Your Korea Advisor Will See You Now

Milano, Ciao!

2011-12-29T07:46:00.000-08:00

I didn't have anything that resembled a clue which bus to take on a Monday morning in November last year. Instead I studied a fold-out street map of Milan, scribbled a crude map onto the back of an Esselunga receipt and strode out of the apartment block, through the green gates and onto Via Airolo. Thirty minutes to walk six inches on the map? Easy, I thought, forgetting that I hadn't checked the scale of the map. The streets in Milan were splattered with more dog shit than I'd ever seen. A great deal of nimble footedness was required if you were to successfully make it from A to B without caking your soles in it. It was a strange conflict of emotions that I felt that morning; all at once outraged that citizens should think it acceptable to let their canines squat, shivering in the icy Lomabardian winter wind, squeeze a moist one out onto the pavement then walk off without any outward display of embarrasment, chastising of the dog or attempt to scrape it up with a few sheets of newspaper - yet - in a total state of innocent wonder that there still exists here the dried, white fecal matter we lovingly remember from our childhoods. They must still add bonemeal to their dogfood in Italy - what a discovery - I hadn't seen that shit in twenty years! Forty minutes later - the route I'd sketched had taken me up and onto a raised section of dual-carriageway with little in the way of a pavement - I turned right onto a road named Via Castellino da Castello. This matched the pencil scribblings on another little piece of paper I had in my pocket. My Scuola Materna was on this road. I found it - Number 5- and kept on walking past, gradually breaking into a run until I found a children's playground to sit in. What the fuck was I doing here? I began to panic. I was about to walk into an Italian state-run pre-school and teach English, alone, to a room of twenty screaming five year olds who'd most likely never heard a word of English in their tiny, thus far meaningless lives. I can assure you this is a more daunting task than a lecture theatre of thirty advanced level teenagers. I'd done that four months previously and it was a breeze. So there I sat on a park bench in the cold, loading little white rocks into my crackpipe before lighting and inhaling to the pits of my lungs, which I can assure you is probably an extended metaphor for taking a few deep breaths of crisp Milanese air before marching in there for what turned out to be a delightful morning of finding out what each and every one of the little knee-high being's favourite colours and animals were. All in Italian of course as they couldn't even say 'Hello!', but I was about to change that by introducing them to the Disney themed 'Hello Song!' that I had on CD. I gathered them into a circle and pressed play. I've broken copywright law and made a video slideshow of the 'Hello Song!' accompanied by some pics of my time in Italy. Enjoy.

Lyrics (my own signature dance moves follow in brackets):

Hello Children! How are you? x 3 (WAVING. SMILING. JUMPING. WINNING!)
Fine, thank you! We are fine! (Thumbs UP in the air, spinning in a tight circle)
Hello! Hello! Hello! (PUNCHING the air and shouting 'Hello!')
Hello! Hello! ... (Mime counting to 3 in the air before final Hello)
HELLO!!! (Jump and touch the SKY!)
...collapse... (Get breath back before kids demand an encore)

I have just calculated as accurately as possible how many times I must have sung and danced to that song in my 5 month stint in Italy. Two thousand four hundred!

I can look back upon my time in Milan and confidently say that I had a good time. It may not have felt like it at times, especially in the deepest, dark-grey recesses of the Northern-Italian winter when outside of the pretty Centro Historico, the rest of the city was about as depressing as watching a looped slow motion video of a dog being put to sleep. The nightlife was shockingly poor for a city of 1.3 million residents and there were times when I just wished I was back in Seoul for a manic 12 hour binge, farting raw soju out of my arse and lighting it off a cigarette, watching the terrific trail of flame arc over the side of the rooftop terrace of Roofers pub in Itaewon, as my friends laughed - Oh, how they laughed in my dreams!

Things we did do well in Milan were dinner parties with copious amounts of Peroni and Chianti to wash down the fantastic food. There were two flats of teachers living on the same street - Via Airolo, nr Maciachini - in gated apartment communities. Every now and then we'd have each other over for exquisite Italian feasts, really making the most of the dazzling array of high-quality ingredients, one thing I actually preferred about Italy over Korea. Enormous artichokes, bright purple aubergines, fresh fish, cured meats, killer pesto, astounding olives, and when we didn't feel like cooking we lived next to a good pizzeria - we were in food heaven!

Winter began mercifully to recede towards the end of February and the feeling of the city completely changed. The sunshine invaded dark corners of streets I had originally felt oppressed walking down, and in the warmth and glow of a slowly breaking Spring, hidden beauty was revealed in their architecture. Some even became a joy to stroll down in the mornings in search of a short, bitter espresso and cornetto - the classic Milanese breakfast for on the go. The strongest coffee imaginable, and something resembling a croissant - not, as you might be imagining from the name, a conical ice-cream from the UK. I started seeing a pretty Italian girl named Loredana, older than me by three years, but nothing much had the chance to blossom as I'd already accepted a job offer from my old boss in South Korea, that was to begin on March 28th. I missed Korea hugely and once the thought was planted in my mind there wasn't ever really a chance I'd stay. I accepted and handed in my four weeks notice to the company. On my last night in Italy, a Thursday night, Loredana, her sister Maria and friends threw me a going away party at their apartment on a very long road that kept changing names as you went up it - Via Carlo Imbonati, Pellegrino Rossi, Alessandro Astessani... Once up the creaking staircase in their ancient building, we knocked on the door and it was opened by Maria who told us Loredana was still in the process of getting ready, but to come on in and help ourselves to food. Platters of ham, cured meats, cheeses, olives and breadsticks were laid out upon a table. I couldn't believe they'd gone to these lengths for me - it was completely lovely. Maria poured me a glass of red wine as I set down the bottles I'd bought on the red table cloth. Then Loredana appeared in a little black dress that I still remember to this day. It was quite stunning and I made sure to tell her so. "Damn! Am I really leaving Italy tomorrow?", I thought. The night wound on and lots of Italians turned up. I didn't know half of them but they were very friendly and good company - we quickly set about getting to know each other so that we might at best feel a drunken sense of cameradery by the end of the night - it was after all my leaving party. My British friends Rob and Cameron made their excuses and left, leaving me happily pouring red wine down my throat. By this point, 11pm, a guitar had appeared and I joined in with their loud Italian singing where I could. I impressed them by singing all the words to a famous partisan protest song, Bella, Ciao! It had also been used to accompany a famous protest video made by the Iranian Green Movement, who I'd spent a month with earlier that year. I had learned the lyrics by listening to and eventually joining in with my Iranian friends.

Then there was Italian folk dancing mixed with a little bit of flamenco, which the two sisters were expert at and tried their best to teach me. At one point I had one of them clasped to my chest, right hands held together and thrust out in front of us, a bright red rose held by the stalk between my teeth, ten Italians singing with zest and playing guitar, everyone really happy and pissed. I think it was approaching 2am when a knock was heard at the door and we were told to keep it down. "Last year we had the police around!", said Maria. "But we don't do this kind of thing too often".

The next day I flew on Emirates to Dubai where I spent a full day, before boarding an Airbus 380 to Seoul Incheon airport. I sat down today to write about a recent trip to Jordan and Israel, but then I realised there were some huge gaps that needed filling first, so my next blog will be all about Korea: Round II. Over and out.

The Story of the Terminator and the Robocop

2009-12-22T06:57:00.000-08:00

One day, a little terminator was running around the battlefield. He ran over a fighting robocop and hit him up! The robocop hit the terminator with his head. "Please kill me!" said the terminator. "Let me kill and how know? I will kill you." The robocop laughed. "Kill me? A little terminator? Ha! Ha! Just kill." said the robocop. The next day, two terminators put a bomb in the robocop hotel. The robocop got touch in the bomb. The terminator laughed and burial, but he couldn't die. The terminator heard the robocop. He came and bomb a big hole in the throw. He help the robocop die. "Thanks for kill me I want to die" said the robocop. "And I'm sorry. Now I know that I will die. Bye!"

This story was written by Carol. Carol is actually a boy. I wish the Korean teachers would listen to me when giving a new student an English name. A co-teacher recently approached me to ask "How do you spell the name 'Cabin'?". I replied that there is no such name, and that a cabin is in fact a wooden structure often built in forests. 'You know, like a 'log cabin'?'. But the reply comes 'No, here Cabin is a name. How do you spell it?'. 'Oh, you must mean Kevin. K-E-V-I-N'. 'No, not Kevin, Cabin. C-A-B-I-N.' She knew how to spell it. What was the point in asking me then, other than to prove a twisted point. A point that even eludes me. Each of my classes at school now has a bi-weekly writing class. I set the theme of the story and provide on-site troubleshooting as the miniscule creative sections of their brains start getting down to work. On this occasion, I certainly didn't set the theme of 'Robot blood-bath'. It was something flowery. 'Two cute little animals make friends in the most surprising of circumstances', perhaps. This was the result. I'm very fond of how at the beginning it is the terminator who wants to die, but at the end there's a twist and it's the robocop who actually wished for euthanasia - and duly got his wish. My favourite, laugh out loud point would be the excellent use of the word 'burial'. It comes out of nowhere, and actually gets the point across without any need for correct grammar.

On my birthday, I received a letter from Ray. Ray is a little girl, so please dispel any images of a fat, ageing gangster from the East-End. Really, do my teachers use a joke website to come up with these names? I met a Korean girl the other day who was devastated when I told her that her choice for a new English name was traditionally male. Rory. I only know one Rory, and he's a fat, bearded English comedian. What is wrong with these people? And what's wrong with names like Lucy, Rachel and Emma for girls? Instead, we are naming boys after sheds and girls after serial killers. I'm going to suggest that we call the next girl 'Horatio', and the next boy 'Mausoleum' - I think they would go down well here. The letter was written on pink paper and intended as a tribute to me, but it really just made me sad. It highlights the danger of using a dictionary to translate every single word, even conjunctions, and taking the first word the dictionary throws up each time. I knew all the words on their own, but together it was just terribly strange and I felt uncomfortable and unsure of myself after. Brace yourselves.

"Teacher birthday congratulation giving is late but.
I am Ray.
Small the futures and letter send, like afterwords *heart* dialogue tries with Korean.
Low price English still and well does not receive the help of computer.
Is like that but my mind being put in the small middle ear treat!!
Character now ends.
Today one day *heart* when is happy become.
Birthday congratulates.
By- By- *heart*"

Wrapped up inside this letter, presented to me as a scroll, was an even smaller letter on pink paper. My heart sank further.

"Dear Ben *heart*
Us to teach in future well. To afterwords birthday
date to infrom (sic) certainly.
Probably also the next birthday does not know like
this time the map which will have work. One day send,
today well, Happy Birthday Ben!
Your Student Ray".

Despite the hearts and well-wishes, I really am left unsure how she feels about me. If it had been wrapped around a brick and hurled through my apartment window, I would assume my days were numbered and that somewhere within its text lay the code for the exact time and date when I would be killed by the Korean Yakuza.

I really love making activities at school. Recently, things have changed dramatically so I have a lot more leeway to create and implement my own material. I am rising to the challenge, making a portfolio to show to future employers and having a lot of fun along the way. You can get kids to do pretty challenging work as long as you throw in the opportunity to draw a picture on the same piece of paper, even better if you throw some freshly sharpened colouring pencils into the deal. Today, I challenged them to write a letter to an agony-aunt type character named Mr Know-it-all, and then to follow it up with an imagined response. My catchphrase at work has become 'Come on, use your 상상 kids!'. 상상 reads 'sang sang', and is Korean for 'imagination', and this is something that doesn't come naturally anymore to these kids who have had it either drummed out of them, or the opportunities to exercise it are so few and far between that that part of their brain has shrivelled up. So, 상상s at the ready, some of my favourite girls got stuck into this activity. I sat back and wrote a letter of my own to Mr Know-it-all.

"Dear Mr Know-it-all,
My name is John Rambo and I'm a Vietnam War veteran. I have a problem. I really like killing people. Lots of them. I sometimes can't find any people to kill so I have taken to dispatching entire families of baboons, high up in the jungle canopy. It's quite easy to kill a baboon. You just creep up behind one and push it off the branch whilst it's asleep. At night, I hear the screams of fallen comrades and I remember the smell of rotting ditches in POW camps - I gaze up through gaps between bamboo shoots to see captors urinating upon me, and I think 'Just you wait until I'm free, you'll wish you'd never been born. Live for nothing, die for something etc'. Oh yes, back to my problem - what's a good recipe for Raspberry flapjacks?"

I'll be spending this Christmas skiing with friends in Korea. Have a splendid one.

Hong Kong

2009-10-21T06:34:00.000-07:00

There was an agenda to my trip. My parents lived in Hong Kong for two years before I was born, and I grew up hearing stories and pouring over album after album of photographs of the place. It planted the seed that grew into the fully-grown travel bug I have now, and Hong Kong was always at the top of the list for when I was eventually old enough and able to take off around the world. I wanted to feel a connection to the feelings I got about the place growing up - from pictures, anecdotes, scrapbooks filled with books of matches from strangely named bars, and ancient Lonely Planets that had ended up on the family bookshelf - and therefore to feel a connection to my parents' experiences of living and travelling there.

I was disgracefully lucky to actually arrive in Hong Kong. I woke up around two hours before my flight took off, knowing full well the airport coach from my town takes two hours and ten minutes to reach its destination. Also, it was Korean Thanksgiving weekend so the traffic was near-enough guaranteed to be abominable - you could say that the odds were stacked against me. I woke up not to an alarm, but to the sound of an inner-voice screaming. I began shaking even before reaching for my phone to check the time, as it was very light outside my window and I had planned to wake up sometime in the hours of complete darkness. Upon visually confirming the time, I leapt out of bed and temporarily lost my mind - I wasted a valuable ten minutes walking around in a tight and naked circle, unable to think a single coherent thought except for some basic momentary firing of synapses leading to the muttering of expletives. Eventually I pulled both myself together AND some clothes on, swung on my backpack and sprinted up and over the jagged steps into the park that leads to the main street and the taxi rank. I pleaded with the taxi driver for help. Miraculously, this marvellous man who must have been in his late fifties, spoke back to me in good English - 'Tell me the time of your flight'. I did, and he said 'I think you have missed it already'. It really did seem like it. Fortunately, he was totally okay with doubling the speed limit in places - and the sensationalist Korean media had done such a good job of scaremongering about road conditions that the roads were in fact deserted! These factors combined so that I was at the airport 50 minutes later, in plenty of time for my flight. I printed out my boarding pass and went through customs.

Once at Hong Kong airport, I followed signs for luxury shower rooms. Like a soiled tramp, I wandered into the private arrivals lounge and paid quite a lot of money for the use of a private cubicle. I took an expensive taxi ride across Lantau island (why I didn't just take the bus is even a mystery to me) and arrived in Tai O - a fishing village that has remained nearly entirely the same whilst the actual city has transformed. The whole village is built on stilts over the water, and it is very much a working place - but also geared for tourists at the same time. I queued up for a boat trip around the stilt houses, that then took us out into the open South China Sea to search for local Pink Dolphins. I really enjoyed the whole experience, and noted that it really can't have changed that much since the early eighties - still the same houses on stilts, temples burning the same heady incense. Later on my first day, I took the metro from the main town on Lantau island all the way to Jordan station on Kowloon side. My accommodation was Hakkas Guest house, third floor of New Lucky House on the corner of Nathan and Jordan. It wasn't pleasant but at least there was mould growing everywhere. The beauty of it, however, was that you walk out of exit B1 of Nathan metro and the entrance to the building is right there in front of you. It's owned by an old Hong Kong gent by the name of Kevin Koo, who is as mad as a box of frogs, overbearing and highly annoying - he just doesn't shut up, then when it's at last your turn to talk he doesn't listen because he's just pausing for air. My Lonely Planet promised a good chance that he would invite me hiking in the New Territories on the Sunday, but I think I'd have refused on the grounds that I would've probably ended up dashing his head against a rock until movement ceased. It's true that I have added reason to be Anti-Koo, and that is that my laptop stopped working under suspicious circumstances during my stay at Hakkas. After 7pm each day, Koo buggers off home and a 7 foot Chinese mute takes over the reception desk. It was tremendous fun getting home night after night at about 5am and waking up this ogre. After ringing the doorbell of the Guesthouse, I'd hear banging and crashing, then a light would come on and he would come to the door in his underwear. From the look on his face, I could actually see him searching his mind for details of where he was, what his name was and why he was answering a door in the first place. As soon as he swung it open I dived past him and into my room, looking back briefly over my shoulder to see in the gloomy light a sudden shock of recognition flash across his face. The penny'd dropped. He'd remembered his name.

My first night, I walked down Nathan Road from Jordan metro station to the Kowloon Star Ferry terminal. I had been expecting something resembling chaos. My mother even skyped me as I was walking. "I'm on the Nathan Road, Mum!". "Be careful! Oh that place's just like Blackpool now", came the response. Well, that was a speculation based on 25 years of absence - completely untrue. I felt totally safe, offered to have a suit made for me just three times - and I was only offered drugs once! "Oh mum, I'm walking past Chungking Mansions now" - "You wanna buy some hashish, my friend?" said the short Indian man in front of me. I burst out laughing. I was obviously on the phone, did he expect me to get a note out and do a one-handed drug deal on the street?! Once at the harbour front, I stood and drank in the overwhelming skyline. Superlatives abound - one of the top ten sights of my life and it's likely to stay that way no matter where I go. The crossing on the Star Ferry to Wan Chai was very exciting, although it's reportedly a much shorter journey than it used to be because Hong Kong harbour has been extended out into the water on reclaimed land. Still, the same iconic boats are in operation, so it felt special. My heart leapt at the sight of a quote on a Star Ferry poster, taken from National Geographic - "Crossing Hong Kong harbour on the Star Ferry is one of the top 50 travel experiences of a lifetime".

Later I met a couchsurfer (www.couchsurfing.com) in Causeway Bay, by the name of Kelvy Wong. She worked for a top modelling agency, and as such had managed to get me on the guestlist for two of the most exclusive clubs in the entire city - usually the reserve of models and movie stars, tonight 'Play' and 'Volar' were our stomping grounds. We ate Japanese food, including the part of the squid not normally eaten (the gristly bone from inside). The clubs were in Lan Kwai Fong, the main nightlife area on Hong Kong island. On the way from Causeway Bay to Central, we rode on an ancient tram and Kelvy gave me the lo-down on what to say to her gossiping colleagues upon meeting them. She didn't want rumours about us, and apparently their minds weren't open enough for the concept of 'couchsurfing' to be a reasonable excuse. We spun a yarn that I was a friend of a friend from London, and she had been asked by said friend to show me a good time in Hong Kong. Waterproof. Lan Kwai Fong was reportedly nothing to speak of in the early eighties, so the investigative stuff was put on hold for the night. We had our names checked off by doormen, whilst a long line of folk were being steadily turned away for not being famous enough. Some of the looks we got. Out on the street it was meltingly hot and humid, and I was sweating badly from my face. This probably helped the doormen to identify me as a 'celebrity' - "Hello Sir. You're obviously on copious amounts of cocaine. Come on in. Would you care for a face towel?". Once inside I mopped up before meeting Kelvy's colleagues from the modelling agency. They were very attractive and friendly to me for the whole night, I genuinely thought they had liked me until she told me later that they are the fakest people she knows. Oh well, there was much fun to be had mocking vain Russian male models. Kelvy and I set about stealing their headbands and laughing at their reactions. There was a lot of gurning going on. "Are they on drugs, Kelvy?". "No Ben, don't be silly!". Volar was more of the same but bigger and even more pretentiousness. I enjoyed it hugely for one night and one night only. Any more though, and I just couldn't have coped. We caught a 24hr minibus back to Kowloon side, and spent the early hours stalking the side streets off of Nathan Road in search of food. We found a shop called Ebeneezer's, serving a multitude of food for drunks. I had me a delicious Doner kebab. She had a not-so-pleasant fish curry. Then home!

The next day, I travelled North to Mong Kok. At one time the most densely populated place on Earth, it's a lively, atmospheric shopping district that I loved. I bought a new belt because my trousers were falling down to my knees at an embarassing frequency, then found a Cantonese diner for lunch. A portion of challenging size was placed before me - fried noodles with beef brisket and pak choi. Delightful! I then went back to the subway station, where I was surprised to have my name shouted a number of times. Surely this was for somebody else? I was a long way from Korea, and I didn't know anyone in Hong Kong. Turns out it was Clare, best friend of Frank's ex-Korean girlfriend Boram. She was on holiday too, visiting her friend Pris who was also now standing in front of me. They invited me for Dim Sum. I cursed myself for having just eaten such a cripplingly large plate of food, because eating Dim Sum was at the top of my 'Not to leave Hong Kong without doing' list. Now I was being invited by a local, promising one of the best places to get it that she knew of. I swallowed and accepted the invite. We soon found ourselves upstairs in a huge place decked out in gold, many locals at tables - this was the place to be! Pris' boyfriend was waiting at a round table at the edge of the dining room. Introductions were made, and we just started ordering and eating. Dim Sum - one of the most enjoyable eating experiences of my life. Loved every bite. The rest of the day we walked and walked around shopping malls - not much soul or culture to be found there. Kowloon Park was really fun for a walk though - they had flamingos and turtles everywhere. That night we watched the light show down at the harbour, before catching a train into the New Territories right to the end of the line. A 'town' called Tien Mun, population 500,000. It was the Mid-Autumn full moon festival. We found Tien Mun park and walked amongst hundreds of families celebrating in the traditional way of eating 'mooncakes'. The moon hung in the sky, bigger than I've ever seen it, and it reflected in the park's lake as dozens of remote controlled miniature boats decked out in flashing lights and glowsticks zoomed across the surface. They sent ripples in all directions, and for a moment the lights appeared to be reflections of the sky.

I spent Sunday hiking on Lamma island. It was a needed excursion after the overdose of commercialism provided by Hong Kong island and Kowloon. I had a great day just walking through jungle paths. I took a detour right to the Southern coast of the island, and stayed far too long at the entirely deserted beach that I found at the bottom of the hill. So long in fact, it got dark. I then enjoyed pushing on through sections of path covered by thick jungle canopy, and in the light I had already seen spiders as big as one of Jon's kindergarten students. I sang. LOUDLY. At the island's second ferry pier, I purposely missed the soon to depart ferry and sat down for a set meal for one at a seafood restaurant. Squid, prawns, scallops, beer - well deserved.

That night I found a lively Irish bar. I thought about the trip over a pint of Guiness. The parts that I enjoyed the most were the parts where I could just feel nothing had changed for years. Lamma island and Tai O on Lantau island in particular. I loved that Lamma was car free, and had never seen a car on its shores in the island's entire history. Shame about the power station. If I was to go back, I would go with someone. As much as I love travelling alone, there are some travel experiences that just need to be shared with someone you know. On Sunday night I took the Peak Tram to the top expecting to be kicked in the face by the view, instead I was stabbed with a big, icy javelin of loneliness as happy couples fawned around me, mocking me with their laughter. A marvellous time was had everywhere I went, but the faceless shopping malls were all the same. I could have been anywhere. I could happily go without seeing another fucking Louis Vuitton shop for as long as I live. Unfortunately, this is a major side to Hong Kong.

Weeks later, my mum returned to Hong Kong after more than a quarter of a century. Upon her return to Seoul, we walked down the hill towards the main drag of Gangnam. I held back the story of my experience there, and asked about her trip back. "I took a taxi on Kowloon side to the road where I used to work at the hospital. The taxi driver pulled over and said 'This is it'. I asked him if he was sure, and he said yes. I got out and recognised nothing. I walked up and down, the hospital had been torn down along with the rest of the buildings that had once lined the road. All that was the same was the street name. Same all over. It's all changed Ben, it's all changed!'. Her voice was strained, and I could see her holding back the tears.

A Fish Called Fuck

2009-09-22T09:42:00.000-07:00

One of my least favourite students from my least favourtite class, today presented me with a golden opportunity so serve them up a big shit-sandwich. It was almost too good to be true - like a practical joke gone horribly wrong, leaving me with the question 'Just what were they trying to achieve?' unanswered. I was marking the student in question's weekly test, and I came to the last question I had set them 'Tell me about your pet! If you don't have one, use your '상상' (imagination). This girl's answer was as follows: 'My pet is a fish. Its name is fuck'.

I thought 'So, this is what my liberal teaching style gets me!'. If it had been a kid I liked, I would have considered letting it go with just a word in their ear from me. But, whereas all my classes seem to love me, this one has taken against me because I make them do work. They spend the entire time I teach them looking up obscenities on their dictionaries to label me with, often letting their expensive pieces of technology read out sentences in miniature Stephen Hawking robot voices such as 'Ben Teacher fuck you'. So no, I didn't let it pass me by. I delivered the test direct to my boss's door. Within 5 minutes he was on the phone to her mum. Later on, she was in his office for a meeting. HAAA!

Later in the day, after my dinner, I walked into class at 6:05pm and stood at my desk sorting the CD player out for the nest lesson. A violent student by the name of Phillip, walked up behind a girl named Daisy, drew his fist and punched her so hard on the back it was as though he was attempting to knock a hole straight through her. The deep thumping sound was horrendous. I didn't even think - I grabbed him by the the collar/neck, marched him to the door and literally threw him across the lobby/reception area of my school. This caused quite a stir amongst my co-teachers and director. When they came into my classroom, I informed them that he'd been beating girls, I wouldn't tolerate it and that he'd not be welcome back in my lesson for the rest of the day. Gasps were made but nothing more was said. I'm proud to have made my feelings known on the matter, and stood my ground. It's one aspect of the 'culture', or list of socially acceptable things, that I will not adapt to or keep quiet about. No hitting of girls in my lessons/line of vision/anywhere near me. Got it, lads?!

It was a fine day other than that though. I had my favourite feel-good class, and yet another one of my favourite classes who have taken to getting out of their seats and jumping onto my back from the table whenever they see an opportunity - this sometimes involves a one-metre leap through mid-air when I'm not looking. Always a surprise!

The blog below is also new, not from August as the misleading date above the title would suggest.

Summer in Korea (Feat. Poetry Corner 2)

2009-08-23T07:54:00.000-07:00

Poetry written by my most precocious group of girls usually inspires me to blog. This batch has been no exception, so with no further ado (and no mention of how shamefully long it's been since my last post)...

'What Are You Looking At?' by Libby.

What are you looking at?
I know, I know I'm pretty better
than YOU!

What're you looking at?
I know, I know I have a big
eyes but you've small eyes.

What're you looking at?
I know, I know. I look like a
rabbit & hamster.

I know. I know.
I'm better than you!

Oh, Libby. You're only 13... So many more years for your ego to grow, so many more plain girls' lives to ruin with cruel taunts and jibes!

'She Looks Like a Beautiful Flower' by Mary

When she goes to the bed,
she looks like a purity lily.

When she plays with her friend,
she looks like fresh dandelion.

When she dances,
she looks like pretty rose.

Yeah, it's me! Mary

I can't say anything bad about this one. Once again, Mary, I think you have a talent.

'Cute Juliet's Diary' by Juliet

On Monday, my mommy
give me a present "Dog".
I'm so happy
Happy is cotton candy.
Cotton candy is sweet
Sweet is Juliet.

Just quit now Juliet - you'll never reach the dizzying heights of your sister Mary.

'Rabbit, Rabbit, Don't do that!' by Allan.

Today, my mother bought
a rabbit. But rabbit
is ate a all vegetables and
ddong (Korean for 'shit') Oh - and she eat flowers.
My mother angry with
rabbit. But, it's pretty.
What should I do? I want
to keep rabbit but my mom
angry.
Don't do that, Rabbit!

Go Allan!

So much has happened since I last posted a blog on July 1st. I should have written about each and every brilliant thing, but I let it slide. The first excellent thing to happen in July was Boryeong Mudfest 2009 - a huge free festival on the West coast. We simply had to book a space on a coach and motel room for the Saturday night. The mud apparently has healing properties and, once there, you can run onto the crowded beach and smother yourself in it. It really was liberating.

Brilliant weekend. Later in July, we hit the Jisan Valley Rock Festival. I'm panicking now because I can't think of a way to describe how amazing this weekend was, one of the best things I've done in Korea. Great in every way, spent with close friends and so very eventful. Frank and I split from the crew on Saturday night and made our ways to the second stage in a tent. A Korean reggae band, Windy City, were playing. I hadn't skanked like that since the Arts Centre in Salisbury as a 15 year old mosher, but the most enormous circle pit formed - Frank and I danced for an hour straight, totally swept away in the atmosphere. I've rated it in my top Korea experiences, 9 of which are documented so far. They are as follows (in no particular order):

1. My first ever bet in a Casino. Placing a 5k chip on Red 27 and winning 170k when the ball landed on it (Seven Luck, Gangnam).

2. Dancing to the sound of 30 Korean drummers, after dark and beer in hand, on Gwangalli beach (Busan).

3. Hiring bikes on Seokmodo, peddling/pushing them to the top of a tough hill then freewheeling down the steep hill for ages the other side.

4. My spiritual trip. Life has been better since that night.

5. Slapping on the coloured mud at Boryeong Mudfest 2009.

6. In a Noraebang in Suwon, in particular Faye's rendition of 'Ting Tang Tong'.

7. Watching Windy City, a Korean reggae band, play live at Jisan Valley Rock Festival 2009. Frank and I danced solidly for one hour and witnessed Korean people form the biggest conga line ever seen.

8. 'Top Cloud', top of Jongno Tower, Seoul.

9. Stumbling up to a Japanese Supercar on the street in Busan, then suddenly realising I was being driven at over 100mph down backstreets. I was drunk enough that no-one believed my story when the owner dropped me back at exactly the same spot outside McDonalds 5 minutes later.

Some will remain cryptic. Frank arranged for us to be picked up in a car from Jisan Valley Rock Festival, by the girl he used to give private lessons to. She had subsequently fallen in love with him, stopped paying for lessons and become very strange indeed. When she arrived just before Oasis' set, she stared at him longingly and said 'I haven't eaten anything today except for a chocolate bar. I'm on a diet so that you'll want me. I must make myself thin for you'. Poor girl.

Two days later and I was on a bus to Incheon International Airport, to board a Cathay Pacific flight to Taipei, Capital of Taiwan. I had 7 days for Summer holiday so along with Frank, I packed my tiny red backpack and ventured off. Pictures to follow:

In Taiwan, I : ate snake, drank snake blood, Cobra poison and snake penis suspended in alcohol, ascended the World's tallest building (until that one in Dubai is completed) Taipei 101 and gazed out across the city in awe, hiked through jungles with monkeys and poisonous snakes, swung from rope swings into fast moving rivers naturally heated by hot springs, eaten copious amounts of chinese dumplings, gotten wired on the local 'Betel Nuts', stayed at one of the best hostels in the world (Eight Elephants, Taipei), eaten 17 pork and cheese burgers from Taiwanese 7-11s. Oh yes, and nearly missed our flight on the way back when I was convinced it was a 20:00 return. No. It was a 17:30 return! What a rush that was! Amazing week, and I love Taiwan. In years to come it will be on every tourist trip around South East Asia. Until then, I'm going to feel quite pioneering for going there when not many others have. Great country. Delicious food. Tropical island. Such friendly people. GO NOW!

Since getting back from Taiwan, I've really been enjoying Korea. I've taken the opportunity to explore Seoul a lot, and it's been great. The last 6 weeks have involved hike after hike after party after party. I've thoroughly enjoyed myself. A highlight that I'll share now is when I trekked alone to Inwangsan, North-East of downtown Seoul. A mountain famous for its seclusion and female shamans. They don't like being watched so I found a spot on the hill above the shaman temple to observe. I was able to close my eyes as they began this other-worldly chanting, drifting off to strange places as I did so.

I've also said goodbye to some close friends recently. It has been truly shit. The gorgeous Faye, who has returned to England at short notice to take up a space on the over-subscribed PGCE course she had applied to before coming to Korea. Good luck Faye, love you and miss you! (And I won't stop telling you about all the amazing Korean food you're missing out on, and the great nights out we're having). And who could forget Pyeongnae's very own Johnnie Walker. I'm not at liberty to get mushy but we miss you man! Dinner ain't the same without our chats, and I'm completely honest when I say - now that you've gone, we eat out maybe once or twice a week. No longer is it nearly every night. At least I know I'll be staying in contact with these awesome people, but it still sucks to lose friends from your close circle.

This weekend that's just gone, we explored Hongdae (in Seoul) during the day. It's such an arty place! Our goal was Bau Haus Cafe - the cafe where you can have a coffee/milkshake/beer with over 20 different breeds of dog to play with whilst you do. It was such an interesting experience, although most of the lovely happy doggies acted like spoilt cats and mainly paid attention to the nice Koreans with bags of posh bones. SNOBS.

It was about time I blogged. Today I taught my director's daughter, as I do every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. She demanded two things from me. One was a staring competition. The other was a holding-your-breath competition. Needless to say, I won both. What with this fantastic news and the recent Casino winnings - one could say I'm on a bit of a lucky streak.

Seoraksan

2009-07-01T06:41:00.000-07:00

I've been a silent bugger, haven't I? Reason being that I've been having far too much fun! One weekend recently we caught a night bus to a city called Sokcho on the East coast of Korea, not far from the border with North Korea. We arrived at around 2 in the morning and crashed out in an incredibly cheap motel next to the bus terminal. The lobby smelt like a burning corpse so a few of us had second thoughts. Frank and I shared a room for 5 pounds each but before bed we wandered to a nearby Family Mart and bought a can of beer. Back at the motel, we sat in our seedy little room and turned on the TV. There was some Korean porn on. It consisted of a man licking a girls bum cheek and the girl making noises that suggested it was the most pleasant sensation she'd ever felt and also slightly painful. Then, all of a sudden, they were having simulated sex and I said to Frank as a joke 'Time two minutes from now'. Two minutes later it was all over in the most hilarious Benny Hill style. The facial expressions were out of Nineteen Twenties German Weimar cinema (Thanks, European Modernism module in Fresher's year!), the man in particular pulling an excellent Nosferatu. It was the most terrible thing I've ever seen! Another highlight was seeing an advert which at first was very difficult to interpret, but after a while it seemed to infer that if you take these certain pills your stream of urine would be strong and powerful. It had a before and after video of a man in a public toilet. I picked up the phone and ordered a pack, and I can honestly say I've never been happier with my piss.

In the morning, we caught a bus to Seoraksan national park, famous for being the most beautiful national park in South Korea. It was incredible! It was the sunniest, hottest day in a long time. Just inside the park there was an enormous Buddha - seriously big, humongous in fact!

We followed the path to Ulsanbawi, a mountain, through mind-blowing scenery and stopped at a temple on the way. Halfway up there was a 16 tonne boulder that is famous throughout Korea because if you get enough people to help you can rock it to and fro. We just about managed it! The rest of the climb was really tough in 30+ degree heat. At the top there was a man selling expensive iced tea that bought and marvelled at how he climbs to the top with an enormous, full metal water vat everyday. He must make a killing! We took some amazing photos and Jon pulled a mooner when there weren't any Koreans looking. Later we took the Waterfall hike that led us up a river and at the top there was a natural swimming pool. It would have been great for canyoning. Unfortunately there were signs saying 'No Swimming', but that didn't stop us. If we'd turned back down and passed on the chance to swim we would have regretted it forever. In we went, and it was glorious.

That night we were on Sokcho beach - drinking, talking and letting off fireworks. Earlier we had been for dinner and sat outside a hof when our friend Amy attracted the attention of a 40 year old Korean man and his more elderly drinking partner. This love affair began with him buying us all a round of drinks and telling us his name was Manky, but we could call him Monkey (the round of drinks was about 8 pints and some Makoli - he REALLY wanted her). It escalated from humour into something altogether more annoying and lecherous. He was so unbelievably difficult to get rid of - it took such a long time! Later on the beach, Manky kept phoning Amy's phone off the hook and it took Jon to answer it for her and pretend to be her boyfriend. Jon was coming out with such fantastic one-liners, in a great foreign accent, as 'My name is Jeff. Amy is sick. She shit a lot. My dick is hard'. We were suitably in stitches.

On the coach back to Seoul the next day, I saw a travel version of Monopoly, but in Korean, and I translated it's title back to 'Hotel Win Game'. It's called that instead of Monopoly here. That made my day.

Enjoy the photos and there'll be another lot of bundled together words and photos up on this website soon - I've been informed by the owner of a Seoul website that my blog is very well known in Korea and asked to be a guest-columnist for said site. It has given me a buzz and the motivation to get back to writing regularly. Until then, the Korea Advisor is signing off.

Poetry Corner

2009-06-18T21:33:00.000-07:00

I'd like to share some poetry that my children have written for me. Keep in mind that they were crafted by 12 year old brats (spoilt little rich girls, and one easily led boy) who think their English is shit-hot. It's not. They think this to the extent that when they jumble together a sentence with awful grammar and words that just don't go together in a sentence, and I say 'That doesn't make sense!', they look at me like I'm stupid and a liar. There are kids here 3 years younger than them with far superior ability. In fact, these girls form my least favourite class. When they want to stop studying, they close their books and whack in their iPod headphones - this is normally 20 minutes into the lesson, not even halfway. But anyway, occasionally they give me reason to laugh.

Title: Oh, Beautiful (by Mary)

at morning,
she wake up like a aurora princess.
oh, she is so beautiful and fantastic!
when she has a breakfast,
she eat a soup like small lovely baby.
oh, she is so perfect.
oh, I know her secret
She is a princess.
Ha Ha
What a beautiful wonderful day.

Admittedly, that was pretty good. It's downhill from here.

Title: Hamster (by Libby)

My friends said
"Libby look likes Hamster!"
But, I don't like it.
My teacher said
"You look likes Hamster!"
I don't like it to, too,
But, I like White Rabbit.
Please say,
"You look like a White Rabbit!"

Yes Libby, but you look like a bloody hamster not a white rabbit so I'm going to continue to mock your face. Your spoilt, insolent face.

Title: I Like my Friend. Juliet! (by Juliet)

You. You Juliet. We are good friend
me, me Ye Jin
Cute, Cute Juliet looks like a chicken
Shiny, shiny Ye Jin looks like a cute teddy bear
I think many peoples looking at me
umm...perhaps my appearance?

Title: My New Name Friend Allan. (by Allan)

He is fun, fun, fun
like he is playing a game.
He is smart but he is stupid,
He likes a chicken
He is so diffirent (sic)
Also he breaking in my dinner.

Little morons.

The Everland trip was called off due to Saturday being the start of the monsoon season in North-East Asia. There was big, fat rain that bounced back off the ground and managed to completely soak your trousers and shirt through despite holding a large umbrella over one's head. Staying home was not an option however! Frank, Johnnie and I caught a bus to Jamsil then subway to Samseong - to the labyrinthine underground Co-Ex Mall. As we were walking down the steps to the subway platform at Jamsil, we saw a Korean girl at the bottom - doing her hair in front of a huge mirror that covered an entire wall. Johnnie and I were checking her out (she was stunning) and she saw us in the mirror and couldn't stop smiling. As we passed her at the bottom we saw that she was truly amazing. We both stuck our heads back around the corner to exchange cheeky smiles with her once more, and Johnnie asked 'Do you speak English?'. She said, 'Yes! I'm an English teacher at a public school'. We all got chatting and she told me she'd been to Taiwan twice already this year because it was such an incredible destination (Taiwan is where I'm going on my Summer trip next month!). Yun Jin was her name and she was also on the way to the Co-Ex Mall. We all travelled together and kept chatting. Johnnie got her number. I wanted it too but fair play to Johnnie-boy for having the balls to get in there first! We talked about it later and admitted we had both been nervous, and our hearts had been pumping fast beneath only a semi-convincing surface. BEAUTIFUL.

After some shopping (I bought the Lonely Planet guide to Taiwan), we had dinner in 'On the Border', a good mexican restaurant in the Mall. Then it was on to Itaewon for one of the craziest nights in recent memory. We started in a really special bar called Bungalow - low seats, sand on the floor, bohemian stylings, semi-open to the outside and expensive drinks. It was great. We then went to a big pub to watch the end of the Lions Vs. South Africa rugby match which looked like it was being streamed from someone's mobile phone internet service, such was the quality on a big widescreen TV. Later we ended up at a bar/club called The Loft. This was the setting for much fun for many an hour. Girls drink for free at The Loft. My female friends were off their heads, apart from Panda who is a good girl. Here are the boys.

The next day, I forced myself to go and do something so that the day wasn't lost to apathy. Penny and I caught the bus into Seoul and we went back to Itaewon, to one of our favourite watering holes The Wolfhound. Cracking Irish pub serving really authentic and delicious English food. Toad in the Hole, huge fry-ups, Cottage Pie, etc! Penny had Toad in the Hole, I had 'The Whole Shebang' (3 fried eggs, 3 sausages, 3 bits of bacon, hash browns, baked beans, tomatoes, four bits of toast and butter. I also had a pint of Guiness to wash it down with). When we had finished we moved upstairs just in time to catch the beginning of the Pub Quiz. We completed one round, with no help whatsoever from Penny. Useless! We left so as not to embarrass ourselves, and went to a live music bar called Woodstock. We walked in on an open mic night to some weird guy with a far-off glint in his eyes like he'd taken to much acid and seen all his friends die in Vietnam in consecutive years. He was speaking in a really weird voice and staring into the distance, saying 'Do you like Dunkin Doughnuts? Do you prefer Dunkin Doughnuts to Krispy Kreme? If you do, you're wrong'. It was like observational comedy, without the comedy, so just 'observational'. We got a drink and sat down right next to the stage to listen to some more poetry read by a younger man. He said 'This is my 'bitches are stupid' poem' at one point, not bad though. Then there was a bald American man playing the piano and a Korean man on the drums. They were enjoyable, especially for the singer/pianist's funny funny face. They got a big group of Korean men and Women screaming for more. Later we taxied to City Hall and walked to Cheonggyecheong - the man-made stream that runs for 6km though the centre of Seoul. It's so amazing after the sun has gone down. There are waterfalls, stepping stones, fountains, huge mist sprays, laser shows, music, bridges with exhibitions of photographs of the stream and of Seoul underneath. It's all completely free. Quite euphoric. I had been before but Penny hadn't. Here's a pick of us in front of a waterfall:

Et Voila. The End. Tonight was a good monday night because Frank, Jon and I went for Galbi at one of our favourite restaurants. Stuffed ourselves with Pork, kimchi, raw onions, then went for ice-cream afterwards. I have just realised I haven't cooked for myself at home for perhaps 6 weeks. That's a lot of eating out. Until the next blog, people!

Ganghwa-do

2009-06-15T09:08:00.000-07:00

Today was a stressful day at work. My director came into my classroom after the teachers' meeting (which I don't have to attend) and closed the door. I could sense something bad about to happen so I launched into a vivid and energetic account of my utterly amazing weekend.

On Saturday morning, I woke up at 8.30am (making the 13th June the day on which I woke up the earliest that I've been up in Korea) and got ready for a weekend trip. I met Frank and Jon at the bus stop and we jumped on the 1115 to Jamsil, before catching the subway to Sinchon from where we caught a coach to Ganghwa-do - an island in the West Sea, North-West of Seoul and at its Northern most tip one mile away from North Korea (across the Han river). We arrived in the main town on the island, Ganghwa-Eup, to humidity and a bus terminal that felt like we had stepped back a few decades in time. We jumped in a taxi to Eopori on the island's West coast. Here we wandered about in search of our friends Anda, Faye, Penny and Mike. The sun was beating down! We spotted them across a row of old Korean women selling their wares and pounced on them from behind. They had been up all night in Seoul and had caught the first bus to the island at about half 5 in the morning! They were operating on about an hours sleep and were at each others' throats, as if they had entered a twilight zone at some point in the previous night where they had lived for 7 months in the Big Brother house with no other human contact except each other. It was so good to see them! We caught a ferry from Eopori to another smaller island called Seokmodo. Here's some photos from the ferry ride and a video of the swarm of seagulls divebombing our heads in search of food.

Once on the island, we were about to hike it when some absolute genius said 'Let's hire bikes!'. We hired 8 of the island's finest for a few quid each for 3 hours. Then we set off through lush green rice paddies and smooth flat roads with little traffic on. We came to a steep hill which we climbed for a while before giving up and walking the bikes up. Mike and Frank carried on cycling up like madmen and in the process Frank broke the de-railers and his chain so we stopped on a steep incline, which was in turns quiet and very busy when the ferry came in. Frank free-wheeled back down the hill and we pushed on to find a good place to wait for him to come back with a new bike. Like a legend, he only took about half an hour so we pushed on. We had climbed to a peak and then had the pleasure of an incredible downhill section that we free-wheeled at very high speeds. It was amazing!

Later, we left our bikes at a shop and hiked uphill to the entrance to Bomunsa temple. We paid about a pound each and began a hike up such a steep hill that it was easier to take it walking backwards. At the top we were in a beautiful temple complex.

We sat cross-legged in a temple for a while and drifted away into a meditative state. Then it was 491 steps up the side of a mountain to reach the awesome cliff rock carving, and the starkly beautiful view looking back to the West from the top.

Later, we cycled around the rest of the island, which was in turns steep inclines and beautiful, exhilarating steep downhill sections. Then it was a long flat section through endless (and trust me, I wish they had been) rice paddies. The place was so deserted, at one point we cycled past a lone house where people were having a barbecue, and a few kilometres on I made a few people stop cycling to listen to the music the people had started playing. The place was so silent that the sound carried across the distance, and it was Opera music played through something that sounded like a World War II Era gramaphone - it was like a war-time French village in a moment of peace if you closed your eyes.

That night we stayed at a Pension on Dongmak Beach, back on Ganghwa island on the South Coast. 8 people to one room, on the floor, sharing each others' body heat and odours. But before bed it was an excellent drinking/chilling/frisbee beach extravaganza! We let of so many fireworks from our hands. Here's the video. Watch out for my disgusting behaviour with the roman candle between my legs (so glad my friends found this hilarious as it could have gone either way! keeping the happy gilmore spirit alive all these years later) and also Mike running in front of me and getting twatted in the back by one of my fireworks.

The next day we saw the Ganghwa Dolmen. An ancient tomb. Then caught a taxi through a military checkpoint to the Northern-most point of the island. We arrived at an observatory where we looked through telescopes across the Han River. We were one mile away from North Korea. Through the telescope I could see North Koreans working the fields of Commune farms. I've been studying North Korea for years. To be this close at last and to see them so clearly was mind-blowing. It felt like when I went to Auschwitz after studying that for years. Cathartic, in strange way.

It was a truly awesome weekend away. I won't be forgetting even the minutest detail any time soon. We are one cool bunch of adventurers!

Back in school, after telling my director this, he told me everything I need to change. It really stressed me out because it's all untrue. It stems from a class of kids last week writing on the board before a lesson 'Teacher, Game Day??'. He saw. Now he thinks that I just play games and do no work. He wants me to save games for the last five minutes and thinks I'm too relaxed with them. Only trouble is, I do save games for the last five minutes and I always get all the work done. I also make shitloads of activities for the kids including super-massive word searches that take an age to make. Due to communication barriers though he didn't understand me when I told him how I conduct my lessons. After this, the North Korea sirens went off in the street outside. They sound like war-time air-raid sirens. I began to think, What if they are for real? I spoke to Frank on Skype and he said he was speaking to his housemate about it. She said it was real. He said he was packing his things and that the North Korean Army had invaded on the East Coast. I questioned him and slowly began to believe it. I legged it to the window and saw people running out on the street below, then started panicking. 'You fucker, you had better not be having me on!' I yelled down the phone. I jumped in to the lift with my co-teacher Joy and she asked me why I looked so scared. I said, 'I'm on the phone to my friend and he says the siren is for real!'. She looked shocked. Then Frank said 'Mate, I'm only winding you up'. I ran back to my classroom to ride out the sense-of-humour-failure that I was suffering. How gullible can you be! Only now, Frank has played the 'Boy who cried wolf' card and when they do actually invade I'll just stay chilling at my desk whilst everyone is running for the hills. The day ended and I was stressed, but felt a huge sense of achievement because my director had sat in on one of my lessons and I'd shown him what a bloody awesome teacher I am.

Booyah!

Until next time party peeps. This weekend... Everland! (To involve some of the biggest rollercoasters in the world and the immense water park Caribbean Bay).

Proof I'm Not Dead (The last 3 weekends)

2009-05-14T23:22:00.000-07:00

8.25am, Saturday 9th May (Weekend one) - I was sitting on a coach full of screaming children, drifting in and out of consciousness with my head lolling back and forth, occasionally choking on my own tongue. On the coach also were my co-teachers and director, and we were bound for the 'Happy Suwon English Village'! Oh, what joy. Now if only I hadn't been drinking and karaoke-ing until after 3.30am the night before. In fact, less than 5 hours previously to this exact moment I had been necking a beer and screaming the words to a Blondie song. I had woken up to a mobile phone ringing urgently next to my head. It turned out to be my own. My director was calling to tell me I should have been at school twenty minutes ago, so I muttered my apologies so quickly that not only could a Korean man not understand me, but you would have needed the Scatman to translate for you. That way I hoped to convey the urgency with which I was now on my way to school, and not be further questioned on the matter. Now I was on the coach, with one of my favourite students Jennifer behind me walloping me on the head and screeching 'BEN, HAAAAAAAAAA!!'.

Once at 'Happy Suwon English Village', the kids checked in to a mock airport, were given fake passports and interrogated a bit in English. Very happy so far. The place was inside, and consisted of two large floors with many different mocked up rooms - apparently supposed to give a feel of what it's like to live in the West. It didn't. Also the Westerners that worked there were world weary and sucked the life out of the kids to the extent that I wanted to ask them where exactly they were depositing it. 'NO KOREAN OKAY???!!!!!! NO, LISTEN!! LISTEN!! GODDAMN LITTLE BRATS!!'. Truly horrible. At halfway point we walked quite far outside in the midday sun to another building where lunch was served. My colleagues said 'Are you excited Ben? It's Tomato Spaghetti!'. For a moment I did get excited. Then my hopes were dashed. For some reason though, the kids reported back that they'd had a huge amount of fun, and even I had a good day because I got to know my co-teachers a lot better. Thanks Happy Suwon English Village!

That night we were at the 3rd Seoul World DJ Festival. It was excellent and had everything a gritty big clubbing festival should have, minus the gurning faces because this is South Korea we're talking about - where a single drag on a joint means a prison sentence. I didn't arrive until midnight because of the school trip and a really long dinner with my director and co-teachers afterwards (followed by an ecruciating 25 stops on the subway to get anywhere near the dancefest). I met Penny and Ruby at the train station - we sat on a picnic table outside a convenience store (they have their own beer gardens here, the cheapest way to drink out ever). I had a big bottle of Cass and after the conversation turned to Beondegi, I felt it a good idea to try them at a street-food stall. Beondegi translates as Silk Worm Pupae. The silk worm encloses itself in a cocoon in preparation for its transformation into a Silk Moth, but they never make it as people in the far-east boil and eat them. Penny, Ruby and I walked to the food stall and ordered a bowl. The smell was horrendous. I have heard that they were eaten in the past when people were so poor they couldn't afford anything else, and now they are too damn proud to admit that they are absolutely vile - instead they pretend to love them. In actual fact I haven't come across a single young person who doesn't think they are disgusting, a fact which adds strength to the above argument. Penny cued up my camera to record a video and I skewered a dark brown, ribbed silk worm cocoon with a cocktail stick. The video speaks for itself so scroll down the page to find it a few posts down. My teeth burst the beondegi and it ejaculated puss all over the inside of my mouth, sticking to behind my teeth and the roof of my mouth. No swigs of beer could get rid of it, and I heaved many times. The worst thing I've eaten in my life so far, swallowing it was a nightmare. If you look at the end of the video, I give a quick cheeky grin and nod to the owners of the food stall because they werre looking confused in my general direction. Crazy westerner! I carried the tub of beondegi with me to the festival and tried to make people eat them - Panda did and she still holds it against me. Most of my friends were heavily sauced by the time I got there. Things were going brilliantly until an unlikely fight kicked off. It led to Panda being punched in the face by a tattooed arsehole of a Korean man, and that in turn led to Mike 'The Olsenator' Olsen ripping off his shirt and leaping towards the pathetic coward like an enraged grizzly bear. Revenge was sweet, shall we say.

At about 6.00am, Frank and I stumbled onto a random bus (the ability to think rationally had left us) and let it drive us to god knows where. It ranked up there with the stupidest things we've done in Korea so far. We sat on the floor in the aisle and just rode it for an indeterminate amount of time. Surprisingly enough, we did make it home to Pyeongnae.

About 6 hours later and I had to be up again. I had agreed to play wingman to Frank on a double-date in Seoul. Frank had told me a little white lie to get me along, saying his girl had invited an attractive friend along on the date. When we met them at Wangsimni subway station I could see however that it was the same friend that had been with her on the night out in Itaewon where we'd met them a week previously. So my task for the afternoon/evening was to fake interest in a girl who looked like Mickey Rourke. Damn you Frank! We attempted to climb Namsan but gave up when we couldn't find the steps up the side of the hill, so we descended into Itaewon and caught the local bus to the Korean War memorial park. Giant, emotive bronze statues heroically depicting the 3 year conflict.

Later we had a Thai meal in Itaewon. I overheard the Korean girls talking very quickly in their own language and managed to pick out of their conversation that they wanted to take us to a DVD Bang. This is where Korean couples go to do certain things on a date. It's a private room with a sofa/bed and a private cinema screen. You pay for the film and lock yourselves away for a few hours. I was not about to be leaped on in a darkened room by this girl, so I said I had to leave. Before we went home on the subway, we went to Coldstone Creamery for an ice cream. Needless to say, my 'date' had the biggest ice-cream in the shop.

Weekend two - Friday night we said we wouldn't drink as we'd been invited to the DMZ to peer into North Korea through telescopes from the top of a mountain. Unfortunately the trip was cancelled due to bad weather so we ended up drinking beer at a Jay's DnB and eating Polish dogs of the sausage variety.

The next day I went to Seoul with Frank and the new guy in town, Jon. We went to Insadong - the traditional area of Seoul with narrow old streets, tea rooms and art galleries. We found a quaint little tea shop with miniature streams flowing and trees inside. I had the 'five senses tea' which stimulates each area of your tongue at the same time. It was intense but really pleasant. Frank and Jon had some odd, dark tea which had a syrup-like consistency. We took a break from talking about girls to debate British politics, then we walked North and then West in seach of Jogyesa temple. It's one of the oldest Buddhist temples in Seoul, and beautiful. It's so strange to be in this tranquil environment and to be able to hear the sounds of the city so clearly in the background - but you still feel at peace. We walked in on a busy ceremony, found a prayer mat and a space on the floor and sat down to meditate. It was quite the hangover cure. Afterwards, I bought some beautiful prayer beads and have hardly taken them off since. In the shower, the wood becomes so fragrant. I keep smelling my wrist. It is also enjoyable to watch the Catholics' faces contort when they see them on display. But what can they say - Buddhism is deeply ingrained in their cultural history, and no blinkered Christian missionary on a conversion crusade can do a thing to change that. Unfortunately, the Christian President and his entirely non-Buddhist cabinet can and are sidelining the Buddhists. It is truly a sad thing.

That night we went to the Wolfhound in Itaewon, before getting a taxi to Hongdae for a party night. It was heavy and a blur but we had fun. We found an underground live music bar where a really good Western band were playing brilliant covers of songs by Sublime, and other such stuff. Really enjoyed it. Then we ended up upstairs in a sweaty bar/club, possibly called GoGo's. Rob and I chatted up two Korean girls who seemed to really like us, and I scored lots of points by saying 'My name is Ben, What is yours?' all in perfect Korean. Then I was stuck as I didn't know anymore. I lost my glasses in the taxi on the way home. My friends were telling me that they were in the taxi as it was driving off, but I was simply unable to process the information. In fact, I remember watching the taxi driving off up the road and actually knowing they were in there - but I was thinking 'Oh, they'll turn up somewhere'. Idiot. Sunday was a write-off.

Weekend three - I finished work at 8.30pm and jumped in a taxi to Donong station, then from there I made my way on a painfully slow and cramped journey to Suwon - provincial capital of Gyeonggi-Do, where myself and some friends intended to catch the night train to Busan for the weekend. We missed it. Instead, we went to a Noraebang in Suwon, got drunk and had the best Karaoke experience of my life - it really was that excellent.

We had just emereged from the noraebang and onto the street when a Korean couple, or what I thought was a couple, approached us and told us how beautiful we all were! The girl was touching our faces, getting photos taken with us and handing us business cards - then telling us about some make-up model agency. We crossed the road and got into two seperate taxis to take us to a bar called Crazy Ducks - half way across the city. We were speeding along at 75mph and a huge industrial truck swerved in front of us from a hidden side road at the last minute. It was going at 20mph. I don't think I've ever been so close to death - everyone was screaming 'FUCK! WE NEARLY DIED!!', as you might imagine you would if you nealy died. Crazy Ducks was anything but, except jagerbombs were served and I told the bar girls they were pretty. There was a fat older westerner in a Harley Davidson jacket who seemed normal enough, until I was in the toilets and so was he except he thought he was the only one in there - and he began whispering to himself in a horror-film-been-posessed kind of voice about killing people upstairs in the bar and how they all deserved to die. We danced and Amy fell off her chair. The End.

The next day we all met back up in an area of Suwon called Youngtong for a huge late lunch at Outback. Australian steak house. I had the Sirloin, medium-rare, with chips and onion rings and a side order of a big chicken breast! Penny notably had a rib-eye with 'Death by Garlic' sauce. Mmmmm! We all had fun stuffing ourselves with food and pints of coke whilst piecing together the night before and laughing hysterically at stories such as when Faye had been trying to buy cigarettes but couldn't get the store-owner to understand her. The ones she wanted were Marlboros in a special metal tin. She was saying 'Marlboro Amazings, please!'. I had told her this is what they were called. I was lying, and it was fun! After Outback, we found a DVD Bang (remember I mentioned one of those earlier?) and watched Sin City. They really are a fantastic idea, whether you choose to use them as a private cinema or as a place for sexy sex!

Later, we caught the bus from Suwon to Seoul-Gangnam and had the first pint of the evening in Castle Praha - an authentic Czech Beer Hall. Some of you might know that I want to open one of these up in the UK, so it was interesting to see someone else's interpretation of one. The beer was brewed in the back and was really very good. The black beer tasted just like the Black beer I'd had in Prague that made me want to open one in the first place! After that we subwayed to Itaewon to meet Panda, on the way getting on the same train as Frank who was coming to meet the lot of us. Once in Itaewon, we looked for a recommended live Jazz bar called 'All That Jazz'. Mike Olsen and Chuen-geung arrived. Great music and atmosphere, which saw us for a few hours before we wandered across the street to the 'Reggae Bar'. It was little more than what the title suggested. Another few hours there and we were ready for a club. It was about 4 in the morning by this point. We walked up the main drag, past hooker hill, stopping at various street food stalls to snack before turning right up another red-light street. We saw a sign written in Russian and lots of people milling in and out of the building, so we thought why not! Once inside, it was the strangest place I've ever been in my life. It was filled with Russians, Kazahkstanis and really odd people. Its name translated into English meant 'International Bar' and it really didn't let down. The guy with the pony tail in the photos below came up to Penny on the dance floor and said 'Alrahht Babeee, are you ready?' - then he danced like it was 1999 in downtown Vladivostock. It was hilarious!

I have nearly finished regailing you with my tales. Don't stop reading now.

The following day, I met Frank and we caught a bus to Donong Station. Here we were picked up by his ex-co-teacher, a Korean man named Simpson. Simpson drove us to Mang-u-ri park just inside the borders of Seoul. A steep and winding road led us up to a car park where numerous Korean families were setting off on hikes towards Mang-u mountain. We hiked for roughly 3km before reaching the mountain, and after a long and joyous climb we reached the summit. This wasn't before Simpson had looked at his watch and said 'Shall we turn back towards the car?'. I said 'No, please can we keep going to the summit?'. I needed to feel that sense of achievement that goes with such things. The scenery and greenery was undeniably Far-Eastern and the temperature was very warm. The views from the top were immense - looking out over Seoul in all directions. All in all we were hiking for over 3 and a half hours. It was one of my favourite days so far in Korea because I felt alive - the heart was pumping and the senses were alert. Simpson invited us for dinner at his family home, where we met his wife, son, daughter and mother. The daughter was apparently very shy, but that didn't stop her from waiting until no-one was looking before she ran up to me and punched me as hard as she could in the bollocks. It caught me off guard and I had to keep quiet in my agony - who would have understood me, let alone believed me? Sneaky little cow. We ate lots of different things wrapped inside seaweed and sesame leaves (fillings including fly-fish eggs, surimi, ham, egg, cucumber, carrot, radish etc), then there was serving after serving of rice and tofu soup and a big box of fried chicken in a spicy sauce. Not forgetting two varieties of kimchi and fresh fruit for desert. Simpson later dropped us in Guri from where we caught the bus back to Pyeongnae. Then Frank and I went to Suyouki and got pissed on a Sunday night before school.

Only messing with you - we went home to bed, severe mental and physical exhaustion had set in!

This blog brings me up to date. This weekend I am escaping on my own to Seoraksan national park to climb mountains, meditate in temples and by waterfalls - and just not drink alcohol in general. It's been non-stop so far. Work and play. Here are the mountain climbing pictures.

Backpack to Busan

2009-05-11T22:04:00.000-07:00

Frank, Mike and I were waiting at Seoul Express Bus Terminal a couple of Fridays ago. The train down to Busan on the South-East coast was fully booked so we bought 'deluxe' bus tickets then went to have dinner at a Korean soup & rice restaurant. I decided against 'spine soup' in favour of bibimbap. We had a few beers then headed outside to the convenience store and bought some wine. The lady at the ticket desk had assured us there would be a toilet on board (by 'assured' I mean waved us away whilst saying 'neh, neh, neh'), so we decided it would be okay to drink before the four hour journey. A few minutes before we boarded the coach Mike began beatboxing and Frank said 'Oh yeah I can freestyle' so I said 'Cool, go on then'. Mike set the beat and Frank stepped up to the imaginary microphone. Yo, his palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy, there is vomit on his sweater already, Mum's spaghetti, he's nervous but on the surface he looks calm and ready to drops bombs... and so on and so forth. Frank opens his mouth and spits out 'Yo yo yo I'm standin at the bus station smokin a cigarette...' then he chokes, stutters and completely fluffs it. The anti-climax hangs in the air before we all burst into fits of laughter.

On the bus we could instantly see that there wasn't a toilet. With the seal well and truly broken on our bladders this caused us to panic quite a bit. Ten minutes into the journey, Frank and I were desperate. Let's just say it was a sprint to the toilet at the half-way service station restbreak. At 4.30am we arrived into Busan bus station and haggled a taxi driver down to 20,000 won to take us to Haeundae beach. He drove at 140kph through the city - I think he'd been drinking quite a lot. At the beach we played with an anchor before meeting Anda and her friend Rob who was visiting from the UK. The sun was well and truly risen - no cab driver with a death wish could have got us there in time to see it, but it was pretty amazing to be at the beach (and such a good one at that). Tiredness was creeping through my limbs at this point so it was good news to hear a big jimjilbang was just around the corner.

The jimjilbang was called the Haeundae Spa Centre and occupied the 4th, 5th and 6th floors of a big building - about a ten minute walk from the beach. We paid our 7,800 won, about 4 pounds, and said goodbye to Anda. Korean Jimjilangs are divided into male and female sections, and in this case men and women had their own floors. So the guys walked through into the changing rooms, were handed pyjamas/uniforms then it was to the lockers to get completely naked in front of people I'd known for no longer than five weeks (some only a few hours). Through some glass doors we grabbed towels that were purposely not suitable to wrap around your waist, and had a shower in front of an audience of perhaps 30 naked Korean men oggling our bits. I suppose it's their only chance to compare. Sad to say most of them will have gone home feeling pretty bad about themselves. There were loads of beer-belly owning Korean businessmen sitting on plastic stools to shower (how do I know they were businessmen, you ask? Good question! An educated guess). They looked like they had been out on business parties the night before and were now scrubbing from head to toe, using an entire block of soap to rid themselves of the smell of Soju, sweat and the musk of Russian prostitutes (picked up at Busan's infamous Texas street - the Russian mafia owned part of the city). There's a shocking statistic actually about the percentage of Korean husbands who regularly cheat on their wives with prostitutes, the wives know about it but because of the culture are unable to do anything about it. It is at least 70 percent of men. No wonder the ladies like western men! In fact, in 2006 The Ministry for Gender Equality, in an attempt to address the issue of demand for prostitutes among businessmen, offered cash to companies whose male employees pledged not to pay for sex after office parties. Where was I? With eyes fixed firmly at face level, we lowered ourselves into a massive hot-tub and relaxed for a while. Then it was on to an even bigger pool with showers so powerful that it is impossible not to make a noise underneath them. Rather like 'AHHHHHHHOOOOOOWWWWWOWOOWOWOWOWAAAAA!!!'. If you forced your spine to be straight then it felt like your head was being fired into by multiple Uzis. After this there were a couple of different saunas. A dry sauna set at 80 degrees, a dry sauna set at 94 degrees and a wet sauna set at 56 degrees. Which one felt the hottest? The wet 56 degree sauna. It was so unbelievably hot, to be stood up was not an option - it brought back nightmares of having one's head plunged into a deep-fat fryer (you know, the ones everyone got after watching that episode of Spooks). Later on, we put our pyjamas and took the lift upstairs to sleep. A 'bed' for the night is included in the four pound fee. Bed = a space on the heated floor in the communal chilling out zone, a blanket and a wooden block for a pillow. The trick is to steal 2 or 3 blankets, fold them up and put them on top of the wooden block. I think most of us got a pretty shit few hours sleep. It was a strange experience sleeping on the floor with over 100 other people wearing the same clothes as you, and there's lots of background noise and the occasional member of staff dragging a stack of blankets over your legs. We got up, had a shazz, got dressed and headed out into this new and wonderful metropolis-on-sea.

Later we found ourselves miles away from Haeundae, following our noses as we attempted to locate Jagalchi fish market. We wandered through narrow old streets lined with basketfuls of dried fish and jars of alien-looking ginseng roots. I've become quite partial to a few cups of ginseng tea a day, but the dried fish on offer just makes me wonder who eats them and exactly how seeing as they have probably been buried underground for a couple of years and no longer appear to have any edible body parts left. We found the big live fish market and went inside. I was wearing flip-flops which was treacherous, and the foam soles soaked up all the fish juice and blood. There was all manner of things squirming around and old women skinning eels alive and chucking their snake-like bodies onto a pile of yet more - it was quite mesmerising to watch their death throes.

We were getting hungry despite all the blood and guts and killing, so climbed the stairs up to the restaurant floor where there were perhaps 30 different sit-on-the-floor sashimi restaurants to choose from. But all the propietors were trying to choose you, fighting for your business and being really forceful about it. We walked around until we found one that didn't pressurise us too much and sat down cross-legged on mats and ordered a raw-fish-feast for four people (at the cost of 15,000 won each - about 8 pounds). We started with 'appetisers' of a tray of sea-snail whelks, plus edemame beans and strange little oranges. Robert and Thomas dived in first, piercing the slimy little fuckers with cocktail sticks and yoiking them from the shell, pulling with it a trail of snotty slime. Anda and I were freaking out a bit (Anda was strangely high-pitched for her and was saying 'Oh my god I'm not normally like this ahhhh ewwww oh my god!'). But in the end we cheersed it and got munching on them. The taste was actually good. Then came a platter of raw sea urchin, octopus tentacle cross-sections, chunks and slithers of raw sea-cucumber (freaky penis-like creatures, not some kind of harmless ocean vegetable) that was still writhing about in the dish because it had just been cut up completely alive. There was a tasty cooked prawn for each of us and a two whole barbecued sardines/mackerel, as if to reassure us this was supposed to be a pleasurable dining experience. The writhing sea-cucumber was by far the worst thing, and had to be chewed before swallowing. It was horrendous and I heaved a couple of times. Afterwards I was physically shaking! Yes, yes, I may get accusations of being pathetic but at least I'll try anything that comes my way and put it in my mouth - doesn't mean I have to pretend to enjoy it. Then a giant platter of sashimi, completely raw fish, was placed before us. I really like sashimi and we got to wrap it up in leaves with a bit of sauce and salad - loved it. Afterwards when we were all full, a giant pan of fish soup was brought to the table and allowed to cook for a while. Every bit of the fish was in their, including two ugly fish heads. Full of garlic and delicious!

Later on Saturday afternoon we walked through a couple of kilometres of shop and market-lined narrow streets towards Busan tower, located in Yandusan Park in Nampodong. To get to it we walked up the hillside road, which was lined with trees and foliage on both sides. It was beautiful. Like Namsan in Seoul, it's a peaceful escape from the activity and commotion down below. At the top there was a live rock band playing to a large audience, whilst being filmed for TV.

The view from the top of the tower was pretty amazing.

On the way back down, Frank and I found some modern art inspired by the gas masks that are found in every subway station and had this photo taken.

On the way down to street level we took a different route and looked to our right to see some alluring steps. We climbed them and wonderfully serene faces greeted us, bowed and said welcome in a foreign tongue. At the top it was clear to see why - it was a beautiful Buddhist temple. We removed shoes and entered inside. I received a swift telling off for sitting directly in front of the big central statue of Buddha, but after apologising the monk chose me as the person whom he would impart some of his knowledge to. It's always the way. Teachers end up liking the naughty ones the best. He sat next to me on a mat and showed me how to sit properly whilst in a state of meditation. It was impossible for me because I had such skinny jeans on and this confused him. Then he showed me how to place my hands in my lap and began talking to me in Korean about Buddhism. The only words I recognised were Amitābha, cosmos and 'at one'. Then he taught me how to stand up and bow correctly. It was quite a special 15 minutes.

Down at the bottom of the hill, Anda, Rob and Thomas decided to go and relax in a cinema. Frank, Mike and I didn't share this dream and so we jumped back on the subway and travelled to an area of the city called Seomyeon. A double expresso was downed and we pushed on down bustling backstreets lined with street-food stalls until we found what we'd been looking for. Barony Brahaus is a microbrewery that Lonely Planet tells you does an all you can eat and drink buffet for 16,000 won. The most up to date copy in the shops is a little out of date. They stopped doing it a while back, but we stayed anyway as there was a 12,000 won all you can drink option plus a not-too-expensive food menu. 6 pounds for as much beer you can possibly squeeze into 4 hours is pretty good in my opinion, especially when it's good dark ale brewed in the back. I must admit we got pretty drunk and that was only the warm-up for the night ahead. After a while we invited a couple of Korean girls over to our table. They weren't very attractive but we had a long chat, got one of their numbers which I didn't remember about until I found it on my phone 5 days later. We left when they began to look attractive because we knew that it was a trick of the inebriated mind - a walk and some fresh air was needed. Later we had sobered up quite a bit, and met up with Anda, Rob and Thomas. We were now in a University area of Busan called Kyungsung & Pukyong and walking towards a bar cleverly titled 'Thursday Party' (!). It was one of the best bars I've been to in Korea so far, not least because it had table football. It was a Corona table so one team's players were all Corona bottles and the other's were lime wedges! Mike and I had a pretty intense game, which I lost - but not without putting up a fight. We attempted to chat up two very fit Korean girls (seriously, they were gorgeous) sitting at a table together. They seemed interested but they spoke no English at all, and it's hard to chat a girl up using my current Korean database of 'Hello, I would like this one please, how much? i'm sorry, goodbye'. Well actually I suppose you could, but you'd leave the bar with a big red hand-print on your face.

Later that night, Frank, Mike and I had seperated from Anda, Rob and Thomas and made our way across the road to a club called 'Ghetto'. It was a despicable hub of sweat, overcrowding far beyond capacity and shit music. If there had been a fire we would have all been fucked - there would have been people leaping from the balcony and a big smouldering pile of what once were humans broken on the street below. I would never normally get all health and safety, but it really was that big a heap of fetid, steaming dog diarrhea. Earlier in the night we had met Tash, one of Mike's girlfriend's friends. She seemed to take nearly an instant disliking to poor old Frank. It first bordered on a strong sense of confusion as to his existence on this planet, followed by homicidal rage. Turns out it was just somewhere down the evolutionary line of when you used to be mean to girls or boys you liked at Primary school, because in Ghetto I turned round at the bar to see them pulling. Having said that it might have been my imagination, like a blurry desert mirage caused by the insanity inducing heat and humidity in the club. Thankfully we returned to Thursday Party, and drank some more. Then my memory takes me to a convenience store near Haeundae beach. I bought some Korean raspberry and plum wine and a hard boiled egg. Outside I cracked the egg on my head like Korean teenagers do, only to find that it wasn't a hard-boiled egg at all. It was raw and all over my hair! We kicked back on the beach for a few hours, dodged hand-held fireworks that Mike bought off an Ajemar (strange, visor-wearing, middle-aged Korean ladies who wander about selling random crap from their bags). One came up to us and tried to sell us 4 warm cans of beer for 10,000 won. When we told her no she got really angry and started trying to communicate a sob story to us that I think was about her ill mother who lived near by. Piss off love, this isn't the X-Factor, sob stories don't work with us - especially when we could go get 10 cold ones for that price at the shop a few minutes walk away. Then things got REALLY blurry and I was in Lotteria with Frank, Tash and another girl watching them eat chicken. I wandered outside and there was a Korean man revving up a super-car on the street. I stumbled up to the window and leant in. I must have said 'Give us a ride mate!' because ten seconds later I was in the passenger seat being driven at 90mph up side streets, dodging in an out of traffic and parked cars. I think it was exhilerating. I certainly shat myself a bit. Not literally! He kindly deposited me back onto the pavement where I'd got in. I don't think anyone back inside believed my story. The next morning Frank and I awoke to a strange Korean lady bursting through a door screaming something at us. Where the hell were we? Why were we lying on a floor in a room we didn't recognise? How had we gotten there? Turns out we were in a motel. We got up, had a shit shower and prepared for another packed day. We wandered outside into the sunlight and tried to figure out where we were. It must be near Haeundae, we speculated. We walked for about ten minutes until we found a really big street, turns out it was Seomyeon which is miles away from Haeundae. We went to Lotteria and I had two burgers for breakfast (I disgust myself), then we went for a coffee and a smoothie which sorted us out to a certain extent.

Mike was stuck in Haeundae for the day, unable to withdraw cash from ATMs. Frank had to get the afternoon KTX (bullet train) back to Seoul, but I persuaded him that he had time to travel north out of Busan and into the countryside. Beomeosa Temple. The subway whisked us out of the city and towards hills and moutains covered with green. At Beomeosa subway station we hailed a cab, and just as the driver was about to put his foot down Frank spotted two backpackers. We shouted out the window 'Are you going to the temple??!'. They were so they got in too and then we were away. It was about a 15 minute ride to the temple, up steep hills and around tight, blind corners which the taxi driver felt no qualms about overtaking on. It was quite sad that at the top Frank saw one percent of the temple then had to turn back towards the city to get his train. He was only there for two minutes and didn't even see the weather transform the scenery! I was still waiting for Anda, Rob, Thomas, Faye and Penny to arrive (Faye and Penny had caught the train that morning after staying up all night for a big one in Seoul - party girls!! They also brought their co-teacher friend Luna), so I asked the two backpackers Erica and Declan if I could wander round with them. They kindly said yes of course. It had been Buddha's birthday the day before so the entire place was decorated with thousands of colourful lanterns. It was one of the most beautiful places I've ever visited! We attempted to climb the mountain that was reached up a path from the temple. We climbed for 20 minutes but after seeing a sign telling us we were 0.2km into the climb and 2.6km left to go - and with no water, we decided to turn back. Later I met up with everyone and we attempted the climb again, this time armed with multi-cans of Pocari Sweat. We got about as far as the first attempt, but this time we found a small sign directing us to another temple on the side of the mountain. We were all so happy to have followed the sign (which pointed us up a path off the main climb), because it was even more beautiful than the main temple complex. A kind monk welcomed us to his temple and introduced us to his Buddhist dogs (who were very friendly). There were many small paths leading up the hill from the temple and at the top of one we found a small cave shrine. I sat down cross-legged inside and took this photo:

And here are some more of the temple and the climb. One of the best bits of sightseeing I've ever done.

It was a real shame Frank left because he missed out on Gwangalli Beach and the fun that we had there. Such fun that cannot be measured by any known device or scale of measurement, or described suitably by words that exist in my vocabulary. And trust me, my vocabulary is colossal. I just have to dumb it down for my blog so that tiny brains can understand what I iz sayin, yeh blud?! So myself, Anda, Faye, Penny, Luna, Rob and Thomas (Mike joined later) went for dinner on the beach-front. Everyone had kimchi soup except me who had Bibimbap. I had to surgically remove Faye's egg (sounds more dodgy if I pause here with some parentheses) from her soup before she either vomited or ran from the restaurant screaming. Penny and I adore Garth Marenghi's Darkplace and we only bloody forgot to say 'It's egg in soup... here let me cuddup your pork pie...'. Dissaspointing! Then we bought beers, water and general supplies from the convenience store and found a spot on the beach near to a giant circle of Korean drummers. They were playing some beats that really got the adrenaline flowing and most of us felt the compulsion to dance our flip-flops off, so this is what we did for a good long while before collapsing into the sand and getting good and drunk. I had my laptop and speakers so choons were listended to and conversations had. Anda and Mike wrestled like little scallywags, and Penny was buried like a sand-clad mermaid. It was one of the best nights ever. It was warm enough to just sit out and enjoy it. Here's some photos from the night:

That night Mike and I shared a 'Love Motel' bedroom for about 6 pounds/12,500 won each. The room came complete with a circular double bed (which I described to someone later as spherical) and a shower head for two people. We bedded down and got a good sleep!

The next few days were a brilliant extension of the first few days. Beaches (Gwangalli and Haeundae - Monday night ended with a beach bonfire built by our very own legendary wild man of the woods Mike Olsen!), drinking (Monday night was chicken and beer at Gwangalli, then back to Thursday Party!) and back for some more jimjilbang action. Tuesday brought with it the nicest weather so far, it was baking hot and so pleasurable to sit out in - I could literally feel my pale skin producing Vitamin D and the cells jumping for joy. Unfortunately that afternoon it was necessary to catch the train back to Seoul. I hadn't bought a ticket and the trains were practically sold out. Our taxis got us to Busan station at exactly the time our train was due to depart. We ran through the ticket barriers and down to the platfrom only to find it pulling away! The decision was made to wait half an hour for the next bullet train and fare-jump it. It turned out to be a good decision. Apparently no-one checks tickets in Korea. Just over 2 and a half hours later we were at Seoul Station. What a holiday. I suffered from strong urges over the next few days to be back in Busan and back in the company of the people I went with. It wasn't long to wait before I saw them again though.

Some extra photos.

In the next post - and I know it's been a while - all about my first school field-trip and the awesome 3rd Seoul World DJ Festival.

The eatings of silk worm pupae

2009-05-09T21:13:00.000-07:00

Photos - Backpack to Busan (2nd - 5th May)

2009-05-05T22:00:00.000-07:00

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Jimmy Two-Dinners

2009-04-29T07:25:00.000-07:00

Not a mafia henchman, but rather a description of my evening.

After work, Frank took me to the local gym. It's right next door to where I work, therefore fulfilling the exact criteria that I need in order to go on any sort of regular basis. Everyone picks up clean and pressed gym uniforms on the way to the changing rooms - no need to bring your own. Frank and I were holding up orange tops to see if they fitted before I spotted a few girls laughing at us, and quickly realised the orange was for women and the blue was for men. Working out in uniform felt a bit like I was Winston Smith, just finished work for the day at the Ministry of truth. Well, perhaps I would be at the gym if I wasn't at home downing Victory-brand gin and having illegal thoughts. I went running, cycling, did all of the machine weights that I recognised, followed by 40 sit-ups. Went in the steam room before getting changed which was worth the 7000 won alone. I nearly fell asleep!

Once outside, we wandered around looking for a new restaurant to have dinner, eventually deciding on one because it looked cool inside (going against the rule of eat where the locals eat - this one was empty). We had a tough time ordering. Pointing at the pictures and saying 'hana' is all good until the guy chucks a few questions in Korean at you, that must be answered before the order can be taken. It becomes a stalemate situation. Sweat begins to appear on foreheads. There is silence until young children begin to cry from the tension in the air. Fortunately no children here. The man eventually gave up and decided to just give us what we pointed at, which turned out to be pork meat marinated in honey and sesame seeds that we cooked ourselves, rice, various salads, tofu and onion soup, thinly sliced onions in vinegar with a hint of wasabi, etc. Once the pork was cooked we ate and it was really good. But the gym had made us crave a big pot of egg each so we paid up a couple of quid each and walked around the corner to one of our cheap favourites. Frank just had a pot of scrambled egg but I had a pot of egg, two big strips of belly pork, enough hot kimchi for two, more salads and leaves - and by the end of it I had successfully had two dinners in the space of an hour (and spent no more than 10,000 won/5 pounds on myself).

I'm letting the kids make their own abstract drawings to decorate my classroom:

I love the one above and on the left-hand side of the photo - 'She is very Prtty' and then a big capital 'E' slotted in at the bottom to correct her own spelling.

I love the manga-stylings of some of them. Some of them, however, are shit.

In the photo above, the top right frog is mine. Well good innit. Complete with separate glued on tongue that pokes out of the mouth to catch the stuck on fly. It's all in the detail. But oh look, there's a leather-jacketed punk with a red beak, drawn by Jump 2's very own Chris. He pisses about, doesn't ever do his homework, fails tests spectacularly and is just generally a fat dumbass. But after this glorious demonstration of control and beauty, all is forgiven Chris, all is forgiven.

And here's the ever-present strawberry dangling out of my pocket. Alice's gift that I spoke about in my last post:

Tambourine Theft - 10 years if convicted. Shit.

2009-04-28T00:46:00.002-07:00

On Friday, one of my students hand-crafted me a big felt strawberry with pearly beads for pips that is a 'dangle' to attach to the end of my phone. It hangs out of my pocket and was quite the fashion statement/conversation piece over the weekend! I think in her head we are best friends. Her face lights up when she sees me and she becomes somewhat hyperactive. Her accent is sometimes difficult to understand but every lesson she tells me, without fail, that Chinese people eat cockroaches - then she falls about laughing. We're supposed to work from a text book, but because I'm solo tutoring her it doesn't matter how fast we get through it. A few lessons of pure conversation are helpful in my opinion, and the text book makes me want to simultaneously laugh, cry and smash my head through a window - teaching stories about a turtle getting mugged in a New York back alley by a gang of snails. I mean, why not a bloody tortoise? That would be far more credible! I was invited to my director's house on the Friday night after my first week teaching - we ate one of the best meals I've had out here. Prepared for hours by his wife, although it was frustratingly only the men who were allowed to sit at the dinner table to enjoy it. The women had to make themselves scarce in a side room, occasionally coming to check if we needed any more side dishes. She had made huge beef ribs, slow-cooked for a few hours in a rich sauce, and plenty of side dishes including scary looking scabbard fish,

anchovies, a salad of fruit, vegetables and hard boiled egg in a creamy sauce, and plenty of rice. Mr Kim and I knocked back rather a few big old shots of thick plum wine that had been handmade by his mother - it was really strong and really good. I sat down in the living room in amongst all of the Roman Catholic paraphernalia and played jenga and dominoes with his children for nearly two hours. I was exhausted and just wanted bed, but I carried on. Alice and Nick are quite hyperactive and love games - and this is what lessons are like with them. But I'm all up for a high energy lesson, thereby earning their affection and big felt strawberries for the end of my phone.

Last Friday night I finished school at 9.20pm, as I do every night, then met Frank, Johnnie and Brent for galbi at our favourite tasty barbequed pork restaurant. It didn't dissappoint and this time we also went for rice and soup for an extra 50p - very good. It was like a fish stock with spring onions floating in it. Rice on spoon, ricey spoon in the soup, bring soupy ricey spoon to mouth and put inside. Yumbunctious! as Ken Dodd might say if he was to try it. Then we bought big bottles of beer and went to the bowling alley in the same building as I work in (I'm floor 6 - and as I type I'm sitting in my class room listening to the sounds of the bowling alley only about 10 feet over my head). So yes, we went bowling and quickly realised that Korean bowling alleys are not the sort of places to take alcohol into. They are full of proper Korean bowling teams taking it very seriously and drinking energy sports drinks from the machine in the corner that only sells things like Pocari Sweat. The beer stayed in the bag. The first game was each man against the next, but the second game we divided into two teams for an England Vs. America challenge. The Korean's didn't know what to make of us. We were either chucking them straight into the gutter or getting strikes and generally being very loud and high fiving each other! We got to the last round and neither team was doing particularly well, but then I pulled two strikes in a row out of nowhere and howled like a man-mental. Then America stepped up. And Brent also cracked out two strikes in a row, bringing it to a close at 187 - 173 to them. We paid up and headed towards a park, and sat out underneath a small wooden construction on benches and talked for ages whilst listening to music from my laptop. It really was so nice and felt properly like we were on a summer holiday. After going to one of the best bars in Pyeongnae for a pitcher of beer, we went to meet some girls and some Canadian guys at a noraebang. The Korean version of the infamous far-east karaoke room! I loved it. Sang my heart out to Superstition by Stevie Wonder and plenty others, had a few more beers then jumped into a taxi bound for Hopyeong. Frank and I took the lift to the 10th floor of a big building and found ourselves in a giant karaoke lounge/bar where you do not hire individual rooms to sing in, you have to pay a huge amount to hire an entire live band to back you. The decor was garish and from an eighties cruise ship, and a fat, suited Korean businessman stood in front of the band singing terribly whilst staring hard at the lyrics being projected onto a screen a good 20 metres across the other side of the room. We found ourselves suddenly surrounded by the staff who then attempted to force us to pay 80,000 won for something we didn't really want. We just wanted a beer. 'ee bek chu!' we cried. 'ah nee yo!' was the response. The Korean singing businessman was now sitting opposite us, staring at the unfolding commotion whilst stabbing at a king-sized platter of fresh fruit with a cocktail stick and shoving pieces of pineapple in his gob. Frank and I did what we felt was right and legged it to the lift. Inside was a big E-Mart shopping trolley so I pushed it out of the lift and in the direction of the staff with a bit of force and tapped the button for the lift doors to close, which took an uncomfortable amount of time to happen. I'd like to think that just as the lift doors were closing the bar staff were running towards us with sticks in their hands.

The next day Frank and I headed once more to the Baseball stadium in Seoul, but we soon found out that the game between the Doosan Bears and Hanwha Eagles had been cancelled due to the rain. Our group of 8 joined forces with an big group of Americans. They led us on the subway to a district called Apjujong which is supposed to be 'the Beverley Hills of Seoul!' The Americans took us to... Hooters! Never thought I'd end up there. The burgers, curly fries and pitchers of beer were enjoyed though.

Hannah, John, Emma and Mark headed on somewhere else. Frank, myself, Anda, Faye and Penny went with the Americans to Itaewon (the big red light district). If you can look past the American squaddies getting hammered and punching people in the face, it is possible to find some of the best nightlife in the city. We found a big pub called the Wolfhound which played good music and had cheap beer and cocktails. After a few beers, I chose to have a big glass of Sangria. An American girl came up to me and went slightly mental at the fact I was drinking a cocktail through a straw. Also, a different girl shot me down for saying 'Hooters is quite a sexist atmosphere isn't it. I hope they get paid well!'. She screamed 'Don't give me that bullshit!', then proceeded to reel off countless sexist jokes (with very similar punchlines of '...because they should be in the kitchen LMAO!!'). I think/hope I made some anti-Republican remarks and told her to go find a captive audience elsewhere. In fact, I believe rather a few of the people there had only recently been posting their votes back across the Pacific for ol' Grandaddie McCain and sideshow Palin. We went to another bar called The Loft where the girls drank for free. There was a band there dressed like punk rockers a la Korean-style. A while later and the call rang out for a noraebang. We were directed to one round the corner, above a transexual brothel. When we got outside, all the little ladyboys were out on the steps. We went upstairs and sang our hearts out for ages. I remember smashing a big yellow tambourine over my head. I woke up on Sunday to find said tambourine in my backpack. Oh the shame...

Here's some photos of the night. Some are mine, some are stolen from facebook profiles.

Baseball and Burritos

2009-04-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

After the not-so-urban hike, Frank and I wandered on towards the apartment of Marisa and Ashley. Frank's flatmate Carol also tagged along for the day. It's so easy to get to Seoul from Pyeongnae. We walked from the girls' flat, through a busy Korean market set up in the shadows of the towers, and down to the main road where we waited for no more than 5 minutes to get onto a bus bound for the capital. I was shattered from the night before so between occasional contributions to the group conversation I shut my eyes and sunk into my seat for an power nap. Frank and I had met up the previous night, outside Dunkin' D's (where else?!). We hadn't meant to drink much but upon meeting, Frank proclaimed 'Ben, I've got that bloody Friday feeling!'. So had I. We went to the same Galbi restaurant I had been to on my first night in the country. You just pay for the raw meat. Everything else comes as part of the price. If you finish the side dishes or lettuce leaves used to wrap up the pork then they bring more completely free. The waitress was very pretty and Frank fell slightly in love. She insisted on standing by our table cooking our meat for us on the centre-of-table barbeque, despite the fact I was doing a bloody good job of cooking it myself. In the words of Roger Moore's Bond, I was keeping the British end up. Except he was being lascivious. She was kind enough to remove tongs from my hands and do it for me. Afterwards, Frank and I explored Pyeongnae. We went to a dodgy 'hof' (Korean pub) which is on my walk home. It is just a selection of random 60's furniture around tables with the smell of a hamster's cage hanging in the air. There we ate tiny, dried, whole silver fish. They were, not surprisingly disgusting. Later we ended up in a brilliant hof with an Egyptian god carrying a pint as its logo. Once inside there was, dissapointingly, no Egyptian theme.

Where was I? Saturday. Frank, Ashley, Marisa, Carol and I jumped off the bus at Jamsil and walked a few kilometres to the baseball stadium (located right next to the 1988 Seoul Olympic Stadium). We literally just followed the crowd. About five minutes away from the destination we could hear the infectious chanting. The atmosphere was amazing from right outside the stadium. There were loads of old Korean women lined up in front of stalls of bottled water, cans of beer, bags of snacks and hard-boiled eggs - mostly on ice. They were all competing loudly for our attention, as if trying to tell us that their sealed, bottled mineral water was far superior to the next woman's. We met Marisa and Ashley's friends Cassy and Luke. They had already bought our tickets so we made our way up the ramps to the ticket-checking entrance. Once inside we could buy food and beers, which we passed on temporarily whilst we found a place to stand to watch the game. They sell well over capacity, which is why all the guide books - including my lonely planet - tell you that it is never sold out. This also equals over-crowding and the inability to find seats. Fine by us though. We bought some beers and decanted them into over-sized cardboard cups, then found some decent steps to watch from. From that point on, the atmosphere was contagious and swept me away. I can honestly say I've not had so much fun in quite a while. Does it say anything that Frank and I are organising a big group to go again this Saturday? The seven of us had kitted ourselves out with two red 'boom sticks' each - which said 'LG TWINS - PRIDE OF SEOUL!'. Unfortunately, we'd bought tickets which took us into the Kia Tigers section. We were reds in a sea of yellows. We were instant hate figures!

Later, we caught a taxi to the CO-EX mall. The biggest underground mall in Asia. We only skimmed the surface in our walk looking for the restaurant 'On The Border'. It was a fairly classy Mexican joint, where we had burritos and tacos. We were served by a Korean guy named 'Wah-Wah'. He would have been a sycophant if he wasn't so bloody lovely and in possession of such a fantastically delightful name to say!

Later, Carol left us and the remaining six caught the subway to Sincheon to meet our buddies Mike and Choon. We found a great bar where we commandeered the free jukebox. Counting Crows, Feist, Kings of Convenience, Jimmy Eat World, MGMT, The Black Crowes. After that we did some street walkin' baby and wandered towards a place called ROCK. It was an underground place owned by a Korean John Lennon - instead of a Korean Yoko Ono, he had a much more attractive partner on his arm - an extensive vinyl collection (the largest in all of Korea if rumours are to be believed, and why not? It certainly looked to be the case). We all sat down on sofas and helped ourselves to beer from the open fridge. The price got totted up at the end from counting empties. Johnnie Lennon played whatever we wanted to hear from his collection when we jotted it down on tiny scraps of paper. The best bit for me was hearing 'When the Levee Breaks' by Led Zep and 'No Rain' by Blind Melon, played off vinyl, through massive speakers at high volume. Lovely.

A not-so-urban hike

2009-04-20T08:50:00.000-07:00

Frank and I went for another hike on Saturday.

But it didn't remain in the realms of the urban for any great length of time. Before long we found ourselves a few kilometres from the main road, in an area that is best described as redneck country. Delapidated blocks of flats surrounded us and the air was filled with sounds of old bits of sheet metal creaking and groaning. Back in town we get stared at, but here it felt like there should be a curious mustachioed korean gent standing on the corner saying lecherously 'Oi! You sir have a wheel pwetty mouf!'. But for some reason Frank and I pushed on. We wanted to reach the countryside and mountainous regions that lay beyond this township. Frank and I rounded the corner to find nothing less than a tall fence with barbed wire along the top, coming directly between us and the path that we wanted to be on. In fact, to get to the path, we would have to climb up a 6 foot fence and across barbed wire then leap down a twenty foot drop. We actually pussied out and started walking back. Then a mutual decision was reached simultaneously that we'd go for it - if only for the story to tell. Frank ran up to the fence whilst I kept nervous watch. He made it, only briefly entangling groin with barbs. I leapt up after and made a clean go of it, and we both dropped to the platfrom below. Then it was a crazy scramble down a soil slope to the tarmac path a long way below.

The barbed wire fence and slope (from the bottom).

From then on it was as though we had escaped the city. In actual fact, we had. A path following a gentle sounding river to our right-hand side, was cloaked on our left by dense forest and beautiful flowers.

After the river and forest, we crossed the widening expanse of water over a concrete bridge and walked through a tunnel. Out the other side we came to a long and steep slope. It was unprotected by shade and lasted for a long time. That's the trouble with impromptu hikes - we didn't have any water with us. But we carried on regardless, making calculations that we were probably halfway to where we wanted to end up - so it made sense to continue rather than turn back the way we came. On the way we passed a lone Korean man, bent double, looking in the long grass for some long lost possession. Perhaps where he had once buried a family heirloom before the war.

At last we came to the brow of the hill and looked down upon the area where we were headed. This is what we saw.

There was a lot of heavy industry in the distance and we wondered whether to continue, but we felt that we'd already climbed a barbed wire fence so what was another bit of trespassing going to do? Before we came to the road where truck tyres had carved a deep set track, we found some sort of religious shrine. It was guarded by this fellow. His bark was pretty pathetic, and his fur was very thick and curly for such a scorchingly hot day with no shade.

We walked down the hill, waited for a big truck to drive on by before following the river under an enormous concrete railway bridge and to the right hand side of a steep mountain of granite rocks. After that, we were back at the river we had crossed earlier only a few kilometres back down towards the town. Frank and I hopped across big man-made stepping stones whilst being pointed and laughed at by no fewer than 10 Korean schoolgirls. They love us like local celebrities. On the way back I took the following photo of flowers, then we went to meet some people to spend the rest of the day, evening and night with in Seoul.

Teaching

2009-04-15T05:36:00.000-07:00

I didn't enjoy teaching until my nerves sorted themselves out. It might seem disproportionate that I was so nervous in the first place, but teaching class after class of screaming children when you've never attempted anything of the sort before is pretty daunting. But having said that, after the first week I slipped naturally into the role of 'master of darkness', striking equilibrium between letting them play games when they've done well and scaring them senseless when they are bad. It is quite therapeutic in a way. Yesterday I yelled 'This is EXACTLY the sort of rude behaviour that Mr Kim warned would get a letter sent straight home to your parents, so stop messing about now or I'll make sure that happens!'. All they hear is 'rude, letter, parents' and their laughter turns to sobbing noises, followed by silence. I could have taken the opportunity to get anything else bothering me off of my chest. 'And by the way! I am also incredibly pissed off about the excessive force and violence used by the metropolitan police force at the G20 protests in London - unbelievable!!'. But I didn't. I might though. They wouldn't understand but shouting would make me feel better.

I like teaching now.

Yesterday I had to be taken to hospital. The nearest was a children's hospital in Pyeongnae, so one of the Korean teachers took me and we waited on the seats whilst listening to what could have been cartoon theme tunes. I told Joy I hoped the doctor would give me a lollipop at the end. I think Joy then felt awkwardly like my mother. I was taken into the doctor's examination room and he spoke basic medical terminology in English. He asked me the symptoms and then listened to my breathing and heart and the sounds of my intestines. He then sat there for a good five minutes doing nothing but say 'hmmmm', and 'ahhh' and 'mmmmm'. He then looked me in the eyes and said 'My diagnosis is...' then paused to build the tension. '...acute gastroenteritis'. I expect that sounds a lot worse than it is but I was suffering a lot and had a feverish temperature. He told me I would have to 'eat drug for three days', rest and avoid cold food and dairy. Joy and I walked through into the pharmacy and handed over the prescription slip. A male pharmacist wandered over and looked over the shoulder of the girl. He then looked at me, pointed like the Fonz and said 'eyyy... how you speak your last name?'. I said, quite clearly 'Mc-Kech-nee'. He immediately shouted 'Macartney! Like the Beatles! OhmyGod!!'.

I just didn't have the heart to correct him. Now I'm stuck on 4 different pills, 3 times a day for 3 days. Oh yes, and some strange, pink, drinkable goo.

Saturday night in Hongdae, Seoul

2009-04-12T00:51:00.000-07:00

Saturday Night - Frank, Johnnie and I jumped on the bus heading towards Seoul. We got off at Jamsil subway station and rode the tube for one stop to Sincheon. Johnnie's good friend Brent met us and took us to a hof (korean pub). The streets were teeming and covered with street-food stalls, and nightclubs played music out onto the street. Our hof was down some stairs, and through a doorway the room opened up into a big hall with booths. It felt quite like places I'd been to in Poland and Czech Republic, but obviously very different! We had a few beers and I was told off by a Korean guy named Jason for saying that I found the members of K-Pop group Girls' Generation very attractive. Apparently they are far too young. They are in actual fact western age 20, 21 etc. I'm 23. Fair game I say, so I don't take it back! On the table was a massive platter of fresh fruit, and prawns, and we ordered some french fries and fried chicken to add to the kimbap (bought from a Jamsil subway station diner) in our stomachs. We were waiting for Johnnie and Brent's good mate Choon to finish work at this place, so when he told us that he was going to finish later than expected we ordered a few pitchers of Soju kiwi cockatil that we did as shots. Many, many shots. Far more potent than they tasted. Frank was tipsy and kept saying 'Chin chin sonny Jim!' in a cockney accent, which was very funny.

Later we took a couple of taxis and reconvened in Hongdae. Hongdae's an area of Seoul based around Hongik University, and as such is a bit of a clubbing Mecca. The packed streets and music reminded me of being somewhere like Ayia Napa. Yes I have been there before! I don't mean 'Hongdae is just like a UK-garage-playing resort in the Eastern Mediterranean'. But they both have hundreds of bars and clubs on every street - and both share the same intense, contagious energy. We found a Ho-Bar and ordered some drinks. (Ho-Bar = a chain of cool bars, not what you're thinking). We then went to a club called 'Boom'. It was 2 in the morning by this time. We paid 10,000 won to get in - then it was all you could drink for 3 hours until 5 o'clock. The only catches were you had to keep the same tiny plastic cup and drink all your drinks from it, and it was just spirit and mixers. Beer was extra. But I'd like to think we got our money's worth. We met a group of 4 girls, 3 of whom were from England and 1 from America. Then we all did some crazy moves on the dancefloor, which seemed a bit like line dancing but at the time was very normal. Choon lost control a bit later on and couldn't stand straight, plus was sick - we put him in a taxi. Hope you're okay mate! This is where memory becomes really hazy. We went to another club, down some more stairs. I remember running up and down those stairs repeatedly but why I don't know, and there were lockers like at a swimming pool, and Johnnie was introducing me to the Korean girl he had pulled the week before but I remember them only at a diagonal angle. Then I was leaning over the DJ booth and shouting something at him. I don't know what, but it wouldn't have been aggressive as that just doesn't happen to me. I have no idea when we left or how long we were there for, but we got back out onto the street, probably at 6 o'clock. Frank, Korean guy Jason and I fell into a taxi and departed on what was the longest taxi journey of my life. All the way out of Seoul, through Guri and all the way through most of Namyangju. It lasted forever and Frank was spinning some tunes on his iPod (one of the ear phones was in my ear), and that was enjoyed. Watching the sun come up, off one's head in the most foreign country I've ever been to, listening to tunes that will now be associated with the nostalgia of the memory of that taxi ride. Loved it (what did we listen to again mate?). I stumbled through Pyeongnae alone because we got out at Frank's house, so it was a good few kilometres in daylight with people staring at me even more than normal because I must have looked like a ghost with almost translucent skin. It's usually called the walk of shame. But that day I remember thinking that it was the walk of dignity. What a twat.

In the Pics: Frank, Johnnie, Mike, Jason, Choon, Me. Brent must have been hiding from the camera all night!

A hike around Hopyeong

2009-04-08T07:00:00.000-07:00

Frank and I hiked from Pyeongnae all around the neighbouring town. We could see what looked like an enormous Boeing 747 in the far distance and decided to go check it out. It was indeed a 747. Converted to a restaurant! The weather's getting tropical and I've gone slightly red. Had lunch then explored a huge Korean department store/supermarket. Clubbing in Hongdae (Seoul) tonight!

My Classroom - 'Harvard'

2009-04-07T02:40:00.000-07:00

Do you like my whale? I think it's quite good (for me).

Subways, Squid & Smog-ridden Seoul

2009-04-06T09:55:00.000-07:00

The morning after the Soju-induced insanity, I awoke to a feeling like a pulsating sea creature had made its way between my skull and my brain. It was sick, and I knew immediately that what people had told me about Soju hangovers was true. It is terrible. In the west you are told that clear spirits give you less of a hangover than dark drinks. Here it is the opposite! I caught a bus to Guri in order to meet some fellow English teachers, Hannah and John, although it could have been a bus to anywhere. I simply waited, looked at the ground and then got on the first vehicle that came on by. Luckily it seemed to pull off in the right direction. In fact, it was exactly the right bus. I alighted at GS Square (an enormous, Petrol company-owned department store in Guri - a big satellite city to the East of Seoul). John met me off of the bus and took me to meet Hannah. We had a naughty dunkin' doughnuts breakfast full of three types of melted western cheese and mechanically recovered processed meat, before catching the Guri subway into the centre of Seoul. It was so much quicker than I thought! We emerged from the subway to the exact same smell that my parents had told me to prepare for. Asian drains - that in a way are strangely alluring. They hit you as soon as you get to street level. From the tube station we entered an area of Seoul called Myeong-dong. It was heaving and everything that I had hoped for from an Asian capital. Street food, incomprehensible signs and more pushing and shoving that you could possibly ever wish to see.

We exited Myeong-dong to see a huge Catholic Cathedral. There was a wedding on. That explains the rather lovely VW Beetle with 'Love Is Forever' strewn across the back. And the woman and child on the steps photo. We headed towards Namsan Tower, which is a big hill and national park area rising up right in the middle of Seoul. It's quite beautiful and a haven of peace to escape to from such a busy street-level. On top of the 262 metre peak is Namsan Tower which we caught the elevator to the top of. So you're an extra 230+ metres above the hill, and therefore nearly 500 metres above Seoul. The views are amazing even if it is incredibly polluted and smog filled. See the photos further down the blog page!

Later on, we met another couple named Emma and Mark, and went for dinner in an area of Seoul famous for its Red Light District and heavy presence of testosterone fueled American squaddies. 'Itaewon'. But we were all itching for a proper curry and this is the best place to get one. We went to a restaurant called 'Ashoka' on the 3rd floor (or possibly higher) of the pretty posh Hamilton Hotel. The restaurant was luxury inside. A very traditional Indian, in the sense that it felt like colonial nineteen-forties Bombay. My mum told me that she and my dad used to go to Ashoka's in the eighties in Hong Kong. We all went for the 33,000 Won buffet menu. (roughly 16 - 17 pounds). It was absolutely one of the best indians I've ever had, with the added bonus that we were able to go back up and eat as much as we wanted.

Afterwards - Emma, Mark, Hannah, John and I caught a taxi back to Guri (where they live). It cost us less than 20,000 won. Probably the equivalent of catching a taxi from central London to Luton for less than a tenner. We bought beers and Soju, then went back to relax at John and Hannah's apartment. Music was listened to and discussions had. Later I went to buy more beer from the local convenience store. I came back with an entire giant dried squid in a loose plastic packet. I ripped a bit of tentacle off in my mouth. The suckers broke off like dried warts and became stuck in my teeth and general mouth area. I gagged so hard that I very nearly puked on Hannah and John's floor. John, on the other hand, loved the squid and thought it to be like fish jerky. Despite having to rip with all his jaw-strength to detach a bit of face from the main body of the smelly beast. I swear that I only have to remember the smell and taste to be transported to hell. I eventually caught a taxi back to Pyeongnae-dong!

Thanks to John, Hannah, Emma and Mark for a great day/night.

Taekwondo is a good spectator sport

2009-04-06T08:12:00.000-07:00

It's time to break the silence. Writing on a regular basis is a hard act to keep up!

I met some fellow Pyeong-nae dwelling teachers at ten o'clock on Friday night - outside Dunkin' Doughnuts (the place to see and be seen around these parts) on the main street in town. Frank's a truly sound guy from Wales who happens to be teaching at an academy in the building next to mine. The other guy Steve (real name = Tommy. His director made him change his name because he didn't like his real one. Weird, right?) was from New York, and is one of those guys that is a necessary addition to every group of mates. Basically I was very pleased to make friends with such good lads! We jumped straight into a taxi to Hopyeong-dong, the neighbouring town but still part of Namyangju City, and wandered around there looking for the Korean letters that spelt out 'bar'. And you've got to be careful as a fair proportion of signs that say bars also double up as 'hostess bars' (where you pay through your nose to have not-very-attractive-but-sycophantic girls be your friends). We found one at last, and sat down in the still-very-brothel-like surroundings (leather sofas, lights so dim that you can barely see your friends' faces, bargirls paying extra attention to the only-male clientele). We wanted a beer though so we had crashed into one of the booths, with curtains that could pull across, and sank into the wipe-clean sofas. Yeah, okay, we realise now what the place was. We had a few beers, and on the second round the waitress told Tommy (who is a Korean-American - from New York but Korean parents, and therefore can speak the langauge) that Frank and I were very handsome men. Then she just stood there waiting for us to respond. We just said 'Oh, that's nice! Thanks!'. She left when she realised we weren't interested.

After the semi-brothel, we wandered around aimlessly (but with purpose, like all good travellers) until we found a bar called something similar to 'Suyuiko'. We sat on down on a table and ordered a 2-litre pitcher of beer for less than 4 pounds! The friendly (but professional) bar girls attended to us with a continuous stream of freshly cooked bar-snacks, such as sweet potato fries and things which looked like Quavers but tasted of Pork Scatchings. We had some excellent chat, and I felt at home properly for the first time.

But then everything kicked off. Unexpectedly, as this is conservative South Korea we're talking about. A few metres away from where we sat, by the entrance, a Korean lady jumped out of her seat. She snatched up a heavy glass and hurled it at the face of the man opposite her, nearly point-blank. It made contact with the space between his eyebrows and split open his skin, blood and glass everywhere. It was pouring from his face like a fine nineteen-eighties vintage red, albeit one that you probably wouldn't want to gargle in your mouth. That's not even the good part. Tommy, the Korean-American was translating for us all the time, and she was screaming 'You cheating son of a bitch!' and other such lovelies. Korean people began to take sides. And Korean people know Taekwondo, a lot to a very high standard. I realised this when roughly around ten men, five-a-side, began drop kicking each other in the face. Right in the chops. It was bloody and the best fight I've ever seen. None of us could look away, and were all too scared to think about taking a photo. After a while the brutality moved outside and the police turned up, all taking photos on mobile phones of the crime-scene (CCTV being a rarity here).

Tommy left us, and myself and Frank went back in a taxi to Pyeongnae-dong. Oh yes, a ten minute taxi ride costs less than a pound. It is SO good! We went to another bar, drank more beer, met some cool Korean Guys then ordered a bottle of Soju (the local spirit, which costs little more than 2 pounds for a decent big bottle. Thats less than an alcopop in England for ten times the amount of booze). Here's a picture of the results.

First taste of Seoul

2009-04-04T22:48:00.000-07:00

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How the sight of my nipples brightened a Korean nurse's day

2009-04-02T21:34:00.001-07:00

I knew that I had my medical examination this morning, but my director neglected to say that I wasn't allowed to eat breakfast beforehand. My doorbell rang at exactly half past ten this morning (Koreans are so very punctual) and I opened it with one hand as the other hand was raising a slice of bread & jam to my mouth. What followed was an over-the-top, slow motion cinematic style 'Ahn neeee yooooo!!' (Noooooo!) from Mr Kim as he reached up and twatted the food away from my mouth and on to the floor. Needless to say that I was stunned, and he hastily explained that I must not eat before going to hospital. Brilliant, I'll just clean up the mess from the floor then shall I? Ha! We left in his Hyundai people-carrier (which he calls an 'RV' - it's not), and headed towards Seoul. I am very fond of Mr Kim and he has looked after me well, and is probably the reason why I have suffered very little from culture-shock - but GOD is his driving shockingly shite. He is on his mobile, reading texts and talking, and every single traffic light he stops at, he is always doing something else when the light turns green again. (Talking, texting, lighting a cigarette, smoking it, looking down, looking to the side, looking up - if there's a light, he'll be doing anything but concentrate). Every time I wait for at least ten seconds (because this is funnier) before saying 'Mr Kim! Green!', and that is only if he hasn't invoked ten drivers behind him to sound their horns in one horrendous, discordant orchestra of hate! He also travels along in the left hand lane of a 3 lane highway, then will put his indicators on to move lane - then just carry on in the same lane whilst leaving them on. I can see no rational explanation for this behaviour! We headed in the car out of Pyeongnae and travelled West towards Guri and Seoul. On the way we drove through two other 'dongs' (towns that make up Namyangju City, of which my Pyeongnae-dong is one). The others are bigger, noisier, more polluted. I think I'm lucky, mine is lovely and has parks and mountains in every direction. We then entered Guri - a big town sitting nearly in Greater Seoul, and on the subway line. I'm heading there tomorrow to meet some fellow teachers from England, so it was good to scope the place out and I spotted the place where I'll be meeting them. It is also busy and noisy, but has so much going on with hundreds of shops, restaurants and bars - so I'm jealous of this. Out of Guri and over a hill, we entered Greater Seoul and the hospital was just off the main road on the right hand side.

Inside, it was really modern in comparison to hospitals in the UK. Mr Kim checked me in at reception and we were told to go to the right and up the ramp. I went through into the medical examination centre where they took my jacket and bag, then a rather nice nurse told me in Korean and mime to lie down on the bed and pull my t-shirt up. This was for the EKG. Then they checked height, weight, blood pressure, eye-sight, and took a blood sample. Oh yes, I also did a wee in a cup. Not for the medical, I just did it for fun. I put my jacket back on and was then handed over to the X-Ray team and another pretty girl took me into a room on my own and said 'Topless'. Naturally I obliged and removed my jacket and t-shirt, leaving me standing there with my nips out. She turned around and screamed 'No! No! Just Jacket! Just Jacket!', then she burst into a fit of hysterical giggles and so did I. She then ran out of the room to tell some other medical staff what had just happened and they burst into laughter too. Then she came back in and took the x-ray. Oh what fun! Back in Pyeongnae I had very little time for breakfast before school, so I was naughty and went to Dunkin' Doughnuts for a Bacon, Egg & Cheese muffin, and raspberry doughnut and a cappucino.

Look at all the pretty doughnuts. I had no choice you see. Oh, come on it's hardly MacDonalds!

Seriously though, I don't see what she found so funny about my bare chest!

How rude.

2009-04-02T07:28:00.000-07:00

Julie, one of Korean teachers, just came straight out with this little gem. 'Ben...do you wear the make-up?'. I said 'What! Does it look like I wear the make-up?!'. 'Yes, a little'.

I thought it was shocking and outrageous - I haven't worn any in weeks!!!

Dinner out with the Talking Club gang!

2009-04-02T07:13:00.000-07:00

Rebecca & Joy - Two of the four Korean teachers at the school.

Myself and Mr Kim.

You eat and eat and eat, then sit around talking. It feels as though everyone's going to leave at any second. But then they bring you each a big bowl of iced noodles with cucumber, pepper paste and toasted sesame seeds (like this one). My stomach hurts.

The restaurant we ate at. Belongs to the mother of the two oldest students at the school.

Thursday & a taste of freedom

2009-04-02T00:15:00.000-07:00

Warm sunny day today. Thought I'd test the boundaries of how free I am whilst sat at my school in this settling in period. Thankfully I am. Mr Kim was just concerned that I would fail miserably at fending for myself in shops and restaurants, so that's why he has been accompanying me. It's a valid point! But I've built up enough language skills now. Although it still is difficult sometimes. I was in a supermarket half an hour ago procuring a chocolate stash (including Market O Real Brownies and Ghana bars, and also some coffee mix for home), and the checkout girl asked me a question. I didn't understand a single Korean word so just stared blankly whilst she repeated it a few times and she was getting quite visibly pissed off with me. I just said 'Ahn nee yo. Chweh sohng hahm nee dah. Yeohn-go hasseyo? Chweh sohng hahm nee dah'. No. Sorry. Do you speak English? Sorry. The transaction could and would not continue until she got an answer to her question! It took a painful minute before someone in the queue shouted 'You want plastic bag?!'. I said 'Oh. Ahn nee yo!'. But, you know, it was fine in the end and it was quite amusing really. I went for lunch at a Korean restaurant and did a pretty good job of ordering, using chopsticks and paying for myself!

I went back to school and sat down, then ate a brownie in front of some children. They drew nearer and begged me for some with their eyes. I pushed the entire thing into my mouth whilst going 'Mmmmmm!'. And I've just been playing rock paper scissors with them, which they love. But there's an added bonus in Korea. If they lose you get to flick them quite hard on the forehead! Ha!

Yes, let's feel its richness of cacao mixed with the mild taste. Couldn't have said it better myself!

Pictures from a Thursday lunchtime walk around town

2009-04-01T23:33:00.000-07:00

My walk to work

2009-04-01T21:20:00.001-07:00

I can walk through this funky park on my way to the school - over old railway sleepers that make a path on the top of a hill. But not at night on my way back, when I'd almost certainly plunge to my death. (It is, in parts, far steeper and I keep tripping over even in the daytime).

Looking up from the footpath.

My brand new, just-been-built apartment... 5 minutes walk from the main street!

2009-04-01T08:24:00.000-07:00

Kitchen & work area. There's Bon Iver comin outta those there speakers.

My bed. Jazzy duvet. It's a pretty rock-solid matress but the pillow makes up for it!

My new LG tv (did you know that LG stands for Lucky Goldstar and is Korean? Did ya? Did ya?!). Getting cable tomorrow. Internet was connected today. Nice bathroom, you just shower straight onto the floor! Liberating...

Football & Curry - Korean Style...

2009-04-01T07:23:00.000-07:00

North Korea and South Korea were playing a live game on a big screen in the restaurant we went to tonight. The match was to qualify for the South Africa 2010 World Cup. South Korea won, 1 - 0. In your face Kim Jong-Il! Go ahead and launch your Taepodong-2 missile, you're still shit at football!

Nice Korean Chef Cooking at Our Table

I had a spicy chicken & rice-cake dish cooked at the table by a friendly lady who was more than happy to be in my photograph! It was so good and reminded me of Indian food, but still really different. Plus there was loads to eat, with side dishes of radish, cabbage in dressing, kimchi, seaweed soup (apparently good for women who've just given birth because it helps your liver make new blood!), big lettuce leaves, sesame-plant leaves that looked like giant mint leaves, green chillies, raw garlic and raw onion. Told you there was loads! Oh and a beer was had, which is far more difficult than it should be to order (Mr Kim is a catholic and hardly drinks! Roll on Friday when I've been invited on a proper night out with an English guy and some Americans...). Football, beer, curry - for 45 minutes the culture shock subsided. It was a Korean lads-on-tour evening out.

Me and my buddy Mr Kim - again!

Later, I was driven to a supermarket and the car park was deep underground. When we got to it down a steep ramp, there weren't any lights so when we got out to walk to the door that would take us to the supermarket I could see nothing. I've never felt more like I was in a horror movie. There was a sound exactly like multiple dogs running on concrete that sped up and got louder. I shat myself. And the door to the supermarket was locked so that helped with the general feeling of sheer terror. Mr Kim and I then had to find our way back through 50 metres of pure darkness to his car, guided only by the glow from his cigarette lighter. Resident Evil anyone? I found a late night supermarket and am now the proud owner of some eggs. I told Mr Kim I wanted free-range. He didn't understand. He told me 'These ones are best because hens kept in the cold'. Doesn't sound too welfare-friendly to me but I bought them anyway hoping that something altogether more pleasant was lost in translation...

Blurry Pyeongnae-dong

Lore Fish

2009-04-01T01:40:00.001-07:00

Mr Kim has been asking me since I got here if I like Lore fish. I found out today what he meant! We went into a restaurant for lunch. Lined up outside along the street were large fish tanks full of all sorts of live fish swiming about casually (some were monstrous creatures from the deep, whilst others were delicate little tropical fish that wouldn't look out of place in an aquarium).

This fish is pissed off because I ate his mum.

They were just chilling out - unaware of the fate that awaited them just around the corner. The Kim and I took our shoes off and sat down on mats on the floor. I'm really struggling with this cross-legged floor sitting. I can't cross my legs sufficiently enough to tuck them under the low table because I've got such skinny jeans, and after 5 minutes I lose sensation in at least one leg so walking out of the restaurant it's touch and go whether I fall flat on my face. But I suppose that one has to suffer for fashion... At another table, four Korean men sat enjoying an enormous amount of food, all digging in to various dishes spread out across the table and waving their hands wildly about in the air.

At another table there were two old Korean men sitting cross-legged who looked just as comfortable as primary school children doing the same would be - it put me to shame! Mr Kim ordered for the both of us, and I knew when the chef walked outside what we were in for. He grabbed a big live fish out from one of the tanks and walked back in to the open kitchen with it. He then bashed it on the head, filleted it, chopped it up and put slithers of it on top of rectangles of rice. Like Sushi - but here they call it Chobap. I know better already than to say 'Oh Mr Kim, this is just like what they have in Japan!'. I would probably lose my job, such is the bad feeling between Koreans and the Japanese. All the side dishes came first - Kimchi, spiced potatoes, raw shellfish (whatever the shellfish was I ate it, and it was raw, and it had an eye, and I ate the eye, and did I mention it was raw? It wasn't half-bad actually. Felt quite proud of myself!), then a big vat of fish soup with a plate of raw Chobap to the side. Extra rice came too, along with little bowls of soy and wasabi (called something completely different here).

Soup = Good. Raw fish Chobap = Good. I actually like the texture. Mr Kim decided it was time for me to learn how to ask to pay whilst speaking Korean, so I wandered up to the lady (her face was massive) and said 'Uhl mah eem nee kah?'. How much? 12,500 Won for a huge lunch for two people. About 3 pounds each! Lore fish? Raw fish. It was staring me in the face really.

The Calm Before the Storm...

2009-04-01T00:10:00.000-07:00

From my conversation with the Korean businessman, I got the impression that mine is a good school. He asked its name, and when I told him he got quite excited and said ‘Oh! E.Bo-Young Talking Club! This very famous brand – they all across Korea!’. It sounds like a lot of Korean parents would send their children here if they could afford it. Mr Kim took me to the school on Monday to introduce me to the teachers – Joy, Jane, Julie and Rebecca. We all chatted for a while then they got down to planning their lessons for the day (the reason why we turn up to work at 1pm, but don’t start teaching until 2.30pm). It’s the calm before the storm. At 2.25pm, the floor began to tremble, and this built up into a crescendo before a herd of wild midgets with jet black hair ran screaming and making motorbike noises through the main door.

E.Bo-Young! Ain't she a Beaut?

The main game is to run up to me in threes, either dragging or pushing each other, then when I say ‘Hello children!’ they run away screaming down the corridor. I can see why they find it so much fun! They are all so well-kept and some have wicked manga-style haircuts. If I was the Grand High Witch then I’d be choking on the smell of dogs’ droppings constantly, and probably scaring the shit out of them with my purple eyes and nazi accent (if you know you’re Roald Dahl!). I spent the next 5 hours being taken around classrooms - being stared at, screamed at, laughed at and interrogated by tiny children. To add to my confusion, Mr Kim let me know that I must convert my age to my Korean age and speak of it like this from now on. Because they count the time spent in your mum, this is counted as a year of life and added to your age. And yet another reason means you add another year. I can’t explain it brilliantly, but I am now 25 – not 23. Mr Kim takes me into the classroom whilst a lesson is in full swing (cue gasps and screams and lots of laughter and pointing at my face), and tells each child to introduce themselves to me in English. Sometimes it takes a painfully long time because some of them are so shy in front of me and they just sit staring at the desk turning bright red. When they get round to it, I say ‘Hello Angel/Little Harry/Rocky (some real names of kids here!) My name is Ben. I am 25 years old. I am from England. My favourite food is pizza! It is nice to meet you’. They laugh some more. Then Mr Kim tells them to ask me anything they want. The most popular questions are:

1. Why do you have blue eyes? This is a source of constant fascination for them, as all Korean people have dark brown eyes.
2. What is your height/weight? When I say 70 kilograms and 175 centimetres, they look amazed and say ‘oooooohhh!’.
3. Do you have a girlfriend? I say no and they look shocked then ask...
4. Then are you married? Again I say no, and they say ‘But you are 25!’
5. Do you like sport? I lie and say I like ‘soccer’ and my favourite team is Manchester United (they have a Korean player, Park Ji-Sung, so they all adore Man U here!). Also it’s hilarious to then hear a room full of Korean kids saying ‘ahhh, Rooney!’.

They are inquisitive little ankle biters. As I’m typing there are at least 3 creeping up on me in my peripheral vision. If I make any sudden movements then they’ll run off, but if I stay still and type then they’ll come right up and lean in to me to see what I’m looking at on my computer.

In the next post... all about food!

The Kim and I - Traditional shoes off, legs crossed Korean restaurant in Pyeong-nae

2009-03-31T20:47:00.000-07:00

Tuesday night. This was a really great meal out and my first taste of the Korean national drink Soju. Just like cheap vodka except half as strong (20%) so bypasses the gag reflex and is easy to drink. And it's only 3000 Won (one pound fifty pence) for a biggish bottle, so cheap way to get tipsy. It's good fun for it to be socially acceptable to do numerous shots with your meal! There were lots of courses here. A massive wadge of home-made bean paste, bean paste soup, some sort of fish, then a huge semi-cannonball of rice and butternut squash that you scrape out into a bowl to eat. This leaves rice stuck to the side, burnt on by the intense heat of the bowl-material (some sort of stone). We poured boiling water from a kettle in and covered them back up with lids. Twenty minutes later and this had made a nutty rice porridge as all the rice became unstuck! Halfway through dinner, Mr Kim became serious and said 'You must become confident, good teacher. It is important for you to learn how'. Yes, sensei master! He sure knows how to make you doubt yourself. It's said in a way that means you can't quite work out if it's said to help or because he is genuinely worried that you are shit and will fail. Oh well! Can only try my best I suppose, and it's not like he has any reason to doubt me yet.

Mr Kang, Mr Kim and the first glimpse of South Korea...

2009-03-31T20:43:00.000-07:00

After immigration, baggage reclaim and a bit of a free-for-all through a tiny gate, I stepped out of arrivals to a sea of faces and signs all held up for newcomers to read. I spotted ‘McKechnie’ and smiled, and the man holding the sign jumped up and down then ran towards me. Mr Kang, the pick-up agent arranged by the Korean school, greeted me with a cheeky bum-slap, wink and grin power-combo - and I thought nothing of it immediately other than ‘This must be acceptable over here!’. Although having said that I’m not planning on taking the practice up (in case Mr Kang was just a bit weird). Instead of driving me to the school in Pyeong-nae (which was my understanding of the arrangement), he made me sit down on a bench and then disappeared into the crowd. About ten minutes later he returned with a bus ticket, then took me to the bus stop and sent me and my suitcase on my way. Thanks a lot Mr Kang! Fortunately I made friends with an English speaking Korean businessman who assured me that he was getting off at the same stop as me in Pyeong-nae. There was little I could do except place my trust in him. By this point I was really suffering from sleep deprivation. I would normally be in need of sedation, but could do little else but stare out of the window at mountains and think ‘That’s lovely. Real nice. Yep. That’s what they call scenery right there’. Then, at last, I fell asleep. I woke up an hour and a half later to my new Korean friend telling me we were nearly at our stop. I felt quite refreshed. Now I was excited! I was met off of the coach by Mr Kim – the director of E. Bo-Young’s Talking Club in Pyeong-nae (the school I’m here to teach at). The businessman handed me his business card and said ‘Ben, if you need new Korean family and friend, call this number. We live nearby’. So kind! I was quite moved. Mr Kim greeted me warmly and shook my hand for a very, very long time before loading my suitcase into his car and driving me five minutes through streets filled with bright neon lights and more colours than your average rainbow, to arrive at my apartment. It’s only bloody brand new. Just been built. The computer keypad used to enter my studio is property of Hollywood and makes cool R2-D2 noises when unlocked! We dumped my things, then headed out to get dinner - all bought and paid for by the very generous Mr Kim! We went to an incredible ‘galbi’ restaurant where we cooked our own pork on a barbecue in the middle of the table, before using chopsticks to load up a lettuce leaf with meat, onions, chives and sauce before folding and shoving the whole thing into our mouths. It was amazing! I don’t know what they do to the meat before it gets to the table but I have never had such porky pork as this. After this and a beer, I told Mr Kim I needed to sleep so he drove me back to my new house and wished me goodnight.

In the next post... why I’m now 25, my first day at school and answering the questions all the children’s’ lips - Why the hell are my eyes blue? What exactly am I doing here? And why on earth at my old age am I not married?!

Getting there...

2009-03-30T22:29:00.000-07:00

I’ve just emptied an entire toothpaste-like tube of hot red pepper paste into my bowl of Bibimbap. I thought that I could handle the heat. Like in my 2^ndyear at university when I ordered the vindaloo - my whole face was anaesthetised to the point of losing the power of speech for two hours. Bibimbap is a Korean dish – a bowl of meat and vegetables, which you then tip a dish of rice over the top and add sesame oil and hot pepper paste to your liking. Then you mix it all up and eat. I was sweating buckets and the Korean man next to me was staring at side of my head. Which was quite unnerving. It came with side dishes of Kimchi (fermented & spiced vegetables), fish soup, cold soba noodles (with wasabi and soy) and a fresh fruit salad. As introductions to Korean food go though, it was good despite the overdose of hell sauce. I enjoyed the Korean air hostess’ surprise when I ordered it instead of the western option – steak & potatoes. I watched half of EagleEye on the little screen in the back of the seat but got bored and switched to the live flight updates whilst listening to the classic rock radio station and willing sleep to come. I must have listened to Electric Light Orchestra’s Evil Woman seven times, but still sleep eluded me. I entered into a limbo-state of consciousness and just stared at the screen whilst thinking very little at all. Except that Russia is bloody big innit!

Two hours before we arrived at Incheon international airport, my mood was brightened by the pretty cabin crew serving breakfast. I had smoked trout, beef stir-fry, steamed rice and fruit salad – and loved it all! The Welsh man to my right literally could not bring himself to eat the foreign rubbish in front of him. He sat staring at it for ten minutes before he started picking at the rice (but only the bits that hadn’t touched the sauce), as though a tramp had vomited in his lap and now he was being forced at gun point to pick out the juicy morsels and lick off their juice. Or maybe as if Ant & Dec were cajoling him into munching down the rancid private parts of a long-deceased wombat – one camp-meal per teste, 2 for the perineum and 5 for the sphincter. Come on lad, ye can do it! I wanted to assume the role of disgruntled Foie Gras famer and shove a funnel down his neck!

The screen showed that the plane was above Beijing, and the plane then turned East towards Seoul. From then we began to lose altitude steadily until the landing at 16.25pm local time, on Sunday 29th March 2009.

In the next post - odd Korean greetings, a scary bus journey and seeing my new town for the first time...