Bizarro Hoth Hot

I've been taking a lot of cold showers lately. It's hot. It's rainy. It's hot like a haywire humidor. It's hot like Bizarro Hoth. It's Frank Herbert humid. It's hot like Sting in a knife fight. Actually, it's none of those things, but something is driving me crazy. I have cabin fever, just replace "cabin," with "world's second largest metropolitan area." Catchy.

I fly out of Seoul at 13:15 on June 30th. After a 3-hour layover in some place called "JPN," I will fly back to Vancouver, arriving at 10:45 of the same day. Now I will make a joke about how the plane is so fast that I arrive in Canada before I left: "That's what I call making time! Ha!" Then I'll be back Canadaside, where bacon has a back and where my sick obsession with being well-liked will be among like minds.

The parents McLeod will be in Vancouver when I arrive, so it seems I'll be able to catch a ride back up with them--what luck! Much of my year has been like this, happily, and my optimistic perspective has perhaps begotten more positivity--just like what Rhonda Byrne says in The Secret, except with less ear-bleeding stupidity. We'll probably head back up to Prince George fairly directly. I'll probably be up there for 5 days or so, then Rock and I will be in 100 Mile for a bit, and on July 9th I'll begin the 12-month Secondary Teacher Education Program at UBC Okanagan--employment ho!

The four months have gone quite quickly. My replacement arrives 3 days before I leave, and she's moving into my apartment, so I'll be staying at the principal's house with her and her family. That should be neat, living with a Korean family for a while. If nothing else, having the boss invite you to stay with her family at the end of your contract is a fairly good sign that you've done a good job, unless they lock you in the basement and starve you to death.

The top photo is of Namdaemun Gate, which is a gate somewhere around Namdaemun. It was built in 1395, it is the oldest wooden structure in Seoul and it has been designated "National Treasure No.1". More importantly, as the lower photo shows, a virtual replica of it exists in World of Warcraft. Take that, offline world. Take that off, line world. Take that offline, world, and so on, soon.

Read more!

The Long and Winding--Hey! You can't sit there!

So I went to Gyeongbokgung palace, the place pictured in my last post. It was alright, but it was no Forbidden City. I mean, it didn't even have a Starbucks. It's hard to get interested in historical architecture after Beijing. It's like watching The View instead of reading The NYT.

A place I like more is Boramae Park. It's one of the largest parks in Seoul, and, conveniently, it's less than 10 minutes from my house. It has a rose garden, facilities for dozens of sports, a pond with a fountain system that sprays in patterns synchronized to classical music, a Buddhist temple, and even an old guy who talks to me. One of my favourite parts is the foot-massaging path. Basically, it's a long path that has a variety of sizes and shapes of stones embedded into it. Some are small and pointy; some are large and smooth; some are black and get hot in the sun, and so on. The effect of this is that walking on this path stimulates your feet in weird ways that you don't get by just walking around normally. It's like yoga for your feet. There is even a chart that explains how, apparently, different parts of your feet are connected to different parts of your body. It's quite surprisingly relaxing--and free!

Yesterday Matt and I were playing badminton on the secret courts on the hill. We had played a couple of games, and then this guy popped up and challenged us to a game of 2-on-1. He was about 50, a bit portly, wearing a black track suit, and he had on these weird leather shoes with buckles and 1-inch heels, not suitable for badminton. Now, Matt and I aren't Chinese or anything, but I like to think we're competent players, plus our footwear choice was impeccable. Nevertheless, he totally kicked our asses. He could have been wearing buckets for all it mattered (unlike me: all I ever do is run around). He just hit the birdie to the exact spot he wanted to and it whizzed about half an inch over the net every time. The teachers were schooled. Naturally, after a while one of the park janitors produced a racket and joined in the game, so then Matt and I played on opposite teams. Afterwards the guy wanted us to go drinking with him, but it was 2pm, so, uhh, that's just a bit crazy.

Badminton is a universal language, apparently. On other days we've played against high school guys and even a family: mom, dad, boy and girl. The teenage guys bought us Pocari Sweat (The Korean equivalent of Gatorade) for our efforts, and the family gave us giant rice cake snacks. Also, later they tracked me down while I was in a phonebooth and gave me a strawberry ice cream bar. (Maybe they thought I was poor, since I was playing with a racket that I bought from a box in front of 7-11 for $1.50, and I'm the only person in Korea without a cellphone.) It's nice when stuff like that happens. It restores my faith in the goodness of ice cream.

Read more!

A tiny conspiracy

I have a small request: please destroy the Canadian economy. Stupid inflated Canadian dollar. When I arrived in Korea the CDN to KRW ratio was 1:807. Now it is 1:870. That's translates to me making $193 less per month--effing b-crap! I thought this also had to do with the trade agreement that Korea signed with the US, but the KRW has improved against the USD, so, pfft. Actually, I'm as unbothered by this probable loss of $772 as any person of Scottish descent could be. I'll probably be back in Canada in a month, and my experience so far has born out my decision to come here.

On Sunday I'm going to visit the palace pictured above: Gyeongbokgung. I'm going with some random university students that I met at an English club/cafe/bar. I didn't really want to go there, but my coworker said it would be free (see above comment re. Scottishness). It was, but only for her--bah! Anyway, aside from finding palace exploring pals, the night was not a total bust because of an unusual exchange I had with one guy. He was Korean; he spoke English fairly well, and he was really big, like muscular. Anyway, I think he had had a bit too much soju because he was acting really silly when he came up to me. He had a plastic gun and he said: "This is an RG. That stands for real gun. I'm a real gangsta." At this point he started doing some elaborate and silly muscle flexing poses. Then he flashed some imitation gang signs and said: "I'm a Blood. I'm a Crip. Don't I look like a real gangsta?" Now, I know that according to the amicable collusion of the inebriated I was supposed to say yes. But I was sober, so I said: "No, no you don't." He was crestfallen. A 6'3 sad puppy. I laughed internally and didn't feel bad. This is the year of good luck and not feeling bad for no reason. Take that and party, Robbie Williams.

Read more!