow is sports day at school and then I leave to Max it out on Bukjido, camping for Buddha's Birthday.  Nothing like spending three days on an uninhabited island with friends from around the world.  Makin each moment matter, each moment a memory, the sun adds to the freckles and the story continues to write itself into me.