December 25, 2011

MERRY KRISUMAS UH

매리 크리스마스


It snowed. On Christmas Eve. AND Christmas morning. And I spent the 24th in the mountains. And our dad turned 50! And my sister is here! And my parents arrive tomorrow! And I ate so much food! And drank so much wine!

AND DID I MENTION IT SNOWED ON CHRISTMAS EVE? MAGICAL.

Sending so much love and cheer to all my friends and family around the world.
Here's a bunch of media from the past 48 hours.









We're such a jolly bunch.

December 19, 2011

KIMCHI BOKEOMBAP

There are probably 30 grocery stores/marts/street vendors in a mile radius of my apartment and one of my favorite Sunday afternoon activities is to wander aimlessly through my neighborhood, popping into each one. Most have the same things, but occasionally you'll find a real gem (like a crate full of cherry tomatoes for 5,000 KRW.) NOM NOM.

After purchasing a weeks supply of produce, I popped into the kimbap nara, or Korean diner, to get some kimchi bokeombap: fried rice with kimchi, seaweed, a few vegetables and a fried egg. I actually go out of my way to avoid rice because some days I think my body is craving perhaps another substance from the grain family, but avoiding rice in Korea is sort of like avoiding sand at the beach.

When in Rome.



What's funny about this picture is that when I first looked at it, something seemed a bit off. And then I realized it was because I apparently ate it with a FORK. SIDE NOTE: When I first came to Korea I was falsely under the impression that eating with chopsticks would be nice because I'd eat slower. Fast forward four months and I've just learned how to shovel faster. Forks. Chopsticks. Whatever. That stuff is good.

December 17, 2011

SEONUNSA BUDDHIST TEMPLE


photo by Amanda Straub

One of the cultural things I was most excited about doing in Korea was going on a temple stay. The idea of having a mindful, intentional weekend came at a good time. With the winter quickly approaching, I wanted to take some quiet time to reflect on my time in Korea as well as make peace with the ever impending cold that never ceases to clench my insides and antagonize my peace of mind.

Beautifully, when we arrived at the temple it began to snow and while the wind made me dream of warmer days, I knew it was going to be a good weekend. To get us settled, a jolly faced monk shuffled us into a "changing room" where we were offered comfortable clothes and served tea.

"We have three sizes. Small. Medium. BIG."

"We'll take five BIGS, please." [It doesn't take much to be BIG around here.]

The monk informed us that we would have a guide for the weekend who spoke better English than himself, and that her name would be Kym. We later found out that Kym had been traveling in Hong Kong and cut her holiday short to be with us for the next 24 hours. Example 300 of crippling kindness. After an hour of happy tea drinking, we were shown our abode for the evening. The room was empty except for a side table with a pitcher of water, a locker, and a pile of blankets and pillows. We slept on the floor atop thin blankets (and of course radiant heat).

A schedule hung in our room.
Chanting ceremony: 6pm and 4:10am
Breakfast: 6:15 Lunch 11:40 Dinner: 5:00

Chant. Eat. Chant. Eat. Chant. Eat.

Nourishment.

After dinner we attended the chanting ceremony and were then taken to have traditional tea service with the head monk. It goes without saying, but it's extremely surreal to be sitting Indian style on the floor across from a MONK in KOREA with four other woman from across America, drinking TEA and discussing the East and the West, religion, love, humanity and feeling the great reality that is oneness; that fundamentally all living things are connected and share common desires and distress.

It was about half way through this experience that the head monk pulled out his smart phone. Yes. Monks have cell phones. As Kym informed me,

"Everybody want to know. Monk has cell phone? Monk has car? Monk goes to the store? Yes. Monk is people. Monk is like everybody else. Monk has appointments."

Around nine we scurried through the darkness to our warm rooms and set our alarms for 4am. On a typical Saturday night, it is not uncommon to be dancing through the streets of downtown Gwangju at that hour. When the rooster crowed (or when the cell phones rang), we all ventured out into the morning stillness to ring the bell. Every morning a monk hits the bell 28 times to begin the chanting ceremony.

One by one we rang the bell three times and then headed to the main hall. Thus began chanting ceremony number two. Bundled in all the attire I have purchased that is designed to ensure warmth, I stood in front of my mat and tried to fight the internal rumbling. It's too cold. My hands are cold. My feet are cold. I'm tired. Why don't people in Korea wear shoes inside? I'm buying a big puffy coat. With a hood. A furry hood. And a ski mask. I hate cold. I'd rather be in bed. Cold - go away. I wanted so badly to silence my mind; to be present and intentional during this time. I focused on my breath. I reminded myself that I was in control of my reactions. And finally, I just let go. And I was fine, tingling toes and all.

We had free time until breakfast and I wondered allowed to Kym, "What do monks do at five in the morning?" "They practice." TRANSLATION: They meditate.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner were all the same: rice, kimchi, seawead, eggplant, sprouts, vegetables, more kimchi and seaweed soup. What? You thought Koreans had waffles? IN YOUR NORTH AMERICAN DREAMS.

That afternoon we took a two hour hike through the mountains. Some of the time was spent in walking meditation, and some of the time I spent conversing with Kym and Amanda. Considering my last few months in Asheville, my idea of a really good hike generally climaxes with a waterfall, a bathing suit and some sunshine. In this case, an ancient picture of Buddha carved in a rock face and the beautiful temples that were nestled amongst the mountains more than sufficed.





In Buddhism it is believed that every person suffers from 108 agonies. Buddhist bowing ceremonies contain 108 bows, each a mean to clear the mind and cast aside a suffering, pain, desire, etc. Regardless of your religion, I think the practice of being mindful of your affliction is healthy and fundamental to transcendence. During another tea service, Kym brought us the tools to stream 108 beads onto a mala, or string. As we strung every bead, we were instructed to meditate on an agony. Often while reciting a mantra, Buddhists hold this strand in their hands, running their thumb across each bead, one by one, with the intention to bring bliss and happiness into the world.

When given the opportunity to intentionally summon my negative thoughts, I struggled to find things that torment me. This was a bit surprising, because when given the opportunity to piss and moan, I can generally speak with the best of the pessimists, even if it's all sarcastic and exaggerated. I can't say I came up with 108, but I probably came up with about 50, and I reused a few that I find especially torcherous, just for good measure.

Winter, maybe we can be friends. But in March you have to leave.

I'd love to travel back here in the Spring.


The bell we rang.
photo by Amanda Straub




December 15, 2011

KID QUOTES

GIRL 1: "Teacher, married and wedding, same same?"

ME: "You get married in a wedding."

GIRL 2: "Oh... OH TEACHER! I want to get married!!"

GIRL 1: "ME TOO!"

ME: "Why?"

GIRL 2: "Because, so fun! so pretty! I want to get married! eeeee! Don't you?"

ME: "Maybe in the future I will get married."

::GIRL 1 & 2 look at me rather confused::

GIRL 2: "Teacher, you has a baby in the future. I think you is very kind. And when teacher has a baby, you will not hit the baby. No, you won't hit. That is what I think."

There you have it. A twelve year old's take on how to be a good person: Don't hit babies.

December 13, 2011

SEOUL. PART TWO.

AND the real kicker of the weekend for me was... we saw a rockabilly show! It saved my SOUL (SEOUL). ha.. ha.. hahaha.

WOW.

This girl rocked it.






Sunday morning Katie and I woke up early and put on our comfiest clothes to head to Myeongdong, a rather touristy area of Seoul that has tons of shopping. This area is special because you can find Western sizes and most of the stores let you try things on. Although I am sucked in to the cute little boutiques on a weekly basis in Gwangju, the store keepers rarely let me anywhere close to the dressing room. ("You. too large." RUDE.) In my experience, it is not uncommon to come across stores where everything is simply one size. It might seem absolutely crazy, but most Korean females actually are the same size: TINY. So, I guess it makes sense not to waste inventory space on sizes for the rare foreigner who might be taller that 5 foot 5.



In the afternoon we headed to another are of Seoul called Itaewon. Because of it's adjacency to the military base, you can find foreigners of all kinds. If you somehow shielded your eyes from all the Korean signs, it actually feels like you are in downtown Chicago. There are people from everywhere. And where there are foreigners, there is foreign FOOD and better yet, foreign SUPERMARKETS. After scrounging around and practicing extreme self control, I lucked out with some cumin, natural peanut butter and a few packets of panang curry.

To end an amazing weekend, Katie and I feasted on some Greek Food.


GYROS!




Here's a video from the show. It was taken with my smartphone.

December 6, 2011

SEOUL. PART ONE.



I escaped to Seoul in the middle of the night. To run? Yes. But SO MUCH happened.

We arrived at 1 in the morning and did what any sensible group of people would do the night before a race: we had some beers and talked until six in the morning.

In the morning we took the subway to the site of the 7th People's Health Marathon. The weather called for rain, but the sun persisted and it turned out to be quite a nice December afternoon. I was still unsure whether I was going to try and run the 10k. (I have been injured for the past month.) But when I arrived, I discovered that the group had accidentally signed me up for the 5k and I took it as fate. It was a pretty run; it took place along the Han River. I finished the race in pain, and I'll begrudgingly head to the doctor this week. INJURIES ARE DUMB.







Post race we met up with some friends (who also let us stay in their apartment! THANKS!) and ate some Mexican food at Dos Tacos. Vegetable Burrito with Avocado? Yes. Please. We had lots of plans for the evening, but the main goal was to head to Hongdae for a show and HIV benefit event called "Rubber Soul." (pun intended) It's hard to believe that in a city the size of Seoul that the subway actually stops. A few miles away, the subway stopped, the lights turned off, and everyone existed the train. INCONVENIENT. We spent about 45 minutes looking for a taxi, were a bit disgruntled, but eventually arrived at said destination. We met up with some fellow Gwangju-ites, and hit up a Hongdae favorite: booze in a bag.




We carried this gem with us to the show, and... MORE LATER.