안녕히가세요 (Goodbye) 2010

What a incredibly fast year this has been.

After sifting through my blog-posts from earlier this year, it seemed like it was only yesterday my parents arrived to visit from the States. With 2010 winding down in a few days, I suppose it's that time of the year again. A time to reflect upon the fleeting year, and of one's innate growth. When I first arrived, four hundred and five days ago (1 year, 1 month, 10 days), I was filled with uncertainty, and complex thoughts that swirled intricately inside my cerebrum. It was rather bitter-sweet. To have left the bird's nest, seeking adventure, and sensational opportunities. I was convinced that this was the best decision for me. Inspired by my colleagues who were abroad before me, I thought it was now or never.

So I eagerly arrived, hardly looking back. I'm not sure what it was, but I decided to simply look forward. Unknown to me at the time, and a bit foolish, I was tempted by the idea that I could be wholly independent, with a disregard for anyone else but myself. Classic textbook definition of selfishness. Perhaps, it was the solidarity that drove me, or the oceanic divide. Anyways, I lived with my Uncle for a few months, before that became a burden to the both of us. Maybe I wasn't "quite there." How naive of me it was to think that I could do everything on my own, that I had all the power in the world to direct my fate. I was too busy having fun, I didn't think twice about my Uncle and his family. It wasn't merely a learning moment, but a difficult time that tested me in every way possible. I wanted my forsaken independence. I didn't want to be bothered, nor woken up at 8 am everyday. The taste of freedom, and living with friends was still lingering in my mouth. In 1736, Benjamin Franklin wrote, "Fish and visitors smell in three days," this old adage couldn't have been farther from the truth. In any case you didn't catch on, I overstayed my visit. In retrospect, I'm embarrassed with my actions now more than ever. Times like these we wish for a time machine. We live, and learn. Well, before death catches up with us.

We parted ways, and I found myself a nice villa (standard one-bedroom apartment) approximately a minute's walk away from my school, or Academy, as the Korean's so eloquently put it here. Having my own place was liberating. Finally, the miserable winter cold thawed away to a brief week or two of the beautiful spring here. Sigh... if only it lasted longer. Before I knew it, it was summer, and I would begin my third term here (each term being approximately three months long). How reminiscent of those quarterly collegiate days, and bringing me to the last few months I spent at Costa Mesa, finding a pretty sweet Nishiki steel bike (who now sits alone in my garage back home), and biking around the hood with the Manistees. I was convinced I needed to find a bike out here, and after prowling around Craigslist for a few weeks, I managed to find a suitable white road bike from an expat who was in the market for a fixie. Thus, my training for the ensuing 100km rides would begin.

Pumping my feet; every rotation, every gear shift, every evasive maneuver was a powerful humanistic mechanism. I couldn't get enough. I was addicted. I couldn't stop. I rode day and night, up and down hills, thrashing through the bike paths, and streets reserved for four wheeled vehicles. Through the falls, scrapes, flat tires, and near death experiences, fate brought me to a local bike shop. I had run over three or four tiny nails that had punctured my tire and tore into the tubing. So I peeked in one day, and explained to the owner what had happened on my ride home. Within minutes, he had installed a new tube, promptly rejected any payments, and said it was "on the house." I thanked him, and I was ready to hit the pavement again. The next night I was back at it. Heading to the river after I got off of work at 10 pm. In the inescapable humidity of the summer, I would ride and ride until my legs gave out, my lungs searing for oxygen. I felt alive.

Eventually, the bike shop owner, who I named Lance (fitting for a cyclist enthusiast right?), and I became good friends, and after a few drunken nights with chicken and beer, and others with makkeuli, pa-jeun (seafood pancakes?), and whiskey, he convinced me to buy an even sweeter blue Trek Alpha aluminum bike that was sitting in store for an incredibly discounted price. It would have been heinous to reject his offer (which I did at first, but eventually I caved in after another few shots of whiskey).

Then fate sent me in another direction. I had joined a local facebook group dedicated to bikers in Seoul, and that was when I met Kelly. I had put an "ad" out seeking other cyclists who were in the neighborhood. Into cycling, photography, and an affinity for drinking, we were constantly competing against each other (we'll not so much with our photography, which could be another dissertation for another time). Whether it be on the bike path, fooseball, or drinking, it was a battle. Probably one of the craziest, spontaneous, and creative minds I've met in a while. We'll drink til 1 am, then he'll somehow convince me to drink 6,000W Budweisers at the record bar in Sincheon (which is probably one of the best bars I've been to in Seoul) and stay out until I couldn't stand on my own. One summer evening, while biking along the Han, we ended up on the complete other side of Seoul, and ended up buying tickets to Global Gathering (headliners including Justice, and Fatboy Slim) on a coin flip. Other times, we'll walk around Dongdaemun in the bitter cold trying to find a decent coffee shop. Or, talk to cute French majors in English by Hongdae University til 3 in the morning. Either way, it's been an absolute chaos. But it's sh*t like this (I kid), that proves not to take life too seriously, cause you'll never get out alive.

Aside from Lance and Kelly, there have been many other's who have made my time here in Seoul worthwhile, even if it was only a brief encounter, and I'm thankful for those days and nights as well. We've got another year to look forward to, so let's make it count. I'm also blessed to have extended family out here, who have helped and directed me in every way possible. My time here would have been incredibly more difficult had it not been for my relatives. For that I'm incredibly thankful. For the cherry on top, my mom flew in last week before Christmas, and brought with herself a suitcase full of my favorite goodies (cheese- gouda and cheddar, salami, 3 types of granola and cereal, 2 types of oatmeal, poptarts, chips ahoy, hot cheetos, my favorite brand of toothpaste, clam chowder and chicken noodle soup, cans of jalapenos, emergen-C, and drumroll................ 20 frozen tacos from King Taco with both sauces!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! By far the best Christmas present I have ever received in my life! It was like when I was in the second grade, and Santa dropped off a Lego set. I had to wipe away tears as I deeply inhaled the therapeutic aromas of one of these tacos. If that ain't love, I don't know what is. :D Thanks mom!!!!!!!

Well what an eventful year it's been. I've had my share of ups, and downs, and everything in between. And, I realize that this is only the beginning. It's in our interest to go out there each day with a smile on our face, and a positive attitude towards everything. That we should constantly be learning, and improving ourselves. Reaching deep into our inner most thoughts, and not being afraid to confront our demons. I'm fortunate to have this opportunity in Seoul, and I want to make sure I don't waste my time here. I've grown too comfortable with this type of lifestyle (not to say it's a bad thing), and I need to be more... productive with my spare time. Which brings us to today. I'm still working on Thoreau's Walden, but I am now teaching intensives (which are extra classes in the morning), and have found a private tutoring gig that keeps me busy throughout the week. On M-W-F, my mornings begin at 8 am, and I still get home at 10 pm. On T-TH I'll hit the snooze button a few more times, and don't have to teach until 1, but I still end at 10 pm. Absolutely ridiculous, I know. Nonetheless, I'm perfectly fine with this hectic lifestyle. I've had too many wasted mornings, and restless nights this past year. As always, with a new year, we bring in another set of resolutions, so here's my first one:

Be more productive.

At least, I've already started. ^^

Musing at Walden's pond

With the onslaught of the freezing winter, I've resorted to staying indoors and keeping myself busy through reading (we'll not completely). At the moment, I'm [still] reading Henry David Thoreau's Walden; or, Life in the Woods, attempting to dissect his moral and existential verbiage through his experiences out in the woods, away from civilization and society, living in a log cabin built with his own hands & farming purely off what the land had offered him, without a brute neighbor hammering away at his front porch. It is dense (albeit not as incomprehensible as the Republic by Plato), requiring me to read the same page multiple times, then having to go back a few pages to grasp the obviousness of the oblivious. One of his longer sentences was composed of 78 words. It wouldn't hurt to read his syntax thoroughly. As he implores, clearly, for us to follow him "into the woods," even I find it rather difficult to fathom such a life of solitude and simplicity.

I mean the longest I've been away from any remote elements of a civilization (developed, & third-world) was when I backpacked up the Pacific Coastline for 5 days by Humboldt County (CA) with good company. Nonetheless, it had never occurred to me that building a log cabin deep in our National parks and straying away from the sophistications of a civilized society (for years) was a feasible and attainable purpose in one's life. Don't get me wrong, I love everything that nature offers; unfortunate that even man's technology today cannot precisely replicate the sights, the sounds, the smells, the feels, and heck even the organic tastes of the outdoors. Rather it is something almost inadvertently neglected in our generation today. Instead we are the harbingers of destruction. Even then how would I survive out in Redwoods, without a hunting apparatus, a solid lodge, nor a sound knowledge of farming and agriculture - (except as a prerequisite that) - it would behoove you to have good soil, healthy seeds, an efficient irrigation system, compliant weather, and of course, the minimum requirement that you reap what you sow.

Instead, we tend our virtual gardens through such social media sites, complaining about minute tribulations of life, throwing in some facetious status about this & that, & playing our parts in this masquerade. Don't worry, you're not alone (though you still look good in that floral-print dress). It would be blasphemous to deny my involvement! Moving right along.

I've currently finished reading a section titled "Higher Laws" (within Walden). At the beginning of the passage, Thoreau is suddenly attracted to the idea of eating a passing woodchuck raw. The wanton, primitive, and carnivorous inner being in him, fiending to jump out. The innate animalistic conscious within us all, and the dualism of nature. Taking this passage into context (which was written about ~150 years ago), he makes a comparison of hunting to the beginning stages of man's right of passage, & how the hunters were once regarded as the "best men" of their time. But, that when the hunter finds the "better life in him," he would be able to "leave the gun and fish-pole behind." The search for divinity, and/or spirituality through simplicity. Can you imagine going out into the woods with a crossbow and hunting for your dinner? I can't. Plus, I think he leans towards vegetarianism, because he makes a point of how the fish aren't necessarily "clean, nor filling," with the bonus kicker being that if you stop eating other animals you've transcended, or become superior to, those that do. I don't know about you Thoreau, but I absolutely love Korean bbq, and seafood (especially 회/raw rish/sashimi/膾) WHAT I'D DO FOR SOME HAMACHI RIGHT NOW, KOREA HOOK IT UP!!!!!!!! Thoreau, your Transcendentalism won't stop me from delicious eats!

Anyways (at least for now).

This roll is a compilation of a few random events from the past two weeks: really (really, really) the final shot of the autumn, being a sucker for whitish/blonde asian women in magazine spreads alongside mexican food, random street photography, capturing intimate bookstore moments, delicious eats, a beautiful mother and daughter, some random subway photography, flea market hustlers [(side note): The flea market's here get straight ridiculous. I mean it must have been like 1 or 2 degree celsius outside, yet the masses looking for cheap finds (err.. 'one man's trash is another's treasure' applicable here) made their presence known], analog murders (via 12fv), more eats, coffee shop shenanigans, and even more delicious eats and coffee shop shenanigans (21 photos).



What a random set.

"All that he could think of was to practise some new austerity, to let his mind descend into his body and redeem it, and treat himself with ever increasing respect."

-Thoreau
 
 
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Autumn's End, pt. Duex

Autumn is truly a beautiful season here in Korea.

Anyone who has witnessed such beauty could attest to it, I guarantee it. Having experienced my first autumn here, I have to say that it was quite an alluring sight seeing the lush greens transform into the ablaze hues. As quick as these seasons come, they go, & now the rustic red, yellow, and brown leaves have given way to the icy and jagged white flakes of the winter.

What a crazy week it's been!

North Korea, behind Kim Jong-Il and his stubby fingered, trigger happy generals, just fiending for hell to break loose on the Peninsula need to relax, or just take a vacation somewhere. Who really knows what the true reason behind the attack was. I mean even those working for the propaganda offices probably didn't even know why the artillery shells were fired in the first place. Goebbels would have disapproved. Maybe it was the "hey-it's-winter-time-and-we-didnt-harvest-much-if/any-crops-so-we-need-more-rice-and-aid-here," maybe "hey-where-still-a-force-to-be-reckoned-with," OR "hey-kim-jong-un-wants-to-prove-to-the-regime-that-he-is-x-to-the-core." Whatever it was, the Republic of Korea seemed to be at high alert only momentarily. Since then, the initial distresses have more or less subsided, and everyone has resumed normal activity. The calm before the storm? Whatever that means... I always thought crazy winds and rain down-poured before the storm hit...

Anyways, I registered with the U.S. Embassy here just in case. Though I'm carrying around my passport around town, I'm going to take it a day at a time, & if anything happens, I've got no one else to blame except myself for willingly flying 5956 miles (or if you prefer, 9585 km) within 30 miles of the DMZ, and prior knowledge of NK's volatile, defunct, cold-war era shenanigans. Darn-it, the irony is impeccable!

More importantly I spent a quick 43 minutes at the Costco and loaded up on some American delights. Honey nut Cheerios, seedless grapes, sliced turkey with 3 different cheeses (cheddar, provolone, & feta), whole grain wheat bread, bratwurst, salami, & of course the muffins!!! I probably would have done more damage, but I arrived 43 minutes before closing time. If anyone wants to have a wine, cheese, and salami night at my place, consider it done! (I promise not to open the cheddar if you tell me within the next few days!!!)

A busy weekend kept me from posting this earlier, but I suppose it's always better late than never.

These pictures were taken a few weeks ago during a weekday morning bike ride through Olympic Park near Jamsil, and during a weekend bike ride by the Han River, passing alongside Cheonggyecheon (청계천), trekking up to the hills behind Gyeongbokgung Palace, perusing through Insadong, and eventually ending up back by 청계천 where the Seoulites had gathered en masse for one last visitation to the Lantern Festival that was coming to an end.



bracing myself for the winter,
 
 
pax
 
 
 

Music, Photography, & Hiking

Happy Birthday to my great friend, and ex-garage-mate: 12FV

Been on a Vodka & Milk binge lately.

I find it difficult to post music here, especially after it's been posted in a million other blogs, but sometimes it's too hard to resist. Having recently discovered V&M, the beats have me flailing my arms, while fisting pumping through imaginary crowds, like a drug-induced lunatic, separated from all sorts of reality, inside my villa. It makes sense to move, or at the very least go with the 130+ bpm. I wonder if the cowbells have anything to do with it? It's probably just the synths.

Two Door Cinema Club - What You Know (Vodka & Milk Remix) by Vodkandmilk

Tupac - Do For Love (Vodka & Milk Remix) by Vodkandmilk


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One of my students called me 'analog' today.

I had the w i d e s t smile on my face.

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I love Fridays.

Not so much that they have a reputation for bringing in the weekend, but rather how my schedule plays out against their prototypical design. I have the luxury of not having to wake up at 7 am, but I did a few weeks ago to go hiking with my Aunt at 금암산(金巖山), 하남시, on the outskirts of Eastern Seoul. It was a beautiful morning, and had I realized that before I loaded the Fujifilm Neopan 400 (b&w), I might have just thrown in my sturdy Fujifilm Superia 200 or 400. But after looking through these pictures, I realize that b&w can be so much more meaningful to a film photographer than an explosion of color. So having awakened up a lot earlier than usual, I was a bit perplexed and disoriented, but I made my way out to Myeong-il Station in Dogok-dong to meet my Aunt in front of the Paris Baguette by the alloted time (can't say the bread's of français de qualite, but sometimes their baguettes make it worthwhile).

We drove for about 35-30 minutes to the base of 금암산(金巖山), where we paid a small entrance fee, and parked as far away as possible from the trail gate. With my earbuds plugged in snuggly, we started our ascent. The golden leaves carpeted the rocky trail, providing ample cushioning under our boots, yet covert and slippery as the night fox. Fortunately for us, the climb was not too congested, though when we did bump into a few passerby's, Korea's hiking culture of "dressing to tackle Mt. Everest on any given Sunday" was in full-effect. From the spit-spat shiny boots, to the breathable gortex pants, Northface jacket, and carbon trekking poles, these hikers take hiking seriously. There's no respect for those climbing in jeans and a hoodie.

My Aunt is usually extremely happy go lucky, and I have never seen her so distraught with something going on in her life (Then again, I've only seen her perhaps a handful of times). She's a devout Catholic. A benevolent house-wife, full of innocence, with an exuberance for life. Yet that morning a cloud of sadness seemed to be circling over her head. But as we made our way up, she seemed to forget what was going on in her life a few hundred meters below. How a hike can easily evaporate any traces of stress, sadness, and sedentariness. Another advice: Hiking is an amazing stress reliever.

After stopping briefly a few times to refresh our thirst, we finally made it to the top after two and a half hours! There was a vendor selling Makgeuli, instant ramen, and boiled eggs. Since I had to work later in the afternoon, we decided to forgo the Makgeuli. We found a prime spot to enjoy our celebratory snacks. While we were slurping up noodles, and peeling off the eggshells, I noticed that there were some other hikers crowded around the side of a railing, squeaking, whistling gibberish, trying to get something's attention. A split-second later, I hear a woman's high-pitched shriek, as if she was shocked having just seen the most horrific thing in her life, or perhaps it was purely overzealous excitement? After looking carefully, I noticed that there were a flock of small birds gathering around, intrigued by the human players in their natural habitat. But it wasn't us they were interested in, rather, it was the morsel of bread that was in their hands. I remembered at that point that I had some red-bean bread saved (ironically from Paris Baguette), so I broke up a few small pieces and put them in my Aunt's hand.





it was as if...






... an Angel had landed on her palm...
 
 
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