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

Thursday morning dawned bright and beautiful, once again greeting me earlier than any alarm for teaching I've ever set.  Island sunrises are too good to miss I guess.  The night before left me with some horrible sleep, as Kate and I had watched some British men finding worms in the monkey's their Congo tribe was feeding them-- and that image wormed its way into my dreams, into me.  My parasite anxiety continued into the next few days when I began to discover itchy bumps looking suspiciously like the bedbug marks Gi had brought back with her from Hong Kong.  The bumps are still here, fading now, but the bugs did NOT make it with me off the island (i hope i hope i hope i hope) and I gave them an apocalyptic washing just in case.  But even itchy things and lack of sleep could not keep me from enjoying my island.  No sir.  So back to the adventure...

Kate and I fried up our last bit of raisin bread and butter for breakfast (yummm...), crammed all the leftover veggies in the fridge into a sandwich and set off on our scooters earlier than even EMart would be open.  We rode toward sunrise--actually the sun had already risen, casting shadows from the fat puffy whites all over the land, but we were headed for the east of the island--to Sunrise Peak.  We cruised on the palm-tree-lined highway, claiming our own lane in the lazy traffic.  After we made it through Seogwipo, the other major city besides Jeju City, the view became even more scenic.  The resorts were gone, the buildings were gone;  except for the randomly scattered towns, we were surrounded by tangled vegetation and neat little orchards divided by the lavarock.  And always, just to the right, was the blue, where sea and sky to tempt my eyes away from any semblance of safe scootering.  Glorious.  Crisp, clear, sparkling.  Even the green seemed to sparkle.  And we two speeding through it, leaving a wake of wild ginger joy.  I was laughing and singing a high percentage of my scooter journey, letting my giggly songs be absorbed into the harmony of wind and waves...Wow. how cheesy does that sound?  But it's the truth.  Word.

Thanks to some very helpful advice from our Busan friend Chris (who had returned his scooter to have it rented out to us), we were equipped with the knowledge that we could not drive straight through for hours.  The need for breaks and engine cooling gave us the excuse to even more leisurely cruise along the coast and take a break whenever something looked appealing.

The first stop was at a tiny beach (incidentally the one we were headed for the night before and turned back from).  It was a little after 10:00am and the sun was at that perfect angle to cut into the surf and the sand and set everything a-glitter.  But the real kicker, the real sparkle, was the black sand.  Wow.  I'd never seen anything like it (haven't been to too many volcanic islands).  Tiny little particles of black and gray, peppered with quartz or something clear and shining, made the entire beach sparkle like a disco ball.  Big porous lava rocks, in all shapes and colors, were scattered along the surf's edge, catching the bubbles, adding texture to the shadow, the silhouette that came from looking across the beach into the intensity of the sun's glare.  Oh and danced in it.  Buried our suddenly too-white legs in warm black (and surprisingly soft) mounds of it, and I sat there and felt like I was sitting at the bottom of an hourglass and all the sand had already fallen so I didn't have to worry about time running out, I could just swim around in it at my leisure.

But we had places to go, so back on the scooters were we.  We gassed up again.  Gas stations in Korea are so different from back home.  There is no convenience store.  There are just gas pumps, an attendant, and maybe a bathroom that's clean if you're lucky.  And there is no self-service.  Like all things in Korea, even putting gas in your car is a chance to create a job and display their ethics of service.  So we pay a couple cheon (a few bucks), annyeong-ha-say-yo it and speed away.  Too easy.

We left the highway for the scenic roads in search of the Cinema Museum; we were on a hunt for some hanbok pictures my friend Portia had shown us after her Jeju visit.  Well, the price and lack of stickers caused stingy-traveler-me to change my mind, but it was great fun watching Kate get Koreanized.  After a quick outfit and wig change with 4 different facial expressions captured, ranging from stern to big smiled, we watched the woman work magic with photoshop.  Wow.  Her fingers whisked along, lifting her wrist in a graceful arc the way my piano teacher tried to teach me to end my phrases, but she did it every time she hit the shift key (quite often).  With each of her quick clicks, ginger American perfectly flawed Kate disappeared, replaced by black-haired, smooth skinned thinned lifted, perfectly symmetrical Korean.  Even her dress and accessories were enhanced to perfection.  What stared back at us in the end was a neutral-faced Koreanized Hanbok Kate.  Perfect for the Christmas photos back home.  It was really fun.

The cinema museum was actually more fun than I thought it would be, despite knowing nothing about Korean celebrity culture.  There were some really awesome old movie posters and my favorite room had hand and face imprints of famous stars--quite creepy.  Outside was the real treat.  Another beautiful ocean scenic view, little trails leading through cactus and trees to the black cliffs that cut into the waves.  On our way down to said cliffs, we got in the middle of an Asian mafia gunfight, met Forrest Gump on the bus bench, dodged velociraptors and a tyrannosaurus rex to prod at Jaws where he hung suspended on the docks.  The famous movie characters and sets--mostly western at this point-- are another of the many photo opportunities Korea likes to provide.  Korean culture and tourism goes nuts over their  movie industry, proudly marking any site of filming, and it was neat to stop at an out-of-the-way little museum devoted to such passions.

Getting on our scooters in the parking lot, we were stopped by a family of Koreans going into the museum (which was nice to see it getting more business since at first it seemed like we might have been the only ones). Their son went to middle school in Daegu and was proud enough to tell us so, which got us all talking about Gumi and English language.  Outside of school, whenever we meet up with Koreans that are so excited to practice their English with us, it is so refreshing.  It feels good to know that they want us here, that they are excited to see us (not in the point, say Hi and giggle at the waegooks walking by way).  As always, they are humble with their English ability, and we correct them saying their English is amazing and embarrassingly better than any infantile Korean syllables we could mispronounce for them.  Smiles, goodbyes.  Both parties left to enjoy their vacation and feel a bit better about themselves.

We scooted along the curves of the coastal road the rest of the way to Seongsan.  It was stunning.  The black lavarock reaching out into the sea, constant ripples and bubbles and spray and blue and...shit I'm running out of adjectives for this island halfway through the second blog--once again the universe reminding me: words are hard.  Just go visit the place and see for yourselves.

The best part of the coastal drive were the piles of wishes.  Rounded lava stones in so many sizes were stacked along the coast, a whole other horizon built from the hands of people's prayers.  Erosion by the people, for the people, of the people...

When the coast twisted upwards and brought Ilchulbong into our sights, I found myself again laughing out loud to keep from exploding.  The crater shimmers green, spikes out of the to stand guard over the town.  It isn't the biggest mountain or peak you've ever seen, it is just there in a very immense intense insistance that you appreciate all of its simple beauty.  Sunrise peak.  I would conquer it.  Twice.

After a bit of getting lost and then getting found, we arrived at our hotel to a wonderfully airy and spacious room with three walls of windows, with views of ocean, inlet, bay and Ilchulbong.  Wow.  The sun had hit that pre-evening low when everything outside is gold and the wood of our room turned to honey.  Honey.  Simple warm sweet.  That's what it felt like to be out of the wind, inside but outside, a hundred percent content.

That evening after Candice rolled in, all bedraggled in the dark, we all went caught a taxi to the "only restaurant in town" (which was bullshit, incidentally, but what the hotel deskman said).  The typical Korean "western" food of dunkass (pork cutlets that resemble too closely the chicken fried steaks of school lunches covered in mysterious brown sauce) and spaghetti.  It was a laughable meal, made much more laughable by Candice frolicking outside the window while our server bused the table.  I think we three are a much stranger lot than he was used to.  We walked back, since the taxi driver took us a whole 30 seconds ride, and made our way across the bridge past the giant locks to let the boats into the inlet.  We made some late night friends with a startled crane, a friendly white dog we dubbed foxy (quite the resemblance) and some other critters running around.  When we finally settled in for the night, girl talk into the wee hours, I set my alarm, armed myself with instant coffee (total last resort) and readied myself for predawn.

I left the ladies shortly after five and made my to the crater, which only took about ten minutes walking. It was still dark and the town glowed with all those orange yellow lights, the moon still fat and happy above.  The walk up the crater was easy enough with small lights to guide you but not impose on the view.  I booked it up to the top, panting my way up the final steps and lost every last bit of breath when I got a view of the crater.  In the predawn light I could see the craggy teeth edging the crater and the shadows the dipped inside of it.  Just beyond, nothing but sea.  When I looked to the west I could see the bay, the town, the docks of the harbor...all glowing and waiting.  I know I was projecting, but it felt like the whole island was holding its breath for what was coming.

There were stones and risers to sit on, and a small crowd formed, a little community created by our willingness to drag ourselves up a crater this early, to race the sun.  We were hardcore.  And as we sat there and waited, withstood the very chilly wind (which I stupidly wore shorts and a loose tee; only me, everyone else was bundled) we watched the sky shift from cool to warm, pinks cutting cracks in the navy, fire breaking through and staring us down.

When the first tiny speck of sun came behind the clouds, everyone cheered.  You had to.  This is the glory we wait for, and it never fails to amaze.  But here, over the crater that collected liquid golden light in its bowl, and the sea spread out all around us, the town with the moon still bright behind us--here was everything.  All the elements to start your day, a well balanced breakfast of fire, wind, water, air, earth.  ("by your powers combined..." that's right, it was captain planet).

And I went crazy trying to capture it all.  Foolishly.  There's no way a camera can ever snap all that up.  Instead, I just killed my battery.

  

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...