New Year's Eve, Seoul

I kicked off the New Year and a week of vacation with Aniva and some of her friends in Seoul. After dinner we went to a tropically themed place which boasted heated sand floors and basket chairs hanging from the ceiling. When our feet started getting a little too toasty, we tried another club, but it was very crowded and had 'no vibe'. As it was nearing midnight and we didn't want to be wandering the streets for the countdown, we gave up on trying to find a place that wasn't bursting at the seams and shoved our way into a very happening little club just off the Itaewon strip. I survived the champagne hose-down at the count of midnight, the loud pulsating music, and the shoulder to shoulder crush of people, but I did not leave the club without a severe case of sensory-overload. Morten and I said our goodbyes within the midnight hour to spend the first moments of 2007 in a slightly less chaotic--though far from peaceful--environment. A very strange mix of Koreans, American military personnel, English teachers, businessmen and other various foreigners filled the streets to send 2006 to the history books. Before we called it a night, Morten bought me some flowers from the roving flower lady. I think it's the strangest New Year's Eve I've ever had.

Liz's Birthday Continued/My Foray into Korean Fashion

Since we didn't feel like doing anything on Thursday night (school night) in celebration of the birthday, we decided to do the official foreigner celebration on Saturday night. And because we always just see each other in our plain old jeans and t-shirts or whatever else we happened to wear to work that day, we thought it would be fun (some more than others) to dress up for dinner. And instead of simply pulling out one of the three sensible skirts from our wardrobes, why not go shopping?

Our friend April found a dress fairly easily, so that left me and Liz to fend for ourselves one night after work. We wanted actual dresses, but this posed a couple of problems. One, Korean women don't wear casual dresses very often. There are strange skirts and tops and expensive little boutique dresses aplenty, but we wanted something in the middle. Two, Liz and I are big American women, and even though there are some big Korean women, Korea just hasn't caught onto making big clothes. In fact, I know that there are many Korean women who have a hard time finding clothes in their own country. It's not as if they're fat, either. Anyway, just for fun, we did go into a couple of the little boutiques. In one, a woman convinced us to try on some items even though she only had small and medium in everything. "I can ORDER large..." she told us expectantly, trying to make a good impression, unlike some of the shop owners who all but sneered at the mention of 'large'. We didn't leave completely depressed, however--we considered the fact that I actually got one of the dresses zipped a victory. As we were about to give up, we ran across a store with lots of brightly colored, fun and funky clothes in the biggest variety of sizes we'd seen yet. And they had dresses. Liz found a nice 'free size' dress, and after trying on a couple of misses, I got a hit. Once we had our dresses picked out, I, of course, had to check out the jewelry and found a nice necklace and some earrings to match my dress.

Sidenote about dressing rooms: there's usually standing room only, so hopefully you don't have to do much bending over; there usually aren't mirrors in the 'rooms', so plan on modeling for everyone in front of the communal mirror; and don't be surprised by a scant door covering. This last dressing room in question was right next to all the clothes and had a curtain on a dowel that covered me from mid-ribcage to knees. Liz was kind enough to stand in front of it. I also once tried on a pair of jeans in a utility closet.

Saturday afternoon we had a nice girls only lunch after which I treated Liz to a fancy airbrush manicure, and April and I had 'foot care' which translates as nearly one hour of intense leg and foot massage. We plan to go back. After that, we put on our dresses, collected the rest of our party, and went for dinner at Liz's favorite samgyeopsal restaurant. I was able to catch some photos of us in our rare state of dress--we even got Bryce to wear a tie, though it didn't last very long around his neck.

Sunrise

So, about the sunrise. It all started with a quiet dinner with Liz on Saturday night. Marc bailed out on us at the last minute, so we had a lovely girls only dinner followed by some jasmine tea at Jazz Club. A group of guys came in to celebrate a birthday, and they sent a piece of cake over to our table. It was quite good, but Liz and I decided that whipped cream is not a good substitute for frosting. After that, we headed to Warehouse for dance party night (my favorite!), but I got out of the dancing by shooting some pool. I tried leaving several times in there, but Marc, who is the best motivator/leader/manipulator I've ever met, convinced me that the night would get better, that we'd go somewhere else with less dancing and better music. He kept his promise, taking us all to Uncle 29 where the owner lets us pick the music and cooks us specialty snack food. For those of you in Korea, our friend Bryce plays guitar and sings there every Monday night at 9:30. After awhile of sitting around and talking, Marc sensed that he was starting to lose some people and made a valiant effort to round up a group to go out to the beach. In spite of some really superb smooth talking, he ended up with only three loyal followers--me, Liz, and Bryce. And that is how I found myself sitting on the beach in the cold sand eating bananas and Pringles watching the sun rise on Sunday morning. 'We only live once,' Marc pointed out. After seeing the sun fill the sky with amazing colors, I had no regrets. An old woman selling instant coffee took our picture while we waited for the sun to break.

Park English gathering in Seoul

Friday night after work, Liz and I headed out armed with coats, purses and a piece of paper that said something like ‘Taxi driver, please take these girls to the express bus station!’ I'm not really sure why it needed to be an exclamation, but it got us there. We found the express bus window, purchased tickets, and had a bite to eat at Lotteria—Korea’s contribution to the fast food world—while we waited for our departure time.

We nearly missed the bus, although I didn’t realize how close we had cut it (not my fault!) until I sat down and looked at the digital clock in the front of the bus: 7:29 for a 7:30 departure, and they don’t mess around. We pulled out at exactly 7:30. Two hours and forty-five minutes later, we arrived at Gangnam Station in Seoul. We got Niki from Park English on the phone, got in a taxi, and gave the phone to the driver. When he pulled over and motioned for us to get out a few minutes later, we crossed our fingers that our convoluted method of communicating had not failed us. We scoured the signs up and down the street for the name of the restaurant, and, not finding it, called Niki again who pointed us in the right direction. Only one wrong turn later and we were there!

There was no mistaking our party by the large horde of foreigners. Since I’d never actually met Niki, though, I hung back uncertainly for a moment looking for a likely suspect. Then I heard ‘Margie!’ and it was Niki jumping up to hug me as though we were long lost friends. We hit it off instantly. I also finally got to meet Cessilia Park of Park English, a gorgeous young woman of 25. Niki, if you’re wondering, is the lovely girl responsible for getting me to Korea. We spent a good deal of time talking on the phone and emailing each other, so it really did feel like we were already good friends.

We stayed there long enough for me to make the rounds and start a few conversations (everyone else had already been there for quite awhile), but then, in good Korean tradition, it was off to the next place. Everyone voted, and, as majority rules, a place called Polly’s Kettle House became our next destination. It was loud, dark, and smoky. As if I really expected anything else. I managed to talk to a few more people a little more in depth even though it meant yelling at full volume. This went on for quite awhile. It turns out that my sweater/shirt combo was a big hit—it got me three email addresses, and my nice teeth got me an email address AND a phone number. Too bad they didn’t get mine *evil laugh*. To be fair, though, all the guys I met were very nice.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Niki and Liz and I headed out, and Niki got me and Liz a hotel room that was basically big enough for a double bed and a little walking space. We crashed immediately, and when the phone rang for check-out time, I remember wondering why they had such an early check-out time (it felt no later than 7am). Turns out that it was 11am! We splashed the sleep out of our eyes and headed out to try to find out just where we were. We found a map of Itaewon in a little gift shop, so we figured that’s where we were. Itaewon is a section of Seoul known for its high concentration of foreigners, and indeed, we saw a lot of us. After a little window shopping and a quick brunch, we grabbed a taxi and once again produced the paper with the request for the driver to get us to the express bus station. Miraculously we found the right ticket window for our city and boarded our bus. First trip to Seoul—a complete success!

Here’s what’s up for this week: finding the post office, figuring out the ATM, continuing my quest for cheese. Oh yeah, new guy arrives on Friday.

Picture 1: A guy I didn't meet, Cessilia, Hera (in front), Sean (in the back), me, Niki, Steve, Damon's profile
Picture 2: Damon, Hera (barely), Niki, Sean, Cessilia, Liz (not sure what the pose is about)
Picture 3: Hera, Chris, me, Sean, Cessilia

The good news is that I'm not dead.

All other news is, well, mere details, I tell you. But at the risk of incurring the wrath of several faithful readers of my blog should I not touch on said details, read on.

Saturday Night:
Liz and I meet Morven and Tania--a girl freshly returned to Gangneung following a two month visit to Canada--downtown for dinner. We eat samgyeopsal, a bacon-style barbequed pork dipped in bean powder and eaten with the ubiquitous lettuce leaf. I enjoy a variation eaten with a large, thinly sliced raddish round.

From there we go to the jazz place where Taylor and his Korean girlfriend join us.

From there we go to Bumpin where I meet Michael, Carlos, Bryce, and Ivan (Aussie, Brit, Yank, Aussie).

From there we go to Wherehouse where there is a dance party. I agree to go because I love dancing so much. Uh-huh. Quickly tiring of bad music and an even worse sound system (I've been in cars with more powerful systems), we go back to Bumpin.

From there, most of the aforementioned people go to noraebang (karaoke). But they don't just go, they go on a four-wheeler. An all-terrain-vehicle. All of them. On the streets of downtown Gangneung. Now, I like having a good time as much as the next person, and despite being fairly socially conservative, I can hold my own when I go out. However, I don't have 'I am stupid' written on my forehead, and at this particular juncture, getting on the four-wheeler seems like something only people with 'I am stupid' written on their foreheads do. Ivan agrees with me, and we follow on foot as I want to make sure Liz doesn't die on my watch. When I confirm that Liz is safely singing with the others, I leave her to her own devices and catch a taxi home.

Sunday Night:
Ivan calls and we go out for gamjatang with another teacher, an older guy who calls himself R. Bob, and his Korean wife (I know I keep saying Korean this person and Korean that person as if their names aren't worth mentioning, but the fact is that I just can't remember Korean words. The only reason I can write the names of the food I've eaten is that I describe what I've eaten to Julian, and she writes it out for me). Gamjatang is a spicy stew with potatoes and pork back--literally chunks of the spine eaten like ribs. Mrs. R. Bob orders mild, for me, I think, though she claims to not care for spicy food herself (food is usually eaten from a communal pot). By the bottom of my second bowl, my face is beet red, my eyes are watering, and I'm gasping involuntarily. And R. Bob is telling his wife 'You could have at least got medium, honey...'

Monday:
I don't remember Monday, so it must have been okay.

Tuesday, Valentine's Day:
I have to deal with above average crying. Several of the incidents involve chocolate, several others involve extra naughty children being sent to the hallway to be dealt with by Julian. Julian lets us read the new guy's resume, and we discover that he's from Seattle--I like him already.

Today:
Katie 'falls' into Kevin's knee and bloodies her nose, Kevin's pants, her hands, my hands, my coat and my jeans. Terry gets his foot stuck through one of the chair slats nearly necessitating the jaws of life. I finally get paid. Yes, this is all worth it.

This weekend I will be venturing to Seoul for a party to meet all the people who went through my recruiting agency. Cross your fingers that there aren't any ATVs.

First night out

I had heard rumors of other foreigners in Gangneung but had not seen hide nor hair of any such foreigners until last night. Joseph keeps mostly to himself and hangs out with his Korean girlfriend, and since I didn't have a predecessor, I have had to rely on Liz's knowledge of the foreign crowd, passed on to her by her predecessor Anita. Liz, however, did not hit it off too well with Anita's friends, and I feared that her inability to get along with people had isolated me. Fortunately Morven, an English girl, gave her another chance, inviting both of us out for dinner last night.

We met at the McDonald's downtown and were joined by some teachers from Seoul who had come over for the skiing, a couple of guys from Gangneung, and a Korean guy and girl. To my relief, the McDonald's was simply a meeting place (apparently they didn't mind the small host of mi-gook loitering in the corner) and we proceeded to overwhelm a small dakgalbi restaurant with our throng and feasted for an inordinate amount of time on something similar to what I had with Joseph last week.

Picture: Clockwise: Liz sticking out her tongue, Chris and Darren from Seoul, Min-Jhong, Morven



Then it was off to a jazz club--translation: small restaurant with recorded jazz playing and wall decor of ancient horns and album covers. We spent too long there for my taste as well, partially because I wasn't too keen on the snacks. I've run into these several places, and they're just not right. They look like crinkle-cut fries, but they have the texture of a Cheeto, and they're 'shrimp' flavored. I can't think of anything worse.

Pictures: Morven and I; Morven, Niki, Min-Jhong, Darren

Last stop--Bumpin. When our crowd arrived, there were already fifteen or so foreigners crammed in the long narrow room, and we brought it to about twenty-five. I managed to meet a few new people, no thanks to the impossibly loud music and all the other people yelling to be heard above it. I finally found a free seat, and the Korean guy--he told me to call him Niki--with our group struck up a conversation with me. It was quite comical, really, with his marginal English skills, my lack of understanding for all words Korean, and the truly 'Bumpin' music. He would say something, I would say 'What?', and he would shout it again directly into my ear. Then I would reply, he would frown and lean forward, and I'd shout it again directly into his ear. I don't think we really knew what the other was saying, but we managed to have a fairly lengthy conversation in this fashion. As a testament to the fact that I genuinely did not understand all that was being said, I somehow ended up in his debt. Another guy explained to me that since Niki had done me a favor (huh?), I now owed him something--nothing big, just something silly. I asked what I should do, and he replied that I should let him teach me how to snowboard at Yongpyeong where he is an instructor. I considered this and came up with three reasons it was a good idea: one, I've been wanting to go snowboarding but have had no good contacts or resources to do so (it doesn't get any better than a 50% employee discount); two, Yongpyeong is a world-class facility, narrowly missing out on hosting the 2010 Olympics; and three, I wouldn't mind seeing the look on this guy's face when I give him a run for his money... So I agreed, and thus ended my first night out in Gangneung. Now if Niki and I can actually say enough of the right words to each other to make the plans, I'll have another great story to relate.

Pictures: Taylor and Gene from Gangneung; the bathroom at Bumpin.