Video now included

Today is our last day of class before vacation. It was a half day for our morning kids, but we still have kids until 7pm tonight. Two weeks ago, we were told that today would be "Acting It Out Day". All of our classes would have to prepare a song and memorize lines to perform in front of the rest of the classes. This was partly rather simple, and partly rather annoying. All of my classes have songs and memorization built into the curriculum, apart from my last class, which is 6th/7th grade. The problem comes with having students memorize specific parts well enough to perform them in front of their peers in two weeks, while continuing on with the curriculum we'd planned, including tests, homework, etc.

My kindergarten classes did fine this morning, since I have them every day for 4 thirty-minute sessions. We had three kids absent today, and they still managed to re-learn all their lines, and remember a song we hadn't sung in about three weeks as well as the one we've been practicing that they choreographed themselves (the audio's pretty bad, but that's what you get with video from a camera):

My afternoon classes, however, I've been struggling with. I only see them for 45 minutes, and three of the classes are only three days a week instead of five. The stories have 5 characters in them, so it's hard to assign 'parts', and for me to remember them for all the classes. So I had to create a script for each class. Partly so they could take them home and memorize them, and partly so I could remember whose line was next to prompt them if necessary (this, by the way, is on top of the weekly lesson plans, monthly lesson plans, and monthly progress reports for 5 classes and 60 kids that were due today). My first two afternoon classes had their song and their parts down pat, but my other kids, well... to say they needed prompting is an understatement. Especially my oldest group. Anyone who works with middle school kids would understand the look of "you've got to be kidding" when I told them they would have to stand up in front of the other classes and recite their parts. From memory. And my severe displeasure with them when the two youngest in the class had memorized their parts, intonation and all, and the three oldest hadn't even tried.

Soo.... after lunch, Julie tells us that for the first class, we're not going to do the first class, and then second class watch a movie. Meaning no acting out. This is slightly annoying, as the lesson plan for all but one of my afternoon classes was to practice for acting it out. Then she decides since so many kids are absent (it is, after all, a Friday at 4pm before vacation), there will be no lessons, just the movie for both periods. For all the classes for the rest of the day. Now mind you, I spent a lot of time with all my classes getting them to practice, and reminding them they would be performing in front of their peers on Friday. With some of my classes, I'm relieved. I'm also annoyed that I spent so much of my time, and theirs, preparing for something that didn't happen.

The other problem is I had a unit test planned for my last class today. It was supposed to be their first big test since I've had them, and now not only do I not have a test grade to put on their evaluations for the month, but I'm going to have to spend Monday reviewing since they will have forgotten everything over the break, and have them take the test on Wednesday. This pushes my lessons for the month back by almost a week. Again, rather annoying.

(5 minutes later)

Julie just informed me that the 5:30 class is going to have class the first lesson and then watch the movie afterwards. This is partly because James was going to have his test, regardless of what the other classes were doing. At this point, all the Korean teachers have left. Normally they would have class from 6:15-7:00, but one of them had a plane to catch, one of them had a Bible study or something, and I don't know where the third one went. But they were all out of here by 4. So. Now I will still give my test, but Julie will administer the test to the two students that are absent later so I don't have to re-write my lessons. And I will leave at 6:15, whether my evaluations are done or not.

Aisha.

Meegugin vs Weegugin vs Hangugin (미국인 vs 외국인 vs한국인)

I had been told by the other English teachers that I work with that they often get children who call them Meegugin (미국인) or Weegugin (외국인) (also pronounced meegukin or weegukin, depending on your pronunciation). A meeguk is a person from America, and a weeguk is a foreigner. Conversely, a hangukin (한국인) is a Korean person. Apparently this isn't just like children pointing out that someone has on a funny hat or looks different. It's actually rude to call someone either of these names, though we often call ourselves 미국 to differentiate us from Canadians, etc. The main reason it's rude, is that the children think we don't know what they're saying. It's akin to calling someone a name in a foreign language right in front of them, just because you think they won't understand you. I hadn't actually encountered this until today.

I was in the elevator on my way back up to work, and there were two children in the car with me. Just before it got to my floor, I heard the word weegugin come from the one closest to me. I turned to look at him, and they were both looking at me and giggling. So as I got off the elevator, I patted the one who spoke on the head, and said "Hangukin", and then walked out. I didn't see their faces, but they both stopped giggling. 

(and yes, I can read a little bit of Korean now! 아싸 !)

By-the-by

I know some people that read this blog had requested that they be e-mailed whenever I had a new post. I just found the setting that allows me to have up to 10 e-mail addresses notified whenever there's a new one. I've already put three addresses on the list, so if anyone else is interested, just leave me a comment here, send me a note or an e-mail with the address and I'll add the first 7 requests that I get. 

If you're a little more technically savvy, you can also subscribe to the RSS feed with the link at the bottom of this page. This will update your feed list, but not your inbox. 

Also, next week is my first week of vacation. This Friday and Saturday I'll be going to the beach for 2 days with Adventure Korea, and then I'll be exploring random places throughout the week. I think my first stop will be the Korean Folk Village. I just got my Lonely Planet guide today, so I'm going to sort through it and find some interesting places to visit next week. I'll probably have quite a few updates next week, so keep your eyes peeled!

A stream of conscienceness that flows with direction

I have been asked on multiple occasions since I got to Korea if I'm 'happy'. It's a deceptively simple question. The short answer is yes, but the long answer is better.

One of my friends has a saying: "content without perfection". I don't know if it's hers originally, but I credit her with introducing it to me. Regardless of where it comes from, it seems to fit my situation rather well at the moment.

My life is not perfect. It's quite far from it, though to be honest I really couldn't tell you what a perfect life for me would be. I know that debt free would be a big part of that, but that's something that I'm realistically working my way towards. Not only am I making strides towards it, but I'm doing it on my own, without loans or help from anyone else. There's something about the accomplishment of doing something entirely on your own that can't be replaced by anything else. And though I'm far from removing debt from my life completely, I've managed to remove one large debt to a close friend, and within a few months will have repaid a debt to my parents that's been a long time coming. After these two debts are wiped clean, I can concentrate solely on my student loans, which have been hanging over my head for the past 5 years or so.

And though debt was a large reason I came to Korea, it wasn't the only one. I wasn't happy in Florida, though I did make the best of my situation and developed some close friendships. I moved from city to city when the opportunity arose, partly to further my career, and partly to remove myself from the bad habits and temptations that seemed to be popping up left and right. One of these bad habits I was able to kick last year - I quit smoking as a Christmas present to my parents. Though I still get the urge quite often, if I do smoke now it makes me sick, so I have an even stronger aversion to it now. So I knew I wanted to leave Boca Raton, but I just didn't know where. I thought that Tampa was where I wanted to be, but there were still some residual temptations there that more than likely would have pulled me where I didn't need to go. And of course Korea seemed to come out of nowhere for me, but this place feels more like home to me than Boca ever did.

I tried when I first got to Boca in '06 to wander around, see what was there, and just explore my surroundings. I would get on the highway and just drive, or wander down back alleys and streets on the weekend just to see where they would take me. I rarely found anywhere of note. So I stopped looking. I even stopped going to the beach at night, which was a place I found powerfully peaceful. But here, it's completely different. I find something new literally every day. Just last week, I found out that there's a moving fountain in the river just a few blocks downriver from me, that at night has an LED light show. There's steps on the bank where you can sit and watch, or you can go out on the stepping stones and watch it from the middle of the river. It's beautiful, and I wouldn't have even known it was there except I got off the bus one stop too early. It's the little things like this that I absolutely treasure.

So though I may not have a lot of material posessions, and I live very simply in a simple studio, I am still able to surround myself with things that I love. But that's what seems to have changed - it's not 'things' anymore so much as people and experiences. I got to play in the mud for a weekend and feel like a kid again. I got to eat fresh seafood straight from the sea and find out that it pops and shells explode when they get too hot. I got to give 5 little 4 year olds a giant group hug because they all drew me birthday cards. I get to see mountains every day. I'm learning a new language that's not based on Roman letters, which means I actually have to think when I'm reading something, instead of just seeing it. I got to wander around in a massive underground mall and then splash around in the rain for a little bit before coming home. I got to go to a bar that looks more like an igloo and hang out with a bunch of expats for my birthday. I let tiny fish eat my feet.  

I also get stared at on a consistent basis by strangers, partly because I'm foreign, partly because I'm not a size 10 or below, and partly because I have tattoos. I've realized that I'm priveleged, not because I'm white, or middle class, but because I grew up in America, in an English speaking, free country. I know I was hounded with the propaganda as a child: "You're so lucky to live in a country where your freedoms are protected, like free speech, and freedom of religion". And of course I took those things for granted, because I didn't experience any other way, I just knew it existed. Here, children don't really have the option to rebel against their parents, or their culture. At home, even if you're rebelling, you're usually rebelling with someone else. The punk kids, the emo kids, the goth kids, or whatever group seemed to be different from what was acceptable to your parents, they had friends that shared their beliefs and feelings, however misplaced they may have been. When I dyed my hair black and wore boots and dog collars to school, and painted my face white, there were a dozen or more kids that were even more 'hardcore' than me. I wasn't alone. Here, there are few if any rebels, because there's no haven for them. Everyone is the same, and if you disrespect your parents by getting a tattoo, or wearing inappropriate clothing, the consequences are much more dire than having your keys or your credit card taken away. Life may not be fair for your average teenage American, but they certainly have more options than most of the rest of the world.

I see things every day that remind me how priveleged I am. I don't ever know what people around me are saying, but often my friend Cherita does. She likes to tell me when people are talking about my tattoos and what they're saying. If it's an older person it's usually along the lines of "I can't believe she has tattoos. Her mother must be mortified." If it's a younger person, it's usually one of them asking their friend what their parents would say if they got a tattoo as big as mine (and mind you, mine are not considered big in the American ink world at all). If it's the former, I would dearly love to tell them that though my mother doesn't approve of them and doesn't really like them, she still loves me. If it's the latter, I'd like to tell them that I didn't get my first tattoo until I was 18 and out of the house, when it had nothing to do with my parents or their approval or dissaproval, but it was something I wanted to do for myself. Since then, my ink has become not only a personal artistic expression for me, but a way for me to chronicle my life and the people closest to me. Though they may not like being immortalized in ink, but it's the most personal and most profound way that I can express how important someone or something is to me - to have it permanently applied to my skin, it'd better be darn important.

Ok, so I really didn't mean to go off on a tangent there, but it seemed relevant. I am allowed to do things, and be things, and have things that other people simply cannot, just because I'm American. Because I speak English, my rent is paid for me, my plane ticket was paid for, and I am paid a higher salary than my Korean coworkers, who still have to pay their own rent. It's not fair, but such is life. So as I said before, my life is far from perfect. But I am reminded almost every day that I'm at a point now where I can be truly content. Without perfection. 

Birthday Shennanigans

I got to celebrate my birthday twice this year. At school, we have a montly birthday party for all the kids with birthdays that month. This month's happened to fall on my actuall birthday, so I was 'forced' to participate. 

Cherita, James and I went to Dr. Fish after work and I enjoyed their company with tea and little fish. And then Friday night, I went out with them again and met up with some of James' friends to celebrate three birthdays - mine, James', and a friend of his. We spent the whole night out in Handae. Most places here stay open until 4am or later because the metro doesn't start running again after midnight until 5:30 am. I especially enjoyed two places we went to. The first one was Oi, which had some very cool architecture:

The second place was Studio 80's which played American 80's music until 4:30am. So I danced to Depeche Mode, Madonna, INXS, the Pointer Sisters, Men At Work, and dozens of others until the wee hours of the morning. I caught the first metro home, and crashed around 8am and slept all day. All in all a wonderful birthday weekend.

"I'm Not As Dirty As You Think"

This was the slogan on quite a few of the t-shirts that I saw at the Boryeong Mud Festival that I went to this past weekend. It's an annual festival that runs for two weekends each summer at Daecheon Beach, which is apparently a sleepy little town a few hours south of Seoul for the other 50 weeks out of the year. 

I went with Adventure Korea, which basically meant that I had paid ahead for a coach bus there and back from the Express Bus Terminal, and lodging for the night. This particular trip didn't have meals included. We had to be at the EB terminal at 8am, which is an hour metro ride and a 20 minute bus ride away from me, which meant being at the bus station at 6am. Oddly enough, when my alarm rang at 5am, I got up without hitting the snooze button once. Why is it that I can't do that on the weekdays? Anyway, we got there a few minutes early, hoping to find a coffee shop or something open at the bus terminal. Apparently nothing at that stop is open until 10am, even the coffee shop whose doors were open, lights were on, and the music was playing at 8:05. So I had to settle for some horrible kimbop (rice rolled in seaweed) from a street vendor, which I ended up giving to Cherita because it had some sort of pickled radish in the middle of it that was just gross. 

The bus ride was fine - there were three chartered buses coming from the EB terminal, so of course we left about half an hour late. I suppose that's to be expected when you have over a hundred 20-somethings all having to get up at dawn. They told us on the bus that we were to check into the hotel once we got there, and that at 1:30 we needed to be back at the hotel and hosed off so we could get back on the bus to do the extreme sports. Our group (James, Cherita and I) decided we'd rather stay where we were and meet up with our partner teachers, who were only able to come down for a  few hours the first day. And since our room, as well as most of the rooms on the second floor, were still occupied, we left our bags at the front with one of the 'tour guides' and headed off to get lunch.

We met up with our partner teachers, Ally, Gina, and Sylvia, and decided to eat at a seafood place right on the beach. We got what would be the equivalent of a shellfish platter. There are large tanks outside all the seafood places with every kind of different seafood, live, that you can think of. They lit a charcoal in the pit in the middle of the table, put a grill over it, and then proceeded to cover it in live mussels, conch, clams, shrimp, and a few other shell creatures that I couldn't name. When the shells popped open, they were done, and we ate them right out of the shells - with chopsticks of course. I would have taken pictures of this amazing meal, but my batteries had died on the bus, and I couldn't find the extras that I'd brought with me just in case. At one point, the shells started exploding, and little bits of hot shell were being propelled at our faces. I'm guessing this is why we were all given aprons. Every time we would clear off the grill, or start to get close, they would bring us even more. After a while, we had to tell them to stop because we were all getting full. 

After lunch, the Korean teachers went off on their own while we went to go put our bags into our hotel room. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with a bare floor, a tv, and a tiny dresser with a pile of blankets and pillows on it. There were no beds. I'm pretty sure there's not a single hotel in America that could get away with having a hotel with no beds, but apparently this is a standard cheap hotel in Korea. Talk about paying for just the roof over your head. 

So then we headed out for the mud! The few pictures that I do have from the first day are from James' camera. He put it in a ziploc bag to keep it from getting mud on it, so the pictures are a bit fuzzy, but you still get the idea.

We got ourselves covered in the Mud Tub, and then James and Kate and I went for a few rounds of mud wrestling, which looked something like this, only with about twice as many people:

We pretty much spent the rest of the day bouncing between playing around in the mud, and washing off in the ocean, then getting muddy again. We had dinner at a golbi place since we weren't in the mood for anymore seafood, and spent the evening on the beach drinking, eating, people watching, and waiting for the fireworks. We were told the fireworks would be around 10pm, so we waited until 10:45 and decided to head back to the rooms since we were exhausted. And of course, they started right after we had left our perfect spot on the beach. By this point I had bought some batteries for my camera since the extras I brought that I found in my bag were, of course, dead as well. 

As soon as the fireworks were over, we headed off to bed. We had to be checked out of our room by 11, so we got up a little earlier than we would have liked - 8am. So we went to get brunch at Lotteria, the Korean version of McDonalds, and took a few pictures while we were out.

 

The Mud Prison, one of the easier ways to get covered

We went and got muddy on the beach for a few hours, did a few more bouts of mud wrestling, and then rinsed off so we could pack up our room and put our things on the bus. After making sure we had everything out, we headed out again for more muddiness.

Cherita and me. She didn't really want to get muddy the second day.

Kate and me. We met her outside the hotel and she hung around with us most of the weekend

Cherita, James and me. The three English teachers at EWAS

We had to be back on the bus by 3:50 (of course we didn't leave until almost 4:30), so we rinsed off outside and I changed in one of the public restrooms near the bus parking lot. It's the first time I've been in a squatting bathroom. No toilet, just a porcelin hole in the ground that flushes. It makes it a bit easier to change when there isn't a toilet taking up most of the stall, but I was mortified at the prospect that I might end up dropping my clean clothes on the floor. I really hope I don't have to use one of those again, but that's all they have in the subway stations. So we got on the bus and made it home just fine. I'm a bit sunburned, but mostly just sore from the wrestling and sleeping on the floor. I can't wait to go back next year. :)

That's what I get for giving in

Ice cream. I've been wanting it for a month. I was a little leery, since I'd heard they had rather odd flavors here, so I hadn't actually ventured out to try any. I had actually made the trip to the corner store to get some a few weeks ago, but ended up coming back with dried squid instead (don't ask). But this time I was determined. So I was sorting through the VERY limited selection (I think there were 10 tubs total, about 4 different varieties), and came accross what looked like mint chocolate chip.

I looked to see if there was any English on the container, since one of them had said walnut, on what I would have sworn was vanilla. I'm pretty sure that the large white letters are pronounced too-geh-dah, but that doesn't mean anything to me. I even checked to make sure those looked like little mint leaves on the side. Everything looked like it was on the up-and-up, so I purchased it and walked the two blocks home. 

I open it up, take out my spoon and take a few bites. It's different, but then again I wasn't expecting Bryers or Haggen Daaz or anything. But there seemed to be something a little off. I figure maybe they have a different strain of mint here, but there's something oddly familiar about what I'm tasting. And then it hits me. Those aren't little chocolate chips in there. Those are whole red beans. Red beans and mint ice cream. I've had the red bean cookies here, which are more like little puffed donuts filled with red bean paste. The paste itself is actually pretty good, but whole red beans still preserve their 'beanie-ness', and hence rather ruined the indulgence for me. Oh well.

More Adventures in Korea

Adventure Korea is now one of my more visited websites. (Click on the name to visit their site). I just signed up for two more adventures (I'm going with them to the Mud Festival tomorrow).

I have one of my weeks of vacation coming up (the other one is at Christmas, and I'm wrestling with going home or staying here) at the end of the month. So the first adventure I'm going on is the Summer Special Trip at the beginning of my week off, July 26th-27th. We're going to Doripo Beach on the western coast. A chartered bus, 2 meals, accomodations, and experience fees are all included for two days for less than 100,000 won (about $100).

We're going to travel to a small islet by boat and will do net fishing (in a traditional Korean way), clam digging, octopus picking, and swimming. And we get to eat the seafood that we catch right away. Pretty cool, huh? We'll also visit the Muan White Lotus Festival, where we'll take a boat ride along the lotus flowers road, make onion-kimchi (yuck!), and taste various foods made with lotus like lotus ice cream, lotus tea, lotus sandwiches, lotus-wrapped rice and lotus beer as well. (Should be very interesting...)

The second trip I'm taking is to the DMZ on Saturday, August 23rd. It's a day trip to Imjingak, which is as far as civilians can go to the North by themselves without permission, the 3rd tunnel, the Dora Observatory, and Tongilchon, one of two villages inside the DMZ.

And of course I'll be posting pictures from both of these. I can't wait!

Strange and Wonderful Things

I made a few discoveries today that I have to share. The first goes under my mental list of "awesome" things here that don't exist back home.
I'm usually bad with money, but I'm actually very good about keeping up with my check book. I'm not one of those people that will stand at the checkout and enter the total into my book, but I will go home, sort through all my receipts each night, and check what's in my checkbook against what's cleared on my account online. So after having to switch to a different bank, KB, because the first bank, ShinHan, wouldn't give me a check card, only an ATM card (which really defeats the purpose of having an account, don't you think?), I stopped by the ATM to check my balance since I got paid today. As I'm carefully looking through the menu options, I notice an 'Update Passbook' button. And I look a little more closely at the ATM, and notice that not only is there a place for cash, for your card, and for the receipt, but a place to enter your passbook, which is like a checkbook, but has your account information printed on it. So I hit the button, insert my passbook, and without even inserting my card, the ATM scans my passbook, determines what's already been printed and where, and then prints all of the transactions on my account since the last entry! How cool is that?!? Imagine being able to go to a Bank of America ATM, inserting your checkbook, and having the bank print all your missing entries. It's almost like a portable quickbooks or something.
Completely unrelated, but also wonderful, I found a tiny little shop in the metro station that sells body jewelry. They also do piercings, but it can't be sanitary. Imagine getting pierced in the subway station... uck. Anyway, they have a bunch of earrings that are my size (they go by millimeters here and not gauges), so if I loose mine, I know where to get replacements.

So tomorrow is Friday, and then I have to be at the metro station at 5am on Saturday. We're going with Adventure Korea to the Mud Festival. We're taking a chartered bus from the express bus station to Boreyung, where I'm going to spend the weekend at the Mud Festival. I'm really looking forward to it, and if I can keep my camera from getting too muddy, I'll post pictures next week.

Edit: I forgot to write about the Strange Things I encountered as well. It was in my lunch. Or to be more exact, it was my lunch. What was it you ask? Minnows. You know those little tiny fish that swim in shallow water? Yeah, those. They're dried, and caramelized. In soy sauce. I ate them in my rice. Other than the obvious squeemishness I encountered while eating little dried fish with their eyes still intact, they're actually not that bad on rice. Much better than the sponge-like substance that was in my soup today. When I say sponge, it was like they cut up a dish sponge, baked it in mushroom water, and then handed it to me in a bowl. Lovely.

Culture Shock, or the lack thereof

I had been warned by a few people that I would experience culture shock. According to wikipedia (not the source of all information, but still it's faster than most sites), culture shock consists of three phases:

shock (moving to a foreign country) often consists of distinct phases, though not everyone passes through these phases and not everyone is in the new culture long enough to pass through all three[3]:

The "Honeymoon Phase" - During this period the differences between the old and new culture are seen in a romantic light, wonderful and new. For example, in moving to a new country, an individual might love the new foods, the pace of the life, the people's habits, the buildings and so on.

The "Negotiation Phase" - After a few days, weeks, or months, minor differences between the old and new culture are resolved. One may long for food the way it is prepared in one's native country, may find the pace of life too fast or slow, may find the people's habits annoying, etc.

The "Everything is OK" phase - Again, after a few days, weeks, or months, one grows accustomed to the new culture's differences and develops routines. By this point, one no longer reacts to the new culture positively or negatively, because it no longer feels like a new culture. One becomes concerned with basic living again, as one was in their original culture.

Reverse Culture Shock - Returning to one's home culture after growing accustomed to a new one can produce the same effects as described above.

Last night I had a dream, where I was homesick. I couldn't get over the fact that I couldn't get frozen waffles, or read a menu in a restaurant. I missed being able to see my family, and trying on shoes my size, instead of 3 sizes too small. I missed the unconscious act of reading every single sign I passed by, instead of seeing symbols that I can barely pronounce, let alone read. I missed knowing that at a moments notice, I could hop in my car and drive to see my parents, or sisters, or friends for a special occasion, including the arrival of a new member into the family. I was crying hysterically, and flew back home immediately, just to hug my family. And then I woke up. It took me a minute to realize that I wasn't actually homesick. Yes, I feel frustrated at times that I can't read anything, and I can't shop for shoes within the country. Yes of course I miss my family and friends. I miss the independence of having a car.

But I don't miss the insurance bills, or the gas money. I've discovered the new independence of the public transportation system. I may not be able to tell where all the buses are going, but I know which ones to take to get me to the places I want to go. And at this point, that's all I need. And soon I will take the first bus that comes along and ride it as far as possible, just to see where it goes. The same with the metro. I don't miss feeling like I'm dragging myself out of bed in the morning to go to work, now I feel like I get to sleep in every day. The language is logical, and the grammar is simple. I'm excited to be learning a new and exotic language again, even though my mind constantly slips back into French when I try to speak it, mostly because it's the only foreign language I've ever known. I feel like I'm a student again, something I've missed for the past three years. I'm learning about a new culture, through total immersion. Yes, I am a foreigner here (they call it mee-gook). I'm reminded of it every day with the stares I get from people, and the lack of complete comfort in my surroundings.

But for some reason, I know that everything will be just fine. When I first arrived in Uijeongbu, I got off at the wrong bus stop. I didn't know a single word of Korean, despite my studying, and no one really spoke English. I didn't have any way to contact anyone here, aside from the fact that I'd never met anyone whose name I knew. I hadn't even written down the phone numbers of my contacts. But I still managed to get home and get settled. Without crying.

I think that first experience helped me to realize, once and for all, that no matter where I am, or what I'm doing, I can take care of myself. I can get to where I need or want to go, and I don't need anyone to help me do it.  Even in a foreign country. And now I want to continue to test my limits. See what I'm really capable of. I've become settled here within a month. I know I went through the 'honeymoon phase', because everything still fascinates me. Just because I can live my life on my own doesn't mean that I'm lonely, or want to spend the rest of it living by myself. But for now, I'm content with being independent, and exploring the new world that's been shown to me.

Always...no....Never...climb a mountain in flip-flops.

I've been eyeing this mountain for a month. I can see it from my desk at work, and in between the sky-scraper apartments while walking around town. I finally decided today as we were getting ready to leave that today was the day. I was told there were several paths you can take, and Cherita took me to the base of the mountain, which is very near her apartment. Mind you, I'm still dressed in my jeans, t-shirt, and flip-flops, along with my bag from work. But I figure, I'll try it. If I can't get that far, I'll just turn back and tackle it another day, with the proper clothing. But at least I know where the path is now. So I started to walk.

It was very scenic at first, and reminded me a bit of my parent's place up in Georgia. As I continued to walk, it started to get a bit steeper. 

And I got winded rather quickly. My calves started to hurt, in some places I would guess the angle was 50 degrees or more. Now I know why so many Korean women wear heels. They're nothing compared to walking up the side of a mountain (which is a national past-time. they sell hiking gear in HP like Walmart sells bikes and soccer balls). There were a few plateaus, one of which had an interesting mound, but I couldn't read the sign.

So I kept climbing. Mostly because I wanted to see how far I could go in flip-flops. And because I wanted to see if I could see my house from the top. I didn't make it to the top, partly because it was starting to get late and I didn't want to get caught on a mountain path at night with no flashlight. But I did get to see a great view:

My apartment is behind that little red building near the middle of the picture, which is a school. So after getting my fill of the view, and catching my breath, I started back down. That's when it got a bit tricky. Walking up dirt, gravel, and stone is one thing. Walking down is much harder. There are a few sections that have rope tied to the trees, but they're few and far between.

I almost slipped twice, so when I got to some of the bigger slopes with loose gravel, I decided it'd be easier to sit and scoot than to try and walk down. It worked, to an extent. I didn't fall, but I didn't realize how sharp the rocks were and how old my pants were, so one of my two pairs of jeans that I brought with me is no longer useable as they have a giant hole in them. Thankfully no one was behind me, and my shirt was long enough to cover me until I got to Cherita's house, where I borrowed a skirt for the 15 minute walk back home. So now I know (and knowing is half the battle) that I should come prepared next time with proper shoes and better pants. I can't wait to go back in the winter when it's snowing.