When in Doubt, "High Five" (Strangers and Stories part 2)

"Seoul is the grinning devil on your shoulder that whispers 'play'. Its teeming night markets, 24-hour barbecues and surging clubs all beg the question 'Why sleep?' - The opening sentence in Lonely Planet's Seoul City Guide

For the past few months I have been on a quest for experiencing as much of this city as I possibly can. Some have called it over-compensating, others a need for distractions. Whatever. Some of these experiences are so strange I have no idea what to do. Usually, I just let my loss for words communicate my complete confusion. Not this time.

A while back a scientist from Japan visited our department to give a seminar. Whenever a visiting scientist gives a seminar, the rest of his or her time is scheduled to meet with faculty to discuss science one-on-one. At night a few faculty are selected to take the speaker to dinner. I was one of those selected.

We went to a Bulgarian restaurant in Itaewon which was very good. At the end of the meal we were discussing what we should do next. Since we were in Itaewon, it was decided I should choose our next destination. Clearly a sign that I spend too much time in Itaewon.

"What do you feel like?" I ask.

"Something Korean. Something that will make an impression."

Well, I am not the greatest Korean ambassador, but when it comes to making impressions I know just the place, Seoul Pub. Seoul Pub defies description, but I will try. I have already posted about the owner's magic tricks and drinking games. It can be a fun place. You also meet a most diverse clientele. Palestinians have bought me shots. I met a man from Guiana. He introduced me to a Jordanian who crashed and burned with the ladies like no one I have ever seen. One night my friend from Guiana took an interest in two Russian ladies sitting at the bar. We had been watching the Russians reject approach after approach once they got a cigarette from the guy.

"Okay, I'm going in," says our Guiana friend as he takes a seat next to them.

I lose track of him as a very attractive Korean woman next to our booth is also rejecting every approach in dramatic fashion. She had been making the 'x' sign with her arms, sticking her tongue out, and dropping her head into her hands. There was a lot to watch. Eventually, no one approaches the Korean woman any more. So, she decides to approach some westerners. Unfortunately, one of the guys must have said something that she didn't like because she took her beer and poured it onto his lap.

"Oh my God! She pushed him," says a companion as I turn to see our Guiana friend lying flat on his back with his arms and legs flailing about. One of the Russian ladies tried to push his chair away and succeeded. Welcome to Seoul Pub.

Since the official part of the evening was over, I decided to take our visitor from Japan to Seoul Pub. He did want an impression. When we got there it was sort of quiet, so we sat at the bar. The owner started doing his magic tricks, and our visitor was impressed. Then we started playing the dice game where the loser pays for a round of shots. After seven rounds of shots we were feeling pretty good.

My colleague's dance got the applause of a group of musicians sitting at a booth behind us. There were four Korean musicians, one very attractive lady who turned out to be a singer, an elderly gentleman who was her producer, an elderly lady who was her manager, and a young guy who was the producer's assistant. How did I learn this? Well, a few minutes later the singer comes to the bar to order a round of drinks. She then grabs my arm and drags me to her booth. What followed was one of the strangest conversations I have had.

Their English was very poor so we would try to translate with our phones which was hilarious. I was having a great time trying to communicate. The record producer had spent a little time in the States and was able to find a song the singer sitting next to me was known for on the internet. She plugged in her earphones and handed one to me. We then sat there listening to her sing the theme song of a Korean TV drama. It was easy to forget about everyone else especially since she started to caress my back and rub my legs. She was very friendly, and I was having a great time.

It turns out that she is a Korean pop star named Navi. Here are some pictures from the internet.

Navi is on the left with her duet partner.

An advertisement that shows how she looked that night.

And here are some links of her performances.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jv2QZ9FKrE&feature=related


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNLgNtAslLQ

Of course, all good things must come to a close. Navi was leaning against me with her head on my shoulder when she whispered she needed to use the rest room. After she left the booth, the producer's assistant says to me, "This is her mom." Thank God I hadn't taken a drink because I would have spit it all over him. Her manager was also her mom! There seemed to be a very long silence. Then I did the only thing that came to mind. When in doubt..."High five!" I said to the mom. And then Navi's mom high-fived me. I don't even want to know what was going through the mom's mind.

Navi returned as though nothing had happened. My friends came by the booth letting me know they where headed home. I decided that was probably a good idea. I got her number and a good night kiss...in front of the mom. Awkward. I have texted her a few times once in Korean. No response. I guess the mom didn't like me. It wouldn't be the first time.

Beer for Orphans

A friend has started a nonprofit to help send orphans from Nepal to school. In an effort to help the holiday fund drive the next round is on me. If you donate $5 I will buy you a beer the next time I see you. For my friends in Indiana, I will be in the Hoosier state Dec. 21-28. I will most likely buy you a beer anyway, but there is just something about helping education by having a beer that appeals to me.

http://thekumariproject.bellstrike.com/

Happy Holidays

I'm a Mercenary! Bizarre Twists Part 1

I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray...

'The Layers' - Stanley Kunitz 

Korea constantly reminds me that I have no idea what the future has in store. Lately, I have been wondering if I had known I would end up in Korea would I have continued on that path. The question is moot, but I like thinking about it. Before I had a job offer in Korea, I was seriously considering changing fields. I wanted to become a teacher and coach basketball. I've also wanted to be a politician, an actor, and a scientist. 'I have walked through many lives, some of them my own..." Ultimately, I know I would have continued along this path because I would never have believed anyone who told me what my future had in store.

I learned long ago that life is way more creative than I am. That belief makes me a little reluctant to impose my dreams on reality. That's not to say I haven't tried, but that usually ends in disaster. May of 2011 is a great example of just how disastrous that can be. Today's post is a minor example of the wonderful and bizarre twists life can throw at you.

Our institute has many events throughout the year. One of the biggest is Sport's Day. There is a soccer tournament, a basketball tournament, and a talent show. Yet another email:

Dear Brad,

 

Thank you for joining our basketball team.

So far, we’ve got 8 members in total including you.

Our first game is on next Thursday from 12:10 PM.

 

Brief rule is as following,

Game period: 30 min with a half time.

When the game is tied, extra 3 min applies.

The rest follows NBA rules.

Ah, NBA rules. Excellent. Two days before our first game we have a practice. Since I am the only foreigner on the team I am worried about my ability to communicate. After meeting the players I ask them, "How do you say 'pass' in Korean?"

"Pass."

"Okay, how do you say 'shoot' in Korean?"

"Shoot."

Damn! I know way more Korean than I thought. Practice was fun. Since I was the tallest, the coach designated me as the starting center. That's right. At 45, I am the starting center for the Brain Science Institute basketball team. There are some potential problems, however. For instance, this is a full court game, and I am out of shape. They also play a zone defense. What happened to NBA rules? Oh well, let's lace 'em up!

The day of the game, the coach tells me the other team is commenting on how we have hired a 'mercenary' from the States. I'm not sure who our competition was. I think it was Biomedical Engineering, but it could have been Robotics or Metalochemistry, ... the giants. Anyway, I felt compelled to live up to that title so I suggest we play a 1-3-1 offensive set to attack the 2-3 zone everyone plays. This puts all of the offensive players in the gaps of the zone. The coach agreed until an old guy showed up and just took over. Welcome to Korean culture where you are to respect your elders. The new coach reluctantly agreed to the 1-3-1 and promptly made himself point guard.

I don't care what set you are in, if you telegraph your passes against quick Koreans it's not going to end well. He turned the ball over five times before declaring the 1-3-1 set a failure. He only turned the ball over four times running a 2-1-2 set. Even though we gave up a lot of fast break points we were only down 2 with 14 seconds to go. They had the ball so we fouled to put them at the line. The 'senior' coach tells us to throw a long pass since there are only 14 seconds. I've had enough, "NO! It only takes 5 seconds to dribble the length of the court. Don't make a stupid pass that can be easily intercepted!" He took me out. Apparently, he understood English. We lost by four.

Even though I was happy with my performance given my physical conditioning or lack there of, I was pissed. I try to respect the culture here, but for someone who doesn't know what he is doing to show up, take control, and cost us the game infuriated me. Perhaps I was trying too hard to show my value to my colleagues. That basketball game was my first chance to really do that. God forbid we actually do an experiment (that situation is improving though). As a result, I was complaining to everyone I saw. "We should have won that game. If we hadn't turned the ball over so often we would be playing for the championship. Now, our department has no representation on Sports day."

To which a secretary in the business office replies, "There is still the talent show."

To be continued...

Please Don't Barf: A Trip to the Korea Medical Institute

Usually, when I get an email that is in English it is serious:

Dear All,  

  

KIST has arranged a medical examination for the all employees.

You can choose any date during 1st of Sep. - 30th of Nov. unless the center isn't available.

You can check the medical center's availability when you book online. 
Korea has universal health care. Since the health care debate (I use that term loosely) still simmers in the U.S., I thought I would share with you my experiences here.

I was very sadden when the community meetings to debate health care in the U.S. degraded into death panel scares. I had been very optimistic since doctors, hospitals, health insurers, pharmaceutical companies, and patient's rights lobbyists were all ready to join the dialogue. How that was turned into 'Obama-care sucks' amazes me. It may well be true that Obama-care sucks. Sadly, the debate never really happened. To me, forcing everyone to buy health care insurance doesn't seem quite right, but since that was a provision to prevent insurance companies from denying coverage, I didn't really mind it. Perhaps there is a better way. That was sort of the purpose of the town hall meetings. Sadly, all I remember from that was how there were going to be death panels.

I have been to the clinic a couple of times in Korea. Both times I told the doctor what was bothering me. He examined me and put me on antibiotics for a week. I was in the Doctor's office less than 10 minutes. The pharmacy charged me 3,000 won ($3) for the antibiotics.

Preventive medicine is very important here which is what today's post is really about. This morning was my medical examination, and what an examination it was. To begin I was told not to eat or drink anything after 9 p.m. the night before. Of course that meant that I was dying of thirst. I arrived at the clinic around 8 a.m. I am given a form to fill out. My favorite question was:

Have any of your family died of the following:
a: Stroke b:Cancer c:Heart disease d:Kidney failure e:other

Unless all of your family is still alive, I'm guessing 'e' is chosen the most. The other questions were if you smoke or drink and how often.

Once that was turned in, I was sent to the locker room where I changed into hospital robes. The clinic is sort of in the shape of a 'T' where the base is the registration and the top is the waiting room. The waiting room is pretty large with several doors to small examination rooms adjoining it. Welcome to the assembly line.

My first examine was an EKG. Then I was ushered into the next room for a glaucoma test. In the next room I had an inhalation test. This was followed by my height measurement, weight, blood pressure, eye examine, balance test, and a hearing test. Whoa, and we were just getting started. They take some blood and then had a sonogram of my abdomen, thyroid and prostrate. In the next room I met with a doctor. She asked me if I had any discomforts or questions. I was with her for less than 5 minutes. I bypass the pap smear room and the mammogram room. Then it was a scan of some sort starting at my head and ending at my pelvis. The next room was a chest x-ray.

The last room was the worst. I was given a large pixy stick and asked to swallow that quickly with a glass of water. This was followed by something like pepto-bismo. I nearly gagged. "Please don't barf," said the technician. I was instructed to stand against a platform. "Hold on, please." The platform tilted me back until I was laying down. "Please turn right. More. Please don't barf." All this time a machine was taking pictures of my GI tract. "Please turn left. More. Please don't barf."

After that ordeal I was told to urinate in a cup, transfer it to a test tube, get dressed and go home. I was there roughly two hours. That was the most thorough examine I have ever had. They do not mess around. I would estimate that there were roughly 50 people going through this process at once. I do not know how cost effective these procedures are, but there were no additional costs to me.

A list of the standard test. I guess I didn't want the fecal exam or the dental exam.

A list of additional tests. To convert to dollars divide by 1,000.

It was a very interesting experience. I cannot say whether this system is better than the U.S. or not. I will say that the Korean system is way more efficient. Of that there is no doubt.

A Million Strangers with a Million Stories: Part 1

In the time between college and graduate school, I took acting lessons. I was substitute teaching during the day and bussing tables at night. On my night off I would recite scenes from plays I had never heard of. The instructor was the woman who produced Timothy Church Mouse for those Hoosiers in the audience who might remember.

I learned many valuable lessons from her. For instance, there is a difference between reciting lines and telling a story. There's a difference.... One requires energy and passion. During the school day I would have a prep period which gave me a chance to rehearse my lines. Awful...at first but then gradually the energy would increase, and things got better. This is true no matter the talent level as I found out last year helping a very talented friend prepare for a Shakespeare Company audition. (An exception is my daughter who nailed the prima donna high school beauty queen on her first try.)

"Yes is almost always the more interesting answer," my instructor would say when questions were asked about the character's motivation. Notice, she didn't say the correct answer, just the more interesting. That has been a guiding principle ever since. I also developed a fondness for beautiful scenes in movies (the opening scene to Sin City may be the greatest of all time).

As I was channel surfing last night, a Korean movie caught my attention. The opening scene started with a phone ringing. A Korean woman working in a cafe answered the phone but only hears a man's voice with a stilted accent saying, "Hello?" Realizing that the person does not speak Korean, she starts to speak English, and a fascinating conversation unfolds.

"Hello, where is this?"

"This is a cafe," she says.

"No, I meant what country is this?"

The camera only shows the Korean woman who now has a very confused look, "This is Seoul, Korea. South Korea."

"I have a friend there."

"Where are you from?" The man explains that he is Polish but is currently in Rotterdam. The screen splits in two as the back of a man calling from a phone booth is juxtaposed to the woman in the cafe. He had been to many cities looking for his friend. Someone told him that his friend was there, but that was wrong. "I think she is in Korea. Her name is Anna."

The scene is so incredibly Korean. "I do not know her." The Korean lady clearly wants to hang up but has to ask one more question. "Who is Anna?" Koreans can be extremely polite and very inquisitive which makes them easy to talk to.

"She is my fiancee. It is a long story."

The Korean lady smiles, "I love long stories." The camera cuts to scenes of Rotterdam as the Polish guy describes the city. It is wonderful. At one point the guy reiterates that there are a lot of Chinese there. "You already said that. Are you running out of things to tell me?" she says with a laugh.

"No, I'm thinking of getting a job here. Can you tell Anna? Can you tell her if you see her that I give up? My phone card is running out. I have to go."

"Okay, perhaps Anna will come for coffee, and I can tell her."

"No, Anna does not like coffee.... but I do. Goodbye."

The rest of the movie was in Korean so I'm not sure what happens. The reason I described that scene is that it is so Korea: a million different strangers with a million different stories. And nearly everyone is willing to share their tale.

Story #1
A colleague's nephew is visiting. Another Hoosier is on the Korean peninsula. He is from Bloomington, just out of college, bright, and at 24 so very green. I was dating someone his age? What was I thinking? Oh, yes. I remember:

Flashback to May of 2010 as I sit with her on the docks overlooking the Long Island Sound. "But this can't go anywhere!" she says to herself as an internal dilemma interrupts a surprisingly romantic moment. She is thinking about where this could lead? She may actually like me! That was as far as my thought process went. I didn't know she was going to Nepal. I didn't know she would never come back. At least not to me.

Fast forward to May of 2011 as we are both halfway around the world and yet still far apart. "You must trust in my love for you," she replied to my worrying about me not being mentioned in her future plans. I realized I did as she said that. I did trust in her love. We had been through so many obstacles, and every obstacle had brought us closer together. It had been really hard, but I continued to feel my love for her grow. And had felt the same from her. Worse, I began to believe that I might actually be her best option. From the beginning, I felt there had to be several better options for her than dating someone 20 years older, but that fear had diminished. A few days later she tells me, "I'm sorry. I just can't do this anymore." Ohhhh, that's going to leave a scar.

Back to present day and the lad from Bloomington, "You guys will probably regret going out with me since you probably won't be able to keep up." At the end of the night he was hurling in a back alley way, and we were definitely regretting that. In between those events though was a good time. We had gone to the pub that has comedy night upstairs. I stayed below talking to the bartender I felt was going to be my new girlfriend. Once that feeling passed, I made my way upstairs.

"Hey, let's go meet some more strangers," my youthful friend tells us, his eyes full of wonder. The comedy show had ended and the crowd was thinning out. Apparently he had met some interesting people and was hungry for more. Just like the movie, this is what happens in Seoul.

We go to Seoul Pub where a bartender there shows us her sketchbook. I don't remember why. I just remember thinking that was cool. We do some shots with our young friend. He goes off to talk to three girls at a far table which opens up the seat next to me at the bar. A blonde lady from Georgia takes the seat quickly. "Your friend is handsome... and you are very handsome."

"And you have been partying for a while," I say with a smile.

"I like to party." The conversation gets more ridiculous. Throughout, I make eye contact with the bartender to ask silently, did she just say that? The lady from Georgia tells me there is a love hotel around the corner. Space is tight in Korea. Many young adults live with their parents creating the need for love hotels. Perhaps another day I would have said yes. It is the more interesting answer, usually. She had nice breasts and was doing her best to show them off, but I just wasn't interested. Maybe I need an emotional connection, or I need my head examined.

"You're not going to give it to me?"

"No, I'm not. Sorry. Take care."

The next day I got an email from the Seoul Pub bartender (I had given her my business card, of course). "Here are more examples of my work. It was nice meeting you and your friends. ...As gift I would like to draw you." I had recently hired a friend to paint a portrait of my daughter. Getting my portrait done seems really pretentious. Giving my portrait to my sister for Christmas seems perfect, so I email her my interest in getting my portrait done. Here is the reply (she is Korean so the English is not perfect):

Dear Brad

I do appreciate for your time to look around my work on web.I am trying my best to represent the essence of each model I meet. It means I need little bit of personal time with each models to get a bit of intimacy and inspiration for better portrait work. I believe to try to have communication with each models made me better human being who can share things more. That is what i am trying to put first beside money and other business thing about painting. But to say honestly, I am trying to quit portrait painting this year because I found myself that I can not mentally deal with sense of emptiness every time I finished portrait painting. To think about person all the time until the painting done somehow very stressful though I love to be with people. So, I am hoping to show another images not only portrait on my next exhibition...

Now that is an artist! Thankfully, she could use the money and has agreed to do my portrait. Apparently, I do not have many good pictures of myself on Facebook, but I like the drawing she did.

I'm a model!

My sister needn't worry too much. I don't think my portrait will be done in time for Christmas. I have yet to sit for it. But next year... I guess my conversation with the Georgia girl started this. Rarely is no the more interesting answer. Unless there are a million different strangers with a million different stories. Then anything is possible.

Baffling the Mystified

I guess you could say I am easily baffled. For instance many years ago I walked into a White Castle restaurant in need of the original sliders. On the menu the price of a White Castle hamburger was 49 cents. Underneath that was the price for a ten-pack, $5.

"Sir, can I help you? Sir, are you ready to order? Are you okay?"

It took a long time for me to respond. I was totally debilitated. All of my cognitive ability was focused on why buying a ten-pack would cost more than ten single hamburgers. "Uhm, hamburgers are 49 cents?"

"Yes, sir."

"And ten are $5?" I was completely baffled. Eventually, several smart-ass comments crossed my mind, but fortunately, I remembered the golden rule of fast food restaurants: Never piss off the help unless you want your pickles pissed on.

Now that I live in a foreign land I am usually mystified. The other night I was having a nice conversation with a new bartender, "What did you do before taking this job?"

"I was a nurse, but I quit because I could make more money bar tending."

Conversation over. I could not comprehend how a bar that may have 20 people there during its 'busy' time could possibly pay more than a nursing job. Maybe I don't want to know the answer (When I go to the clinic, are nurses happy with their pay?). Doesn't matter. I was completely baffled and no longer capable of continuing the conversation.

Now, I thought I was getting a little better at recovering from my mystified state. That was until I decided to eat lunch off campus. I am ashamed to say that sometimes I eat at McDonalds. I like Korean food a lot but there are times I don't want grilled octopus. I also go to McDonalds when I don't want dinner to be an adventure. Don't get me wrong. I love exploring the city and finding new restaurants, but if the menu has no pictures, good luck to me.

Korean fast food chains imported from the US are very good here. The quality and speed of service are quite impressive. I also like that a Big Mac value meal is only 5,000 won ($5). So I decided to go there for lunch. They do speak a little English but not much.

"A Big Mac set." A set refers to fries and drink with the sandwich.

"Uh?" I usually try twice before pointing at the Big Mac on the sign.

"Oh, Big Mac set-eh. Hannah?" They must think westerners eat a ton of food because they always ask me if I want just one. "Hannah?"

I give the lady my 5,000 won...and she gives me change. Uh oh. What have I ordered? Why was it only 3,900 won? "Lunch-eh." McDonalds has a lunch special. Why does McDonalds have a lunch special? Beats me. Oh yeah and then there is this:

McDelivery! 24/7 365 days a year.

When I was younger I would have eaten at McDonalds for every meal, but Korean food has spoiled me. Or so I thought. On a recent date I was asked what Korean food I like.

"I really like shaboo shaboo."

"That's Japanese."

"Oh, on Black Day you eat a noodle dish with soy bean sauce. It is really good."

"That's Chinese."

"Oh, uh...HOW ABOUT FRENCH FRIES? I really like those!"

It's a mystery to me why we haven't gone out again. Well, we actually went out again an hour after our first date ended. That was kind of baffling too.

Strange Advice

Sometimes things just make sense. Experimental design comes easily. What the data is trying to tell becomes obvious. A talk I heard in graduate school pops into my head during a lecture, and suddenly I get it. I understand what has been done and come up with better questions. Whenever this happens, it is almost a certain sign that I am wrong.

One might think that is very frustrating, but that is only somewhat true. Invariably, I convince myself that this time I am right. The Charlie Brown in me is finally going to kick that damn ball. I mean, it makes perfect sense. How could I be wrong? Oh, that's how.

I think this is what makes me a good scientist. This understanding that I am probably wrong leads me to focus on figuring out why. Hopefully, I will ask better questions. Eventually I will get it. I.... had better reread paragraph one.

Anyway, one positive result of this recognition is that I listen. I may totally disagree. It might be complete nonsense to me, but I will listen. I want to understand, and I know I may well be wrong. I can still be dismissive. For instance, the vice-director of my department offered the following advice for living in Korea on my own.

"When I first moved to Korea, my wife and kids were still in the States. If it wasn't for my cleaning lady, I would not have survived. You should hire a cleaning lady. They don't cost much. I will ask the secretary to look into hiring a cleaning lady for you."

"Oh, that's okay. There is just me and there is not much to clean, but thanks, I will think about it," is what I said. How disconnected is this guy? is what I was thinking. A cleaning lady? He was serious?

While I was somewhat dismayed by the suggestion, I was also touched by it. I am the only foreign Primary Investigator in the department who is here the full year and is single. The others are either Korean, here only four months of the year, or have a significant other. The result is that my department worries about me and makes an effort to include me in social events. It's nice for the most part but can be sort of depressing at times as well.

I have been hearing rumblings on Facebook about how it is just one big party here in Seoul. To an extent, that is true. This is an amazing city, and I do my best to enjoy it as much as possible. These are the things I post. But the truth is that depression lurks around every corner. Two weeks ago my daughter had an open house at her high school. This is her freshman year. I missed it. Last week was the first time I missed my daughter's birthday. Oh, the waters that lead to a vortex of self pity begin to swirl. Anything that reminds me of 2010 or the disaster that was my 45th birthday... Anyway, I think you can see why I focus on the more positive events to write about.

The cleaning lady advice bothered me. Did I look depressed and in need of help? There is a bar in Itaewon that is my sanctuary. I found myself there that evening. No one else was there, so I listened to a phone conversation the bartender was having trying to convince the person on the other end that her husband was not having an affair.

"That was my friend from America. She thinks her husband is cheating. She is living in the US while he is here in Korea. She asks me because I clean their house."

"Oh, I know how hard long distance relationships can.... wait, did you say you clean houses?"

That was how I hired my cleaning lady which may be the smartest thing I have done in Korea. There are times when I do get depressed, but every Wednesday, this kind lady comes to my apartment and cleans. Every Wednesday night I can't help but feel good when I come home and the apartment is clean (especially the bathrooms). It was strange advice, but I am very glad I followed it.

Chuseok - A Korean Thanksgiving

When I returned from the States, I received the following email:

Dear scientists and students,

...

I believe you recieved the inviitation letter to the Chuseok Celebration for Int'l community. 

For the event, we will be having a Talent show which needs your participation. If this notice is too late for you to prepare I apologize you for that, though, it will be a great opportunity for you or your collegues, classmates and friends to show off your talent in front of other international scientists and students.
 

Your participation will be greatly appreciated and we are preparing prize as well. 

Please do think about this and help us to well-organize upcoming Chuseok Celebration.

If you would like to participate in Talent show, please fill out the form below and send it back to me.

Thank you very much.

A talent show? Really? Initially, I thought participation was required, and a thousand disasters passed through my mind. What would I do? Sing? Dance? Clog? Asians tend to take these types of events very seriously. Thankfully, when I broached the subject with the ladies in the business office (I was looking for back up singers) I discovered a way out. They had no idea what I was talking about. They were never invited. It was to be an international event; Koreans weren't allowed. Usually, if there are no Koreans, it's boring. Besides, it's wrong not to invite the Koreans, so as a sign of unity I was going to boycott the event. "Uhm, Brad, it says there will be free food... and Cass." Fortunately, the talent show was voluntary.

Chuseok is the Korean version of Thanksgiving. The definition from wikipedia:

Chuseok (Korean: 추석), originally known as Hangawi (한가위, from archaic Korean for "the ides of August"), is a major harvest festival and a three-day holiday in Korea celebrated on the 15th day of the 8th month of the lunar calendar. Like many other harvest festivals, it is held around the Autumn Equinox. As a celebration of the good harvest, Koreans visit their ancestral hometowns and share a feast of Korean traditional food such as songpyeon and rice wines such as sindoju and dongdongju.

Our institute is pretty good at putting on events. The Chuseok Celebration had many activities before the food was served. There was a painter doing artful calligraphy. There were games you could play to win prizes as well as a raffle. The first place prize was a bicycle. The five other prizes were.... soap. There was also a best dressed competition. I thought the kids in the picture should have won, but no. The competition was a little strange. You would get your picture taken wearing the traditional Korean outfit provided and people would vote for who was best dressed. But everyone was wearing the same thing! How could it not be a tie?

My nominees for best dressed

 There was a martial arts demonstration as well. These guys were serious.

 

Then it was time for food. But first we had to have our picture taken and a toast by the Ambassador from ... Nepal. Finally we lined up for food. There were lines at both ends of the tables since there were plates at both ends of the tables. Unfortunately, the chicken was at one end and the salmon at the other resulting in a rather unpleasant convergence near the center.

"Excuse me! The line is back there."

"Uhm, there is also a line here," I said pointing behind me.

"I don't think you understand..."

I didn't listen to the rest. Her name tag said she was from Nepal. When did that invasion happen? Oh well, one of the benefits of moving to Seoul was to be nearer to Nepal. Mission accomplished. Too bad that benefit didn't really pan out as I had hoped.

The talent show was good... and serious. There were Indonesian singers, Pakistani dancers, and a Chinese flutist. It was too dark for video so you will have to trust me. It was very entertaining.

At the end of the evening we were given a parting gift. "Male or female?"

"Uh, male."

Emotional footwear!

Nicely packaged

Nice

Very nice

Socks? Socks, and damn nice ones I must say. I was extremely thankful. It was a very good Chuseok.

I'm a Ninja

When I was in college a housemate put up a dart board. With the exception of the grinding with Korean guys ( It Seemed Like a Good Plan ), that action has generally led to positive experiences and some pretty good friendships. For example, most of my housemates took up darts. We would play a dart game called cricket late into the night.

Of course when you are in college many things become a drinking game. Cricket was no different. On the dart board there is a small outer circle which is where the doubles reside. If your dart lands in that circle it counts as two of that number. There is also a smaller, inner circle which is where the triples reside. Those count as three of that number. Hitting trips made the other person drink. For some reason saying the word 'drink' is extremely satisfying in drinking games. It feels so good that we ended up only throwing at triples.

"Nice triple."

"Thank you. Drink."

Usually, the dialogue was not that congenial. Replace 'nice' with a string of explicatives and 'thank' with a simple, four-lettered word... well, you get the idea. Our focus on triples also led to the discovery of the beer curve. The beer curve resembles a small incline that leads to a rather sudden and steep drop off. After having to drink a few times, you would actually get better at hitting triples. But eventually there was a marked decrease in hitting anything let alone triples.

Several years later I am back throwing darts. I am still pretty awful, but it is a very social game. Even some dance clubs have dart boards (Is that a pickle ... No, they're darts.). A few weeks ago the owner of my favorite bar asked me if I would like to join their dart team. What better way to spend Monday nights? (Monday night football is Tuesday morning here)

Our team name is the Ninja's (Of course it is. Didn't someone just release a movie about ninjas?). We were undefeated until I returned from the States for my primiere in the Itaewon dart league. Our opponent was the Blue Frog bar, a renowned dart bar on hooker hill. Tucked away among several bordellos down in the basement resides the Blue Frog. It amazes me that such a bar could stay open. There is a pool table, three dart boards, and a refrigerator full of beer. Let's play.

My opponent opens with four 20's. I miss everything, and, suddenly, I am way back. But just as things start to look bleak, I hit a double 16, a double 15, and a 20. I'm back from the dead. All I need is a double bull. I'm going to win. I'm a winner, baby.... okay maybe not. I never came close to the bullseye let alone the double bull. The next two games weren't even close, so I started 0-3.

Next up was the doubles. The league is sort of like the Davis cup in tennis. My partner and I go 0-3. Not pretty but great fun. There are three women on our team of six, and they are a blast. During our doubles match one of the women from our team was keeping score up front near the dart board. As we fell further behind, my female teammate stands behind our opponent who is throwing and starts to mime to the scorekeeper to flash him. "You have to distract him!" What can I say? We are Ninja's. As a side note, I started to throw really well after that.

The final game is a six-on-six countdown from 1001 to zero where you have to hit a double to exactly get zero. Having been crushed the entire night, we finally take a huge lead, and yours truly hits a double one for the win to go 1-6 on the night. Finish strong, I always say, so we went back to our 'home' bar and closed it down. Then to Seoul pub where it was finally decided we should go to a noraebang (karaoke place). That was great fun but requires a post all its own.

The Bless U Ninja's and friends.

It's a sign of character to be able to rebound from a tough loss. As you can see from the picture, I think we put the loss behind us rather quickly. I can't be happier with our team. What can I say? We're Ninja's

"Dude, that was terrible."

Once upon a time in a land far away, there was a golden couch.

"Choose," she said.

I chose poorly.

Seoul can be as crazy as you want it to be. Last night is a good example. I had drinks with a comic from Saudi Arabia and a group of diamond dealers from South Africa. Okay, they claimed to be civil engineers, but that clearly was a cover. I watched a bartender chug Guinness faster than I can chug water. A few South Africans tried to race him. It wasn't even close. One of the South Africans was wearing an afro wig. I do not know why. I doubt he knew either.

The bartender of this pub is also the owner. This was the pub I had visited on my birthday in May and nearly died from the flaming shots. Last night there were more flaming shots and even some magic tricks. Usually, the owner will play drinking games with the customers at the bar. The games range from a simple dice game to Jenga. Watching drunks play Jenga can be quite entertaining. Last night there were no games but some really good card tricks.

"Pick a card." A South African picks the king of hearts. "Is this your card?" the owner asked showing the seven of clubs. When the South African replied, "no," the owner repeated the process revealing three other cards that were not the king of hearts. He then discarded the rest of the deck and placed the four cards he had revealed face down on the bar. The bottom card was the king of hearts. It was pretty impressive.

The next trick was simple but really amazed me. Taking the deck behind his back he cuts and reveals a card to us without him seeing it. "Seven of clubs." It was the seven of clubs. The deck again goes behind his back. He cuts and reveals another card. "Two of hearts." It was the two of hearts. Lather, rinse, repeat. "Five of spades. Ten of diamonds. Jack of diamonds. Three of spades." I don't remember the rest, and I stopped counting after seven. He may have done that ten times. Impressive.

The blow up the condom over your head race. Again, not even close.

At another bar last night, I met a comic from Saudi Arabia which induced a flashback from my 43rd birthday. My 43rd birthday was the best ever. For a while I thought my 44th was even better, but that was just an illusion. A beautiful illusion, but an illusion all the same.

I was dreading my 43rd birthday. It was going to be my first birthday after my divorce, and I was not looking forward to spending it alone. Fortunately, a friend who worked across the hall from me organized an outing that took on a life of its own (thank you, Jessica). A group of us went to dinner, played bar trivia, visited my favorite bartender in New Haven, and continued partying back at her apartment (uhm, sounds like Seoul).

After finishing third in the trivia contest we went to my favorite bar. We were sitting around a table having a great time when a middle eastern guy approaches us. "Excuse me. I'm a comedian. Would you guys mind if I try out some of my material on you?"

"Sure. Go for it."

"Well, my uncle just flew in from Pakistan. When I picked him up at the airport, he asked if we could go to a bar with laptops. I told him, 'Uncle, that is lap dance. Not laptop.'"

Silence. And then one of my friends says, "Dude, that was terrible."  I do not think I will ever forget that moment. I felt bad for the guy, but I couldn't help but laugh. He was terrible. I give him credit, though. It took courage to tell jokes to strangers. It takes real courage when those jokes are awful.

I am happy to say that the Saudi Arabian guy was funny. I won't steal his jokes, but they were pretty good. Comedy night is the first Thursday of every month. Good to know because I'm beginning to believe that Seoul is as crazy as you need it to be.

It Seemed Like a Good Plan

I have mentioned in the Too Much of a Good Thing post that I have visited Korean dance clubs three times. My second trip was so bizarre involving hostesses dressed as Russian submarine sailors, a fight, a trip to the police station, interviews by the U.S. Military Police, crashing an English course at one in the morning, smoking hookah with a model from Portland... I'm hesitant to write it because I fear I cannot do it justice. Perhaps one day, but not today. Instead, I will tell a quick story about my third trip to the dance clubs since I am procrastinating packing for my trip to CT tomorrow.

One of my good friends here, Mike, is a Korean who lived in the States for several years and now teaches English in Seoul. One night he texts me that he will be in Suwon Friday night and I should join him. The night life there is pretty good, so he wants me to see it for myself. Of course I agree even though Suwon is about an hour and half trip by subway.

I arrived around nine o'clock even though things don't really start until midnight. Since we both hadn't eaten, we decided to scout around for a restaurant. We found a Brazilian barbecue place (Korean style) that was all you could eat for 12,000 won ($12); however, if you left food on your plate it was 24,000 won. Okay.

What does Korean style mean? It means that you cook the meat at your table. Not someone that works at the restaurant. You. Korean barbeque is very good. I've heard it is becoming popular in the States. I hope that is true. Since this was all you could eat, the raw meat was part of a buffet that included pasta, squid, and of course kimchi.

Korean Barbeque is really good.

As you cook the meat, you cut it with scissors so that you can use chopsticks. Usually, you roll the cooked meat in a piece of lettuce with some other vegetables or rice. It is one of my favorites. Sadly, we did not eat all of our lettuce and were charged a 900 won food wasting penalty. That's roughly 90 cents.They can be very tough here.

Once we had finished dinner, Mike leads me to his favorite bar in Suwon, the Lucky Duck. "It's a dart bar with chicks," he says with a smile. Mike is a very good dart player, so I was surprised to see two dart machines, several tables, and a ... dance area. "They dance here too. Darts. Dance. It's all good. I don't dance though."

The club was not that crowded but we still had to wait our turn to play darts. As we were waiting one of the nerdiest guys I have ever seen wearing a blue tank top T-shirt begins to dance by himself. It was hilarious. Then some of his male friends join him on the dance floor. I love to watch the Koreans dance. They simply love to dance. These guys, however, were a little touchy-feely which is somewhat odd here.

Finally, it was our turn at darts. As we played I caught the eye of a woman near the dart machine. She clearly wanted to dance. Being the only foreigner in the dance club is a huge plus, so I asked her to dance. "Why not?", she said and off we went.

It was fun. She was a good dancer. When the song ended I thanked her for the dance and headed to our table. She must have really liked the next song because she grabbed me and dragged me back to the dance floor. I love the dance clubs.

Sadly, the summers here are really humid. Eventually, you work up a sweat sitting let alone dancing. We both needed a breather. I made it back to where Mike was sitting and started to drink my beer. The nerdy guy also needed a break until he passed my table. I guess seeing a foreigner was too much for him. Once again, a dude dragged me onto the floor at a Korean dance club.

I was a little concerned having seen him grind with his buddies, but I thought my female dancing partner would come to my rescue if I got in trouble. Indeed, I thought that would be a clever way to get her back on the dance floor. The guy was very nice asking me where I'm from and telling me how much he loves the U.S. Then his friends surrounded me. And they got closer and closer. Then the nerdy guy wanted to grind! His friends grabbed me, and I started waving to my female dance partner. I couldn't help but laugh. It was too ridiculous, but I also needed to get out of there. I got the attention of my partner's friend. She laughed and tapped my dance partner on the back. Thank God, I was about to be rescued. My dance partner turned, saw my predicament, and ... left! I really thought I was going to be dancing with her the entire night. Instead, I was trying to free myself form four grinding males as Mike just sat at the table laughing. I really thought the rescue ploy was going to work. The theory seemed sound.

Pizza on the Subway

The scene: One of the greatest subways systems in the world... and the most used.


The players:
A beautiful Korean woman standing in the subway car, headphones on, reading Jane Eyre completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

A doofus from Indiana carrying a pizza, our hero.


I suspect my friends are somewhat surprised how long it has taken for me to write about the subway. When I returned to the States last October after interviewing in Seoul, I raved about the subway system. I believe I was even mocked for how much I talked about the Seoul subway. Did that bother me? No, because the subway here is the greatest subway on the planet.

Okay, I have only been on the subway in London, Toronto, D.C., New York, and Tokyo. I really like the subways in D.C and Toronto. In 2004, I went to Japan on a business trip with a colleague from Greece. That was my first trip to a non-English speaking country, and I was a little intimidated. Fortunately, my Greek friend was well traveled and dragged me out to explore Tokyo.

Since cabs in Japan are expensive, we decided to try to use the subway. I remember entering the nearest station and being completely overwhelmed. The map on the wall was monstrous. The maze of lines was impressive. There were some English words, but that didn't really help. My friend and I just stared at the map trying to figure out how to get a ticket. Then a little old lady who didn't speak a word of English starts yelling at us as she points to the map. I smile at her, but she keeps talking and pointing. She points at the spot where we are. She points at another station. Then she points at the number above that station at the top of the map. She must have done this for several minutes. Then it hit me. If you go from here to there, you pay that. Suddenly, all of Tokyo opened up to us because a little Japanese lady who looked to be 150 years old was certain she could explain it to us. Awesome.

The subway in Seoul

It is not as complicated as it looks

So why do I rave about the Seoul subway? Well, There are English subtitles everywhere. The station announcements on the trains are also spoken in English. Transfer announcements are made in English. Those things are very helpful but those things don't set it apart. The first thing I really like about this subway is that there are glass doors preventing access to the tracks. For some reason, I sometimes fear someone will push me onto the rails just before the train arrives. Can't happen here (at least at most stations).

Outer glass doors will not open until train stops

Another thing that sets this system apart is the labeling of the stations above the glass door. Once in the New York subway, a friend who knew where she was going took the train in the wrong direction. I didn't mind. She was good company, but that is hard to do here.

The station the train came from and the station it is headed to has saved me many times.

A few months after my divorce I tried online dating. Many of my dates were in New York which meant taking the subway. "From the northeast corner of the subway exit go three blocks and take a right. The cafe will be on your left." Finding the right way out of the subway in New York drove me crazy. Granted, that is not a long drive but still... Here the exits out of the subway are numbered. "Let's meet at the Iranian restaurant. From Itaewon station take exit 3 and take the third right turn." Numbering the exits is simply brilliant.

Exits 1,4,5,8,9, and 10 are to the right. Exits 2,3,6, and 7 are to the left.

Finally, each subway train has its own wireless hotspot. Your cell phone will get a signal deep in the heart of the subway system. Many people watch TV on their cell phones as they ride the metro. Indeed, most people are online and in their own world which leads us back to the attractive Korean lady and our Hoosier doofus. Recall that she has her head phones on, reading a book. The train is crowded so she is standing near the end of the car. Having a pizza to hold, I make my way to the end of the car. I notice her book is in English. I love talking to people on the subway, but there is no chance today. She doesn't even see me. Then she sniffs. Another sniff. She looks up. She looks around. She spots my pizza and smiles. Off come the headphones, "That smells really good." The headphones go back on. Another sniff. Reading is no longer possible. I think it helped that it was near dinner time. "That smells really good."

"I'm sorry. I was in the mood for pizza."

"Isn't there a place near you? What is so special about that pizza?"

To me trains are romantic. Something about the chance encounter, serendipity. "I think the brick oven was imported from Italy. All I know is that it is really good. It's called the Canadian - pepperoni, mushrooms, and bacon. Would you like the menu?"

"I'll give it to my sister. I am visiting her. I live in Paris and leave in a few days."

She's Korean, lives in France, speaks English, ... and I have her complete attention. Offer her a slice. Suggest that we get off at the next stop. We won't leave the station. We will just wait for the next train as we eat a slice of pizza. Do it! It will be really cool. Pull the trigger. You will never see her again.

This wasn't about a pickup. It was just about sharing an experience. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. She might have said no. She might have said yes. I will never know, and that is what made me a doofus.  Still, I love riding the subway. Look for the guy with the pizza box. It's probably me.

Next week I'm in the States! I can't wait to see my daughter. I'm also a little worried about culture shock. "What do you mean, the bar is closing?" Hopefully, I will get to see the sun. That would be nice.

Parking Issues

One of the things I really miss is listening to the radio while I drive. I even miss the radio wars with my daughter. Thank God she no longer listens to the Disney Channel.

I do not have a car in Korea, nor do I plan to get one. Driving here is crazy. So is parking. In a city with 10-12 million people (I keep losing count) parking is precious. You know you are in Seoul if you are dodging cars while walking down the sidewalk.

One way Koreans deal with parking is to just double park behind other cars.

This looks like a good spot

This seems strange for a country that is so polite to be so rude when they park. Well, it turns out that they are actually considerate even when they double park. If you look at the second photo there are spaces between the double parked cars. It turns out that those cars are in neutral, so if you need to get out you just push the car blocking you out of the way. At first, Oliver and I were skeptical until we pushed one of them ourselves. Amazing. It sort of reminds me of those number puzzles where you have to push tiles around.

There is more to this than meets the eye.

Another creative innovation is in the parking garages. In New Haven I would go crazy when the car ahead of me would virtually stop in the parking garage looking for an open space on the lower floors. In Korea, there are lights that let you know if a space is open. That is just brilliant. The garage also talks to you when you leave your car. I haven't ridden with anyone who speaks Korean to know what was said, but it sounds very happy and uplifting.

Green lights are open spaces.

This garage is for the Korean version of Walmart. It is three stories with groceries on one floor and house hold items on another floor. To facilitate shopping on both floors, the escalator is flat so you can take your shopping cart with you. There actually are magnets near the wheels of the cart that lock it into the grid as you go up or down.

Perhaps one day I will get the urge to drive here. I love the signs. I mean the drivers may be crazy but at least they prohibit electric cars.

And some signs are quite considerate.

I'm not really sure why you need a sign to say goodbye. When I ask Koreans, they start to laugh. "I have never really thought about it. They are everywhere." The literal translation is more like 'we have enjoyed having you.' Of course, if I ever do drive, I will be too busy avoiding the taxis to read these uplifting messages.

Off to the Philippines for a long weekend. My first spur of the moment trip ever. I wonder what kind of disaster that is going to be.

Too Much of a Good Thing

I have gone to three different dance clubs in the last month or so. None of the trips were planned, but each experience can only be described as spectacular.

The first trip was to a place call Volume in Nowon. Nowon is a very cool place with many outdoor restaurants and one of my favorite bars called Metropolis. I have blogged about Metropolis before. It was there I watched the Stanley Cup Finals with the Canadians. Several Fridays ago one of the Canadians called, "Hey, you want to play poker? We are at Metropolis." We played three sets of Texas Hold-em. I was the first one out every time. My poker skills are non-existent here. Then I got crushed in darts. Just wasn't my night.

It was nearly midnight when the Canadians got the urge to go to the dance club. They were shocked to learn that I had never been. There is a good reason I have never been. I am too old. Several of the clubs require you to be under a certain age. This was not a scene I was anxious to visit.

"We always have a good time there. You have to go. You will be the token foreigner. Everyone will want to dance with you."

The club was only a few blocks away. It was in the basement. The bouncer looked older than me which made me feel better. We put our umbrellas in a locker and entered what looked like a miniature movie theater with tables in the seating section. Up front there was a railing that separates the DJ from the dance floor. In the back there was the bar.

At many Korean bars you have to order food. This place was no different, so we got the cheapest platter for three and hit the dance floor. The music was typical dance club fare. Electronic music with a strong pulse and lots of energy. The cool thing about this place was the amount of strobe and laser lights. Everyone knows Canadians can't dance, but my friends looked good moving in the strobe lights; so I was hopeful I wasn't making a fool of myself (I've got some moves - okay perhaps not).

Anyway, my friends were right. Several people wanted to dance with me. Every time I turned away from my Canadian friends a new girl was there ready to dance. Koreans are phenomenal dancers. Some of them have amazing moves, but what really makes them shine is their love of dancing. I have not seen such joy in a very long time. I have been to some dance clubs at Yale. They are fun but way more predatory. The dancing in New Haven seemed to be  more about the hook ups and not the dancing. At Volume, every time I made eye contact, the girl would just beam and start to dance with me. At times the fog machine would cut visibility to zero. As the smoke would fade, attractive women would emerge and begin to dance with me. With the laser lights bouncing off them, it was really surreal.

The Korean guys were really cool too. Many of them dance by themselves or with their male friends. It really is about the dancing and having fun. They too would want to dance with me. One even dragged me onto the dance floor as I was trying to drink my beer. Side note: the staff hang around the dance area with brooms and dust pans awaiting the inevitable broken glass from people being dragged onto the dance floor.

"Where are you from?"

"U.S."

"We love the U.S.!"

This exchange was repeated several times and was usually followed by high-fives. Then they would try to mimic my dance moves. Even if they were mocking me (I don't think they were), it was an absolute blast. At 2:30 in the morning the DJ took a break. When the music didn't restart at 3 my friends were ready to go home. I was actually disappointed. I was having so much fun I didn't want to leave. The club was still crowded, but too much of a good thing...

Slightly Miraculous

I have been a little melancholy lately and find myself reflecting on my graduate school beginnings which seem several lifetimes ago.

When I was 24 I entered grad school. I really didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I had to do something. I was busing tables at night and substitute teaching at my old high school during the day. It was fun for awhile until the restaurant hired a new hostess who was also a student of mine. I spent my next day off applying to the Ohio State University Biochemistry Program. And then I totally forgot about it. One night I was getting ready for my shift at the restaurant when I noticed the answering machine blinking. “This message is for Bradley Baker. This is Dr. Trewynn. We received your application and would like you to visit the University…” 

I knew no one in Columbus, had no idea where to live, or what to expect. I eventually found a two bedroom apartment above a McDonald’s that was right across from campus. I know it is hard to believe, but I never ate at that McDonald’s. I was too poor. With my parents help I moved in a few days before orientation. “Welcome to The Ohio State University. You are one of 10,000 graduate students.” 

That was a very special time. The classes were so difficult. There were 24 students in our program half of which were Chinese. We were told there would be about a 70% attrition rate. They were wrong. It was higher. In an effort to survive, a few of us formed a study group. A couple of my favorite quotes:

“My last Biochemistry course was C201 Chemistry of Biological Processes. Now I’m taking C801 Physical Biological Chemistry. I’M MISSING 600 COURSE ASSUMPTIONS!”

“Okay, the section I was responsible for last night was describing the chemical reaction… and I quote from the text ‘with the position of the substrate to the nucleophilic group in the catalytic site, the polarity of the transition state is intuitively obvious.’ Uhm, I think we’re screwed.”

“Uhm, that was intuitively obvious.”

“Hey, your cat just shit on page 603 of my genetics book. Can you tell me what it says?”

Oh, those were good times. I was responsible for that last quote as one of the girls brought her new kitten to a study session. I thought her cat liked me as it sat on my book just staring at me. I was wrong.

Two of the women in that group became very special to me. Both were in long distance relationships. One boyfriend was in England. The other boyfriend was in Toronto. Email was just becoming available, and Anne was using it every afternoon to catch her boyfriend before he went to sleep. Kelly would drive 8 hours every weekend to Toronto. The weekend study sessions (sans Kelly) lacked focus.

“Hey, has anyone studied the z-cycle of photosynthesis?”

“No, let’s race go-carts.”

Since my apartment was so close to campus, Anne and Kelly would come over several times a week to study. They didn’t have anything else to do, and, sadly, neither did I. So that is what we did. I did pretty well that first semester. I also fell in love with both of them. I have hated long distance relationships ever since.

The second semester was a different story. On the coldest night in January, I was woken by yells. “Fire! Fire! Get out!” I put my jeans on, found my glasses, and saw smoke coming from under the kitchen door. I became so nervous I couldn’t put on my socks or shoes. When I opened the door opposite from the smoke, I scared the hell out of two guys standing in the hallway yelling at their friend to get out. I can still see the flames preventing them from getting to him. He didn’t make it. I had fire extinguishers in the kitchen. I never thought to use them until way too late.

Shirtless and barefoot, I went down the back stairs. It was about two in the morning. In the back parking lot three people were watching the fire, a guy, his girlfriend and her sister all about my age. The sister took charge. “I have extra socks and a blanket in the trunk.” The boyfriend refused. “Give me the keys. It’s cold.” I still have the socks. They are one of my most precious possessions.

They left as I watched the fire spread to my bedroom. Flames were shooting out of my bedroom window. Not more than ten minutes had passed since I had woken up. I realized that if those guys hadn’t had been yelling at their friend to get out I probably wouldn’t have woken up. For weeks after the fire, I would wake up in the middle of the night and swear I would see smoke. I did not do so well that semester. I nearly dropped out. But I have always had the most amazing friends. They refused to let me quit. I am extremely thankful.

Fortunately, I had replacement insurance. It was at this time that surround sound came out. Amazing. One night, I was getting annoyed with the guy yelling in the alley next to my apartment until I realized it was really the movie. I love surround sound.

Now, I’m in Korea and do not have a sound system. I didn’t bring mine from the States because I was worried about the power converter (I’m still concerned with fires). So when two of my colleagues asked if I would like to go shopping for sound systems, I agreed.

My Korean colleague had already purchased her system from this place. She had spent several hours listening to different combinations of speakers, receivers, and CD players. She claimed the sales person had become her friend even though she made him turn off the air conditioner while they listened to each setup. It was only in the 90’s that day.

We listened to several systems, again with the air conditioner off. My other colleague listens primarily to classical music. I was surprised at how different the sound was for each system. There clearly were some better combinations. He decides on one, and we all agree that his choice had the best sound. As we were leaving I noticed a receiver with vacuum tubes. I really wanted to hear that. The sales person kindly hooked it up to the best sounding speakers. This time we listened to Queen. Unbelievable. The sound was so warm it enveloped us. We looked at each other in disbelief. We next listened to Russian Red’s Just Like a Wall. It was angelic. Larry looks at me and says, “Slightly miraculous.”

I’m ready to buy, but I need to make sure. “Could you please turn the air conditioner on? There is no way on God’s green earth I’m going to turn the AC off to listen to music.” Absolutely beautiful. Then the salesperson tells me the price. So I bought this portable speaker/CD gadget. You can’t always get what you want, but sometimes you’ll find you get what you need.

A Return to Insadong

The weather here has turned absolutely beautiful. It is hot, but the warm summer nights are exactly what I dreamed of as a young Hoosier wanting to live in a big city. The night life is buzzing, the restaurants are amazing, and I feel the need to roam.

Even in the summer Korean cuisine offers many soups.

All for roughly $8

Last Wednesday (July 20th) I felt the urge to return to Insadong. I had a tea date with a friend set up for Saturday, so suddenly I was on a tea kick. Insadong is the place for tea having many traditional tea houses. This is also a good place to shop for Korean tea sets.

I used to think herbal teas were sort of pretentious. I still do somewhat, but I am discovering their social value here. The five flavor tea is exactly that. It activates the five different tastes at different times. Interesting but not my favorite.

Iced pomegranate tea is my favorite for hot days. I'm going to try to brew some soon. My friend on Saturday helped me choose a tea set. Koreans are way too kind. She liked the ones I liked but there were clearly some she preferred over others.

"Oh...nice. Very... plain and ...simple," she says with a forced smile.

"How about this?"

"Yes, I like that."

Ready to entertain with some Snow Dew tea.

 I viewed this trip to Insadong as embracing the future, but I also paid hommage to the past. Happy Birthday, my friend.

One of my favorite cafes

Wishing someone a very happy birthday.

It doesn't look like the good weather is going to hold.