Well, it's not so much funny, as just ruefully amusing, and sadly indicative of the organization level present in the schools here. So I may have (or may not have) mentioned that I'm doing extra English classes at the elementary school this year. Basic (1st-3rd) and Advanced (4th-6th); two classes each per week. I'd done some research to find a suitable textbook to use. Dan, the teacher who was here before me, helped me pick out a good one: English Time, I think it's called. Nothing too complicated, just some fun activities and a decent phonics section, since I'd be working with disparate age groups and needed something to (try to) keep them all involved in the lesson. I emailed my coteacher about it a week ago, and I figured we'd start probably on March 10... not the first week when everyone's getting settled in, but, y'know, soon. School starts on the 2nd, by the way. Anywho, I'm just trying to give you a gauge for the amount of time and thought and whatnot I'd put into this little side project, which, keep in mind, the school specifically asked me to do. Not an immense amount, but enough that I felt prepared to get started whenever they asked me to.
Well, I'm at school right now for the start of the term teachers' meeting. Which, of course, I can't understand. I did introduce myself, and meet the new teachers... all 4 of them. In an elementary school with 8 teachers. K-6 plus one English teacher. Yay for turnover! Ha... anyway, we went through the whole dog and pony show of the meeting, me sitting there and smiling like a simpleton, which I pretty much am, since I don't understand what's going on when people talk. And after the meeting, my coteacher comes up to me and asks me how I'd like to schedule the English classes. Not the extra ones that I'd been preparing for, mind you, but the regular school classes. And I said, "mhu-huh-what-now?" Turns out, I have to keep doing those 6 classes a week with the new native English teacher, all on Mondays now. Since I have, you know, the job I was hired to do the rest of the week. Did I want to do two 5th grade classes in a row, followed by two 6th grade classes in a row? "Come again?" Um, this, my friends, is not my department. My qualifications to be setting your class schedule are spotty at best, right? Whoo-ee... what a morning. I decided that I didn't want to teach the same class for an hour and a half straight... the way I figure it, even in college I'd get bored sitting in the same room doing the same shit for that long, and these kids don't have near the attention span that your average college student possesses... I mean, I think. Right? Hell, I have no idea what I'm talking about. So now I'm doing on Mondays: 5th, 6th, 3rd, 4th, lunch, 5th, 6th. And then Tue-Fri at the Global Center. At least this will break up my routine a little bit, and (hopefully) I won't get so bored doing the same thing 5 days a week. You know, cause 4 is so much better. It's a solid foundation. Rooms have 4 sides. Bad things happen in 3's, and the pentagram is for the devil. So this is really the best solution. Besides, the tetragrammaton has 4 letters, so that's gotta count for something, right?
Oh, but this isn't even the best part. I got all caught up in that story and forgot what incited me to sit down and post this in the first place. So, the extra classes: after discussing the regular class schedule, my coteacher says, "Oh, and by the way, I think you will not have to teach the extra classes this year."
And that's the end of the story. All that work and research I put into finding a decent textbook: useless. All my worry about what I was going to teach these kids, and how I'd make it interesting, and what I'd do for 2 classes a week for an entire effing school year: needless. So, the bad news is that I wasted a lot of time and effort and stress thinking about something that I'm now not doing. The good news is that I'm now not doing it. And I can devote more time to working out, studying my own foreign languages, etc. Which rocks, when I think about it. I just can't believe that it got to this point with me in the dark, and them having no real idea what they were going to do... BOO! But whatever; every cloud has a silver lining... and this one's more like platinum. Everything works out in the end, I guess. At least, if I ever in the future need a decent textbook to teach English to small Korean children, I have one in mind. =)
Oh, and in case you were wondering why I'm not teaching the extra classes, it's because they'd have to pay me to do it. And there's a military base nearby who will provide an English teacher for free. Yay capitalism...
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
A Korean school year
For those of you who don't know, which is probably everyone, except possibly for Emily, here's the breakdown of a Korean school schedule, as best I can figure it.
The school year starts at the beginning of March; this year, it's March 2nd. They have class from about 9-3 every day, with some recess time and a lunch period that we eat in the cafetorium. Most students then go to Hogwon after school. This is a private academy specializing in a certain area -- they have English hogwons, tae kwon do hogwons, piano howgons, math and science, and so forth and so on. Most students will therefore study from 9am till 7 or 8 in the evening most days. I think they also have half days of school on Saturdays, and some older (high school) kids have classes on Sundays too but I'm not really sure about all that, since it ain't my job to know.
Anyway, the first semester goes from March until the end of July. Then, about a month off, starting up again at the end of August. From August until Christmas is the 2nd semester. After Christmas, there's no class again until this weird little weeklong pre-graduation thing near the beginning of February. So, basically, we have January, most of February, and August off.
Now, this gets a little more complicated, because we also have to do English camps during the vacations. Some schools had their camps at the end of December; ours ran from January 5th-16th this year... two weeks, mornings only, of extra English fun. Whoo-ee. In addition to that, we had some teacher training thing for one week; we brought in teachers from area elementary schools and demonstrated what we do with our students at the Global Center, and showed them some things they could do to incorporate English into their own classrooms. I will have to do this again in the summer, although I'm not sure if it's the same amount of time, or what. I'm sure they'll give me plenty of notice, because that's how things work over here... Get it? Sarcasm is good... yeah.
So, I hope that helps.
My whole body hurts from working out. No pain, no gain, right? It's just funny when like, the muscles you worked out 4 days ago haven't stopped hurting, and then you compound the new muscles hurting... so it hurts to do everything. Stretch my legs out? Yup, that hurts. Bend my knees? Oh yeah... Pick something up off the ground? You betcha. Open the door? Close the door? Stir a pot of pasta? Sit up? Lie down? Turn my head to the left? Anyway, you get the picture. At least I can say it's that good kind of pain, that comes from having done something. As opposed to say, I dunno, bedsores.
The school year starts at the beginning of March; this year, it's March 2nd. They have class from about 9-3 every day, with some recess time and a lunch period that we eat in the cafetorium. Most students then go to Hogwon after school. This is a private academy specializing in a certain area -- they have English hogwons, tae kwon do hogwons, piano howgons, math and science, and so forth and so on. Most students will therefore study from 9am till 7 or 8 in the evening most days. I think they also have half days of school on Saturdays, and some older (high school) kids have classes on Sundays too but I'm not really sure about all that, since it ain't my job to know.
Anyway, the first semester goes from March until the end of July. Then, about a month off, starting up again at the end of August. From August until Christmas is the 2nd semester. After Christmas, there's no class again until this weird little weeklong pre-graduation thing near the beginning of February. So, basically, we have January, most of February, and August off.
Now, this gets a little more complicated, because we also have to do English camps during the vacations. Some schools had their camps at the end of December; ours ran from January 5th-16th this year... two weeks, mornings only, of extra English fun. Whoo-ee. In addition to that, we had some teacher training thing for one week; we brought in teachers from area elementary schools and demonstrated what we do with our students at the Global Center, and showed them some things they could do to incorporate English into their own classrooms. I will have to do this again in the summer, although I'm not sure if it's the same amount of time, or what. I'm sure they'll give me plenty of notice, because that's how things work over here... Get it? Sarcasm is good... yeah.
So, I hope that helps.
My whole body hurts from working out. No pain, no gain, right? It's just funny when like, the muscles you worked out 4 days ago haven't stopped hurting, and then you compound the new muscles hurting... so it hurts to do everything. Stretch my legs out? Yup, that hurts. Bend my knees? Oh yeah... Pick something up off the ground? You betcha. Open the door? Close the door? Stir a pot of pasta? Sit up? Lie down? Turn my head to the left? Anyway, you get the picture. At least I can say it's that good kind of pain, that comes from having done something. As opposed to say, I dunno, bedsores.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Productivity?
From me? Whoda thunkit, right? Ha... So, yeah. I'm having a productive Tuesday, so far. Let's see, I did sleep in, a bit, but I'm on vacation. It's ok. Today, I went to the gym and had a really nice workout... I dialed back a bit on the weight so I could lift for more than 20-25 minutes. Good choice, on my part. I made it through all the exercises I wanted to do, except this lower back one that I had to short a set, and my last set of bicep curls didn't really get, y'know, finished. But I tried, and I feel pretty good. It's warmer here today than it's been since, I mean, winter started. I also got my haircut, washed my dishes, cleaned out my fridge, bagged and prepared all the trash for recycling, and now I'm onto laundry. Whoo-ee! Oh, also, I got some Korean books from Jill, so I've started studying Korean, for real now. Like, grammar and stuff. So yeah, there's still a chance that I'll actually be able to converse in Korean by the time I get out of here, and it's no longer necessary! Go me...
All in all, it's been a good day so far! Tonight I got no plans... I'll probably just chill at the house, read, and rest up so I can hit the gym again tomorrow. :)
Oh, and it turns out it was a good thing that I didn't plan an extra vacation during this "time off," because my coteacher called me around 12:30 today and informed me that I have to work on Thursday! Like... really? Just like that, huh? So when you told me a while back that I'd have 2 weeks off, and then pointed to March 2nd on the calendar and said this is when you'll have to work again, you were just kiddin, huh? Guessing? Approximating? Guesstimating? Anyway, this is a fairly common meme here in Korean, and I'm not angry about it. Amused, yeah... bemused even. But whateva... no harm, no foul. I just have to work, is all... I guess I can handle that.
So, I've been trying to follow the American news as much as possible, and from what I can tell, things are bad, mmkay? But the Korean economy must be in much worse shape than ours, because the exchange rate has gotten ridiculously bad in the past week. Well, good if you want to come here and spend dollars, but bad for those of us cursed with the Korean currency. Not sure why, but I really hope this turns around soon... and especially before I have to come home with all this Korean money.
I really am going to finish the Scuba diving tale, I promise. Keep looking for it. One day, when you're ready, it will reveal itself to you.
I think I'm gonna check out the DMZ tour this weekend (thanks for reminding me, Emily!). I'm not really sure what all that entails, but I think we get to see some old military installations, walk around a bit, and from what I hear, I may even get to set foot in North Korea! :) Yeah, I know, bad idea, right? Well, that's probably true, but word is that you enter this building that straddles the border, and inside the building you can run over really quickly, wave, get your picture taken, and then jump back before they have a chance to shoot you. Or something like that, but probably not quite as death-defyingly awesome. I'll be sure to let ya'll know.
Gotta go be more productive! Peace.
All in all, it's been a good day so far! Tonight I got no plans... I'll probably just chill at the house, read, and rest up so I can hit the gym again tomorrow. :)
Oh, and it turns out it was a good thing that I didn't plan an extra vacation during this "time off," because my coteacher called me around 12:30 today and informed me that I have to work on Thursday! Like... really? Just like that, huh? So when you told me a while back that I'd have 2 weeks off, and then pointed to March 2nd on the calendar and said this is when you'll have to work again, you were just kiddin, huh? Guessing? Approximating? Guesstimating? Anyway, this is a fairly common meme here in Korean, and I'm not angry about it. Amused, yeah... bemused even. But whateva... no harm, no foul. I just have to work, is all... I guess I can handle that.
So, I've been trying to follow the American news as much as possible, and from what I can tell, things are bad, mmkay? But the Korean economy must be in much worse shape than ours, because the exchange rate has gotten ridiculously bad in the past week. Well, good if you want to come here and spend dollars, but bad for those of us cursed with the Korean currency. Not sure why, but I really hope this turns around soon... and especially before I have to come home with all this Korean money.
I really am going to finish the Scuba diving tale, I promise. Keep looking for it. One day, when you're ready, it will reveal itself to you.
I think I'm gonna check out the DMZ tour this weekend (thanks for reminding me, Emily!). I'm not really sure what all that entails, but I think we get to see some old military installations, walk around a bit, and from what I hear, I may even get to set foot in North Korea! :) Yeah, I know, bad idea, right? Well, that's probably true, but word is that you enter this building that straddles the border, and inside the building you can run over really quickly, wave, get your picture taken, and then jump back before they have a chance to shoot you. Or something like that, but probably not quite as death-defyingly awesome. I'll be sure to let ya'll know.
Gotta go be more productive! Peace.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Sorry about the mess in here...
It's been a while since my last post, but there has been literally nothing going on. I while away my hours and days as best I can. Of course, I have this immense luxury due to the fact that the school system here isn't big on scheduling things up front, or if they are, then they're certainly not big on telling lil ole me about it. I had an extra two week vacation after approximately 4 hours of teaching spread out over 5 school days from Feb 4-11... but I didn't know that I had all this time off until like, 11am on the 11th. So yeah, not much time to plan anything. Plus I've got other obligations in the evenings, so this all adds up to a lot of time of time spent sitting around my apartment, staring at walls, watching paint dry, watching grass grow. Slowly, because it's... you know, winter.
I've cut the language learning down to 5. Korean, German, French, Italian, Portuguese. I figured the Spanish could wait, seein as how I sort of already speak it. And the others, the Russian/Chinese/Japanese/Arabic... well, I was getting all confused. It's not really a good idea to try to learn 5 alphabets at once, I've decided. I have enough trouble with the umlauts and accents and funny-sounding letters in the European languages...
It's cold here. It snowed a few days ago, after a wintry mix (I always liked that weather terminology) fell for a while during my walk home Thursday night. It was this stinging biting rain that turned to little flakes of ice falling from the sky. Not pleasant.
I joined a gym -- it's been a long time since I worked out, as my pecs and triceps can attest today. I was trying to open the suddenly-heavy sliding door that leads to my terrace/washing machine yesterday... ha. With an armload of clothes leaving only my right hand free, and the need to pull the door from right to left, I almost gave up. I struggled with that door for at least 20 seconds... it never occurred to me to drop the armload of clothes. I was going to defeat that door in a fair fight. Well, it turns out I needn't have scrupled to fight clean; the door had its own dirty tricks. My cheeks burned in shame and humiliation as the door taunted me mercilessly, saying things about my mother it would be heinous to repeat in polite company. Door: 1. Sean: 0. After I finished crying, though, I realized I had forgotten to unlock the damn thing. You don't have to be the strongest to win the fight, just the smartest. My long and arduous journey to the washer was complete. Ha...
By a random confluence of events, I ended up staying at my friend Jill's place near Icheon last night. She's out of town, so she said I could crash here since I was planning a night out in Icheon. That ended up not working out as well as I'd hoped, but at least it was a quick trip to her place afterwards. So this morning, thanks to her generosity, I've had a breakfast fit for kings! Or at least, fit for IHOP. So far, in the hour and a half I've been up, I've had coffee, gone to the store for milk and eggs, and cooked banana pancakes (with syrup -- yum!), fried eggs and sausage, and then eaten like a fat American champion! And God saw that it was good.
And that's really about it. Au revoir! Auf Wiedersehen! Arrivederci! Tchao! Annyong-hi gaseyo!
I've cut the language learning down to 5. Korean, German, French, Italian, Portuguese. I figured the Spanish could wait, seein as how I sort of already speak it. And the others, the Russian/Chinese/Japanese/Arabic... well, I was getting all confused. It's not really a good idea to try to learn 5 alphabets at once, I've decided. I have enough trouble with the umlauts and accents and funny-sounding letters in the European languages...
It's cold here. It snowed a few days ago, after a wintry mix (I always liked that weather terminology) fell for a while during my walk home Thursday night. It was this stinging biting rain that turned to little flakes of ice falling from the sky. Not pleasant.
I joined a gym -- it's been a long time since I worked out, as my pecs and triceps can attest today. I was trying to open the suddenly-heavy sliding door that leads to my terrace/washing machine yesterday... ha. With an armload of clothes leaving only my right hand free, and the need to pull the door from right to left, I almost gave up. I struggled with that door for at least 20 seconds... it never occurred to me to drop the armload of clothes. I was going to defeat that door in a fair fight. Well, it turns out I needn't have scrupled to fight clean; the door had its own dirty tricks. My cheeks burned in shame and humiliation as the door taunted me mercilessly, saying things about my mother it would be heinous to repeat in polite company. Door: 1. Sean: 0. After I finished crying, though, I realized I had forgotten to unlock the damn thing. You don't have to be the strongest to win the fight, just the smartest. My long and arduous journey to the washer was complete. Ha...
By a random confluence of events, I ended up staying at my friend Jill's place near Icheon last night. She's out of town, so she said I could crash here since I was planning a night out in Icheon. That ended up not working out as well as I'd hoped, but at least it was a quick trip to her place afterwards. So this morning, thanks to her generosity, I've had a breakfast fit for kings! Or at least, fit for IHOP. So far, in the hour and a half I've been up, I've had coffee, gone to the store for milk and eggs, and cooked banana pancakes (with syrup -- yum!), fried eggs and sausage, and then eaten like a fat American champion! And God saw that it was good.
And that's really about it. Au revoir! Auf Wiedersehen! Arrivederci! Tchao! Annyong-hi gaseyo!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Some Totally Random Thoughts
I get to go to my 6th graders' graduation ceremony on Wednesday. I'm supposed to wear a suit; regardless, it should be fun! I'll try to take some pictures for you guys.
Tiger Woods' wife Elin gave birth to a son today -- anyone wanna lay odds on this kid's chances to win the Masters within the next 30 years? I mean, hell, I'd take 10-1 on his daughter winning it...
I'm really nervous about this teaching gig I got starting in March. I will have two extra classes (Basic: 1st-3rd, and Advanced: 4th-6th) twice a week for the entire school year... anyone out there believe I'm qualified for this? Because if you do, I'd like to hear about it! For one thing the difference in skills and classroom behavior, not to mention activities that might appeal to these kids, is huge between 4th and 6th grades. And 1st to 3rd grade, come on. These first graders won't know anything -- I'll have to start with the alphabet! That's gonna be really exciting for my 3rd graders who've had a full school year of English already plus extra classes! I feel like I'm being set up to fail, and I'm not really sure what to do about it. Any suggestions?
A lot of my friends are either pregnant or have just had a kid... when will I find my baby factory? Er... I mean, you know, beloved bride?
No one's commented on this blog in quite a while. Except Emily -- thanks, honey! That's not really why I'm doing this, I guess, but it sure was nice to know that people were interested in what I had to say... Or, at least cared enough about me to give the appearance of interest! I'm not picky about which of those is true, frankly, but I'm feeling a little low on the self-confidence meter. So, ya know, step it up, bitches!
OK -- that's all for now. I'm going to try to get back to posting as regularly as possible, so keep on clicking!
Tiger Woods' wife Elin gave birth to a son today -- anyone wanna lay odds on this kid's chances to win the Masters within the next 30 years? I mean, hell, I'd take 10-1 on his daughter winning it...
I'm really nervous about this teaching gig I got starting in March. I will have two extra classes (Basic: 1st-3rd, and Advanced: 4th-6th) twice a week for the entire school year... anyone out there believe I'm qualified for this? Because if you do, I'd like to hear about it! For one thing the difference in skills and classroom behavior, not to mention activities that might appeal to these kids, is huge between 4th and 6th grades. And 1st to 3rd grade, come on. These first graders won't know anything -- I'll have to start with the alphabet! That's gonna be really exciting for my 3rd graders who've had a full school year of English already plus extra classes! I feel like I'm being set up to fail, and I'm not really sure what to do about it. Any suggestions?
A lot of my friends are either pregnant or have just had a kid... when will I find my baby factory? Er... I mean, you know, beloved bride?
No one's commented on this blog in quite a while. Except Emily -- thanks, honey! That's not really why I'm doing this, I guess, but it sure was nice to know that people were interested in what I had to say... Or, at least cared enough about me to give the appearance of interest! I'm not picky about which of those is true, frankly, but I'm feeling a little low on the self-confidence meter. So, ya know, step it up, bitches!
OK -- that's all for now. I'm going to try to get back to posting as regularly as possible, so keep on clicking!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
My first SCUBA dive!
Some observations...
The first breath is, to beat a dead cliche, something you'll never forget. It's like equal parts anticipation, fear, nerves, excitement, wonder... with a little detached amusement at the rush of other feelings coursing through your body. I'd already tested the equipment, repeatedly, at the dive shop as part of the assembly ritual I'd just completed, but.... That first breath through the hoses, that metallic, almost sweet flavor, the cold, condensed quality, even the texture of the air. It's just so freaking cool to be breathing. Underwater. Even just thinking back on it now I'm getting chills.
The waves on the beach make things much more difficult than I'd expected. I learned later that when you're out in open water, you're really pretty stable on the surface, and much more so when you drop even a couple meters. But close to the shore, it's difficult to stay close to the instructor, the movements of the water shove your body around and make completing our required skills an exercise in frustration. We have to practice removing our weight belts and putting them back on. Now, you don't think about it much, but when you're floating in the water with just your head above, your center of gravity can be changed quite easily. Taking 5kg of weights and holding them away from your body, even just a few inches, throws you completely sideways and threatens to drag your head underwater. Just trying to hold onto the weights is hard, but trying to maneuver a belt of them around your waist while staying upright in the water is seriously complicated the first time. Then we have to leave the weight belts on while taking off our BCD's, the jackets we wear that fill with air and allow us to control our buoyance: Buoyancy Control Devices. This is actually a little easier, because once you get it off you can use it like a little life preserver and hold onto it -- it still floats, obviously. Then you flip it underneath your butt, and sit on it while getting the shoulder straps in place. Finally, you just kinda slide off it, letting it ride up your arms and settle in place on your back. No worries. =)
Finally, after proving ourselves (relatively) proficient at these tasks, which are necessary in case you become tangled or caught under the water and need to be able to remove your equipment to get free... after doing that, we got to make our first (small) descent to the shallow sandy bottom. Now, years of experience teaches you that if you want to go down into the water, you flip over, go head first and swim downwards, right? Well, it turns out that's the suckers way.... In scuba, you do just the opposite; you descend completely upright, and just relax. No swimming necessary. Instead, you deflate your BCD and slowly exhale; as the volume of air in your BCD and your lungs decreases, you become less buoyant and you start to descend. It's this sort of creepy, smooth feeling as you slowly feel the water slide over your face, your ears, and finally close over the top of your head. My first reaction was to begin breathing, immediately, quickly, almost panicky I guess. This is ... counter-productive. When you do that, your lungs fill rapidly and you just rise back to the surface... thanks for playing! please try again! So you have to make a conscious effort to take normal breaths and exhale completely, always getting rid of all the air in your lungs so that when you next inhale, you get fresh, oxygen-rich air. This is more efficient for your body and greatly reduces the amount of air you'll go through when you dive. Needless to say, this takes constant self-reminding, not to mention some practice.
When you're descending into water, as I'm sure you've all noticed, the deeper you go the more pressure you feel in your ears. This can get really painful quickly, and cause serious damage if you don't listen to your body. I was worried about this at first, because I've always had trouble even going to the bottom of the deep end of the pool; flying is often a problem for me. When you dive, you deal with the pressure changes by adding more air to your nasal/ear passages to "equalize" the external and internal pressures. Basically, you pinch your nose, close your mouth, and blow. You're supposed to do this every meter as you go down and start more or less immediately, before you feel any discomfort. It's just hard to remember to start immediately when you've got so much other shit that's pressing on your mind. So, after some starts and stops and a little discomfort, but nothing too serious, we eventually made it down to the bottom, I think about 4-5 meters deep.
The first thing I noticed was that the force of the water moving around down here was much less than the surface, but still noticeable and still making it difficult to remain in one place. At least, for Greg and me it was; Walter, our instructor, seemed to have no problem just kneeling on the bottom all calmly and shit. It's sort of like meditation, in that internal stillness has to come first and then the body sort of finds its own motionlessness. The more you move, the more you change your center of gravity and the more likely you are to have to move the other way to counter the first movement. What you need to do, I think, is find a center and trust that you'll stay there without extraneous or unnecessary small corrections. Once you believe that, and tell your body to stop doing things of its own accord, it becomes much easier to manage. This is true, not just when you're dealing with surf and currents, I found out later; even in the most peaceful still waters I'd still get urges to use my arms to move or turn, when in a more or less weightless environment any slight extra motion gets magnified and leads to a lot more motion trying to correct and overcorrect and recenter yourself. It's a real balancing act to become still in the water, but a helluva lot of fun to practice.
The second thing I noticed was that even though this was our skills training, and we were on a public beach, and not far from the shore, and yada yada yada, there were tons of amazingly beautiful tropical fish swimming all around us, over us, between our legs, everywhere! Most of them were pretty small, with vivid iridescent stripes running down their backs and sides; my favorites were bigger (but still only 6-8 inches long) and bright lime green. They reminded me of those hypercolor shirts we used to wear back in like 5th grade; I had one in lime green the exact color of these fish. Anyway, it was really beautiful down there, almost mesmerizing. It was kind of a shame we were practicing those required skills the whole time. But, as I found out the next day, it was nothing compared with the sheer knock-you-on-your-ass beauty just a few meters below the surface at the reefs around the other islands.
Then we had to do more skills -- the weight belt again, which you drape over your knee to keep you from floating away; the BCD again, which you have to hold on tight to keep it from floating away; letting your mask fill up with water and clearing it by tilting your head back and blowing through your nose. Taking your mask off and swimming around to simulate getting it knocked off underwater, then putting it back on and clearing it again. Walter said I didn't have to open my eyes underwater, because of the contacts, but he also said they wouldn't go anywhere if I did; only moving water actually causes contacts to come off underwater. So, I figured what the hell? If I actually did lose my mask underwater, I'd have to open my eyes to see it and put it back on, right? So, I gave it a whirl, and no problems! I mean, the salt water stung like the dickens the first time, but you get used to it pretty quickly. Then we practiced "low on air" and "out of air" scenarios, where you find your buddy, communicate via hand signals, and then grab his secondary air source to breathe -- easy stuff, as long as you don't panic and remain calm. We also had to practice a true out of air situation; Walter shut off our air one at a time, and made us breathe until the pressure went all the way down to zero, then look at him and make the proper hand signals while blowing a small stready stream of bubbles (you never hold your breath while scuba diving -- this is very important!) before he turned it back on. Again, no panic, no problems. We did "fin pivots." This is a fun little exercise where you lay flat, face downward, on the bottom, spread your legs wide to maintain stability, and then use your breathing to move your body up and down, pivoting on the tips of your fins. Inhale, your head begins to rise while your feet stay put, thanks to your lungs being located where they are; exhale, you begin to sink back to the bottom. It takes some practice to not hit your face on the bottom... you have to finish breathing out and begin breathing in quite a bit before you get to that point. I enjoyed this one... I was cracking myself up, thinking I was in control until I kept exhaling too long and landed (gently, of course) on the sand. Good times... then we practiced the controlled emergency assent, where you take a big breath and swim up from 6 meters, slowly, while making an "ahhhh" sound to allow the ever-expanding air to escape from your lungs and ears. This prevents, you know, air expansion injuries, ruptures and shit. Very important. It should take, I guess, about 30 seconds if you do it right, which is a long time to be looking up at the light through the water and saying "ahhh..." Finally, we did some "tired diver" tows and then packed up and headed back to the shop. Where, after lugging all that heavy (now soaking wet) stuff through town, I was indeed a tired diver. I showered, ate some curry :) and laid down to rest. But it was certainly an exciting, exhilarating, exhausting experience! Thanks for sharing it with me.
The first breath is, to beat a dead cliche, something you'll never forget. It's like equal parts anticipation, fear, nerves, excitement, wonder... with a little detached amusement at the rush of other feelings coursing through your body. I'd already tested the equipment, repeatedly, at the dive shop as part of the assembly ritual I'd just completed, but.... That first breath through the hoses, that metallic, almost sweet flavor, the cold, condensed quality, even the texture of the air. It's just so freaking cool to be breathing. Underwater. Even just thinking back on it now I'm getting chills.
The waves on the beach make things much more difficult than I'd expected. I learned later that when you're out in open water, you're really pretty stable on the surface, and much more so when you drop even a couple meters. But close to the shore, it's difficult to stay close to the instructor, the movements of the water shove your body around and make completing our required skills an exercise in frustration. We have to practice removing our weight belts and putting them back on. Now, you don't think about it much, but when you're floating in the water with just your head above, your center of gravity can be changed quite easily. Taking 5kg of weights and holding them away from your body, even just a few inches, throws you completely sideways and threatens to drag your head underwater. Just trying to hold onto the weights is hard, but trying to maneuver a belt of them around your waist while staying upright in the water is seriously complicated the first time. Then we have to leave the weight belts on while taking off our BCD's, the jackets we wear that fill with air and allow us to control our buoyance: Buoyancy Control Devices. This is actually a little easier, because once you get it off you can use it like a little life preserver and hold onto it -- it still floats, obviously. Then you flip it underneath your butt, and sit on it while getting the shoulder straps in place. Finally, you just kinda slide off it, letting it ride up your arms and settle in place on your back. No worries. =)
Finally, after proving ourselves (relatively) proficient at these tasks, which are necessary in case you become tangled or caught under the water and need to be able to remove your equipment to get free... after doing that, we got to make our first (small) descent to the shallow sandy bottom. Now, years of experience teaches you that if you want to go down into the water, you flip over, go head first and swim downwards, right? Well, it turns out that's the suckers way.... In scuba, you do just the opposite; you descend completely upright, and just relax. No swimming necessary. Instead, you deflate your BCD and slowly exhale; as the volume of air in your BCD and your lungs decreases, you become less buoyant and you start to descend. It's this sort of creepy, smooth feeling as you slowly feel the water slide over your face, your ears, and finally close over the top of your head. My first reaction was to begin breathing, immediately, quickly, almost panicky I guess. This is ... counter-productive. When you do that, your lungs fill rapidly and you just rise back to the surface... thanks for playing! please try again! So you have to make a conscious effort to take normal breaths and exhale completely, always getting rid of all the air in your lungs so that when you next inhale, you get fresh, oxygen-rich air. This is more efficient for your body and greatly reduces the amount of air you'll go through when you dive. Needless to say, this takes constant self-reminding, not to mention some practice.
When you're descending into water, as I'm sure you've all noticed, the deeper you go the more pressure you feel in your ears. This can get really painful quickly, and cause serious damage if you don't listen to your body. I was worried about this at first, because I've always had trouble even going to the bottom of the deep end of the pool; flying is often a problem for me. When you dive, you deal with the pressure changes by adding more air to your nasal/ear passages to "equalize" the external and internal pressures. Basically, you pinch your nose, close your mouth, and blow. You're supposed to do this every meter as you go down and start more or less immediately, before you feel any discomfort. It's just hard to remember to start immediately when you've got so much other shit that's pressing on your mind. So, after some starts and stops and a little discomfort, but nothing too serious, we eventually made it down to the bottom, I think about 4-5 meters deep.
The first thing I noticed was that the force of the water moving around down here was much less than the surface, but still noticeable and still making it difficult to remain in one place. At least, for Greg and me it was; Walter, our instructor, seemed to have no problem just kneeling on the bottom all calmly and shit. It's sort of like meditation, in that internal stillness has to come first and then the body sort of finds its own motionlessness. The more you move, the more you change your center of gravity and the more likely you are to have to move the other way to counter the first movement. What you need to do, I think, is find a center and trust that you'll stay there without extraneous or unnecessary small corrections. Once you believe that, and tell your body to stop doing things of its own accord, it becomes much easier to manage. This is true, not just when you're dealing with surf and currents, I found out later; even in the most peaceful still waters I'd still get urges to use my arms to move or turn, when in a more or less weightless environment any slight extra motion gets magnified and leads to a lot more motion trying to correct and overcorrect and recenter yourself. It's a real balancing act to become still in the water, but a helluva lot of fun to practice.
The second thing I noticed was that even though this was our skills training, and we were on a public beach, and not far from the shore, and yada yada yada, there were tons of amazingly beautiful tropical fish swimming all around us, over us, between our legs, everywhere! Most of them were pretty small, with vivid iridescent stripes running down their backs and sides; my favorites were bigger (but still only 6-8 inches long) and bright lime green. They reminded me of those hypercolor shirts we used to wear back in like 5th grade; I had one in lime green the exact color of these fish. Anyway, it was really beautiful down there, almost mesmerizing. It was kind of a shame we were practicing those required skills the whole time. But, as I found out the next day, it was nothing compared with the sheer knock-you-on-your-ass beauty just a few meters below the surface at the reefs around the other islands.
Then we had to do more skills -- the weight belt again, which you drape over your knee to keep you from floating away; the BCD again, which you have to hold on tight to keep it from floating away; letting your mask fill up with water and clearing it by tilting your head back and blowing through your nose. Taking your mask off and swimming around to simulate getting it knocked off underwater, then putting it back on and clearing it again. Walter said I didn't have to open my eyes underwater, because of the contacts, but he also said they wouldn't go anywhere if I did; only moving water actually causes contacts to come off underwater. So, I figured what the hell? If I actually did lose my mask underwater, I'd have to open my eyes to see it and put it back on, right? So, I gave it a whirl, and no problems! I mean, the salt water stung like the dickens the first time, but you get used to it pretty quickly. Then we practiced "low on air" and "out of air" scenarios, where you find your buddy, communicate via hand signals, and then grab his secondary air source to breathe -- easy stuff, as long as you don't panic and remain calm. We also had to practice a true out of air situation; Walter shut off our air one at a time, and made us breathe until the pressure went all the way down to zero, then look at him and make the proper hand signals while blowing a small stready stream of bubbles (you never hold your breath while scuba diving -- this is very important!) before he turned it back on. Again, no panic, no problems. We did "fin pivots." This is a fun little exercise where you lay flat, face downward, on the bottom, spread your legs wide to maintain stability, and then use your breathing to move your body up and down, pivoting on the tips of your fins. Inhale, your head begins to rise while your feet stay put, thanks to your lungs being located where they are; exhale, you begin to sink back to the bottom. It takes some practice to not hit your face on the bottom... you have to finish breathing out and begin breathing in quite a bit before you get to that point. I enjoyed this one... I was cracking myself up, thinking I was in control until I kept exhaling too long and landed (gently, of course) on the sand. Good times... then we practiced the controlled emergency assent, where you take a big breath and swim up from 6 meters, slowly, while making an "ahhhh" sound to allow the ever-expanding air to escape from your lungs and ears. This prevents, you know, air expansion injuries, ruptures and shit. Very important. It should take, I guess, about 30 seconds if you do it right, which is a long time to be looking up at the light through the water and saying "ahhh..." Finally, we did some "tired diver" tows and then packed up and headed back to the shop. Where, after lugging all that heavy (now soaking wet) stuff through town, I was indeed a tired diver. I showered, ate some curry :) and laid down to rest. But it was certainly an exciting, exhilarating, exhausting experience! Thanks for sharing it with me.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Linkies!
I just realized I had forgotten to link to pictures! I mean, you're all smart people, so you probably found them anyway, but just in case, here you go!
For the day trek (elephants!), go here.
For random Chiang Mai pictures, click me.
To see my guesthouse, go to this one.
To get punched in the kidney by some truly awful pix from the fights, try this.
For a few shots of the place I stayed in Phuket, go here.
And for a sample of the island living, check this out.
There we go... I think we're caught up now. Enjoy!
For the day trek (elephants!), go here.
For random Chiang Mai pictures, click me.
To see my guesthouse, go to this one.
To get punched in the kidney by some truly awful pix from the fights, try this.
For a few shots of the place I stayed in Phuket, go here.
And for a sample of the island living, check this out.
There we go... I think we're caught up now. Enjoy!
Thailand -- Ko Phi Phi
I've been feeling generally anti-writing lately. It's been sort of a struggle to keep up with this, hence the more sporadic posting, but it's actually kind of important to me to keep writing, so here we go. Also, I can smell my dinner cooking and it's driving me nuts -- I'm frickin starving... so I'm trying to distract myself and quell the hungry noises emanating from my tummy. Round 4. Ding.
I got sunburnt as hell on the ferry ride over to Ko Phi Phi! I guess it was pretty dumb to sit on the top deck, you know, in the sun... with a sleeveless shirt on and no sunblock. I didn't think it would be that bad... I had my towel draped over me and I wasn't really feeling too much sun, so I made the asinine assumption that it would all be ok. I guess what I forgot is that we're on the water, not to mention about 5 degrees north of the Equator... (actually, I just checked -- it's 7, not 5).
Alright... dinner's over, dishes are washed, and I'm wearing underwear. That's a pretty successful night, in my book. Now, further up and further in...
So the sunburn was pretty bad, but I've had worse... the first day I went directly to Moskito, the dive shop where I was staying, to check in and dump my bag. I took a quick walk around Phi Phi Town, which doesn't take long at all... this is a place with maybe 20 streets and no motorized vehicles of any kind, which totally adds to that whole "tropical paradise" feeling. The only thing you have to watch out for is the handcarts and bicycles that the locals use all over the place. You usually get some kind of warning, in most cases, it's a handy verbal one: "Beep beep beep beep!" That means get the hell out the way or I'll run your white ass down in Thai. No, seriously. I looked it up. It was bloody hot though, so after getting the lay of the land and seeing a couple beaches, I headed back to the dive shop for a little siesta time. It turns out that most of the divers and employees spend all their non-diving time hanging out at the dive shop and talking about diving, so I ended up hanging out with a group of Americans who'd been there for a few weeks and getting some pointers as to local hotspots. There aren't many, really... I mean, it's a small place. I had some dinner at Lemongrass, this nice little restaurant across the street from the shop. And by "across the street," I actually mean about 8 feet away, and local etiquette seems to dictate that you don't really wear shoes for such meager crossings. So, barefoot and well-fed on green curry chicken, I walked down to the little store and picked up some beer and then sat and chatted with the divers for a while. They invited me to join them to watch the video of their dive, so I went along, curious to see what I'd gotten myself into. The video was amazing! Yas, this Japanese chick, has some awesome equipment, not to mention a whole host of editing skillz... they had sharks, a seahorse, and 3 ghost pipe fish, which meant nothing to me apart from looking really cool, but the divers were in ecstacies watching... apparently they're pretty rare and Yas had gotten some exceptional shots. Next, it was off to Carlito's beach bar, for awesome cocktails (I'm just guessing really, but I think rum, coconut milk, chile, lemongrass and ... some sort of juice. I mean, wow...) All courtesy of Rob, who'd just had a nice payday and insisted on hooking me up! Thanks buddy! We drank, watched the firedancers for a while, chatted up the waitress, a hot little Swedish girl! Yowza... :) There are lots and lots of Swedes on Phi Phi -- it's a little strange, it's like their own little tropical playground. I mean, they're all nice folks, so no worries, just a bit odd. Then it was shots of some Italian liquor with the owner (Carlito? Perhaps....) and then off to Tiger Bar. More beers, people coming and going, dancing and drinking, laughing and crying... well, not so much, but you know. Finally headed out about 3, I think. After all, I had diving school at 9 the next morning -- I needed to be fresh! =)
Morning comes, I shower up and it's off to work I go! Well, not so much work, but studying, anyway. Reading a book, watching some DVD's and taking quizzes. But before I go on, a note about the shower situation in Thailand. They don't do the whole "heated" water thing there. I mean, it's not a big deal; it's really warm there, and the water is by no means uncomfortable. It's just strange to realize how much you take for granted sometimes. I didn't have a hot shower for 2 weeks... but I gotta say, there's something invigorating about that cool shower in the morning, and refreshing after a day spent in the sun and diving in the ocean. It's actually quite nice. OK, moving on. After a morning of book learning and a lunch of pad thai, we started the practical stuff in the afternoon. Walter, my dive instructor, showed us all the gear, how to put it together, how to test it all and make sure it's working, and how to take it apart. Then it was our turn. "Our," in this case, is Greg and I. Greg's an insurance broker from Brussels, and travelling with his adorable Belgian girlfriend, Emilie. She was supposed to be diving with him, but she got scared and bailed... I tihnk he was a little bitter at having to do this whole class with me instead of his girl, but who could blame him? Poor guy...
So, we got everything prepared. Not without a little difficulty -- there are several steps which after you've done it wrong and see why you have to do things in a certain order, seem like common sense. At first though, it's all a bit trial and error. Then we took everything apart. Then put it together again. And took it apart again. Then put it together again, and so on... When it was finally starting to feel fairly natural, Walter stopped us, told us to leave everything on, we were going to the beach! Time to actually dive in (or in this case, walk in) and, you know, breathe underwater! I was really excited, but anxious, nervous, and jittery would also be good adjectives to use here.
So, geared up and ready to bounce, we grabbed our masks and fins and strolled to the beach. Let me just say that a canister filled with 200 bars of compressed air, along with a BCD (buoyance control device) and wetsuit is really quite heavy, and not at all pleasant to go walking through the streets in, dodging carts and tourists and bicycles and shit along the way. But we made it, trudged down through the sand and headed out into the water. And then everything went wrong! But I'll save that for next time... a little suspense never hurt nobody.
Well, sorry, but I just can't do it. I don't want you all worrying yourselves into a frenzy, so I'll admit that I lied. Nothing went wrong. At least, nothing, you know, life-threatening... Cue the scary music! Cue it!
I got sunburnt as hell on the ferry ride over to Ko Phi Phi! I guess it was pretty dumb to sit on the top deck, you know, in the sun... with a sleeveless shirt on and no sunblock. I didn't think it would be that bad... I had my towel draped over me and I wasn't really feeling too much sun, so I made the asinine assumption that it would all be ok. I guess what I forgot is that we're on the water, not to mention about 5 degrees north of the Equator... (actually, I just checked -- it's 7, not 5).
Alright... dinner's over, dishes are washed, and I'm wearing underwear. That's a pretty successful night, in my book. Now, further up and further in...
So the sunburn was pretty bad, but I've had worse... the first day I went directly to Moskito, the dive shop where I was staying, to check in and dump my bag. I took a quick walk around Phi Phi Town, which doesn't take long at all... this is a place with maybe 20 streets and no motorized vehicles of any kind, which totally adds to that whole "tropical paradise" feeling. The only thing you have to watch out for is the handcarts and bicycles that the locals use all over the place. You usually get some kind of warning, in most cases, it's a handy verbal one: "Beep beep beep beep!" That means get the hell out the way or I'll run your white ass down in Thai. No, seriously. I looked it up. It was bloody hot though, so after getting the lay of the land and seeing a couple beaches, I headed back to the dive shop for a little siesta time. It turns out that most of the divers and employees spend all their non-diving time hanging out at the dive shop and talking about diving, so I ended up hanging out with a group of Americans who'd been there for a few weeks and getting some pointers as to local hotspots. There aren't many, really... I mean, it's a small place. I had some dinner at Lemongrass, this nice little restaurant across the street from the shop. And by "across the street," I actually mean about 8 feet away, and local etiquette seems to dictate that you don't really wear shoes for such meager crossings. So, barefoot and well-fed on green curry chicken, I walked down to the little store and picked up some beer and then sat and chatted with the divers for a while. They invited me to join them to watch the video of their dive, so I went along, curious to see what I'd gotten myself into. The video was amazing! Yas, this Japanese chick, has some awesome equipment, not to mention a whole host of editing skillz... they had sharks, a seahorse, and 3 ghost pipe fish, which meant nothing to me apart from looking really cool, but the divers were in ecstacies watching... apparently they're pretty rare and Yas had gotten some exceptional shots. Next, it was off to Carlito's beach bar, for awesome cocktails (I'm just guessing really, but I think rum, coconut milk, chile, lemongrass and ... some sort of juice. I mean, wow...) All courtesy of Rob, who'd just had a nice payday and insisted on hooking me up! Thanks buddy! We drank, watched the firedancers for a while, chatted up the waitress, a hot little Swedish girl! Yowza... :) There are lots and lots of Swedes on Phi Phi -- it's a little strange, it's like their own little tropical playground. I mean, they're all nice folks, so no worries, just a bit odd. Then it was shots of some Italian liquor with the owner (Carlito? Perhaps....) and then off to Tiger Bar. More beers, people coming and going, dancing and drinking, laughing and crying... well, not so much, but you know. Finally headed out about 3, I think. After all, I had diving school at 9 the next morning -- I needed to be fresh! =)
Morning comes, I shower up and it's off to work I go! Well, not so much work, but studying, anyway. Reading a book, watching some DVD's and taking quizzes. But before I go on, a note about the shower situation in Thailand. They don't do the whole "heated" water thing there. I mean, it's not a big deal; it's really warm there, and the water is by no means uncomfortable. It's just strange to realize how much you take for granted sometimes. I didn't have a hot shower for 2 weeks... but I gotta say, there's something invigorating about that cool shower in the morning, and refreshing after a day spent in the sun and diving in the ocean. It's actually quite nice. OK, moving on. After a morning of book learning and a lunch of pad thai, we started the practical stuff in the afternoon. Walter, my dive instructor, showed us all the gear, how to put it together, how to test it all and make sure it's working, and how to take it apart. Then it was our turn. "Our," in this case, is Greg and I. Greg's an insurance broker from Brussels, and travelling with his adorable Belgian girlfriend, Emilie. She was supposed to be diving with him, but she got scared and bailed... I tihnk he was a little bitter at having to do this whole class with me instead of his girl, but who could blame him? Poor guy...
So, we got everything prepared. Not without a little difficulty -- there are several steps which after you've done it wrong and see why you have to do things in a certain order, seem like common sense. At first though, it's all a bit trial and error. Then we took everything apart. Then put it together again. And took it apart again. Then put it together again, and so on... When it was finally starting to feel fairly natural, Walter stopped us, told us to leave everything on, we were going to the beach! Time to actually dive in (or in this case, walk in) and, you know, breathe underwater! I was really excited, but anxious, nervous, and jittery would also be good adjectives to use here.
So, geared up and ready to bounce, we grabbed our masks and fins and strolled to the beach. Let me just say that a canister filled with 200 bars of compressed air, along with a BCD (buoyance control device) and wetsuit is really quite heavy, and not at all pleasant to go walking through the streets in, dodging carts and tourists and bicycles and shit along the way. But we made it, trudged down through the sand and headed out into the water. And then everything went wrong! But I'll save that for next time... a little suspense never hurt nobody.
Well, sorry, but I just can't do it. I don't want you all worrying yourselves into a frenzy, so I'll admit that I lied. Nothing went wrong. At least, nothing, you know, life-threatening... Cue the scary music! Cue it!
Monday, February 2, 2009
Thailand, Vol. III
I'm feeling lazy and rather dull today, like a donkey... not clever and determined, like the noble burro. But I'm gonna sit down and write for a bit anyway, lucky for you!
Let's see, where did I leave off? I know, I know, it's a fairly simple matter to just go look at the blog, but I'm going to sit here and try futilely to remember for a bit first, so bear with me.
Meh... never mind. I know this is all happening immediately in your imagination, but there was about a 6 minute break just now where I stared blankly at the wall and drooled on myself... ok. I'll be right back.
There we go... we had just had dinner with the Thai who owns the guesthouse, and we were on the way to meet the Aussies for drinks before the Muay Thai fight. I'm using the royal "we" here, for no good reason... I'll stop. I went to John's Place (the name of a bar, not the house of a guy named John). Anyway, when I got there I sat down with Gaz and Jess and their Irish friend... we'll call him Seamus. That's not his real name, but due to the prolific amount of beer I drank and his wonky Dubliner accent, I know absolutely nothing about this guy... except that he can drink like a whale. We had about an hour and a half before the fights started, so we got down to some serious drinking, and by the time 9:00 rolled around I was already feeling pretty loose. We had plans to meet the "Aussie sluts" at the ring, so we kinda strolled around this indoor/outdoor arena, consisting of a few bars, a boxing ring, and lots of like, picnic tables surrounding the ring. The Aussie sluts are actually 3 British girls who had been out the night before and had an older English guy walking by look over at them and mutter, "Aussie sluts." Curiously, the part of this they really took exception to was the "Aussie..." not so much the other half. Yeah, so Gaz, Jess, Seamus and I found them right by the ring, sat down, and ordered 3 more rounds of drinks, to be delivered whenever we needed them. This made the paying situation easier, but didn't turn out as well for me, in the long run. I guess that's how they roll in other more alcohol-friendly parts of the world... I dunno.
The fights, what I remember of them, were pretty sweet. One weird thing: they start learning fighting when they're really young, and by the time they're 14, they're professional pummeling machines, weighing about 105 pounds of solid writhing punchy-ness. So the first couple fights were actually training matches, like 11 and 12 year old kids just beating the living shit out of each other... it was really bizarre. Then there were a couple of lady-fights, with chicks who could probably wrestle a jackal with their bare hands and live to wear his skin home as some sort of trophy. Then we got to the real professional matches. This isn't like boxing as we're used to it; these guys can kick, elbow, knee and punch to score points. The elbows and knees, if I remember correctly, score more, because they're harder to land. A good chunk of these fights (they're pretty short -- 3 or 4 rounds, usually) consist of jabs and straight kicks to find your range, then backing the opponent into the corner and repeatedly jamming your knees up into the other guy's abdomen (which he blocks with his forearms and/or knees), followed by an attempted elbow to the side of the head. It's pretty entertaining to watch actually, and I'm not much of a violent-sports kinda guy. Then came the ... halftime show, I'll call it. I didn't remember this until I saw my own pictures of it... ha. But it was this tall Thai (what I assume must have been a) ladyboy with giant fake boobs, wearing nothing but a veil and a thong strutting around lipsynching to (what I assume must have been) popular Thai music. I'm pretty hazy by this point, but that's the gist I get from the photos. Finally, the headline match... between a Spanish guy and an actual Thai professional Thai fighter. We figured the Spanish guy would be SOL, but he freakin dominated... knocking the other guy out in the first round with (as I recall) a lock against the ropes, a series of knees, and a crazy spinning kick to the head that just dropped his opponent. It was nuts...
And then we drank some more at the ring, I chatted with these two French guys in Spanish for a while, and we went back to John's Place (just around the corner) for round 2. And this is how, in a previous entry, it came about that we ended up drinking with Mr. Victorious Spanish guy... who was actually really cool. I finally took my leave around (I'm guessing) 3am, and started to head home. Now, here's the fun part. This bar was on a main street, just across from the canal. All I had to do to get home was go out of the bar, take the first right, and walk for about a half-mile until I saw my guesthouse on a corner, on the right-hand side. Somehow, I managed to fuck this up royally. Maybe an hour later, when the worst of the alcohol haze starts to fade, I'm starting to wonder how much farther I can possibly have to walk, when I realize I'm in a completely unfamiliar neighborhood. Now, don't be worried, because by this point I was fortunate enough to have no phone, no watch (both of which I had left at the guesthouse for just such an occasion), and no money (left), so the chances of getting robbed were exceptionally remote. I take stock of my surroundings, see nothing whatsoever that might be of service, so I figure I'll just pick the direction that feels right and keep on truckin. This seems to be going fine for a while, in that I wasn't bored or anything, but it certainly didn't help me find my way home. Finally, I see a policeman standing guard outside of some gate. I ask for help... but by some unhappy coincidence he doesn't speak English, and I (to my surprise) don't speak Thai. He did manage, however, to track down a cab for me and I told him the road I needed. I neglected to mention, of course, that I didn't have any money. I figured we'd cross that bridge when we came to it. And that's the way it worked out... when we got there, he named some ridiculously high price, and I, being at this point sober enough to bargain, offered him half. He said ok, and I made the international sign for cash (rubbing my thumb against my first two fingertips back and forth, and pointed upstairs. He waited while I woke up the guesthouse lady, went upstairs, found an absurdly large denomination of Thai money, and he still made change for me at the price I had requested. They're good people, these Thais, I tell ya.
The next day, I slept late, ate spicy Thai food for breakfast to kill the hangover, drank a boatload of water, got a massage, ate more Thai food from a street stall, and went to bed. My flight the next morning left at 7 am, so I figured I should leave the guesthouse by no later than 5:30 to get there on time. Had to walk for about 10 minutes to find a tuk-tuk (like a motorized tricycle with 2 little seats in the back and a small roof) to take me to the airport, but it's only about a 10-minute ride, anyway. Caught a flight to Bangkok, then another to Phuket, an island in the south of Thailand on the west coast. I had heard that Phuket was kind of shitty, and it turned out to be more or less true, but I needed to go there to get a boat to Phi Phi, so I figured I'd spend a day there and take a look around. In retrospect, I'd say this was a poor decision... nothing bad happened, it just really is a shithole. I was couchsurfing though, so at least I didn't have to pay for a room for that night. Plus the guy I stayed with had a kick-ass house and took me to his favorite restaurant for dinner, and we had amazingly spicy and good food (laab ped and som tam, I think, plus some sticky rice and a couple different kinds of sausage. The laab ped (I seriously doubt I'm spelling that right, but whatever) is duck, ground and cooked and mixed with vegetables and Thai chiles... the som tam that we had was a cold cabbage salad with raw crab legs and Thai chiles... I was later told that it was awfully dumb to eat raw seafood in Thailand, but it was actually really good. Sweet and juicy and spicy all at the same time. Then we went to a nearby bar for a beer, but he had to work the next day so we headed back to his place and crashed pretty early. Next morning I got up, had a donut, read and interneted for a while and then he took me to a nearby hotel where I could catch the minibus that would take me to the pier and the ferry to Ko Phi Phi.
Wow... that was a lot of writing... sorry to put ya'll through that. I mean, no, it's good, right? You're still with me? Yeah, you're still with me. Well, don't turn that dial, because the next installment of Sean in Thailand is coming up right after this message from our sponsors.
Let's see, where did I leave off? I know, I know, it's a fairly simple matter to just go look at the blog, but I'm going to sit here and try futilely to remember for a bit first, so bear with me.
Meh... never mind. I know this is all happening immediately in your imagination, but there was about a 6 minute break just now where I stared blankly at the wall and drooled on myself... ok. I'll be right back.
There we go... we had just had dinner with the Thai who owns the guesthouse, and we were on the way to meet the Aussies for drinks before the Muay Thai fight. I'm using the royal "we" here, for no good reason... I'll stop. I went to John's Place (the name of a bar, not the house of a guy named John). Anyway, when I got there I sat down with Gaz and Jess and their Irish friend... we'll call him Seamus. That's not his real name, but due to the prolific amount of beer I drank and his wonky Dubliner accent, I know absolutely nothing about this guy... except that he can drink like a whale. We had about an hour and a half before the fights started, so we got down to some serious drinking, and by the time 9:00 rolled around I was already feeling pretty loose. We had plans to meet the "Aussie sluts" at the ring, so we kinda strolled around this indoor/outdoor arena, consisting of a few bars, a boxing ring, and lots of like, picnic tables surrounding the ring. The Aussie sluts are actually 3 British girls who had been out the night before and had an older English guy walking by look over at them and mutter, "Aussie sluts." Curiously, the part of this they really took exception to was the "Aussie..." not so much the other half. Yeah, so Gaz, Jess, Seamus and I found them right by the ring, sat down, and ordered 3 more rounds of drinks, to be delivered whenever we needed them. This made the paying situation easier, but didn't turn out as well for me, in the long run. I guess that's how they roll in other more alcohol-friendly parts of the world... I dunno.
The fights, what I remember of them, were pretty sweet. One weird thing: they start learning fighting when they're really young, and by the time they're 14, they're professional pummeling machines, weighing about 105 pounds of solid writhing punchy-ness. So the first couple fights were actually training matches, like 11 and 12 year old kids just beating the living shit out of each other... it was really bizarre. Then there were a couple of lady-fights, with chicks who could probably wrestle a jackal with their bare hands and live to wear his skin home as some sort of trophy. Then we got to the real professional matches. This isn't like boxing as we're used to it; these guys can kick, elbow, knee and punch to score points. The elbows and knees, if I remember correctly, score more, because they're harder to land. A good chunk of these fights (they're pretty short -- 3 or 4 rounds, usually) consist of jabs and straight kicks to find your range, then backing the opponent into the corner and repeatedly jamming your knees up into the other guy's abdomen (which he blocks with his forearms and/or knees), followed by an attempted elbow to the side of the head. It's pretty entertaining to watch actually, and I'm not much of a violent-sports kinda guy. Then came the ... halftime show, I'll call it. I didn't remember this until I saw my own pictures of it... ha. But it was this tall Thai (what I assume must have been a) ladyboy with giant fake boobs, wearing nothing but a veil and a thong strutting around lipsynching to (what I assume must have been) popular Thai music. I'm pretty hazy by this point, but that's the gist I get from the photos. Finally, the headline match... between a Spanish guy and an actual Thai professional Thai fighter. We figured the Spanish guy would be SOL, but he freakin dominated... knocking the other guy out in the first round with (as I recall) a lock against the ropes, a series of knees, and a crazy spinning kick to the head that just dropped his opponent. It was nuts...
And then we drank some more at the ring, I chatted with these two French guys in Spanish for a while, and we went back to John's Place (just around the corner) for round 2. And this is how, in a previous entry, it came about that we ended up drinking with Mr. Victorious Spanish guy... who was actually really cool. I finally took my leave around (I'm guessing) 3am, and started to head home. Now, here's the fun part. This bar was on a main street, just across from the canal. All I had to do to get home was go out of the bar, take the first right, and walk for about a half-mile until I saw my guesthouse on a corner, on the right-hand side. Somehow, I managed to fuck this up royally. Maybe an hour later, when the worst of the alcohol haze starts to fade, I'm starting to wonder how much farther I can possibly have to walk, when I realize I'm in a completely unfamiliar neighborhood. Now, don't be worried, because by this point I was fortunate enough to have no phone, no watch (both of which I had left at the guesthouse for just such an occasion), and no money (left), so the chances of getting robbed were exceptionally remote. I take stock of my surroundings, see nothing whatsoever that might be of service, so I figure I'll just pick the direction that feels right and keep on truckin. This seems to be going fine for a while, in that I wasn't bored or anything, but it certainly didn't help me find my way home. Finally, I see a policeman standing guard outside of some gate. I ask for help... but by some unhappy coincidence he doesn't speak English, and I (to my surprise) don't speak Thai. He did manage, however, to track down a cab for me and I told him the road I needed. I neglected to mention, of course, that I didn't have any money. I figured we'd cross that bridge when we came to it. And that's the way it worked out... when we got there, he named some ridiculously high price, and I, being at this point sober enough to bargain, offered him half. He said ok, and I made the international sign for cash (rubbing my thumb against my first two fingertips back and forth, and pointed upstairs. He waited while I woke up the guesthouse lady, went upstairs, found an absurdly large denomination of Thai money, and he still made change for me at the price I had requested. They're good people, these Thais, I tell ya.
The next day, I slept late, ate spicy Thai food for breakfast to kill the hangover, drank a boatload of water, got a massage, ate more Thai food from a street stall, and went to bed. My flight the next morning left at 7 am, so I figured I should leave the guesthouse by no later than 5:30 to get there on time. Had to walk for about 10 minutes to find a tuk-tuk (like a motorized tricycle with 2 little seats in the back and a small roof) to take me to the airport, but it's only about a 10-minute ride, anyway. Caught a flight to Bangkok, then another to Phuket, an island in the south of Thailand on the west coast. I had heard that Phuket was kind of shitty, and it turned out to be more or less true, but I needed to go there to get a boat to Phi Phi, so I figured I'd spend a day there and take a look around. In retrospect, I'd say this was a poor decision... nothing bad happened, it just really is a shithole. I was couchsurfing though, so at least I didn't have to pay for a room for that night. Plus the guy I stayed with had a kick-ass house and took me to his favorite restaurant for dinner, and we had amazingly spicy and good food (laab ped and som tam, I think, plus some sticky rice and a couple different kinds of sausage. The laab ped (I seriously doubt I'm spelling that right, but whatever) is duck, ground and cooked and mixed with vegetables and Thai chiles... the som tam that we had was a cold cabbage salad with raw crab legs and Thai chiles... I was later told that it was awfully dumb to eat raw seafood in Thailand, but it was actually really good. Sweet and juicy and spicy all at the same time. Then we went to a nearby bar for a beer, but he had to work the next day so we headed back to his place and crashed pretty early. Next morning I got up, had a donut, read and interneted for a while and then he took me to a nearby hotel where I could catch the minibus that would take me to the pier and the ferry to Ko Phi Phi.
Wow... that was a lot of writing... sorry to put ya'll through that. I mean, no, it's good, right? You're still with me? Yeah, you're still with me. Well, don't turn that dial, because the next installment of Sean in Thailand is coming up right after this message from our sponsors.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Fast forward to present
I'm sitting at my apartment, watching the Australian Open and drinking beer. I just finished up doing my laundry from the trip, which was absolutely necessary because my clothes (and therefore my bag) smelled like an elephant spitting on a sweaty chimpnazee, mixed with alcohol and curry and just a dash of the beach (i.e. sunscreen, mosquito spray, sand and salt). So I'm sitting here typing with my beer, and I just happen to be watching the 2nd semifinal, which looks like a hyperactive Spanish guy with a mean face and a hyperactive forehand playing his own mirror image. Nadal v. Verdasco. They're both Spaniards, both fit as hell, smart, left-handed, and just the right amount of crazy, and it's amazing. I'm a little sad that it's like 4:50am in the states right now, and my mom is missing it. This is the best match I've seen in a long time; both guys are swinging for the fences, going for it like it's their last day on Earth. Scottie -- I know you don't really like watching tennis, but this is awesome.
These guys are flinging their bodies all over the court, wrenching forehands crosscourt, running as though they're being chased by a werewolf on crack, hitting crazy topspin lobs, throwing the occasional drop shot to keep the other guy honest. It's just beautiful tennis, and as much as I like Federer, I think he's gonna have a helluva time with whichever guy wins this match. They both want it so much, it's incredible.
At deuce, up 5-4 in the 2nd after losing the 1st, Nadal just hit this crazy curving forehand that must have bent at least 6 feet back into the court, at a dead sprint, and it landed well inside the sideline to set up break point. He ends up taking the 2nd set. Now it's 1 set apiece and both these guys are playing amazing... I feel for Federer, because whoever wins this match is going to be on an amazing high when they play next, while he pretty much just took care of business against Roddick. As much as I really don't like Nadal... just call it the problem of seeing a young punk who's freakishly athletic taking over a sport that I'm actually pretty good at because I'm smart and consistent and I try hard (much like Federer, and Agassi before him, and Courier and McEnroe and Connors before him)... none of those guys were amazing athletes. I mean, sure, they all became athletes because they wanted to win, but they started out with a dream and conviction and smarts and determination, and that was enough. That's what I want to see; that's whom I want to see succeed; not some freak who's ripped to shreds and has some superhuman hand-eye coordination and ability to pit spins on the ball noone's ever seen before. Call me old-fashioned, but I like watching smart, less-athletic players beat Nadal. I also like watching up-and-coming Spaniards who modeled their game after his beat him at his own game. :) Because it proves that hard work still counts for something in this world, and that freakish athletic talent will only take you so far. I know that I'm oversimplifying here, and that Nadal works really hard at what he does, but this is just my gut feeling here... so bear with me. I also know Verdasco just hit a forehand winner at 157 km/hr... which is damn near a 100 mph. Which is damn near crazy.
Allow me to opine on the challenge system for a moment. Verdasco just a lost a point in which he had the clear advantage because he stopped playing to challenge a call that he felt was wrong. Now, if he'd just kept playing, he *probably* would've won the point. But he stopped play to challenge a call, which turned out to be right. Nadal's shot, called in, did indeed catch the back of the line. Because Verdasco stopped play instead of putting away the point, he lost that point and subsequently, the game. Now Nadal's up a break in the 3rd, which is not a good place to play from for Verdasco. And then... the reason I love this kid. He comes up with amazing shots one after another to break back immediately at love, and put himself right back into the 3rd set. Let's do this thing! It's gonna be a long night here in the East. ;)
These guys are flinging their bodies all over the court, wrenching forehands crosscourt, running as though they're being chased by a werewolf on crack, hitting crazy topspin lobs, throwing the occasional drop shot to keep the other guy honest. It's just beautiful tennis, and as much as I like Federer, I think he's gonna have a helluva time with whichever guy wins this match. They both want it so much, it's incredible.
At deuce, up 5-4 in the 2nd after losing the 1st, Nadal just hit this crazy curving forehand that must have bent at least 6 feet back into the court, at a dead sprint, and it landed well inside the sideline to set up break point. He ends up taking the 2nd set. Now it's 1 set apiece and both these guys are playing amazing... I feel for Federer, because whoever wins this match is going to be on an amazing high when they play next, while he pretty much just took care of business against Roddick. As much as I really don't like Nadal... just call it the problem of seeing a young punk who's freakishly athletic taking over a sport that I'm actually pretty good at because I'm smart and consistent and I try hard (much like Federer, and Agassi before him, and Courier and McEnroe and Connors before him)... none of those guys were amazing athletes. I mean, sure, they all became athletes because they wanted to win, but they started out with a dream and conviction and smarts and determination, and that was enough. That's what I want to see; that's whom I want to see succeed; not some freak who's ripped to shreds and has some superhuman hand-eye coordination and ability to pit spins on the ball noone's ever seen before. Call me old-fashioned, but I like watching smart, less-athletic players beat Nadal. I also like watching up-and-coming Spaniards who modeled their game after his beat him at his own game. :) Because it proves that hard work still counts for something in this world, and that freakish athletic talent will only take you so far. I know that I'm oversimplifying here, and that Nadal works really hard at what he does, but this is just my gut feeling here... so bear with me. I also know Verdasco just hit a forehand winner at 157 km/hr... which is damn near a 100 mph. Which is damn near crazy.
Allow me to opine on the challenge system for a moment. Verdasco just a lost a point in which he had the clear advantage because he stopped playing to challenge a call that he felt was wrong. Now, if he'd just kept playing, he *probably* would've won the point. But he stopped play to challenge a call, which turned out to be right. Nadal's shot, called in, did indeed catch the back of the line. Because Verdasco stopped play instead of putting away the point, he lost that point and subsequently, the game. Now Nadal's up a break in the 3rd, which is not a good place to play from for Verdasco. And then... the reason I love this kid. He comes up with amazing shots one after another to break back immediately at love, and put himself right back into the 3rd set. Let's do this thing! It's gonna be a long night here in the East. ;)
Thailand: Ziplining and other adventures
This was the first time I'd ever done the ziplining thing. Fortunately, just before I left I was rewatching season 5 of The Office, where Toby reveals that he went ziplining his 3rd day in Costa Rica, broke his neck, and has spent the last 5 weeks in a god-forsaken hospital. "I never even saw the beach."
Actually, it's very safe; much safer, I'd guess, than the elephant riding and hiking I was to experience the next day. Also, much much safer than the riding standing up on the tailgate of a truck for an hour down the freeway... but we'll get to that. You're clipped on at all times. Either to the cable itself, or other cables around each tree that holds a platform. I mean, that doesn't stop you from freaking out a lil bit the first time you look down off the platform into open jungle and resolve to actually step off the platform into nothingness... but honestly, you'd be surprised how quickly it gets to feel ok, even normal. By the 3rd or 4th one, I was getting a running start, launching myself with wild abandon out over the trees and rivers beneath, trying my damndest to turn upside down and ride inverted down the cable like our guide. Whose name, by the way, is Leo Jr. As in, Leonard Dicaprio Jr. He was kinda cute, I guess... but still. The other guy was called "No-name," maybe because he wasn't fortunate enough to have a family member in the biz. Who knows? So Leo Jr. had a habit of flipping his body upside down and riding completely vertically down the zipline, legs in the air and screaming like a banshee, until the last possible moment whereupon he'd flip expertly over in the air and land gently on the platform, his body hovering over the edge for a moment until he'd shout "Oh my Buddha!" and then step effortlessly out and he'd balance teetering, on the edge until we all gasped or laughed, and then he'd start yelling at us for taking too long.
So this continued on for a coupla hours, more or less unhindered. I was with this Thai fella who owns a guesthouse; he was checking it out to see whether his house will start booking the tour for his guests. Also, a French guy named Eddie who was cool as shit; a British girl, Laura; and an Israeli couple whose names I can't remember. I do know, however, that they were on their honeymoon, and that I'd run into them again later on. That, my friends, is a story for another time. The pictures can be found here. =) Enjoy. See you tomorrow; same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.
Actually, it's very safe; much safer, I'd guess, than the elephant riding and hiking I was to experience the next day. Also, much much safer than the riding standing up on the tailgate of a truck for an hour down the freeway... but we'll get to that. You're clipped on at all times. Either to the cable itself, or other cables around each tree that holds a platform. I mean, that doesn't stop you from freaking out a lil bit the first time you look down off the platform into open jungle and resolve to actually step off the platform into nothingness... but honestly, you'd be surprised how quickly it gets to feel ok, even normal. By the 3rd or 4th one, I was getting a running start, launching myself with wild abandon out over the trees and rivers beneath, trying my damndest to turn upside down and ride inverted down the cable like our guide. Whose name, by the way, is Leo Jr. As in, Leonard Dicaprio Jr. He was kinda cute, I guess... but still. The other guy was called "No-name," maybe because he wasn't fortunate enough to have a family member in the biz. Who knows? So Leo Jr. had a habit of flipping his body upside down and riding completely vertically down the zipline, legs in the air and screaming like a banshee, until the last possible moment whereupon he'd flip expertly over in the air and land gently on the platform, his body hovering over the edge for a moment until he'd shout "Oh my Buddha!" and then step effortlessly out and he'd balance teetering, on the edge until we all gasped or laughed, and then he'd start yelling at us for taking too long.
So this continued on for a coupla hours, more or less unhindered. I was with this Thai fella who owns a guesthouse; he was checking it out to see whether his house will start booking the tour for his guests. Also, a French guy named Eddie who was cool as shit; a British girl, Laura; and an Israeli couple whose names I can't remember. I do know, however, that they were on their honeymoon, and that I'd run into them again later on. That, my friends, is a story for another time. The pictures can be found here. =) Enjoy. See you tomorrow; same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.
Thailand: Humble Beginnings
So I've decided I'm going to try to document this trip in installments; that way, we hope, nothing gets left out and I can try to relive the adventures in relatively full and embiggening splendour. So I start, as is my wont, at the beginning.
It was a cold day, dark and windy, a light snow beginning to dust Janghowon. I had already decided not to pack my coat, since I wanted to travel light, with just a small backpack. I was seriously considering scrapping the whole idea, just so that I'd be able to bring my coat along for the 1st stage of my journey: a bus to Icheon and a 2nd bus to the airport. It was that cold. After my final day of English camp, which went really well, by the way, I had lunch with Mi Sun and Bo Il. Mi Sun was kind enough to help me out for the 2nd week of English camp while Bo Il was on vacation, but he showed up anyway to help wrap things up and send me off in style. After lunch, Mi Sun took me to the ATM so I could stock up on cash (which turned to be a lifesaver, but I'll explain later). Then she dropped me off near my house, and I was walking home I saw Dave, the Canadian who teaches at the high school here. He offered to pick me up after work and drive me to Icheon since he was going that way anyway. So that was one problem solved.
By the way, I was going to the airport on Friday night, even though my flight wasn't till Saturday morning. This is because, in Korea, the buses quit running at around 8 or 9 and don't begin again until the morning, around 7. My flight was at 8am, it's a 3-hour trip, and obviously I needed to be there ~2 hours early, it being an international flight and all. So all of these factors combined, I felt it would be smartest to just go to the airport on Friday night and sleep there -- another reason I wanted to have just the one bag. I figured I could use it as a pillow and not be robbed, you see.
So, Dave wanted to take his dog for a walk around Icheon, which gave me a chance to do some shoe shopping. Because, you know, I'm a chick. No, actually, it's because I knew I was gonna be hiking through the jungle and crossing rivers and shit, and I wanted to get some shoes that could handle that. I didn't find what I was looking for -- you know the trekking sandals that lots of backpackers wear, often with socks? ha -- but I did manage to find some aqua shoes that seemed pretty sturdy, so I picked those up, had dinner and got on the bus. The first stage of the journey was unremarkable. The airport sleeping thing worked out pretty well; as well as can be expected anyway. I got a decent night's sleep once I found this little lounge that was vacant and had nice padded seats. I just pushed 3 together, took off my shoes and crashed out. I think I woke up around 5am, had some breakfast at the ole airport Burger King, and went to my gate.
Flight was fine. I got to Hong Kong airport, where I realized the first (of what may be many, or only one, who knows) major shortcoming of this airport. You know how most airports have those screens that tell you flight status, departure gates and times... like, everywhere? Well, not Hong Kong. It took me a good 20 minutes to find one after wandering up and down the whole freaking concourse, repeatedly. I finally had to leave, and head out towards the food court and everything, just to find my connecting flight. But no biggie, I had lots of time and I was pretty close. Again, flight was fine. This one had the entertainment on demand thing, so I got to watch a big chunk of the 6th season of Family Guy, which rocked. And I gotta say, Cathay Pacific has some amazing food and service. They still do the whole free booze thing, even in economy. And the flight attendants are awesome. And gorgeous, but that's besides the point. Anyway... ;)
I finally arrived in Bangkok, but so many people told me what a cesspool it is and how I shouldn't waste my time there that I had decided to head straight up to Chiang Mai that night and not even bother with it. So after another brief wait, I hopped on another plane, this one a Thai Air flight, and got my ass to Chiang Mai. Um, they served this weird like, chicken pastry. It was good. Just weird. Sorry I didn't take a picture, because it looked really interesting.
Upon arrival in Chiang Mai, I promptly (way over-)paid for a cab and went to my awesome guesthouse. I think I've already detailed the problems I soon encountered, but if not, here they are again. I had booked online to do the "Flight of the Gibbon" ziplining thing the next day, along with a homestay in a village and then rock climbing the 2nd day. What I discovered when I arrived, however, was that the company I booked with would only accept cash. Now, I had an idea that my Korean ATM card wouldn't work worth a damn here, and sho' nuff, nothing. I had Korean cash, but it was like 10pm on a Saturday night, so there was no real chance of me getting more Thai money before Monday morning... boo. Luckily, the woman who ran the guesthouse called the ziplining place, cancelled my order, replaced it with just the one-day ziplining, rather than the 2-day thing, and saved me like, almost a hundred bucks. Then she hooked me up with a one-day trek on Monday that involved the Elephant riding, rafting, hiking, Akha village stop, and everything. Altogether I paid 2600Baht, or around $75-80... instead of the $175 I would have paid... she rocked! Thanks Nine! :)
Then I went to bed, exhausted! More coming soon; in part 2, we'll learn about ziplining and the glory of the Green Tulip Guesthouse! Stay tuned.
It was a cold day, dark and windy, a light snow beginning to dust Janghowon. I had already decided not to pack my coat, since I wanted to travel light, with just a small backpack. I was seriously considering scrapping the whole idea, just so that I'd be able to bring my coat along for the 1st stage of my journey: a bus to Icheon and a 2nd bus to the airport. It was that cold. After my final day of English camp, which went really well, by the way, I had lunch with Mi Sun and Bo Il. Mi Sun was kind enough to help me out for the 2nd week of English camp while Bo Il was on vacation, but he showed up anyway to help wrap things up and send me off in style. After lunch, Mi Sun took me to the ATM so I could stock up on cash (which turned to be a lifesaver, but I'll explain later). Then she dropped me off near my house, and I was walking home I saw Dave, the Canadian who teaches at the high school here. He offered to pick me up after work and drive me to Icheon since he was going that way anyway. So that was one problem solved.
By the way, I was going to the airport on Friday night, even though my flight wasn't till Saturday morning. This is because, in Korea, the buses quit running at around 8 or 9 and don't begin again until the morning, around 7. My flight was at 8am, it's a 3-hour trip, and obviously I needed to be there ~2 hours early, it being an international flight and all. So all of these factors combined, I felt it would be smartest to just go to the airport on Friday night and sleep there -- another reason I wanted to have just the one bag. I figured I could use it as a pillow and not be robbed, you see.
So, Dave wanted to take his dog for a walk around Icheon, which gave me a chance to do some shoe shopping. Because, you know, I'm a chick. No, actually, it's because I knew I was gonna be hiking through the jungle and crossing rivers and shit, and I wanted to get some shoes that could handle that. I didn't find what I was looking for -- you know the trekking sandals that lots of backpackers wear, often with socks? ha -- but I did manage to find some aqua shoes that seemed pretty sturdy, so I picked those up, had dinner and got on the bus. The first stage of the journey was unremarkable. The airport sleeping thing worked out pretty well; as well as can be expected anyway. I got a decent night's sleep once I found this little lounge that was vacant and had nice padded seats. I just pushed 3 together, took off my shoes and crashed out. I think I woke up around 5am, had some breakfast at the ole airport Burger King, and went to my gate.
Flight was fine. I got to Hong Kong airport, where I realized the first (of what may be many, or only one, who knows) major shortcoming of this airport. You know how most airports have those screens that tell you flight status, departure gates and times... like, everywhere? Well, not Hong Kong. It took me a good 20 minutes to find one after wandering up and down the whole freaking concourse, repeatedly. I finally had to leave, and head out towards the food court and everything, just to find my connecting flight. But no biggie, I had lots of time and I was pretty close. Again, flight was fine. This one had the entertainment on demand thing, so I got to watch a big chunk of the 6th season of Family Guy, which rocked. And I gotta say, Cathay Pacific has some amazing food and service. They still do the whole free booze thing, even in economy. And the flight attendants are awesome. And gorgeous, but that's besides the point. Anyway... ;)
I finally arrived in Bangkok, but so many people told me what a cesspool it is and how I shouldn't waste my time there that I had decided to head straight up to Chiang Mai that night and not even bother with it. So after another brief wait, I hopped on another plane, this one a Thai Air flight, and got my ass to Chiang Mai. Um, they served this weird like, chicken pastry. It was good. Just weird. Sorry I didn't take a picture, because it looked really interesting.
Upon arrival in Chiang Mai, I promptly (way over-)paid for a cab and went to my awesome guesthouse. I think I've already detailed the problems I soon encountered, but if not, here they are again. I had booked online to do the "Flight of the Gibbon" ziplining thing the next day, along with a homestay in a village and then rock climbing the 2nd day. What I discovered when I arrived, however, was that the company I booked with would only accept cash. Now, I had an idea that my Korean ATM card wouldn't work worth a damn here, and sho' nuff, nothing. I had Korean cash, but it was like 10pm on a Saturday night, so there was no real chance of me getting more Thai money before Monday morning... boo. Luckily, the woman who ran the guesthouse called the ziplining place, cancelled my order, replaced it with just the one-day ziplining, rather than the 2-day thing, and saved me like, almost a hundred bucks. Then she hooked me up with a one-day trek on Monday that involved the Elephant riding, rafting, hiking, Akha village stop, and everything. Altogether I paid 2600Baht, or around $75-80... instead of the $175 I would have paid... she rocked! Thanks Nine! :)
Then I went to bed, exhausted! More coming soon; in part 2, we'll learn about ziplining and the glory of the Green Tulip Guesthouse! Stay tuned.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Update from Thailand!
This is my 3rd day here. I love it... it's insanely cheap to stay and eat and everything. The countryside is amazing... green and lush and warm. So, today is Tuesday, and I'm having a relaxing day. On Sunday, I went ziplining through the jungle. There'll be pictures soon, I promise! Yesterday, I went on a little 1 day do-everything trek. We rode in a songthaew, I think... I'm not sure about the spelling on that one. Clearly. Well, anyway, there were 10 of us in the back... like a pickup truck bed with a frame covering it and benches down either side. So, yeah. It was a little tight. So Gaz (this kick-ass Aussie) and I opened the tailgate and rode standing up on the back. I've got pictures of that too... I know you're all dying to see them! =) Then we visited this orchid farm and butterfly little... thing. I don't know. The night ended up with me getting really drunk with an Aussie couple, 3 British chicks and a Spanish Muay Thai boxer. I think I got back to the hotel around 4am, so keep that in mind as you read. Thanks. =)
The orchid farm sucked. I mean, it was pretty and all, I just didn't care. Then we drove to an Akha hill tribe village and took a look around. It was a little strange -- walking into this little house and there's a sick child laying in bed while our guide told us about the tribe's homes and whatnot... I wasn't really into that, but whatever. Part of the voyage, I guess, right? Next, it was off to see the wizard. No -- wait, off to ride the elephants. Usually, there are 2 people per elephant and they ride on a little seat fixed to the elephant's back. I say usually, because by some happy coincidence an English girl and I got to hop on the elephants head and ride the whole way straddling the damn thing. This was awesome! But, there are some pitfalls here... I mean, an elephant's shoulders are huge, and they move a lot when they walk, so you have to find this sort of rolling gait with your body. Not unlike riding a horse, just slower and more movement. And our elephant was a hungry hungry hippo -- she stopped to eat a lot, so I got a first hand view of an elephant tearing leaves off of trees with her trunk. Also, elephants are really filthy. Every time I patted her on the head dust clouds just flew off of her. So, very soon I was completely filthy as well. That was quite alright though, because our next stop was a 30 minute hike through the jungle, and over a river, and back again, and over again, and back again... I think about 8 times total. Mostly on rocks, but once (on the way there, and again on the way back) on a fallen tree trunk about 10 feet in the air, with nothing to hold onto or anything. I'm pretty sure this sort of thing would be frowned upon in America. I guess the elephants as well, not to mention the riding standing up and hanging off the back of a truck. All of these things, I suppose, are fairly common here. =)
The waterfall was nice... I'm sure it would have been better in the wet season, but it was still pretty impressive. We had a good swim in the pool up there by the waterfall, then shared some Thai cigars that one of the guys had bought from the hill tribe. Tasty... I think wrapped in some sort of leaf. Then we had lunch... pad thai (which was also wrapped in some sort of leaf) and fresh papaya that our guide jacked from a tree as we were bouncing along on the elephants. Then we rafted down the river for about an hour... first through some rapids (that would also benefit greatly from the rainy season, I'm guessing, because they weren't very rapid) on a white water-type inflata-boat. Then we traded those in for bamboo "rafts." I use the quotes because these things, by their very nature, float about 6-12 inches below the water. Not all the time, but after 6 people jumped on it, then yeah... so you're basically floating along, sitting on this long raft, with water up over your waist... this was not how they pictured it in the brochure. If I can find another copy of it, I'll do a little compare and contrasty time for you. It's really pretty funny.
That was it... we rode back to Chiang Mai and then I showered up and went out to meet the Aussie couple and the Brits for drinks before we went to the boxing match. On my way to meet them, I saw a Thai who owns a guesthouse here, who was also on the ziplining tour. He was eating dinner with his sister and this Icelandic woman who's been staying at their guesthouse since October. So they invited me to join them, and I sat and had a spicy, cold "glass noodle" salad with chicken and vegetables -- yum. =) Then I met up with the crew, along with an Irish guy, a Dubliner. I have no idea what his name was... because it turns out that Dubliners don't speak English, really. I have no problem with South Africans, Kiwis, Aussies, Brits, even the Icelandic woman's English was perfectly understandable. But not this guy. So that was fun. =)
And it turns out I'm out of time for the internet today, and I'm tired of writing anyway. So, stay tuned. I'll be back!
The orchid farm sucked. I mean, it was pretty and all, I just didn't care. Then we drove to an Akha hill tribe village and took a look around. It was a little strange -- walking into this little house and there's a sick child laying in bed while our guide told us about the tribe's homes and whatnot... I wasn't really into that, but whatever. Part of the voyage, I guess, right? Next, it was off to see the wizard. No -- wait, off to ride the elephants. Usually, there are 2 people per elephant and they ride on a little seat fixed to the elephant's back. I say usually, because by some happy coincidence an English girl and I got to hop on the elephants head and ride the whole way straddling the damn thing. This was awesome! But, there are some pitfalls here... I mean, an elephant's shoulders are huge, and they move a lot when they walk, so you have to find this sort of rolling gait with your body. Not unlike riding a horse, just slower and more movement. And our elephant was a hungry hungry hippo -- she stopped to eat a lot, so I got a first hand view of an elephant tearing leaves off of trees with her trunk. Also, elephants are really filthy. Every time I patted her on the head dust clouds just flew off of her. So, very soon I was completely filthy as well. That was quite alright though, because our next stop was a 30 minute hike through the jungle, and over a river, and back again, and over again, and back again... I think about 8 times total. Mostly on rocks, but once (on the way there, and again on the way back) on a fallen tree trunk about 10 feet in the air, with nothing to hold onto or anything. I'm pretty sure this sort of thing would be frowned upon in America. I guess the elephants as well, not to mention the riding standing up and hanging off the back of a truck. All of these things, I suppose, are fairly common here. =)
The waterfall was nice... I'm sure it would have been better in the wet season, but it was still pretty impressive. We had a good swim in the pool up there by the waterfall, then shared some Thai cigars that one of the guys had bought from the hill tribe. Tasty... I think wrapped in some sort of leaf. Then we had lunch... pad thai (which was also wrapped in some sort of leaf) and fresh papaya that our guide jacked from a tree as we were bouncing along on the elephants. Then we rafted down the river for about an hour... first through some rapids (that would also benefit greatly from the rainy season, I'm guessing, because they weren't very rapid) on a white water-type inflata-boat. Then we traded those in for bamboo "rafts." I use the quotes because these things, by their very nature, float about 6-12 inches below the water. Not all the time, but after 6 people jumped on it, then yeah... so you're basically floating along, sitting on this long raft, with water up over your waist... this was not how they pictured it in the brochure. If I can find another copy of it, I'll do a little compare and contrasty time for you. It's really pretty funny.
That was it... we rode back to Chiang Mai and then I showered up and went out to meet the Aussie couple and the Brits for drinks before we went to the boxing match. On my way to meet them, I saw a Thai who owns a guesthouse here, who was also on the ziplining tour. He was eating dinner with his sister and this Icelandic woman who's been staying at their guesthouse since October. So they invited me to join them, and I sat and had a spicy, cold "glass noodle" salad with chicken and vegetables -- yum. =) Then I met up with the crew, along with an Irish guy, a Dubliner. I have no idea what his name was... because it turns out that Dubliners don't speak English, really. I have no problem with South Africans, Kiwis, Aussies, Brits, even the Icelandic woman's English was perfectly understandable. But not this guy. So that was fun. =)
And it turns out I'm out of time for the internet today, and I'm tired of writing anyway. So, stay tuned. I'll be back!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
One of the worst things about teaching in Korea...
Is the other foreign teachers. Or at least, so I've been told by the Canadian guy who's lived here for several years now. I've done a fairly good job of avoiding most web forums and any place where I might be subjected to the bitching and moaning that inevitably happens when people are living in a foreign land and having any sort of trouble, be it personal, professional, emotional or otherwise.
Today, I was looking at something online... I'm not even sure how I got onto this line of searching, honestly. Anyway, I ended up checking out a few of the other blogs written by westerners here in Korea. And wow. They really do bitch a lot. It's ridiculous. One guy posts like 3 or 4 times a day, picking up news articles that are even remotely critical of any Western presence here in Korea. I mean, sure, there are probably xenophobes here just like any other society. Although I'd venture a guess (based on my very limited experience) that they are less numerous and less vocal than their American counterparts. I'm not going to spend a lot of time talking about this, mostly because I'm sure he has a very good reason for writing what he does... but also because I don't want to dwell on an unpleasant aspect of my life here. I mean, is my life here perfect? Of course not! But is it absolutely satisfactory? Hell yeah it is... I dunno. Some people aren't content unless they're pissed about something.
And the thing is, there are (probably a lot of) Koreans who don't enjoy the presence of so many Westerners in their country. I'm sure that lots of them, especially the ones who live near American army bases and have to deal with GI's out drinking and chatting up their girlfriends and daughters... well, not to denigrate our brave servicemen, but I hung out with a bunch of them at a bar in Seoul a few weeks ago and let's just say, I can imagine there are some feelings of resentment. But the vast majority of Koreans that I've met have been exceptionally kind, generous and helpful. At least, to the extent that they can be with the language barrier... you know. And also... I mean, hello! It's an entirely different culture; different worldview; different mores. I think the close proximity to American/Western culture in a number of areas (technology, education, bureaucracy) gives us a false sense of security in our knowledge about how Koreans view us and their world, when in reality it's extremely unfair of us to make any kind of judgment at all about the way in which they comport themselves, be it in daily life, the politics, or the media. It's ridiculous for us to bitch about their culture and say they're being unfair or confrontational to Westerners, or even merely xenophobic; it's ridiculous for us to make any kind of judgment at all based on our preconceptions of how people should behave in any specific arena. That's my two cents. I said I wouldn't get into it; I just couldn't help myself. Thanks for bearing with me.
I'm leaving late tomorrow night for Thailand. I'm packing light, which means no laptop for the next couple weeks. If I get access to internet while I'm away, I'll try to drop an update or two when I can; hopefully when I get back I'll have lots of pictures to share. Just a forewarning that new posts might be hard to come by till the end of January.
You know, normally I'm a stickler for grammar. Not so much to the point of correcting people, or even using correct grammar; I just notice it constantly. The curse of being an English major, a teacher, or just a big dork, I'm not sure which. But "hopefully" is one of the words that is most consistently misused in our language, and it's the one that bothers me the least. I know I used it incorrectly up there, and I just don't care. For what it's worth: hopefully is an adverb, meaning to do something with hope. Like, for example, I walked hopefully toward the beautiful Thai girl at the end of the bar. It's interesting that of the 3 sources of definitions provided on dictionary.com, 2 of them think that my usage up there in the previous paragraph is just fine; the 3rd offers a brief commentary on why it is still unacceptable to many critics, even though its usage in this way is extremely popular and widespread. I love shit like that. English is nuts... and this is the language I've been charged with teaching... riiiight.
Well, I need to hit the hay. Long two weeks of travel and adventure starting tomorrow, and I need to be well rested. So hopefully, you'll be hearing from me soon. Until then, a good night to all, and to all a good night.
Today, I was looking at something online... I'm not even sure how I got onto this line of searching, honestly. Anyway, I ended up checking out a few of the other blogs written by westerners here in Korea. And wow. They really do bitch a lot. It's ridiculous. One guy posts like 3 or 4 times a day, picking up news articles that are even remotely critical of any Western presence here in Korea. I mean, sure, there are probably xenophobes here just like any other society. Although I'd venture a guess (based on my very limited experience) that they are less numerous and less vocal than their American counterparts. I'm not going to spend a lot of time talking about this, mostly because I'm sure he has a very good reason for writing what he does... but also because I don't want to dwell on an unpleasant aspect of my life here. I mean, is my life here perfect? Of course not! But is it absolutely satisfactory? Hell yeah it is... I dunno. Some people aren't content unless they're pissed about something.
And the thing is, there are (probably a lot of) Koreans who don't enjoy the presence of so many Westerners in their country. I'm sure that lots of them, especially the ones who live near American army bases and have to deal with GI's out drinking and chatting up their girlfriends and daughters... well, not to denigrate our brave servicemen, but I hung out with a bunch of them at a bar in Seoul a few weeks ago and let's just say, I can imagine there are some feelings of resentment. But the vast majority of Koreans that I've met have been exceptionally kind, generous and helpful. At least, to the extent that they can be with the language barrier... you know. And also... I mean, hello! It's an entirely different culture; different worldview; different mores. I think the close proximity to American/Western culture in a number of areas (technology, education, bureaucracy) gives us a false sense of security in our knowledge about how Koreans view us and their world, when in reality it's extremely unfair of us to make any kind of judgment at all about the way in which they comport themselves, be it in daily life, the politics, or the media. It's ridiculous for us to bitch about their culture and say they're being unfair or confrontational to Westerners, or even merely xenophobic; it's ridiculous for us to make any kind of judgment at all based on our preconceptions of how people should behave in any specific arena. That's my two cents. I said I wouldn't get into it; I just couldn't help myself. Thanks for bearing with me.
I'm leaving late tomorrow night for Thailand. I'm packing light, which means no laptop for the next couple weeks. If I get access to internet while I'm away, I'll try to drop an update or two when I can; hopefully when I get back I'll have lots of pictures to share. Just a forewarning that new posts might be hard to come by till the end of January.
You know, normally I'm a stickler for grammar. Not so much to the point of correcting people, or even using correct grammar; I just notice it constantly. The curse of being an English major, a teacher, or just a big dork, I'm not sure which. But "hopefully" is one of the words that is most consistently misused in our language, and it's the one that bothers me the least. I know I used it incorrectly up there, and I just don't care. For what it's worth: hopefully is an adverb, meaning to do something with hope. Like, for example, I walked hopefully toward the beautiful Thai girl at the end of the bar. It's interesting that of the 3 sources of definitions provided on dictionary.com, 2 of them think that my usage up there in the previous paragraph is just fine; the 3rd offers a brief commentary on why it is still unacceptable to many critics, even though its usage in this way is extremely popular and widespread. I love shit like that. English is nuts... and this is the language I've been charged with teaching... riiiight.
Well, I need to hit the hay. Long two weeks of travel and adventure starting tomorrow, and I need to be well rested. So hopefully, you'll be hearing from me soon. Until then, a good night to all, and to all a good night.
Monday, January 12, 2009
5 days till I leave for Thailand!
I know it's been a while, so thank you, constant Readers, for sticking with me through the dry patches and coming back for more.
I've done 6 days of English camp now, and it's going really well. We did 3 layers of paper mache, finishing the last one today. Now I'm giving them a couple more days to dry and then it's on to painting! Also, tomorrow is no-bake cookie day, so that's pretty exciting. For me, at least. I told the kids today, and they didn't really seem all that into it, for some reason. Ah well, they have to do it. And I think once they get their grubby little hands on some chocolatey oatmealy goodness, they'll be a little happier about it. They'd better be.
We also did some hand-clapping games today. The girls really enjoyed it; the boys not so much. Pretty much as I expected... but the boys really got into the paper airplane game, so I gotta spread the joy a bit, right? I'm also looking forward to the webcam conversation we're going to have with Jill's neice. She's already done this a few times for Jill's camp, so she's more or less a pro at this point. I'm just going to have my kids ask her some questions (just basic get to know you kinda stuff) that we've been practicing during camp. And uh, yeah... we'll see how it goes!
I got pretty toasted yesterday. I was just sitting at my house with nothin to do... looking outside at the frigid barren landscape that is a small town in winter, and I decided to make a run for the convenience store down the street to pick up some beer and soju. Soju, in case you've forgotten, is a sweet Korean liquor that is sold in little glass bottles that probably totals 6-7 shots. I'm not sure what the alcohol percentage is, but I'd guess it's like 40 proof. Just a complete shot in the dark, there, but you get the idea. It's not like, vodka strong or anything, but still has that liquor-y taste. I went out to dinner with my co-workers from the Global Center last week, and they introduced me to the wonder that is, as Emily calls it, so-juice. Basically, you take a shot of soju, poor it in a glass, and add beer. It doesn't really sound that good, even now, but you have to keep in mind that "beer" in Korea is generally really lite, highly-carbonated, and has a weird kind of citrus freshness to it... so that adding soju makes this kind of gestalt alcoholic beverage which is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Like, I dunno, the GoBots. So anyway, I drank one bottle of soju and one 1.6 liter bottle of beer. Now, keep in mind that I haven't been drinking much for the past month or so... but within about 2 hours, I was pretty silly. I had a really nice conversation with Dr. Monroe -- the associate dean of the Honors College in Houston -- finished drinking around 6~, and then apparently decided to make some rice for dinner. I got as far as putting it into the rice cooker and hitting go. Then, evidently, I passed out. I woke up around midnight, thoroughly confused as to what time it was, and saw the rice cooker blinking at me from the kitchen. This perplexed me even further. I went to see why this little blinking red light had intruded on my sleep, and to my surprise, found hot steamy rice all ready to be enjoyed. I thanked my drunk self for having the foresight to prepare this delicious meal, heated up a bag of curry and vegetables, and had a wonderful late dinner. Then I drank a boatload of water (I just cracked myself up with that one -- how do you measure a boatload of water and live to report the total?) and went back to sleepy-land, where I spent the next 7 hours as happy as a clam.
I felt great this morning. Midnight curry and rice makes a great hangover prevention, I've decided.
Another perplexing thing that's going on right now: What the hell is up with the NFL playoffs? The Eagles and Cardinals? Really...? The Mannings got beat like a redheaded stepchild. A rookie quarterback playing in the AFC Championship game. After watching Tennessee, Miami, and Indy get rolled in the first two rounds, I bet the Patriots are really pissed they didn't even get a chance to play. Sorry Adam. And getting beat by the Chargers, again? Sorry Rick. Of course, who am I to talk, right? The Bears had a shot, and played themselves right out of a playoff spot, so... this season has just been weird. And college football too. There was a great article on ESPN claiming that Utah is the undisputed national champion. I can't argue. They were the only undefeated team in the country. They beat Alabama. Florida beat Alabama and they got to play in the BCS title game... Utah beat them and they got to go home and watch Florida get crowned the champions -- it makes absolutely no sense... I hope Obama signs some sort of executive order abolishing this nonsense. Would a playoff really be that hard to set up? I mean, every other college sport has one; every other division of college football has one.
Here's my idea. Let's axe about 5 bowls that nobody cares about anyway... um, International Bowl anyone? Does Toronto really care about having an American college football game played there? Yeah, I didn't think so. Let's force the Big Televen and the Pac 10 to hold a championship game to put everyone on an equal footing. The 6 major conference champs get automatic bids; the highest ranked "non-BCS" school gets an automatic bid; there is one at large chosen with the condition that any unbeaten team (if not the highest-ranked non-BCS team) is guaranteed a spot. If there are none, then the highest ranked school who didn't win their conference gets in. The 1st round pits these four teams against each other at the 4 major bowls: Fiesta, Sugar, Orange, and Rose. This allows the bowls to (largely) maintain their conference affiliations, if they so chose. Then we have a plus-3 system; the winners move on to play each other in a national semifinal the next week and those winners get a shot at the national title. The plus-3 games would rotate bowl sites much like the BCS title game does now. Or, they could choose warm-weather cities to host these games like they choose Super Bowl sites.
Now, I realize that there are objections. 1) Players, fans and alumni wouldn't travel to all 3 bowl games; or would find it difficult to travel. Um, March Madness? Trust me, they'll make it. 2)This would drag the season out even longer than it is, stretching into the spring semester and affecting the student-athletes grades and whatnot. Now, if you tell me that (most of) these athletes are doing this for the opportunity to better themselves through higher education and not for a shot at millions of dollars in the NFL, I'll laugh in your face. Besides, basketball runs for 5 months and nobody bitches about that. 3) Also, I realize that trying to axe some of the less-successful earlier bowl games and move everything up a week or so would be almost impossible. Especially for say, the Rose Bowl which probably wouldn't give up its New Years Day game for anything on the planet. This one I haven't figured out yet. Any suggestions or concerns would be welcome.
I've done 6 days of English camp now, and it's going really well. We did 3 layers of paper mache, finishing the last one today. Now I'm giving them a couple more days to dry and then it's on to painting! Also, tomorrow is no-bake cookie day, so that's pretty exciting. For me, at least. I told the kids today, and they didn't really seem all that into it, for some reason. Ah well, they have to do it. And I think once they get their grubby little hands on some chocolatey oatmealy goodness, they'll be a little happier about it. They'd better be.
We also did some hand-clapping games today. The girls really enjoyed it; the boys not so much. Pretty much as I expected... but the boys really got into the paper airplane game, so I gotta spread the joy a bit, right? I'm also looking forward to the webcam conversation we're going to have with Jill's neice. She's already done this a few times for Jill's camp, so she's more or less a pro at this point. I'm just going to have my kids ask her some questions (just basic get to know you kinda stuff) that we've been practicing during camp. And uh, yeah... we'll see how it goes!
I got pretty toasted yesterday. I was just sitting at my house with nothin to do... looking outside at the frigid barren landscape that is a small town in winter, and I decided to make a run for the convenience store down the street to pick up some beer and soju. Soju, in case you've forgotten, is a sweet Korean liquor that is sold in little glass bottles that probably totals 6-7 shots. I'm not sure what the alcohol percentage is, but I'd guess it's like 40 proof. Just a complete shot in the dark, there, but you get the idea. It's not like, vodka strong or anything, but still has that liquor-y taste. I went out to dinner with my co-workers from the Global Center last week, and they introduced me to the wonder that is, as Emily calls it, so-juice. Basically, you take a shot of soju, poor it in a glass, and add beer. It doesn't really sound that good, even now, but you have to keep in mind that "beer" in Korea is generally really lite, highly-carbonated, and has a weird kind of citrus freshness to it... so that adding soju makes this kind of gestalt alcoholic beverage which is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Like, I dunno, the GoBots. So anyway, I drank one bottle of soju and one 1.6 liter bottle of beer. Now, keep in mind that I haven't been drinking much for the past month or so... but within about 2 hours, I was pretty silly. I had a really nice conversation with Dr. Monroe -- the associate dean of the Honors College in Houston -- finished drinking around 6~, and then apparently decided to make some rice for dinner. I got as far as putting it into the rice cooker and hitting go. Then, evidently, I passed out. I woke up around midnight, thoroughly confused as to what time it was, and saw the rice cooker blinking at me from the kitchen. This perplexed me even further. I went to see why this little blinking red light had intruded on my sleep, and to my surprise, found hot steamy rice all ready to be enjoyed. I thanked my drunk self for having the foresight to prepare this delicious meal, heated up a bag of curry and vegetables, and had a wonderful late dinner. Then I drank a boatload of water (I just cracked myself up with that one -- how do you measure a boatload of water and live to report the total?) and went back to sleepy-land, where I spent the next 7 hours as happy as a clam.
I felt great this morning. Midnight curry and rice makes a great hangover prevention, I've decided.
Another perplexing thing that's going on right now: What the hell is up with the NFL playoffs? The Eagles and Cardinals? Really...? The Mannings got beat like a redheaded stepchild. A rookie quarterback playing in the AFC Championship game. After watching Tennessee, Miami, and Indy get rolled in the first two rounds, I bet the Patriots are really pissed they didn't even get a chance to play. Sorry Adam. And getting beat by the Chargers, again? Sorry Rick. Of course, who am I to talk, right? The Bears had a shot, and played themselves right out of a playoff spot, so... this season has just been weird. And college football too. There was a great article on ESPN claiming that Utah is the undisputed national champion. I can't argue. They were the only undefeated team in the country. They beat Alabama. Florida beat Alabama and they got to play in the BCS title game... Utah beat them and they got to go home and watch Florida get crowned the champions -- it makes absolutely no sense... I hope Obama signs some sort of executive order abolishing this nonsense. Would a playoff really be that hard to set up? I mean, every other college sport has one; every other division of college football has one.
Here's my idea. Let's axe about 5 bowls that nobody cares about anyway... um, International Bowl anyone? Does Toronto really care about having an American college football game played there? Yeah, I didn't think so. Let's force the Big Televen and the Pac 10 to hold a championship game to put everyone on an equal footing. The 6 major conference champs get automatic bids; the highest ranked "non-BCS" school gets an automatic bid; there is one at large chosen with the condition that any unbeaten team (if not the highest-ranked non-BCS team) is guaranteed a spot. If there are none, then the highest ranked school who didn't win their conference gets in. The 1st round pits these four teams against each other at the 4 major bowls: Fiesta, Sugar, Orange, and Rose. This allows the bowls to (largely) maintain their conference affiliations, if they so chose. Then we have a plus-3 system; the winners move on to play each other in a national semifinal the next week and those winners get a shot at the national title. The plus-3 games would rotate bowl sites much like the BCS title game does now. Or, they could choose warm-weather cities to host these games like they choose Super Bowl sites.
Now, I realize that there are objections. 1) Players, fans and alumni wouldn't travel to all 3 bowl games; or would find it difficult to travel. Um, March Madness? Trust me, they'll make it. 2)This would drag the season out even longer than it is, stretching into the spring semester and affecting the student-athletes grades and whatnot. Now, if you tell me that (most of) these athletes are doing this for the opportunity to better themselves through higher education and not for a shot at millions of dollars in the NFL, I'll laugh in your face. Besides, basketball runs for 5 months and nobody bitches about that. 3) Also, I realize that trying to axe some of the less-successful earlier bowl games and move everything up a week or so would be almost impossible. Especially for say, the Rose Bowl which probably wouldn't give up its New Years Day game for anything on the planet. This one I haven't figured out yet. Any suggestions or concerns would be welcome.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
My apartment is dirty and other conundrums...
Sometimes I feel like Spike in Notting Hill. Just complete despair about the cluttered state of my apartment, the dishes, and laundry, etc... When Hugh Grant or someone helpfully points out that "There never will be any clean clothes, unless you actually clean them," I just give a sheepish grin and think "Vicious circle..."
I mean, I have at least one excuse. The property manager guy stopped by a few days ago and pointed at the washing machine, said "Aniyo" and crossed his arms, which in Korean means "No." As in, I'm not supposed to use it. I'm not sure why. Clearly there's some sort of problem with it, but I have no idea what it might be. Problems with the water? Detergent shortage? Terrorism? I'm at a loss... and of course I'm incapable of asking him for how long, so I'm off washing clothes... indefinitely. I've got a couple more weeks worth of clothes, I guess. Well, not clean clothes, but clothes that don't smell too bad yet, at the very least. =)
I did paper mache for the first time today. Well, that's sort of a lie. I did it for the first time this weekend with Jill, in preparation for camp this week. We're making paper mache globes out of balloons and ... you know, paper mache. Newspaper strips and flour glue. Next week, after a few layers of flour-gummy paper have been applied, we'll paint them. Yes, this is Sean. What do you mean, what have I done with him?
When Jill and I practiced, it was really very easy. Each layer took about 15 minutes to apply, and then we used a hair dryer to speed up the drying process. So, naturally, I completely underestimated the time involved in getting 10 kids to finish the same amount of work. Also, I totally neglected to take into account the natural propensity for kids to take a blown-up balloon and uh, play with it. So during class today, I have them help me mix the flour into warm water to make glue. This goes fairly well. I then have them cut up newspapers into strips, which also goes fairly well. I'm feeling pretty cocky at this point. After all, how hard is it to control 7 and 8 year olds, anyway, right? Then I hand out balloons, and this is where the proverbial shit hits the fan. I've got kids blowing them up half-way, then letting go to watch them fly all over the room and hit other kids in the eye. Potentially. I've got kids dunking the balloons into the flour muck, for some inexplicable reason. I've got kids running into the hallway to play soccer with their balloons. I've even got two enterprising young souls that managed to find brooms to play hallway hockey! I mean, I was sorta impressed with their sudden motivation to clean. Till I found out the real purpose. Anyway...
I eventually got them all to sit down, balloons in hand, newspapers down to prevent too much mess. And before I can even begin to demonstrate the proper way to go about this project, which involves careful straining of excess water out of the paper to promote ... hell, I don't even know, but that's the way the internet told me to do it... before I can do that, I've got kids who are already about half-finished covering their balloons in soaking, dripping-flour-glue-all-over-the-floor newspaper. Chaos ensued. Finally I laid the smack down, started busting heads and screaming like a banshee. I instituted a reign of terror on that classroom that those poor kids had never dreamed of. There was an inquisition, burnings at the stake, I even beheaded a monarch and instituted a bastardized form of meritocracy in one misguided attempt at regaining control. But no, anarchy and mob rule was the order of the day, and I was merely an observer. I was Norway.
Long story short, the first step ended up turning out pretty well. I can't wait for phase 2! Whoo-ee! Tomorrow we're making paper airplanes. I've decided, as long as the inmates are running the asylum, they might as well build themselves a military presence. You know, to ward off invasion and inspire delusions of grandeur that will eventually lead to a misguided attempt to conquer Russia over land, probably just before winter.
Another fun fact: apparently, if you're a foreigner living in Korea on an E2 Visa, which is the teaching visa upon which my employment is based, there are some restrictions on leaving the country. Well, that's not entirely accurate; it's not that you can't leave. They've got no problem with that. It's just that if you decide to venture abroad, you need to purchase a "re-entry visa" prior to leaving. You can (Yes, you can) get back in without it. You just can't work anymore. Your E2 is immediately cancelled. Good thing I found out today and not say... a few weeks from now when I tried to re-enter the country, right? Whew! Crisis averted, I guess. However, this re-entry visa (I got the multiple re-entry, in case I feel like travelling again this year) costs like 50,000 Won, which if I remember correctly is about the same price as the E2 visa cost in the first place. Quite a racket they've got here, I tells ya. But that's still preferable to losing my job entirely, so... yeah. There's that.
There's that. And that, as they say, is there. ... they do say that, ya know.
I mean, I have at least one excuse. The property manager guy stopped by a few days ago and pointed at the washing machine, said "Aniyo" and crossed his arms, which in Korean means "No." As in, I'm not supposed to use it. I'm not sure why. Clearly there's some sort of problem with it, but I have no idea what it might be. Problems with the water? Detergent shortage? Terrorism? I'm at a loss... and of course I'm incapable of asking him for how long, so I'm off washing clothes... indefinitely. I've got a couple more weeks worth of clothes, I guess. Well, not clean clothes, but clothes that don't smell too bad yet, at the very least. =)
I did paper mache for the first time today. Well, that's sort of a lie. I did it for the first time this weekend with Jill, in preparation for camp this week. We're making paper mache globes out of balloons and ... you know, paper mache. Newspaper strips and flour glue. Next week, after a few layers of flour-gummy paper have been applied, we'll paint them. Yes, this is Sean. What do you mean, what have I done with him?
When Jill and I practiced, it was really very easy. Each layer took about 15 minutes to apply, and then we used a hair dryer to speed up the drying process. So, naturally, I completely underestimated the time involved in getting 10 kids to finish the same amount of work. Also, I totally neglected to take into account the natural propensity for kids to take a blown-up balloon and uh, play with it. So during class today, I have them help me mix the flour into warm water to make glue. This goes fairly well. I then have them cut up newspapers into strips, which also goes fairly well. I'm feeling pretty cocky at this point. After all, how hard is it to control 7 and 8 year olds, anyway, right? Then I hand out balloons, and this is where the proverbial shit hits the fan. I've got kids blowing them up half-way, then letting go to watch them fly all over the room and hit other kids in the eye. Potentially. I've got kids dunking the balloons into the flour muck, for some inexplicable reason. I've got kids running into the hallway to play soccer with their balloons. I've even got two enterprising young souls that managed to find brooms to play hallway hockey! I mean, I was sorta impressed with their sudden motivation to clean. Till I found out the real purpose. Anyway...
I eventually got them all to sit down, balloons in hand, newspapers down to prevent too much mess. And before I can even begin to demonstrate the proper way to go about this project, which involves careful straining of excess water out of the paper to promote ... hell, I don't even know, but that's the way the internet told me to do it... before I can do that, I've got kids who are already about half-finished covering their balloons in soaking, dripping-flour-glue-all-over-the-floor newspaper. Chaos ensued. Finally I laid the smack down, started busting heads and screaming like a banshee. I instituted a reign of terror on that classroom that those poor kids had never dreamed of. There was an inquisition, burnings at the stake, I even beheaded a monarch and instituted a bastardized form of meritocracy in one misguided attempt at regaining control. But no, anarchy and mob rule was the order of the day, and I was merely an observer. I was Norway.
Long story short, the first step ended up turning out pretty well. I can't wait for phase 2! Whoo-ee! Tomorrow we're making paper airplanes. I've decided, as long as the inmates are running the asylum, they might as well build themselves a military presence. You know, to ward off invasion and inspire delusions of grandeur that will eventually lead to a misguided attempt to conquer Russia over land, probably just before winter.
Another fun fact: apparently, if you're a foreigner living in Korea on an E2 Visa, which is the teaching visa upon which my employment is based, there are some restrictions on leaving the country. Well, that's not entirely accurate; it's not that you can't leave. They've got no problem with that. It's just that if you decide to venture abroad, you need to purchase a "re-entry visa" prior to leaving. You can (Yes, you can) get back in without it. You just can't work anymore. Your E2 is immediately cancelled. Good thing I found out today and not say... a few weeks from now when I tried to re-enter the country, right? Whew! Crisis averted, I guess. However, this re-entry visa (I got the multiple re-entry, in case I feel like travelling again this year) costs like 50,000 Won, which if I remember correctly is about the same price as the E2 visa cost in the first place. Quite a racket they've got here, I tells ya. But that's still preferable to losing my job entirely, so... yeah. There's that.
There's that. And that, as they say, is there. ... they do say that, ya know.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Last day of 2008
What a year it's been, friends... I started the year riding high on a wave of refinances and appraisals and GFE's and TIL's and LOX's, living in a condo in downtown Chicago. I had an awesome little orange car, a pool on my rooftop, a crazy Italian neighbor, a job I didn't much like... and now, I'm sitting in a 1-bedroom apartment in Janghowon, South Korea, thinking about games to play with 7 year olds and downloading flashcards of animals online. It's a crazy life, I tell ya.
I can't believe it's been almost a week since I last blogged. Sorry about the delay! Although, no one commented on the last actual post, so maybe none of you noticed. The holidays are always crazy busy anyway, so maybe I can get away with not being johnny-on-the-spot with the blogging this week. =)
Since that time, let's see. I hung out with Jill and we made no-bake oatmeal cookies. This is about the easiest cookie in history to make, and I highly recommend it! Just google no-bake oatmeal cookies and go to town. Careful with the sugar, though: ours were powerful sweet.
I watched Religulous, Bill Maher's new documentary. It's really good. He's only a little snarky. Well, no, he's only a little more snarky than he needs to be. I mean, some of the people he dishes it out to obviously can't handle it, and therefore probably don't deserve it. It's not really asking too much for Christians to be able to discuss their faith and the Bible... but sometimes, it is. Sad but true. I think he maybe crosses the line a few times, but for the most part I enjoyed it.
I got sick again. Not just your average run-of-the-mill cold this time, but Sick! With a capital "S." Body aches, fever, sinus headaches, all that fun junk. Apparently, when you get that kind of sick in Korea, you go to the hospital. So that's what I did yesterday! Boy howdy... So, you go to the hospital, which so far as I can tell here is roughly equivalent to our "clinic." You wait for a while -- I think my wait time was about 40 minutes. You read the names on the TV of all the people who are in front of you, just to amuse yourself. You comment that most of the people's last names are Choe or Kim. You go to the examination room. The doctor asks what your symptoms are (I presume, anyway) and you mime them, maybe producing a real cough or two. He takes your temperature. He makes you say "Ah..." and looks at your throat. He puts on his handy-dandy stethoscope and listens to you breathe. He says, "Injection" and smiles. You say, "Urh?" He stands up and motions to you to follow. You do. He leads you down the hall and points through a door and says "Injection Room." (Yes, they have a whole room where they do nothing but shots.) He leaves. The nurse leads you to a little table and motions pulling her pants down a little in the back. You realize you're about to get a shot in the butt in a Korean injection room thing. You panic. She grabs your shoulder and forcibly turns you around to face this little table, lifts up the back of your shirt a bit and starts rubbing some little cold pack around a spot just below your kidney. You panic a little harder. It gets numb. You hold your breath, waiting for the bite of the needle. She says, "OK" and throws the (miraculously already-empty) syringe in the trash. You button up, wipe your hands on your pants, pay the desk 3900 Won (~$3), get a prescription for something or other and go across the hall to the pharmacy. Crisis averted.
At the pharmacy, you get served a hot drink in a little glass bottle. Not sure what it was, but the word jujube springs to mind, for some reason. If anyone cares to shed a little light on this, feel free, but I'm feeling too lazy to google it right now. :) Sorry. Then you get a 3-day supply of cough medicine and 9 packets of 7 pills each. To be taken 3 times a day, with the cough medicine.
You go home, and attempt to figure out what these pills are. The internet fails you. You eat them anyway. You become woozy, light-headed, and strangely euphoric. A sense of peace settles over your muscles, your fever abates, your sinuses clear. Your life takes on meaning again. You eat, drink plenty of water, sleep. You wake up with the giddy realization that you get 3 doses of happy pills today. You watch college bowl games on the internet, cook eggs and sausage, eat pills. You watch college football on the internet. You eat leftover spaghetti, eat pills. You ... lose track of time. You realize it's 5:30 and you have to meet someone at 6. You notice that you smell, because you haven't showered all day. You also notice that since you haven't had to teach since last Wednesday, you desperately need to shave. You panic. You make it on time. You walk home at 7:30 and notice that it's friggin freezing outside. You get home, drink plenty of water, eat more leftover spaghetti, eat pills. You set an alarm to wake you at 2AM so you can watch the UH bowl game on the internet. You blog.
Please note, your experience may differ slightly from the one described above, but the main points should stay roughly the same.
So yeah -- it's almost 10pm here and I'm beat. These pills are just great. I'm going to catch a few hours sleep before waking up to watch my Coogs lay their vengeance upon the unsuspecting souls of the much-vilified Air Force Academy. I mean really, who could possibly root for the Air Force? What have they ever done for us, anyway?
And when I wake up to watch that game, it will already be 2009 here. Although the game I'll be watching live is taking place at 11AM central standard time on December 31st, 2008. I'll be watching from next year! Of course, I'll already know who wins, being in the future and all, but it'll still be fun to see how it all plays out. =Þ
And finally... my New Year's Resolution. I don't really believe in these things, it turns out, but it feels like the right thing to do. So, without further ado, I resolve to visit 5 new countries in 2009. =) I'm getting a headstart on that one, actually! Because as I had forgotten until right this second, at some point today in my medicine-induced haze I booked a flight to Thailand in January! So, in a few weeks I'll have one down and only four more to go. I further resolve to finish at least the first level of the Rosetta Stone courses I've gotten so far. These include Korean, French, German, Portuguese, Italian, Russian, Mandarin Chinese, and Arabic. I mean, I'm always saying (mostly to myself, but I do say it a lot) that I'm good at languages. Why screw around? I should just start trying to learn all these and see if that's really true or just something I tell myself to make me feel good. I'll keep you posted on my progress! So those are my resolutions -- see more of the world and learn to communicate better! Very noble, no? No bull!
Ha... get it? Noble? No bull? Yeah... I'm funny.
I can't believe it's been almost a week since I last blogged. Sorry about the delay! Although, no one commented on the last actual post, so maybe none of you noticed. The holidays are always crazy busy anyway, so maybe I can get away with not being johnny-on-the-spot with the blogging this week. =)
Since that time, let's see. I hung out with Jill and we made no-bake oatmeal cookies. This is about the easiest cookie in history to make, and I highly recommend it! Just google no-bake oatmeal cookies and go to town. Careful with the sugar, though: ours were powerful sweet.
I watched Religulous, Bill Maher's new documentary. It's really good. He's only a little snarky. Well, no, he's only a little more snarky than he needs to be. I mean, some of the people he dishes it out to obviously can't handle it, and therefore probably don't deserve it. It's not really asking too much for Christians to be able to discuss their faith and the Bible... but sometimes, it is. Sad but true. I think he maybe crosses the line a few times, but for the most part I enjoyed it.
I got sick again. Not just your average run-of-the-mill cold this time, but Sick! With a capital "S." Body aches, fever, sinus headaches, all that fun junk. Apparently, when you get that kind of sick in Korea, you go to the hospital. So that's what I did yesterday! Boy howdy... So, you go to the hospital, which so far as I can tell here is roughly equivalent to our "clinic." You wait for a while -- I think my wait time was about 40 minutes. You read the names on the TV of all the people who are in front of you, just to amuse yourself. You comment that most of the people's last names are Choe or Kim. You go to the examination room. The doctor asks what your symptoms are (I presume, anyway) and you mime them, maybe producing a real cough or two. He takes your temperature. He makes you say "Ah..." and looks at your throat. He puts on his handy-dandy stethoscope and listens to you breathe. He says, "Injection" and smiles. You say, "Urh?" He stands up and motions to you to follow. You do. He leads you down the hall and points through a door and says "Injection Room." (Yes, they have a whole room where they do nothing but shots.) He leaves. The nurse leads you to a little table and motions pulling her pants down a little in the back. You realize you're about to get a shot in the butt in a Korean injection room thing. You panic. She grabs your shoulder and forcibly turns you around to face this little table, lifts up the back of your shirt a bit and starts rubbing some little cold pack around a spot just below your kidney. You panic a little harder. It gets numb. You hold your breath, waiting for the bite of the needle. She says, "OK" and throws the (miraculously already-empty) syringe in the trash. You button up, wipe your hands on your pants, pay the desk 3900 Won (~$3), get a prescription for something or other and go across the hall to the pharmacy. Crisis averted.
At the pharmacy, you get served a hot drink in a little glass bottle. Not sure what it was, but the word jujube springs to mind, for some reason. If anyone cares to shed a little light on this, feel free, but I'm feeling too lazy to google it right now. :) Sorry. Then you get a 3-day supply of cough medicine and 9 packets of 7 pills each. To be taken 3 times a day, with the cough medicine.
You go home, and attempt to figure out what these pills are. The internet fails you. You eat them anyway. You become woozy, light-headed, and strangely euphoric. A sense of peace settles over your muscles, your fever abates, your sinuses clear. Your life takes on meaning again. You eat, drink plenty of water, sleep. You wake up with the giddy realization that you get 3 doses of happy pills today. You watch college bowl games on the internet, cook eggs and sausage, eat pills. You watch college football on the internet. You eat leftover spaghetti, eat pills. You ... lose track of time. You realize it's 5:30 and you have to meet someone at 6. You notice that you smell, because you haven't showered all day. You also notice that since you haven't had to teach since last Wednesday, you desperately need to shave. You panic. You make it on time. You walk home at 7:30 and notice that it's friggin freezing outside. You get home, drink plenty of water, eat more leftover spaghetti, eat pills. You set an alarm to wake you at 2AM so you can watch the UH bowl game on the internet. You blog.
Please note, your experience may differ slightly from the one described above, but the main points should stay roughly the same.
So yeah -- it's almost 10pm here and I'm beat. These pills are just great. I'm going to catch a few hours sleep before waking up to watch my Coogs lay their vengeance upon the unsuspecting souls of the much-vilified Air Force Academy. I mean really, who could possibly root for the Air Force? What have they ever done for us, anyway?
And when I wake up to watch that game, it will already be 2009 here. Although the game I'll be watching live is taking place at 11AM central standard time on December 31st, 2008. I'll be watching from next year! Of course, I'll already know who wins, being in the future and all, but it'll still be fun to see how it all plays out. =Þ
And finally... my New Year's Resolution. I don't really believe in these things, it turns out, but it feels like the right thing to do. So, without further ado, I resolve to visit 5 new countries in 2009. =) I'm getting a headstart on that one, actually! Because as I had forgotten until right this second, at some point today in my medicine-induced haze I booked a flight to Thailand in January! So, in a few weeks I'll have one down and only four more to go. I further resolve to finish at least the first level of the Rosetta Stone courses I've gotten so far. These include Korean, French, German, Portuguese, Italian, Russian, Mandarin Chinese, and Arabic. I mean, I'm always saying (mostly to myself, but I do say it a lot) that I'm good at languages. Why screw around? I should just start trying to learn all these and see if that's really true or just something I tell myself to make me feel good. I'll keep you posted on my progress! So those are my resolutions -- see more of the world and learn to communicate better! Very noble, no? No bull!
Ha... get it? Noble? No bull? Yeah... I'm funny.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
A man, a plan, and a bunch of trenchcoats sewn together
Since time immemorial, man has always wanted to fly like a bird, right? Or at least, you know, fall slower than usual. Check this guy out. He was trying to prove how well his "parachute-coat" worked. He ended up proving Newton was right. Allow me to present a guy jumping off the Eiffel Tower. If you're in a rush, just skip ahead to 1:15.
I mean, yeah. I lol'ed. It's probably mean or something, but jesus that's funny.
I mean, yeah. I lol'ed. It's probably mean or something, but jesus that's funny.
My bottom hurts
Because I fell on it, a lot, today. Like, a whole helluva lot. Like, a metric dozen times. =Þ
I went snowboarding today! It was a lot of fun... but here's some things I learned (both good and bad) about snowboarding:
You're absolutely right... the S-curvy thing worked exactly once, not twice... =Þ
There's one other thing I wanted to mention today. I'm getting absolutely owned in my football bowl pick em' group. I might as well be named Toby. Apparently, being out of the country for the last month of the regular season and not actually watching any of the games since the beginning of November is a terrible way to go about picking the winners of all the bowl games. I actually did pretty well last year -- 2nd in the group, if I'm not mistaken. And I've rocked the last two years at March Madness brackets! Last year, not only did I win my group in an avalanche (it was too brutal of a whooping to be called merely a landslide), I finished in the top 13,000 on espn.com. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Oooooh, top 13,000... Whoo-ee", right? But that's out of more than 2MILLION contestants. Which, if I'm not mistaken, puts me ahead of about 99.3% of those 2 MILLION people. Yes, I am capitalizing that word on purpose. Why do you ask?
I'm making a metric assload of spaghetti tomorrow... I finally went to the grocery store and bought a bunch of food... and one of the pleasant surprises was how cheap it is to have the deli grind up meat fresh for me. Cheap is a relative thing, here... but unexpectedly so, anyway. So I bought an onion, some garlic, some ground pork, some noodles and a jar of Classico spaghetti sauce, just like you get at the Mack's Big Star! Or, you know, Krogers. Um, yeah -- those of you who don't know me were probably getting a little excited to hear my homemade spaghetti sauce recipe. Well, I learned that from my Mom, and I'm not sharing it here... but I'll give you hint: substitute Prego for Classico and you're off to a good start. ;) Ah, I love ya, Mom... and I can't wait to try your spaghetti with the new secret ingredient!
OK -- I think it's time to watch a movie and go to bed. I just finished downloading "Run Fatboy Run" -- it's by the same guys who did "Shaun of the Dead" and "Hot Fuzz!" I love these guys... Simon Pegg is the shizznit. I can't wait any longer, so I'm not going to write anymore. I mean, tonight. Not like, ever. You were scared. It's OK to admit it. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault...
I went snowboarding today! It was a lot of fun... but here's some things I learned (both good and bad) about snowboarding:
- It's really hard. It took me like 10 minutes to even be able to stand up on the damn thing.
- Once you do stand up, you fall over again immediately. And it's not like graceful falling either... more like a tree being chopped down. One instant you're nice and vertical, and the next you're no longer connected, physically, mentally, or otherwise, to the ground.
- Falling hurts. I weigh a lot more now (than I should, for one, but also) than I used to. I fall harder. That whole "the bigger they are..." thing, yeah... that's true.
- I actually can snowboard. I mean, I did it. It took about 10 times down before I made it without falling, but it happened. It was a pretty boring run, I'm sure... but it was safe and was kind of exhilarating.
- When you stop at the bottom, you can't keep doing the same thing you were doing to get yourself to stop. I mean, depending on your direction of travel... you either kinda stick your butt out and lift up your toes if you're facing forward or lean forward and lift up your heels if you're facing up the hill, right? Well, no matter which of those you're doing, after you come to a complete halt on a flat surface, that doesn't work as well. If you've ever seen a drunk chimpanzee fall over, you'll know what I'm talking about.
- Don't forget you're still walking on ice, the whole time. The 2nd worst fall I took wasn't even in the course of boarding. I was walking, for christ's sake. It was right after I got off the lift and I was walking over to sit down and strap my board on. Well, I hit a slippery patch and went down, hard, on my left side. The other major drawback here was that I was holding the board in that hand. So I slammed my fingers between hard snowboard material, whatever the hell that is, and ice. I've got some really pretty bruises already on my middle and ring fingers...
- Don't get cocky. After that safe, boring, mistake free trip down the hill... I thought I'd cut loose, kick it up a notch, raise the bar, or any other cliche you can think of. So I started really trying to do the S-curvy thing without slowing down too much. It worked. Briefly. Well, twice. I managed to complete one whole S shape before I got way outta control and started bouncing and flipping and spinning and peeing on myself. OK, I made that last one up, but it was a definite possibility... And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the worst fall of the day. That was the also the last fall of the day... because it around that time that a beer started to sound mouth-wateringly irresistibly good. So, I had a beer. Then I had another. Then I left. Then I came home and had another. Then I started yelling "Merry $*@#ing Christmas" out the window of my apartment. Then I started blogging.
You're absolutely right... the S-curvy thing worked exactly once, not twice... =Þ
There's one other thing I wanted to mention today. I'm getting absolutely owned in my football bowl pick em' group. I might as well be named Toby. Apparently, being out of the country for the last month of the regular season and not actually watching any of the games since the beginning of November is a terrible way to go about picking the winners of all the bowl games. I actually did pretty well last year -- 2nd in the group, if I'm not mistaken. And I've rocked the last two years at March Madness brackets! Last year, not only did I win my group in an avalanche (it was too brutal of a whooping to be called merely a landslide), I finished in the top 13,000 on espn.com. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Oooooh, top 13,000... Whoo-ee", right? But that's out of more than 2MILLION contestants. Which, if I'm not mistaken, puts me ahead of about 99.3% of those 2 MILLION people. Yes, I am capitalizing that word on purpose. Why do you ask?
I'm making a metric assload of spaghetti tomorrow... I finally went to the grocery store and bought a bunch of food... and one of the pleasant surprises was how cheap it is to have the deli grind up meat fresh for me. Cheap is a relative thing, here... but unexpectedly so, anyway. So I bought an onion, some garlic, some ground pork, some noodles and a jar of Classico spaghetti sauce, just like you get at the Mack's Big Star! Or, you know, Krogers. Um, yeah -- those of you who don't know me were probably getting a little excited to hear my homemade spaghetti sauce recipe. Well, I learned that from my Mom, and I'm not sharing it here... but I'll give you hint: substitute Prego for Classico and you're off to a good start. ;) Ah, I love ya, Mom... and I can't wait to try your spaghetti with the new secret ingredient!
OK -- I think it's time to watch a movie and go to bed. I just finished downloading "Run Fatboy Run" -- it's by the same guys who did "Shaun of the Dead" and "Hot Fuzz!" I love these guys... Simon Pegg is the shizznit. I can't wait any longer, so I'm not going to write anymore. I mean, tonight. Not like, ever. You were scared. It's OK to admit it. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault...
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Tis the Season...
To be jolly? You know what makes me jolly? Liquor. You know what else? Being done with teaching for a while. And planning a January jaunt to Thailand. And alliteration. You know what makes me un-jolly? A few things. Here they are, in no particular order:
So, to counter, here are jollifying things in my life, again in no particular order:
- Being one metric fuck of a long way from home on Christmas
- Still having the traces of this Asian devil-sickness that I got 2+ weeks ago
- The weather being colder than a welldigger's ass
- Realizing that flights to Thailand are expensive as hell
- Not talking to Shan
- The ubiquitous brown (or maybe it's "Brown," with a capital?) sauce they put on things here. Not everything, and it's not truly ubiquitous, but it's been on several things I've eaten recently and I could certainly do without it.
- Missing my family... and my dog. :(
So, to counter, here are jollifying things in my life, again in no particular order:
- Going on a ski trip soon! I can't wait... even though the last time I went skiing I almost died. We can thank Mike Bridwell for that one -- trick skis, my ass. Those things are death rockets.
- Facebook -- old friends just pourin out of the woodwork! I love hearing from people I haven't seen or spoken to since college, or hell! in some cases, high school.
- This girl I'm tutoring. Her name is Min Kyeong, and she's just awesome. She's only in middle school, but her English is amazing! Like, better than some of the ESL students I had in college composition courses at UH. On the other hand, she did drop the "F" bomb on me while we were reading last night. I think my jaw hit the floor, and then I just laughed and laughed while she sat there blushing. Yep. I heard a 13-year-old Korean kid say "What the fuck?" Wha's up now?
- Charlie Brown Christmas special. I showed this to several of my classes, and I love it. Notice I used the word "I" there. They didn't get it at all, really... but I had a grand ole time. And some of the lines in there, I remembered, but had no idea they were from this movie! Lucy's priceless on her Xmas wish list: "I just want what I have coming to me. I just want my fair share." Love it.
- Couchsurfing. I mean, I realize accomodations in Thailand probably run like 6 seashells a night or something, but still, this thing is priceless! If you don't know what I'm talking about, go to couchsurfing.com and take a look around. Not only do you get to sleep for free in someone's house, but you usually get a local tour guide at the same time! It's just an awesome project... I stayed in Amsterdam for 8 days earlier this year, and didn't spend a dime on lodgings. Well, that's not entirely true. We did buy him some wine, bread and cheese, not to mention a scrumptious Chinese meal one night, but that was nothing in comparison to what we got. Just check it out. One caveat: you should probably be willing to return the favor and let people crash on your couch as well... it's only fair. :)
- Seth Rogen. I love this man. Superbad, Pineapple Express, Knocked Up, 40 Year Old Virgin... he's just a comedic genius. So let's all give a big hearty thank you to that tubby hairy Jew.
- Chocolate chip cookies. You got a problem with that?
- New friends... especially Bo Il (my co-teacher), Jill and Laura -- 2 girls in Icheon who are the bees' knees, funny and very helpful with classroom-y teach-y stuff.
- Old friends... I know I already said this and all, but it's really nice to hear from everyone back home, and know that you're all pining away for me, neglecting your health and crying yourselves to sleep at night. Please know that your devotion isn't going unnoticed. :)
- Losing weight. Yep, I'm feelin and lookin pretty good, if I do say so myself. And I do... Although this brings me to...
- French fries. I had my first honest-to-god french fries since I've been in Korea tonight. And ya know, I wasn't that impressed. I think they needed salt. But anyway, there's something excessively and perversely comforting about eating french fries... I mean, they've even got my name in them. I don't know. I'm weird.
- Da Bears! Still alive in the playoff hunt, believe it or not! Wish I could've seen that GB game, but even the ESPN gamecast had me doing little fisty-pumps at my desk and frightening the poor Korean women I work with. I'm not sure I could handle a full-on actual visual represenation of the game. I've evolved. I only need subtle verbal clues to picture the game in amazing 3D life-like mental projections on my inner ... um, wall? what do they show projections on? ... Screens. Yeah. I've evolved, alright. Bite me.
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