O-man won!

Well, the inevitable happened – I ruined my run of faithfully updating the blog at least once a week. I don’t think anyone but me really noticed, but small routines like the Sunday evening blog time are precious to me. I did start to write last weekend, but I was derailed by the fact that it was a nightmare of a weekend with no – or little – reprieve from work, for both of us. I was writing recommendations, and Chris was adjusting to his new full-time teaching schedule, since the chemistry teacher for whom he’s subbing had her baby a couple weeks back. Anyway, here’s last week’s aborted blog:

This weekend involved a fairly intense marathon of college recommendation letter-writing on my part, which I do not intend to whine about in this entry, but which I must admit has left me devoid of nearly all expressive ability. Instead of an exposition of the Demilitarized Zone, which we visited on Saturday, when I start typing what comes out instead are things like, “We approached the increased rigor of the third-year course – wait, of the DMZ security, that is – with resolve as well as an intellectual curiosity that set him – I mean, set us apart from our peers. I believe I speak for all members of the tour group when I say that Chris’s rendition of I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You during the bus-karaoke session on the way home earned him the respect and admiration of the entire faculty – that is, of the tour guide as well as the bus driver.” [Singing tour guide pictured on right.] Anyway, I am finished with all but one letter, and the one that remains does not need to be written this weekend and is for a student about whom it is easy to write. Sacrificing more or less an entire weekend to this activity was inevitable, I guess, so instead of complaining I will be grateful for early action deadlines at colleges, which prevent me from procrastinating these things into my Christmas vacation, when they are even less appealing. Do I sound like the worst kind of grinchy teacher? I do enjoy saying great things about good people, which is basically what writing the letters amounts to.

The trip to the DMZ was interesting and worthwhile. I don't really have anything important or even coherent to say about it, so I'll just describe the pictures. The demilitarized zone is a full-on tourist trap - a constant stream of tour buses like ours keeps the vending booths and nearby amusement park in business - and this fact in itself makes it a pretty bizarre place. I wish I had a copy of the film montage they show you when you get there, dramatizing the conflict and separation after the style of an 80's-era Whitesnake video. Chris had fun delighting the local boys with his burgeoning Korean skills, as you can see on the left. Next, take a moment to marvel at the eternal fla- no, the eternal, um, piece of red tissue paper being blown by an eternal fan? This high-class symbol commemorates something - not sure what - the dream of reunification? We saw it when we toured one of the invasion tunnels the South Koreans discovered in the 70's or 80's (the most recent one was found in the mid-90's, I think). This is worth a couple words, because it was the funniest thing we learned about N-S Korean relations. When SK found this tunnel and accused the North of plotting an invasion, the North Koreans responded, "What?? Invasion tunnel? You morons, that's a COAL mine!" Then, they surreptitiously smeared coal grime all over the walls of the tunnel - never mind that there's no coal anywhere near this region . . . brilliant. I think I was even more impressed by this story than the fact that Kim Jong Il shot a perfect game the very first time he played golf. If I had more time on my hands, I would set up a blog of homage to all the world leaders who must employ teams of comedy geniuses to help them be the very best possible parodies of themselves. Chávez, Castro, Kim Jong . . . and let's not neglect our own Dear Leader. Maybe it's a good thing I'm so busy; the last thing I need is to make a hobby of ridiculing people who control massive armies and nuclear weapons. Back to the tunnel: it was unremarkable, except we did get to wear these construction worker helmets, and for once in my life I got to appreciate my average height as Chris strained to keep from knocking his head all over those coal-smeared dynamited walls. So, in conclusion: the DMZ tour was worth doing because it was one of the weirdest tourism experiences one could hope for, and because we'll always have a whole portfolio of photos we were forced to pose for - complete with DMZ Tour Banner, "Say Whisky!" style - to remember it by.

OK, back to the un-italicized present tense:

The thing about not having a weekend, or working through it, is that it pretty much guarantees an awful week to follow. And this past week lived up to that rule . . . I won’t go into detail, but it was a week of stress, angst, anger, and even a painfully embarrassing crying fit on the bus one morning, sparked by some mild criticism from a colleague. I was a monster this week. I hated teaching and felt morose about everything except Chris and Korean vocabulary, the only two things in my life that were bringing me happiness.

Well, what I realized, or remembered, was that bad weeks happen every now and then, and now, on the other side of a great weekend, some hours of sleep and relaxation, and some good Skype time with the family, Jen (happy birthday!), Geoff, and Mark, I find myself in a much different frame of mind. We spent yesterday roaming some new streets in Seoul, eating anything the street vendors carried that didn’t look like pig snout or blood sausage, and even succeeding in some bargain shopping (well, I succeeded, and Chris brought home an exciting AP Chemistry textbook). Today we both had to work a little, but we had time for a short hike on our backyard mountain, which was positively seething with Korean fitness activities (see the be-visored hoola-hooper on the right - these hoops are heavy and have weird plastic spikes, and are provided at many of the exercise oases that punctuate the hiking trails). I don’t know that we did or saw anything that merits one of my characteristic long-winded descriptions, so instead of trying to wax poetic, I’ll just sip my green tea and paste in some photos to show the highlights of the beautiful Korean autumn. Green tea, by the way, is great, for those of you who don’t drink it. I really do think it has a noticeably positive effect on my body and my mood. In the back of my mind I’m considering it as an eventual coffee replacement, but after meeting some co-workers this year who drink so much coffee that they shake perpetually, I’m feeling fairly healthy about my own addiction. (Let’s not talk about the fact that I bought an extra coffee maker for my classroom.)

Pictures: Chris christened this street Squid Alley, but that's not to say that ojingo - squid - is not available everywhere, in every conceivable form. Usually it's dry and hard. Sometimes when I'm playing "I can assimilate!" I eat it, but most of the time there are more exciting street food options to be had. Next: this little river (on the right) cuts through the heart of downtown Seoul, and provides a pleasant alternative sidewalk after you're tired of saying excuse me with your elbows and perusing plastic-wares and pirated DVD's on the regular streets. Then: we happened upon this pastoral scene outside a gun shop - the fawn wearing the ammo clip is especially touching. It's a good thing there are no animals in this country . . . oh wait, maybe this is why? Finally, our favorite Seoul tea-house - we've been there twice now, both because it's charming and because we can't successfully locate any of the other ones. The name is wonderful: Moon Bird Thinks Only of the Moon. And somehow, although neither of us are real tea drinkers, a cup of traditional Korean tea at this place is worth 6,000 won, or the amount you would pay for . . . oh, maybe 30 dried leg of squid, two pounds of blood sausage, an entire tripe dinner . . . that is to say, about six bucks. If you're wondering about the title of this entry - I am finally beginning to master Korean numbers (Chris understood them instantly, but it's taking me a while - they're tricky because there are two numbering systems), and o-man won (or fifty dollars, roughly, but going up if that damn dollar doesn't get with it!) is the cost of the beautiful Marmot winter jacket I found at the BlackYak store in Seoul. Non-Seattlites who don't share the obsession with outdoorsy outerwear will be nonplussed by this information, but when you consider that the other western-brand jackets I'd been looking at were priced between $400 - $850 and that I nearly tried on a coat by NorthFace knockoff, "The Full Rush Hour" (?? this makes "The RedFace" and "Hampster Sport" seem like sensible brand names) you may get an idea of why I'm so excited about my new winter coat.

Apologies for an extremely rambling post, but none for the deeply satisfying fact that I had the time on a Sunday to actually write it - 안녕히게세요 (major progress on the Korean typing this week!), or goodbye.