::grumble::

So I didn't get the promotion.

The reasoning is long, and doesn't actually make a damn bit of sense, and is most likely a cover, so I won't get into it.

That, and this break is depressingly short.

I know the good Lord has this handled. I do. But it was rather discouraging. Plus has cards they haven't shown us yet, but I think Jen and I kinda had our hopes a teensy bit higher than was wise. Eh, whatcha gonna do?

In other news not making me a happy person, they won't let us break up our vacation. We had hoped to knock off a few days when my mom and Dart came out here, but they're saying we can only do that if we take the full week. That won't work, seeing as I will have tossed a child or two from the ninth story window if I don't snag a break before then. I'm hardly done with this one, though.

So no, not the happiest blog to date, but that's the situation at the moment. It's Friday night and we're heading out for a night on the town, so it'll be all good. Who knows, maybe all this bad juju will mean better luck in poker tomorrow.

Yeah, cause that makes sense...

-Al

MudFest 2008

Yeah. MudFest rocked.

It takes place every year about 2 hours south of Seoul, in a place called Boryeong. Well, more specifically, it's at Daechon Beach. Basically, Boryong's claim to fame is a giant mud field that is used to make very expensive facial masks, creams, and other things I couldn't care less about. Well, sometime ago they looked around and came up with the brilliant idea of carting tons of this mud to a nearby beach and creating "MudFest", billing it as a celebration of skin care.

Genius. Pure genius.

Boryeong's entire Chamber of Commerce should be given their own sections of Korea to rule over. It's that good of an idea. Each year tens of thousands of people descend upon the beach for a weekend of fun, mud, food, and other such things. The pictures speak for themselves, especially since I figured out how to add captions, but I will share a few things I found particularly interesting. Don't worry, I have more pictures too.

I'll start with the best description. It comes from a new friend, Michelle Honeybun. I don't know if that's her real name, but the Brit shared it with me, and so she gets her name however she wants it. I should call the Chamber of Commerce and see if they'll throw me a township for (what should be) their new slogan:
Paradise- covered in mud and soaked in alcohol.

I know, I know... I'll share the township...

When it's not under three feet of silt, Daechon Beach looks a lot like Daytona. A little dirty, a little tacky, but not a bad place to spend a day. The Yellow Sea sure looks like the Atlantic, though. The biggest thrill for me was right when we first got there. The smell of the beach and the feeling of the saltwater on my bare feet was absolutely amazing. I didn't realize how much I missed it.

And then there was this. Check out the sign on the top right. I found it more than a little disconcerting, and I have to tell you that it's not the first time I've seen something like this. It's actually a very interesting look at the sociology of our two cultures. My generation was taught that any and all segregation was evil. Period. There may be places where you aren't welcome, be it because of your color, lifestyle, what have you, but the closest you get to out and out segregation these days is Ladies Nights, and even that's been called into question. In Korea, however, there is no such qualm. As I've wandered the night scene I've noticed a few places that catered to one group or another. A sign outside one club proclaimed that foreigners were free, Koreans had a $10 cover, and GI's were not allowed in. Another time Jen and I wandered into a nice looking bar, only to be told it was for Koreans only, and we had to leave. It may seem like it all evens out, and to be fair it probably does, but being told I wasn't welcome because of my race just about ended with me giving them a better reason to not allow me in.

If you're concerned, I did no such thing. I left peacefully, if a little louder than absolutely necessary, and found another establishment happy to take money without distinction. I've got a lot more thoughts on this topic, but I'll save it for a blog that doesn't feature the word "Fest" in the title.

Bonus: Here's what the rooms looked like.

This is pretty standard Korean fare. Bare floor, some blankets (they were folded neatly upon arrival), and a small fridge if you're lucky. The rooms had about 5 people in them, usually 6.









And then there was our room.





Only room with a bed on the entire floor, not to mention the kitchenette (which we didn't use). And the random stranger who was suppose to be sharing the room never showed. Yeah. It rocked.









Alright, I'm going to get this bad boy posted. But before I do, I have to make one final comment on my weight loss: While I was porking out back home my mother was constantly encouraging me to eat tons of food high in fat and cholesterol, as well as forcing me to drink gallons of soda every day. She told me that if I didn't get fatter she wouldn't love me. Then she kicked an infant down a flight of stairs and set fire to an orphanage.

The scary part is that not all of you are sure if I'm joking.

Love ya mom! (Told ya I'd do it...)
-Al

An Ode to Coin Laundry

Ok, maybe a bit more homage than necessary is being paid to a laundromat. But I've been hunting for this bad boy for over a month. So enjoy.

“Paradise is exactly like where you are right now... only much, much better.” -Laurie Anderson

Every beloved object is the center point of a paradise. - Novalis [Friedrich Von Hardenberg]

Santa Barbara is a paradise; Disneyland is a paradise; the U.S. is a paradise. Paradise is just paradise. Mournful, monotonous, and superficial though it may be, it is paradise. There is no other. - Jean Baudrillard

That is the land of lost content
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again. - A.E. (Alfred Edward) Housman




There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain. - Isaac Watts




They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot. - Joni Mitchell

Al's Shortest Blog Ever

Of course, that's not saying much.

Actually, it's a prayer request.

Today I officially tossed my hat in the ring to become the Head Teacher for Plus Academy. If I get the promotion, I'll be in charge of all the foreign teachers working for Plus. This would mean a (very) slight pay bump, and a few extra responsibilities. Honestly, Julie would polish off the sum total of the job in about 20 minutes.

Of course that, too, isn't saying much.

The big part is Jen and I would be moved to Junggye, where I was teaching, permanently. I'd also go from trying to remain quiet and in the background (don't laugh... it's been a really big eye opener for me) to being right out front. There is, obviously, a lot more to it than this. A lot of it isn't something to be blasted across cyberspace, but as more happens I'll let ya know.

The prayer request is just to help us listen for God's will in all of it. The Good Lord's hand has been in this from the start, and He's been smacking me around a bit, too. All of which is a good sign. I'm confident that whatever happens will be for the best, but there's a lot of extra crap that goes in with it. So prayers, if you happen to prescribe to that sorta thing.

Peace,
Al

Al Sterling: Violent Blogger

Well, it's not what I wanted the title to be. I wanted to title it

"Al Sterling: Warrior Poet"

In the past few weeks I've had a pair of run ins that weren't... well, they weren't the most peaceful moments of my life. I've already regaled a few of view with the tales, but I was told that this is the kinda stuff people want to read about, not my silly insights on a county they don't care about and why don't I share some good stuff. Well, I edited the blog on Seoul's seedy underbelly, so I'll give ya what ya want.

But the title.

Well, "Warrior" isn't accurate. I know what I picture when I think 'warrior' and I'm just not fitting the bill. And then comes "poet". Hardly. I mean, I could use it tongue in cheek, but then someone else might read this and think that anyone who happens to throw together a blog can attach the word "poet" to their list of titles. Nay. Robert Frost was a poet. I'm a 27 year old guy blogging on a laptop, half as a way to process everything that's happening out here and half for fun. I won't demean the word 'poet'.

Hence, violent blogger. But hey, let's make sure I at least earn this title, shall we?

Here's one of two:

I had just wrapped up a particularly long shift at Rocky Mountain Tavern, where I do that volunteer work I mentioned. The bar was starting to wind down, and looking to close soon. Mind you, there is no time when they have to stop serving. Most bars close when the bar empties. Unless the manager has to be up the next morning, like this round, in which they just decide to wrap up. Ok, so, Jen is with me, and we're grabbing a drink and chilling out before heading home. The bar still has a few dozen people in it, and I'm tired, so I leave Jen at the table and go to get paid.

Important side note: RMT is owned by Canadians, but employed by Koreans. They all speak English, to a greater or lesser degree. In this case, slightly to the lesser.

As I walk over to Andy, a Korean who is also a manager, I notice that there is a drunk guy yelling at him. Now, Andy isn't a big dude by any means. He's about as tall as me and as thick as Eli. But I'm pretty sure he can handle himself, so I just sit back and wait.

If you aren't proud of me for that, by the way, you should be.

After waiting and watching, a few things become clear.

1. Andy can't understand a whole lot of what this guy is saying. Which isn't really Andy's fault, I'm having trouble following.
2. There are a lot of other large drunk men taking a keen interest in this, never a good sign.
3. The drunk guy isn't winding down, he's just building up a head of steam.
4. I'm not getting paid until this is over.

Well, that's enough for me. I walked over to the group now beginning to circle and asked the drunk guy what the problem was. He explained some girl down the bar had just stolen money from him, and if Andy didn't take care of it, then he would... something... I couldn't tell. Addressing the group (but focusing on the gathering men), I explained with a smile that the bar is going to be forced to call the police here if things keep getting so tense. And I didn't know about them, but I didn't want to know what the inside of a South Korean prison looks like. All of the sudden the gathering of guys had no clue who the drunk guy was, and they just wanted to make sure everything was ok, but now they had to go. That dealt with, I went down to girl at the end of the bar, who was happy to explain, with quite a few extra expletives, that she had ordered a pair of shots for her and her friend, and then he had come up and grabbed one off the bar and drank it right in front of her. For some reason, he felt it wise to leave a wad of cash on the bar. The girl decided that would do for payment, and took it. Which led to our current situation.
After some discussion, the girl apologizes to me and pulls out the cash, which she hadn't even bothered to count. Came to about $30, along with... well, let's just say it should have stayed in his wallet.

Anyway, she says she's keeping $10, but gives me the rest of it. I go back and let him know I got his money. He asks me how much I got, insisting she took $100.

I hate drunks.

I smile my very last smile, and tell him that he's wrong. I give him $20, plus his personal effects, and tell him to keep his hands to himself. He proceeds to get in my face and demand his other $80.

As I said, I'd already smiled my last smile. No, I didn't hit him.

I did get back in his face and tell him to take his money and get out of the bar before I tossed him down the stairs (he fell, I saw it). And if he EVER started trouble in this bar again, I'd have the police take him straight to jail. Period. He still had a little fight left in him, but at this point he's only asking for $10, and an escort out (he didn't mean me). Andy gets $10 from the bar and throws an arm around his shoulder, and they almost get to the door when drunky turns suddenly and goes nose to nose with Andy.

Now folks, I'm not a warrior. I know it. But I've been in enough tussles to recognize someone who can hold their own. And folks, Andy could hold his own. He stood there, smiling, as the drunk bathed him in what had to be some horrible breath. I couldn't catch what was said, but when he was done Andy's arm was back around him and they walked to the stairs.

In case you're wondering, Andy wasn't upset at me getting involved. He didn't quite follow what the guy wanted, but he was wanting to know. So I did good.

Overall, it was fun.

But the next one was a bit more intense.

Remember I mentioned the golbi night with our boss?

Here's what happened afterwards.

I am standing outside the restaurant with my boss and his assistant. We're all feeling pretty good. Out of nowhere, and I mean that, three guys come up, and one of them gets directly in my boss's face.

Ok, gotta do that Important Side Note thing again:

1. None of us are sober. In Korean culture, the men drink. Your boss pours you a drink, refusing it is just about the same as slapping him across the face. You take what he offers you. And he's likely to offer you several.
2. My boss is a sweet guy, and wouldn't harm a fly. He's just really happy, and mostly talks about his wife and new baby girl.
3. His assistant makes him look like an American Gladiator.

But back to the action.

Now, in case you're new here, I hate bullies. High school wasn't always kind, and middle school was horrible. As I got bigger, and I was able to deal with them, any patience I had left for bullies vanished. Ten years, a few thousand miles, and a language barrier doesn't change a thing. A bully is a bully is a bully, and they're easy to spot.

However, I don't want to do anything to make my boss look bad. So I decide to make this guy go away, quick and easy. I stepped between him and my boss, and despite the aforementioned language barrier I still managed to get my point across pretty quickly. He decided, like I figured, that this wasn't fun anymore. He and his two buddies wandered around behind the building and into an alley.
Mr. Yea pretended like nothing happened, and so I followed suit. We were laughing together about a minute later when another foreign teacher, one who had a bit more than I, finally heard about what happened. I only know this because he gave a primal yell (yes, really) and tore off around the building after the guy. Three other guys follow, and figuring this was about to go badly I went along. About halfway I realize I'm wearing a backpack containing a brand new laptop. Tuning, I see Jen. I leave the backpack for her, and catch up to the crowd.

Our foreign teacher (we'll call him Mike) is a big dude. Seriously, he's built like Johnny Bravo. He's screaming (in English) at this guy, issuing a long string of threats. His buddies don't seem all that excited at the prospect of helping, seeing as with my arrival they're outnumbered 6 to 3. The look in Mike's eyes makes me a little nervous. He's got at least 60 lbs on the other guy, and while I don't think Mike would have killed him, he could have easily broken a bone or two. The other teachers are trying to talk Mike down, but nothing doing. So I step right between them.

My "Korean prison" speech didn't do much good here. Mike kept trying to shove past me, and the Korean bully, now feeling safer with something separating him from Death, started shoving me into him. After a brief exchange, our boss figures out what's going on and comes running. He is finally able to calm Mike down, and two other teachers walk Mike away. We all follow. Done, right?



Mr. Yea is a little behind me. I glance over my shoulder in time to see this same guy come running full speed at him, stop short, and slap him across the face. At this point, I've started to lose my cool.

I stepped between them again, and shove the bully myself, putting a bit of my weight behind it. He staggers back a few steps, and then comes up and slaps me. It didn't hurt, and somehow I still didn't completely lose it, so all I did was return the slap. Granted, a little harder, but still. We're eye to eye, and some more shoving begins to happen when I hear Mike start yelling something about how I'm not so peaceful now that I'm the one there instead of him (I know, I know, it doesn't make sense). He's not accurate, but I still know my boss is standing there, and he doesn't want a fight. So I stop shoving, and tell him to go home. Then I turn and walk away. Proud of me, right?

Son of a gun charges my boss again.

Now, I'll never be able to do this again. But as he ran past me I managed to catch him in the most perfect half nelson I've ever done. He started struggling, and I cranked that hold until it was hurting him pretty bad. Once that happens, here comes Mike again. Mike barrels back up on us, pulls back and socks the guy in the face. He goes a little limp in my arms, and I put him down, not really happy with this turn of events.

His buddies aren't even close to being involved. But one is on the phone, and the crowd inside is starting to come outside. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to deduce what's about to happen now.

So I start to make my way out. I'm in the back, keeping Mr. Yea in front of me, when the stupid moron goes for one more rush. I don't have the patience for anything fancy. He comes charging blindly, head down. I wrapped my arm around his head and started squeezing.

Now, my headlocks are one of my best holds. I've got decent arms, and I know where to squeeze, having been on the wrong end of them quite a few times. I'm trying to get someone to tell him to stop, no one seems able to translate for me. He stops struggling against me, and I loosen my grip. Then he lunges forward and knocks me on my butt. I'm done. I put all I've got into it.

Now, I need to pause here and clarify that my fellow teachers have not abandoned me here. They're right there with me. I'm not leaving them out on purpose, but in these moments it's hard to keep a close track on what's not directly in front of you. Regardless, I have to give credit where credit is due. The guys here are some tough cookies. If you've got to get into an altercation, these are the guys you want next to you. Not as good as my boys back home, of course, but certainly the next best thing.

So I'm on my butt, this guy still squirming and I'm still squeezing. Along comes Mike, once again, and this time lands an even harder punch right to the top of the head. Our moronic bully finally goes down for the count. I'm not happy about it at all, but we are way past being able to talk about that now. Very quickly I get up, and start trying to find my wife, my backpack, and a taxi. In that order. Mr. Yea steps up, and starts trying to make sure I'm ok. Apparently, most of the girls have only now realized something happened, and are gathering around asking questions (not my wife- more on that in a moment). Basically, just slowing me down.

And here he comes again.

This time, the fight has gone out of him though. He comes up and apologizes to Mr. Yea, and then to me. He starts hugging and shaking hands. I'm WAY past wanting to deal with him, but a cop car chooses that moment to pull into the alley literally just as I leave it. I mean I could have reached out and touched it. But that'd be dumb.

Enter my wife.

I've dated a few girls in my life. Most of them, in a case like this, would have jumped in the middle and tried to stop it. A few would have been angry with me over the whole thing. At least two would have jumped in. One would have hurt someone. But not the woman I married. First she grabbed the backpack, and made sure all the expensive stuff was safe. She had no idea why there was a brawl going on, but she stayed where she could see without getting in the way, and the moment it was clear that it was (finally) over, she had a cab waiting for us. We piled in and made good our escape.

Dear Lord, I love my wife.

And, for the record, she could have taken the bully, hands down. My wife hits hard. I know.

So that's the two tales. I'm not as young as I used to be. I'm not at an age where I really want to fight, but I have to say I also found myself considering things that never crossed my mind before. I was more than a little concerned about Jen, and making sure she was safe. At no point was she in danger, of course, but that never stops me from worrying. But I've always felt that, as a healthy 20-something male that can at least hold his own, I've got a... well, a kind of obligation, to help out where I can in cases like these. But the idea of having a child is a very real one for Jen and I, and what is worth fighting for, and risking, is changing rapidly for me. It's not as black and white as it use to be. As a youth minister I always knew that if danger came to my youth, I'd be there to protect them. Of course, when Danger showed up it was my fault. But that's not the point.

I guess the whole thing has led me to take a look at this corner of myself. I've gone from being bullied to wanting to protect anyone and everyone from bullies, and now that doesn't seem to be as good an idea as it once was. If that police car had been two minutes earlier, while one American was holding down a Korean while another American knocked him senseless, what would have happened? I know that I would have had several Koreans who would have attested to what actually happened, but I can't take risks like that as carelessly as I once did. There are other people counting on me that are just too important.

All that said, I don't think I'd do anything different in either scenario. I don't know how well I've done at explaining it, but the truth is I did what I felt had to be done. Maybe next time I'll let Mike dig his own grave, but maybe not. My help there certainly wasn't asked for, or appreciated, then or later. All part of growing up, I guess.

I ain't as good as I once was...
I got a few years on me now...
But there was a time, back in my prime, when I could really lay it down...
So if you want to fight tonight, well I guess those boys don't look all the tough.
I ain't as good as I once was,
But I'm as good once
As I ever was.
-Toby Keith, "As Good As I Once Was"


Peace.
-Al

Good News: Al Got Photo-Happy

You almost got this blog a week ago. Why?

Well, turns out that with my new schedule Mondays and Fridays are horrible evil days full of misery and pain. All hope disappears in a cloud of despair.

But Wednesdays I have a wicked long break.

If that weren't enough of an inspiration, I also picked up a new camera. Top it off with an old friend's blog inspiring me to be a better writer, and the only thing I was missing was the time to actually write the damn thing.

Lucky for you all, it also turns out she (the old friend) also writes blogs that don't equal the length of a short novel. Viola.

Well, I gave it a shot. But I kept thinking of more and more things to include, and now look what happened... oh well. Onward and upward.

This is our new toothpaste. As you can see, this particular brand is Anti-Calculus. I bought it for this reason, since I also am Anti-Calculus. But we have some differences. The toothpaste takes a much softer stance on Calculus. It's willing to settle for economic sanctions, with the understanding that it will eventually withdraw from the areas of middle school and lower high school. But no timetable. And I'm like 'What the hell?' Mathematics has already proven itself to be evil. Calculus is one of the most evil expressions of an already evil group. I will not settle for less than a total and immediate withdrawal. English and Science classes are too permissive, meanwhile P.E. and Music are paying the price for their apathy. It's sick. Just freakin sick. I know I'm in the minority, but if it were up to me, I'd go straight for it's total annihilation. We can beat around the bush, but in the end it just has to be done.

Jen's not a huge fan of the picture, by the way. But if you all don't realize how absolutely beautiful she is, a better picture of her holding toothpaste won't cure your blindness/bad taste.


So this was funny:
Sometimes I think we should be paying more attention to which folks we let leave the country. They're making us look bad. Recently Jen was walking with a group of the foreign teachers, and one was commenting on how he didn't understand how Koreans don't pay attention to whats going on around them. He went on to hypothesize that perhaps the shape of their eyes limits their peripheral vision.

You can't make this stuff up. You really can't.

Jen's reply was misunderstood, but for the best. He admits, 'jokingly', to being an Asiaist (As in prejudice against Asians). I won't share what I think.

So as you gathered from the last post, Daisii made it safely to South Korea. She and Jen have been running around and having a blast, and as you can see the travel didn't change much. I confess that I have joined them on a misadventure or two. But thanks to the magic of torrents, I also now have a couple hundred old Super Nintendo games on Jen's old laptop. So when the estrogen reaches dangerous levels I have a safe haven. ::phew::







Church is still good. I can't help but getting a little excited when I hear the pastor speak. The cynical part of me supposes that it has to do with the fact that I don't really know him. I still don't have pics of the place, but I'll get them up soon. Cool side note: They have the coolest chairs ever. I confess that I have been distracted by them during service. But seriously, is anyone surprised?









Hey, let's meet some new people!
Sarah and Rob come to us from Canada, a little north of Maine. I didn't know anything lived up there.
Correction: I didn't know anyone would live up there. I thought we had the technology to move away from places like that. They showed up together, but just as friends. Imagine their surprise when they found out they would be living together!
Sounds like they should get a sitcom so we can follow all their wacky hijinks. But they get NOTHING. You're already reading my blog. No backs-ies.



Anyway, here's Sarah with Mark:
















And here's Rob with Jessica. (Seems only fair.)














Wednesday we did a big golbi (Korean BBQ, remember?) night. Plus (our job) paid. I ate too much. Here's some pics.




This is the restaurant. It was a nice place, so I took a picture.

This is Chris and Sophie. Both very cool people. Chris is a sub, Sophie is his girlfriend. She cooks a mean batch of golbi.



This is Mr. Yea. (I have no clue how it's spelled.) He's the general manager for our branch of Plus. Very nice guy, but his English isn't the best.



And here's Jen and I with Moon and Angelica, a few of the Korean teachers. Good times were had by all.


One more picture of Angelica. She's one of the only teachers than doesn't avoid the camera. Which is good, since we had a camera.

Thanks for your comments, by the way. Jen and I love reading them. I've now got it set so that any comments you leave get emailed to me so I can get them quicker. It just makes us happy. So thanks again.

And to reply, yes, I have lost 25lbs and counting. I know a lot of you have been wondering how. Well, here's my secret.

First, spend a few years eating fast food, and drinking too much Coke. Make sure you avoid any serious exercise, and only walk from the front door to the car door. Then move to a country where most of the main dishes are something you don't like (seafood, in my case), be forced to walk everywhere, and strap on 10 or so pounds of stuff in a backpack wherever you go. Just to make sure, though, Korea has no concept of what a "large" is. The biggest cup they offer at McDonalds is about the size of a medium back home. All that, and suddenly you've dropped some poundage.

Seriously though, I feel great. I'm liking the way I look, and I have more energy than ever. I am drinking a LOT more water too. The Korean food is just healthier. But McDonalds and Dunkin Donuts are starting to get big out here, so watch out my skinny Korean friends. Your obesity epidemic is right around the corner...

Ok, I'm going to wrap this one up. I've got 15 other things to share, but I want to get this one up and out. For grins and giggles, I'm going to leave you with 2 pics. The first one is at one of my going away parties, the other is another recent shot.




Ok, one more. Since I'm getting a little cocky, here's an embarrassing photo of my buddy Sam and I. We shaved our heads earlier tonight, and tried to take a picture. It didn't come out as cool as we hoped.




Much love,
Al and Jen

Camera Thieves, Turning 30 Twice, and Other Things I Won't Enjoy

Hello Readers!

Well, where to begin? How about the camera? My camera was stolen about a week ago, and I'm heartbroken. What makes it worse is it was my own damn fault. I wasn't thinking and left it sitting on the table. A $350 camera sitting on a table like it was a freakin' half empty can of coke. Grrrrr....

But let's not dwell. This blog will still not be light on photos, I've got some extras I've been saving, not to mention pics I've snatched from some new friends. You're welcome.

So back home we have water coolers. I know, I know, shocking revelations are just a part of my charm. Well, they are a mandatory part of all Korean businesses. Seems the water isn't all that safe to drink (I'm doubting it. One of our teachers has been drinking it like its... well, water... and hasn't died yet. Though, to be fair, I'm not drinking it myself.)

But that's not the point. Point is, if you go to your water cooler you will occasionally find there are two spouts- a blue one for cold water and a red one for cold water. Not so in fair Korea. The blue one is for chilled iceberg water, and the red one is for water that is so hot it will melt the skin from your bones. It actually is a two step process so that small children are not killed by contact with it.

Yes, I burned myself on it.

But on the plus side, it's fantastic for soup.

Why does everyone feel the need to insist the place they are from is as hot as Florida? Here's the thing: if you're not from THE SUN you're place ain't as hot. Period. Seoul hasn't seen a 9 in the tens digit yet, and we've already hit July. But here's the big difference: when it rains here, the temperature drops. Anyone who lives in Florida can tell you that when it rains in the summer that just means the air becomes almost impossible to breathe. It only gets hotter. What I'm experiencing is like a pleasant autumn.

I'm not bragging, by the way. When you folks back home are enjoying boating in December, I'll be refusing to come out of my apartment. What scares me most is people insisting that Seoul doesn't get that cold, only down to -10 or so. I'm hoping that's Celsius, but that's like hoping the car about to hit you is a small one. No matter what, it's going to suck.

In other news, it turns out that Koreans follow both our Western calendar as well the lunar calendar. Also, everyone is born at the age of 1, not 0. So between these two things it turns out you are a year older, or if you were born around the right time, two years older. I did the math (and by that I mean I had a couple Korean kids figure it out) and it turns out in Korea I'm 29. That means I'll be turning 30 in Korea, only to come back in time to do it again back home.

No, I'm not kidding.

But maybe it's because 30 will be so awesome for me I'll be forced to do it twice in order to avoid exploding with awesomeness.

Don't laugh, I lost an uncle that way.

But not really.

One of my kids ran up to me between classes and gave me what appeared to be a potato chip. I knew better, but I liked her and I was busy, so I tossed it in my mouth.

I don't know at what point someone was eating fish and thought 'Hmmm... we should make this into a chip,' but let me assure you, it was a dark day. Chowing down on this was like taking all the fishy flavor I already couldn't stand and disguising it as a delicious source of cholesterol, then coating it with some powder that, upon contact with my tongue, burrowed itself in so that everything I ate or drank for the next hour tasted a little like fish.

Note to Coca-Cola: Fish Coke isn't a good idea.

The only thing arguably funnier than watching me eat this was about an hour later when I was offered another chip by yet another adorable little Korean child. Feeling very proud of myself, instead of popping it in my mouth, I took a good whiff first.

Snorting fish-flavored powder is a very bad idea.

So, in Seoul recycling is required. We have to sort our trash by cardboard, compost (nope, no garbage disposal), something else, and then some other stuff. If you don't do it, then you'll be fined about $50 USD. Personally, I go for the 'sneak it down at 2 in the morning when no ones looking' method. What can I say? I'm eco-friendly.

My problem isn't that I hate the earth. Well, ok, my problem with THIS isn't that I hate the earth. The thing is, if you're going to pride yourself on your recycling, then you really should look into not littering. It's kinda a problem out here. I was annoyed about it until I noticed that there are virtually no garbage cans around. So folks just kinda toss it.

Thing is, the city is still pretty clean. Every morning at around 4:30 or so an army of little old Koreans take to the streets with funky wheelbarrow looking things. They sweep the streets, literally and figuratively, collecting all the trash and recycling it. Maybe it's what goes for a 401k out here, I don't know. But I will say it'd seem easier to put out garbage cans. But what do I know?

Yes mom, I always carry my trash until I find a garbage can.

Speaking of kids, I was on the subway on a long trip home from some random destination. Jen and I were both exhausted. Across from us is a dad with a fussy little boy that he has managed to calm down and get quiet, much to our relief. But then along comes some random man who starts trying to get the kid to play with him. While the dad is holding his now drooping little boy this older gentleman starts poking the child, rubbing his head, etc. The kid wakes up and starts crying. The dad tried so hard to calm his son down, until the man finally leaves the kid alone and one stop later along comes a woman who does the same thing, with the same result. I watched as it happened no less than 4 times. Dad just smiled an embarrassed smile and tried to soothe the child. This led me to several personal decisions.

1) If you touch my child, and I don't know you, I'll hurt you. Badly.

2) If you wake my fussy child up by poking him, I'll... well, I guess I'll just hurt you. But still with the badly part. WITH GUNS.

Ok, not several. Just two really obvious no-nos.

We found a church! Let me tell you the tale.

We found out about the church through a soldier out at Rocky Mountain Tavern where I was doing my volunteer work. He gave us his info, and we made it out the next week. As Jen and I discussed this development, I had to let her know about a few things that were going to knock this church from contention.

1. First time the pastor starts healing, I'm out.
2. If someone is rolling around on the floor, and they're not on fire, we'll be taking our leave.
3. No snakes.

Ah, God. What a sense of humor you have.

I said nothing about time.

See, growing up the churches I attended were done in an hour flat. If the pastor hit an hour and ten minutes he heard about it. Hit an hour and a half and he'd find boxes for his stuff waiting in his office.

Pastor Hwang apparently has no such conditions on him.

He wasn't a bad preacher. His English was great, and he was passionate. But the man makes me seem terse. He crammed 3 sermons into our hour and a half service, all run together into one very very long diatribe. That's what I get for making demands.
But we're happy with the church, and we're planning on making it a regular deal. More updates on his verbosity as I continue to call the kettle black. Since by reading this it's obvious you are very bored, you can read about our church home here.

Rounding us out, work life is going well. Jen and I are working side by side, finally, so I'm happy about it. There is some frustrating points, mostly due to management issues and the like, but Jen and I are making our way through just fine. We're finally getting to know some of the Korean teachers, which has been wonderful. They're funny, helpful, and great with discipline. I watched one Korean teacher grab a boy by... well, she pinched really hard on this spot just past the bottom of the jaw, kinda under/behind the earlobe. She practically drug him away by it. It was priceless.



Ok, if you just hurt yourself pinching yourself there, you have to post a comment and confess. I'm betting on 6 of you.

...yes, i did it to myself too.

Alright, let's take this puppy home.

By all accounts, sounds like the 4th went well back home! We did ok out here. It was a little depressing, we did think about you all a lot. But we actually had a pretty good time ourselves. 4th of July 2008 found Jen, Daisii, and I in front of a Korean BBQ place drinking Soju with a few other Americans, a Canadian, and a really sweet girl from South Africa. We all toasted the States repeatedly, and laughed and carried on and such. If we couldn't be home, we were thrilled to be there. Here's some pics.

This is Jen, Angel, and I at the restaurant. Yes, the South African girl is white.

Here's Angel and I hitting our amazing sexy faces pose. It's ok if your a little intimidated.

From left to right, Daisii, Ian, Devin (Canadian), Sam, Jen, and Nobody Important.


Alrighty, I'll just throw some more pics at ya and go to bed. Got to be up for that 1:30pm church service. If you've been hearing about the protests, and the occasional violence, fear not. We're perfectly safe. The reports are not exactly accurate, and we've steered clear of the areas where the protests have been happening since they started getting a little more squirrely. I'll be able to write a bit more often now, so I'll get more on it to ya real soon. But rest assured we are fine.

We actually found a decent pasta joint! I wanted to show you the before picture, but I think we all know that wasn't happening...

This thing opens up, and you crawl inside and play the video game. It was kinda fun, but REALLY hot. But it was also free. So I played repeatedly.

This is a car seat for a small child strapped to the back of a small (~120cc) motorcycle. I've got nothing to add.

These are a few of our coworkers. The one on the left got married last weekend, the one in the middle was the one to do that hardcore pinch thing, and I'm really concerned I'm about to crush them both.

This is the greatest thing ever. Period. It's called a Steak VIP Sandwich from a place called Issac's. They take two pieces of bread, a perfectly square shaped... slice... of scrambled eggs (with corn in it), steak (read: mystery meat), shredded white vegetable lookin' stuff, cheese, and two different sauces of unknown origin. I'm pretty sure one is BBQ sauce. The other... no, no clue. French dressing? The color's right.

Point is, it's DELICIOUS. And it's $2. God bless South Korea.

-Al