Seoraksan and jimjilbang initiation

Sarah and I had been planning on a weekend break to Seoraksan National Park in Gangwan-do, the neighbouring province, for a few weeks but so far we hadn’t been able to get a dog-sitter for the little Shih Tzu we had recently taken in. Just as we had found a friend to look after him, up popped a helpful Korean who wanted to have him permanently. Although we (Sarah in particular) were fond of the charismatic little bugger, it wasn’t fair to keep him in the short-term and then palm him off to someone else once our time in Korea was up. So, with a tear in the eye, we parted company on Friday night. Suddenly bereft of dog, we were free to go on our excursion, hoorah!!


We did our research and found there was a bus to leave nearby Sangbong bus terminal at 5:50 am. This meant getting up at 5:00 am. Not something we were accustomed to in Korea, where we normally rise at a leisurely 11am. No biggie, we could always sleep on the bus. Our plan was to take a bus to Wontong, then a local bus to Namgyo-ri, where we would start a 7 hour hike through Sibiseonnyeotang valley, passing numerous waterfalls and peaks, arriving at the other side of the park just before nightfall. There was pretty much no room for any unforeseen delays, errors on our part etc as we didn’t fancy trekking through the wilderness in the darkness. We arrived at Sangbong at 5:30, but much to our displeasure there were no buses scheduled to leave before 6am and no buses going to Wongtong (our initial destination) until 9:30!! This was odd as it’s fairly straightforward to find reliable info on Korea’s excellent transportation system and we had no issues in the past. There’s always a chance this can happen of course and we just had to swallow it and find an alternative route. It looked like we wouldn’t have time to the do our long valley trek after all. Nay mind, the park is littered with different hikes, so we would just take on another.

So, we took a bus to a town called Hongcheon, where we would have to change for Wontong. During this time I hoped to catch up on some much needed sleep as obviously it was still very early and still dark outside. However, we hadn’t banked on having a Korean speed demon bus driver taking us to our destination. The guy was absolutely hell-bent on getting there as fast as humanely possible. I didn’t even know coaches could travel at that speed, it was akin to the scene form Harry Potter with the magic bus which takes him to Hogwart's. And all the time he was pounding on the horn, tearing it round corners, over-taking cars. I often feel like I am placing my life in the hands of an anonymous person whilst on buses in Korea, but this really did push it a bit far. Especially as it was so early in the morning and I couldn’t help thinking how much soju the guy had probably consumed the night before. Somehow we made it to a stop in one piece, and then it became clear why the guy was driving at light speed. After pulling over, he quickly made us change buses halfway through so he could put his feet up, whilst another (thankfully, calmer) driver could take us the rest of the way to Hongcheon. Cheeky bugger, but fair play to him I suppose!

After a 40 minute transfer from Hongcheon, we then actually arrived in Wontong at 9:50, exactly the same time, we would have if we had caught our original bus! The original bus must have taken a long route and our off-the-cusp changed plan must have been more direct somehow. Either way we were happy that we could once again take our intended hike. A short local bus ride from Wontong and we were near the entrance to the Sibiseonnyeotang valley. Hurrah! We walked the last 10 minutes to the entrance and then to our disbelief we came to a large no entry sign prohibiting us from joining the beginning of the course. Although this was strange we weren’t going to let a small stumbling block like this deter us after all our early morning efforts. However, as we were just about to duck under the partition, a Korean guy stuck his head out from his little hut next to the track and made it clear through gesticulations that we could not go down the track today! Upon closer inspection, it appeared we could not do the course between 15 November and 15 December due to risk of forest fire. We were a week late!! After verbally lettign that sign know how we felt about this (not the Korean guy) we reluctantly turned round with our tails between our legs and sullenly trudged back to the bus stop. A few metres from the guy’s hut, we inspected the surrounding area to see if there was a way past, but we would have had to go too far out the way to try and make it. It really wasn’t meant to be that day. So we hightailed it back to Wontong, then it was 2 more buses before we made it to Seorak-dong, the heart of the park, where some of the best peaks and scenery can be found. We would actually be able to do some walking! It had taken 7 buses and 8 hours but finally we would be able to immerse ourselves in the park!


Seorak-dong is the central area of the park where probably the most famous peak is situated. This peak, Ulsan-Bawi, at 873m is not staggeringly high, but we heard it has a fairly steep ascent via huge metal steps. At the beginning of the walk we passed a huge statue of sitting Buddha, which was certainly the biggest we had seen so far, but probably pales in comparison to others around Asia. About half hour up, we reached the bottom of the aforementioned steps and they do look pretty formidable. There are 808 in total and they frequently change in steepness and also slant in all manner of directions at various points. The actual structure itself creaks and shakes badly in places and part of you wonders how often they are tested for safety. I’m guessing never. But that’s the way it is in Korea, people just don’t question things like this, they just get on with it. Mountain climbing and hiking (in addition to road safety) is really where Koreans show off their fearless streak. People of ALL ages negotiate these tricky mountains, it’s not surprising to be over-taken by a grandma (older people are so fit out here, if they are not climbing a mountain, they are bench-pressing the free fitness equipment in a park around Seoul) or see children clambering over rocks at the summit, their parents seemingly blasé to the very real prospect of plummeting off. This type of activity would never be allowed back in Britain without proper training, the safety police would clamp down on it instantly. But this is the Korean way. After another 45 minutes or so we made it to the top and the view was magnificent, it was definitely some of the most breath-taking, rugged scenery I’ve ever seen. I was almost as impressed by the older gent right on top of the peak, selling hot coffee and other refreshments from a little cart. How he got the cart up there in the first place is an amazing achievement in itself, yet he also scales the mountain every day (with fresh supplies) to sell people beverages. What a guy. After a very windy lunch up top, we came back down just in time to take a cable car (well we’d already climbed one mountain and it was getting dark) to the opposite peak and then we headed back to our motel in Oseak, on the perimeter of the park. Although it wasn’t the day we originally planned we saw some incredible scenery and it all turned out rather well.

Another real draw for us to come to Seoraksan National Park was the hot springs all around the area, which we were keen get involved in. A popular past-time in Korea is to visit a jimjilbang. A jimjilbang is a public bath house where Koreans like to unwind, enjoy various pools of different temperatures, saunas and steam rooms. All naked as the day they were born. We weren’t sure if the spring facility we would be using was a jimjilbang or if it was more of a mixed, swimming pool type affair. We checked with our motel owner if her spring was mixed, she said no, but there was one in a bigger motel we could use up the road. Buoyed by this, we set off thinking we could wear swimmng clothes in an mixed bath house. I have no reservations about getting my kit off in front of strangers, this happens every time I go to the gym, but I would have preferred to use the same one as Sarah, then we could chat and relax together. When we arrived we were given clothes to wear and ushered into separate changing rooms. We then told to meet back in the reception. I walked through the large, very modern changing room and noticed that to my left were huge glass doors. Beyond these doors I could see through to the bath house itself. There certainly weren’t any women in there and there certainly weren’t any clothes either. It looked like Sarah and I were to relax separately that night, jimjilbang style. I was therefore confused by the clothes they had given us but these were for the mixed zone, which contained a bar, sauna rooms and massage chairs. It seems Korean men and women enjoy the separation from each other at these times, allowing each sex to relax without interruption from the other. Plus Koreans are generally quite body-shy, the idea of dis-robing in public within view of the opposite sex, whilst certainly not taboo, is still not too common. Many Koreans still elect to cover up at the beach and at public swimming pools. So it was to be that I was to have the full jimjilbang experience. I was comfortable with this, in addition to eating dog (why haven't I done that yet?), it's one of the 'must-do' things I still need to achieve whilst in Korea. So without much further ado, I dropped the towel and got involved. I was expecting to be stared at upon entering the bath area (Koreans often find foreigners fascinating most of the time - let alone a naked one), but I was pleasantly surprised to find out no-one was that bothered. It was after all, a modern spring in a posh hotel in a touristy area of Korea, they were probably used to the odd Johnny Foreigner strolling about without his clothes on. And later on, there were many like-minded Westerners there too, experiencing an authentic Korean past-time.

After showering I got straight into a 39 degree pool filled with pine-needle water. Bliss! The hot water immediately began easing the strain of all those steps earlier on. After a few minutes soaking in there I was like a kid on a sweet shop, dipping myself into all manner of watery treats. There was an open air pool, a strange bright pink coloured pool (there was no English description on this one so I had no idea what made it that colour) and various other pools. The most excitingly-named one was the "hot carbon acid spring" which did not sound like something I wanted to dip my finger into, let alone my man parts. However, other people there weren't writhing in agony with flesh falling off the bone, so I eased myself in. There was a strong odour of metal and the water felt strange to the skin but I persisted and started to relax. The blurb on the wall informed me the spring contained iron, phosphorus and other naturally occurring chemicals which are apparently very good for the health. I stayed put for about 5 minutes but the lower temperature made me vacate fairly quickly. My skin felt very odd when I emerged but I think it's meant to do that. I went straight back in the hot pool and remained there for the rest of my time there. I had such a deep sense of relaxation, the Koreans are really onto something with the whole jimjilbang thing. It definitely wont be my last time to visit one of these places. The next day was did some more walking around the park, through a beautiful valley near our motel, before taking the long journey back to Seoul. However, the return journey suprisingly consisted of just one solitary bus, which made things somewhat easier. Seoraksan National Park is must do for anyone in Korea, we loved it so much we are thinking of going back in December to attempt the Sibiseonnyeotang valley course. This time armed with better information.

Dinner Party

2 weeks ago Sarah and I were invited out for dinner by her new boss. We would be dining with Mrs Yu (the boss), her husband, who happens to be a former Korean diplomat to Britain and her co-workers. Something a bit different for a Saturday night AND a free meal. We had to travel to the Southern reaches of Seoul, a fair distance from our abode up in the North-East. We really didn't want to be late and to make a good impression. Sarah's boss had only been there a week, plus the fact her husband was a pretty important guy (these things are worth double in Korean culture - especially as he is an older guy - the pinnacle of the Korean social hierarchy). Of course though, we managed to get to our meeting point 10 minutes late. Then we had to find a payphone as our second phone from Korea is also now out of action. And of course the Law of the Sod decided that the only payphone insight was occupied. Wonderful. Eventually, after Sarah and I huffed and puffed around the phone box for a while the guy finished his call and we were able to tell our hosts we had (belatedly) arrived. A flash car then came to pick us up with our host for the evening, Mr Yu, driving it. We hastily apologised for our tardiness, but Mr Wu gently waved away our apologies. He seemed like a nice guy. His English was also excellent, which can sometimes be a slight issue at Korean dinners.

We arrived at the restaurant which was actually part of the National University of Korea. We made our way into the plush reception area and Sarah and I immediately regretted our attire of jeans and trainers. Oops, maybe should have dressed up a little more. My apprehension began to grow as we were then ushered to a private room, where we would be dining that night. The room consisted of one large circular table, with 8 Korean females around the table. The atmosphere immediately felt stifling and tense. We sat down and nobody was talking to each other at all. I soon realised a vacuum must have been left in the room when Mr Yu had come to pick us up because within seconds he was chatting to me in English and did not let up for the whole 3 hours we were there. No-one else got a look in. Although this was a welcome relief to the silence with which we were greeted, it was pretty hard going too. Korean culture is totally male-dominated, so with me being the only other guy in the room, all Mr Wu's oratory was directed solely at me. This also meant all eyes were on me and all ears on my responses, as Mr Wu set out to find out more about me. Although, he was a pleasant and even amusing man, the whole experience did seem a bit like a job interview and I found myself searching for the best answer, rather than just speaking my mind.

After a few minutes of this, Mr Wu explained that in our absence, each other guest had given a brief speech about themselves and he had written notes on everyone to help him remeber (probably an old diplomat trick). And of course, it wouldn't have been fair if Sarah and I were not to have the same platform to speak about ourselves! I gave a quick rundown about myself (or rather the aspects he thought he wanted to hear about) and even manged to raise a few sympathetic laughs along the way. I viewed it as brief speaking practice for my best man's speech I have to give next summer in its most basic form. Except next year, I'll be stitching up my mate, rather than trying to big myself up, so it'll be pretty different. And when the real thing happens, there will only be about 20 times the amount of people there. Still, any practice is welcome.

The meal itself consisted of 3 courses, salad, soup then Italian style steak, washed down with some pretty good red wine. Considering I was half-expecting Shabu Shabu (Mongolian cuisine which Koreans normally enjoy feeding me) this was certainly a turn-up for books! Although I was very grateful to my host for inviting us out for dinner and delivering top-notch grub, it was a little difficult to enjoy the fine food. Mr. Wu was much more interested in regaling me in tales from either his childhood (actually very interesting, he had to be evacuated from Seoul to Busan at the outbreak of the Korean War. He made the journey on foot when he was 2 years old. It took him a month of solid walking!) or his work for the Korean Embassy in London (not quite as interesting), than he was bothered about eating. Of course then I couldn't eat as I normally would, which usually resembles feeding time at the zoo, as I had to be on hand to give reassuring utterances that I was taking in all the information presented to me. My Wu was so intent on delivering which was at times, a monologue, that he had at one point two courses stacked up and ready to be eaten. I remember reading in my Lonely Planet that it is considered rude in Korea to finish your dinner before your elders, so I made sure at least Mrs Wu always finished before me. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to wait for Mr Wu to finish, but as this was unlikely to ever happen I decided it was okay to finish after his wife. I noticed that none of the other guests (except Mrs Wu) finished any of their courses, but I decided what was good enough fo the diplomat's wife was good enough for me! And to honest I was willing to cause slight offence rather than see this delicious grub go to waste. If I had been with a different group of people I would have finished all their steaks off as well, such is the lack of red meat I have had recently, but I had to be respectful of the fact I couldn't just interrupt my host with "Yo Mr Wu, are you finishing that steak or what?!!"

It was definitely hard-going having pretty much all the conversation directed at me. It's strange coming from a country like Britain which, I'm not kidding myself, is still a patriarchal society (but much more implicitly) to a country where the male really is king. Even though all the information could have been just as, if not more interesting for any of the female guests, it was pretty much all directed towards me. Sarah was referred to briefly at times, but it really was a cultural contrast to not have all the people at the table addressed on a more equal basis. It was also different from our own culture in that fact that there were almost no other conversation going on at the table. We were pretty much just here to listen to the powerful male, be gracious that he paid for the meal (the elder always pays) and speak when spoken to. It was almost like being thrust back to (how I imagine) Victorian times!!

Eventually we finished our meals and coffee was brought out. This meant time for more public speaking. Yippee! Although Mr Wu had been honing the oratory skills which must have served him well as a diplomat, he also wanted to us give our chance on the speak (when he deemed appropriate). We each had to deliver an impromptu toast, which was kind of embarrassing as we had to serve up the old cliches, but it was another one of those character-building occassions. Mr Wu kindly offered to give us a lift back to the subway station. En route he gave us an obligatory tour of the university, then we were free to go! We then made our way to Gangnam, which wasn't too far away and where we could wind down with some good quality beer from Castle Praha. We certainly needed it after the hard work we had put in that night.

Mythologies 2

Something I’ve been asked many times since being in Korea, particularly it seems by my female Korean colleagues is “what blood type are you?” At first I was rather baffled by this seemingly arbitrary question. To one from the West this question carries about as much relevance as “what is your average pulse rate?” or “what is your favourite household detergent?” but to many in Korea this is a pertinent question. At first I thought, Korea may be lacking in blood reserves of a certain type and that my vital fluid was being eyed up for donation and I was just about to be carted off to the nearest hospital for more extraction. However, much like some misguided people in the West and their attachment to horoscopes and astrology, many Koreans sign-up for the idea that the population of the world can be divided into a mere 4 groups, depending on whether your blood happens to be type A, AB, B or O.

I don’t actually know what my blood type is and I believe most people from the West don’t have a clue either. Why would we need to know? If we had an accident and required transfusion our blood would be tested for its type and then replenished (depending on supplies of course, we are always led to believe blood reserves are low). Simple. However, when I informed my colleagues that I had no idea, this was at first greeted with disbelief that I didn’t know and then dismay as I could not be placed into a neat category predetermined by my biological makeup. Which is just as well as it seems some people place stigmas on people within a certain grouping. Through a quick bit of research, I discovered that women in particular favour the male with type-B for a bit of excitement and gratification but when it comes to settling down with one, that is another matter. Type-B males (and for some reason this only applies to males, women with type-B seem to be exempt from this prejudice) are known as heartbreakers and only good for brief romances which will inevitably end in tears for the unfortunate woman. B’s are also thought to be impulsive, irrational, but on the plus side, very passionate (hence the short-time romance attraction). This viewpoint has been prevalent in Korea for years now and has even permeated popular culture, the K-Pop singer, Kim Hyun-jung, released a song called "Type-B Men” which was widely listened to. Poor male type-Bs. If they are looking to settle down they may be in trouble in Korea.

I had the opportunity to discuss this with one of Korean co-workers the other day. I asked her whether the whole blood type thing was serious or if it was just a bit of fun. My co-worker replied she believed in it and that it is indeed important to her. She then pressed me again for my type, so I reminded her that I still don’t know (even my own dear mother doesn’t know) She told me that when she first met me, she thought I was an ‘A’, but now she thinks I’m a ‘B’. At the time I hadn’t researched the different connotations attached to the different types so I just dismissed it. However, when I found out I laughed pretty hard. I have been in a very happy relationship for nearly 2 years with Sarah. We live together and get on brilliantly. Even in the past I don’t think I could ever be described as a ‘heartbreaker’ and anyone that properly knows me would say that I am pretty mild-mannered and practical. Alas, I’m certainly not excitingly impulsive or irrational, like my presumed type! I continued to talk to my her about this whole concept and brought up the question that what if she didn’t know a man’s blood type, became involved, then found out he was a ‘less desirable’ type, then how would this affect things? She laughed and said that would never happen as she would find out for sure exactly what type any would-be suitors were, before even considering any kind of romance with him! Seems like the men here might have their work cut-out securing a long-term partner. Good luck type-B’s, you’re going to need it!

Vanity Pre-Veils

Korea has been an expanding economy since the early 1960s, when the dictator Park Chung-Hee rose to power. Although his rule was autocratic and unpopular, it led to mass industrialisation of the country and the large-scale movement from the country to the towns. This led to a boom in the economy which gave Korea a platform to build on and became the high-tech industry powerhouse with which it’s associated today. Seoul itself is a prosperous, ultra-modern metropolis with a modern infrastructure and in particular, a fantastic Metro system, with the rest of the country being dragged along into the so-called ‘first-world country’ bracket. All this relative new wealth and the population movement from rural to urban life is obviously fundamental in the stability and indeed the progression of the Korean people (well South Korea anyway, it goes without saying the North is an entirely different kettle of fish). This however, comes at a cost. Over-population, environmental concerns and unemployment are issues facing any major city in the world and these are certainly prevalent issues in Seoul too. However, the issue which I would like to discuss is far more important, than any of these. It is the pervasive, sinister threat of VANITY.

Every modern city in the world will have the trappings of wealth. Wanting to look one’s best is not necessarily a bad thing. And far be it that a young(ish) male like myself would criticise the particular Korean attachment to high heels and tiny, tiny shorts. This love for somewhat impractical fashion is nothing new, especially in a burgeoning metropolis now so influenced by Western (and particularly American) culture. And of course, every major city has its fashion-conscious element which rigidly follows the current trend and in no way am I singling out Seoul for special treatment. However, this fondness of such fashion is so unerring that it’s not uncommon to see a girl getting her high heels stuck in the sand on a beach. Or even more hilariously, when Koreans love of hiking clashes with the inflexibility of their fashion whims and someone comes tottering past you on stilettos up a bloody mountain! It is when this preoccupation for impractical clothing almost sends you to your death that you really should start asking yourself questions.

And of course, if one is to go to such efforts for a stroll up a nearby mountain, then one must check one’s appearance at every given opportunity. The constant mirror gazing is not reserved to private moments but is blatantly adhered to anywhere and everywhere, including once again, the beach. A recent visit to Jungman beach on Jeju Island was very amusing due to the behaviour of two young women there. They seemed to spend most of their time posturing and pouting to no-one in particular in between checking their appearance at least every 5 minutes. Honestly, what could have changed since the last time they checked? It’s unlikely some terrible affliction could have occurred in that time. Although, maybe a stray hair out of place is just as dramatic to these simple beings. What was also comical was the way these girls would edge up to the water, dip their toe in and then frantically scurry back to the safety of their mirrors. They didn’t even go in the ocean for God’s sake! However, what really took the biscuit was a trip to the local swimming pool. Again, there were two girls slinking around the pool edge taking photos of each other on their bikinis from every conceivable angle. And don’t forget this isn’t some glamorous shoot in the Maldives, this is at a jam-packed family swimming pool in the centre of Seoul.

This penchant for self-admiration is not reserved for the female population of Seoul, either. Far from it in fact. The average Korean male is rather stylish (or certainly more so than an English scruffbag like myself) and he also spends a large proportion of his free time gawking at his own reflection. Males also like to look their best on the beach and many young bucks like to parade around in what appear to be far too small briefs with massive padding in the front. Perhaps, the most blatant observation occurred last week though. I had to laugh out loud at one young chap in the public bathroom taking photos of the top of his head, just so he could check the hair that was out of eyesight! That surely is taking it too far and this guy should take a long, hard look at himself. Or maybe that’s the problem. . . . . .

Mr Han

Mr Han is the security guard at our apartment building. Although how much more ‘secure’ he makes our building is debatable. He’s certainly not the most intimidating man you could ever seen. Not that you can actually see him because the bugger refused to be photographed! It's unfortunate there is no image of the creature that is Mr Han, so you'll just have to conjure up a mental picture yourself. In a nutshell, he looks like a decrepit version of Mr Miyagi wearing a kid's policeman uniform.


Maybe, his appearance is a fallacy, though. After all, Mr Miyagi, Daniel Son’s sensi from the Karate Kid franchise, barely looked like he could lift those chopsticks, but all those evil-doers that crossed him soon found out that the old man could more than handle himself. Maybe Mr Han’s the same, they certainly bear some similarities (what? they are both old and Asian – well done racist) and maybe he’s just waiting to flying kick some malevolent David Hasselhoff lookalike into submission. He must be over 80 (I don’t think the Korean government’s too big on pension plans) and he is so small he makes me seem like an imposing giant, a feat previously unheard of. He really is a sweet old man and the soppy thing is whenever we have one of our frequent interactions a little bit of my heart goes out to him. Sarah and I are forever yearning for a pocket-Mr Han, so he could be all snug and cosy in your top pocket, ready to be plucked out and looked at whenever you need a bit of cheering up. Truth, is I could probably just pick him up and perch him on my shoulder and have a parrot-Mr. Han, which would also be great. I wonder which would be better. . . . . . . . .

As well as his physical appearance, Mr. Han is a great guy. He always tries to initiate conversation, although his English is very basic (but somewhat better than my Korean!), Despite this we have polite and smiley, if somewhat brief exchanges, which I’m sure are mutually enjoyable for both parties. It’s nice to see a friendly face when Mr Han’s working his shift, which is a stark contrast to the other grumps that also work the door at our place. Obtaining a modicum of humanity from these guys it seems is an impossible task and I actually bore the brunt of one of these curmudgeonly crabs in the recycling area. Korea is BIG on recycling which is great, but I didn’t realise quite how seriously they took it until I accidentally placed a plastic milk bottle amongst the other plastic bottles (can there be a more grave error?) One of the these guys happened to be present and after I made this mistake gave me a hard, cold glare. He then looked away and made a loud, almost sub-human sound, which I can only liken to the noise a maternal dragon might make if one attempted to steal her unhatched offspring. It was that scary. I made a swift departure and vowed never to be so laid back when it comes recycling in Korea again.

Anyway back to the main man. Although our conversation rarely gets beyond pleasantries, it is Mr Han’s cheeky, boyish nature that is his real charm. He is like one of my students whenever we return from the corner shop, he always curiously rummages through our shopping bag. Maybe he’s just fulfilling the security aspect of his job, making sure we haven’t purchased explosives from the grocers and are planning to take down the apartment block. He certainly does have a good root through each bag, but I think it’s just because a) he’s incredibly bored (those solitary 24 hour shifts he pulls must really dull the grey matter) and b) he wants to show off the fact he has a surprisingly good English vocabulary. The great thing is and much to mine and Sarah’s amusement he often pronounces words with an almost flawless English accent. Unfortunately, due to our lack of mutual understanding we have not been able to ascertain how Mr Han acquired this Received Pronunciation. Maybe the Queen’s speech is broadcast in Korea every Christmas and Mr Han hangs on her every word, Kimchi replacing the traditional sprouts on his roast dinner plate as he watches. Who knows? Another great thing about Mr Han is that he always tries to chat up Sarah when I’m not about. The old charmer often compliments her on her hair and tells her she’s beautiful. The other evening, Sarah was wearing a pair of rather short cut-offs and he pointed at her legs, gave a little chuckle and said “very good, very good!” Subtlety ain’t his strongpoint and he’s getting bolder, I was actually present during this shameless bout of womanising. Maybe there’s life on the old dog yet.

Mr Han has many an attribute and I feel fortunate that I can interact with him. He is, however, a confusing bugger at times. Predictably, this stems not only from the language barrier, but I think also the cultural and generational gap. He really does cause us the odd bit of stress. For instance, on the second day being here, we were escorted from our apartment by our employers and taken to the local hospital for the mandatory tests that every working foreigner has to endure in order to remain in employment in Korea, subject to the results of course. We were aware we would have to do this, but we under the impression we could do this at our leisure, possibly weeks after arrival. To be forced into doing this on our second day in the country when stress levels were already at an all time high, was certainly an inconvenience. We weren’t even sure what the tests involved and to have our employers there with us to hold our hands did not diminish our anxiety one bit. Anyway, the tests began, which started off nice and gently with hearing and eyesight. The Korean doctor appeared satisfied with this and then motioned for me to approach a female doctor sat behind a desk. A female doctor with a hypodermic needle primed and ready to extract my precious blood! All sorts of paranoid notions went through my mind as I imagined some militant haematologist stringently assessing my vital fluid, looking for any technicality to get me deported under a cloud of shame. We had also heard horror stories of samples getting switched and even though common sense urged me not indulge in such fantasies, the whole ordeal seemed rather unnecessary and was a tad disconcerting. After this, I then still had to deliver urine and have numerous chest X-rays. Wow, Korea certainly don’t want any old riff-raff in their backyard. We weren’t sure how long the results would take, but considering how efficiently we were processed at the hospital, we thought it would be days not weeks.

With this very much in mind, we went about our business that week, speedily becoming accustomed to our new teaching roles. The steep learning curve was being painfully ascended but overall things were going as well as they could in our first ever week of educating. That was until 2 days later that our new chum Mr Han really put the frighteners up us. We were exiting our building for work when a very stressed Mr Han wheezily approaches us and demands in very broken English that we call our boss, Mr Lee. “Oh shit“, we thought, “something has happened with the test results, Mr Han is really worked up about something, this is not good.” We explained that we going to work now and we could talk to our boss then. However, Mr Han was very insistent that we call right away So, there and then I call Mr Lee, thinking our Korean dream may be coming to a very abrupt end. To my surprise, Mr Lee’s first words were not “you’re fired, you must leave immediately”, in fact it actually seemed that Mr Lee was quizzing me as to my reason’s for making the call to him! This was very strange and also difficult to negotiate as Mr Lee’s English is barely an improvement on Mr Han’s and without the aid of body language the whole conversation was very confusing. Both parties were soon totally bewildered so I passed the phone to the still present Mr Han, who after the briefest of exchanges, hung-up the phone, gave it back to me and ushered us on our way with a hasty “Go, go.” Even more perplexed, we turned around and left for school. To this day we have no idea why we were supposed to call Mr Lee or even if we were supposed to at all. Crazy old Mr Han really got us rattled that day.

Weeks of pleasant exchanges sweetly drifted by and we had almost forgotten how Mr Han had nearly given us heart attacks in that first week. And then 2 weeks ago, he tried to pull another stunt on us again. Upon returning to the flat one day, Mr Han motioned us over to his little office and said “school telephone number” (once again with his spot-on accent, okay his use of grammar isn’t great but his pronunciation is top drawer). Obviously, we had no idea why he wanted this but we weren’t too perturbed at this stage. So, I found the number on my phone and showed him, anticipating he would write it down and pass it on to whoever required it. Instead, he snatched the phone from me, hit the call button and tried to ring the school there and then! However, there were two stumbling blocks to his plan. One was that I had no credit so a call other than to an emergency number was impossible. Also, not only was the daft fool holding the handset upside down but also back-to-front! Trying to suppress a massive grin I let him carry on until he realised he was getting nowhere. With annoyance, he handed the phone back to me we went on our way, still unsure why he wanted to call the school. We thought it possible we had been too noisy coming back late one night and another resident had complained. We decided the best course of action would be to try and avoid Mr Han for as long as possible until he forgot all about it. Simple.

This plan worked for a few days until I received a call from a very worried sounding Sarah who had just been cornered by the old codger on her way to work. He was apparently very stressed again and demanded that the school call him immediately. Sarah was pretty worried as our normally docile and friendly guard was pretty angry with us and it sounded important. As my director, Mrs Lee, speaks better English than her husband I decided to ask her to call Mr Han. After stressing it sounded important, Mrs Lee eventually called Mr Han after half an hour of fretting over what it could be this time. I wasn’t as concerned as the last time a similar scenario arose but I didn’t really want to get into trouble at the school. Mrs Lee phoned Mr Han from a shared phone in the office so I could hear (although not understand of course) what was going on. A fairly lengthy, almost heated exchange took place and I began to fear the worst. Mrs Lee finished the call, replaced the handset and turned to address me. Fortunately, she was smiling so I was able to sigh with relief. The old fool had got us again! He was stressed because of some minor parking infringement which had nothing to do with us whatsoever!! Cheers, Mr Han. 2-0 to you, but we won’t be letting him catch us out again. Hopefully.

Mythologies

It is certainly not my place to mock the superstitions and belief systems of another country, especially one that has let me, an unqualified, never-before-taught, ‘teacher’ educate the brood of the nation and paying me rather well in comparison to the home-grown natives. I’m all for celebrating ‘cultural diversity’ and all the perceived quirks and eccentricities that one from outside that culture will experience. As Korea is a developed country, I did not expect there to be many outlandish beliefs. It’s not exactly a tribal community, isolated from external influence after all. However, one widely entertained myth that Koreans sign-up for that boggles the hell out of us Westerners is ‘fan death’. Yes, that’s right ‘fan death.’ And not even the dramatic type that almost claimed the lives of Charlie and his Grandpa Pa after they became intoxicated on Willy Wonka’s home brew and almost floated to their peril. Oh no, Korean’s believe that if you are left in a closed room with a fan turned on then YOU WLL DIE. I’m not even joking.

There are a few ‘theories’ behind this urban legend. One is that the mechanism of the fan blades actually sucks in the oxygen from the air, leaving the ‘victim’ with nothing but carbon dioxide to breathe. Another (and even more incredible notion if possible) is that the action of the spinning blades actually chops up oxygen molecules in the air, rendering them useless for human absorption. Another is that the common fan can induce hypothermia. All of which are of course complete bollocks with no scientific foundation whatsoever. These crazy ideas beggar belief and after hearing this from other Westerners I thought that this was a myth solely subscribed to by a couple of old country bumpkins out in the sticks somewhere.

So I decided to bring up the subject at lunchtime with the Korean teachers, the oldest of which is 31, so not exactly geriatric. I thought they would laugh off the idea that intelligent, young urbanites such as themselves would corroborate with such nonsense. However, they were fully behind the idea and assured me, with passionate conviction, I might add, that it was true. After pushing a bit into how there is no scientific backing into this idea, they got a bit shirty and told me they knew a friend of someone (oh right, that old chestnut) who had died at the hands (or blades maybe?) of a simple household fan. Apparently, Westerners always question this and it really got the teachers' backs up. So I let it drop. For now. But I know the next time I go out for a few drinks with them I will have to take up the cudgels once again. It’s just so ridiculous. Actually I think I’m going to make it my personal quest during my stay here to convince a Korean that this cannot possibly be true.

This is not an isolated incident in terms of bizarre ideas. One of Sarah’s students thinks you cannot fly on a plane if you have a tattoo. Sarah really wanted to reveal the inkwork on her back and say “Oh really. How do you think I got here then? Bicycle?” But thankfully she didn’t. Koreans generally have a bit of a problem with tattoos, which is probably how this notion became propagated, scare-mongering by an elder to keep their precious offspring from tampering with “God’s work.” I blame the parents.

Any more myths, urban legends, falsifications, old-wives tales or miscellaneous nonsense will be posted as and when I discover it!

4 weeks in

It has now been 4 weeks since Sarah and I arrived in the crazy land that is Seoul and good ol' Bristol certainly seems very far away indeed. It has taken some adjusting to the Korean way of life, but slowly we are getting there. So here goes, first ever blog entry. . . . .

We arrived a few Sundays ago after a LONG flight in which we had no sleep whatsoever. We tried to save our sleeping for the second leg of the flight to try and keep our body clocks in sync with the upcoming time difference. However, this was a massive error as the flight was rammed and we couldn't vacate our allotted seats for spare ones where we could spread out. Also, me and Sarah had the window and middle seats and we had some guy on the aisle seat. Sarah and I don't have the strongest bladders as it is and we didn't want to keep asking this guy to keep getting up all the time. So, I politely asked him if he would like to swap seats with Sarah. He declined (fair enough), but then proceeded to instantly fall asleep and remained so for the entire 10 hour flight. He may as well have just swapped if he planned to be in the Land of Nod for the whole journey! When I did need to excuse myself he motioned for me to just climb over him, rather then he get up. This resulted in me having to straddle the sleeping randomer every time (which was many) I needed to get out! Certainly not what I had in mind before the plane took off.

In fact, any excitement I should have been experiencing about the upcoming complete change of culture and lifestyle was smothered by the cramped, hot conditions of this flight. However, as we approached landing, strong feelings of terror quickly replaced our irritation as we realised that in less than an hour we would be meeting our new bosses, after no sleep and looking like shite. Not ideal.

Our bosses had arranged for a taxi pick-up from the airport, so at least we didn't have to fanny around trying to navigate our way to our new abode. The taxi driver was friendly enough, but our feelings of apprehension were not aided by the fact that he had a book open on his lap and was actually reading on the motorway! To be honest, I'm not if it was "War and Peace" or a directions to the apartment, but this freaked us out somewhat. Somehow, especially considering the complete lack of care demonstrated by the other drivers on the motorway, we eventually made it to the apartment. We got out of the taxi and were greeted by a very smiley couple in their 40s, Mr & Mrs Lee, our new Korean bosses who run the schools we were to work in. An honest, beaming smile can be so much more important than words, which was just as well, as their English skills are pretty minimal! This came as a bit of a surprise seeing as they run English academies and we were looking at them for guidance in this strange new land. Luckily, the previous teacher left us some pretty good notes to help us work out the local area and get to school on time etc. The one thing we did get from our bosses was that we had to start teaching THE NEXT DAY (by this time it's 6pm), no orientation, no training, just straight up in front of classes of Korean children. OH SHIT! Mr and Mrs Lee left us to it to let the news sink in and we tried (in vain) not to worry too much. Eventually, we managed to get some sleep. We knew that once the first day was out the way, the only way was up.

After a poor amount of sleep, nowhere near enough to offset any effects of jet-lag, we were rudely awakened in the morning by a neighbouring elementary school. There were about 100 children, marching and chanting around the school yard whilst being drilled by a teacher on a megaphone. Bizarrely, this did not force me from my bed to address my new surroundings in the light of day, but a loud tannoy inside our flat at about 10 0'clock did. A female Korean voice began booming out of the wall right next to our bedroom, we presumed it must have been some kind of public service announcement. And there was me thinking we were in democratic South Korea, not north of the border! I suppose it could have actually been something useful, like alerting us to a potentially life-threatening fire or something, but it made me think I was being indoctrinated in our own humble dwelling. With this unexpected intrusion into our private apartment and the children's boot camp outside, the feelings of apprehension were revved to the limit by now. Just what was in store for us once we actually started work?

So anyway, I get to school the next day (which is actually a pretty plush, very modern academy) and have 2 hours to prepare from the previous teachers notes, have a guided tour and meet my (all female) Korean colleagues. Fortunately, their English is much better than our employers, so with a little guidance, I was able to begin to get my head around the first lesson. However, that was just my first lesson, I had 6 others to do that afternoon and most of them were back-to-back with zero time to prepare for each one! Standing in front of my first class was actually much less daunting than I anticipated and I pulled through, relatively unscathed. Somehow, I managed to wing that first day and thankfully, it's dramatically improved since then. However, the school seems to be run on an ad hoc basis, which means every now and then I'm told to teach something completely different just before my class, when I've been preparing for something else! You just have to roll with it though, so I'm getting used to that pretty quickly.

The other teachers are really nice and friendly though and have helped me settle in. The kids themselves started out pretty tame and I thought "this is going to be a doss", but now they are a bit more used to me they have started playing up a bit, especially the younger ones. Boisterous does not even come close. I might have to start cracking the whip soon, corporal punishment isn't outlawed here (no joke) so I might start making some threats soon, haha! One kid tried to shine a laser pen in my eye today so he's definitely going to get it first. Seriously though, some of them are really sweet and give me presents and the older ones are fine. Which is ironic because I was actually looking forward to teaching the younger ones but they are a proper handful. Still, presents are nice. One of my students keeps trying to stroke my arms, body-hair is in short supply out here and she finds my arms fascinating. Another student asked if she could borrow my eyes, which would have been disturbing if she were not a child.

Still I'm not complaining though, I currently have less than 20 hours of actual teaching a week and I'm on more wonga than I was back home. (Probably says more about my job back home than the wages out here, but still!) And I don't have to pay rent. Lovely stuff. Some of my classes only have 1 or 2 students as well and classes get cancelled quite a bit. So you could say I'm leading a bit of a charmed life at the mo! Sarah has got the short straw though, she's at another school, with more classes, worse kids and unfriendly teachers. So it really is pot luck out here. Just hope mine holds out, timetable changes could happen at any time!

The culture out here's pretty intense in some ways. There are various dos and donts when it comes to drinking and eating etiquette of which I am yet to properly learn, but no-one's kicked up a stink about it yet, so all good. A great thing though is that the boss always pays, so we get quality Korean grub everyday, all paid for. Another bonus. Still have yet to eat man's best friend but have indulged in eel and silkworm larvae. Yum! Actually, the larvae just tasted like mud really. They also seem to enjoy battering things about ten times over and NOTHING goes to waste. Sarah and I ordered some chicken in our first week, which came with battered giblets and Parson's Nose. Not pleasant. Luckily, that has been our only unsavoury eating experience to date and since then we have enjoyed authentic Korean cuisine, all cooked on front of us on a barbecue at a restaurant. Fantastic. These types of eateries are ubiquitous throughout Seoul, the Koreans love to eat out, it's a real social event and is something we have embraced whole-heartedly!

Besides the teaching, all is going well. Seoul's pretty mad, polluted and hectic but the people have been on the whole friendly, helpful and patient. Which helps when we speak next to no Korean! Will have to get on that ASAP really. It's proper hot here already and starting to get sticky. And I'm told it's going to get a lot hotter. And we have no air-con on the apartment! The surrounding countryside is beautiful though and a welcome escape from the humidity and smog of the city. Actually going back to the people. . . . . . . .alot of them are really sweet but the one annoying thing is the general public have the spatial awareness of a 2 year-old child! Seriously, irrespective of age, everyone's crashing around, bumping off each other, cutting each other up, as if they are the only person around (I think this has something to do with the Confucian mindset - anyone younger than you is of a lesser status and I'm probably even lower being a foreigner - so apparently I should get out of the way). This was somewhat strange to me at first, coming of course from Britain where about 6 feet of personal space is the bare minimum. As this is my first time to Asia, I have been informed this is the norm, so now I'm just steaming on through with the rest, which is fine. Except for when it's raining, then it's proper 'brolly warfare on the streets. Seriously considering wearing a crash helmet next time it pisses it down.

We've met some interesting characters in the first few weeks too. We actually met an English guy, Henry, who would be staying in Seoul, before we even got there, which was a result! We got chatting to him in during the stop over in Dubai and he seemed proper sound, into similar pursuits as us and better still, he had teacher friends in Seoul we could meet up with whilst he was staying with them. It seemed we might be able to get some kind of teacher network going and we hadn't even set foot on Korean soil yet! We met up with our new chum next weekend, got rather drunk on Soju, the extremely popular Korean drink of choice. Very similar to vodka, but about half the percentage. However, it still does the trick after putting enough down you. His teacher friends didn't make it out on this occasion but we did end up in a gay bar, where Henry proceeded to faux come-on to a geeky Korean, it was hilarious! The Korean didn't know what to do, went to his chums for advice and they launched him back at Henry who couldn't shake the guy for the rest of the night, haha! We arranged to meet up the next week as it was Henry's last night and we would have the opportunity to meet his mates.

The next week we all met up for drinks. Henry's uni mate, Tom was okay (although he strangely had an American accent, even though he's from Sheffield - bizarre. This had best not happen to me!) and another teacher, an American guy was out with us too. However, he was pretty condescending and it was apparent he couldn't really be arsed with us 'newbies' and was more into the 'culture' aspect. Although he still hadn't been to Jeju Island after 2 years and had no idea it was Buddha's birthday celebrations and the Lantern Festival that weekend (not that these are the 'be all and end all' of Korea but come on) After going to an interesting hookah bar called Rainbow (no, not another gay bar), Sarah, Henry and myself split off from the rest of the group to continue our drinking at a club, whilst the others probably went off to do something more 'highbrow.' It was fairly clear that neither party would initiate contact in the future, so Sarah and I would have to resume our quest for permanent friends in Seoul another time. So, onto the club where we had a good time, the club was pumping out house, not quite dirty enough but still good for a bit of stomp. We then had to say our goodbyes to Henry, it was shame, as he was a funny, crazy guy who drank too much soju, much to our enjoyment.

We've been out with two of the Korean teachers from my school a couple of times. They are both really sweet, friendly girls, who also love a piss-up. They took us to a 'booking club' the other day. A booking club is where girls will be taken off one by one by the attendants to a group of guys and the guys will attempt to woo them. This is the way singles meet in Korea. Very different to the English way, haha! The club itself was strange, it looked like a huge Moroccan cavern, with literally about a hundred booths in a vast space with a small dancefloor near the front. Singles were getting paired off by the attendants, whilst the more inexperienced girls danced nervously, hoping to get called over. The whole place reminded me of a bingo hall somewhere in North Africa with the hormonal qualities of a school disco. Brilliant.

We were also taken out for (more overly-battered) chicken and beer by a merry 62 year old businessman who started talking to us on the Metro. Random. Although apparently, not so random here, Koreans will often take an interest in us although this is the first time we were actually taken out. And of course, him being our senior, he picked up the bill. Nice. He was a sweet man who was genuinely interested in us. However, over the course of the evening he became very drunk and it almost became a monologue at times of his attitudes towards everything from religion to relationships. At one point it almost felt like we were at a counselling session, our friend Kim lecturing us on the mysteries of a good relationship! Still, it was good to talk to a South Korean on the subject of North Korea. Turns out he blames America for everything and thinks that suicide bombers are in many ways justified. Yikes!

Anyways, last weekend we met some really nice people (mainly North-Americans, there are tons of them out here!) who are teachers as well, so we are going to a house party at one of theirs and then onto Hongdae which is party central out here. Will be wicked if we all get on well again, I feel sorry for poor Sarah having only having me to talk to all the time!

So that, finally just about sums it up for the first month! Although I've written rather alot, this is really only scratching the surface of everything that has happened so far and all the different thoughts and emotions we've had over the first four weeks. I haven't even discussed the cultural and outdoor things we've done, such as the palaces and the mountain hiking (please see pictures on facebook - they say it all really), but you would probably get even more bored if I wrote down absolutely everything!