tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87166413813582731932024-03-06T06:25:38.867+09:00Katie's Travels in KoreaKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-18318156155172646582011-02-03T03:20:00.000+09:002011-02-03T03:20:45.456+09:00http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ktx/1/1296701252/tpod.html<a href="http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ktx/1/1296701252/tpod.html">http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ktx/1/1296701252/tpod.html</a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-54809467029072809362011-02-03T03:16:00.002+09:002011-02-03T03:20:40.456+09:00Top ten travel experiences.<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This list has no certain order. How could it? Every moment on this list was once in a lifetime.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">10- Istanbul </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">I know it's cheating a bit to put a entire city on this list but for Istanbul I will make a exception. It is my favorite city on the planet, heavy with history, indie culture and amazing food. I only spent three full days in the city and I hope to return as soon as possible. Istanbul was the center of the western world for centuries and the mix of roman and ottoman culture has created one prefect world city. The cistern was a personal favorite and managed to stand out in a already brilliant city.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">9-1:30 AM at Senso-ji Temple</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">Stephany and I took the last jam packed subway train back to our Hostel at 1:30 AM after a fast paced yakatori meal. We decided to swing by the Temple before heading back. The temple is usually packed with city dwellers and tourists alike. Yet when Stephany and I walked through the Temple grounds, we had everything to ourselves. The massive straw shoes, the lanterns and the five story pagoda was our playground. We ran around, snapped silly pictures and fulled our childhood dream of sisters traveling to far off Japan.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">8-Amsterdam </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">Ok, I lied. Just one more city on this list of what was meant to be experiences. In my defense Amsterdam was like more a experience than a city for me. I had a ten hour layover in the city after my week in Turkey. Like everyone else on the planet, I fell in love within a moment in Amsterdam. Everyone is young, beautiful and riding bicycles. The city is like my beloved Portland plus the history I find so intoxicating. In the measly eight hours I had in the city I managed to to take a boat tour, eat about 16 meals and fulfill my dream of seeing some dutch master paintings at the Rijksmuseam. If Amsterdam was this exasperating for eight hours just imagine after I move there to work in the Rijkarchive! In my wildest dreams perhaps....</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">7-DMZ</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">I have done two different DMZ tours in Korea and they both were interesting and informative. Yet one moment stands apart. It was my third weekend in Korea and I took a tour to the northeast province. This was the same trip as the bungee jump of infamy. One night a group of us hiked up a local hill from our middle-of-nowhere home-stay. The hill used to be a genuine mountain before it got shelled into shambles during the war. After climbing to the top of the hill I turned a corner behind a monument and their it was, the DMZ. I saw before and I've seen it seen it since but never like this. It streaches as far as the eye can see in earthier direction. I had gone ahead of the group so I was alone amongst the boundary of steel fencing and spotlights. It was a shocking awaking that this country I was going to call my new home was at war.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">6-Dancing at the Temple of Heaven</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">As self respecting guide book will tell you, the main attraction of the temple of heaven is not the multi-hued round temple itself but the park surrounding it. This is where the residents of Beijing come to exercise, sing karaoke, fly kites and prance will ribbons. Sometime after entering the park and before posing for more pictures (blondes do have more fun in China), I saw a group of older Chinese women line dancing for their Saturday morning workout. I knew if I didn't join it I would regret it later on. The women loved it and were more than patient for showing me the moves. I never thought I would go to China. I grew up thinking of China as the Far East, somewhere as unattainable as the Moon. Yet, here I was dancing the int Temple of Heaven. It made me giddy with happiness.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">5-Street Parties and Festivals In Fukuoka<br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">Last year I went for a wildly expensive weekend in Fukuoka Japan. I knew nothing about the southern most island other than I had two days off work and we could take a three hour ferry. We arrived on a Saturday night and I wanted to check out a district known for its night life and street food. I knew instantly that I was somewhere very different the moment I stepped off the subway. Advertisements for Host Bars lit up the sky in neon hues and everywhere the people where dressed in innovated interesting fashions. It was a wonderful change after Barbieland aka Daegu. Street food was everywhere and ranged from the classic meat on a stick to whole lobsters. The place entranced me and I joined the festivities, buying hot cups of sake from local vendors. Still moment alone would have deserved a spot on my list but I was even more lucky. We went during a small matsuri so dancers and musicians joined the festivities with the cross-dressers and street vendors. It was a perfect first trip out of Korea.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">Sorry about the rush! I leave in a few hours for Thailand!</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">4- Riding my bike around Xian City Wall</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">In the Chinese city of Xian (the city of the terracotta soldiers) there was an amazing old city wall surrounding the city. My friends and I rented bikes and got to a wonderful next perspective of the city.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">3-Getting caught in a rain storm in a bamboo forest in Japan.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">2- The Great Wall!</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="lt-LT">1- Balloon ride over Kapidokia</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-3380993781332178732011-01-29T16:24:00.005+09:002011-01-29T17:30:11.690+09:00Top ten things I will miss about Korea.10-Free Delivery <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Want some delicious mushroom squid noodles delivered to your house? Do you only have 4,000 won? Well in Korea this is no problem as acres of delivery restaurants, service the needs of the hungry apartment bound masses. It took me a solid year of trial and error to figure out how to order from the monthly delivery books dropped off at my house. The food comes in less then thirty minutes and delivery is free. I will miss the moped man delivering everything from Pizza, Korean, McDonalds to Sushi.</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4dW75zyP7llhA_MzSbsJq4YSpJDEEalsVLQNwLgkonBBB4dEhQmQ6_yZOS-yG0dzhBcHFz4N4E3h8rceA40aHz8aJ-t-QNCiXr7fu04B1mu6H2pxGPSvWrD21pUFRrQ6Wxj24A11lQA/s1600/19271_517605258352_60101090_30693078_2311805_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4dW75zyP7llhA_MzSbsJq4YSpJDEEalsVLQNwLgkonBBB4dEhQmQ6_yZOS-yG0dzhBcHFz4N4E3h8rceA40aHz8aJ-t-QNCiXr7fu04B1mu6H2pxGPSvWrD21pUFRrQ6Wxj24A11lQA/s320/19271_517605258352_60101090_30693078_2311805_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567507814888626498" border="0" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">9-Korean Hiking Culture </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A middle aged man who won't give you anything but a massive wad of phlegm is transformed once you reach the top of any of Daegus local peaks. All of a sudden the older generation of Koreans becomes your best friend. There hasn't been a single time when I have hiked to the top of a mountain and not been greeted by a few free snacks or in one case, a round of drinks. The greatest kindness I have encountered was when my friends and I hiked Apsan Mountain the day after Christmas. It was freezing cold and my friend had forgotten her gloves. A older gentleman (who raced passed us as every Korean is in way better hiking shape than I) offered her a extra pair that he had brought in his bag. I just wish the kindness on the mountain could be continued on the subway.</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_Vphs6CG4aDsnwIg36zKooH-pGwAHlG9PTLXU03l1IM854xNXwf7IDmW6DiG7pY-OBa5f1smntCXuudGWUqr1HIELAj1toeZeXlh0qwm1SuRGT4-z_HNT7p9Bs4TbyOz7wuNzIKujoY/s1600/koreahikeman.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_Vphs6CG4aDsnwIg36zKooH-pGwAHlG9PTLXU03l1IM854xNXwf7IDmW6DiG7pY-OBa5f1smntCXuudGWUqr1HIELAj1toeZeXlh0qwm1SuRGT4-z_HNT7p9Bs4TbyOz7wuNzIKujoY/s320/koreahikeman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567508041050913938" border="0" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">8-Food Glorious Food</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At first glance Korean food looks intimating and I personally was disappointed that it wasn't identical to Japanese. However, after a few months I was hooked. My favorite part of Korean cuisine is the side dishes. They are different at every restaurant and during every season. The staples include spinach, acorn jelly, long sliver fish, tiny fish, yellow pickled radish, onion salad, sweet potato and of course, kimchi. I can't believe I'm staying this but, I am going to miss kimchi. The salty acidic cabbage has become a staple of my diet and a meal hasn't begun without it. When I went home over Thanksgiving, I was disappointed by the fact that my meal was all served on one plate. I guess I just have to move to Spain next and day eat tapas all day!</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">7.5- Red Bean Bread Fish</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Warm, sweet, yummy and three for a dollar. Need I say more? I just wish these waffley sweets were cooked up year round. </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_IowGfFkp39gBMpp8qvJCNAb5yu_36q8s-FE3Et0wAv3F15DQD4Z3M19ZVcrvLRY5IPUbpDQyAA1hZauRD4uzwrPj-XKD9uEiXlvt0B_E2BV3eDjKM_PWKGfrq0JS1yXIv7vc8iz1Go/s1600/IMG_2415.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_IowGfFkp39gBMpp8qvJCNAb5yu_36q8s-FE3Et0wAv3F15DQD4Z3M19ZVcrvLRY5IPUbpDQyAA1hZauRD4uzwrPj-XKD9uEiXlvt0B_E2BV3eDjKM_PWKGfrq0JS1yXIv7vc8iz1Go/s320/IMG_2415.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567511233816511714" border="0" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">7.25-Fruit</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Super cheap and sold on every street corner, I will miss Korean fruit Adjummas. Street fruit is only sold in season so its always fresh and delicious. A big bag of kumquats for 3,000 won? I'm in heaven.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">7-Cheap and Easy Transportation.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Its not interesting to write about but I never imagined it would be this easy to get around without a car.<br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">6-Korean Fashion</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Hot pants and high heels, floor length real fur coats, men's bedazzled jeans and of course couple wear. Daegu fashion is a strange combination of conservative and girly. You rarely see colors brighter than baby pink and many women's wardrobes could easily be shared with Barbie. While I never hopped completely on the bandwagon if have found myself wearing more leggings, (even Jeggings God help me) skirts and Velcro strap fake converse. It's exhausting to see so many beautiful people everywhere and at home I will be relieved to stop being the dumpyist 20-something downtown.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">5-K-Pop and K-dramas</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The flashy and strangely addictive Korean pop dance beats blast out of every available store orifice at all hours of the day and night. It's annoying but sinks quickly into your brain. Similar to kimchi, I found myself craving K-pop and kept a secret stash on my computer. K-dramas are a much larger time commitment and embarrassingly much more addictive. I watched two complete dramas series on mysoju.com and only my hapkido class and work kept me from watching more. Its hard to ignore the successful dramas, “Secret Garden” being the most recent. My students debated them in class, my friends knew the actors real love dramas and the cab drivers watched the series finale on their in-cab-tv's. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ygkhxUItiUM?rel=0" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="640"></iframe><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">3-Teaching</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It might be exhausting and I am pretty sure I took years off my voice box but I will fondly miss teaching. It's a career that plays to my vanities. Everyone listen to me, look at me and laugh at me. I am here for their entertainment. Oh, and to teach I guess although the role of the foreigner teacher is half of each. The kids call my name as I walk through the hallway and I get a rush from actually helping them understand. I will be pursuing a masters in archival science but I hope to integrate it with public education in some way. I enjoy the performance aspect of education far too much to never continue.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">2-Safety</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">From leaving my computer and wallet out in the open in a coffee shop to the keypad entry on my apartment I have never felt safer than I do in Korea. Nobody rips you off and bartering is unheard of. I walk home alone at 4:30 AM at a regular basis and I have never once felt threatened. I think one of the most difficult parts of returning home will be giving up freedom which only comes with feeling secure.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">1-Friends</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When you leave your friends and family to live in a foreign country you start from page one. The friends I have been blessed to make in this chapter of my life have become some of my closest friends. We work together, eat together and become each others new family. More than simply friends, I will miss my new family and hope to visit everyone again no matter what corner of the globe we call home. </p>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-78394875147931410722010-12-19T21:49:00.000+09:002010-12-21T01:16:12.610+09:00Top Ten At TenHello all my lovely readers/Mom. I have been pretty lazy on my blogging lately and my time in Korea quickly runs to a close. I want to get a KaTU style Ten At Ten segments about my favorite, worst and most surreal moment in the last two years. So lets get started!<br /><br />Top Ten Awkward Cringe Inducing Moments (in no particular order)<br /><br />10. Bungee jumping<br />Most people jump off a bridge for the excitement and energy rush. I have never wanted to go bungee jumping, to be honest it always looked too damn scary. Yet my third weekend in Korea I went on a DMZ tour of the northeast province. Bungee jumping wasn't part of the trip but it was only 30,000 won (28 bucks) and I decided to go because... it was cheap. Mistake. I was the last one in line and only jumped after being hooked up twice and eventually got pushed off in the dark. I actually enjoyed the fall and the adrenaline rush. The reason bungee jumping is on this list is my tear-stained face and ruined lungs and the firm reminder that you shouldn't attempt a extreme sport simply because its cheap.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37BPtHaL03WYUHKuZNXOdLDQcWgJ2Ysvn041GyZ7Osh-lbJcGfHwgaKyfyOjIBgQauuTyvgtIK1vEucvpNjiqeDQOB20ONbKiqzQq4CTpDDY5qqFd22JfJtLlA8EVq-X10J3rZXvtW_A/s1600/beforeijump.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37BPtHaL03WYUHKuZNXOdLDQcWgJ2Ysvn041GyZ7Osh-lbJcGfHwgaKyfyOjIBgQauuTyvgtIK1vEucvpNjiqeDQOB20ONbKiqzQq4CTpDDY5qqFd22JfJtLlA8EVq-X10J3rZXvtW_A/s320/beforeijump.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552608838598546466" border="0" /></a><br /><br />9.Ulleungdo<br /><br />Any trip where the highlight is feeding seagulls in sure to end in failure. From the beginning of this trip where I almost got seasick on ferry to the end where we thought we had to stay another night. It was a disaster. Rain, expensive terrible food and nothing to do. How did this lonely depressing little island have the undying love of an entire country? The answer is tied to Dokdo and Korean national pride neither of which applies to a group of foreigners naively dreaming of a beach vacation. I think the majority of this trip can be summed up in the tiny five per room hotels and the fleas which distracted me from the sound of incessant rain.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLW6J4BVVu5arZQljKrf_e0XZYOi1ZDNpM-sZxhAXAHe0lVP0-CKIFvRuByF7dJ-CG6xe1FPzJ1dP9eyeyov1n8zNScJBOnyEPNU2RTuu2rgchyRoQ4JBf1KoJFCoJn2xsB9v9NOlZ-0U/s1600/IMG_3573.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLW6J4BVVu5arZQljKrf_e0XZYOi1ZDNpM-sZxhAXAHe0lVP0-CKIFvRuByF7dJ-CG6xe1FPzJ1dP9eyeyov1n8zNScJBOnyEPNU2RTuu2rgchyRoQ4JBf1KoJFCoJn2xsB9v9NOlZ-0U/s320/IMG_3573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552611964310057666" border="0" /></a><br />No one can ever see it but, trust me it's out there and it belongs to Korea.<br /><br />8.The Korean Theme Park Death Ride<br /><br />From the strange mashup of themes to the sketchiness of the roller coasters Korean theme parks are the guilty pleasure of Korea. I know I shouldn't enjoy the cheesy decor but I do. I have been to two local Daegu parks, the strangle baby animal roundup in Everland in Seoul and California themed waterpark where none of the pools are over a meter deep. The best ride at any Korean theme park is the tambourine. Its 80's inspired grandeur was at every theme park I explored. Its a massive wheel which spins around and shudders, throwing your entire body off the seat. There is no seat belt, just the desperation of your own sweaty palms. I know a friend whose spine was injured on this ride and another couple who vomited on it. I have managed to survive this ride multiple times and the first I was given no warning except hold on. Its a nasty ride and one that would never survive in America's sue happy system.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWhixOl5VfjOFJek8PA7ohKJx8lCzB0VjwSGJtSVlkpLzeJIcNgXh0S9ehGOs6-alE9jAEeTE3AsfX9ZUdBtB9nh2Qqrvn0VhhcQSHHgNpxEcZ0j305Wb1zJ3qvUytaPTsTD3QzyaqZQ/s1600/tamborine.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWhixOl5VfjOFJek8PA7ohKJx8lCzB0VjwSGJtSVlkpLzeJIcNgXh0S9ehGOs6-alE9jAEeTE3AsfX9ZUdBtB9nh2Qqrvn0VhhcQSHHgNpxEcZ0j305Wb1zJ3qvUytaPTsTD3QzyaqZQ/s320/tamborine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552620026538411138" border="0" /></a><br /><br />7. Andong <br /><br />This place claimed to be a interesting Korean folk village. Perhaps it is not during the freezing cold month of December. A three hour bus ride lead me and my friends into the middle a empty folk village. It was cold miserable and the level of excitement accepted before something get labeled a "attraction" is much lower in Korea then I am used to. However Andong set a new high for level of boring in a major attraction. There was signs which labeled "Pine Forest", "Straw Roof" and a whole building devoted to Queen Elizabeth's visit. In Andong's defense we did go during off season and the Jimduck (Chicken, veggies and rice noodle mashup) was out of this world. Still I will never forgive Andong for the frostbite I suffered on my soul.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsAJ0vsdLvGXaDP7_5_ZO8aWhDsKo-D6QtZWbMz7GWHv1BKjvjEVfUKmDJYUQLhTNMkbvXtzOtj4RBKM0b4rrwO-rvg4XqHUFDKFZQoo3ttsE4EkID1bH-ER8q2HKzJJa2kef9Re4HcM/s1600/andong.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsAJ0vsdLvGXaDP7_5_ZO8aWhDsKo-D6QtZWbMz7GWHv1BKjvjEVfUKmDJYUQLhTNMkbvXtzOtj4RBKM0b4rrwO-rvg4XqHUFDKFZQoo3ttsE4EkID1bH-ER8q2HKzJJa2kef9Re4HcM/s320/andong.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552624534596883842" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />6. WWF at Camp Walker<br /><br />See earlier post and bask in the excitement of our military based deodorant shopping spree.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzn0mqw4n65Cbvph83OAP_dHzMyWi5Y-AaD2QyVR4Woq-4hlFNq3u5Y5YpExkVHPZydp1wojl_iSOVNgib3Y5adjNZwi91KkidDsGupn_4wuBM8EKAGCv_2dbO_mG5zBgShrrP7pnE4Yg/s1600/deordor.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzn0mqw4n65Cbvph83OAP_dHzMyWi5Y-AaD2QyVR4Woq-4hlFNq3u5Y5YpExkVHPZydp1wojl_iSOVNgib3Y5adjNZwi91KkidDsGupn_4wuBM8EKAGCv_2dbO_mG5zBgShrrP7pnE4Yg/s320/deordor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552625867728210098" border="0" /></a><br /><br />5. Exploring the Infamous Sangin Nighuh<br />As I have often explained prostitution in its various degrees exists all over my neighborhood. On strange Wednesday night my friends and I decided to enter Sangin Night, the local nightclub with on demand prostitution in the backrooms. The night was bizarre with barely anyone else in the place and the strange floor show which was not staffed with Russians despite the questions I occasionally receive. Chatting with your everyday bouncer/ hustler was strange indeed and a interesting view into the world that is everywhere around us yet completely hidden.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoApFqcGwZYKRS0SUSE1fbIzRxb4cWaQdG-zY_0v2Yiq9eu3YurqYLG2ZcXv48TeeBlGav0d6TilvRksY7_y_CHyRemROjpkxGU8Uehdc-oHUET9DpSNXcuxdIgkFvO7wr-kiYe5z9vA0/s1600/sanginnightuh.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoApFqcGwZYKRS0SUSE1fbIzRxb4cWaQdG-zY_0v2Yiq9eu3YurqYLG2ZcXv48TeeBlGav0d6TilvRksY7_y_CHyRemROjpkxGU8Uehdc-oHUET9DpSNXcuxdIgkFvO7wr-kiYe5z9vA0/s320/sanginnightuh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552630562312953650" border="0" /></a><br /><br />4. Limousine?<br />It was the end of the Frisbee season and our fantastic Irish captain had decided to rent our bottom of the League team a limousine to arrive at the field basting "The Final Countdown" and breaking out into dance. When the Limo arrived it was in fact a airport van and the driver would not can't from blasting ABBA for enough time for our arrival to look even quasi bad-ass. Awkward? Of course but that moment when the van pulled up to see all of us dressed to the nines accompanied by Kenneth's Irish swearing was some of the best gut busting laughter of my life.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB2M3GHURd-8h5KV5nz3PMMR_ESxZM7lxb8boHh3OM-0GkH8TiM-ExnNqHiXj5oNkcMmHNK40BDPTKIbPAAkgZ56FQfb-5f6rDKpwzZZrIwq4tBjQr5JX6FQm5l3K04V8nlXQIyxTFh_U/s1600/limo.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB2M3GHURd-8h5KV5nz3PMMR_ESxZM7lxb8boHh3OM-0GkH8TiM-ExnNqHiXj5oNkcMmHNK40BDPTKIbPAAkgZ56FQfb-5f6rDKpwzZZrIwq4tBjQr5JX6FQm5l3K04V8nlXQIyxTFh_U/s320/limo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552633168056731266" border="0" /></a><br /><br />3. Park Sung Tae<br /><br />He's more than your local Representative he is...the most interesting man in the world. Ok, maybe not. In far he was a far cry from that. Meeting him the hallway of my school was hysterical. Going to his formal election night party was anything but, awkward with no one who spoke english or under the age of 50, it was a far cry from my black tie, DonP fantasy which involved Hannah and I riding around in his campaigning trucks. We stayed there for two desperate hours before we fled the scene.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdl3_LiDeCF8VK4XZCC0uhm1OxfMEc_y0UJC2UmMISJrdqFY49BoBPG-YluZZMJyhczzIa18djC1ceKNa7Mnir8JGTu0B3isruPeRz9IKdlYlmmZRBavyZvNEOOrCczUK3KlZeTJaKScc/s1600/IMG_3478.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdl3_LiDeCF8VK4XZCC0uhm1OxfMEc_y0UJC2UmMISJrdqFY49BoBPG-YluZZMJyhczzIa18djC1ceKNa7Mnir8JGTu0B3isruPeRz9IKdlYlmmZRBavyZvNEOOrCczUK3KlZeTJaKScc/s320/IMG_3478.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552638734163336658" border="0" /></a><br /><br />2. Being a Medically Induced Vegan<br /><br />Heck I don't quite understand it myself but thanks to lame genetics (love you Dad!) I can no longer eat animal products. This is universality awkward but Korea as is a country of meat meat meat and flash dieting. Nobody really believes that I have health reasons for what I am doing. "What is that wonderful flash diet your on?" some Korean friends love to ask. Also no one in the restaurant business believes me. They just think I am a horrible picky foreigner who just doesn't like beef/eggs/milk. As you can imagine this has put a major damper on work dinners as I eat only rice and pretend not to mind public discussions about my weight.<br />Luckily the majority of my friends have been super understanding and bend over backwards to eat where I can eat. However their food still looks better than mine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinECk5OiFs2GuLXBrHYsih82Gi8SNQNy99F5J8xgaKg0vGCKkrk7Ltvs27wwqi6LMSregbl6d_h2Ek27Eolrg_pptFe9jnGj1_bHGV9A7tGpFa7nFNRkyyqWPoj2DgW0EoYUkC03Uxzik/s1600/jess%2527s+meat.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinECk5OiFs2GuLXBrHYsih82Gi8SNQNy99F5J8xgaKg0vGCKkrk7Ltvs27wwqi6LMSregbl6d_h2Ek27Eolrg_pptFe9jnGj1_bHGV9A7tGpFa7nFNRkyyqWPoj2DgW0EoYUkC03Uxzik/s320/jess%2527s+meat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552798887639774754" border="0" /></a><br /><br />1. Everything my students inappropriately share<br /><br />Sometimes my students can be pointed rude and often racist but most of the its naively cute. Like the time where my boy students talked about their "fire balls" through class. Other times its much stranger like the Korean obsession of cartoon pictures of poop. The most awkward teaching moment is when my 8 year old male student asked me if I had a boyfriend. When I negatively replied he told me I should date his brother who would "put a baby in me". To this day I don't know where he heard that.<br /><br />Well that's all for this top ten. Whats next? Most awe striking travel moments? Things that should be carried over to the States? Couplewear? Anyone have any suggestions, I have plans to write at least two more before I start my travels.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-32824302173998061972010-10-06T11:48:00.011+09:002010-10-06T13:52:13.695+09:00Ulleungdo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DTejI8n8karMRZOfwlrh1-uoV5F4ELWruXK4Ikjd2nqMTVJshxDqeZWMZeiD8uCR8_8MVtQI2K1tKMt6BU1YfNdbYSFhs-6Z5GDHOUbCneTUX4iGTC4sqkie7ZcDnanjM4ZrBhC7a80/s1600/IMG_3565.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DTejI8n8karMRZOfwlrh1-uoV5F4ELWruXK4Ikjd2nqMTVJshxDqeZWMZeiD8uCR8_8MVtQI2K1tKMt6BU1YfNdbYSFhs-6Z5GDHOUbCneTUX4iGTC4sqkie7ZcDnanjM4ZrBhC7a80/s320/IMG_3565.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524789484802478946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Over the short three day midweek holiday of Chuseok, I traveled with a group of ten friends to the "mysterious" island known as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ulleungdo">Ullenugdo</a>. Located 75 miles into the <strike>Sea of Japan</strike> East Sea, the island is famous for cliff side landscapes and dried squid. Due to recent drastic dietary changes I would only be able to enjoy one of the above. However that wouldn't stop me from enjoying this island that had been hyped up from every Korean who knew I was going. According to my students Ulleungdo is a combination of Mecca and Disneyland. A nationalist paradise/ultimate vacation location.<br /><br />We shipped out early Tuesday morning for a four hour hydrofoil journey. The boat was packed full of families traveling for the holiday. The floor space was jammed full of people who had set up camp and were laying on the floor. At first I mocked the Korean tendency to set up camp but then as I grew more and more seasick, laying on the floor seemed like a good idea. Eventuality I slid off my chair and onto the floor, enjoying the rest of the trip from the comfort of a good nap. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJOnE1QT9RzLSj87V_vksjVZcM4JrnbOLlRaDd0HXer3mMLihN9-Y4_LBHpeWM2tZHkq-v0dH1V0l74TWOwBEIiIRbDJgPOfyKGh2RaaWLiDCMRS6r0KfzNTW9PyNe4CjZfE4eu9eQKc/s1600/IMG_3524.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJOnE1QT9RzLSj87V_vksjVZcM4JrnbOLlRaDd0HXer3mMLihN9-Y4_LBHpeWM2tZHkq-v0dH1V0l74TWOwBEIiIRbDJgPOfyKGh2RaaWLiDCMRS6r0KfzNTW9PyNe4CjZfE4eu9eQKc/s320/IMG_3524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524766841867748882" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After a four hour boat ride we spied the so-called mysterious island, where we were hustled into a expensive restaurant and ate some unhygienic food. This turned out to be a theme throughout the trip. We were then rounded up onto another boat for a trip around the island by our inept tour company. Another theme of the trip. The second boat ride of the day revealed the craggy coastline of the island. It was quite beautiful, I think. To tell the truth I was distracted from the scenery by approximately fifty birds swooping over my head. The brochure for the boat trip mentioned two great activities, taking pictures and feeding native wildlife. Also known as seagulls. I wish I could read Korean so I would have been prepared for this bombardment of animals and excrement. I confess, the whole thing was slightly exciting in a Hitchcockian manner but it grew old fast.<br />EunGyung, Your not helping! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0BKge2-cII_qTUzT0E1nv98I24OHI0MENGld5e-GNMRdYD5ZHmj45YdKEoPUdQ8_bP0BdMtaz6gwsvYgLwsc7W4VUfy7YTIB34AZSziZpgaRwPEg5IE4BtesB0vZdDU-PXmNgnBpwiw/s1600/thebirdddddddssss.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0BKge2-cII_qTUzT0E1nv98I24OHI0MENGld5e-GNMRdYD5ZHmj45YdKEoPUdQ8_bP0BdMtaz6gwsvYgLwsc7W4VUfy7YTIB34AZSziZpgaRwPEg5IE4BtesB0vZdDU-PXmNgnBpwiw/s320/thebirdddddddssss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524773508469045554" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKo26OHQU91TIfIrB0ZzT3nr_zDN0ca8YXPD5RmcGHwWvCkgR2lm-hNjfSe2zbH1oTeuBvwD0V7oPMKadjA45u_qSg_5XAt_5kOrv_SMDZEbtpjtHfeCOFpg9HEuhMJWhhL51jE41W_U/s1600/IMG_3535.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKo26OHQU91TIfIrB0ZzT3nr_zDN0ca8YXPD5RmcGHwWvCkgR2lm-hNjfSe2zbH1oTeuBvwD0V7oPMKadjA45u_qSg_5XAt_5kOrv_SMDZEbtpjtHfeCOFpg9HEuhMJWhhL51jE41W_U/s320/IMG_3535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524772730860307394" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And that was the highlight of my trip.<br /><br />Only half joking. We were lead to our tiny minbak (five people to a room and floor beds) with no food and no entertainment. We were on our own with only thousands of tiny fleas to keep us company.<br /><br />Wednesday was a 24 hour downpour and a public holiday. We walked 40 minutes over the hill and back into port only to find everything was closed. We feasted like convenience store kings that day, playing monopoly and watching the rain. Not quite the tropical island experience I fantasized about. Luckily I had a bunch of great friends to pass the time with.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXKyXj3v7r-8SBSEo_G4WGVJ5n_7n0i5sjawsgk60SZzQjoPMx_bvvwPAqZM3g1tclbQef_jEG5OLg55hwrX__OvigZt41h1XZ8eB1M8H7LvhGWCPxP5H3SlXjs6HWu3_EElnl6zEKa4/s1600/thegang.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXKyXj3v7r-8SBSEo_G4WGVJ5n_7n0i5sjawsgk60SZzQjoPMx_bvvwPAqZM3g1tclbQef_jEG5OLg55hwrX__OvigZt41h1XZ8eB1M8H7LvhGWCPxP5H3SlXjs6HWu3_EElnl6zEKa4/s320/thegang.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524781156319769234" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We woke up on Thursday to sunny skies. The island had been transformed into something worth our time. After emerging like my students from a PC room, we stepped out into the fresh air and decided to take a hike around the coastline.<br />It was undoubtedly my favorite Korean hike with jagged rocks complemented by some of the bluest water I have ever seen.<br /><br />Of course we only had time for short hike and then we where dragged out to catch the ferry back to Daegu. In the end I spent a three days and a good deal of money for a three hour hike.<br /><br />Very few foreigners make it out to Ulleungdo. I think the island could be a worthwhile destination if the weather agrees with you. Also a last word of warning, the weather is volatile and there are only two ferries to the island everyday. Don't be surprised if you are forced spend another night on the island. We almost had to miss a day of work. I was a shame we didn't end up spending one more day on the island, with the sunny weather it would have been nice. It was a unlucky trip all around.<br /><br />Sorry about the months in between posting everyone! I have a recent glut of free time and I promise to write more.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdC-yqk0_WpBGUVXD8dw63fpHnLOJhggQ2Tz4bXMbtSxg0GWp7m81tQWJkzWl80vNjyZ9MkUriklkJx6_6_zO1RnOa9bd9i-F-rq_0sL2KMFsrEhs7Ush2W2FL7vyjoZBoP1GCibAjCkw/s1600/IMG_3597.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdC-yqk0_WpBGUVXD8dw63fpHnLOJhggQ2Tz4bXMbtSxg0GWp7m81tQWJkzWl80vNjyZ9MkUriklkJx6_6_zO1RnOa9bd9i-F-rq_0sL2KMFsrEhs7Ush2W2FL7vyjoZBoP1GCibAjCkw/s320/IMG_3597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524785851359098386" border="0" /></a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-81007748487990401682010-08-26T10:30:00.003+09:002010-08-26T10:34:22.830+09:00Couple Wear<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghgODkePpfe0xC8KQJp0tz2MpS4XOmqyA1EsEn6YR-jzWCNI9sWU2ast7K10GQLAONM1-_BACXOjtxJBQDXurgqtb2fESrhcIacWLsbckkzPBLOuTtb4kFNavh7PQbbJ44_maaJcMVNGE/s1600/DSC_0925.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghgODkePpfe0xC8KQJp0tz2MpS4XOmqyA1EsEn6YR-jzWCNI9sWU2ast7K10GQLAONM1-_BACXOjtxJBQDXurgqtb2fESrhcIacWLsbckkzPBLOuTtb4kFNavh7PQbbJ44_maaJcMVNGE/s320/DSC_0925.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509525426061670034" /></a><br />Korean Couples Wear<br />Guest blogger: mom/Joanne<br />Ladies: Does your man really love you? How do you know? Well if you lived in Korea it would be obvious; you would dress alike. Yes, I'm talking couple wear and it's big business here. Koreans are very orderly people and follow the rules of dating. At about date #7 the couple goes shopping together and thereafter look like grown-up brother-sister twins. It's super-cute and super-popular. Sometimes just a matching shirt, oftentimes right down to the pants and dare I mention – the skivvies. Yes, check out the photos. His & her underwear. Something tells me I will never get my man to do this for me. Guess I'll have to settle for roses!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMG_-FTSJ64RqEzfkJtv2oAb-9hRmpWOEk6ds4yiZ1VzPXq_Wioi4ZsSYOOa0ilAjYSfLIx_rjw6L1gvo8lhp7iOhaypbJ6ck0WJ7UKsUTn-wTnx3BXfxyl_OzpJ7s1bXwoKmm_IfXjvU/s1600/DSC_0922.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMG_-FTSJ64RqEzfkJtv2oAb-9hRmpWOEk6ds4yiZ1VzPXq_Wioi4ZsSYOOa0ilAjYSfLIx_rjw6L1gvo8lhp7iOhaypbJ6ck0WJ7UKsUTn-wTnx3BXfxyl_OzpJ7s1bXwoKmm_IfXjvU/s320/DSC_0922.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509525743165489234" /></a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-23330834593924661372010-08-23T23:41:00.004+09:002010-08-23T23:50:44.263+09:00Impressions of Korea<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ynvAkHze9IJfr5EX7UTubEhaAmj2e5mCfofIQIrvOKxxc6YeQtV_g-O_WV7svU_4eDG3n_KPrErpRFl2419J94v_p_iHEqQWVg6nvHcBiDfleB8l_wgxBVoVr7zr-4ws9jxd3ubHrc4/s1600/DSC_0961.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ynvAkHze9IJfr5EX7UTubEhaAmj2e5mCfofIQIrvOKxxc6YeQtV_g-O_WV7svU_4eDG3n_KPrErpRFl2419J94v_p_iHEqQWVg6nvHcBiDfleB8l_wgxBVoVr7zr-4ws9jxd3ubHrc4/s320/DSC_0961.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508617775000392210" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />By: Joanne/mom<br /><br /> I am not an adventurer. That would be my daughter Katie. Although I have traveled in the past, I much prefer to stay within the confines of the good ol' USA where I can read the street signs and order up a plain coffee at Starbucks. Much to my surprise – I can do both of those things here. Signs are in Korean and English and coffee is huge here – even more so than Portland. I expected tea served with every meal and cute tea houses on every corner but I suppose that would be Japan. Guess I really do need to get out more. Cute would not describe Korea. I'm not even sure that “scenic” is a good word. Yes, there is beauty here but I haven't seen it. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUpxkgcKwUSsOO2a2MXLlJ6h1uIkYfPoXkksd1QfxkV51G7xUpLsfisxVyqxDk1jmT5RRlUVIoszR92TpKm7Nrr_vU5zhhPpalOcO-kHUD1oFm4i8oCIV7k1gaMICCxqEF2pHccAQJzM/s1600/DSC_0918.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUpxkgcKwUSsOO2a2MXLlJ6h1uIkYfPoXkksd1QfxkV51G7xUpLsfisxVyqxDk1jmT5RRlUVIoszR92TpKm7Nrr_vU5zhhPpalOcO-kHUD1oFm4i8oCIV7k1gaMICCxqEF2pHccAQJzM/s320/DSC_0918.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508616223241957362" /></a> I am in Daegu, a bustling city that awakes in the evening hours when the weather cools and you can finally go out. The shopping centers both old-style markets with fresh fish, dried fish, chickens both alive and dead, textiles and socks, socks, socks and the newer malls with department stores, 3 storied coffee houses and best of all inexpensive plastic surgery centers where you can come out better-looking in an hour. What a country! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTEtI5rXEb4NTWVXVo7rMf8A5Kz7LRFlZqrp0TAvgDtpPZKmsK1sC9GWcUenAatxfTh8Oza-J-MsYaerDC0k1an_tFpxRmHh-xLoOw35y_YiUYqSDRM465UQ2cc8csNXYqftyvZznNYAA/s1600/DSC_0944.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTEtI5rXEb4NTWVXVo7rMf8A5Kz7LRFlZqrp0TAvgDtpPZKmsK1sC9GWcUenAatxfTh8Oza-J-MsYaerDC0k1an_tFpxRmHh-xLoOw35y_YiUYqSDRM465UQ2cc8csNXYqftyvZznNYAA/s320/DSC_0944.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508616607905811730" /></a> The people, although not overly friendly, are very helpful when asked for help and love trying out their English on me. As I walk along the streets here in Daegu I am the only Westerner. Once in a while I see a similar face and it's usually another English teacher here for a year. <br /> Katie has taken me to Seoul where we enjoyed a wonderful weekend that coincided with the 65th anniversary of Korean independence.. The highlight was an outdoor concert of Italian opera and a special version of their national anthem by a very old Korean rock guitarist (& obviously a legend judging from the applause he received). We enjoyed every minute.<br /> Let's see, I'll try to speed this up a bit. The food is o.k. Not my favorite cuisine. Korean beef barbecue is good; kimchi, not so much. And it is served with every meal. Yes, even breakfast.<br />Bullet train, subway and taxis are great. Passenger train is s-l-o-w. Bicyclists passed us.<br />Here is an interesting note: Recycling. Recycling is placed in a bag outside the door to your home or apartment. Sometime during the night or morning it is picked up by an old woman who places it in her cart as she moves up and down the street. I imagine there are many elderly who do this as it cannot possibly be the same woman – right? It is always gone the next day so the system works. Maybe I can start that when I retire. Hmm.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiSmlQTUV_mnsa5hRAS0aVZW8SgJJRIPNgwiRQkZxw4YDlFT-DPLHAFBuoanfNgmv3iqXdW-_fffyTy-a5-N5eLZ0VL6iDKOOuYapp5UgH-jcnsYKei1wNzs9pus7ktaqaHSMelENeQK4/s1600/DSC_0951.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiSmlQTUV_mnsa5hRAS0aVZW8SgJJRIPNgwiRQkZxw4YDlFT-DPLHAFBuoanfNgmv3iqXdW-_fffyTy-a5-N5eLZ0VL6iDKOOuYapp5UgH-jcnsYKei1wNzs9pus7ktaqaHSMelENeQK4/s320/DSC_0951.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508617522690872610" /></a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-64091504857661012702010-06-21T23:02:00.007+09:002010-06-21T23:47:50.271+09:00Elections<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTAKsD2cgY4QX0EAh7p_cOlf1OLihyphenhyphenOhCL29wNskXXMJLp_HwBSMCIR2Ss1Xv6cZmm5KDHiL2OttmkeVh9GWllgp_47oWTiCbmI9kOTooH4TPlPzevfBlMJym-86WiwpfaSwAuAS0gtQ/s1600/IMG_3430.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTAKsD2cgY4QX0EAh7p_cOlf1OLihyphenhyphenOhCL29wNskXXMJLp_HwBSMCIR2Ss1Xv6cZmm5KDHiL2OttmkeVh9GWllgp_47oWTiCbmI9kOTooH4TPlPzevfBlMJym-86WiwpfaSwAuAS0gtQ/s320/IMG_3430.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485237918851378066" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />About a month ago Daegu had its local elections. I had known this day was coming for months. Why? Because of the giant campaign banner that had hung on my building for the last six months. When it first went up I asked my youngest students what it was for. They told me it was for a man who had "no hair, now hair". I completely bought it. It wasn't until months later that I realized it was for city councilman. As election day drew nearer it became impossible to ignore. Trucks drove up and down all of the major and minor streets with blasting music and slogans complete with middle aged women dancing on the backs.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzLzZQLfBR2lG_DFuWycB0WgZ-FxJx_3lfrc_N7wJznrOMrUOkQs5CFj_70HeDhEVDhr-oyzPXaqkOF8d2kbMcHp-xh99GJlZ7uxT7NW-85jN5LpCOPvmyJhJI40lwpwMGoTmbz2ZEjr0/s1600/IMG_3432.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzLzZQLfBR2lG_DFuWycB0WgZ-FxJx_3lfrc_N7wJznrOMrUOkQs5CFj_70HeDhEVDhr-oyzPXaqkOF8d2kbMcHp-xh99GJlZ7uxT7NW-85jN5LpCOPvmyJhJI40lwpwMGoTmbz2ZEjr0/s320/IMG_3432.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485234828445409042" /></a><br />I have traveled to nine different countries and this ranks up there with strangest things I have ever seen. A small local election was being advertised around the clock. For two weeks I woke up to a woman shouting praises of some local joe. Childrens songs with words substituted for the candidates name, people riding on the backs of trucks dancing or bowing, it was strange. The candidates themselves would be walking around town with slashes with their face on it and the position they were running for. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidASdsSqVIaHcg_lawk5uyLa7a-4od_dx1cUQLMYGr7bxnOh8lEp0ltMcbGJ8_3S1HIsIUMAq7BWel5b3OkHc5WBt_ckNuq1B7g0y0EH3e45x5Agk5WtducSRj5Cz6OMvjRvFkQ92nGPo/s1600/IMG_3433.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidASdsSqVIaHcg_lawk5uyLa7a-4od_dx1cUQLMYGr7bxnOh8lEp0ltMcbGJ8_3S1HIsIUMAq7BWel5b3OkHc5WBt_ckNuq1B7g0y0EH3e45x5Agk5WtducSRj5Cz6OMvjRvFkQ92nGPo/s320/IMG_3433.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485235422243737762" /></a><br />It gets stranger. One day I was walking out of woke and I see the candidate on my building (no hair, hair). My friend and I attempt to talk with him and end up getting invited up to his base of operations. We can't say no. We are greeted by a small group of supporters who force feed us and dress us up in sashes for photo-ops. He invites us to his victory party the next night and once again, I can't say no. The man had put the picture up of us on his website (tagline- Park Sung Tae, The foreigners choice.) <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnsHkJMBu3xnRiE7Q-5uSh1XtuNk9zawt460uLvJxNPpX1RfTiprX_THb5Ux6Q02FawOyuzZhjtEqt-Zz-vvlNj8qDRwYUhvlQEeDn3VHNuLXSDqgyryqAlDvdp4NRoxPKsZbRnqxEzY/s1600/IMG_3480.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnsHkJMBu3xnRiE7Q-5uSh1XtuNk9zawt460uLvJxNPpX1RfTiprX_THb5Ux6Q02FawOyuzZhjtEqt-Zz-vvlNj8qDRwYUhvlQEeDn3VHNuLXSDqgyryqAlDvdp4NRoxPKsZbRnqxEzY/s320/IMG_3480.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485235577461065602" /></a><br /><br />The next night we returned. I must confess I had fantasies of a massive ritzy party or at least something hilarious happening. If you count awkward as hilarious then maybe it did happen. We were paraded around the room and it was clear Mr. Park liked to show off his foreign supporters. One man attempted to get us tipsy and a woman called her high school aged son over from across town to watch him speak english with me. We stayed two hours too long and escaped before we knew the official results. <br /><br />The next day the election was over (Mr. Park won) and the trucks were still out this time with the candidates bowing to the passersby to show their gratitude. I tried for weeks to get a video of the dancing women in matching shirts, visors and gloves but I never quite got it. <br /><br />But this guy did!<br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NVVzbez3WuI&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NVVzbez3WuI&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-72858194288372029862010-05-25T01:37:00.000+09:002010-05-25T01:38:52.007+09:00Buddha flies a Heliocopter? I stand enlightened.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0rTGtt2MRKWP-hwuu_uyhSfyjWzKr3XTvNrxtwFvaWopgEadUnM2HQ9PwaIdqBPbQ3WWeeAZ7xIyVlmUIPgwagGA9Ypkmovrhr6Tz_mxifPuEMuV44OLsU5rmc8Ghuuqvxdy1Qun3tuY/s1600/heliobuddha.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0rTGtt2MRKWP-hwuu_uyhSfyjWzKr3XTvNrxtwFvaWopgEadUnM2HQ9PwaIdqBPbQ3WWeeAZ7xIyVlmUIPgwagGA9Ypkmovrhr6Tz_mxifPuEMuV44OLsU5rmc8Ghuuqvxdy1Qun3tuY/s320/heliobuddha.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474876702636653746" /></a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-59691331355720565442010-05-23T16:12:00.009+09:002010-05-23T16:38:44.405+09:00Katie Update<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV3PtFurM8KRub8bBK1Z24LNkFFYLIix8zSpvfG7dqhdS-Rs2VmgTfpdazFRdWB1Nl9hQ2_1zBYMnnXH2NysJSvcgjlFoIum9F8KKlo-cYHGlOT59PwzEm6C0uV1kPOKp9n_tNRDzOOSY/s1600/IMG_3356.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV3PtFurM8KRub8bBK1Z24LNkFFYLIix8zSpvfG7dqhdS-Rs2VmgTfpdazFRdWB1Nl9hQ2_1zBYMnnXH2NysJSvcgjlFoIum9F8KKlo-cYHGlOT59PwzEm6C0uV1kPOKp9n_tNRDzOOSY/s320/IMG_3356.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474365416528876082" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Last weekend I went up to Seoul for Buddhas Birthday and Lantern Parade. I hadn't been up to Seoul in a few months and during this trip I went to the university district for the first time. Seoul is vibrant unique city that is easy to forget about in the massive suburb that is Daegu. Countless cute Coffee shop after wine bar after boutique show the common trends. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujXMQCWIv14zDxORZTs8obdZn86d3z4cArbXKty2z66KMSYJ6EwmNTnrbHe0AQMBSzq5tEu8FCYC9EMRnjOU1D-3QvTDs7THkZEUMQ-GiQKbbjj3l6AATmpFbaKNEjpe5FeyS8LHJ6A8/s1600/IMG_3358.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujXMQCWIv14zDxORZTs8obdZn86d3z4cArbXKty2z66KMSYJ6EwmNTnrbHe0AQMBSzq5tEu8FCYC9EMRnjOU1D-3QvTDs7THkZEUMQ-GiQKbbjj3l6AATmpFbaKNEjpe5FeyS8LHJ6A8/s320/IMG_3358.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474365563719107202" /></a><br />The lantern festival parade was on Sunday night (another great reason to start work at four). It was pure spectacle. It wasn't as beautiful as the Rose Parade(s) but I have never seen anything quite like it. First of all more people where in the parade than were watching it. Rows and rows of beautiful traditional Hanboks worn by people carrying hand painted lanterns. Large Buddhist congregations will chose representatives to march in the parade including my bosses mother. Along with the traditional music, art and dances where some modern floats. I loved the lanterns of the fire breathing dragons and graceful peacocks but my favorite was one of Buddha flying a helicopter. I hope to see more parades feature divinities with heavy ammunitions soon (Jesus in a Jet? Vishnu in a Tank?). I jest but it was quite bizarre to see monks pushing floats with kids dressed up as Buddha. Fake ears and all. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeESCMHPguaEQAKQSv5sUGtMVzFFrNm5M1rO0fucV4DJFOE8NmN5IJuo7rCxyX4clZQzrugVeEQRabxda8U3H6mK6_XpkNetz-PgFQwiRsxpMwRcwB8rP9QuXiDyC9wm_Vj6SBxd7Xl4/s1600/IMG_3374.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeESCMHPguaEQAKQSv5sUGtMVzFFrNm5M1rO0fucV4DJFOE8NmN5IJuo7rCxyX4clZQzrugVeEQRabxda8U3H6mK6_XpkNetz-PgFQwiRsxpMwRcwB8rP9QuXiDyC9wm_Vj6SBxd7Xl4/s320/IMG_3374.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474366226634935362" /></a><br /><br />The parade finished in three lengthy hours. I ran off to get a Starbucks in the middle of it, I have become my mother. After the parade, we scoured the streets for discarded lanterns and found the jackpot in Jogye-sa temple. I took them home via two subways, the bullet train and taxis. They now hang in my window and will hopefully give me luck for my second year in Korea.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsC55KvjMpNXvJEitqVg11jLOm80ttV6jCpyK8CLSfj9Q1sIjWtXYFnxpPLGXwCPFfczr-LY2nYApP2z8i_gXnhgoXAgSGRa-6swiJSWxtec1uvlZO5siz90qEjuDr0-6c3eU3WfwIQxg/s1600/IMG_3427.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsC55KvjMpNXvJEitqVg11jLOm80ttV6jCpyK8CLSfj9Q1sIjWtXYFnxpPLGXwCPFfczr-LY2nYApP2z8i_gXnhgoXAgSGRa-6swiJSWxtec1uvlZO5siz90qEjuDr0-6c3eU3WfwIQxg/s320/IMG_3427.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474365944169392178" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYf6LzgIUqobgum23X9-0VxEcCKDYbEg9zGHE87bm8gufrRKG-iKmlsjc8Hkz9eChz2gFd3TfLR6mZO6Y5Wzvqag2nWlhuVeaTiMesdkmP058V0-nXQVj9S9gFWDBtTWhsxdtcPT-OThc/s1600/kick.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYf6LzgIUqobgum23X9-0VxEcCKDYbEg9zGHE87bm8gufrRKG-iKmlsjc8Hkz9eChz2gFd3TfLR6mZO6Y5Wzvqag2nWlhuVeaTiMesdkmP058V0-nXQVj9S9gFWDBtTWhsxdtcPT-OThc/s320/kick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474362569832546738" /></a><br />In other major news I have finished my Ninja training and received my Black Belt in Hapkido. Tim, Brent and I have trained together for the past year and it was finally time to take the test. We had a crowd of seven watch us and our judge was, no joke, the dean of the bodyguard department at a local university. I was incredibly nervous, sweating bullets before I even began the test. I regretted asking all my friend to come and cheer me on. After all, it is not unusual to fail a black belt test. Even a old foreigner like myself had to hold up some standards. <br />The test started out with nine different kicking techniques. This part is not only the most exhausting part of the test but also the most difficult. I can't master the forms and although I can kick to eye level my master wants my kicks to be over my head. <br />The second part of the test is the twenty-one different self defense moves. Hapkido defense focuses on wrist locks. My self defense partner is six foot tall Tim. Not only do I have to restrain him and throw him over my back but he has to do the same to me. Being the “attacker” often involves having your face wiped through pools of sweat. My black belt test was no exception. <br />The next part of the test was two minute sparing rounds, falls, rolls and kicking apart a three cm board. Nunchucks were cancelled which was bad news for my bruise collection. <br /><br />I am now the proud owner of my black belt with my name embroidered on it, <br />키ㄹ크 캐이티<br />Best souvenir ever!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmLR6vi_M00p6DLGj8YMshliBjtvyFDO0UrJYEIQ_3BMtHqMLhRf-YNkJkVe9FbjYDBtnXbpucNQwBACkUDGg6O74gCQPQ1pSpNFVdx8y4tz1DG7eNAxVlcgfqn7DZB_rPjNGihmC2DQ/s1600/belt.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmLR6vi_M00p6DLGj8YMshliBjtvyFDO0UrJYEIQ_3BMtHqMLhRf-YNkJkVe9FbjYDBtnXbpucNQwBACkUDGg6O74gCQPQ1pSpNFVdx8y4tz1DG7eNAxVlcgfqn7DZB_rPjNGihmC2DQ/s320/belt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474363338187781554" /></a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-61978181919608390942010-04-08T11:23:00.015+09:002010-04-08T13:24:07.895+09:00Tokyo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMlYmp71BOpyUGmv64xKqmneL8hkreCTuXBaTQmZJuJirDjEjhKYuY9lbIwpIliTT5U4t3HgXAOL8MobrejGP6wYdgoJ6fbfpC-2E0KkvlKeR-3dU2EVlIp1NdDDV26rviRkXJe-sY1AM/s1600/IMG_2799.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMlYmp71BOpyUGmv64xKqmneL8hkreCTuXBaTQmZJuJirDjEjhKYuY9lbIwpIliTT5U4t3HgXAOL8MobrejGP6wYdgoJ6fbfpC-2E0KkvlKeR-3dU2EVlIp1NdDDV26rviRkXJe-sY1AM/s320/IMG_2799.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457611587340145554" border="0"></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Stephany was in the worlds largest metropolis for three days. I have a extra day and a half because I flew out later. Tokyo is a city of distinct districts so I have decided to write about these districts in groups instead of a day by day style.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtYPtWV8DO3-HXpOUSr0QXCxmwqhyphenhyphenD0aWk31Dg7K3ia62Dkm1kfjjrGVQ3OILoTa6TroMQZfFKtM2xm3VHplBV80OqV0LV9mqoj09zJHXq-nGLn3Ct6C9y7ua8PjlA4_R7H9K1lk9UxQ/s1600/IMG_2691.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtYPtWV8DO3-HXpOUSr0QXCxmwqhyphenhyphenD0aWk31Dg7K3ia62Dkm1kfjjrGVQ3OILoTa6TroMQZfFKtM2xm3VHplBV80OqV0LV9mqoj09zJHXq-nGLn3Ct6C9y7ua8PjlA4_R7H9K1lk9UxQ/s320/IMG_2691.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457609290461463234" border="0"></a><br />Asakusa<br />This is the district where we spent the nights. It is built around the Sumida rive, which was the only body of water I saw during our stay. It's very easy to forget that Tokyo is a port city. Asakusa is famous for its Shinto/Buddhist shrine Senso-ji. Stephany and I wandered into Senso-ji during some late night exploring. We had the shrine completely to ourselves and we were able to take some great pictures that would have been impossible in the daytime tourist crowd (they are all on Stephany's camera).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlL1ZiwruZnW0NnhLhD40kYEnh96m4m-6Ej2xT3_cqOmO1EhjInFy9kaFYBWaHs1r3DCmnyniJIqv-ZgEIxbnEbir0_Eg05xD9hwkiiZK80_0dCgcJDa8dSjQwqDxu5p0eCMObchkRz8/s1600/IMG_2723.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlL1ZiwruZnW0NnhLhD40kYEnh96m4m-6Ej2xT3_cqOmO1EhjInFy9kaFYBWaHs1r3DCmnyniJIqv-ZgEIxbnEbir0_Eg05xD9hwkiiZK80_0dCgcJDa8dSjQwqDxu5p0eCMObchkRz8/s320/IMG_2723.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457608979906654882" border="0"></a><br /><br /><br />Kappabashi-Dori<br />This is a street located within Asakusa district. Stephany and I followed the guide book there thinking its was a large store that sold fake food (buying one being side quest of mine) instead we were pleased to discover an entire street selling everything imaginable. Giant mascots to place in front of your restaurant, signs, banners, teapots, accessories for a American themed diner and of course fake food. These miniature works of art aren't cheap and we oohed and aahed over gems like "Donut on the Gold Chain" and "Floating Fork with Spaghetti." After lengthy consideration I walked away with a prefectly replicated bite of steak on a key chain. Money well spent.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMU4KIAgZm6Be26qH5KSbYwtZOzvRHgTptGTLMicojW5jl2OwqFhX0XdGiHbItiOOxQ8BA6CFVNhO65NbYnbFfJHvFIDyO_LzX6Be_Wxe3DPmiGkx4EPXl3wChnqWAHVxQ_qUgl7BaT_I/s1600/IMG_2740.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMU4KIAgZm6Be26qH5KSbYwtZOzvRHgTptGTLMicojW5jl2OwqFhX0XdGiHbItiOOxQ8BA6CFVNhO65NbYnbFfJHvFIDyO_LzX6Be_Wxe3DPmiGkx4EPXl3wChnqWAHVxQ_qUgl7BaT_I/s320/IMG_2740.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457608755457032850" border="0"></a><br /><br /><br />Shibuya<br />Home to the worlds busiest pedestrian intersection, Shibuya is a shoppers dream. Or in my case nightmare, as I was too cheap to by anything. We took in the sights and sounds of Tokyo's high and low brow shopping. There was one store that ranked all the products sold in Japan (in very small categories like face mask or stationary set) and then sold the top three in its store. The entire store changes every week so the Japanese school girl doesn't embarrass herself by wearing last weeks lip gloss. Shibuya is also home to a quality skewers restaurant were we sampled everything from basic yakitori to lotus root.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfe-HUel9QaLhW_eb2fh6Ho6gOCCLQerENwhd0pJru0mF0NzDHegGSwA_QGYFAKIP9VYnXnRBYbpPUrUOQhFNHAXTMY5NvcFDoH6C6Aulu4ZDF324_0oHNfnaH33Pg2iTBaZSjBen5T8/s1600/IMG_2751.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfe-HUel9QaLhW_eb2fh6Ho6gOCCLQerENwhd0pJru0mF0NzDHegGSwA_QGYFAKIP9VYnXnRBYbpPUrUOQhFNHAXTMY5NvcFDoH6C6Aulu4ZDF324_0oHNfnaH33Pg2iTBaZSjBen5T8/s320/IMG_2751.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457609685157718034" border="0"></a><br />Harajuku<br />We spent a huge chunk of time in Harajuku returning day after day. Stephany and I never spied the classic "harajuku girl" in her Gothic Lolita wear and if we did it was often westerners playing dress up. Harajuku is home to small unique shops. It reminded me a bit of 23rd st. at home except cheaper and a bit more trendy. Stephany even bought her own Loita dress here among the row and rows of the super floofy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWiWC3q8tzgvFrajfZ-9E6PMxur7iQpvDrsTMp8DXv7MeS1Q0KCAcQx-ttMDnbnmeh5pg-X6S-OKVKFLRkXXgWr6_mF_UOI3awyHYYJq_2Z5PvCOJVcm5l8WH_gMZG0OTElm9B6oTXtQ/s1600/IMG_2771.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWiWC3q8tzgvFrajfZ-9E6PMxur7iQpvDrsTMp8DXv7MeS1Q0KCAcQx-ttMDnbnmeh5pg-X6S-OKVKFLRkXXgWr6_mF_UOI3awyHYYJq_2Z5PvCOJVcm5l8WH_gMZG0OTElm9B6oTXtQ/s320/IMG_2771.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457609976967919970" border="0"></a><br /><br />Akihabara<br />It seems that I was the only one in town who didn't know about this place. A thriving electronics market, Akihabara is also home to the strangest Japan has to ofter. Maid Cafes are a dime a dozen here as are stores selling pornographic comic books and figurines. Akihabara is the core of the strange counter-culture of Anime that has spread throughout the world. Stephany and I had a great time poking around, shopping for vintage video games and playing in the arcades. The arcades are a attraction in themselves. They are six of more levels of joystick pushing action. One of the floors is for picture booths. Stephany and I took our picture only to discover that its had automatically whitened our skin and magnified our eyes. Yes, we do look like aliens. The bottom floor is devoted to claw machines wear 100 yen buys you one shot at toys, movies, porn, live jellyfish and salamanders or cigarettes. As strange as this counter-culture is, it was a relief to see. I am still attempting to find some deviance in Korea.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibDbcaOSlockvK__YIJiEwpNzDGoLer4utvXaTxSYw53nUHuiZs7UDm1N7XxoO7MJl0hqLTxq0-pPUD_gW-BfFYtrMSrJx8NJoV4ds8DN8gc13evPzrQKFZAXmD0f6oY2M1duwl7yyFeo/s1600/IMG_2717.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibDbcaOSlockvK__YIJiEwpNzDGoLer4utvXaTxSYw53nUHuiZs7UDm1N7XxoO7MJl0hqLTxq0-pPUD_gW-BfFYtrMSrJx8NJoV4ds8DN8gc13evPzrQKFZAXmD0f6oY2M1duwl7yyFeo/s320/IMG_2717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457610212204131522" border="0"></a><br /><br />Kichijoji<br />For anyone who cares this is were I am planning on moving to. As soon as I learn Japanese and find a local job that is. Kichijori is a neighborhood a half hour train ride out of central Tokyo. Stephany and I came here because we had tickets to see the Ghibi Museum (for a Japanese animation studio). The museum was clever and whimsical. It was great fun tracking down all of the signatures, sketches and picture of my favorite Pixar artists as they are fans of Ghibi and often come visit.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0K8jsHXbgvW_CH5b54tvY3w3z23r_Ynv62lzgZhIXby7rBQdif_AnZC8NlY8YgEgxS9L1RlQiqVkSCFXae-mb9ZSfs8rnB9jupYgGkFZoYo3RNu9pwF1nadzWjqkKV4C9hEhb80VM9Q/s1600/IMG_2706.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0K8jsHXbgvW_CH5b54tvY3w3z23r_Ynv62lzgZhIXby7rBQdif_AnZC8NlY8YgEgxS9L1RlQiqVkSCFXae-mb9ZSfs8rnB9jupYgGkFZoYo3RNu9pwF1nadzWjqkKV4C9hEhb80VM9Q/s320/IMG_2706.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457610504746798290" border="0"></a><br /><br />What stole the show for me however, is the neighborhood. Quaint shops, tree lined streets and a large park with a lake. How could this fresh example of suburbia be so close to the largest city in the world? And further more how can I move there?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBr2pT9yvqA2InNKTtMsz7cg5M-Dxf0D2zhUgdq4ycO-sCWrGcL25oA_kvt_Ji0ZFWRyj4MlJqIOBnCvFaTeLGnAYPR_OUjHInXlAOAgQRLBH0-vEVO8Hs5F5btbJuu4MbhA-2sJNkV6A/s1600/IMG_2701.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBr2pT9yvqA2InNKTtMsz7cg5M-Dxf0D2zhUgdq4ycO-sCWrGcL25oA_kvt_Ji0ZFWRyj4MlJqIOBnCvFaTeLGnAYPR_OUjHInXlAOAgQRLBH0-vEVO8Hs5F5btbJuu4MbhA-2sJNkV6A/s320/IMG_2701.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457610799864072482" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVU6V5ySQf0hLrPECr5uZSHJad8g6rj6ftvEy-K1tGnDKBc2VE0Nt7h4uRGR47q9TRaQM9OAJYJ30HeaOnn3vT29-p9NQSfk3oZdOEWZBw1PUD5qo0RxdGq6fxtt48zm_jkzg-sxopq0/s1600/IMG_2696.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVU6V5ySQf0hLrPECr5uZSHJad8g6rj6ftvEy-K1tGnDKBc2VE0Nt7h4uRGR47q9TRaQM9OAJYJ30HeaOnn3vT29-p9NQSfk3oZdOEWZBw1PUD5qo0RxdGq6fxtt48zm_jkzg-sxopq0/s320/IMG_2696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457610989668354786" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4EEJxR2mSIbyAAjZjlk7N_IwLcD9YrFo-bR7zGc4SfrSVDUAhMzz-VSUNN7tybSxER94mfp0-jTulUhjWGrxwQd1awbhk6BLka_DxewaF5kxEwOvIkS7LKggHt3qfotBlx6Q65xrTG00/s1600/IMG_2698.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4EEJxR2mSIbyAAjZjlk7N_IwLcD9YrFo-bR7zGc4SfrSVDUAhMzz-VSUNN7tybSxER94mfp0-jTulUhjWGrxwQd1awbhk6BLka_DxewaF5kxEwOvIkS7LKggHt3qfotBlx6Q65xrTG00/s320/IMG_2698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457611309518621474" border="0"></a><br /><br />I love Tokyo and I apologize for only writing about snippets of our adventures. I really must rush because my flight for Beijing leaves in 48 hours and I still need to pack. Let me leave you with this.<br /><br /><br />Ladies and Gentlemen, the famous rockabillies of Yoyogi Park<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitH_I6_TCGy_BnUw4jIkHUMlw-4MJSM52KTBSv9S255hnFDb6pPW9fOjM_j4GeEhEY_ADKHYtRPmE45Xo7KTwzie5uPr4KchvOSCkPEgw-EiLvvZNJ_PtpgBIbR4N6Uqv23hgZBwKw1gw/s1600/IMG_2873.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitH_I6_TCGy_BnUw4jIkHUMlw-4MJSM52KTBSv9S255hnFDb6pPW9fOjM_j4GeEhEY_ADKHYtRPmE45Xo7KTwzie5uPr4KchvOSCkPEgw-EiLvvZNJ_PtpgBIbR4N6Uqv23hgZBwKw1gw/s320/IMG_2873.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457617013208457954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhra8qJPNonlw0gzq3F5W8AcUZUh-4kObjRzesbbBuwfAkmTUByLhSP-xJj4nKlp9TsYKeg7IYGhUVmNw0Znl0Od4guImlojPalrvmTvopJA7sROwDtfemS_4XC_pwnR2MkY61zEn6ttnM/s1600/IMG_2830.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhra8qJPNonlw0gzq3F5W8AcUZUh-4kObjRzesbbBuwfAkmTUByLhSP-xJj4nKlp9TsYKeg7IYGhUVmNw0Znl0Od4guImlojPalrvmTvopJA7sROwDtfemS_4XC_pwnR2MkY61zEn6ttnM/s320/IMG_2830.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457617003037215266" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75amalRgl7fXAVeI7vdhtsw6ZVvPqOwmHnC1bQR1T4x9l_BdCSxmZhbTAE3OfidYQOz-8l2CBMUoalHDNYraTMbti5WYTUTQHCQ674Z3iM5u1_TdW1_xNPtYFddjm-H80MFYnnaARZjw/s1600/IMG_2814.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75amalRgl7fXAVeI7vdhtsw6ZVvPqOwmHnC1bQR1T4x9l_BdCSxmZhbTAE3OfidYQOz-8l2CBMUoalHDNYraTMbti5WYTUTQHCQ674Z3iM5u1_TdW1_xNPtYFddjm-H80MFYnnaARZjw/s320/IMG_2814.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457616992609578162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcQiPjOwjtPJGA97HNFiLpkhpLFfkn4nmdPTQalCpqeSj-yxh5VnQeStAdJq2tYUq97o06zrJoV0Zge5Em97TJtuvV9mJ5Xbx-4pOHnOEERvdZnLHKdCf2tHwGIRorA07LtkUbUfkkck/s1600/IMG_2855.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcQiPjOwjtPJGA97HNFiLpkhpLFfkn4nmdPTQalCpqeSj-yxh5VnQeStAdJq2tYUq97o06zrJoV0Zge5Em97TJtuvV9mJ5Xbx-4pOHnOEERvdZnLHKdCf2tHwGIRorA07LtkUbUfkkck/s320/IMG_2855.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457616986127874898" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSUe8He_UL6j5SYPM8FLDeg00a9Sm8iX3-2vUkxTFIhEC4DXuLes3hoLBQBAc3VzsWheYpna5DZMw5iZ_UysVOtWFDbxxkl04H9FI4cc5gj4Ae785o6tuwjmdD0Qt0Z5mC6WGO5WiHtgs/s1600/IMG_2865.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSUe8He_UL6j5SYPM8FLDeg00a9Sm8iX3-2vUkxTFIhEC4DXuLes3hoLBQBAc3VzsWheYpna5DZMw5iZ_UysVOtWFDbxxkl04H9FI4cc5gj4Ae785o6tuwjmdD0Qt0Z5mC6WGO5WiHtgs/s320/IMG_2865.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457616974616357762" /></a><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GwcaQ3qJ88U&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GwcaQ3qJ88U&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-68059405401795113932010-04-06T11:53:00.014+09:002010-04-06T13:38:15.899+09:00Kakegawa and Nara<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8XAPRp5SQCgOqkw5lEUvC01mNfgG4jSgGq6Da90XYQdgG8MvfVQZem6i5CBy-gvHYIlVOr3OAOBCC5WG52gy4fszz5UG6Sll09IBMBiMUKnb4U6AzhhKs7DEg_yD0SegyCdeY28DZF8/s1600/IMG_2637.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8XAPRp5SQCgOqkw5lEUvC01mNfgG4jSgGq6Da90XYQdgG8MvfVQZem6i5CBy-gvHYIlVOr3OAOBCC5WG52gy4fszz5UG6Sll09IBMBiMUKnb4U6AzhhKs7DEg_yD0SegyCdeY28DZF8/s320/IMG_2637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456878191488830402" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The Kalks and Urhausens are a adventurous bunch, including my cousin Nikki who is teaching in Kakegawa. Stephany and I stayed with her one night in the midst of a torrential storm. The weather kept us from exploring much of the town. Instead Nikki introduced me to my two new favorite foods sake in a juice box and sakura mochi (pink sweet rice wrapped in a cherry tree leaf). Nikki works for Aeon and is lucky enough to teach adults and kids. The demand to learn English is much lower in Japan than in Korea. Nikki's Aeon was the only language school in her adorable town. Despite Kakegawa having fewer foreigners than in Daegu, the locals were nonplussed about Stephany and I hoofing around. Oh and by the way, if your ever in the mood for a macaroon the best ones are in Kakegawa. A bold statement I stand by.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisudAYWx09RllQPrCqKL-jrmzqv6KX-iXS0YPBevhqhyNrB84HRHqzDX7GqB5jZKSEkHCLrWIMe6kAmskg7We60mejuAP6X5-y5NjwP9BtQNW2TjIXDL7uPxId4T77ug6r8W9eBZMTLlI/s1600/Spring.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisudAYWx09RllQPrCqKL-jrmzqv6KX-iXS0YPBevhqhyNrB84HRHqzDX7GqB5jZKSEkHCLrWIMe6kAmskg7We60mejuAP6X5-y5NjwP9BtQNW2TjIXDL7uPxId4T77ug6r8W9eBZMTLlI/s320/Spring.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456871318143371586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After our overnight we were off to Nara. The capital of Japan for a brief period in the 700's, Nara ranks up with Kyoto in terms of Japanese history. We had a good deal of back tracking to do in order to see Nara and I want to thank Stephany for putting up with me, as I was determined to see the city. The main reason I wanted to see Nara was Todai-ji (remember ji= Zen Buddhist temple). The worlds largest wooden building, Todai-ji is one of the Japan's iconic buildings. It was originally built in 728 and suffered through several fires. The current building was finished in 1709 and is 30% smaller than the original. Inside sits the Daibutsu, a 50 foot bronze Buddha. I wish the weather would have been nicer that day as I wanted to see more of details engraved on the bronze. However the lack of interior lighting creates a feeling that the line between earth and the divine is being blurred. This "smudging"of mundane reality is the reason that when I travel my favorite thing to see is holy places whether they are shrines, temples, mosques or cathedrals.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfLuMsHg7DUgZWXyUjf1sOlGQa_Mi3zLimAc8kVL9WA3h9OjXoVi0WXCdrBW0jD1W8_zPhJVDEIPpZq8kw30pOj11ZPVkwwWrWNHHUprE2el7CDQ9-l8qpIggb-6ElXPQC94I4kpjWQw/s1600/IMG_2665.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfLuMsHg7DUgZWXyUjf1sOlGQa_Mi3zLimAc8kVL9WA3h9OjXoVi0WXCdrBW0jD1W8_zPhJVDEIPpZq8kw30pOj11ZPVkwwWrWNHHUprE2el7CDQ9-l8qpIggb-6ElXPQC94I4kpjWQw/s320/IMG_2665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456876051416221874" border="0" /></a><br />In one of the pillars in Todai-ji has a large hole exactly the same size as one of Daibutsu's nostrils. Lore says that if you can crawl through the hole you will achieve enlightenment in your next life. I dared Stephany to squeeze through the pillar and she did! She had a large audience of school boys on a field trip. I started to chant "nice shot, nice shot" (a famous english phrase thanks to video games) and soon enough everyone joined in. This rush of dorky adrenaline has to be one of my favorite memories from the trip. The silliness in the temple was not out of place in the country where Hello Kitty sits on Buddha's lap.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyI-cboARrxBV2m2GkD6dGB-he1x6EGt0s8AfLbCxvYv-RMWx7IKz4Cqzw71e0c7vDHDTVr8MTOQ9Jxvq0UBo-azYDxVEdmcNb10ZeCZVyPN-9VYf6ZxJHWeTAQ3Q47X0FCFWwwDxYyXg/s1600/IMG_2678.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyI-cboARrxBV2m2GkD6dGB-he1x6EGt0s8AfLbCxvYv-RMWx7IKz4Cqzw71e0c7vDHDTVr8MTOQ9Jxvq0UBo-azYDxVEdmcNb10ZeCZVyPN-9VYf6ZxJHWeTAQ3Q47X0FCFWwwDxYyXg/s320/IMG_2678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456876529585265794" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdrs2AaKQWu3zigxoXIlm4GkM-2Rv_5WZM-MkXlwHlrHjlAZ3TTqX-OHKd9P5jNot9852zfCQaWgb8GA9weKUVHE7OS0FkR0tNwcbq15PNd3zKQ1AnJcl0w-eLpmGJ2_9yBfzdz3CDqI/s1600/IMG_2680.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdrs2AaKQWu3zigxoXIlm4GkM-2Rv_5WZM-MkXlwHlrHjlAZ3TTqX-OHKd9P5jNot9852zfCQaWgb8GA9weKUVHE7OS0FkR0tNwcbq15PNd3zKQ1AnJcl0w-eLpmGJ2_9yBfzdz3CDqI/s320/IMG_2680.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456876725964961474" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuhkVM7-o0zHNE5bw67eCdpGbJWhhDCgjIgzBc3PPmHKJyaADMTwcJ1RYEnbjp-eiPmAgzo1Kkk6HeGrI5koQDXpt0tn-YufpcTHj6Weuu0noUgsikJzWazxKNl7hZOuM9fy23a70l_ZQ/s1600/IMG_2681.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuhkVM7-o0zHNE5bw67eCdpGbJWhhDCgjIgzBc3PPmHKJyaADMTwcJ1RYEnbjp-eiPmAgzo1Kkk6HeGrI5koQDXpt0tn-YufpcTHj6Weuu0noUgsikJzWazxKNl7hZOuM9fy23a70l_ZQ/s320/IMG_2681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456876886857754482" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Nara is also famous for its tame deer who are a religious symbol in both Buddhism and Shintoism. The deer are tame until the second you buy a deer biscuit from the vendor. After which, they will jump up on you like a dog standing on its hind legs to get a treat. I created the challenge to see who could get the best party pic (you hold out the camera with one arm and take your own picture) with a deer. The other tourists must have believed that we had gone off of the deep end as we ran around putting one arm over the deer and taking picture of ourselves. Not quite the proper way to treat the messengers of the Kami. Sorry Nara deer....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizreE4JH6sEFncVdD8lvIpRvgQr0CiU-sEB5rZ7Z1RMPqClf_g2vQ20UXUoiFGu6XFD6o3k7t687CFPEXvNOcZiwsrZMbKpkYNS-M_H7GXzTeyFori3qK3T9NbZ1W349r_Syj5wgMaSYs/s1600/IMG_2657.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizreE4JH6sEFncVdD8lvIpRvgQr0CiU-sEB5rZ7Z1RMPqClf_g2vQ20UXUoiFGu6XFD6o3k7t687CFPEXvNOcZiwsrZMbKpkYNS-M_H7GXzTeyFori3qK3T9NbZ1W349r_Syj5wgMaSYs/s320/IMG_2657.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456877216355043458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicwD4hcD4bnD35YimOgubVQvNDyr3XChzGescxRa3RJrxFbln4-OqYYi663LW2Zi3_0xEF5Mr5SP-ylguUbEl7QCE8Mu1RDLWfNTavubI5_hITQrBmsIlWipcZ4qR0HixncoYhe-ZCLs/s1600/IMG_2654.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicwD4hcD4bnD35YimOgubVQvNDyr3XChzGescxRa3RJrxFbln4-OqYYi663LW2Zi3_0xEF5Mr5SP-ylguUbEl7QCE8Mu1RDLWfNTavubI5_hITQrBmsIlWipcZ4qR0HixncoYhe-ZCLs/s320/IMG_2654.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456877453138222258" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After a long day of traveling we returned to the bullet train station and begin the journey to our final destination, TOKYO!Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-90537341640978809582010-03-22T22:49:00.002+09:002010-03-28T13:50:01.761+09:00Of Toris and Bath HousesOur second day in Kyoto surrounded us with classic Japanese imagery. I felt like I had stepped into Miyzaki's film Spirited Away. First by visiting the central Inari Shrine in Japan, wandering a bamboo forest and then soaking in a bathhouse. All in the pouring rain.<br /><br />Stephany and I took the train to Fushimi Inari-taisha after a ill conceived attempt to start the day with a bath at the bathhouse (it opens at three). The Shinto shrine is famous for its numerous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torii">Torii</a> gates. The Torii is a bright orange gate used to mark the entrance of a holy place. The Shrine we were visiting is devoted to Inari, the deity of financial success. Each Torii in the shrine is donated by a business, which answers our question of "why do some gates look brand new while others are falling apart?'. It also give us a clue of what was written on the back of each Torii.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy3wiVjxauh6duI8OlvIA4-50Ds6Ak7ZgVIAPlKVj8_pzg9xWWDGlTCCYNRy0N_CMNhu7nnJhxz0626Akr4VtFp5zbZgAY1DZZ0Np9vuthonAayYHNRvaFnJxqSkZsRtRA1SmZjLzga4M/s1600/IMG_2592.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy3wiVjxauh6duI8OlvIA4-50Ds6Ak7ZgVIAPlKVj8_pzg9xWWDGlTCCYNRy0N_CMNhu7nnJhxz0626Akr4VtFp5zbZgAY1DZZ0Np9vuthonAayYHNRvaFnJxqSkZsRtRA1SmZjLzga4M/s320/IMG_2592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452439508646671362" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The numerous Torii that were flanked by fox guardian spirits. The grounds of the shrine continue endlessly up the mountain and the site was littered with thousands of shines for private worship. Like this one patronized by shrine kitty.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TyU-buUQQI7OmMqugGmD9tghgzblPUnhLPQnPMrXRM1KUDjJcvjyabcPjHyUFs9hu37SWcGTix-0rVn5b5WwMCtgCUDaU6XFhX8J5Hl1fqwu2Zods9J2pLhwzyEtQsTHbSpxhziOIw8/s1600/IMG_2602.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TyU-buUQQI7OmMqugGmD9tghgzblPUnhLPQnPMrXRM1KUDjJcvjyabcPjHyUFs9hu37SWcGTix-0rVn5b5WwMCtgCUDaU6XFhX8J5Hl1fqwu2Zods9J2pLhwzyEtQsTHbSpxhziOIw8/s320/IMG_2602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452447674376369554" border="0" /></a><br /><br />At some point in our adventures we decided that we had time for one more summit. We looked at the map on the way up and concluded that it should only take fifteen more minutes to reach the summit. Rule number one of this trip- traveling of any kind never goes as planned. We made it to the group of shrines on the peak of the mountain and than had the brilliant idea of taking a Torii-less shortcut back down.<br /><br />We wandered down the path beyond the main shrine, past peoples homes and trough small family shrines. I was never too worried as we were never to far from a road or a home. I knew that we were safe from spending the night on the hill top but finding the train station again was a different story. We wandered in the rain though a breathtaking bamboo forest. It must have been for farming as the feeling of being shrunken Alice would be swapped with towering over the clear cutting. I have yet to see bamboo in Korea and the trip through the forest reminded me again that I was in my dream Asia.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVpVuTjSlhm9otxh-JDaZf-ZjrgykeeAayndVFOY1_NEOkvRzqACsvWi8ebVuORVSq9UTiWxbuWh3w3fdczYfoy5NeL6OWeRM13CbYlbAA-4EK1xzheo2cZ5LUnUrgCsU5mBJOCvahvY/s1600/IMG_2619.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVpVuTjSlhm9otxh-JDaZf-ZjrgykeeAayndVFOY1_NEOkvRzqACsvWi8ebVuORVSq9UTiWxbuWh3w3fdczYfoy5NeL6OWeRM13CbYlbAA-4EK1xzheo2cZ5LUnUrgCsU5mBJOCvahvY/s320/IMG_2619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453529932319474802" border="0" /></a><br /><br />At on point we turned a corner and discovered a small shrine with hundreds of strands of paper cranes. In the corner of the shrine was a carving of a Buddha about 18 inches tall. It had a washed out note card in English describing it as a "heavy-light stone". If you make a wish and then guess if the stone will be heavy or light, the Buddha will change its weight to grant it. By now we had been lost for over two hours and I wished that we could find the main entrance within the next ten minutes. I then guessed that the stone was heavy and just about pulled my arms out of their sockets haphazardly picking it up. Leaving the small shrine behind we stumbled right into the inner-shrine at the heart of Inrari. Thanks heavy-light stone!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZkvDFaCQduIlSvr9L8ItwJrguFE7tIXxTQU_12Sfofl_TL-O1yMmXFNZ-8w7ZOkpKoWILsS1w0GxLcJW1WdHGc3HLXR85a1HqpudxrTBf9F3Ai6w14_UZ7NNgAnCgvpj_sRLWgcZ55QM/s1600/IMG_2621.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZkvDFaCQduIlSvr9L8ItwJrguFE7tIXxTQU_12Sfofl_TL-O1yMmXFNZ-8w7ZOkpKoWILsS1w0GxLcJW1WdHGc3HLXR85a1HqpudxrTBf9F3Ai6w14_UZ7NNgAnCgvpj_sRLWgcZ55QM/s320/IMG_2621.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453532489537304754" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Next up on our Spirited Away adventure. <a href="http://www.geocities.co.jp/SilkRoad-Desert/6711/">Funaoka Onsen</a>, a classic Yubabba style bathhouse. Kyoto has no local thermal hot springs so we were unable to experience the classic Onsen experience. Steph and I still wanted to give the public bath a try, did a little research and found Funaoka. The onsen is one of the few remaining from the 1920's and it has retained its original wood carvings that strangely enough depict the Chinese invading Manchuria. I have gone to many public houses in Korea and I forgot how awkward the first time dropping trow and "hot tubbing" nude can be. It was no issue as Stephany did fantastic at all cultural challenges Japan threw at her. The Onsen has indoor and outdoor pools. The outdoor bamboo pool was the most pleasant but strangely I kept going back for more time in the electric pool. There is a reason my body was buzzing, they run a weak current in the water. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_S5QoCozu_WXgaMoYfV-ESBQjW2QIQFRCKY4dhmjJkM9IUtjOj7m0-BabF3fXx1z49q4n1NcNX920TbB1sZTtyBNBp-mfJL-9KEr6x4f4GumTous9T2rKhepT5lIg3BcoJ_l7xOKNVw/s1600/IMG_2578.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_S5QoCozu_WXgaMoYfV-ESBQjW2QIQFRCKY4dhmjJkM9IUtjOj7m0-BabF3fXx1z49q4n1NcNX920TbB1sZTtyBNBp-mfJL-9KEr6x4f4GumTous9T2rKhepT5lIg3BcoJ_l7xOKNVw/s320/IMG_2578.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453540578441861490" border="0" /></a><br />The dip in a classic Onsen was the prefect way to warm up after a long hike in the rain.<br /><br /><br />Next up- Our visit with Nikki with a Saki in a juice box AND Nara- Tame deer, wild schoolboys.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-1636249167021734622010-03-21T19:50:00.007+09:002010-03-21T22:12:18.041+09:00KyotoA theme to our trip to Japan seems to be traveling. I am willing to wager that Stephany and I spent equal amounts of time on trains, buses and subways as we did sightseeing or exploring.<br /><br />Eventually Stephany and I did make it to Kinkaku-ji. The famous golden Zen Buddhist temple is as synonymous with Kyoto as the geisha. Kinkaku-ji (Ji means Buddhist temple) was built in 1393 as a retirement villa and then converted into a temple. The original building was much less ornate than what we saw as the original burnt down in 1955 and the gold leaf has recently been replaced. You don't see the temple until you round the corner waking me to the fact that I was really in Japan.<br /><br />I can't say this enough. I love Japan.<br /><br />Japan is very different than Korea. The mythical East Asia of my dreams lives on strong within Japan. The towns are diverse architecturally and the people have fascinating differences in fashion. Also many people commute on bike and strangely enough Kyoto reminded me of Amsterdam. Japan was a lovely break from the stares and faceless housing blocks of Korea.<br /><br />After Kinkaku-ju, Stephany and I found our way back into the central part of Kyoto and decided to wander with temple intent. Its impossible not to find temples in Kyoto and stumbled into a Shinto Shrine and a massive Zen Buddhist temple.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFD5LdL8eor2NmWN9weDN2b6n-XxPCBW0gu_4943bHEmAyWQJBeiRwZ0H68ztgiNDneivScLc_xvOgRrKQuc3tZfcZQdQ9X6kHVJJiK53s60nhwysXF2T3lub92zenVgykPWKd1st7wg/s1600-h/IMG_2512.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFD5LdL8eor2NmWN9weDN2b6n-XxPCBW0gu_4943bHEmAyWQJBeiRwZ0H68ztgiNDneivScLc_xvOgRrKQuc3tZfcZQdQ9X6kHVJJiK53s60nhwysXF2T3lub92zenVgykPWKd1st7wg/s320/IMG_2512.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451052053632419714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Many Japanese would describe themselves as both Buddhist and Shinto. Shinto tends to be the religion of choice for life and Buddhism for after death. Shinto is a purely Japanese religion based on the worship of Kami spirits who are found in all living and natural things. While 90% of Japanese take part in shrine ceremonies only 30% are considered to ascribe to the faith system. Stephany is standing in front of a Shinto shrine in the picture. They have distinctive orange Tori gates and often a brighter color scheme. Yet it is difficult to tell the two apart at a glace as Buddhism and Shintoism are so connected many temples are templeshrines with the symbolism and traditions of both religions.<br /><br />Kyoto has over 1600 Shrine and Temples. We had no specific plans to visit temples outside of the Golden One so I felt very lucky that our wanders took us to Mii-dera. Founded in 672 this Buddhist temple is one of the four largest in Japan. The site of much turmoil and warfare the temple was burned to the ground in three major wars before finally being rebuilt in 1599. Its sprawling grounds are prefect for two sisters with a knack for stumbling off the beaten track. Along with the main halls, we explored the bell tower and the graveyard. I will always remember the emotions of standing in that empty graveyard with the rustling sounds of the sotobas in the wind (sticks meant to represent stupas left at grave site). It was a moment that made me reflect on how blessed I am to be traveling yet again.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJeWKeekn9Mst1675zjAbqBrm01Lkel4XJOj5nmiA5PSbiI8-7OG8v7pWygDMZwYVjuCuf-DWCWaSMDMzzFYNxv92o1PzofyICiVtEPPJi938bOjdbEaT1X7Lz-flh_F_IDl2Qtz8aco/s1600-h/IMG_2533.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJeWKeekn9Mst1675zjAbqBrm01Lkel4XJOj5nmiA5PSbiI8-7OG8v7pWygDMZwYVjuCuf-DWCWaSMDMzzFYNxv92o1PzofyICiVtEPPJi938bOjdbEaT1X7Lz-flh_F_IDl2Qtz8aco/s320/IMG_2533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451063323494016802" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We also traversed a bit up the mountain to find a small fresh water spring dedicated to Jizo the guardian of children who die before their parents. Statues of Jizo are often decorated with red bibs.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYsKPcBEoaFabtIvgtUxr0D4fvBFj1gULAmfjMxtVfUhFc7nraRBPgu3ZegaTcvwuDRUaST0XisYw62kJHMS6j_K2KdJFZc6u2af6mBDC2CdKDZWPkfcMkq6sLPKVHzeILQdXxlXVMdQ/s1600-h/IMG_2535.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYsKPcBEoaFabtIvgtUxr0D4fvBFj1gULAmfjMxtVfUhFc7nraRBPgu3ZegaTcvwuDRUaST0XisYw62kJHMS6j_K2KdJFZc6u2af6mBDC2CdKDZWPkfcMkq6sLPKVHzeILQdXxlXVMdQ/s320/IMG_2535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451064932828354482" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After the exploring the shrine, We traveled to Gion. The historic center of Kyoto which is home to narrow back alleys and traditional homes. Stephany and I lurked the streets hoping to see a Gieko (Kyoto term for Geisha). This was our quest and we traveled up and down the streets stopping at nothing.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJnP3Jj22iFL-7J8cywl2G4qA_Ni0Gc5KBn6waEZdaReLr4YHkTj6miMsTjxyT65XuCYvdealf4s1AkmZVvtBIHIoMgmxA98FJdHZB1lYUfjcls9Xu06xTZQ-zmdHUVoh8Jvvg-pHnYQ/s1600-h/IMG_2550.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJnP3Jj22iFL-7J8cywl2G4qA_Ni0Gc5KBn6waEZdaReLr4YHkTj6miMsTjxyT65XuCYvdealf4s1AkmZVvtBIHIoMgmxA98FJdHZB1lYUfjcls9Xu06xTZQ-zmdHUVoh8Jvvg-pHnYQ/s320/IMG_2550.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451069994384747970" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Ok, maybe some savory mochi in front of Kyoto's Miniami-za Kabuki theater could<br />cause us to pause.<br /><br />We rewarded in the early evening to see a young Maiko (Geisha in training) being herded by a older woman teetering in her <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okobo">okobo shoes.</a> It felt much more like stepping into a movie set then reality and the uniqueness of the situation is striking me more as I write this then it did at the time. I regret not taking a picture of her but I did manage to snap one of this full fledged Geisha.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfS0Kokv2Qqu60b9_74_5lw7GvmUEtDEFTjeQbd99mNcBohmg7rYLv55oaU0juZV6qlAr5951lpbpPbnQwfhPe1Rfw2vEHTOb4Xm0SrpywM5m8fOtfbTztn22FC_PzSUNjEwKg7PpXH9A/s1600-h/IMG_2556.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfS0Kokv2Qqu60b9_74_5lw7GvmUEtDEFTjeQbd99mNcBohmg7rYLv55oaU0juZV6qlAr5951lpbpPbnQwfhPe1Rfw2vEHTOb4Xm0SrpywM5m8fOtfbTztn22FC_PzSUNjEwKg7PpXH9A/s320/IMG_2556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451072998490598274" border="0" /></a><br />That's all for now, later I'll share the epic story of "Kalk Sisters; Lost in the Bamboo Forest!"Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-18014061287477078192010-03-11T23:37:00.005+09:002010-03-13T21:56:46.393+09:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7G_U6z9kjIFS9HLrAjiYslsUaxN38s1nKOznkVPWv0aFGHPthBdUAfJZWGVJaIRUXVenBk9RkiJy36WOggqxHPKacG9tT0eaTBJtp9kwFT14QVil8YPYv4sb0VSnR36yJ-Wd60DYpMTY/s1600-h/IMG_2471.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7G_U6z9kjIFS9HLrAjiYslsUaxN38s1nKOznkVPWv0aFGHPthBdUAfJZWGVJaIRUXVenBk9RkiJy36WOggqxHPKacG9tT0eaTBJtp9kwFT14QVil8YPYv4sb0VSnR36yJ-Wd60DYpMTY/s320/IMG_2471.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448100534685691826" /></a><br />Hi every one, <br /><br />This is Stephany reporting to you from my very first international trip! This whole experience has been amazing and I hope to be able to have another wonderful experience like this soon (-ish). Every part of this trip has been great, I'm just sad it has to end so soon. <br /><br />The first night of our trip set the pattern for this trip. By that I mean that we got lost. After arriving in Kyoto that night we eventually found our hostel and went right to bed. The hostel we stayed at was really nice, but when you are in a very small four-person room and two of them are already asleep at ten o'clock it can be difficult to rummage through your bags to get ready for bed. we ended going out into the hall and practically emptying all of our stuff on the floor because we didn't want to wake our roommates up.<br /><br />The next day we went to the golden temple. Katie's lonely planet guide book, which we have been following without question, told us that it was right off the 205 bus route. So we hop on the first 205 bus we see and are off to see the golden temple. So we ride along not at all concerned about being the only ones on the train. Now remember what I said about getting lost? Not too far after we got on the bus pulls over and the driver proclaims, "finishu" we continue to chat excitedly about being in Japan, "finishu," still no response, "FINISHU!" We hastily got off the bus and found our selves in the middle of a random Kyoto street.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And that's all the time my fellow international traveler had to guest blog. I said goodbye to Steph today and I am prepping for my last day in Tokyo. I will finish what my sister started when I arrive back in Korea.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqvScunpGoAz1HL5dtWIidbH4CMvSMEZmCJNkRrdaEgSZBZ_LzIduQH6QKTP-VlSsPyjdsGvrYSi0cpckqku4JeFbapO1txAHK9cqI3REBMcnOb5nuU4xNFlXNM7anYfoeQuN-67uMLY/s1600-h/IMG_2516.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqvScunpGoAz1HL5dtWIidbH4CMvSMEZmCJNkRrdaEgSZBZ_LzIduQH6QKTP-VlSsPyjdsGvrYSi0cpckqku4JeFbapO1txAHK9cqI3REBMcnOb5nuU4xNFlXNM7anYfoeQuN-67uMLY/s320/IMG_2516.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448101456251289058" /></a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-49688050178367796452010-02-22T14:52:00.004+09:002010-02-22T23:38:09.440+09:00America Hell Yeah!I have no pictures of this day so you will have to take a leap of faith and believe that this is not a work of fiction of my part.<br /><br />On Sunday I went with four men I barely knew on a quest for Taco Bell. My friend Ki said he would sign all five of us into Camp Walker in order to sample my favorite trashy fast food. I knew two of the guys, Kyle and Jeff from a mutual friend and we realized how ridiculous this adventure was. Traveling cross town for a piece of taco shaped corn starch that costs under a dollar. Taco Bell was in my mind and nothing would keep me from my goal of 99c goodness. Ki signed us into the base (we had our S.O.F.A.S) and we walked up the dreary path to Taco Bell. After taco consumption we peaked inside the Px and this was when things turned a bit strange.<br /><br />All of a sudden my friend Kyle turned to me and said 'Whoa, is that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scott_Garland_%28wrestler%29">Scottie 2 Hottie</a>?' I assumed this was a nickname for some friend of his or maybe a inside joke I was missing out on. I was wrong. Scottie 2 Hottie is a WWE wrestler most famous for doing the worm on his opponents chest. Kyle spoke too Mr. 2 Hottie with religious reverence. Soon enough we learned that there was a free eight round match on base in two hours. Not wanting to break Kyles heart we decided to go.<br /><br />After killing two hours with cheap bowling we went to the gym. It was a small crowd, about 150 people. As I sat down I felt fear bubbling up in my stomach. What had I agreed to do? I couldn't sit through three minutes of pro-"wrestling" on TV and now I had agreed to a two hour live show? The worst part was knowing that I was truly trapped. Camp Walker rules state that the whole group must sign in and out together. I was trapped until Kyle lost interest which seemed as likely as a child losing interest in Christmas.<br /><br />The eight rounds proceeded like a incomprehensible circus performance. I could never believe that after nine months in Korea the culture of my own country would be so foreign and repulsive to me. Barely clad girls wrestling and tearing hair, a clown fighting a disco king and a goth vampire fighting a man who played a caricature of the mentally handicap. I had hope that I would find the matches comical but unfortunately I couldn't even mock the players for fear of the fat drunken men next to me. I imagined they would turn on me at any moment. "Its that a english teacher?" they would yell and then the clown would chase me down and Scottie 2 Hottie would impale me on his perfectly gelled hair.<br /><br />In the end I survived but as I left the base I didn't know which was up anymore. I felt so out of place in little America it was a relief to get cut off by old women in the subway line. I know it will be a bit difficult to readjust, knowing that everyone can understand me and having the knowledge that I can find anything I want at anytime. However I will be returning to the lovely Pacific Northwest where I doubt anyone will drag me to WWF.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-21015089114684370312010-02-17T13:39:00.003+09:002010-02-18T10:48:16.695+09:00Korean GoldI have always been a fan of the Olympic games. I enjoy the summer more than winter but I still keep my TV permanently set on Olympic coverage. For a small country with a short history in the Games Korea is doing incredibly well as I write this they rank fifth in the medal count! Go Korea! Fighting!<br /><br /><br />My local sports channel is embodying national pride by replaying Mo Tae-Bum's win in the 500 meter long track over and over and over.... The same ten minute clip set with repeat three times before moving to a different race. Two Korean men are the sportscasters for this race. One man quickly gives a play by play of the race. The other...well you will have to hear for yourself.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz6QkE9_XXi19_UUUOieliODLHnE6s5STeUzdP9rK94Y8mG4tK3pGIFmHe4QEWlVCjoFPc5paVE4UA2noqA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw48Qv4Qy6ISB7KfPRKZDmfT97FYzC6FdXorqKgPSNQuMkhXywwkA8-75OIMR4witERbz1KUuPgyOzZVlL2rg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br />UPDATE- <a href="http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/sports/2010/02/136_60814.html">My discussion of the Olympics to kick off class was extra fiery yesterday.</a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-9664673445635605632010-02-16T00:56:00.000+09:002010-02-16T00:56:00.069+09:00SelloalHappy Lunar New Year everyone. It is one of my three days off and unfortunately I have been simply lazing around. I have a big expensive tip planed in three weeks and I decided it would be best to keep it simple and save money. On that news I'd like to introduce you to a new member of the family, the North Face Tera 65 backpack. This fine friend will be my new companion in Japan, China and the rest of my future travels. It's my Selloal (New Years) gift to me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-0vDs2fOAeE7iLXwKOC4DAGsI6RFxWuT3MANUR52xueNQfhyfD7rDwzAxk51PrXw-m-gRbfJuaal1uO2kSL9Q1Q903QXeVwilB0xPlIyoPcAZ-fD0uS5R21SAS4HwWbLonsusyRp_SU4/s1600-h/IMG_2455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-0vDs2fOAeE7iLXwKOC4DAGsI6RFxWuT3MANUR52xueNQfhyfD7rDwzAxk51PrXw-m-gRbfJuaal1uO2kSL9Q1Q903QXeVwilB0xPlIyoPcAZ-fD0uS5R21SAS4HwWbLonsusyRp_SU4/s320/IMG_2455.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Korea, like most of northeast Asia celebrates Lunar New Year as one of the most important holidays of the year. Selloal is a family holiday that spans three days. Unlike most western holidays there doesn't seem to be a exact date to do each event. The most common schedule seems to start on Saturday, peak on Sunday and end on Monday. <br />
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Most of my friends are traveling this weekend to see their family. The Grandmother's or oldest Uncle's house are common destinations. At some time during the weekend the family will get dressed up in a traditional Hanbok for the Sebae ceremony. The Sebae ceremony is when family members do one deep bow to show their respect. Adult siblings to the oldest son, Wife to her new mother-in-law and most commonly, children to parents. This is often rewarded with some money or sweets.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My Neighborhood Hanbok Shop </div><br />
My students have be talking New Years since my first day of teaching as it is a much larger holiday than Christmas. They have been telling me about the huge amounts of money they receive today (about 200,000 won seems about average) from friends and family members. This money is then offered or to quote my students taken by their mothers and placed into a bank account for the child. Many kids get to keep a little of the money which results in crowded PC-bangs (internet cafes). <br />
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Another New Years tradition is going to the public bathhouse or <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/05/world/asia/05korea.html?_r=1">jimjibang</a>. My friend Hannah and I decided to celebrate today by going to Home Spa World. This is by no means my first trip to a jimjibang. I've had old women scrub sheets of dead skin off my body and ask me awkward questions on numerous occasions. This was however, our first trip to Home Spa World and I hoped to get something a little different for my 8,000 won. The basement of the spa is the actual jimjibang, filled with families dressed in blue for the Dads, pink for the Moms and green for the kids. This jimjibang was the best I have visited in Korea as most have little more than a few saunas. Home Spa World had nine different rooms.The hottest room was shaped like a giant tandoori oven and had a time limit of 15 minutes. The coldest room was freezing and had snow falling from the ceiling. My favorite room was the one with the small heated ceramic balls covering the floor about four inches deep. I buried myself in them like a kid at the beach. Other rooms included black rock, jade, salt rock and ceramics. After Hannah and I had our fill of all the various rooms we went upstairs to try out the many hot pools and steam rooms. We emerged very clean five hours after we arrived. It was a great way to welcome the Lunar New Year of my birth sign, The Tiger!Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-73754148456082691512010-02-03T15:10:00.000+09:002010-02-03T15:10:20.302+09:00Hiking in Korea is In Tents!/Intense!Sorry that its been so long since I have written everyone! I had the horrid graduate school application season in January followed by the moving apartments. My new place is slightly farther from work, a 15 minute walk instead of three. Its also a bit smaller however everything works in the new place! From heat to having a window its a more livable place than before. I still don't have email however and I am mooching off of the local coffee shop internet. So without further ado my much delayed post about hiking, Koreas national pastime (tied with Starcraft).<br />
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Korea is a very mountainous country. 70 percent of the peninsula is mountains which adds to the compact nature of city life. A good hiking peak is never far away and since I live at the edge of city I can begin my choice of several hikes within a five minute walk of my apartment. What Korean mountains have in quantity they lose in height. The tallest peak in South Korea is Halsan 1,950 meters above sea level. The relative ease of the hikes doesn't stop the older Koreans from treating the sport with a Olympic seriousness. The mountains swarm with men and women aged 50-75 speeding up the mountain, out pacing their own top driving speeds. Very few men and women backpack overnight on the mountains but that doesn't stop them from dressing the part. Here are two older gentlemen walking through my neighborhood perhaps on their way to Palgongsan. The long heavy wool socks over pants is a common fashion choice. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCJ8z2tXzHVNjaQY5pKbFJarj9HuyBwoL3yC_dsJpLrpKI4Sm2pnhZjlA3vK_lKJ19p4safnAk6XBTIlJPs9l0f9P8tgU-I3UEAPNQh04lMCPOaGOz30sEr1knaD8aM7tZ5LlZfPGVMg/s1600-h/IMG_2351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCJ8z2tXzHVNjaQY5pKbFJarj9HuyBwoL3yC_dsJpLrpKI4Sm2pnhZjlA3vK_lKJ19p4safnAk6XBTIlJPs9l0f9P8tgU-I3UEAPNQh04lMCPOaGOz30sEr1knaD8aM7tZ5LlZfPGVMg/s320/IMG_2351.JPG" /></a></div><br />
My friends and I decided one fateful day in December that we too could summit Palgongsan. I was ready for a traditional Korean hike. The consistent invite to the picnics at the top, mountain gyms and the little old ladies in white gloves that I never believed could have made the climb. What I didn't imagine however was how high 1192 meters feels on the 27th of December in below freezing weather. I was sweating and overheating while at the same time my face was slowly freezing off. Hence this horrible picture of my sweaty hair and frozen nose.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgigp8s7nrLKQldKkbW7bNPLD4H_HkaogDpGq0qEat0Iw3bXcWLjyE27jS_DmwDRzUHFdCE08RCAZo9ZlGi3MqtgFsTwH2sYOsFgGamhQqnzIh1ZuvfdLDpPmaWZnb_iiAsWq__BakiVc0/s1600-h/dongbong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgigp8s7nrLKQldKkbW7bNPLD4H_HkaogDpGq0qEat0Iw3bXcWLjyE27jS_DmwDRzUHFdCE08RCAZo9ZlGi3MqtgFsTwH2sYOsFgGamhQqnzIh1ZuvfdLDpPmaWZnb_iiAsWq__BakiVc0/s320/dongbong.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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After a full six hours of trekking we reached the peak. The Korean word for mountain top is "dongbong" which is perfect as I felt thoroughly dongbonged by the end of it. A storm was coming in and the temperature was rapidly dropping so we took the cable-car down the mountain. Some might call this lasy. I prefer survival based decision making.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76khEGKiBIrRfY-V0UCzAjtB8YkxVKW39QBtVNsM5LWAYUL4J1RD-UPm6fSedTFtBJN3CY-O0DUl0CohezSNmTUuWS8BrXcGDQwb-bZCG22bckHmG1CByI6Gp1bw-okPG0OagulCaNy8/s1600-h/peak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76khEGKiBIrRfY-V0UCzAjtB8YkxVKW39QBtVNsM5LWAYUL4J1RD-UPm6fSedTFtBJN3CY-O0DUl0CohezSNmTUuWS8BrXcGDQwb-bZCG22bckHmG1CByI6Gp1bw-okPG0OagulCaNy8/s320/peak.jpg" /></a></div>You don't go hiking in December for the foliage...<br />
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In other news...30 days till Japan and 70 till China. I love my life.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-77164277322951825762010-01-06T12:23:00.000+09:002010-01-06T12:23:19.526+09:00Snow in DaeguAs Seoul is slogging through record levels of snow, Daegu had a slight sprinkling on Monday. Daegu is a city surrounded by mountains which protects us from snowfall in the winter and maintains sweltering humidity in the summer. I went out on Monday and took shots of my neighborhood in the snow. The snow stop after four hours but most of it remained on the ground as the temperature remains above freezing. As I was taking pictures I realized I have never shared pictures of my lovely Sang-in neighborhood before.<br />
So without future delay, Sang-in in the Snow.<br />
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My apartment building. It's much smaller than my imagined city high-rise<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Snow on my neighbors traditional one story house. See the Kimchi fermenting pots in the foreground?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMFpL-tQRBXoqSpUn6wZdc7IussjMSxl5xJCKuw6wOCgLhK0t8H1eHvVsrpeOO2mQOD2XrGHMtTpNyh4Mu_FYF078-IYw2xQWuX_q_SOtK3mAF0FYrrX6VOu53iBxD8dtBDK8pEscOHQ/s1600-h/IMG_2398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">\<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMFpL-tQRBXoqSpUn6wZdc7IussjMSxl5xJCKuw6wOCgLhK0t8H1eHvVsrpeOO2mQOD2XrGHMtTpNyh4Mu_FYF078-IYw2xQWuX_q_SOtK3mAF0FYrrX6VOu53iBxD8dtBDK8pEscOHQ/s320/IMG_2398.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In rain and sleet and snow, the yogurt women still make their rounds.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0TRuVW5nZykFGkFnrdyXgxYR0otLFlZyX5vhrdCg4Du5Z9D481mrmJuhCEulHokSGsAKQ_wbpQlw8Hf2-EBVQ7o3UV7GCxjuVScktD_RWTJw7ZzMb77wIQhLJ1HBeT9QIwjuET7WDRg/s1600-h/IMG_2407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0TRuVW5nZykFGkFnrdyXgxYR0otLFlZyX5vhrdCg4Du5Z9D481mrmJuhCEulHokSGsAKQ_wbpQlw8Hf2-EBVQ7o3UV7GCxjuVScktD_RWTJw7ZzMb77wIQhLJ1HBeT9QIwjuET7WDRg/s320/IMG_2407.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The majority of the country lives in identical apartment blocks<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">This woman is selling delicious red bean cake fish. Tiger head might succumb.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Winter is apple season and Daegu claims to have the best in the country.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj959l5Qu3144Lq2XI_ioWrmLE776lRSq0e_Z0STJTnb8-TAU84mSV4CBLIJZr2w9BWmtFTthlMjZ9xRtjn6JrgHDTnCVuStP0L6YmdH5i8GrH7q4mNM-IihUGs7DI6FfxCI_8wAIghtpc/s1600-h/IMG_2416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj959l5Qu3144Lq2XI_ioWrmLE776lRSq0e_Z0STJTnb8-TAU84mSV4CBLIJZr2w9BWmtFTthlMjZ9xRtjn6JrgHDTnCVuStP0L6YmdH5i8GrH7q4mNM-IihUGs7DI6FfxCI_8wAIghtpc/s320/IMG_2416.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is winter vacation but that didn't stop most of my students from doing academy homework all day. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhQXpw8IsRfIntz2Q8uHvZ5vIkoDckzUjQtfKoolCrOXPVe7FBxnAFiyDlyYiFpYAtzwTdm0Vd6dqELcEzw8BTf0Nh8dzq9V60ia78rSOM-yH4cfrQZbD1omJ9Mn-tGfayN6D9AU1ixZ8/s1600-h/IMG_2420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhQXpw8IsRfIntz2Q8uHvZ5vIkoDckzUjQtfKoolCrOXPVe7FBxnAFiyDlyYiFpYAtzwTdm0Vd6dqELcEzw8BTf0Nh8dzq9V60ia78rSOM-yH4cfrQZbD1omJ9Mn-tGfayN6D9AU1ixZ8/s320/IMG_2420.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Many smaller Korean homes and businesses are heated with charcoal burners. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3IW5BIDGznf1SXS300jxeOZ6ChsmMv6ERltorYV3s4mzV-0BHA-8gGpcvjvux_-y5dV_-YXlyfSSl8q3TLsB3BxIjm4qtEunSez99qLj8F5mVpxy8hkiM4HaCVkC-chQlPrRg6GOc3f0/s1600-h/IMG_2425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3IW5BIDGznf1SXS300jxeOZ6ChsmMv6ERltorYV3s4mzV-0BHA-8gGpcvjvux_-y5dV_-YXlyfSSl8q3TLsB3BxIjm4qtEunSez99qLj8F5mVpxy8hkiM4HaCVkC-chQlPrRg6GOc3f0/s320/IMG_2425.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dak-gabli must be delivered in any weather conditions. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9spYDtZNiFGUdDXZN7gm-BAIu7j2KIDN0fFl9SebnMo1DX_BqBlB7SZDf6njcVz3q7Z7ouQExXn2pqrHkZu9aZZFzAA7SXmBPvsanbcC54RJdFeAyH0F-fJ23g0cQxjATsT8_2ScnpKI/s1600-h/IMG_2431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9spYDtZNiFGUdDXZN7gm-BAIu7j2KIDN0fFl9SebnMo1DX_BqBlB7SZDf6njcVz3q7Z7ouQExXn2pqrHkZu9aZZFzAA7SXmBPvsanbcC54RJdFeAyH0F-fJ23g0cQxjATsT8_2ScnpKI/s200/IMG_2431.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This bike was parked outside of a photo studio.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EKNO6X9QuDNY2ViKKxSLBxqK5Gkwo3ETzYniWVrfjxzGB6jiiSAr-oE-oHlsFccY2kcqDQ4ffFwLghF583ZVg5nbEZO_2pTdMuXZ5iC8IkHHc8kN96PkuYD-y3rAKWyFiS5N_TYNKaQ/s1600-h/IMG_2448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EKNO6X9QuDNY2ViKKxSLBxqK5Gkwo3ETzYniWVrfjxzGB6jiiSAr-oE-oHlsFccY2kcqDQ4ffFwLghF583ZVg5nbEZO_2pTdMuXZ5iC8IkHHc8kN96PkuYD-y3rAKWyFiS5N_TYNKaQ/s320/IMG_2448.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There is no better way to end my photopost then with a image of the iconic claw machines covered in snow. They have taken my beckwons (100 won=10 cents) and I have won their vitamin candy. <br />
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</div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-4676544423577014512009-12-30T15:10:00.002+09:002009-12-30T15:18:45.105+09:00A Korean ChristmasLast weekend I celebrated Christmas by Skypeing my family and going to a zany work dinner. It was a poor trade for a real Kalk family Christmas but I still had loads of fun.<br />
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The reason I didn't get too depressed was Christmas in Korea is nothing like back home. Its seen as another couples holiday like White Day, Valentines Day and Peppero Day. About half of my Elementary School Students reported getting a gift and none of my middle school students did. One distinctively Korean tradition is the Christmas Cake. These cakes are sold at every store on the peninsula and are more standard then Santa or a Tree. Some of the stores that sold cakes include Baskin Robbins, Paris (Baguette and Croissant), Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts and countless others. The cakes <a href="http://www.zenkimchi.com/FoodJournal/archives/1925">look adorable</a> but are generally dry and custardy. The Christmas Cake tradition is a bit of a let down compared to all of the wonderful baking I missed at home this year. Yet the Cakes do have home style Christmas beat on one thing. They all come with hats. Check out the Baskin Robbins penguins. It looks good on the cute salesgirl but I have seen these hats on old men and women on mountain tops. Only in Korea. <br />
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My favorite hat this year would have to been the Paris Baguette hat. Its a wolf..wearing sheepskin? And now for your viewing pleasure, the PB Christmas Cake commercial that has haunted my dreams for the last month. I had to give you the long version so you wouldn't miss out on 2PM's rap.<br />
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Christmas morning I went to Mass with a friend and her mother. Mass was in Korean but I could understand everything that took place because of the international standards of the Catholic Church. Its wonderful to feel so connected to Catholics around the world! The Choir was incredible. They sang all the Carols in Latin and with operatic style and quality. That being said their was still major differences. The most shocking one was that all of the women covered their head with pre-Vatican two doilies. I was told its wasn't mandatory but my friends and I were the only ones without. Also the sermon was as done as a musical number by the priest. After mass we were asked to stand up and say where we are from. You know that vising Ethiopian family? Yes, its me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgET9h4RqJR6y_hwGogu9ADkAl50d2so5ECs5-rN1_kNuOqq7cNdfmzIRFCulE0Z6juxpUDHiebEHWEAJWGI9Lr-AkZKk4beadD_7t2a2xzciOvCmhyphenhyphenE3bn9gMCQP7pR1dV74x3leKj4/s1600-h/IMG_2350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgET9h4RqJR6y_hwGogu9ADkAl50d2so5ECs5-rN1_kNuOqq7cNdfmzIRFCulE0Z6juxpUDHiebEHWEAJWGI9Lr-AkZKk4beadD_7t2a2xzciOvCmhyphenhyphenE3bn9gMCQP7pR1dV74x3leKj4/s320/IMG_2350.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div>Do you like the traditional Korean manger complete with pumpkin on top?<br />
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After mass I went to the work party but it didn't fulfill my Christmas craving. I imagine that I will have a mini-break down in July when my Christmas alarms rings six months over due. I never even had a eggnog latte...<br />
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Merry Late Christmas Everyone!<br />
<object height="295" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iE5MwaaK6_o&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iE5MwaaK6_o&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-67391893599845677142009-12-14T22:28:00.008+09:002009-12-14T22:40:07.629+09:00The Most Happy Wedding Day<meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><title></title><meta name="GENERATOR" content="StarOffice 8 ASUS Edition (Win32)"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { size: 8.5in 11in; margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bot</style>This Sunday I was invited to a mandatory Wedding of So Yeon, the secretary at my work. She always greets me with a smile and a double wrist wave so I was excited to support her on her wedding day. My boss set out a envelope with all of the teachers names on it which were checked off after we gave 30,000 won. It was nice to have the gift covered stress free but I became wary when I realized everyone was forced to pay. Even those not attending the wedding. <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIg-f-iyxKyHiilKbFfjYOIM5kzqECWoiT_nPBG8p3EhhFKH4Mq5TRS-3GyT3SynAodRsKq1GbnMvlnyyXK9wsnTuCHnSsjqOaDmoNJJ_Z3BXTcyyDZFnw5o7TQXJinUhyphenhyphenBp3LLp1P6t8/s1600-h/IMG_2326.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIg-f-iyxKyHiilKbFfjYOIM5kzqECWoiT_nPBG8p3EhhFKH4Mq5TRS-3GyT3SynAodRsKq1GbnMvlnyyXK9wsnTuCHnSsjqOaDmoNJJ_Z3BXTcyyDZFnw5o7TQXJinUhyphenhyphenBp3LLp1P6t8/s320/IMG_2326.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415083511851134914" border="0" /></a>
<br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US">On the big day we arrive at the Wedding Center. It is a six story ugly building in the middle of a nondescript neighborhood. I had seen these buildings before. On Sundays they swarm with men in suits and women in dresses. I walked in wondering how all of these people knew So Yeon. This was my first mistake.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEpASnKhvvUTKMDxDixWEPlhm_TWYOPJu1UKG-4C9FD8SRszfuzG0KfTJBjzKSNsUuE9xWJNmxNfOiA-9vVIinjGsZYEicwoC34oUAsMeKd866o78sFVSTvopyCkxzYN0eXwRXJUzVWo/s1600-h/IMG_2320.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEpASnKhvvUTKMDxDixWEPlhm_TWYOPJu1UKG-4C9FD8SRszfuzG0KfTJBjzKSNsUuE9xWJNmxNfOiA-9vVIinjGsZYEicwoC34oUAsMeKd866o78sFVSTvopyCkxzYN0eXwRXJUzVWo/s320/IMG_2320.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415083810438098530" border="0" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US">The wedding was on the 5<sup>th</sup> floor. One of three devoted to ceremonies and the other half dedicated to buffet dining halls, more on that mess later. The floor was crammed, I saw a bride in a voluminous white cupcake walk by but she was not So Yeon. We were reunited with the Korean staff who (as always) were disproportionately shocked to she me dressed up. Unlike many Korean women I have a different wardrobe for weddings then I do teaching eight year old's. It seemed we had almost missed the main event. No not the ceremony, but the chance to take pictures with the Bride. Taking pictures seems to be the most important part of a Korean wedding. People show up a hour early to snap pictures. Also all Koreans have professional wedding photos taken before the wedding to display at the actual event. </p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMOeD8fUKyl6xTGmFryZr-85aQkG9G-5mZ5QZvZLpWM66ObjiBLOi2qSGIVuk2iceAmQ9TNnFzBXpADTNgE1QuHwDFkr8uT_ahAa-xR2VSqHB8LPKTcvUFtcaZyFrbouyfyZY8LrgSBJs/s1600-h/IMG_2324.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMOeD8fUKyl6xTGmFryZr-85aQkG9G-5mZ5QZvZLpWM66ObjiBLOi2qSGIVuk2iceAmQ9TNnFzBXpADTNgE1QuHwDFkr8uT_ahAa-xR2VSqHB8LPKTcvUFtcaZyFrbouyfyZY8LrgSBJs/s320/IMG_2324.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415084635697921202" border="0" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US">Next to the photo-op platform was a small “chapel” with the doors open to the rest of the floor. I put chapel in quotes because I have no idea what to call that place. A discothèque mashed up with a fashion show catwalk would be more appropriate. Their were lights on the ceiling and a white piano in the background. I think George Michael of WHAM might have created more subtle décor. The room had about twelve tables each full of talking guests. We squeezed into a corner next to the open doors. Then the Mothers of the Bride and Groom started to walk down the catwalk in traditional Hanboks and I was shocked by what happened next. Nobody stopped talking. In fact people chatted the entire time. The banal chatter was made worse by the fact that the doors to the main floor remained open allowing all the guests of other weddings (or guests who didn't care to watch) noise to leak in. </p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMuh2btWybGiy_enmmYTMl2jkqrTTkWeizK-nzcVxAaanuZi-eiV5RIJR_lmwV3kufmpAx-p-NRY5PMBksFM4UKEhRxBbTZXHEfAPkeVlKqMiJ9BVDXnbED0isRlwn1Uxecw-0DSMBl0k/s1600-h/IMG_2325.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMuh2btWybGiy_enmmYTMl2jkqrTTkWeizK-nzcVxAaanuZi-eiV5RIJR_lmwV3kufmpAx-p-NRY5PMBksFM4UKEhRxBbTZXHEfAPkeVlKqMiJ9BVDXnbED0isRlwn1Uxecw-0DSMBl0k/s320/IMG_2325.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415084904833182482" border="0" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US">The Groom walked down the aisle followed by the Bride and her father. Their was no groomsmen or bridesmaids. They bowed to each other and a man, a prominent friend of the grooms fathers (the perfect tool for business kissup) gave the lecture. He spoke for about 15 minutes and although I didn't understand a word, I was never bored. I was horrified by the videographer shoving the camera into the Bride and Grooms face. The ceremony was also projected on a large screen about ten feet from the real thing and had a distracting amount of camera angles. Before I knew it the speaking was finished and the Grooms friend sang a love ballad to the new couple. After that the sound-track strutters to a stop and everyone climbs on stage to take a group photo. I'm lurking in the back like a freakish tall person. The bride tosses the bouquet to a assigned person (also a photo-op) and we all wander out of the room.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj246oPKk6gE2wusJSM1uSs15yxrK-QkoclKGh2z2d6mTT8y-5v3XntFfcPhVl71w-jV5Ad1-e-eZgPsqjJPvb_jTPAdE1khDJOZ_TZni7XlR0dYIoL6axadYWoDP21BFAQu1MrdFXG5o/s1600-h/IMG_2330.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj246oPKk6gE2wusJSM1uSs15yxrK-QkoclKGh2z2d6mTT8y-5v3XntFfcPhVl71w-jV5Ad1-e-eZgPsqjJPvb_jTPAdE1khDJOZ_TZni7XlR0dYIoL6axadYWoDP21BFAQu1MrdFXG5o/s320/IMG_2330.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415085112184802354" border="0" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US">I walk out feeling a bit punked. Do Korean's think they can take all the cute symbols but none of the mean of a western wedding and still create meaning out of it. It took less than 30 minutes. What is the point? Well the couple now changes into their traditional Hanboks and moves to another room. It looks like the inside of a traditional Korean house except for the fact that there are three of these rooms next to each other. I wanted to watch this ceremony but was told by my co-workers it was much too long, about 45 minutes. We then went to downstairs to the reason the majority of guests come. The buffet, I imagine this is what my 30,000 won went to. I hope not because the food was nothing special and didn't include booze or cake. My friends and I ate in silence. What was that? How does that rushed flashy show reflect of Korean marriages and most importantly, why did I spend two hours getting dressed up to spend only a hour watching a show and eating bad food?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQxiiEPwqUA2gWUhp7hv_b-KClJK9ItzNRaEYcwRMnHSt0D1Qud9xf3uklKpRD5XdSpdXlMyIaHOl8-1g8rqXlIVdsgLZrU5d74f2f125e4EeRRTNUKQiCoCj4LplFAYaTK80BrsBips/s1600-h/IMG_2340.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQxiiEPwqUA2gWUhp7hv_b-KClJK9ItzNRaEYcwRMnHSt0D1Qud9xf3uklKpRD5XdSpdXlMyIaHOl8-1g8rqXlIVdsgLZrU5d74f2f125e4EeRRTNUKQiCoCj4LplFAYaTK80BrsBips/s320/IMG_2340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415085664484945826" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHBv5M9fr7Au1JGolh9iQONDXhV4VZAB9_hcNPJ4Yc6IKJFVkiniA0WOJiCjTj9COzrofOUsiGisCB8FCcSfhzyYY7qvYK67X-PyPVY89sxi-rUuBnf4p1Y8SO4y2sTRFh7tbbeCih2w/s1600-h/IMG_2345.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHBv5M9fr7Au1JGolh9iQONDXhV4VZAB9_hcNPJ4Yc6IKJFVkiniA0WOJiCjTj9COzrofOUsiGisCB8FCcSfhzyYY7qvYK67X-PyPVY89sxi-rUuBnf4p1Y8SO4y2sTRFh7tbbeCih2w/s320/IMG_2345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415085862350329346" border="0" /></a></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US">In the end this hour/day is nothing about me. So Yeon looked gorgeous and her husband couldn't stop smiling. I, on the other hand will get married in Tunisia. Its much more fun.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US">
<br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudTH0BhMe_8GT6IGh5klyGS5gEXSGhHCsRymxYTKXLm4M3PLtxZbBB53TT9RbqUIMMZNs2jC8GU5pKOe_PADIsZGap-w3iKQQc42emyBwPo3cvMtR40MS2GfurXtkjOdYVxH9UXLdruI/s1600-h/IMG_2327.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudTH0BhMe_8GT6IGh5klyGS5gEXSGhHCsRymxYTKXLm4M3PLtxZbBB53TT9RbqUIMMZNs2jC8GU5pKOe_PADIsZGap-w3iKQQc42emyBwPo3cvMtR40MS2GfurXtkjOdYVxH9UXLdruI/s320/IMG_2327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415086034954723922" border="0" /></a></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" lang="en-US"></p>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-37096480962352995862009-12-02T15:47:00.001+09:002009-12-03T11:38:49.499+09:00Halfway Point<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiloY942YqqenSsBFQo2Y5iJJDVSSjismygVNxvFdonXy3uRfVMHz_Y-FzfOgZ7OST1-K6vZqUy_MPOiei0iZL3aEhuJxyo_dXseEqNw2OLtrGKgfqdZNxj73Y4Bc8X4SjL8NXVsm4sov8/s1600-h/IMG_2243.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiloY942YqqenSsBFQo2Y5iJJDVSSjismygVNxvFdonXy3uRfVMHz_Y-FzfOgZ7OST1-K6vZqUy_MPOiei0iZL3aEhuJxyo_dXseEqNw2OLtrGKgfqdZNxj73Y4Bc8X4SjL8NXVsm4sov8/s320/IMG_2243.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410833587765417522" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Last night when I was watching a horrible (then horribly funny) gore-fest titled Ninja assassin staring Korean boy-band singer RAIN. It dawned on me that it was December 2nd and I had been living in Korea for six months. My contract is half over!<br />Sometimes I feel like I have been living here forever but more commonly I feel like its only been weeks. I every time I think I have my Korea figured out it surprises me again. Sometimes in a quirky "is that a Cafe where couples pay to spend time with cats?" and other times in a depressing "I can only be called fat and ugly so many times" way. Korea is a place strange place to live. On the surface it looks allot like home, the brands and stores are familiar. Under the surface however Korea is more alienating then Tunisia. The lack of diversity and being the constant other is difficult to adapt to. There is one place in Korean society for people of my age and background which is a ESL teacher. Unfortunately this comes with negative stereotypes that many Koreans will use when interacting with me.<br />Despite all this I have met wonderful friends in Korea. I feel more at ease socially then in my last two years of college. I have more money saved then I ever had before and I am able to finance my own global adventures. I am having the time of my life in land of (stone stupas?) pickled vegetables. I have to make some important choices in the next few months. Will I resign, teach in another country or move home?<br /><br />Whatever I chose in the future, I know it wasn't a mistake to come to Korea. It was opened up my world and this is the first time I have fully supported myself. I am motivated to continue live a international lifestyle and to meet the challenges of everyday.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-48769204521531965822009-11-30T14:35:00.005+09:002009-11-30T15:23:50.222+09:00Cappadocia Day ThreeAs the Sun rose on our last day in Cappadocia, Carolyn and I felt like we had done all of the major things we wanted to do. Cappadocia needs weeks to explore but if you only have days you can still see the key sights.<br /><br />Our last day in Cappadocia was Republic Day and even the small city was decked out with large scale banners of Ataturk and the flag. I was a bit disappointed that I missed out on the celebration in Istanbul but I managed to make do with watching these school children put on a play.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SaP3n1DRUSl13cup40dgf6r5hBb6WJl8BX99LqawkN8XRhMJHABfww5-icOP6KF6OxJ3FE3QaMLwoMP7JM5o9iIJUuEpb-AnV3Wuig5GM3x7Z6AX4ythHe4khVaXDAeTDpVQRbiRetw/s1600/IMG_2104.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SaP3n1DRUSl13cup40dgf6r5hBb6WJl8BX99LqawkN8XRhMJHABfww5-icOP6KF6OxJ3FE3QaMLwoMP7JM5o9iIJUuEpb-AnV3Wuig5GM3x7Z6AX4ythHe4khVaXDAeTDpVQRbiRetw/s320/IMG_2104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409771672112269042" border="0" /></a><br />We then decided to walk to the highest point in Cappadocia, Uchisar Castle. It is called a Castle for tourist reasons but a central government figure was never held here. More likely it was another mountainous village. It took about a hour to make it from our hotel to the top of Uchisar. The view from the top was almost as good (and much cheaper) than the scenes from the hot air balloon. We had a really nice girl from Canada traveling with us that day and she had a blast taking modelish shots of us. I could never manage to keep a straight face but still manged to look presentable in a couple of shots.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpxcppupmG3OeedNEKJGJ0hrJhKI9gyVikgKGlAsFiopEgG1fh0Gm4nLLaa2B8cvEDDZRuR7QiIOcguWkOJwD1S_PrlHVdsZ6pH0nr_maRJGHgUrHKeyx6Qq90cn0bHGbZT-iSkJ80yI/s1600/atm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpxcppupmG3OeedNEKJGJ0hrJhKI9gyVikgKGlAsFiopEgG1fh0Gm4nLLaa2B8cvEDDZRuR7QiIOcguWkOJwD1S_PrlHVdsZ6pH0nr_maRJGHgUrHKeyx6Qq90cn0bHGbZT-iSkJ80yI/s320/atm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409776628836598594" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After our photo-op at the local peak we walked back to the hotel through beautiful Pigeon Valley. Named after all of the ruins of pigeon houses that scatter the landscape.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXrZWSmq-4Ns_g1hx1Eg6scpwt3Me_3kVFR4uWbjnO8CDiRWtx0ISd8ObWfAMSBEPr3Dd_-kFBVEPukN7SXVyfNs3Q5Asz6j3KLv9E-uIC8gxBBvWp7UAzSKTxGHOy11U4-Rlaq2Jm5h0/s1600/IMG_2128.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXrZWSmq-4Ns_g1hx1Eg6scpwt3Me_3kVFR4uWbjnO8CDiRWtx0ISd8ObWfAMSBEPr3Dd_-kFBVEPukN7SXVyfNs3Q5Asz6j3KLv9E-uIC8gxBBvWp7UAzSKTxGHOy11U4-Rlaq2Jm5h0/s320/IMG_2128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409777999978857170" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />When we arrived back in town it was time to catch our flight back to Istanbul. I was ready to return to the big city. There was still so much I wanted to see and with only one day left in my trip, I was feeling a bit antsy.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8716641381358273193.post-67988608544481691292009-11-30T12:34:00.008+09:002009-11-30T13:55:55.230+09:00Cappadocia Day TwoSorry its been so long since I've written. Jill visited last week and I traveled to some new interesting places in Korea like Suwon Fortress. I am going to finish my Turkey blogs ASAP so I can get back to talking about Korea.<br /><br /><br />The second day in Cappadocia was the day of our Hot Air Balloon ride. It was extremely expensive (Won doesn't convert well into Euros) but it was a once in a lifetime opportunity I wasn't about to turn down. We woke up at dawn and drove out into the fields. There are many balloon companies in Cappadoica and the early morning colors were accented by the blazing flames. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIgm8gmYdZU7wGVODda9X_644dj27idCchZFHc0HOelbRqS9EUQe9WIvG0la8BbYFRZxBBxAJb0x4BQV8oiA5_D4cGwLWtOYknxpf3-Yqinm_uZemnYOh2TlC-8Av1SfblZJACmYnfME/s1600/IMG_2033.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIgm8gmYdZU7wGVODda9X_644dj27idCchZFHc0HOelbRqS9EUQe9WIvG0la8BbYFRZxBBxAJb0x4BQV8oiA5_D4cGwLWtOYknxpf3-Yqinm_uZemnYOh2TlC-8Av1SfblZJACmYnfME/s320/IMG_2033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409737044679779986" border="0" /></a><br />Carolyn and I where copying the exact trip of friends of ours. He proposed during the balloon flight. A wise idea on his part, as it would be impossible to turn down any romantic idea hovering over the desert waves of history. The flight was just over an hour and we all were suspended in breathlessness. Except our pilot, who liked to spit over the side of the basket when he was not preforming daredevil sweeps next to rock faces. I felt like a wandering spirit as we peeked into cliff homes turned unusable by time and that can be seen only in flight. I will never forget that feeling.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqBuQL0rPpkVOBbZIQaxxJiZzG9kVUMJcGnJnTA1pg3QokzR7QV97yWawoYDfAXsEccxbCXPVlSNC0N96w89sVFrLtZmbwMY3CHG696bO4H0aL8VEVaPU4mXyclrbRj-lyic-EA2mf3VI/s1600/IMG_2059.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqBuQL0rPpkVOBbZIQaxxJiZzG9kVUMJcGnJnTA1pg3QokzR7QV97yWawoYDfAXsEccxbCXPVlSNC0N96w89sVFrLtZmbwMY3CHG696bO4H0aL8VEVaPU4mXyclrbRj-lyic-EA2mf3VI/s320/IMG_2059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409740455987877746" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNC2O2zqK8CHMZnWyNpPc3B0pE5d1E5sYBcCi4lOskBh6Ec5S7znCkj_0DrCKfjXNJkI9_gpXaMNrewhxkGd9k5DsPfbLoNEuAcsOt06RYkIG1YCEjXJpyoDd1d29JHSWr8SHo5gHsZo/s1600/IMG_2050.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNC2O2zqK8CHMZnWyNpPc3B0pE5d1E5sYBcCi4lOskBh6Ec5S7znCkj_0DrCKfjXNJkI9_gpXaMNrewhxkGd9k5DsPfbLoNEuAcsOt06RYkIG1YCEjXJpyoDd1d29JHSWr8SHo5gHsZo/s320/IMG_2050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409740200340623634" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE7OmekVUuzligWIEAGqxXtOKS-jlX0YzXjJRw1gym_2Q5rQJWdYnWn2vMmCIyBcYCATmyiOYECr7w0NibMpnoWx38OF9FBgtre-TD5Wogvvu2o51HbD-_38E3DEecvaVFj0RXqxEvYRk/s1600/IMG_2061.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE7OmekVUuzligWIEAGqxXtOKS-jlX0YzXjJRw1gym_2Q5rQJWdYnWn2vMmCIyBcYCATmyiOYECr7w0NibMpnoWx38OF9FBgtre-TD5Wogvvu2o51HbD-_38E3DEecvaVFj0RXqxEvYRk/s320/IMG_2061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409739730767575234" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After we descended back to earth we ate the worlds best breakfast. Turkish style yogurt, figs, dates, goat cheese (this is difficult to write about now that I'm back in the land of Kimchi and Rice). Carolyn and I still had the full day ahead of us and we decided to travel to Kayamkli underground city. After a delightful sketchy bus/air-porter van ride we arrived at the city. The city was carved over a thousand years ago for persecuted Christians. Only six floors are currently open but the city has over twenty floors not yet excavated. We explored the city with a keep of our guide for had no problem handing us a flashlight and then pointing us down tiny holes leading to churches, jail cells and general claustrophobia. It was mesmerizing to think of 3,000 people living in these human equivalents of ant hills. The richest living in the upper levels with the freshest air. We saw what remained of winery's, kitchens and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Puerta_derinkuyu.jpg">large round doors</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEXSM61KwHMeDMDYys6llEgcJspQ8f8swiPMbfLznlUayKPKDbP-lgWDyqyFhYkVgHPJXMBBaCqeTvcqutYxaHqkl6DPQ9iqZ2YSGaw5b8dIAZqDVg17hs3BzgQrRGgYJMxcm30zzAYM/s1600/cavepeople.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEXSM61KwHMeDMDYys6llEgcJspQ8f8swiPMbfLznlUayKPKDbP-lgWDyqyFhYkVgHPJXMBBaCqeTvcqutYxaHqkl6DPQ9iqZ2YSGaw5b8dIAZqDVg17hs3BzgQrRGgYJMxcm30zzAYM/s320/cavepeople.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409754657036101762" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After exploring the local village we returned to Goreme for a rained out mountain bike ride. I was a bit disappointed.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNULCFzp1dY44edCBWyuCdrC45calMhGomaovsuMBikD58_2PiAph4wgXOsoxGzIgHHMtel0GTgv7b6QU0sw2VOJer9U_X6WWfecZ1sI1GwCnjUGeI7jkTyySrxZFmfjvsIc2DaPDot9A/s1600/IMG_2094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNULCFzp1dY44edCBWyuCdrC45calMhGomaovsuMBikD58_2PiAph4wgXOsoxGzIgHHMtel0GTgv7b6QU0sw2VOJer9U_X6WWfecZ1sI1GwCnjUGeI7jkTyySrxZFmfjvsIc2DaPDot9A/s320/IMG_2094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409754957694351874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Stay tuned for my last two Turkey blogs. Coming soon I promise!Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764113093300260025noreply@blogger.com2