Movin' on

Still in Korea, my blog has just moved on to a better place:
http://brittanyranew.wordpress.com/

I'm not as into the blog thing as I would hope but every now and then check up for a random story from traveling.

Hope you're well, wherever you are.

I'm sorry this last blog is so hard to read. Blogger.com sucks. I'm not one to throw the blame on someone/thing else but the picture uploading process fucks (Grandma, I apologize for the foul language) everything up. I'll have to edit a few more hours before it's neat and easy to read. Until then you can try to manage your way through it, sorry.

I got a fish! A few weeks ago my friend Karen and I popped into a pet store right down the street from the biggest live fish market in town. Instead of buying a small octopus as a pet (what I told my students, they totally bought it…) we opted for something more traditional. Karen went with two fast little black and silver guys while I got a goldfish. The two that Karen bought have been flushed; RIP Fang and Big Bang (named after the VERY popular Korean Boy Band). However, my little Honey is still swimming strong. I cherish the moment every day that I walk in and say, “Honey, I’m home”.

Other than the fish, I have a lot of catching up to do. The year has started off packed with interesting trips, good finds and a settled sense of home. Over the past two months we went to China, were extras in a Korean film, watched friends and Koreans dive into the freezing water of Heaundae beach, made/witnessed beach bonfires, dumpster dove, saw a shitty game of basketball (just yesterday, they lost by one point), new folks have come and good friends have left.

And that is just the beginning. Mom and Dad will be here in three days, I’ll wow them, hopefully, with my seamless knowledge of the navigation, food and language of Korea. Psh, well, kind of. Their arrival has pushed memorizing the Korean alphabet to the top of the list, that gives me until Thursday to get it down. This weekend we will be heading to Seoul, from there going to Kyoto, Japan taking the train to Fukuoka, Japan then a ferry back home to Busan. A short while and Nadia and Lauren will be arriving! It’s never dull, NEVER.

I’m getting ahead of myself, first China.

Beijing, China
The morning of the 24th of January I hopped in a cab with Pete and Lisa, my Canadian co-workers, to the airport. We were meeting up with a group of nearly 100 foreigners from Busan, all of which were young teachers on vacation. I’ll spare the details, but I’m guessing you can see where this is going. The English speaking travel agency in the city planned the whole package deal with transportation, tour guides, hotel and food. We easily find the group at the airport, after filing through a number of lines we exchange our money then find our way to the plane and head to China.

Two hours later, after a rocky take off AND landing (while climbing up the stairs to board Alyssa tells us that Chinese pilots don’t have the best training). We split up into four groups, meet our Chinese tour guide, Mike, and hop on the buses (Bus D) to head to the first sight.

The next three days blend together. It was a packed trip, seeing all of the major sights, eating signature food in large restaurants that catered to big tour groups and shopping at touristy “factory” stores that had a small display of how they make ancient Chinese art (bastard version of what is a beautiful process) then escort you into the much larger room where they can make money off of you through souvenir shopping.

Overall, Beijing was a wonderful city. It was very clean, surprisingly. A lot of which had to do with the fact that the Olympics just came through shaping the city up for the whole world to see. The one thing I noticed was that the architecture was different from that in Korea, more Western or European. The food was much like Taiwan’s. We were served what everyone knows as Chinese dishes- dumplings, soup, noodles, rice, and Peking Duck (from Beijing, the city is also called Peking) were among them. We had fine weather, although freezing and everything was cheap. The best part though was that it was Chinese New Year, we brought in the Year of the Bull in China. You can’t imagine the fireworks; they surrounded us from the morning we arrived until 5 am the day we flew out.

A photo tour of Beijing:

Chinese 'you-on' or Mao Money

The Temple of Heaven
Jade Factory
Like Taiwan they are proud of their Jade in China (although they don’t repeat “It’s naycha” over and over until you buy something). I must say that after the Jade factory I had a much greater appreciation for the stone. Jade is worn because it has a healing power, it makes organs strong or holds some kind of ancient magic of the Orient. Jade bangles are worn on the left arms of women to be closer to the heart and the same goes for men and children who wear it as a pendant around their necks. There were some beautiful intricate pieces of sculpture that were of fine craftsmanship. The most appealing feature of Jade is that when in contact with the human body for a long period of time it will physically change colors, but it will only turn to a deeper green when it is worn. For some reason that little fact made me fall in love with the stone I always overlooked. I didn’t buy anything, I regret that now.

The Summer Palace

These are the people I hang with in Busan, Beijing, and wherever else we find ourselves in Asia. They are Haley, Kathleen, Alyssa, Karen and Matt and they're pretty great.

The Silk Market

She is carving 'Ranew' on this stamp, although it comes out as ‘Lanew’ in Chinese. This picture makes the market look calm. It was anything but, there were many designer rip off bags and those sales people where crazy. Seriously, mentally tweaked, trying to sell you anything in any way possible. Their favorite method? Force. It was scary.

The Pearl Factory

The Chinese Empress that lived in the Summer Palace was a conqubine at a young age in the Forbidden City. When she moved up in the line of royalty she discovered a love for cultivated fresh water pearls and revived/started/popularized the pearl market in Beijing. Every morning she would crush a pearl and rub the powder on her face. Ok, so I don't know the nitty gritty of this gal's life (or even her name) but the most intriging part of her story was in her death. She died at 74, they said her face looked 15 because of the pearl powder, she was burried with millions of pearls. Her people placed pearls in her coffin and the largest one, from Chiang Kai-shek's wife, was placed in her mouth. I never really cared for pearls that much, like Jade, I love them now because of this story.

Aimee told me not to do anything stupid in China, since they're Communist and all. I did think twice about stealing a pearl from a clam sitting unsupervised. Took one anyway, sorry Aim.

The Great Wall

Sometimes it felt like we were on a high school field trip, although better. Here is the 'Bus D' picture with The Great Wall as our backdrop. Take that Lameside.

I have no words to go with The Great Wall experience. Except that 'great' is a gross understatement. We must of climbed thousands of stairs but I never noticed being out of breath because it was just so damn amazing. Some day, we'll go there together. I want you to see it.

Chinese Enamelware
This was my favorite 'factory' stop we made. The copper scraps lying everywhere reminded me of the work done over the summer with Bud, Deb and George. Sadly, this is a dieing art. Enamelware is an intriquite and time consuming, younger artists are just not interested in it.

Let's hope that changes. Here she is gluing small peices on to the copper as the outline of the design.

The copper is saudered, then painted with enamel.

They are then fired, cooled, polished and look like the above product. It was originally used only for Royalty.

The Forbidden City

Check out those hot conqubines.
Tienemen Square

Chairman Mao is much larger and more ominous in person.
Chinese Acrobatics Show
How many limber Chinese women does it take to ride a bike? Probably just one but look how many they can fit! I think it was twelve. Again, well done with the photography Kathleen.
The Hot Pot

Kat's picture (thanks girlfriend!) of our hot pot dinner. Everyone gets a boiling pot of broth that you put fresh meat, noodles and veggies into, much like Shabu Shabu.

The Bird's Nest

We were only able to drive by it, it was much larger than I imagined. Not just a sports stadium, this is an astonishing work of modern art.

Mongolian dinner and a show

Another blog to come tomorrow, gotta catch up.

Happy Birthday Karlee and Frances!

The importance of a 22nd

As some of you know, the 22nd of every month is important to me. It is the one day of every 30 or so that I can claim my own. For some reason, while I studied abroad in Italy it became a staple of life that consisted, if not readily but steadily, through my life. Why? Simply because the number 22 is my favorite number. It isn't lucky, but merely a reminder to keep life interesting. And the 22nd day of every month is that day.

This 22nd, the first of 2009, was one for the books. It started out like any other. I was rushing to work but still stop by for coffee anyway, the excuse being that it was the 22nd (at the risk of work not understanding). My classes were great, the new kids I have are mixed with a handful of older ones making the classroom dynamic comfortable and fun. One six year old is Jim, but I call him Jimbo (after that burly foundry professor with the rough voice and a mustache to match). I joke with them, they serve it right back to me in drawings, responses to "How are you?", and rough English. I expressed my love of Obama, taught them the phrase, "Obama Mama," even though it had no real merit in their English learning or lives in general, just cause it sounded funny. They are easy to please, a few rounds of "Eeny, meany, miney, mo" to decide who will read the part for role-playing shocks and awes them. After reciting the date I tell them about my favorite number, 22. We spend the next ten minutes talking about favorite numbers, great lesson.

From there the 22nd day of the year took me to the thrift store. Lisa introduced me to a great thrift store run by the Catholic Group Home right around the corner from our apartments. There I bought some cheap frames needed for the blank walls of my apartment. I then took the alternative route home in search of white spray paint. Didn't find it, where is a Wal-Mart when you need one? Well, there is one in Seoul (seriously, there is). No luck with the spray paint but I head home to ready myself for some live music in PNU, a university part of town with an open mic night, a good open mic, every Thursday. The music was good, the crowd tamer than usual. However, like every 22nd it wasn't quite ready to end at midnight. Therefore we go on to explore what the early hours of the 23rd have to offer.

What did we find? Unsuccessful at first we only find a salsa lounge called the Che bar, lights were off, it was closed. It was then that we cross the street where we came across this tiny place that looked straight out of Switzerland. We peak in the windows, it was a quaint little Alpine nook with three Korean men. Karen braves the door, it was open. She disappears, I wait on the street. She reappears to invite me in. The owners are welcoming. But they are so much more than that. Upon entering our world is transformed to a place that makes little sense being in Busan. We find ourselves with a yodeling champion (and owner, Mr. E, pronounced 'mystery'), a classically trained Italian opera singer, and some random Korean man that was their friend. We exchange pleasantries with all three Korean born men then the show begins.

With some prodding Mr. E first beings to play the guitar, on which he strums an American country song. He is good. More surface conversation is exchanged when the man in the glasses says he speaks Italian. It was then that I learned that I lost most, if not all, of the language that I had studied over the past three years. Damn shame, who would of known it would prove useful in Korea?

When I say this place was out of place it seemed so because every thing in the tiny little restaurant/bar/music hole did not scream Korea. It is hard to be in a restaurant (no matter what they serve), movie theater, even the middle of the woods and forget where you are. In this small place there were no signs aside from the faces of the three men sitting around us and the cheap beer we drank. The restaurant was about the size of my apartment, small. Only three tables, two of which for costumers the third covered in instruments. The rest of the floor space was filled with a heater and various upright stringed instruments. The left wall covered, from floor to ceiling with a mural of the Alps on the left wall. The back wall a bookshelf filled with hundreds of records and following the cow bells to the right wall which displayed traditional laderhosen and the feminine equivalent hanging in dry cleaning bags. Just to the right of these was a picture of our man Mr. E playing an accordion in that there lederhosen to the left. Below the picture, sitting on the third table, the same accordion.

We ask him to play. He picks it up, HOHGEN is written in all caps close to where he puts his right hand. Near his left, ATLANTA. The number 22 was speaking to me through this German accordion named Atlanta. But, WHAT DOES IT MEAN? He finishes one song then goes to the next. Singing in English then Korean. He plays folk/country/bluegrass songs on a beautiful mandolin ('Amazing Grace' being one of them), banjo and the Swiss horn. It comes in three parts, this Swiss horn. I'm still not sure of the correct name, while Mr. E's yodeling was of champion level but his English pronunciation was rough, much less his Swiss French.

However, he worked that horn like he was a Swiss, it was as if the little place stuck in Busan, South Korea was really Bern. As if the mural to the left of us sprang to life. As if this little Korean man was playing on the Alps.

The classically trained Italian Opera singer, who studied in Rome and now teaches in Busan, was up next. Mr. E had a calming voice, like a soothing folk song. I wasn't sure what to really expect from the Italian Korean man. He seemed so unassuming in his baseball cap and horn rimmed glasses, until he began. The force and strength of him voice seemed enough to blow the little Helen-esque hole out of the wall. It was beautiful, he was extremely talented. After hearing a few more songs and giving apologies for not being able to show off any singing talent we walk out the door. We're back on a quiet street in PNU, find taxis (and a fantastic mirror someone was throwing away!) and head home.

There are not many experiences that have made me forget every other thought. Usually I am always, constantly, preoccupied with something else on my mind. However tonight, when the 22nd became the 23rd, I experienced just that. The culmination of my life, references from major parts, wrapped up in strangers stumbled upon in a Swiss bar in Korea. Folk songs reminded me of home, the atmosphere of the bar was like being back in Bern, the Italian felt just as familiar and all of these were manifested in a small place with the people of Korea. Here I was sitting with a Korean man, communicating in Italian next to another Korean man that spoke fluent folk and instrument across form my Canadian friend. It was a good night.

We'll see what China has to offer, I leave tomorrow.

To the country of Korea and it's people,
I owe y'all a few apologies as detailed below.


I still flush the toilet paper.

I'm sorry, but the knowledge of using the restroom next to a trashcan filled with other people's used tp keeps me from adding to the pile. Perhaps someday my Karma will block up and flood my apartment (so it goes with my friend Karen). For now I will continue to flush it out of sight.

I get better pay, hours and treatment than my Korean coworkers.

Today I got a free pair of brand spanking new Nike's from Mr. Go, the owner of our school, for Lunar New Year. Apparently he has quite the hook up. While showing off our shoes in the teacher's office our boss shyly tells Lisa and I to keep it down, "Not everyone got them". Oops, didn't realize that only the foreign teachers got a pair... Lisa and I immediately shut up, sliding the packages as far from sight as possible. It's true though, there is a significant difference in treatment of Korean and Western teachers at work. We work at least two hours less a day (although this used to be much larger), we get paid higher salaries on top of getting a furnished apartment and rent. To top it all off we never get reprimanded.

I never write in my blog.

An apology more so for my friends and family that still keep up with this thing. I have no excuse, I suck. Another apology for those of you back home, your Christmas packages are still sitting in my closet. Expect them by late February, maybe.


I don't like the rice cakes.

This is only OK because I do enjoy just about all other types of Korean food. Not the rice cakes though, I can't fully grasp how or why they are that consistency.

I pull the "Mull eye oh" card many times a day.

Translation: "I dunno". Strapped for cash at the end of last month I returned the CD player bought on impulse at Mega Mart before Christmas. It was when my computer was busted and I had an irresistible urge to listen to festive music, knowing that I only had so much longer to enjoy it before the season was up. After shopping around (two stores) I ended up spending over $60 on the cheapest one I could find. Fixing my computer a few weeks later left it useless until I found the receipt. It had been past the date of return (visible on the receipt in English). I pulled the foreigner card and got my money back, the manager in perfect English saying, "We can make some exceptions." "Kumsamida," I reply with a smile. The worst part was that not only did they give me cash for my full purchase but they even gave me the 50 won refund for the plastic bag I returned with the boom box (if you don't have a shopping bag of your own they give you one for a small fee). Ouch, that kind of hurt.

I'm sorry it went down in flames.

Starface, the bar and home to our Sunday night trivia tradition caught fire last time we were there. Yes, we witnessed the whole thing. Being in the building, flames licking the front entrance, escaping, firemen came, fire was gone. The worst part was watching the reaction of the Korean and Western patrons. This place had a nice neighborhood 'Cheers' kind of vibe, with regulars from all backgrounds. I only hope it can be revived, however, I'm sorry to report rumors I've heard that it may become just another Korean Restaurant since the damages exceed $50,000 sans insurance. Then again they may just be rumors.

Korean firemen just don't do it for me.

I once said that it didn't matter what they looked like as long as they were wearing the uniform. However, I realized that wasn't true when I was watching the fire instead of the men in yellow and black. They didn't quite fit the image I have. While I hope to never be in a situation where firemen are needed again, if there is a next time I hope the rescue takes place back in the states. Preferably New York.

Along with my apologies I have many things to thank you for Korea. I celebrate my 6 month anniversary with you next Saturday. While I had a rough idea of what my intentions were for moving here back in July I was mostly blind to the experience I would have. My Grandma, who lived in Daegu in the 80's gave me the two little tidbits of knowledge to travel with.
1. You never know what to do with your legs when you sit on the floor at a restaurant.
And 2. Korean people are extremely nice.
Both of which have been proven true upon countless occasions. The past months have provided more than just affirmation of her wisdom. Including the interesting and meaningful people I now call friends and a decent collection of stray buttons, I've also checked a few things off my list and added to it accordingly. Let's hope the next six months will be as unpredictable and satisfying as the last.

P.S. Today I taught your children the "magic word" and a few days back I named one of them Elvis, thank me later.

Crimbo in Korea

Korean children do not like it when their teachers sing. Or dance. Doing both simultaneously really makes them unhappy. So, on Christmas Eve Lisa and I both come into work amped about Christmas. Before class we pop in a CD she brought to school and start dancing and singing. We had one girl cornered, she almost looked on the verge of tears. One time I even sang a whole lesson because it gets such a rise out of them. They don't really enjoy singing or dancing themselves, in class as least. However, I attempted to break them out of their shell by teaching them songs of the season. 'Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer' for the little ones and Elvis's 'Blue Christmas' for my older kids. Neither won them over, which I was disappointed about. However, I got one class (my best class, they are so cute) on film, here they are:

Alright, so the sound is bad like the last video. I'll still keep it up, just be warned.

Merry Christmas! Seeing that this was the second Christmas I have spent in Asia I had some idea of what to expect. The first one being in 2001 when my family went to visit my sister Dot who was teaching in Taipei, Taiwan. I honestly do not remember a lot about the Christmas traditions there other than the commercial side. The only real evidence of the holiday I noticed in Taipei were decorations in all of the stores and pointsettas, but they grow native. I also remember Dot's tree. A four foot tall painting hanging on the wall decorated by her students. While my dream to find a real tree did not come true, no Big Jon's here, I did get this one for 2,000 at the local dollar store. It's about two feet tall with homemade decorations. Although small it brightened up the place along with presents, a picture of Aimee's girls, Nadia's card, candles and a beautiful candle holder made by my Mom. I opened a few presents every night leading up to the big day since I couldn't hold out. Although I saved the ones I was most excited about, along with the cards, for Christmas morning ("It's not Hanukkah, you aren't Jewish," Aim's reply to this). Thank you so much for the gifts, you really out did yourselves.

In Korea, much like Taiwan, Christmas is very commercialized. If I judge by what I hear from my kids the whole Jesus part of the holiday is lost to presents, decorations and fancy cakes. The conversation that led me to believe this took place last Tuesday in my third class, the bad one, when we were playing a game made up on the fly to take up time. The class was split into two teams, red and blue, I asked them questions manipulating the points to even out the scores/let the kids I like better win. The last question was a bonus Christmas one worth two points, this win could turn the whole game around, the red team in the lead with one point.

I slowly ask, "Christmas is some one's birthday, someone important. Whose birthday is it?". The kids are stunned. I think they thought that the question would relate to our lesson for that week. Ha, I like to watch them squirm. Hands shoot up even though their faces tell me they have no clue. I give the question to my favorite student, the sweetest boy that sometimes picks his nose and cries when the other students call him 'Brian chicken' (lame insult I know, must be a Korean thing).

"Brian."

He's thinking hard, taking it slow, "Christmas is... Brittany Teacher's birthday.

"Ha, no. Guess again."

"It's... uh... ha... SANTA'S birthday." The class goes wild with laughter.

"Haha, no. This person lived a long time ago, think history," I hint.

Hunter raises his hand. This is the problem child. His most recent work includes listing Jillian (my Korean co-teacher) and Brittany under the dislike column on a workbook activity about what you do and don't like. It took me to the brink, (some of you will be disappointed in me, some of you will laugh) I called him a 'little bastard' to his face that day. He couldn't understand me, if that makes it any better. About two weeks in he was the one repeatedly saying "Fuck you" while flipping the bird. See? It's been building, he deserved it.

Anyway, Hunter gets close with, "It's God's birthday."

"Close, but no."

Then he says something in Korean which, according to Kevin #2's (there are many Kevins) phone dictionary which he holds up to my face to pronounce is correct.

"Jesus Christ," I yell. "Correct, the blue team wins." Hunter took the win for his team to my disappointment.

Every week we have a journal topic that the kids write over the weekend and, if I'm lucky, return on Monday. Last week's topic was, 'If you could have anything for Christmas what would it be?'. To show them what I expect they help me write an example on the board. For this topic we listed what they thought Brittany Teacher would want for Christmas. This might not count as sarcasm because I'm pretty sure they were dead serious about some of the answers, but this is what they thought up: a car, money, marriage, Lamborghini, a big house, cell phone, AK 47, a man, bombs, and a baby (not just any baby, they think that for Christmas I want to get pregnant and have my own child). I have a lot of boys, which explains the weapons/cars. The whole 'a man' idea was clever, but not sure where that came from. I put a big red X through all the things that weren't on my mental Christmas list and ended up with a Lamborghini. Hunter's journal was the same as mine, maybe we're more alike than different after all. However, Kevin #1 (otherwise known as Cute Kevin, but he really isn't) had a fantastic journal, or 'janar' as he writes it, that I thought good enough to take a picture of:

Not sure how Zombies came to be in America but I am glad that Kevin #1 is on it.

Sadly, many of my students will be moving up a level and I will get a whole new batch on Monday. I have really grown attached to them since most I've had from the time I started working and I see them every day. We'll see what characters I meet this time around.

It is Boxing Day today, not a usual day off like Christmas was but luckily I work for an amazing company and they gave all their branches the day off. Unlike my friends I get to lounge on this Friday while they are stuck at work. Last night was our big Christmas party at a swanky high rise on the beach. Kathleen, Karen (one of our best friends here, she is Canadian, has been here for 4 months, has a scooter named Dixie, is a co founding member of Club Tuesday Party, a great person and a lot of fun) and I were throwing this thing so we arrive at 2 pm on Christmas Day to get it started. We pay for the room, get the key, haul our bags up to the 15th floor and walk in. There was a solid 5 minutes of all three of us screaming, running from room to room, jumping on the one bed as we took in the amazingness that was Room 1502. While we had seen the layout of the condo before we didn't know what type of view we would have. But right there, 15 stories down was Haeundae Beach (and Dixie, you could seen Karen's scooter parked on the sidewalk). It was a perfect view, better than we expected. People were to arrive at three so we start to unpack our suitcases. I brought the same amount of luggage to the condo for one night as I brought to South Korea. The same bag anyway, this time it was filled with groceries, pots, pans, a coffee maker and my small Charlie Brown tree.

People begin to arrive, we cook, decorate with music in the background and Christmas movies on the HUGE flat screen. Like home on holidays the traffic was terrible and the super market packed. Running an errand with my friend Travis, an American from the West coast, was more like a slow crawl in the taxi to end up dodging wild carts and people in the store just to pick up water, cause remember you can't drink from the tap, and drinks for the party. FYI- you can't buy ice, it just won't happen.

Getting back from errands we find that the turkey has not arrived yet. I call Mr. Kim at the Seamen's (heh) Club to find out that the bird is en route. The other day I made my way to the other side of town behind the train station (literally the other side of the tracks) on Pier 3 of the major port in Busan to the Seamen's Club. I have heard of this place from friends that have eaten here for different holidays, but it was my first time in the place. It screams tacky American restaurant, straight out of Ellijay, Georgia. They serve American food all year round but specialize in holiday meals for Westerners and Koreans alike. I pay Mr. Kim the won equivalent of $90 (the whole menu is in dollars, not sure why) which comes to 126,000 won (the won has dropped drastically since I arrived). I proof read the address he wrote down, with date, time and my named spelled with two p's. The turkey is to be delivered to the Palé de CZ at 5 pm on Christmas Day to Brippany via taxi. Let's hope the taxi driver doesn't get hungry on the way.


A while after talking to Mr.Kim I get a call from the taxi driver, he doesn't speak much English. Just enough to say he was here and he was, "A Korean guy". Duh, we assumed that he would also be, get this, in a taxi. Sunel, my South African friend that lives in the apartment building next door to me, comes with to find this Korean man and our turkey. On the elevator down she explains to me that there are no Z's in the Korean language, she is making a much stronger attempt to learn Korean than I ever will be capable of. That's why I keep her around, that and the fact that she used to work in a park with elephants, lions and other African things I've only seen in zoos. She's pretty cool.

We find him, he pops the trunk, we trade cab fare for food, wish him a Merry Christmas and take the turkey back up to the room. We peal back the tin foil to the most beautiful turkey I have ever seen. It was at least 18 pounds and tasted as good as it looked complete with stuffing. The rest of the night was spent eating, drinking, playing games, oh-ing and ah-ing over how fancy the place was with friends filtering in from different obligations all over the city. It was a great group of people, everyone chipped in to pay us for the room and helped with food. If I spend another Christmas away from home I hope I am surrounded with people of the same quality as those I was with last night. It truly was one of my best nights in Busan.

It wouldn't be Christmas without talking to the family. I am so happy I was able to talk to everyone at midnight to be there, in some sense, when you opened your package from Korea. I hope you enjoyed everything. Dad, did you really try the silkworms? Gag. I send my love to everyone back home that I have not talked to. I hope this Christmas finds you well.

It was around 5 am when the last party guests left. Kathleen and Karen went to sleep before me, claiming the one bed and leaving me to the couch or a bed pad on the floor. I opted for the floor. It really was comfortable. The morning was spent with the three of us cleaning up, finding random gifts and things people left behind, making breakfast out of what was left of the food, milking our last few hours in our fancy apartment and talking about how lucky we were to have found such great people for friends in Korea. Though sappy it couldn't be more true. Pictures of those people, the Palé and the party to follow.

Jordan carving the turkey.

The view the next morning.

↑
This is the building from the outside taken during our ferry ride last week.

My bed.

Club Tuesday Party

The hours here mold a person into a routine that is less than stressful. While there are some that work normal hours at public schools most English teachers work hours starting around 2 in the afternoon until 9 at night. This results in late nights with late mornings and little time for us to see the light of day. That can be wearing very quickly and seeing as everyone needs a good dose of vitamin D Kathleen, Karen and I began the Club Tuesday Party. Every week we wake up before noon to experience the wonders Busan has to offer during the day before work. This past week we took the ferry tour of the Oryuk-do Islets.




I will be adding to this photographic record (stolen from Club Tuesday Partiers) of our morning and soon there will be a video of the crazy seagulls that entertained us the whole ride. We even saw some sea life!







The seagulls were very brave. We figured out by the end of the ride that they would even eat off our hats. Thankfully everyone got out of there clean. Honestly, I think it was scarier for me than the bird.








The Korean couple that was nice enough to tell us to buy food to throw to the birds. He is holding out a shrimp flavored chip for them to grab from his hand. Let's hope bird flu isn't a concern in Asia any longer...











Great picture Jordan! Not sure how these fishermen got there but it looks as though they'll be there all day. This is one of the small rocky islands, or islets, the ferry took us around.





This obviously wasn't Tuesday morning. Rather, this was Sunday evening. It was a nice day spent wondering Busan with my friend Jason. We found a comic book convention with hundreds of Korean teenagers dressed in ridiculous costumes and then we found this: