Mountains

Jirisan National Park, October 27, 2012

I've written several times here about the ocean. Often when people in Korea ask me what I enjoy about the country I tell them I like having mountains and coastline so easily accessible after growing up far away from either. This is, of course, in addition to the people, the food, the work, and the stories. Now I think it's time to discuss the mountains, which I love just as much as the coast, but for different reasons.

A fair warning to those of you who don't know me: This will likely be a long post, and it probably will have little to do with Korea. With what will it have to do? If you stick with me we'll figure that out together along the way, hopefully.

This Christmas I had considered trying to do some hiking on Mudeungsan. It seemed a good way to reflect on my experiences here so far as I near the halfway point of my contract and to think about everybody back home, whom I'm missing now more than ever. This was the first time that any of my three brothers and I have not been home for Christmas, which I felt a bit sad about. For many years now one or more of us has been away from home for most of the year, and Christmas has always been the one time we've all been together (until now...sorry to break the streak!) Still, I was able to call home on Christmas morning home time and virtually participate in the annual ritual of walking down the stairs and trading witticisms while surveying Santa's delivery.

It was actually pretty similar to my Christmas at home two years ago, when I feel ill on Christmas Eve and crawled my way through the day as best I could. Of course, if I'm going to be sick, Christmas is a pretty good day for it. There's enough spirit to carry me through when I might otherwise be content to do no more than roll over in bed a few times through the day. This year I again fell ill on Christmas Eve (which precluded my hike and my waking up before noon on Christmas), but for the first time had the option of going to work, which helped the day pass more quickly. Not quite as quickly, mind you, as when I spent my ill Christmas Eve watching a snowstorm, building a snowman that stood nearly six feet tall for a few hours before leaning too far over and causing himself to be a rather unimpressive two feet tall, misshapen trail of snow chunks. I followed that by eating dinner with my brothers before braving the five mile drive to the evening church service with my older brother. It was fun, but it could have turned out to be a mistake as the snow continued to fall and I somehow ended up successfully maneuvering around stranded cars on the icy hill leading to our neighborhood while staying on the gas, fearing if I let up we would start to slide back down. That was after the twice-as-long drive down the freeway at 20 mph.

After safely arriving home I don't remember too much. Wait, it's coming back. My parents somehow made it up that hill even later than I did after even more snow, making my feat feel less remarkable. My brothers and I exchanged gifts after my parents returned, with Dylan and I surprising each other by exchanging Swanson Pyramids of Greatness with each other. I kind of wish I'd brought mine along to keep the one picture I have on my wall company. That one picture I have is a great one, though. It's my best friend David and me in our second grade February school production (which was put on by our second grade teacher, his aunt and my cousin). He's an appropriately tall Abraham Lincoln; I'm an appropriately bedraggled William Henry Harrison. It's a 4x6, slightly larger than my thermostat and considerably smaller than my doorbell/video screen. I like mostly bare walls, simple things.

It seemed a simple gift last Christmas when in my quadrant of the floor beneath the tree I found a piece of paper.

No it didn't. Pieces of paper are almost always complicated gifts, especially the blank ones.

On this paper was printed a voucher for a climb up Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. 'Wait,' I thought. 'Isn't that the same Mt. Washington that held the world record for highest recorded wind speed for decades, and that's known for having some of the worst weather in the world?'

Yeah, but it's in the Appalachians. Must be a pleasant climb.

It's in the Presidential Range, and the climb was scheduled for Presidents' Day, when I would be visiting my brother in Boston (that flight was a Christmas gift from my parents-my family is incredibly generous).

Presidents' Day is in February. Birth month of Washington, Lincoln, William Henry Harrison. New Hampshire is cold in February. The summit of Mt. Washington is much, much colder.

1996 was a leap year, thus the special February show

I received other wonderful gifts for Christmas last year, but that piece of paper from my older brother presented a sense of  anticipation and dread that outweighed even that I felt when I received a voucher for a series of tap-dancing lessons from a much more talented classmate in high school several years before (whose patience for me in those lessons was both admirable and futile).

I can hear some of you laughing. Don't think it couldn't happen to you. Watch enough Fred Astaire and bombard your ears with as much of the Great American Songbook as I did for four years and see how you feel about it then. Especially the Gershwins. Lots and lots of the Gershwins.

Within a few hours I had confirmed that wind speed record. In April 1934 a wind gust of 231 miles per hour was recorded on the peak. That link takes you to the Mount Washington Observatory website, which provided hours of entertainment, both fascination and terror, in the weeks leading up to the climb. According to that site, the normal monthly average monthly temperature in February from 1981 to 2010 was 6.1 deg. F, with a record low of -46 in 1943. The normal average wind speed in February was 44 mph, with a record gust of 166 mph in 1972.

If I could call myself a mountaineer at all, I would be just inside the realm of "novice" if it were being used literally. This was certainly going to be the most difficult climb I'd ever done if we were lucky enough to have the opportunity to go for the summit. By the end of the day I was nervous in the way I'd been nervous a few months earlier when I called Great Smoky Mountains National Park to reserve spots in a shelter on the AT only to be told that shelter was closed due to high levels of bear activity. Apparently the berries were not plentiful that season, so they were becoming more aggressive in their search for food. It sounded dangerous, and I was eager to get there so I could feel that danger more immediately. Or maybe just so I could write that sentence.

Was it worth it? Read the next post to find out. Coming soon!

24 Hours in Jeju

On the ferry leaving Jeju

We returned to work on Thursday after Chuseok for two days of work before the weekend. For the second consecutive Saturday I woke up early (though this time before the break of dawn) to get to U-Square to catch a bus. I met the rest of the our little traveling gang (two other teachers and the mother of one of them, who was visiting from the states) to catch a cab to the station and we took the 6:20 bus to Mokpo. The sun came up during the 50 minute bus ride, and after arriving in Mokpo we made our way via taxi to the ferry terminal.
The idea of going to Jeju thrilled me when they invited me to go along, but I underestimated just how interesting and enjoyable the ferry ride would end up being. It was a large boat with four decks with cabins above the space for vehicles. There was a restaurant with Korean food, as well as a bakery, a convenience store, and a souvenir shop (that I saw...there were parts of the boat I didn't fully explore). After boarding, we made our way to our ticketed space on the ferry. We were in an economy cabin, which was an open room about the size of my apartment. We left our shoes on a rack in the hall and went in to claim our stretch of floorspace along the wall.
If I end up going back to Jeju by ferry (which I plan on doing at some point) I'll get economy tickets again. Soon after we sat down, our room and the rooms around us began to fill up with Korean hikers, most of whom were chatting jovially and many of whom were toting boxes and bags of food and drink. The atmosphere was very friendly and lively, which felt appropriate given my own excitement about visiting the island.
When I first started thinking of trying to work in Korea I toyed with the idea of trying to get a job in Jeju. It's a very popular vacation destination here. Its southern location makes its climate milder than the rest of Korea, and the tallest mountain in South Korea, Hallasan, is located on the island as well. We postulated that many of the people we saw wearing hiking clothes and toting packs and poles were on their way to climb Hallasan. The combination of these volcanic sites, the warmer climate, and the lush vegetation lead to Jeju being considered sort of Korea's version of Hawaii.
Thinking of it this way intrigued me when I started daydreaming of going halfway around the world to teach for a year. This was also when I still figured I would be living like a hermit for a year, so being on a semi-remote island halfway around the world didn't seem to daunting. Now that I've been here a while, it seems that working on Jeju could be inconvenient for someone looking to travel often. The island isbeautiful, and there seemed to be a lot to do there to stay busy. But living on Jeju would add several hours and plane or ferry ticket expenses to any travel on the mainland.
This may not be too bad, however, as the ferry ride was very enjoyable. We grabbed some food from the bakery and restaurant after the boat set sail, and spent a couple of hours out on the decks just watching as we passed dozens of islands off the southern coast on the way out of Mokpo. I was still tired from the early wake-up and travel, so I went back to our little room and stretched out on the floor for a nap. I ended up sleeping for around an hour, which was much longer than I expected to manage on a floor in the daytime surrounded by strangers. I felt surprisingly comfortable, though, and shortly after I woke up we arrived at Jeju.

The boat brought us in on the north side of the island. From there we took a taxi to our hotel on the south coast of the island. The ride took less than an hour, as Jeju is not a very large island. The hotel was right on the coast with an ocean view. We grabbed some lunch and went to explore before night fell. The coastline near the hotel was rather rocky, but there was a spot to climb down on the rocks at the water's edge, which I loved. My parents sometimes reminisce about a trip we took to Yellowstone when I was younger. Along the way, we stopped in the Badlands in South Dakota. They tell me that I had a blast scrambling around some of the rocks there, and I can believe it. I don't have any technical rock-climbing experience, but this spot provided just the sort of minimal challenge that I find enjoyable. We played around there for about half an hour, and I took some video.

Since we weren't able to get in the water on this part of the coast, we ended up requesting a cab from the hotel desk, and went to a beach area a few miles away. We arrived shortly before sundown.

Although Jeju is the closest thing Korea has to a tropical vacation spot, the weather was already slightly chilly, it being October, so I was a bit nervous about going into the water. Even so, we made our way out into the surf. There was a long stretch of clear, shallow water that was barely to my knees. We walked through the water for about 200 meters before we finally reached a spot that was deep enough to actually swim a bit without scraping against the bottom. There we dove into the waves, bracing for the cold.
I'm very glad we found this beach and got to it before sundown, because it was a thrill to be floating in the ocean again, for the first time since being in the Outer Banks this summer. As much as I love the mountains, as it gets colder I find myself reminiscing more about staring out at the waves crashing in or of treading in the surf, bobbing up and down. As I floated out there, I tried to capture some of the spirit with some video looking back over the stretch of shallow water we walked through to get out to the waves. Sorry for the shaking. I was treading with my legs and one arm while holding the camera with the other. Hopefully it does give an idea of what a gorgeous scene it was:

Before long, that sun had sunk beneath those buildings, and we trudged through the water back to shore, shivering from the chill. We caught a cab back to the hotel before having dinner and enjoying an evening exploring the hotel grounds. The next day we took the taxi back to the other side of the island (while taking in some spectacular views of the forests on the island's interior) and were on the ferry back to Mokpo that afternoon. The photo at the top of this post was taken as we were leaving Jeju. It was a lovely ferry ride, as we were able to watch the sunset over the ocean.
It was a fantastic weekend, the second in a row for me. Even though we were only on the island for about a day in total, it provided a restful break and felt like a wonderful escape. Jeju was much quieter and quainter than I expected, at least the parts we saw. It is likely much busier during the regular tourist season, but I enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere and the natural beauty of the place, especially the little stretch of coast near our hotel. Sure, it was chilly and short-lived, but I really did feel as though I'd had a taste of paradise, especially while floating out there in the waves.

Before I sign off for this post, I want to thank the other teachers who invited me to join them for this trip! They've taken great care of me while I've been here, making me feel very welcome and helping me find my way around here. I really enjoyed traveling with you guys and I look forward to doing so again soon!

The Rest of Chuseok in Seoul

On Sunday morning, September 30, I woke up around 7am and had a bagel and milk for breakfast courtesy of Hyun-ho's parents before heading off with Hyun-ho to his church, which was a tall, beautiful building about a ten minute walk from his apartment. We walked across a stream to get there, and from the other side we took pictures with the apartment building visible in the background:

I was able to do some sightseeing in Seoul, as I wrote in the last post and will describe in this one, but visiting this church service was a great example of how wonderful the less obvious experiences can be for me. We went early because he was helping with the music for a service for middle-schoolers. I met a few of his friends from the church and then had some tea and listened to them practice the songs for the service. The church usually has an English language service, apparently, but so many members were traveling for Chuseok that the service had been cancelled. The pastor giving the sermon for the middle-schoolers was usually the English language service pastor, and he introduced himself to me before the service. While giving the sermon he was kind enough to pause from time to time to give me a translation of what he'd been saying. It made me feel self-conscious at first, since I was the only foreigner there and would not have minded just listening to Korean service, but it was a warm gesture and I appreciated his making sure I had a better idea of what he was preaching.

After the sermon a couple more songs were sung, and I actually joined in the final song once I recognized the melody:
"All to Jesus I surrender
All to Him I freely give
I will ever love and trust Him
In his presence daily live
I surrender all, I surrender all
All to Jesus I surrender
I surrender all."
This is another one I've heard and sung countless times back home, and hearing it again here, I couldn't help but grin. I also really enjoy hearing the songs I don't recognize as well, but some nostalgia is nice once in a while too. Nostalgia is not quite the right term, though. It's more a thrill I feel in recognizing that these things I grew up with can be found halfway around the world as well, and the thrill is much more profound when it's a hymn instead of a hamburger.

After a delicious dinner back at the apartment (pork galbi, if I remember correctly, with more pajeon and lots of great banchan) Hyun-ho and I caught the bus to Jongno. Our first destination was Gyeongbokgung Palace. We spent about an hour looking around the palace grounds which were beautiful and expansive. There were many foreigners touring the complex, and also a lot of the Korean children were wearing hanboks, traditional Korean dress, for the holiday. One family was kind enough to let their kids get in a picture so you can see what the hanboks look like:

I went relatively picture-crazy with my new camera at the palace, as it was filled with gorgeous designs and interesting juxtapositions of traditional design with the modern skyscrapers of Jongno district outside the palace walls. Here are a few of the better photographs I got there:

After leaving Gyeongbokgung we crossed the street to a festival that was being held across from the palace with musical performances and booths set up with various activities to take part in, including making different foods and crafts.

In the interest of full disclosure I should tell you that I debated for sometime whether or not I should share this picture, as I realized my intimidating look would be disturbing for some of you. However, I decided it had enough cultural relevance to merit its inclusion. I also had my picture taken with King Sejong, creator of Hangul:

King Sejong is the big golden figure on the right side of the picture, by the way, and not the hanbok kid intrigued by the awkward waygook in her way. It made for a nice goodbye to summer to see all the bright colors of traditional Korean dress for the Chuseok festivities, as shown in the picture of festival performers below:

From here we began walking toward Insadong, a popular area for tourists with lots of shops selling traditional items. Along the way I was pleasantly surprised to run into a couple of new teachers from my hagwon, who had just arrived in Korea about two weeks before. They had mentioned at work the previous week that they were considering going to Seoul during the break, and I told them I would try to meet up with them if they did. Unfortunately, I forgot to take along my iPod to send messages and they didn't have phones since they were so new to the country. By some stroke of fate, however, we happened to be walking down the same stretch of street at the same time and we stopped and chatted for a bit.
Following this Hyun-ho and I went to Insadong, an area well-known for its traditional shops. It was interesting to see the various goods available in all directions. We stopped for a drink in a green tea shop specializing in green tea from Boseong and Jeju and had green tea lattes, which has become my go-to drink at coffee shops recently. We sat up on the second floor and looked out through the windows onto the passing throngs below, which made for an intriguing contrast between the peaceful interior and the bustling crowd on the other side of the glass.
It was getting close to the time we were meant to be at Hyun-ho's grandmother's home to meet up with the rest of the family for Chuseok dinner. We caught a bus and were there about half an hour later with an appetite built up. Honestly, though, from that first lunch in Gangnam until the time I arrived back in Gwangju Monday evening I was not hungry at all. They fed me so well while I was in Seoul. Every meal was delicious and plentiful. The Chuseok dinner was the biggest, and I was very happy to have the chance to share this holiday meal with a Korean family. Here's a picture of part of the feast:

There were so many different foods! Soup, kimchi, pajeon, sweet potatoes, beef, chicken, noodles, and songpyeon, traditional rice cakes. I'm a slow eater, and I was at the table for over half an hour helping myself from nearly all of these dishes. I'm especially a sucker for pajeon and chapche. It was all very delicious and satisfying. By the time I left the table I was stuffed.

Tomorrow is American Thanksgiving, and this will be the fourth year I haven't been at home for the holiday. During college my break was only Thanksgiving day and the next day, so it was impractical and expensive to fly home for a four-day break, though I did enjoy it the one year I flew home on Thanksgiving morning. Luckily, my freshman year my adviser actually invited me to join her family for Thanksgiving dinner, which was a wonderful and heartwarming experience. My sophomore year I went home, and the last two years of college I had my older brother up there with me as a grad student so I had some family with me, which was great. However, recently the family is spreading out more and more and the Thanksgiving crowd gets smaller and smaller. Christmas has been the holiday for which all my brothers come home and everyone gets together, whereas for Thanksgiving we've learned to celebrate remotely.
That being said, for Chuseok I really enjoyed being able to join Hyun-ho's family for their celebration. They were all very friendly and really made me feel comfortable and involved, despite the language and cultural barriers. Smiles and good food is a powerful method of doing that. Hyun-ho and one of his uncles both speak very good English, so they were able to converse with me and translate when necessary, but I felt very content sitting on the couch enjoying fruit and songpyeon for dessert and watching and listening to this family enjoying their time together and opening their hearts and home to me. Toward the end of the evening they made a video call to my neighbor back in the states to include her in the family celebration, and I got to talk to her for a while. Seeing and talking to her on the phone while I was with her family in Korea and she was back near where I'm from in the states, in conjunction with the hospitality with which her family was treating me made me feel very close to home.
The next morning I packed my things to prepare for my return to Gwangju. I had a couple of hours before I had to leave for the bus station, so I had more time to visit with Hyun-ho and his parents. His mom showed me how to make kimchi jiggae, which I had requested to eat for lunch. I actually tried making it for myself just the other night, and mine turned out okay, but not as good as hers. We had another delicious and filling lunch, and as I left they gave me a container of kimchi and a bag of flowers for tea to take back with me. I thanked them again for being so kind and generous and for giving me a taste of home while being so far away, and Hyun-ho led me to the bus station.
Before I got on the bus back to Gwangju, Hyun-ho showed me the Krispy Kreme shop at the station and bought me a couple donuts to take along. I got a kick out of that. There's a Dunkin Donuts here in Sangmu, but I hadn't seen a Krispy Kreme in Korea until then (although I've since heard that there is one in Gwangju), but it's the more popular brand back in St. Louis and the company started in North Carolina where one of my brothers goes to school.
With my bag of donuts, I thanked Hyun-ho for hosting me for a hugely enjoyable weekend and boarded the bus. I slept about half of the four hours it took to get back to Gwangju, and read for the other half. From the Gwangju bus terminal I decided to walk back to Sangmu. As I walked I reflected on the weekend and on my time in Korea. It was October 1, and I was starting my third month here. Thinking of it now I can hardly believe that was nearly two months ago now. Of course, there was a lot that happened during that time that I still need to write about.
When I arrived back in Sangmu I met up with a few other teachers for dinner, and they invited me to join them for a trip to Jeju that weekend, which will be covered in my next post soon. Until then, thanks for reading and Happy Thanksgiving!

Chuseok in Seoul

Gyeongbokgung Palace

After failing to write a post in October, it's time to get back in the swing of things.

A few hours after publishing my previous post, I woke up and grabbed a taxi to the bus terminal in Gwangju just in time to catch my 8:00am bus to Seoul, where I would be spending the Chuseok holiday with the friend I wrote about in this previous post. I had been a bit nervous about traveling that day, since Chuseok is one of the major Korean holidays (like Thanksgiving back home) and is supposedly one of the busiest travel periods here. There were no delays on the bus ride to Seoul, fortunately, but for much of the way going into Seoul the traffic leaving the city was nearly at a standstill. Many people visit their families in their hometowns for the holiday (again like Thanksgiving back home) so the number of people leaving the city is much greater than those going in.

Hyun-ho met me at the bus terminal in Seoul and guided me to the subway. We caught the train to Gangnam and had dakgalbi for lunch. This was the first time I'd had dakgalbi, and it was very delicious and filling. I really enjoy how at so many restaurants here the food cooks right in front of you. With samgyupsal there's a charcoal grill in the center of the table, and with dakgalbi there's a gas burner in the center of the table, and the server adds the chicken, cabbage, and any other ingredients right there. I hadn't seen Hyun-ho since he visited Gwangju back in August, but I was so entranced by watching my lunch cook and brimming with anticipation that I didn't say much. Also, I have to admit that using chopsticks was still a task that required some concentration for me. I'm still no expert, but I have made great progress since I arrived, and I'm better now than I was a month ago.

After lunch Hyun-ho wanted to show me Itaewon, which is famous for its plethora of Westerners and Western establishments. Before we went back down to the subway I asked to stop to get a photo using the camera I'd bought the day before. Up to that point I'd been relying on my iPod touch to take pictures. It did a nice job, but I thought an upgrade in quality would be a good idea since I sometimes send pictures back home so my parents can show them to my grandparents and others. Also, I think it will be neat to look through them when I do make it back home. Since Gangnam is a very well-known part of Seoul I wanted a photo from there so I took one just outside of the subway station, and here it is:

Gangnam subway entrance

We were only in Gangnam a short time, but I'm glad we stopped there. Even just from the buildings you can certainly tell it is a very upscale area.

Itaewon was a few subway stops away on the other side of the Han River, and it made for one of the more bizarre feelings I've had since arriving in Korean. It's very near an American military base and is packed with international style restaurants and stores. Here I am in front of the subway station there:

After walking around checking out the various offerings for a while, we stopped for some coffee. This is where I was really thrown. While we were there several American families came in with children. I see plenty of 20-30 something native English speakers pretty regularly here, and sometimes even people slightly more advanced than that. In Itaewon, however, I saw older people and Western children for the first time since I left the states. This made me think a couple of things: first I imagined how neat it will be for those kids when they get older to realize they spent a part of their childhood in Korea, and then I thought of how I shouldn't feel daunted by being away from my home country because here are kids who probably weren't even ten living over here. Living in Seoul is probably quite different from living in Gwangju, and it's becoming extremely rare for me to feel daunted by living here, but it seemed notable. I remember thinking, "This will have to go in my blog." I just didn't think it would take me six weeks to actually write my next post.

From Itaewon we caught a bus to the area where Hyun-ho lives. We passed by the American military base and the Korean War Museum, which I would like to visit sometime. Hyun-ho also pointed out Seoul Tower and Namsan and said I should visit them next time I go to Seoul. I definitely will make a trip there sometime in the coming months, and these spots are on my list of sites to catch. The bus ride was pleasant. I was able to catch up with Hyun-ho and he pointed out many different sites along the bus route. We had a bit of a shock when the bus was involved in a non-serious collision. It happened on the side of the bus opposite where we were sitting, so I had a sick feeling when I heard the tires squealing followed by a bang and scraping noises. People on the other side looked out of the windows with deeply concerned faces and I hated to imagine what may have happened. Fortunately we just caught the extreme front end of a car that was hanging slightly over into our lane. The bus took off the car's front bumper, but it was a glancing blow and no one was hurt. We filed off the bus with the rest of the passengers after about ten minutes and walked to a nearby stop to catch the next bus.

When we arrived at the apartment I met Hyun-ho's parents. They don't speak English, and I still don't really speak Korean other than the minimal basics, but they were just as sweet and welcoming as I imagined, all smiles and pleasantries. Hyun-ho was kind and patient enough to do a lot of translating for us. I tend to get a bit nervous about being a guest at homes because I don't like to create too many inconveniences and I want to make a good impression, but they immediately made me feel at ease and excited to have made the trip. While waiting for dinner we turned a Korean baseball game on the television, and Hyun-ho's dad offered me some dried squid, which I actually enjoyed. It takes some work to chew it, but it has a pleasant, more-subtle-than-you-might-think marine flavor. They prepared a wonderful bulgogi dinner with various side dishes, including some of the vegetable pancakes that I love with squid tentacles cooked into them. It was delicious and I ate more than I had in a long while, which was to become a common theme on the trip.

After dinner, Hyun-ho and I headed back out to catch the bus to go see "Taken 2". I hadn't gone to see a movie since I'd left the states, so I was excited for the new experience, as well as for revisiting the adventures of Liam Neeson. Ever since I left "The Grey" during the end credits I've been feeling as though I missed something, and "Taken 2" seemed like it may be just the backscratcher to reach the spot.

The theater was located on the upper floors of a very tall department store building, something like 16 stories high. The seats in many Korean theaters are assigned, so we grabbed some Cokes from concessions and went into the auditorium to find our designated seats and settle in for the show. The lights dimmed, and we were treated to exactly what you'd expect from "Taken 2": several dozen more pieces of evidence supporting the argument that one should not mess with Liam Neeson.

I found the movie-going experience, like many experiences here, comfortably familiar while still being different enough to be exciting. As the movie played I began to stop noticing the Korean subtitles so what was on the screen seemed the same as watching back home, but when the credits started rolling and the lights came back on I stood up and remembered where I was and realized I seemed to be the only foreigner in the auditorium. I've always enjoyed going to the movies, and my first trip to the movies in a different country was one that I'll certainly remember.

After we arrived back at the apartment I watched some EPL soccer with Hyun-ho and his parents before taking a shower and retiring for the night. I'd been on the go since 7:00 that morning. Six months ago that would be a typical day for me, but working afternoons and evenings has shifted my routine rather drastically, so by midnight I was pretty well worn out. I also wanted to be sure I was rested for the next day, which was set to begin with a visit to Hyun-ho's church, which I certainly did not want to miss.

Now it's getting a bit late here in Gwangju and I have one more day of work until the weekend, so I'll save the rest of my trip for the next post (including our visit to Gyeonbokgung Palace, shown in the top picture). Don't worry, I won't wait six more weeks to post that one! Maybe tomorrow night...

An Extra Note

For those of you who are curious, I wanted to explain a bit more about how I came here. After dealing with several different recruiters, I was set up with an interview at my hagwon by Dan and his team through Teach ESL Korea. I believe they've posted my blog on their website and it seems like I'm getting some readers from there. If that's how you got here, welcome and thank you for reading! I've been here nearly four months now and am loving it. If you're interested in learning more about what it's like to teach in Korea or about opportunities to pursue it for yourself, check out their website. They have some great resources that were helpful for me as I was doing research for what has turned out to be a terrific experience so far.

Boseong and Yulpo

Standing in the ocean at Yulpo Beach

In the middle of August some of the foreign teachers at my school planned to go to Boseong on the southern coast during the August 15 holiday (Korean Independence Day. Unfortunately, like so much of August, there ended up being rain on that day, making it less than ideal for climbing around the green tea fields.

A couple of weeks later (four weeks ago now), Lily was kind enough to guide me down to Boseong to see the green tea fields and see the nearby beach at Yulpo. We met up on Sunday morning and caught a mostly empty bus for the 90 minute ride to Boseong. It was the first time I'd left Gwangju since going to Yeosu, and it gave me a bit of a thrill to get out of the city. I'm really enjoying Gwangju and I love exploring the city. There's still so much I need to discover and experience here. Still, I'm a sucker for that feeling of escape, so riding out through the mountains and into the countryside brought a smile to my face.

Boseong is a small town on the southern coast that is famous for its green tea plantations and is a popular daytrip from Gwangju. I found and read through several posts by foreign teachers about their visits there, but I was still a bit unsure of how to get around after getting to the Boseong bus station, so it was good having Lily along. She'd been there last year and made navigating the area much less stressful.

The Boseong bus station seemed about the polar opposite of Gwangju's terminal, known as U-Square, or Gwangcheong. U-Square is a destination in and of itself. In addition to several dozen platforms, it is filled with shops and restaurants. It is also connected to a movie theater, department store, and some sort of cultural/arts display gallery that I need to find out more about.

Boseong's station, on the other hand, consisted of about 6 bus platforms outside a well-worn building containing the ticket window and a convenience store. It wasn't a bad little place, but it definitely set the tone that we were not in the relatively big city anymore, which I appreciated. There was some time to kill before the bus to the tea fields would leave, so we walked through the town while we waited.

The street was lined with vendors, as are many Korean streets on the weekends. For a while I felt a bit self-conscious. There are enough foreigners in Gwangju that I sometimes don't think too much about my foreignness, but we hadn't seen any foreigners since leaving Gwangju. It's an odd awareness because I haven't really had any bad experiences, and most people I've interacted with have been very accommodating and welcoming. Most likely I was overthinking it in Boseong as well, because I realize now that a great deal of foreign teachers go down there, so we probably were not that uncommon a sight. And really, it was a nice, quiet little town. We walked over some railroad tracks at one point, which made it feel almost familiar by reminding me of so many rural American towns I've been in without giving them a second thought. Sometimes I didn't even think about them while I was there.

The green tea fields were beautiful, despite it being overcast and dimming these pictures a bit. Admission to the plantation was 3,000 won, and there were many families out trekking around the fields, taking in the views. The fields are terraced on some pretty steep hillsides, so exploring them can be a decent workout.

There were workers out harvesting leaves that day, working their way down the rows with a machine that trimmed the outer parts of the leaves and collected them in bags. After going most of the way up this slope to get a better view of the forested mountains surrounding the plantation we cut through some of the rows to descend to the shops and tables below. One of the shops sold green tea ice cream and shakes. I opted to try it in ice cream form, and it was absolutely delicious. I imagine they had to add a lot of sweetness to get it to the point where I would like it, but it still had that green tea flavor. I was pleasantly surprised, and I will definitely be indulging again should I find my way down to Boseong again. The whole experience reminded me a bit of going to a pick-your-own orchard back home, like Eckert's. Granted, you don't pick your own green tea and eat it out in the field like you can do with apples, but it has that laid-back, look around at your leisure and then have some delicious snacks aura. There are probably enough paths to explore for the better part of an afternoon, but we still wanted to find the beach so we went back to find the bus after the ice cream. Maybe if I'm feeling extra homesick some weekend this fall I can pretend I'm going out to pick apples or find a pumpkin and go back down to Boseong for an Eckerts-esque afternoon of autumn weather.

The bus route we'd taken earlier (which may be the only local bus in the area, I'm not sure) goes on from the plantation to Yulpo beach, so once we were back on board it wasn't difficult to find our way there. Lily mentioned Yulpo as we got on, and the driver told us once we'd reached the right stop.

Row of shops and restaurants near Yulpo beach

Admittedly, Yulpo has a rather modest beach. My notions of being submerged in water were quickly dispelled. There was no real surf and the water was shallow for at least several dozen meters out into the water. Still, it was comforting to walk on the sand and into the water, even though much of it was covered by the shells of the clams the ajummas had been harvesting. I have a penchant for staring into nothingness when I'm in the water, and I zoned out on several occasions while looking into and out over the water here as well. Feeling that water makes me feel warmly small at the thought of how vast and inhospitable the oceans can be and at imagining how they can connect everything. Across the Pacific, through the Panama Canal, up to the Gulf and into the river past New Orleans right on up to the barge docks. From there I can cross a few levees and follow some corn-lined gravel roads to the bluffs. Simple.

I could stare at this all day.

I eventually awoke from my mesmerized state and retreated to dry land. We got some kimchi jiggae and seafood side dishes for dinner and hopped back on the bus to the Boseong bus station. We had about half an hour to kill before the next bus to Gwangju, so we walked back through the town and I was able to get a few photos from a hilltop park to include at the end of this post.

Thanks for reading and thanks again to Lily for taking time to show me around. I was feeling great already, but seeing the ocean always makes me feel even better.

Happy 100th FBC Dupo

I've been meaning to write this post for almost a month now, but delayed doing so because I was unsure of how to frame it. I was reminded this morning of an important event back home this weekend (see title). Before you read on, please realize I don't really have any pictures to accompany this blog, nor does it contain accounts of exciting travel or beautiful scenery. Check back Sunday night for that. This one's about God.

Several Sundays ago I was invited to an English-language service at a nearby church. Really it's probably somewhere around three miles from my apartment. I was excited by the prospect of being in church for the first time since leaving home, but also nervous at the prospect of trying to find this location on my own, and then following that endeavor (if successful) with the task of meeting and interacting with a sanctuary full of new people. I fully expected to be warmly welcomed. The church likely specializes in welcoming newcomers, as so many of the native English speakers here are foreign teachers. A great deal of these teachers are in and out of the country within a year, and though I don't have the numbers, I imagine a great majority are gone within two years of arriving.

Thus, my anxiety was not a result of fear of being unwelcome. It was just my usual reaction to new. (To this point, I was explaining the word "nervous" to one of my classes this week, and to get them to understand I said it's how you feel "when you have a test, or when you meet someone new".) Adding to the effect was the fact that I would likely need to hail a cab here for myself for the first time. The night before while perusing the directions to the church I had flirted with the idea of walking there, estimating I would need at least an hour to get there and allow time for what seemed like at least one inevitable wrong turn.

Unsurprisingly, when my eyes opened for the first time Sunday morning to see the clock I decided that extra hour of sleep would be worth the cab fare (which is very reasonable here) and the admittedly not-that-daunting challenge of getting into a cab and telling the driver where I want to go. When I did wake up and get dressed I copied down in my notebook the Korean directions to show the cab driver in case my pronunciation proved to be indecipherable, as it often has, and headed down the stairs. (Here I would like to thank my neighbor back home for teaching me how to read and write Hangul. Although I still know very little of the meaning of what I can read, it helps tremendously with pronunciation and having some idea of what I'm writing when I copy things down. The Romanization of Korean words and names can still be rather confusing. I think it might take me almost as much time to learn that system as it did to learn Hangul.)

Turns out I did need that notebook. It was pronounced more "Yaum" than "Yum", I realized later, and that was just the first syllable. I'm sure I muddled much more of it too. Luckily, once I showed the driver what I had written he had me at the church in under ten minutes. At first I didn't realize it was the church, but after about twenty seconds of standing in place on the sidewalk and looking up and down the street for clues, I was spotted by a man who had been directing traffic. He led me inside and handed me off to an English speaking church member who led me up to the English-language service.

Wolgwang is a large church, with several thousand members. They offer services in several languages, including Chinese and English. There were several dozen people in the English service that day (somewhere between 50 and 100...I'm better at estimating distances than crowds), and they were indeed very welcoming. I was greeted by the pastor and many other church regulars. I particularly enjoyed the small group meetings after the service, which allowed me to converse a bit with a few other men there, including a couple of American teachers. The service was good as well, but the most striking moment for me came during the opening musical worship time. The songs were listed in the order of worship, but I didn't recognize any of the titles. The church I grew up used mostly traditional hymns, so I'm unfamiliar with much of the music performed in more contemporary services. I enjoy it, I just don't know it as well.

There were talented musicians leading the songs, including guitarists, a keyboarder, a drummer, and several singers. It was a joy to hear, and it really lifted my spirits, not that I'd been feeling low.This has been a fantastic experience thus far, even better than I had hoped and imagined it would be. I do at times think of how much control I have over who I am here, however. Other than what was on my resume, what people here know about me is a result of what I decide to tell them.  I've felt this way before, particularly when starting college (and off to that two-week course in Montana, which will probably have a post all its own in the future). The sensation is mostly thrilling, but it can at times be disorienting as well. In the most harrowing moments I realize just how much who I believe I am at home can be my reading of how I think the people I've known for a long time see me. It's a mosaic of impressions made intentionally and unknowingly over years and years. I've been here seven weeks. No one is going to show me who I am. I have to show them. Yes, I know it should be this way at home too, and it's more nuanced than this, but I can't say everything now or I'm sure to repeat it later this year, so allow me this oversimplified aphorism.

The last song listed in the order of worship before the announcements and sermon was titled "What a Fellowship, What a Joy Divine". It didn't strike me until they began to play it that it was that old comforting standby which I'd sung with pint-sized gusto since my earliest days from the hymnals ("Leeeeee-inning") and which was the main source of my enjoyment of the Coen Brothers' remake of "True Grit" - "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms". I soon joined in with a widened nostalgic smile, having had a bit more of myself shown to me as from an old photo album. It hadn't been such a long time since I sang it, but being so far away can make everything feel like it was longer ago.

This brings me to the impetus for my finally writing this blog post. I wanted to write one this week after I missed last Sunday. This morning while talking to my parents before work they reminded me that this weekend my church at home, First Baptist Church in Dupo, IL, will be celebrating its 100th anniversary. This church has been more important in my life than any other institution. I was raised in this church, as were my parents. In fact, members of my family have been involved in the church for most of the past century.

As I understand it, my paternal great-grandmother (my grandmother's mother) began attending the church as a young woman. She raised her children in the church, and they raised their children in the church, and they raised my generation in the church. On the other side, my mother's mother began attending the church not long after moving to the town when my mother was a kid. My parents got to know each other through the church. As a kid, many Sundays ended up being like decent-sized family reunions, with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, cousins, cousins, cousins. In a town of 6,000 and a church service with less than 200 in attendance, in many cases a couple dozen of those would be my relatives.

My extended (and even my immediate) family has spread out a great deal since then, though you'll still find a consistent core of those still in or back in town most Sundays. No matter how far flung we become, however, I am thankful for the foundation that I found there and that I can take with me wherever I go. I am inspired by the thought my family before me finding their way into the church and showing such commitment to doing God's work and maintaining a vital community of believers in Dupo. Happy 100th anniversary! I'm sorry I can't be there to celebrate with you this weekend, but I look forward to sitting in the pews again soon.

Here's a link to the church's website. It was just recently launched and is in the process of being updated, but the basics are there.
http://www.fbcdupo.org/


P.S. As I was mulling over this blog post and preparing to write I struggled with many conflicting feelings and ideas. While I've never denied being a Christian, it is a part of my life that I often don't discuss unless I'm asked directly about it. It did feel a bit odd, therefore, to consider posting something like this in a place where theoretically, anyone could see it. I realize most readers who get to this point probably know me pretty well already and may even be somewhat of a captive audience (I still thank you for sticking with me this long). But my faith still felt awfully personal to discuss here as I thought of those who might not know me so well (and if that's you, I also appreciate your hanging in here for this long).

The day after arriving here in Gwangju I pulled all the clothes I had brought out of my two suitcases. In one of the bags I found a piece of paper ripped from a yellow legal pad and drawn on in crayon. Spread over a rough sketch of East Asia my brother had listed Bible verses for me to look up, all related to brotherhood.

A few weeks later, as I was walking home from work, I ran into one of the former Korean employees from the school. Unfortunately, I arrived here just as he was preparing to leave the school and begin his next adventure in life, so I didn't get a chance to know him very well. He was the first person from the school I met here, as he picked me up from the bus terminal and took me to my apartment and the school, and he was a big help to me in getting settled in the weeks that followed. He always seemed to me like an incredibly friendly and fascinating guy, and by all accounts from other teachers, he is.

That night on the sidewalk as he was saying goodbye he told me he'd seen that note when he was setting up my television in the apartment, as I'd left it sitting out right next to the TV. I remember now thinking as I set it down that if anyone were to be in my apartment I would want them to see that note more than anything else I have here, so I was actually pleased he'd noticed it. He told me he'd seen what my brother had written at the top of the page: "Don't forget your roots."

Then he told me that although he didn't know me well, he thought I probably wouldn't. I was flattered.

As I said, I have to tell people who I am, and this really is the most important aspect of my life as I see myself. I don't even list my religious views on my social networking profiles, which are (somewhat) private. So here I am, revealing myself.

One of my fears is that some people may learn this about me and feel some discomfort with me as a result. If you've met me already, you've met the real me. If it seemed like I liked you, I liked you. Even if it seemed like I didn't like you, I probably liked you. I'm often not the most adept at displaying to people that I truly enjoy their company, though I usually do.

Many, many terrible sins have been and continue to be committed in the name of Christianity and other religions, and the loudest voices claiming to represent us often spew hate. Meanwhile a great many of us go about our lives seeking the fulfillment that comes from being good to people. I don't always do it, but when I don't I always wish I had.

P.P.S. I need to send a special birthday shout-out to my best friend of 25 years, one of those cousins I was always excited to see at church, David! Miss you, bro!

A Quick Update and Anticipating Ruminations on My Time Abroad

This was a week in which time mercifully slowed down.

Despite the fact that I was able to sleep in on Monday morning with the start of regular hours at work (which means I don't go in until early afternoon), I had basically succumbed to a cold by the time I woke up. It wasn't too serious, just enough to be a bit of an annoyance and to make me sound even more nasally than usual while teaching Monday evening.

School was cancelled for Tuesday in anticipation of dangerous conditions caused by Typhoon Bolaven, so I took the opportunity to try to get some extra rest to battle the bug. At 8:30 I awoke to a voice over the intercom system saying something, I don't know what. A few times over the next few hours this happened again, with different messages that I could not decipher. I really need to learn more Korean. Although at one point around noon I did pick up one word, which I was pretty sure was sixteen (shib-yook). Interestingly enough, the next message came over the intercom around 4:30 (or 16:30 on the 24-hour clock). I counted this as a small victory, but waking up during potentially dangerous conditions to words I can't understand has always been one of my fears about being in a non-English environment.

The storm did turn out to be dangerous, and sadly, there were fatalities in the area due to strong winds. Fortunately everyone at work came through it fine, although there were some leaky roofs and windows and some potential close calls with flying/falling objects that I heard about. I also noticed several downed trees in the ensuing days, including a small tree that was toppled right in front of our school. I took the photo below of a tree in a park-like area while walking around on Saturday.

Fallen tree

The extra rest helped tremendously. By Thursday afternoon my sore throat and congestion were gone, with only a minimal headache remaining. Thursday morning also brought some winds and heavy rain as  Typhoon Tembin moved through the area. This time the winds were blowing in such a direction that the rain was hitting my windows and I ended up with a tiny leak, which I soaked up with a towel. The rain had passed by the time I walked to work, and in its wake was a gorgeous, cool end-of-August day.

Feeling cool weather outside here for the first time immediately conjured memories of autumn back home, both relaxing and stressful. As I traipsed along the few blocks to the school many of these dropped by my consciousness, uninvited but not unwelcome. I could write an entire blog about cherished autumn-time memories, and I may have a need for space-filling material before the year is out so I won't squander them here. Suffice it to say that by the time I walked into work and switched gears I was again acutely aware of just how short a year really is and how much I really hope (and expect) to enjoy this fall.

The preceding days had primed me for such feelings. Three of our teachers left this week: two finished their contracts and a third moved to a different school.  Last Saturday I attended a going-away dinner for a teacher who finished his one-year contract this week. He really seemed like a wonderful teacher and a very interesting person, and I enjoyed the few snatches of conversation I got to have with him during the month we worked together. When I walked into the office on Thursday (which marked my fifth full week here) he was finalizing the last of his business here in preparation for his departure on Friday. He said goodbye, bid farewell to the bosses, and I watched him walk out of the office and head for the stairs. I couldn't help but contemplate how I may feel when I walk out of those doors for the last time. I know it will arrive quickly because I've imagined moments like that in the past, and they always happen so much sooner than I imagine.

My dorm room during my freshman year in college looked directly out onto the church steps that serve as the stage during commencement ceremonies. I would often look up from my desk and out that window, trying to imagine how I might feel four years from then. It's cliche, but four years later I remembered those moments vividly, despite all the extraordinarily wonderful and challenging experiences that had filled the interim. This blog, then, will be my attempt at examining all those wonderful and challenging adventures and thoughts/feelings I encounter and pursue. When I walk out the office doors for the final time I hope to have this to remind me of just how full my time here will have been.

Now I promise to stop being sappy. I touched the ocean today! I spent hours walking around the city yesterday! I went out with coworkers on several more occasions this week! I actually took pictures! Give me some time to digest and contextualize it and we'll see if I can wait until next Sunday to update you. In the meantime, here's a photo of the view from my apartment, and here's to me spending much more time out there than in here.

Diving In

Yeongsan River, looking upstream

Today I made a second visit to a location I suspect I'll spend a great deal of time in during the remainder of my time here.

This morning I woke up feeling a bit under the weather, with a sore throat and some congestion. It was nothing too serious, but I was feeling groggy enough that I drifted back to sleep several times before actually getting out of bed. Even after I was up and about I lazed about my apartment, straightening up a bit and making a call home to my parents and probably worrying them unduly with my slightly raspy voice, and my unwashed face and mussed hair when we got the video calling to work.

It could easily have been a day where I queue up some videos or reading and stayed in my building, perhaps even my apartment, all afternoon and evening by giving myself the excuse that I needed to get more rest to nip this cold in the bud.

Alas, yesterday I consumed the last of the calories I had in my apartment. I have been building a collection of Pepsi something-or-others in my fridge that are sometimes thrown into my bags when I pick up bottles of water or late-night-snacks from the 7-11, but I'm pretty sure they don't have any calories. I haven't tried one yet, but there's a large zero near the logo and usually that's a good indicator that I'm not going to enjoy the taste of whatever is inside.

It is possible to get food from the lobby of my building, which could come in handy this week with a whopper of a typhoon apparently bringing loads of rain our way. However, since I was going all the way downstairs, I decided I may as well take a step outside and see where it leads me. I threw on some jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, grabbed my iPod (I'm still relying on Wifi for all communications here, and I knew I needed some pictures for a post this week) my sunglasses, and my wallet, and walked out.

I decided to grab a candy bar (Twix, an old favorite I rarely indulge in because I often give in to the temptation to indulge in new favorites) to hold me over until I might come across some place to eat, or until I made it to the store to pick up some groceries. Really I wasn't sure where I would end up.

I walked past this park near my apartment in Sangmu.

I walked down to City Hall and headed...east or north, or northeast, possibly southeast. I know it wasn't west. There's a road that runs from City Hall past the May 18 Memorial Park and on to the bus station, and I went that way, thinking I might turn at the park and go up to the store to buy food.

Walking can be a great way to explore a new environment, and with plenty of daylight left and the weather being absolutely beautiful this afternoon, I continued along that road past the park. While walking I'm able to take in more of my surroundings than I could by other methods. If I am transported to some other location, I get nervous about being able to find my way back. When I walk (or run) I feel familiar enough with the route I've taken that I know I can basically backtrack if I need to. So I kept going.

I remembered seeing a large KIA plant along that road while riding in the taxi to the bus station with Sarah and Jolene to go to Yeosu a few weeks ago, so I decided to go at least far enough to see that and take some pictures to send to Dylan. He drives a KIA back home and is currently struggling with the pain of having to leave it at home as he returns to college, so I thought he might be annoyed to have me taunting him with reminders of all the KIAs I see everyday.

This one's for you, Dylan.
A KIA dealership near the school

Over time I've realized that getting out and moving around tends to make me think I'm feeling better when I think I'm sick. I picked up the pace and strolled up and down hills pretending I knew exactly where I was going and that I was covering enough of my skin and eyes to blend in (I realized how wrong I was when the first of several passers-by said "hello" to me) By the time I reached the KIA plant I'd forgotten the relative grogginess of the morning.

If you search "Gwangju, South Korea" in Google maps satellite view and zoom in a bit, until the scale is at about 1 inch=1 mile, you'll notice the city is roughly divided into half by the Yeongsan River. On the west side of the river is a large complex of light blue roofs. This is the KIA plant, and it's huge. It makes a great reference point when I'm trying to get an idea of where different landmarks are located in relation to my neighborhood because it sticks out so much on the map.

My route had brought me around the back edge of the plant, so I continued along the perimeter to the other side, which brought me to the bus station. Other than Sangmu, the bus station is the location in Gwangju I have seen the most. It's where I first arrived in Gwangju on the bus down from Incheon International Airport, so it was comforting in a way to have connected the dots between my apartment and this portal to the rest of Korea (and home) on foot. I love Gwangju so far and have much more to explore here, so it's not as though I'm dreaming of escape. Instead, I find it opens up the imagination when I can see how where I am is connected to so many other places.

Before going into the station itself I crossed to the other side of the street through an underground walkway between the bus station, a department store, and the local bus stops across the street. On the other side I noticed an LG electronics store and decided to duck in to cool off and browse around. There seemed to be a wide variety of electronics and appliances, and I was curious as to how many different items LG makes. If nothing else I thought perhaps I could stock up on some toothpaste.

Unlike the LG washing machine and dryer at my house in the states, this product does not sing to me when it's done.

To my surprise, I was the only customer in the store and thus became the focus of the attention of the three workers patrolling the floor. Since I wasn't sure how to convey "just browsing" to them, I decided to ask about cell phones, since I'm planning on buying one soon. I held my hand up to my ear and was led to the phone counter.

Luckily for me, the man working the phone counter spoke very good English. He said he'd spent the past year in Sydney and seemed eager to practice his English, which proved very helpful as I had a large store of questions about buying a cell phone. After fifteen minutes another customer came in, and not wanting to monopolize his time, I thanked him for his help. He wished me luck and saw me to the door.

Often I find myself hesitant to enter situations in which I'm not sure exactly what to do. Even in the states I like to know exactly how to proceed in any number of contingencies, and I'll occasionally avoid situations that I feel present too much uncertainty despite the fact that I'm constantly surrounded by people who would understand what I was saying were I to ask them for help and whom I could understand when they respond.

In that light, walking into an electronics store by myself for no particular reason without knowing much relevant Korean besides "Hello...where is...how much does it cost...thank you" felt like an adventure of sorts for me, albeit one that morphed from a skydive to a roller coaster once I found an English speaker. Still, this is the sort of thing I need to do more often if I want to really feel as though I'm living here and not just working here. I think the trick may be to ask myself, "What's the worst that could happen?" and then not allow myself to imagine an answer.

After leaving the store I crossed the street and browsed through a multi-level (and seemingly very expensive) department store connected to the bus station. I went up a few levels thinking I might look through some nice suits I would never buy, but each level seemed to be more and more devoted to women's clothes, so I turned around and began descending before I went too high up and possibly found myself in a situation that could be embarrassing in any language...an unaccompanied male in the intimates department. This is the kind of anxiety I feel when I begin allowing myself to answer the "worst that could happen" question.

Once safely on the ground floor again I went over to the bus station and browsed through a few of the multitude of shops there, including my first visit to a Korean bookstore, where I was quickly greeted by this semi-familiar sight:

Fifty Shades of Grey in Korean

Ahhh...the power of marketing. Take a mass-market bodice ripper and print it as a trade paperback (I used to work at Borders..RIP) and you have a global phenomenon. I've read one of your paragraphs, book, before I knew what you were. I'm glad to see they keep you in plastic wrap here to protect unsuspecting book-browsers from the gagging that paragraph induced in me.

To be honest, I took this picture again to joke with my brother and decided to include it here in part to fulfill my promise of including more pictures and also on the off-chance that some 50 Shades fans might end up on this page, where they may then actually read to this point in the blog, where I will tell them, "I'm glad you read. If you enjoy 50 Shades you should check out some Zora Neale Hurston or Cormac McCarthy. Their Eyes Were Watching God or All the Pretty Horses might be good places to start. Or if you hated 50 Shades you may want to jump straight to Blood Meridian. It's sort of a reading cleanse diet. For a long time I remembered very little of what I had read in the months before reading McCarthy's Blood Meridian, and for a few months afterwards I had trouble focusing on what I attempted to read in its wake."

For those of you still with me (thank you for that, by the way!) I continued out of the bookstore and on to the ticket counters, which I stared at for about ten minutes, just reading through the destinations and schedules, imagining day trips I could take in the coming months, and how easily entertained I am by just riding on a bus and staring out the window at the landscape and thinking about how incredibly far I am from anywhere I've been before.

Then I wandered upstairs to the IMAX theater, grabbed a couple "The Expendables 2" brochures to mail to my brother Ethan, and spotted a Cold Stone Creamery and a Burger King.

With just a couple hours of good daylight left, I walked out of the bus station and turned west. I decided to walk along the front side of the KIA complex this time so I could take better pictures of it for Dylan to see.

KIA plant gate

Building at KIA plant in Gwangju

The plant stretches along several blocks and covers both sides of the road for the majority of that. KIA's website shows the locations of their plants, and according to it this plant covers nearly 1 million square meters and assembles commercial vehicles and buses, as well as some military vehicles.

When I had finally walked past the length of the plant and thought I was nearly home, I noticed a large sign in the middle of the sidewalk. Having some idea of what it said without really knowing what it said, I walked around it in trepidation. Sure enough, the sidewalk beyond the crosswalk was completely blocked off for construction work.

This is when it becomes very advantageous to live along a river. The Yeongsan River, as mentioned previously, runs through the city of Gwangju. It is considered one of the four major rivers of the Republic of Korea and is part of a trail system that was recently the subject of a major government project to revitalize riverside recreation in the country. A smaller tributary of the Yeongsan runs along City Hall near my apartment and up past the bus station and on to the base of Mudeung Mountain on the other end of the city. Anytime I get lost in Gwangju, it seems if I can find my way to the river, I can find my way home. Of course, I doubt this will ever really be an issue, but it is a comforting thought just the same. City Hall is downriver from just about everything in Gwangju, so if I get to the river and there's anything around me, I can follow it downstream and find my way back.

At the sidewalk closure I made a right turn and headed for a bridge. From that bridge I took the picture I used at the top of this post, and on the other side I found steps leading down to the riverside path.

A picture of he bridge from which I took the picture mentioned in the sentence above and shown at the top of the post, taken from the riverside path which I reached via this bridge

I first walked along a different portion of this path two weeks ago on a similar Sunday afternoon stroll, and was struck by how quiet and removed it seems compared to the sidewalks a mere ten meters away. When I lived in Boston I ran the paths along the Charles quite often. I loved running that, but it includes a lot of crosswalks and is usually about level with the busy roads alongside it. This path goes under the bridges and is often flanked with high vegetation in addition to being set below the roads to really make it feel separate from the surrounding city. It seems to be an ideal location to get back into my running routine.


I followed the path down to City Hall, which is where I began my walk and headed down river two weeks ago (without a camera). Downstream from there the path affords beautiful views of the surrounding mountains as the tributary runs into the Yeongsan as it continues on down toward Mokpo. From Mokpo there are ferries to Jeju and Shanghai.

The  riverside path from under the City Hall bridge, looking downstream

I've always lived right along a river. I grew up in towns bordering the Mississippi and imagined the journey the barges made to New Orleans on many occasions while crossing into Missouri. In addition to running along the Charles in Boston, I also often ran along the River des Peres (aka the sometimes-connected series of puddles des Peres) during the past year while living in the city of St. Louis. I was able to participate in the final Lewis and Clark Marathon along the Missouri River in St. Charles. Having the Yeongsan right here brings yet another element of familiarity to this experience and provides another possible avenue for diving into new and uncertain experiences here.

Looking upstream from the City Hall Bridge (City Hall complex on the right)

When I got back to Sangmu I ordered a chicken sandwich and fries to take back to my apartment for dinner while watching an episode of Mad Men. Baby steps.