Japan and Back

Wake up at 6AM. Taxi 5 minutes to the bus terminal. Drink a coffee out of the coffee vending machine. Get on the bus. Little over an hour later I get off the bus in Busan, Gimhae Airport. Board the Busan Air flight, small airbus with 3 seats to each side. 50 minutes later I'm landing in Fukuoka, Japan. Like going Miami to Orlando.

Convert my green bills for some fat beige bills. Wonder where all my green bills went... check again... 1, 2, 5... just five pieces of paper. It's going to by tight.

Shuttle to domestic terminal. 20 meters to the subway. Down. Size up the kiosk and step to the screen. Where's the English button. Gotcha. Okay... F-something something-machi... don't see it. Hit a button, another button, another button, panic as people behind me are looking onward with disdain (only perceived...disdain does not exist in Japan). Bingo. Subway... show the ticket make my confused lost face and a man points to a train and says "Okay." Okay is international and transcends borders, languages, cultures... everyone knows okay. Okay is better than yes. Yes can mean I don't understand. Yes can mean I give up so go away. Yes can just be polite. Okay is always okay, it is the real yes.

Train, 9 stops... or maybe 6. The subway doesn't seem as nice as Seoul's. But this is not the capital. Walk out and up. Hit the stoplight turn right. Walk till I see the Yahoo Dome, home of the Softbank Seahawks one of Japan's greatest baseball teams. Notice a Gap near the Yahoo Dome and smile that I just had a visit with the Samways. To the Korean Consulate. Closed for lunch. Walk around the nice neighborhood surrounding the consulate. Beautiful houses, Mercedes, BMW, and Harley Davidson... and great gardens with wonderful trees. Police tell me no pictures as I snap one.

Kill an hour walking around the adjacent shopping complex to the Dome. Then to the Hilton hotel. Then back to the Consulate. Drop off my passport pay 4,500 yen... expensive. Lose one of my paper bills. "Come back on Monday at 10AM." So I got the weekend. Walk for 3 hours till I find a guest house.

Guest house is full. Pretty girl says don't take off my shoes... shoes go back on. Says she can call another guest house for me. She does, makes a reservation for me, and I walk 30 minutes. It's nice, people are nice. Explain I'll stay one night.. if it's nice I'll stay longer. She asks for me to tell her if there are any problems. I walk into a small room 3 meters square or so. 2 sets of bunk beds. It's what I want. Cheap, clean, comfortable, and dorm style allows meeting people.

.... TBC

A busy week

Gyeongju University is on a march to Globalization. The president is currently in Switzerland working to build bridges with universities to create exchange programs. She will then visit Italy. Here at the White House, a term of endearment toward the newly painted white dormitory that houses 18 of our 60 foreign professors, we held an intensive English camp to prepare 120 students for 3 months in the Philippines.

I've now mentioned FIU as a potential school with a vibrant multicultural community, and internationally recognized school of hospitality management. The focus of our school here is tourism. We shall see if this fruits.

Things were a bit crazy with the students living in the bottom two floors, dining in the basement/cafeteria, and studying on three floors. We survived as did they. A few came down with illness, or just flat out gave up and went home. Stressful learning a second language, about to leave home, a home that is foreigner cautious and many never leave there surroundings.

The professors and our "captain of the ship" gathered frequently. Shared coffee, and talked about this or that. Sometimes we talked about the future, the present, or philosophy. Other times we made jokes at the expense of each and all. Those who worked hardest slept for minutes at a time. It's a nice atmosphere. Management that listens, is concerned, and willing to help you achieve your goals.

In the down time I've explored more mountain bike trails. Found some trails with flow.. that can be biked up... as well as down. One of our colleagues and his wife are cooking dinner tonight, myself and another will join. This is the pace of things.

Hiked the mountain bike up the mountain across the street. Then rode her down. A colleague said it couldn't be done. It was a black, or double black diamond comparable to skiing. So i did. Nearly broke my leg. Walked over a couple ledges after that. Came down faster than I went up... Could have done it a couple times. Back at it tomorrow.

Also some pictures from the green tea experience in Jecheon with the Eomimo group I had been volunteering with since October last year.

Why drink green tea?

Korea, Japan, and China have a green tea culture. Korean green tea is soft. The leaves are smaller, milder, and the movements by in the tea ceremony are soft. The right hand represents positive energy, and the left hand negative energy. Thus the woman covers her left (negative) with her right hand... and the man does the opposite. Each hides their thumbs. We bow.

The tools are laid out before us. A washing bowl, three cups, three wooden saucers, the tea pot contraption, the green tea ceramic piece, the wooden spoon, the top holder, a white finely made cotton cloth, and a large silk fabric red on one side blue the other that can cover the little tea table. We cover the tea table with the red side up to protect everything from bad spirits and energy. (Like the Korean flag, everything is in balance).

We poor hot water into one of the dishes, and softly into each of the others. We are cleaning. We poor this out into a ceramic basin to the side of our tea table. Then we carefully wipe the cups, (hanna, duel, say, nei) Again (turn, wipe, turn, wipe).

Ready. Green tea jar top comes off, and onto the top holder (everything has a place.. everyone has a place). 2 small wooden spoonfuls, or was it three. Then the hot water. Now we prepare the tea cups. Using one hand, but not the other. Fingers belonging in certain positions, and gestures choreographed. My partner is a 7 year old boy. He is doing most the work as his mom clicks photos and keeps saying let the foreign teacher... Moms.

We finally get to drink at some point. And we drink. Tastes soft. Now the Tea Ceremony Master tells us how we should drink. Much gets lost in translation. But the first sip is to be slow. The second sip is to grasp the taste. One's face looking in a certain manner that says, "ahhh wonderful, and I reflect on my life as I've never tasted tea quite so good as this." Or that's what I got. And the third is hardcore one-shot. Maybe not her words exactly.

Later we talk to Christina. She explains that a long time ago the legislative elite drank tea together... particularly when somebody came to visit your home. It was a way to show hospitality (hospitality being very, very, very important). It was also a way to sit face to face with people of different ages (maybe classes). As one does not drink alcohol facing somebody of higher position, or greater age than oneself.

So the 7 year old and I drank our tea face to face. He couldn't do that if he was drinking soju.

Jecheon to pick up the bikes.

I took the bus to Deagu... transfered and off I went to Jecheon on Friday. Met Matt at 7:30 for a morning ride. Introduced to his playground. A stage to jump, an elevated horseshoe shaped bench... and over rolling tombs to get there.

After participating in a traditional green tea ceremony I managed to get my bikes to the Bus Terminal. I was able to put them under the bus in storage... with my 50lbs backpack... what a pain. Then transfer buses walking one terminal to another... with my 50lbs backpack... what a pain. Then walking from the bus terminal to the Kei Suk Sa (3-5km) pushing two bikes... with my 50lbs backpack... then up the hill. the same hill people have taken taxis from across the street to avoid walking. The same hill ol' Henri stops twice to rest. Albeit he is 64, and I'm half his age. It's done. Bikes are in the basement. I've got one more method of diversion at my ready. Technically more... mountain riding, down-hilling, city cruises... possibly intercity cruises.

Pictures of me in a grooms Hanbok to come... for now the ride.

Cooking without butter

Staying with Matt and Tristan, having proper kitchens, reminded me the pleasures of cooking. I haven't put bacon into a pan, or had a pad for that matter in two years. Hit Home Plus. Three hours later I'm having American beef with mushrooms and onions in a red wine sauce... and an egg for good measure. Spices are somewhat limited. Salt and black pepper. Not even ground pepper. And everything gets the olive oil treatment having no butter. Now my 1o cans of tuna and 3 jars of peanut butter are looking anxious about their job security.

Finished the second week of teaching. Classes are going well. A mixed coffee was readied with a cup at my computer station in the classroom. Either this is the way teachers are treated, or I benefited from someone's absent mindedness. I think it may be the former. I remember buying coffees, and now they are provided. I remember carrying out the trash, and now it is handled. I recall straightening, tidying, and cleaning on hand and knee... now there are staff for that. There is also free time.

Free time is a bless to some, and others a curse. I've found time, as noted, to run. I walk the city frequently and at great length with camera in hand. I hope to have my mountain bikes and motorbikes here in the next week.

Shortly I'm heading to Jecheon to volunteer at the Eomimo "Green Tea Experience" on Saturday. I hope to hit the mountains for a sunrise bike ride with Matt. I'd also like to take a an afternoon ride to the lake. Should be a fine weekend. Then, I'll come home and cook something in oil on Sunday.

Running up Hill

I just finished my run. Lungs don't feel so good tonight. Throat is narrow and dry. Cigarettes are too cheap in this country.

The dormitory stays midway up a mountain from a main road. Behind us is a temple, and housing for the monks. Just behind the temple is a pine forest with a couple temples scattered around the various hill top passes. This is our backyard.

I walk to the bottom of the hill and run up. I walk back down, and jog up. I walk back down and sprint sections, then huff and puff... feeling like i'm in wrestling practice. This time nobody yelling, no clocks, or watches. I stop to talk to a young woman monk. She's pretty with a shaved head, and over-sized grey monk uniform. She has very youthful smile and clean skin. She motions for me to take off my ear buds... i pop one out. "Where are you from?" "Miami.... USA" "Why are you here?" I thought of a thousand better answers after I answered. "Job." "How long are you here?" She is nice and seems interested. We continue, then I ask her name... "You know I'm a Buhdist Nun." "What do I call a Buddhist Nun?" "Jeong-sus Nim... just call me Jeong-sus Nim." "Mansapangawoyo Jeong-sus Nim."

Thanks for giving me something to write about. Hit with writers block.

There and Back Again

I returned from South East Asia tour on 06FEB2011. I flew standby on a flight that was overbooked by three seats. I spent 10 hours at Singapore Airport... the butterfly garden, free computers, and plenty of space to walk got me through the minutes and hours. I explained that I really needed to get back early to watch a stupid barbaric sport called Football, American Football... Superbowl. Further explained there were some friends meeting in Seoul, I'd been traveling alone too long and needed some fraternity. Good thing for good natured people... I get the flight.

I meet Rob, Shane, and Matt. We make 90cent bets on winners, kickoffs, and so forth. I come out 7 bucks ahead. And it seemed awfully symetrical that my trip ends the way it begins... meeting old Jecheon friends in Seoul.

It's winter, and I've got no winter clothes... or they are at Jamie's. Jamie is in Cambodia, and I'm in a short sleeve shirt. I look like a monk of sorts with my Luangprabang hand made wrap... Its my blanket, scarf, pillow, and the idea of a "wished you were here" tshirt. I get back to Jecheon after the football game.

I get my Heckler out of Jamie's... change out my backpackers pack for a smaller pack... get some warmer clothes, more socks, and clean underwear. Then I bike to my old school, Hwasan Elementary School. I greet the Headmaster, and join him for lunch. I ask if I may visit the English Center, I end up coming each day for the week. I teach on Friday for Drew who is in Seoul for training. I greet old students, and eat free and familiar lunches.

Through the course of that first week I get my motorcycle, and scooter serviced. I move the TV and PS3 to Tristan and Arienne's. For the next couple weeks I stay in various motels, on the floor of Chad's, on a matress on the floor at Tristan's, on a blanket-atop-a-blanket on the floor at Matt and Seo-Yeong's, and on a down blanket atop an electric blanket at Jamie and Omi's. Great friends all around.

I go from highly independant traveler exploring the open world and dangerous places... efficient, quick, brave, cocksured, sociable, wise, to homeless dependant pretty damn quick. Time ticks off as I put together plans for work. I turn down a couple jobs based on salary, and vacation. I get ignored by others. I get offered, and offered again. Targets set on a university position.

Turning back... spoke to family. Everyone seems good. Uncle Jim notes, "Isn't it strange that you are back in Jecheon and feel comfortable to be back home." He hit square on the nose. I had some real Korean food because I needed some comfort food. I got back to Jecheon soon as possible because it is the closest thing to home I know.. such is why I returned to Hwasan... and spent each day there for my first week. Homeless, or a with a home so large it encompasses mountains, hundreds of families, and rooms all across the city.

Thank you to Christina who is my Korean mother who reminds me much of my own mom... Thanks also to Sara, Jin, Min, Headmaster, and each person who has borrowed me their floor.