Pinched by a Dream

To begin to catalogue all of the happenings, revelations and insights of the past few months is now my new struggle. At times I wake up in the morning unable to believe how fortunate I am to have experienced what I did and I shrug it off as something that just might have happened. As soon as I open any form of social media, be it my cellphone, Facebook or E-mail, I am reminded that I did indeed go across the world. I did, in fact, meet some of the most memorable people of my young life. Even without an internet connection, the remnants of my star-crossed love for this foreign land are to be found in photos I've taken, things I've written down, etc.

It's not easy to go back in time. It takes courage to write about things that affect me as they did. Having the knowledge that the world's day is starting elsewhere while you lie down to sleep has a way of making you feel small upon first returning. I've come to recognize it as the way of travel, something that removes your ability to speak, to shatter the reality you've grown up with. From this small seed-like state, your new mind is able to grow.

If Asia has planted a seed in my mind then I have no doubt that it will, like the society I encountered, spring into an over-growth and my new voice will return stronger than it ever was before. Like Gandalf the Grey plunging into the depths to return I will soon find a new magic in my old way of life.

Returning home is, to say the least, not how you expect it when you're having the time of your life learning something new every minute of every hour. It's maddening - and for good reason. I became bitter that these times abroad had passed me by, that I hadn't had known the wash of colours from neon signs and the noise of the Korean street years earlier when I was staring at pitch black every night outside of my window. It was in this black empty space that I would fill in vivid images of thriving life from my imagination. If I had known these memories I now have to be absolute realities somewhere in the world then there isn't a doubt in my mind I would have done everything to make it a reality for myself even sooner.

I was being offered the most lucrative internships and opportunities at a time when I had grown accustomed to helping my father paint houses or being ripped off for money doing odd-jobs for unpredictable people. I was like any other disillusioned college student, placing calls to work in some supermarket or fast-food chain minimum wage gig and receiving no answer. When you know you're better than that, as most people employed in these situations know, the inevitable outcome is to lose faith in yourself.

Life before Korea clearly wasn't satisfying my hope in a brighter future. Yet I expected things to somehow be different when I returned. I took the risk to escape into another life and consequently caught a glimpse of an infinitely exciting parallel reality. It wasn't even so long ago that I was taking off on a fifteen hour plane ride with no solid expectation, no close friends, an inability to communicate with people whose home I would be entering into, nothing. There was nothing attached to me besides the baggage that came with me on the plane and the baggage in my mind I'd be leaving at the gate to Incheon International.

There were so many firsts for me, so many avenues for living one's life, a door was opened up to me.
Then four months later the door shut.

That was something I wasn't expecting. Every simple thing weighs down on you when you return and have your formerly new way of life snatched away from you. No more chopsticks when you go to eat (despite how good you were getting), no more "Kam-sa-ham-nida." Cheap and crazy taxi-cab drivers driving you home after a 5 A.M. bar session? I can't even buy alcohol now. Don't even get me started on internet cafes. All of those friends for whom even mention of their names can be painful and yet somehow make you laugh, the little things you miss the most.


Oh, and those things I used to hate about life in Korea? Well, that's not as easy to remember now.

Furthermore, despite what we say about technology easing the distance between people across the world, I am now inclined to believe that the opposite is true. Indeed, at the end of the day it can only serve to remind people of how far away they are, how hopeless contact can seem over the invisible miles of the internet. When this faces you, it helps to remember that the decision to come back in contact with whoever it may be is up to you. Create common ground, close the gap.

What I returned to when I came home was different from the place I had flown home from, but was home different itself? The simple answer is: No. "Can I make it different?" This is the question I needed to ask in those beginning sombre days. To ask this question is to remember why I set out in the first place. Knowing that things actually are different for your having gone requires faith. Little signs, such as the ones found on my social media, my pictures, or even a package of snacks that arrived from my mother's Korean colleague even as I was writing this are what become necessary for keeping the dream alive.

Part of the dream besides helping myself is to help others travel the world, no matter where they're from. If I can do it through writing, then that is one way. If you can't read what I'm writing then I'm here to help you learn English. If my writing doesn't help then maybe the images I've captured will. If none of these things make you want to see the rest of the world then you must be living in a good place and hopefully I'll see you soon. Climbing back up to the high place I was let down from I want to try and keep writing, as hard as it can be, about those cherished times I had for everyone else's sake.

As anyone who has been to Asia and really experienced the unknown, head-swirling feeling of discovery knows, a taste is never enough. I've been shown where to go, now it's time to find the way back. It will take everything I've got and it's not about to be easy, but my life depends on it.

Mount Seoraksan Adventure - Part One.

THE NIGHT before the bus took off at 6 A.M. never ended. I waited at the appointed area at an ungodly time with my boots strapped, a tripod on my back and my camera bag. After the night's events the only climbing I wanted to do was maybe into my bed, but I knew well that I was somehow supposed to climb a mountain just  six hours from then. The distance to the mountain looks big on a map, but in reality South Korea is about the size of Wisconsin and by bus the ride was only about three hours. In my flipped head space a shorter ride was a dreadful prospect. Every minute had to count to maximize sleep time.

As I waited for everyone to come down to the meeting spot other exchange students who weren't going on the trip were just starting to return home from getting obscenely drunk. I could hear them a mile away, coming back with trinkets which they had no recollection of acquiring. One girl had a giant stuffed teddy bear about half her size. I'm not exactly sure where they had been and they really didn't know either. I'm not sure why I tried asking them.

Those students who were going on the trip were in a similar stupor. They had went out with me the night before and I ended up having to call about three people to get them to wake up before they forfeited their $100 and one of the most memorable experiences they could have in Korea. Luckily for them, after about eight missed calls, they woke up and came down before we were forced to ditch them so we could make the bus on time.

We navigated the subways where the alcoholic and workaholic mingled in the early morning hours. Sitting on both sides of a disheveled man with his head in his hands sat two stern men in pinstripe suits. The ride was particularly bumpy - surely he learned his lesson for drinking so much and lingering on that train, however he most likely forgot it shortly after. For the entire train ride we looked at him with slight pity for his situation.

Eventually we ended up at the spot where the bus would pick us up with thirty minutes to spare. With tired minds we stumbled upon a nearby shopping centre where we split up for a short period of time to eat our breakfast. For myself and my friend Eshaan, this was a fast food burger at the South Korean McDonalds-style knockoff Lotteria. The "Super Double Burger", as it was referred to on the menu, was delicious but of questionable quality. It became abundantly clear after this meal that I had better treat my body a little bit better if I were to make it up the mountain with all of my camera gear.

I was ready to fall asleep anywhere, but when I sat down inside the lit-up interior of the tour bus I was given a second wind. Suddenly I was wide awake and completely exhilarated by the prospect of leaving the city for the first time. I had been in Korea for close to two months and for that entire period had only seen the flashy life of Seoul. It was time to leave the faces covered in make-up and modified by plastic surgery and see something organic for a change. I threw on my headphones and began listening to some music to match the occasion, something auspicious was in order to match this new-found feeling of discovery. I laid my backpack down on the empty seat next to me. I was ready to tackle the world.

A minute or two later I fell into a deep sleep. My bag became my pillow.

Spring Syndrome

RIGHT NOW in Korea the weather has decided to open up its good side to me. Halfway through April I can finally write under the shade of these beautiful and travel-brochure-like flowering trees in nothing but shorts, shades and a t-shirt. The smells of construction and barbecue awkwardly come at me in separate blasts over a great distance to where I am peacefully sitting on this bench.

I am overlooking the scenic lake that plays the star role of the Konkuk University campus. From time to time a frosty breeze reminds me that I was wearing a down jacket a week and a half ago, which is a small eternity for an exchange student. Things move slow here.

Still, two months into my adventure overseas, I move on knowing that time still moves as it always has. It's a little like staring at a sand timer, watching every little grain stack up until the job is done (for now). Only it's not just the time that has been flipped around - with you asleep while I'm awake - my entire life and the way I look at it has been overturned in a similar fashion.

2011 was a year for a lot of heavy things, not only for me but almost anyone I talked to. I remember it got so bad that the entire world thought that at the rate things were going everything would come to an end by the time we hit December of 2012. We entertained ourselves with this thought, sure. But I bet even John Cusack would agree that the whole idea of the world ending with things the way they were was like a scene from a bad movie. I like to think that we as humans deserve something better than that disaster.

Looking out at the Seoul skyline I see army helicopters. In fact, I've seen them every day I've been here. They look big and scary, sometimes rolling out in groups of five. The other day one was even so close to the ground I thought that if I pulled out my camera and zoomed in I could see the person driving it. I remember something though: Those big scary looking helicopters make rounds every day to keep the border in check. Although these helicopters still haunt the skies, they are a reminder of the trouble that still exists in the world while we are free to go about our care-free day-to-day.

As far as trouble in the world goes I see the situation improving. We can take comfort in the fact that evil governments such as the one found in North Korea were the norm only a century ago. Now they are the laughing stock of the world, having to lie to everyone (themselves included) just to continue existing. As for what these governments say about us we can rest assured that whatever truth their arguments once had against the modern world is now disappearing. I've found that even on its busiest day, nature still decides whether the sky will be blue in Seoul. This is true even with its status as the second largest metropolitan area on the planet.

Furthermore, people are learning more and more about the world they live in. I have found in the space of two months that, although the language barrier may still be high, this wall of communication has no trace of barbed wire and there are even those from the other side who offer a hand to pull you over. More people are willing to scale this obstacle not because they think the grass is greener, but simply because the grass is different. We embrace change and difference, this may be what separates us from past generations. Due to all their sacrifice we are wiser for all that happened in the past one-hundred years.

I like sitting out in the Sun until I'm burnt or tanned. It's not because of fashion or because I happen to be whiter than the rice I've been eating every morning or these flower petals that fall down on me as I write under this tree. It's because things can change at any moment, whether it be the weather, the wind, a woman, or the way I live. At least if I have a sun burn or a tan I can remember this good day and take it with me through any changes - good or bad. It's one of those rare moments where you were able to sit so long in the sun and just absorb the moment.

I'm not sure if it's only the Sun that makes me feel hopeful. At least if it is, I'm sure there are good reasons to be hopeful. Contrary to what we thought in 2011, I believe 2012 will mark not just the end but also the beginning. In this new movie everyone will have a role and will be too busy living to stop and watch another actor.

Tackling the Kraken

In my last post I told you about nakchi. That is, octopus that's been cooked and prepared. Delicious? Sure. But how do you mark a month in Korea the right way? The way that would make Koreans proud? This is san-nakchi, a way to mark a trip thats already one quarter of the way through. Just saying that makes me sad, so that's why I'm glad this happened:

At first Besarta and I (another exchange student, the one telling me not to die in the video) were the only ones who would eat this, but when we finally arrived with a group of about twenty to Noryangjin fish market suddenly everyone was in the mood to eat live squirming octopus tentacles. Don't ask me how that works.

Attack!!!

My only regret is that there were so many people to split this food with. It was honestly some really good stuff. Afterwards we moved on to have a more substantial meal of raw fish with the typical Korean hors d'oeuvres: lettuce wraps, garlic, hot peppers, more of that delicious red fire sauce from the video, you know how it goes. Of course, and this is the foodie bonus with Noryangjin, you pick out your own fish or octopus, whatever it is you're eating, and the restaurants prepare it for you in the correct fashion.

The raw fish segment

This banquet took place at a time when restaurant managers might be bidding on their wholesale fish stock for the day, around 2 A.M. in the morning to be exact. It was a very surreal and artistic sort of vibe that I picked up from the place. The most vivid image I had was of a cat wandering around mewing to itself and ignoring my attempts to make friends. I couldn't help but be struck by a hungry feline wandering around what is probably the biggest fish market in the country.

 

Within Seoul I feel as if mixed within the craziness are little images that inspire a quick moment of reflection and mystery.

We all had fun

How can you not when a night starts like this?

And the food was good, right Kevin?

Of course it was.

Korea Demands Your Attention (and won't give it back)

This is Seoul, South Korea:

You may have noticed. Look back at the posts I made when I first arrived. I set out to keep a consistent blog of my travels and ended up in a whirlpool of activities that made touching a computer for more than 20 minutes sheer blasphemy.

In that time I spent a lot of money, saw a lot of things, went out and flowed with the rhythm of the city day and night. A typical day for two weeks straight consisted of walking around and seeing what made Seoul tick - be it monuments, a show, food (both on and off the street), shopping, Buddhist temples, ancient royal palaces, and most importantly, the people. After I was done doing all of these things during the day I would take a nap then get up and go out into the neon wash of Seoul's night life. It is not only the people who live here as native Koreans but other exchange students who are pivotal to giving my experience context. We learn together what it means to be somewhere we've never been, no matter how nice whatever we left behind is. The other foreigners come from places like Stockholm, Paris, Nice, Bangkok, Beijing, Holland, India, Ghana, Italy, Finland - where do I stop with this list? These are places I dreamed of seeing, with people I dreamed of meeting, and here I am. Before this trip the canvas in my mind that I called "The World" was blank with the blue skies and fields from where I had grown up my whole life.



Now that has all changed. All of us have so far only met some Koreans, mainly dealt with the language barrier and therefore been at a disadvantage towards meeting so many who aren't good with English. The barrier is hard work and every day is some sort of work and so this is how it becomes. But this is all soon to change. We have started language classes and though I studied the language as much as one reasonably could before leaving, I find much to my frustration that my skills have splashed against the aforementioned barrier like water on rock. We're putting ourselves in more situations that require us to know Korean. It's one thing I've learned since being here that to truly separate yourself from the people is to spend your entire stay in a foreign place expecting people to adapt to you and not the other way around.

Adapting to such a different culture is easier said than done. It requires serious effort but the other alternative would be dissatisfaction and homesickness. This process of adapting is a two-way street however. I feel being in such a tiny group of Americans has really opened my eyes to the way I am perceived by others as a representative of what some consider "the most important country in the world". This is an arguable sentiment in my opinion, but interesting none the less.

I showed some Korean friends from my English teaching class my home-town in N.Y., a small place which is incredibly dull but picturesque. They said "Wow! The American dream!" It was an old term that I thought might have died somewhere between the 30's and the 50's. It made me question whether the American dream might be something that exists everywhere else but in America. Around where I live it seems as if such a sentiment would be laughable and received in the most jaded sense imaginable.



But that's a discussion for another day. Right now my only goal is to see if each day for the next week I can make it through spending less than 10,000 Won (the equivalent of about $10 in America). It's expensive here and I am a little horrified at what sort of bills I will have racked up in the coming months.

Also today was a sad day. Our program advisor Danbee Kim, who has been nothing but understanding of my antics, the worst of which being when I missed our planned excursion to Gyeongju (I will return when the weather is better) and the most common of which being when I won't answer my phone or call her on accident, has suddenly announced her departure from I.S.A. (I like to think it wasn't because of anything I might have done).

From the Left: Samantha Marquez, Danbee Kim, Jassmin Penado, Diana Ngo, Abby Cryan, Derek Koebrick, and myself.
International Study Abroad (I.S.A.) Spring 2012

Regardless, I am sure our new advisor will be really nice and hopefully as accommodating. Its her first time with an I.S.A. group and we will do our best to make her less intimidated of a new and unique job such as the one being passed on to her.

But, alas. I must thank Danbee for many things. Class registration, times when I overslept, and oh - who could forget this gem:

Winner: Blue team

That's right. Danbee went ahead and secured us some V.I.P. tickets to one of Seoul's most hilarious and talked-about show, Nanta. There was knife-juggling, all sorts of fire, people getting stuck in trash cans (Diana Ngo, one of my friends, couldn't quite help out the performer with that), and insane drum solos. I made it up to Danbee by winning the dumpling competition for the I.S.A. record book.

That same night, before the cooking performance of course, she treated us all to the best dinner I have had in Seoul - no questions asked. She came up with the idea after I had initially said how I like to eat spicy things (see the Jjimdak dish from my last post). This heavenly meal consisted of spicy octopus referred to in Korean as Nahkchi along with Kimchi octopus pancake. Danbee warned and prepared us all for the spiciness that would ensue, and I upped the ante by ordering us one bottle of soju.

What came next was the tastiest thing I've had in I don't even know how long. The nahkchi was mixed with bibimbap and though the pancake was absolute heaven, the thrill of meeting my spicy match in the heated battle of the year was enough to have me leaving more pancake for them and more fire for myself.

Octopus Pancake, Nahkchipajeon, Photo Credit goes to:
travelingbuddies.wordpress.com

Unfortunately I did not bring a camera along with me that time as part of my philosophy of experiencing first and photos second. The photo from Jassmin Penado and Samantha Marquez's travel blog seems to tactfully evade the real show-stopping fire that was nahkchi bibimbap. In a move of undeserved generosity, Danbee pulled us out of the hell fire with a stop to the corner store for some banana milk.

And so that night, like a lot of the other great nights and days courtesy of our program, is the reason why I will miss our advisor. International Study Abroad higher-ups, if you're reading this, give Danbee Kim an employee of the month award or something. She covered all our bases between work and play without the slightest irritation. Due to her patience, I feel like I'm playing while at work, studying and thriving in a city that never sleeps.
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For future reference, make sure you've eaten something good before reading this blog.
You've chosen the wrong country to learn more about if you can't get your greedy hands on something like this:

 This Sundae is one of the slightly more adventurous foods, but when weighing risk

and reward with food, you ought to take more chances in the name of your taste-buds.

Okay okay, enough torture with food. In the meantime though this has been what I've been doing...

Staying warm

Saying Hi to the neighbors

Strolling through campus

Meeting new faces  (Hello Inhye!)

Eating college kid food, About 5 dollars a plate.

Sleeping between class

Listening to new music, in a new place:

Much love to all my family and friends, and all you who read and are interested in the world.
-B

Pictures are worth a thousand words...

So here are some pictures.
gotta make it quick so I can see more, live more, eat more.
Click the pictures to expand. Read on.

Kimchi is delicious

Manduguk, Dumpling soup

One of the many views of Seoul

Coffee drink of some sort

Chillin' with a shake and a cigar

Saw this place in passing, the name escapes me now.

Dressing up as a scholar from the Joseon dynasty. The two cranes represent this.

Street view better than Google can do.

Tea ceremony in a traditional house (Hanok)

Jjimdak - a spicy clear noodle dish with succulent morsels of chicken (Watch out for bones)

Rooftops of Hanoks in Insadong

Wall art with messages and couples signing their names.

Rooftop view of Insadong

Looked over a ledge and found this.
I didn't even collect on this but I really should've, knowing how amazing food is here...

There were some more things I wanted to photograph and take footage of, but of course my fancy-schmancy DSLR ran out of battery. I will return to the same spot and take better pictures of the wonders I found as I progressed down Insadong.


I found out how to use the Seoul subway, which I had approached with some degree of trepidation. However, with touchscreen informational terminals located with a special button for foreigners, I found it incredibly easy to navigate. The trains were massive and the entire subway was spotless and high-tech. At no point was I ever in fear of being robbed or accosted by strangers. This is a smart city.


Until next time.

The Arrival

I boarded the plane to Korea with an innocent idea of a 'long plane ride'. I was fortunate enough to fly next to two laid-back individuals. One was Tom, an older Vietnamese man with a grasp of English that was enough for a small joke here and there (he sort of struck me as a 47-year-old kid with his affinity for creature comforts). On my left was my other comrade, Eun-Ji, a charming and pretty girl who I was shocked to find was actually 27 and married. She had studied in the U.S. for four years and now was returning to Seoul.
Throughout the flight she gave me tips and helped me to understand some things. Her most emphasized point was to never say, "What?" if I was trying to understand someone. The translation of this statement in Asian cultures implies that the person you're addressing might actually be crazy and makes people feel self-conscious. She was big in convincing me not to fear speaking the language and making a few mistakes.
Korean Air was very much to my liking. You're able to play Street Fighter on the seat in front of you and I watched the movie 50/50, as well as Blind (블라인드). This, of  course, was while me and Tom were supplied with a beer and the three of us munched on bibimbap.
Towards the end of the flight Tom and I went to the back of the plane and took pictures flying over China (We couldn't fly over North Korea as you might imagine). This spectacle attracted one or two passengers and an air hostess. These women were about as professional as possible and their attire reminded me very much of some 1950s travel videos.
The Seoul Incheon airport was incredibly clean, quiet, and spacious. The baggage claim was almost reminiscent of some place of worship. This is where myself and two other people from my program rendezvoused and ironically found ourselves worshiping for the Bag Gods to deliver our suitcases. Our prayers were answered in short order.
With barely any time to experience the fabled "Best Airport in the World" I was ushered out with our group by our adviser Danbee and put into the back of a deluxe taxi. We were seeing lots of random skyscrapers and condominiums awkwardly jutting out of the cold greenish-brown landscape. Mountains are everywhere, which were absolutely stunning but seem to create wind that cuts through any layers you're wearing.
Derrick, another student apart of the I.S.A. group became my room mate. We came up to the third floor of our dorm building and found that all the lights were turned off and no one was actually there. Understandably  a little off-put by this, we found our door and fumbled at the futuristic locking mechanism for a while. It requires you to punch a button and then wave your card in front of it. I know, not very complicated but it looks like it at first. Among other oddities in our room (besides having our own bathroom) is the fact that our shower is a walk-in with a drain under the sink. I don't know how this doesn't produce mold but it doesn't, I guess.
We found much to our chagrin that we didn't have any pillows or toilet paper and other necessities and decided to head out and find something. On our way out to search the streets for these things we found the other people who would be living in our hall and, thankfully, a light switch. These people living on our floor were business students from Ghana, the Netherlands, Germany and India, all of whom were in the same boat as us and didn't know a lick of Korean.
As the one person with some understanding of the language and the ability to read what it says, I willingly led us out to where I had seen the most action when we pulled in at first. As a side mission we searched for food as well.
I was so absolutely dead tired that I could barely hold my end of any encounter in Korean. Our quest had ended with everyone else getting Burger King (figures) and myself and the guy from India enjoying some street food. It tasted like spicy ravioli.
And of course after that I collapsed in a heap on my new bed.

Chicago O'Hare Airport

View over China

View over China pt.2

Seoul Incheon Airport