Vowels

Vowels are an interesting aspect of Hangeul. They are composed of long lines and short lines, verical and horizotal. The long horizontal lines represent Earth's horizon, yin, and the long vertical lines represent man. The short lines represent the sun, yang. They used to be dots, but were translated to short strokes when writing with a brush, and they eventually replaced the traditional dots.

The vowels are divided into bright, dark, and neutral categories, depending on where the short stroke (sun) is located, if present. If the short stroke is to the right of (in the east) or above (above the horizon) the long stroke, the vowel is bright. If it is to the left of (in the west) or below (below the horizon) the long stroke, it is dark. The two vowels with only a long stroke are considered neutral, even though the one that is only a horizontal stroke (the horizon) is technically dark. This all matters when conjugating verbs and otherwise inflecting words. Dark vowel words are only followed by dark vowel suffixes, etc.

Here's a breakdown of the vowels:

ㅏ
"A" sound, as in "father"
Long vertical line, short horizontal line to the right (a man standing before the rising sun)
Romanized as "a"

ㅓ
Short "o" sound, as in "hot"
Long vertical line, short horizontal line to the left (a man standing before the setting sun)
Romanized as "eo"

ㅗ
Long "o" around, as "boat"
Long horizontal line, short vertical line above it (the sun over the horizon)
Romanized as "o"

ㅜ
Long "u" sound, as in "mute"
Long horizontal line, short vertical line below it (the sun below the horizon)
Romanized as "u"

ㅣ
Long "e" sound, as in "feet"
Long vertical line (a man)
Romanized as "i"

ㅡ
Sort of short "u" sound, kind of like in "put"
Long horizontal line (the horizon)
Romanized as "eu"

Hangeul doesn't have a letter "y" like we do, but they do have a sound for it. This is accomplished by adding a short stroke to the first four vowels above, adding the "y" sound to the beginning:

ㅑ
"ya"

ㅕ
"yeo"

ㅛ
"yo"

ㅠ
"yu"


Hangeul also has numerous diphthongs (the combinations above are technically iotized vowels). These two were originally diphthongs, but have become pure vowels over time. They also originally had distinct sounds, but over the last couple generations have come to both sound like short "e." Mostly only the older generations can tell the difference now.

ㅐ
"ae" = ㅏ a + ㅣ i

ㅔ
"e" = ㅓ eo + ㅣ i

These two vowels can also be given an extra stroke to add the "y" sound:


ㅒ
"yae"

ㅖ
"ye"

The same goes for the "w" sound as it does for "y" as evidenced with these diphthongs:

ㅘ
"wa" = ㅗ o + ㅏ a

ㅝ
"wo" = ㅜ u + ㅓ eo

ㅙ
"wae" = ㅗ o + ㅐ ae

ㅞ
"we" = ㅜ u + ㅔ e

ㅟ
"wi" = ㅜ u + ㅣ i

ㅢ
"ui" = ㅡ eu + ㅣ i

ㅚ
"oe" = ㅗ o + ㅣ i (This one doesn't get Romanized with a "w," but it sounds like there is one.)

The cool thing about Korean (and other not-English languages) is that the vowels make the same sound, one sound, every time. You don't have to memorize fifteen different combinations of vowels that all make the same sound. Some of the diphthongs make similar sounds, but in order to read and pronounce them, all you have to do is break them down into the vowels that built them and you've got it.

Hangeul, the Korean System of Writing

Hangeul, which means "great script" and "Korean script," was invented by King Sejong around 565 years ago. It was described in an official document released on October 9, 1446; the anniversary of that day is celebrated as Hangeul Day. I don't get that day off. Prior to the invention of Hangeul, Koreans used a Sino-Korean hanja system, using script and words borrowed from the Chinese language.

Hangeul is divided into syllables, each one of which fits into a square (the square is not drawn, of course). There are no more than four letters per syllable, and no fewer than two. Words and syllables cannot begin with vowels in this script, so a silent letter precedes any vowel that is at the beginning of a syllable. Double consonants within the same syllable are somewhat rare in Korean, relative to English, and can only come at the end of the syllable. When two consonants are put together, only one is pronounced, unless the next syllable begins with a vowel. In that case, the second consonant sound is carried over orally, to begin the next syllable.

Example: the root of the conjugated form of the verb "to sit" is pronounced "an-ja," but the "j" sound is actually in the first syllable, so the romanized version would look like this: anj-a.

The script reads from left to right, then top to bottom, as with English writing, but it can also be read top to bottom, right to left. The former is the preferred modern method of writing, but the latter is the traditional way to write, as influenced by Chinese writing.

Linguists find this written language quite interesting. It was invented with specifical goals in mind. The major goal was to create a writing system that the common man could learn and use easily. When the Chinese hanja system was the only writing available to Koreans, it was mostly only members of the aristocracy who could write, because it was such a difficult task to learn. Once Hangeul was released, it was opposed by scholars who didn't want to lose their high status, but it nonetheless was quickly assimilated into popular culture and the country became literate fairly quickly.

The letters of Hangeul are so easy to learn that it is said "A wise man can acquaint himself with them before the morning is over; a stupid man can learn them within the space of ten days." When I took Korean language classes in LA, the first quarter was devoted solely to learning Hangeul. A quarter was ten weeks long, with classes meeting one night a week for two hours. So, the first class and last class being devoted primarily to placement testing, class organization, fun activities, and ceremonies, it took sixteen hours to learn the whole alphabet and how to read anything written in Hangeul, even if I don't understand it. Not too shabby.

The history of the shapes of the letters is quite interesting, and partly why linguists are fascinated by the system, but I'll have to save that explanation for another day. Stay tuned.

Children

I have never seen so many children as I have in this place. There are children EVERYWHERE. It doesn't matter where I go, or what time it is. Kids get up early and stay up late (thanks to the superstudent education system), so there's no time of day I haven't seen them swarming the streets, restaurants, and stores. Even when I think they're supposed to be in school, they're all over the streets. I still haven't quite figured out the school schedules here.



Before I worked at a school in LA, I would literally go months without seeing a single child. Actually, I think I figured something out from coming here. Angelenos don't actually procreate: they just replenish their massive population by enticing people to move there with eversunny weather and the film industry.



I think the family unit is much stronger here than it is in the US (or at least, where I've lived), so instead of leaving the kids home while they go out, parents take their kids along with them WHEREVER they go. Koreans also work longer hours at school and at their jobs, so they really work hard at relaxation when they have free time. Thus, family field trips.

Things I Don't Miss

Driving, and paying for gas. That's for the birds.

Soda made with high fructose corn syrup. I've noticed that soda tastes infinitely better outside the US, I assume because it's made with real cane sugar.

Having to leave my apartment to do laundry, and having to pay for it. Apartments come with their own laundry room and washing machine here.

City noise. In Koreatown, I was constantly bombarded with sounds of car alarms, people yelling or partying, cars honking (or crashing), sirens, and loud music. Here, the only sounds I hear at night are the occasional cats yowling or fighting. In the morning, I sometimes hear the produce trucks with their loudspeaker recordings screaming out what they're selling, but they usually don't start until a little bit before I get up.

Understanding the commercials. They're so much less annoying when you don't know what's being said.

Having to pay utility bills and rent. Here, each month, the amounts for my flat apartment management fee, my cell phone bill, and my internet bill are just taken out of my paycheck. And my rent is free, of course.

Commuting to work. At the job I was working before I came here, I drove 35-40 minutes to and from work each day. Total distance: SIX MILES. Here, I walk to work. It takes three minutes.

Having to talk to other people all the time. I do have to talk all day to my students, which kills me, but other than that, I don't have to converse much. The language barrier has its advantages.

High priced movie tickets. It's not super cheap here, but it's cheaper than in LA. I pay about seven dollars for a ticket here, and I just found out last night, that although they don't seem to have matinee prices here, they do have, let's call them "nuit," prices for late night shows. Only 5 dollars.

Vacuuming.

Things I Miss

Couch, or at least armchair. Something to sit on that doesn't require me to put a pillow behind me or under me.

Living in an apartment that doesn't smell like sewage two or three times a day for 30-60 minutes.

The Daily Show, even though I never got to watch it back home. I see commercials for it on CNN sometimes, and man, that show is so funny.

Knowing about company events before they happen, and knowing which days I get off ahead of time. We had an open house kind of event for the parents of our students, and I wasn't told about it until the day before, and was told nothing about what the event was. My boss called it a "seminar" and I thought it was a teacher workshop that involved us learning how to be better teachers. Boy, was I wrong. Additionally, Korea has many "holidays," but we don't get all of them off. I rarely know for certain which upcoming holiday I'm getting off.

Getting Monday off in honor of a holiday that falls on a Saturday or Sunday, or holidays that always fall on a certain day. They don't do that here, so we miss out on a lot of days off.

Being able to buy dairy products at a reasonable price. A quart of milk costs as much as I used to pay for a half gallon. Cheese is so outrageously priced that I get government cheese from Kent. Ice cream is ridiculous, too, and they don't have chocolate, anyway. They do have neopolitan ice cream for a decent price, but the quality isn't very good, and I don't like vanilla, so it makes me angry to buy it. I still do, though.

Wheat bread. They have wheat bread here, but it's like, gourmet. It costs twice as much to get a tiny loaf of wheat bread (not just tiny as in fewer pieces, but tiny as in the size of each slice, too) as it does to get a giant loaf of white bread, which has about three times as much bread.

Really, buying affordable food in general--dairy, bread, peanut butter, jelly, spaghetti sauce, pasta, most fruits and vegetables, butter, eggs, juice, canned soup (which I don't buy), cereal, even all the Korean food I buy like mandu and seafood patties are all two to four times what I'd pay in the US. Pretty much the only food that doesn't cost and arm and a leg is rice. My apartment actually came with rice. I haven't touched it.

Not having to take my work home with me. I've greatly reduced the amount of it I take home with me, so now I only take home homework to correct on Friday, but that usually means I give back homework a day late. Oh, well.

Not having to strongly enunciate in order to be understood.

Bedsheets and pillowcases. They use one thin quilt (not fitted) as a bottom sheet, and the only covering is the bedspread. Pillowcases are replaced by frilly pillow shams.

A dresser and closet. I have to put my clothes on shelves and hang my button down shirts and dresses on my drying rack.

Counter space.

Instant access to hot water. Here, you have to turn on the hot water and wait for it to warm up.

The rest of my wardrobe. I didn't have much room to bring clothing and such, since a lot of my suitcase space was spent on toiletries that they either don't have here, or which are really expensive. Consequently, I'm wearing pretty much the same clothes all the time, even though I have bought a few more shirts since I've been here.

Affordable toiletries. I didn't bring enough facial wash and moisturizer to last me the year. A bottle of Clearasil costs over 13 bucks. Man. Korean products aren't as bad, but are still a bit pricey.

Shower stall or curtain. Korean showers are just part of the rest of the bathroom, and pretty much wet all the time. I have to use a rag to wipe off my toilet seat and cover in case I want to use the toilet in the next five hours.

Trash cans with covers.

My Mac. This PC is bullshit.

Being able to call any number or go anywhere or read any sign without needing a translator. I try to practice my limited Korean skills whenever I can, though.

Dad's massive TV.

My yoga studio in LA. The yoga here just doesn't cut it. I'm changing studios this week, though, to a more traditional hatha yoga studio that Heather found. It's cheaper, too.
Probably more stuff, too, but I'll do this again in a couple months.

Public Urination

One day a couple months ago I was at the park, sitting by a big Greek theatresque structure, which had a nonfunctioning fountain at the base. There were a ton of kids playing around the area, as always, and as I looked at one little boy playing on the steps, I saw a funny sight. Ever so nonchalantly, he pulled down his pants a little and took a piss right on the steps. Then he pulled up his waistband again and went on with his play.

Tonight as I walked out of the building I work in, I saw another little boy standing outside a parked car with one of the back doors open. His pants were around his ankles and he was, for some reason, pulling his shirt all the way up past his chest. It was dark, and I thought it would be rude to keep looking right at him at such close proximity, but I'm pretty sure he was also peeing. Right at the car, too. There was someone I assume was his grandmother sitting in the seat next to the open door, who noticed a lot of people were now coming out of this and other buildings, so she hurried him up, starting to pull him back toward the car. As I got past the car, I started laughing, and so did his grandmother. I wonder if this practice segues into sleazy adult public urination, or if they curb it by adolescence...

No pictures this time. Sorry.

Oriental Medicine

After finding my Korean-Western hybrid doctor incompetent and deciding to forego that BS, my boss convinced me to go to the Oriental hospital, which is right next to the clinic I went to for my neverending colds and allergies and such. There are like a million hospitals around here.

I was hesitant to go to this Oriental hospital because I know that guys are all into the acupuncture. I went to acupuncture in LA and was treated by an acupuncturist who came very highly recommended (although he was white, booooo). Let me tell, you I've never had a worse medical experience, and probably the only other experience worse than that acupuncture was incurring the herniated cervical disc that the acupuncture was trying to cure. I went five times. The first time it wasn't so bad, but each time after that got steadily worse, until I was crying from the pain each time one of the maaany needles went in. I still have nightmares (not really).

Anyway, Heather told me I didn't have to do acupuncture (liar), but the doctor could just feel me up (not her words) and be able to tell what was wrong. So I went. He did feel me up, and told me (well, Heather, since he doesn't speak English) that the problems in my arms and legs are not the same problem. How bizarre. The symptoms and time of onset are the same...

He said the problem with my elbow is like tennis elbow, but clearly not tennis elbow, since that's accompanied by pain, and all I get is numbness. Heather couldn't explain the problem with my legs in English (could he in Korean?), but she eventually told me something like my legs are retaining water. When you push down on my skin, the skin stays indented for a long time. That's not normal? So she says it's not the fat in my legs that's keeping the impression there, but water. I don't get it.

I agreed to be treated both from desperation and curiosity about the experience. The doctor said it's a damn good thing I got to him when I did. They can't cure this in the US. I had to see him three times a week for at least two weeks. Here is the regimen:

1) Acupuncture for fifteen minutes. Three to four needles in my forearms and three to six needles in my calves. This was significantly less than what LA acupuncturist was putting in me, so it was much better (although sometimes a bit jarring). Clips were attached to several of the needles and electricity was run through me. I was not a fan of this. Sometimes the electicity increased, so much that my hands would start jumping around. No one speaks any English around there, and it was really hard to communicate what amount of electricity was right to begin with, and which part of me was getting too much later.

2) As at the other hospital, suction cups were attached to my arms (but also to my legs this time), and electricity again was passed through me for fifteen minutes. Those suction cups leave wicked marks.

3) Now begins the fun part. After electricity, I turned around and put my ankles on this machine with like ankle stirrups and my legs got shaken for five minutes.

4) Another five minutes in the massage chair, like the ones at Brookstone. This thing was heavy-duty. I really felt like someone was pounding and kneading my back. No wonder they're so expensive.

5) At home, I had to take three doses a day of what is probably the nastiest medicine ever created. It was really terrible. And expensive. I'm too embarassed to say how much I paid for it, so don't let the curiosity burn deep within you. I seem to have gotten a free nylong bag out of the deal, though.

Here's the medicine and medicine bag:

I had to boil the medicine, let it cool, and drink it a half hour after eating. I'm really not sure if I had to boil it to make it work, or if I was boiling it to make it less nonpalatable. I did notice it was better when hot than when cold. I had to drink it cold at work, and boil it before I went in. Yuck. A lot of my students knew exactly what it was and told me about their experiences with it. Funny.

The result? After two weeks of all that, the doctor told Heather I wasn't cured (he showed her the pushing in my skin trick), because Western people's skin is thinner than Asian people's skin. I'd have to do another two weeks, or more. Screw that. I thought I felt better for like two days at the end of the treatment, but I think that was just coincidence. As long as I don't sit still too long or put weight on my body, my limbs don't fall asleep. I may just not have been exposing myself to unfavorable conditions during those two days.

Heather "leally" wants me to go back, because she thinks American doctors actually can't fix me. She's going to try and see if she can get a discount on the medicine. We'll see how that goes.

THE TOMSTORY

I saw this on one of my students' t-shirts a couple weeks ago, but haven't had time to put it on the blog. Naturally, I stopped class to copy this down, which of course led to questions about what the hell I was doing. So I explained to them about Engrish and how funny it is to us. They didn't quite understand, being like 7 years old and all, but I think they soooooort of got something about what I was saying. I think it boggles their mind as much as ours that something like a t-shirt or a sign could have bad English on it, since it's made professionally, but they don't have the grasp of English to realize anything is wrong, so they don't exactly believe me.

By the way, I referred to it as "bad English" to them, too, and they thought I meant "bad words." Before they got all excited about a first-grader's shirt with swear words on it, I had to explain to them that I meant "wrong English."

Wear the Love
Love is wearing THE TOMSTORY with your family. "When I remind of our family love. Love is beloning to someone who really loves you. Love is taking time out to be with the family. Love is wearing THE TOMSTORY with your family
Love is beloning to someone who really loves you.

I don't know what THE TOMSTORY is, but I assume it's the brand of clothing. That's kind of sick.

Last Day in Byeonsan Bando

After we left Jikso Waterfall in the midafternoon sometime, we were only a few kilometers from the park entrance. The plan was to hike back towards the entrance, via the path we had seen on the way to Jikso, and get close enough to make leaving the park the next day an easy task. This would allow more time to make sure we got to the bus station in Jeonju in time to catch a bus home. Kent could take any number of buses going to his area of Korea, but there are only four buses to Ulsan from Jeonju, and they stop early--the last one is at 5:00.

Things didn't work out quite as we had wanted, though. The trail back to the entrance was so easy that it only took about an hour to finish it. Furthermore, we couldn't find any camping spots along the way. Although the trail was flat, all the area around it was at a steep incline, or too densely wooded, or too close to the main trail. We saw a tiny trail going downward, and took it, thinking it would lead us to a field we could kind of see below. It just led us to a road on the border of the park. After walking along that road for a few minutes, we found we were at the entrance we were trying to avoid getting to that day.

Going back into the park seemed like bad idea by then, since we might not find a spot by dark. The best option at this point was to go to Seokpo Camping Park, which had been our backup plan in the event we could not find a place to camp. So we walked back toward the road we took to get to the park originally, and found the entrance.

Although we had passed the camping park on the way to the park the day before, we didn't look past the sign. One would expect there to be a road leading into the park, with some sort of entrance booth along the way, leading to what we think of as a camping park, with places to pitch tents or park RVs (I doubt they have those here, though), small buildings for bathrooms, etc. We found something entirely different, though.

The sign pointed into the base of what looked like an elementary school playground. The school was on the far end of the playground. Instead of a road, though, there was a military-style obstacle course. Passing by, I had seen it, but had assumed it was playground equipment and didn't give it more than a cursory glance. It seemed like the camping park wasn't a public park, but a military facility. There went that idea.

The only option now was to get a motel. I had seen one as we had walked through Gomso, so we continued our trek back into town. We ended up spotting a nicer looking motel than the one I saw, perched at the end of a small peninsula, so we went there. It was quite expensive for a small-town motel: 70,000 won (about $70). The place was relatively nice, but small, and the bedspread smelt like mothballs, which made the whole place smell like mothballs. We had a balcony, but of course it looked back into the town. We did not get a view of the water.

Completely exhausted, we just ate supper from what was left of our camping food instead of going to a restaurant. The next day we slept until ten. I was still pretty wiped out, having not gotten any sleep on Friday night. But we made our way out of the motel and to the bus stop to start the trip home.

We waited for the city bus for about 15 or 20 minutes, and it was about 30-40 minutes to get to the Buan bus terminal. The bus didn't actually drive into the terminal, but the driver told us where to get off. We didn't really know where we were, so we got a little lost and had to ask a taxi driver where the bus terminal was. As it turns out, we just had to walk about a couple hundred feet the left of where we were dropped off, but we had gone straight, because there was a long line of buses parked along the street there.

Once in Jeonju, I was told that the two remaining buses to Ulsan that day were full, and the next bus didn't go out until 9 the next morning, which wouldn't get me back to Ulsan in time for work. I almost flipped out for a minute there, but then the lady said there was a bus at 3:00 to Busan, which is the nearest big city to Ulsan. From there I was able to easily get a bus home. They go every ten minutes.

So that's my adventure in Byeonsan Bando. It was a lot of fun, with very few hiccups. It was a good substitute for the island I had wanted to go to, Ulleung-do. I hope to do more backpacking soon.

Jikso Waterfall

After climbing down some muddy trails, stairs, and rock piles, we arrived at Jikso Waterfall, one of the most popular sites in Byeonsan Bando. I believe it's a 30 meter fall. There is a pool at the base with clear, green water. It's quite nice. Had the water not been so cold, I would have gone swimming.











I did manage a wade, though.





The rocks were quite slippery, so I had to kind of crawl out into the water and back.





The pool flows into a little creek, which flows through a wooded area (as if the whole park isn't wooded).

The creek flows into this much smaller fall:





Here's a little more perspective on its size:





After that tiny fall, the creek widens into a bigger fall (you can see the dropoff below):






I did a little climbing about on the rocks:









Here's the third waterfall:






We saw some frogs about. We played with them. They did not mind being touched and petted, but they were not into being captured.

Byeonsan Bando Day Two: The Daytime Trek

After a pretty much sleepless and cold night, with a little rain in the very early morning, there was a moment of hearing just the sounds of the crickets and other bugs, then BIRRRDSOOOONNNGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! About fifty million birds all started chirping at once, including cuckoo birds, which is still funny to think about.

We started hearing people now and then maybe a couple hours after dawn, and we got up at 8:30 to break camp. We had to do that before breakfast, just in case we got caught. Stopping off the trail for breakfast probably would have been more forgiveable than camping overnight. After everything was broken down and picked up, good ol' packaged oatmeal, and a can of pineapple. Then it was off toward Jikso Waterfall, only 2.9 km away. We were planning to take a leisurely hike (although me still working all sorts of muscles I never knew I had) to the waterfall, hang out, then hike toward another entrance booth and camp before we got to the end. That way, there would be less distance to travel to get back into civilization and onto buses home the next day.

The first half of the hike was a lot of staircases like this:





There were also a lot of steep and not-as-steep rocky, rooty, and a little muddy inclines, as well as one three-story metal staircase. With rail. That was nice, but man, all the climbing we'd already done by the time we got to it...

We had to climb across a few rock faces like this one:


I almost fell down on my back like a stupid turtle on one of them, because I forgot to keep leaning forward while I was standing on the incline. But Kent blocked me. That would have sucked. I was right near a cliff, too. Ooooohhhhhh...

At some point the trail started to lose altitude fast, and it was frustrating slash rewarding to know that we had to do all the climbing up and down to get to where we needed to be. I guess that's the nature of the beast.

Around halfway there we reached a crossroads with a way to the waterfall and a way to one of the entrance booths. There were a few groups of people here. By this time we had talked to a few people on the trail, including a Kiwi who stayed at the Naeso-sa Temple, an old Korean dude who used to live in the US who kept us from going up the wrong path (twice), and here at the crossroads, a group of Koreans who didn't really speak much English, but who were clearly asking us if we were camping at the park. These were really the only Koreans who seemed to understand what we were doing. Which reminds me, we met a Korean lady who spoke English at the Buan Bus Terminal who asked us if we were camping, and then told us "it's not that kind of park." Ha ha. Silly Korean noncamper.

And speaking of Korean noncamping, apparently many Koreans have a deep curiosity about the foam our sleeping mats were made of. Kent said that as he walked through the air base with them, a number of Koreans stopped to fondle it. And when we stopped for a few minutes at the crossroads (below-nice view, eh?), a Korean dude went out of his way to come over to me and touch the mat on my pack. Weird.




After that point, the trail became almost totally flat and easy, and when we were almost to the waterfall, we came upon a little waterfall flowing into a little river. Here's me after having climbed off the big rock crossing to get closer to the waterfall:



We had lunch on the rock I'm sitting on. That was probably the coolest place I've ever had lunch.

Here is the creek to the right of the falls:



And to the left:




Here's me sticking my feet into the dropoff in between the two last pictures. The water was pretty cold, like the ocean in Maine:



After lunch it must have been only about a half hour to get to the falls. The trail was totally flat by then, and quite easy. Toward the end of the trail to the waterfall, we started seeing some cool cliff faces:

And had to cross alongside one or two of them:

Sometime mid-afternoon, we reached the falls. To be continued...

Byeonsan Bando National Park, Day One

Friday, June 6 was Memorial Day in Korea, so I got the day off. This was my last three day weekend until mid-August, and I don't get summer vacation until the end of July, so I had to make this one last. I went backpacking in Byeonsan Bando National Park with my friend Kent. The park is in Jeollabuk-do, a province on the west coast, and the park is directly west of Ulsan. I took the bus and it takes a couple transfers to get to where I wanted to be from here.

The first leg was a four and a half hour bus trip from Ulsan to Jeonju. Heather and her husband dropped me off at the Express Bus Terminal, which was nice, since lugging a huge backpack on a city bus to get there would have sucked.

Since I had drank a cup of juice, 3/4 cup of awful oriental medicine, and a bowl of soup for breakfast that morning (it was pretty much the only food I had), I knew it wise to stop in the bathroom before we left. But once wasn't enough, apparently. I felt the urge just ten minutes later, right before we left. There wasn't time. Korean buses don't have lavatories on them, either. They just make stops at rest areas every couple hours. So I had to hold it. Let me tell you, I almost died. Never have I had to piss so bad and had to hold it so long. It was two hours and twenty minutes before we stopped, and I bolted off the bus. I was sweating and almost crying, and I ended up sitting up at the front of the bus, on the floor next to the bus driver, so I wouldn't have to wait for anyone to get out of my way. I'm pretty sure my bladder almost exploded.

After that, the second half of that leg was fine, except for some minor abdominal pain that went away after a while.

Once in Jeonju, I met up with Kent and had a little lunch. Jeonju is supposed to have some of the best food in the country. It was pretty good, but nothing particularly special. I had more soup, haha. Only because there was a picture of this soup I really like on one of the restaurant fronts, and I knew the next bus ride was only an hour and twenty minutes.

That leg was from Jeonju to Buan. Buan is a small town, and the closest major place to the park. From there, we bought a bus ticket to a little place called Gomso, on the southern tip of Byeonsan Bando. We waited for a while, and then Kent decided to ask one of the drivers when our bus would come (by showing him the ticket). The bus driver gave him an answer that either meant the bus was coming in an hour or at 10:10pm. Either way, we didn't want to wait. We still had to hike into the park from Gomso and find a camping spot off the trail.

So we took a taxi. The driver drove us for about a half hour and dropped us off at the bus station, I think. We had joked that Gomso was going to be a store, a restaurant, a school, a post office, and six houses, but it was a decent size town. Old looking. We figured out which direction to walk to get to a park entrance and started. We hit one dead end, where I took this picture:






That's the park in the background. Everyone who saw us in this town stared at us. Not only were we white folk, we were white folk carrying around massive backpacks in the middle of town for some reason.

On the way there, once we were out of the main part of town, we saw this kiln site (with graves), across from a farm with lots of barking dogs. I forgot what the name of it was, but here it is:



We finally got to the park entrance sometime in the evening. Maybe around 5:30 or 6. We walked onto the main trail, but found a smaller trail shortly thereafter and took that one. The point was to find a place far enough off the trail that we could actually pitch a tent and sleep without being bothered. Koreans don't really camp, so we had the element of doing the unexpected on our side. Less chance of getting caught, and even if we were caught, we're just stupid foreigners. I did notice there was a place called Seokpo Camping Park just inside the park, which we passed on the way to the entrance, but we were using that as a backup plan if we couldn't find any place ourselves.

So on the smaller trail, we ended up going off it and just roaming through a bunch of thick flora and not really getting anywhere except into a riverbed that soon started to have a stream in it. So that was a bust. We found another small trail and it led up a mountain that almost killed me. I realized partway up that I haven't climbed anything since I was a kid. I think it's been like fifteen years. So I was almost dead by the time we got up to the top. We would go up the path a bit, and it would turn off, and then we'd get to where we could see around the bend, and yep, more steep climbing. I was already tired. But we ate some GORP and crackers on the way up and took a couple rest stops for a couple minutes and made it to the top. We saw this pile of rocks on the way up:



Is it a grave, or some other special site? We just don't know. But it's a pretty cool pile of rocks.

Upon reaching the peak, we saw a small wooden fence blocking off another smaller trail to the left, and the sign pointed people to the right. So naturally going over the fence was the better idea. Not too far into the prohibited trail was a pretty great camping spot, so we took it and started setting up camp.

Here is me at the peak of that mountain:



Here is our camp, complete with a lead-rope to the "bathroom" for night trips, just in case:



This is a little clearing where we did our cooking and eating, next to the clearing with the tent (with bear-bag below):



This is a view from our campsite:



Not too shabby. The reason this trail was fenced off of course was that it was right next to a massive dropoff. The bear bag in the picture above was hanging right over a big crevasse, which was scary to go near, so Kent had to put up and take down the bear bag himself. Screw that.

But don't worry, we tented far enough for there to be no danger of falling off, and the rope was there to lead us in the dark (we didn't even end up using it, though).

It was freezing Friday night. I was so cold I didn't even really sleep. It also rained a little bit, but not enough to cause a problem. Our bags were covered in a poncho, and the bottoms weren't even wet the next morning. Except for the not sleeping and being cold part, it was a pretty good camping experience, my first time camping without a campground.

Dance With Us, GIR. Dance With Us into Oblivion...

President Lee Myung-bak, who came into office shortly after I came to Korea, recently decided to lift a ban on importing American beef. This ban was in effect since 2003, when a (Canadian born) cow in Washington was discovered to have mad cow disease. Since then there have been two other cases in the US.

Limited US beef import was allowed starting last year, when stricter regulations were put into effect, but even that was stopped when bone fragments were discovered in some shipments. Golly.

Despite assurances from both President Lee and President Bush that our beef is safe, the people are still stricken with fear that they're all going to die from mad cow disease. Some current affairs show told everyone that Koreans are more susceptible to the disease, and they questioned the safety of US beef. This was announced by medical officials to be a false claim, but the damage wasn't really repaired. Most people seem to think that Lee has sold out to Bush and is trying to curry American favor by lifting the ban. The people have taken to protesting, almost daily now, and are demanding Lee's removal from office. They've succeeded in getting him to delay the agreement with the US twice.

I saw a protest in early May, outside the Lotte Department Store, and another one in the same place about a week ago. There were a few hundred people there, with candles, posters put up everywhere, big cutouts of cowheads with an American flag pattern and crazy-looking facial expressions. It was pretty organized. There was a stage with a sound system, along with lots of vans and traffic direction.

The protests in Seoul are much bigger, but the atmosphere seems the same, from what I can tell from the news. It's mostly just candlelight, chants, and songs. Some people have been beaten up by riot police, but nothing major.

It's surprising to see this much of a reaction. They're not really considering how much beef Americans eat and how we don't die from it. Korean protesters interviewed for tv and newspapers are saying they're afraid their children will die from eating beef in a restaurant. They're demanding their new president, who won by a landslide, step down over this, but aren't too concerned over the falling economy and recent squabbling with North Korea.

Jeez, get a life.

Range of English Knowledge

At my school, and I assume other private English academies here, children get tested to determine what level class they should enter as they enroll. It seems to me that these tests aren't very effective. I have at least one or two kids in several of my classes who can't put a sentence together, or even a semblance of a sentence, while others in the same class are writing whole paragraphs and stories that pretty much make sense and that have only minor errors. It's really hard to teach to groups like that.


Here is an example. The assignment was to write a short story using sequence words "first," "next," "then," and "last," and to elaborate in between to make the story longer than four sentences and more interesting. This is in a class at level C1 (out of 2), which I think, is a third grade level for native speakers. This is what one kid wrote:



of farst is and Next and last is it
or samtimes many differeurnt or farst
Next last is we are make is it
and coud sosoantime camel of this
it. camel hoses cam citen cat
cat an farst Next last have it
we pepol to. have it farst Next
last. We coudn't heve one day
live in here and die or today
times qacrouck camel to on life


It's pretty poetic, actually. This is what most of his homework looks like. I told him that he shouldn't vomit language onto the paper, and that he should get help from me or another teacher if he doesn't understand the homework, but they never do that.

This is what another kid in the same class wrote:

First, The Mrs. McNoch have big pump seed.
Next, the pump grow same as a soccer ball.
Then Mrs. McNosh have soccer.
Last, the Mrs. Mcnosh is happy.

We had just read a story called "Mrs. McNosh and the Great Big Squash" about a woman who grows a squash as big as a house, who then digs it out and lives in it. I'm not sure if he misunderstood the homework and thought he was supposed to retell the story (the kids have trouble remembering the word "squash," but I mentioned pumpkin when trying to explain it, and they know that one), or if he was just being lazy and decided to rip off the story. Either way, the sentences are his own and they are easy to understand, albeit with a number of errors.

Pohang

Friday, June 6th is Memorial Day here in Korea, so I get a three day weekend. This will be my last day off until my vacation in late July, I believe. I had planned to go to an island called Ulleung-do with my friend from the air force. It's off the east coast, and the closest ferry to it leaves from Pohang, which is an hour and twenty minute bus ride from here. Ulleung is supposed to be not extremely touristy, but touristy enough that there are a few places to stay. It's a three or three and a half hour ferry ride from Pohang, depending on which ferry you get (I think only two go per day). There are hiking trails, waterfalls, beaches, rock formations, stuff like that. It's a good place to get away from it all.

We decided to go to Pohang this weekend to get the ferry tickets in advance, because the ferry might be full if we just went on Friday, it being a holiday weekend and all. So we took the bus over there, and got our bearings, sort of, at the Pohang bus terminal. We guessed at the direction the ferry terminal would be in, since the only maps we had were from my guidebook and not very specific. It's hard to read streets maps in Korea, anyway, because their address system is not like ours, nor do they give directions in the same way, so street names are not as important, and many streets aren't labeled.

We knew the terminal was at least two miles away, based on the vague map, but we figured sine it was a nice day and a new place to see, we'd walk it and see how we fared. We started seeing street signs after a bit, so we ended up getting there without getting lost. We walked through a big market with food, clothing, and other wares on the way. It took almost two hours to get there, so even though we weren't walking all the fast, I think it was a bit more than two miles from the bus terminal to the ferry terminal. Good exercise.

When we got inside the terminal, it was like a ghost town. It was a really clean and polished placed, with lots of waiting chairs, nice restrooms, and even a reading room (with a wall of filled bookshelves). But no employees at their posts. And no bells to call them. We kind of hung around for a few minutes looking at the schedules and fares on the wall, hoping maybe someone would come out from taking a break or something, but nothing happened. We thought about calling the number listed on the wall, but I was afraid they wouldn't speak English enough. I had written down a few key Korean words in order to communicate what we wanted and was hoping for the best. I hadn't expected there to be no one around.

Finally I decided to impose on the office I had seen when I went to the restroom. There was a guy in there working on a computer, and it didn't seem like he would be able to sell us tickets, but he could at least go get someone. I memorized the word for "ticketing" from the sign, and went in there and said it with the standard "confused foreigner" look. He got up and brought me over the the counter and went to find someone who could speak English. I asked him if we could buy tickets to Ulleung-do for Friday, and he said, "This Friday, June 6? Oh, no, that's been full since two months ago. It's a holiday weekend, you know."

Thwarted. We have now concluded that Koreans plan ahead. Way ahead. Which means, of course, that pretty much any other place we wanted to go will be full by now, too. We brainstormed for a while and decided that camping might be the only viable option, since the ground doesn't fill up, per se. We ended up choosing Byeonsan Bando National Park to try. That's about a six hour bus ride from me, with two transfers, I think. It's on the west coast, at about the same latitude at Ulsan, but there are no direct roads or train routes. I'm not even sure if that's going to work out, since I don't know if you can buy bus tickets in advance. I'm going to have to check on that.

After we were given the bad news at the terminal, we went out for lunch in front of the beach nearby. Almost all the restaurants were seafood, but I didn't feel like choosing my own fish or dealing with eating fish, or paying too much money for fresh fish, so we went into the first non-seafood looking place we could find. It looked nice, but I was too lazy to really figure out what was on the menu, so I just pointed to some soup and ordered that for us. It ended up being cold soup and wasn't very good. The whole meal was only ten bucks, though, including all the side dishes that are standard. So it wasn't like we wasted a bunch of money.

Then we went to the beach. It had been a hot day, which I was surprised at. If it weren't 5:30 when we finally got to the beach, it might have been hot enough to warrant swimming (we wore swimsuits in case), or at least wading. As it was, we just stepped a little into the water, and it was quite cold, like in Maine. We walked a little, but ended up just plopping down after a few minutes to look at the guidebook for a new idea and to just rest.

There were some windsailers and jetskiers about, and families with kids running around. Those were fun to watch. I made a little turtle sculpture in the sand. We left after like a half hour.

We decided to take a taxi back, since it was such a long walk and we were tired. There was a long line of taxis at the ferry terminal, so we went back there. I memorized the phrase (intercity bus terminal" from the big map outside and went over to the taxi's. The drivers were all out of their cars, playing some game and betting. We asked for a ride to the bus terminal, and we had kind of a mixed language conversation about where we were going eventually. One guy offered us a ride to Ulsan, but when we declined that far a trip, he directed us to the main road where we had seen a couple unmanned taxis and some city buses.

We walked back to the main road, and as we passed the taxis, at this point figuring we'd have to flag one down, a guy absolutely spuh-rinted from a food stand across the street and called "Tak-shi? Tak-shi?" to us. I told him where we wanted to go, and he said okay, so we got in. The guy from the other unmanned taxi came around and talked to our driver for a second and then walked away grumbling because he didn't get the fare. That was funny. Snooze, lose.

On the way to the terminal, the driver asked us where we were going, and when I said Ulsan, if we wanted a ride all the way there. I said no, now just the bus terminal (in my broken Korean). The reaction from this taxi driver and the first one led us to believe that ferry riders are rich enough to tend to just take a taxi from there all the way home, even if it's in another city. Any of the guys at the terminal could easily have taken us, but they apparently wanted to wait for bigger fares. But no way could we take a taxi all the way back home. It cost almost as much take the taxi the couple miles to the bus terminal as it cost to ride the bus all the way home. I can't imagine what the taxi fee would be.

So that was my trip to Pohang. I forgot to bring a camera, but there wasn't much to take a picture of, since the most interesting thing we did was go to the beach. You can see pictures of Pohang, though, at pohangcity.net, if you really want.

Engrish

On a chick's t-shirt tonight:

Essence of Brimming with Hum