Howdy,
I'm inside the smokey PC Bung, this is where I go to use the internet and do my lesson plans for school. This is also where many Koreans go to play games for several hours a day (or for 48 hours straight until they die).
Anyway, last weekend I went to the DMZ with Josh, Amber and Kate. Last time we tried, it was cancelled because the North decided to open its dams in preparation for a typhoon - without warning the South ahead of time. A couple of South Korean villagers had to evacuate in order to avoid the released waters. In 2002, the North did the same thing with its dams, but with a more disasterous effect - 100 South Koreans drowned.
We took a bus from the USO in Seoul an hour north to the DMZ, where we received briefing. We had to sign a contract that basically said that if we got killed or maimed by the North, nobody would be responsible (that was the jist of the first sentence of the contract). So I tempted fate two weeks in a row.
Our group transferred to a blue DMZ tour bus that took us to different places along the DMZ. I actually got to stand on the North side while in a building placed halfway on the demarcation line. Across were two North Korean communist officers - one standing guard afront the North Korean stronghold, another in the window of the stronghold scoping us out with binoculars. Five South Korean rock soldiers held posts in front of the South's stronghold. The two clostest to the Northern border stood half-covered by buildings, to lessen the chance of possible enemy fire from hitting them.
One of the most interesting things about the DMZ was the North's "Propaganda Village," a small ghost town where at night they play on a loudspeaker communist propaganda, encouraging South Koreans to defect. Standing in the village is a huge North Korean flag, the fifth largest flag in the world. It stands nearly 200 meters high (do the conversion yourself). In a different area, I actually saw a real North Korean town. A couple of cars and vans were on the roads, but I saw no people. The cars and vans looked the same as the South Koreans,' but the buildings looked bland and sterile. Way out in the beautiful North Korean Mountains stood a signal-jamming tower. There are no radio transmissions in North Korea, at least, not from the outside world. In order for Jong-Il and his cronies to maintain complete brainwash capability, all news is regulated and distributed by the government - alternative non-communist thought is nearly impossible for North Korean citizens. Every year, relatives from both sides are allowed to visit with each other. This started in 2002, I believe, and this certainly has an effect on the North Korean government's ability to shun its citizens from a more positive reality.
After peering into the communist land, I put on a hard hat and went with the group through some tunnels. The North tried digging tunnels into South Korea in the 70s. The South drilled holes in different areas of the DMZ, filled them with water, and observed. The next few times the North blasted deeper toward the south with dynamite, the South was able to observe where the North Koreans were blowing through - the water jumped out of the holes that lay above the tunnels. The South began tunneling of their own and blockaded the North's tunnels, preventing their spies easy entry into the South.
It was an educational, interesting day. And I didn't get shot, which was good.
27 September 2005
23 September 2005
21 September 2005
Jungee Bumping
On Monday, the 19th, Josh and I made a 2 hour bus ride from Seoul to Jecheon, where we hailed a cab to Cheongpung Land, another 20 minutes drive up through winding mountains. We arrived and entered the first building we saw.
There were men wearing orange "staff" shirts, harnesses in hands. They pointed us toward a desk to our right. There we received greetings from a man who took our names and had us go back to the harness dudes. They gave us a plastic container to empty our pockets into (like what they have you do at the airport).
Then they had us step on a scale. I weigh 77 kg. One man held a harness open for me to step into, which I did before he tightened it around my waste. He had me sit in a chair, where two other guys wrapped my calves tight with additional leg harnesses. They instructed me to tie my shoes in double knots (sort of instructed, they didn't speak much English). The man from the front desk came up to me: "If you give up, remember, you will not be famous."
On the elevator that took us up, a Muzak Beethoven piano concerto played. The elevator went up and up and up and finally stopped. Josh and I followed the staffer dressed in orange who led us out on the long plank. There awaited two more staffers who didn't speak much English. I could feel the plank swaying in the wind. One of the staff members shook his hand at some seagulls perched up there, and they flew away.
"You first." A staffer was pointing at me. He had me sit in the first of two plastic chairs at the front of the short-walled plank. I thought that Josh would go first, but that was not the case. After one minute of glancing at the pool below, at the beautiful lakes on the horizon, and back to the pool, they had me get up, "come."
They opened a gate that blocked off a mini-plank short of 3 meters in length. "Take steps," they said, and I inched closer, closer, "another step, another" they said.
They were trying to tell me to put my feet halfway over the edge when I was only 1/3 the way over, then they called me back, "come, come." They shut the gate just as the tower began to shake.
The tower not only suspended Korea's longest bungee cord (a 62m jump), but a group bungee swing as well, which had just begun swinging when I was trying to jump off of the tower. Finally, the tower stood still again, the gate reopened.
One of the workers showed me how far I should step out, using a thick beam in the floor as an example. I mimicked him, first over the beam, then out on the plank. "stand up," the two guys told me, and I did. "raise arms." I did. "okay,now we count 'five, four, three, two, one,' then you go".
I tried not to think, just listened to them. They counted down. I got into my mode where I don't think about what I'm about to do, just know that pretty soon I'm going to do something. When they said "one," I said it along with them, then I took a little hop and next thing I know I'm falling.
On a rollercoaster ride, you feel the resistance of the track, you have that reassurance of being connected to something on the ground, something is holding you. I was waiting for that semi-comfortable feeling, and when it didn't come after a second, I started flailing my arms and legs and screaming like a wuss.
The cord caught, and I started yelling and heard applause from the crowd watching. The cord bounced and bounced and spun around many times. I hung upside down the entire descent, the blood filling my head. A man in a boat took my hand finally, and I could stop spinning physically. He took me ashore. Josh was more graceful, he yelled but there were no flailing arms and legs, he just dove off the plank. I bought and drank a Coke afterwards, which I tasted again at the busstop."
There were men wearing orange "staff" shirts, harnesses in hands. They pointed us toward a desk to our right. There we received greetings from a man who took our names and had us go back to the harness dudes. They gave us a plastic container to empty our pockets into (like what they have you do at the airport).
Then they had us step on a scale. I weigh 77 kg. One man held a harness open for me to step into, which I did before he tightened it around my waste. He had me sit in a chair, where two other guys wrapped my calves tight with additional leg harnesses. They instructed me to tie my shoes in double knots (sort of instructed, they didn't speak much English). The man from the front desk came up to me: "If you give up, remember, you will not be famous."
On the elevator that took us up, a Muzak Beethoven piano concerto played. The elevator went up and up and up and finally stopped. Josh and I followed the staffer dressed in orange who led us out on the long plank. There awaited two more staffers who didn't speak much English. I could feel the plank swaying in the wind. One of the staff members shook his hand at some seagulls perched up there, and they flew away.
"You first." A staffer was pointing at me. He had me sit in the first of two plastic chairs at the front of the short-walled plank. I thought that Josh would go first, but that was not the case. After one minute of glancing at the pool below, at the beautiful lakes on the horizon, and back to the pool, they had me get up, "come."
They opened a gate that blocked off a mini-plank short of 3 meters in length. "Take steps," they said, and I inched closer, closer, "another step, another" they said.
They were trying to tell me to put my feet halfway over the edge when I was only 1/3 the way over, then they called me back, "come, come." They shut the gate just as the tower began to shake.
The tower not only suspended Korea's longest bungee cord (a 62m jump), but a group bungee swing as well, which had just begun swinging when I was trying to jump off of the tower. Finally, the tower stood still again, the gate reopened.
One of the workers showed me how far I should step out, using a thick beam in the floor as an example. I mimicked him, first over the beam, then out on the plank. "stand up," the two guys told me, and I did. "raise arms." I did. "okay,now we count 'five, four, three, two, one,' then you go".
I tried not to think, just listened to them. They counted down. I got into my mode where I don't think about what I'm about to do, just know that pretty soon I'm going to do something. When they said "one," I said it along with them, then I took a little hop and next thing I know I'm falling.
On a rollercoaster ride, you feel the resistance of the track, you have that reassurance of being connected to something on the ground, something is holding you. I was waiting for that semi-comfortable feeling, and when it didn't come after a second, I started flailing my arms and legs and screaming like a wuss.
The cord caught, and I started yelling and heard applause from the crowd watching. The cord bounced and bounced and spun around many times. I hung upside down the entire descent, the blood filling my head. A man in a boat took my hand finally, and I could stop spinning physically. He took me ashore. Josh was more graceful, he yelled but there were no flailing arms and legs, he just dove off the plank. I bought and drank a Coke afterwards, which I tasted again at the busstop."
11 September 2005
Eating Live Octopus
Yes, that's right. I ate live octopus last night. They bring out a plate of freshly chopped up live octopus, and all the tentacles and pieces move when you poke them. They also suck on your tongue and teeth when you try to swallow them. I dipped mine in garlic butter and hot sauce, about six or seven pieces. It tasted kind of like calamari, but chewier and uncooked.
Some kid in my class chucked a cassette tape at me. He lost a game, freaked out and next thing I know his tape is shattering on the table just inches from me. He starts bawling away. I went to get a school staff member, then got my materials for my next class and went to that. I walked past the room and the kid was still crying in there. What a baby.
I went hiking through some woods today with Josh, we just kept walking through the city of Seoul toward a mountain until we got there. Then we climbed it.
Some kid in my class chucked a cassette tape at me. He lost a game, freaked out and next thing I know his tape is shattering on the table just inches from me. He starts bawling away. I went to get a school staff member, then got my materials for my next class and went to that. I walked past the room and the kid was still crying in there. What a baby.
I went hiking through some woods today with Josh, we just kept walking through the city of Seoul toward a mountain until we got there. Then we climbed it.
06 September 2005
Black...
is the color on the Kleenex when I blow my nose in the morning. The air in Seoul is so polluted, I feel wheezy all the time. Allergies don't really bother me, though, so lose one ailment, add another. I don't have much free time during the week, I'm in school teaching from 9am to around 6pm Monday through Friday. Kindergarten takes a lot of energy out of me. Those kids are in the morning through lunch time. I get to feed them their lunch, make sure (unsuccessfully) that they don't spill anything, and keep them from fighting during class. I have them color and we play games.
There are two more native English speakers, Jason (from Oklahoma) and Jaron (New Zealand), along with Josh and I. They're fun to have around. We should have one more, hopefully next month we'll see a new face speaking English in the office ready to teach.
Our apartment has ants (sort of like my house at Gustavus last year had Japanese Beetles). There is this old TV/VCR combo that mangled one of my tapes when I tried to play it. We'll get more fun out of it by tossing it out the window and watching it shatter. We went to Karaoke last weekend. That was fun, the floor had lights in it that lit up. Koreans like to drink Soju, a watered-down rice vodka. It tastes kind of crappy. 'Twas a fun time.
There are two more native English speakers, Jason (from Oklahoma) and Jaron (New Zealand), along with Josh and I. They're fun to have around. We should have one more, hopefully next month we'll see a new face speaking English in the office ready to teach.
Our apartment has ants (sort of like my house at Gustavus last year had Japanese Beetles). There is this old TV/VCR combo that mangled one of my tapes when I tried to play it. We'll get more fun out of it by tossing it out the window and watching it shatter. We went to Karaoke last weekend. That was fun, the floor had lights in it that lit up. Koreans like to drink Soju, a watered-down rice vodka. It tastes kind of crappy. 'Twas a fun time.
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