The last bite of Korea

So remember how I said I made a quick trip to America? 

Well, I got off the plane and got on a bus.

I got off the bus and got in a taxi.

I got out of the taxi and did this. (So please excuse how tired and unmade I look.)

Bummer

Well, yesterday was a bummer.

Due to personal reasons, my vacation to Italy is being called off.  :(

BUT!  Somehow, an overwhelming peace has washed over me about the whole thing.  It's awesome how that happens.

Unfortunately, the airline hit me with a pretty hefty fee, so I'm not going to be able to go abroad for this vacation, but I've been incredibly tired.  It will probably be good for me to relax at home and get some sleep.  I'm going to see if I can get some work *edit: at my old Saturday School* to make up for that fee as well, so it'll all end up okay.  Plus, I haven't explored too much of Korea, so I might go do that; we'll see how I feel.  :)

In the words of Homer:

"Endure my heart, for you have endured worse than this." (The Odyssey, book XX)

It's true.

I found myself wanting to write about how yesterday was "the worst day ever," but it wasn't.  Those of you who know me can wager a guess as to what my worst day was.  I don't really care to detail it again, so if you don't know, just think about your own.  In a way, it's a blessing that I have had such a horrible experience in my life.  Every time something happens that I don't like, I can always think of Homer's quote and that day, and I have something against which to gauge myself: Have I endured worse than this?  Did I survive?  Did it help me in some way?  I have yet to not be able to answer "yes" to those questions.

There's that silver lining, my friends.  I knew there had to be one somewhere...

Lots of love to you.  I'll try to post about my staycation when (if) I do something interesting. :)

SPRING!

Oh my good word, I love spring.  I mean, don't get me wrong, like every good, American-bred teacher, Summer is my favorite season, but since Korea only gets a two-week vacation then (at best) Spring brings with it a certain amount of relief that Summer just doesn't anymore.

With Spring comes warmth.  I feel my perpetual tension headache brought on by the cold of Winter start to relax.  (I can't help tensing up when it's cold.  I know it's horrible for me, but it's a reflex.)

With Spring comes sunlight. A couple years ago, I finally understood why people literally would go out and worship the sun.  That thing is awesome.  Life is so much happier when I can get my Vitamin D from the sunlight and not from pills.  I also greatly prefer being woken up by the sun in the morning than by an alarm.  Yes, I know it makes it harder to sleep in, but I'd rather give that up than have to use an alarm.

With Spring comes dandelions!  They're so much fun!  I get a bunch of wishes!  AND they mean I don't have to buy hay for the rabbit.

With Spring comes a strange desire in me to clean.  Seriously, I am the queen of Spring cleaning.  This past weekend, I rearranged my entire apartment, all the way to moving the rabbit into the bathroom and reassigning various pieces of my furniture to create a desk for myself.  I'm exhausted (Really.  My eyes ache from being open), but it's excellent. Bill and Ted would approve.

With Spring comes my BIRTHDAY!  Birthdays are also excellent... especially mine... which is in Spring... which I love.  What's not to like here?

I could keep going, but I think I've made my point.  Basically, Spring is awesome, and it makes me happy.  Yay!

Indonesia: Ijen Crater

I wrote this while I was still in Indonesia; it's not my normal blogging writing-style, but I wanted to capture my feelings while they were still fresh.

January 24, 2013

Deep in the jungle of East Java, Indonesia lies Mt. Ijen.  From bottom to top, it is about a three kilometer hike, traversing steep, unforgiving slopes, leaving the climber with the distint impression that she is unwelcome at her destination, and why should she be?  Upon reaching the top, the climber is suddenly awed by the view that overwhelms the fog-covered mountains and treetops upon which she turns her back.  In front of her lies the crater of an active volcano, filled with the largest sulfur lake in Indonesia, turquoise blue and deadly acidic.

The sulfur lake in the Ijen Crater

This is the mountain I was taken to see on my trip to Indonesia.  A renowned attraction, a visit to this natural wonder is regularly included in tourist packages.  I was prepared to be exhausted by the climb.  I was prepared to be intimidated by the active state of the volcano.   I was prepared to realize my own insignificance in the face of something so powerful.  I was not prepared to meet the men who spend their days climbing up and down its path, mining the sulfur that has become so crucial to Indonesian culture.

When I first saw one of the many men carrying two baskets of sulfur bricks across his shoulders, I was floored.  Upon asking its weight, my guide told me that it weighed close to 85 kilograms.

"That's more than I weigh!" A nearby woman exclaimed.

With a jolt of shock, I realized that it would be an easier task for this man to carry me across the mountainside than his load of sulfer.  I assumed it to be a testimony to the poor economy of the area that the man did not have any modern tools to help him with the process, but a friend of my tour guide encouraged me to think further.

"I asked the men why they didn't use more modern tools," he said.  "They told me the government won't let them."

He went on to explain that Ijen is a type of national park.  "I guess that's why can't use [modern tools]."  But the look on his face left me with the distinct impression that he was as dissatisfied with that answer as I was.

At the mouth of the crater, I was quickly greeted with the opportunity to have one of the miners help me descent to the lake below and give me a tour of the mine.  He told me the trip would cost me 50,000 rupiah, roughly 5 USD, which would be slightly less than he would make for one load of sulfur (85kg is worth about 56,000 rupiah).  I agreed, eager to see the mine and happy to make the day easier for this man.  He produced a couple of painter's masks for me to layer and wear to combat the smoke, and we were off, climbing almost straight down through the noxious fumes.  Concentrating solely on not losing my footing, I often didn't see the miners until they were right on top of me, carrying their loads up a rock face that would have made me uncomfortable even if I had been harnessed into climbing ropes.  Yet they climbed it in goulashes, many mask-less in the acrid smoke.  I tried not to think of the number of years that were being cut from their lives during my trip alone.

A man carries his load up the crater

I greeted each man with a smile, to which each man always replied, "Where are you from?"

"America," came my hesitant reply.  Several overseas trips had taught me to share this information cautiously, as it usually elicits passionate responses.  The miners held true to form, although I was relieved to see it took a more positive bent.

"America?  Obama!" was the standard response, and, as if it was a cheer designed to hearten the rest of the workers, it was always met with a chorus of "Obama!" from all the men within earshot.  As Indonesia was the president's childhood home, I was not incredibly shocked by their love for him, but it took a moment for the magnitude of it to sink in.  His very name seemed to birth hope, something I've not seen in relation to any other president in my lifetime, but I imagine it was something akin to how the American people reacted to John F. Kennedy while he was in office.

We repeated this exercise almost every time I met a new worker until, on the floor of the crater, one man broke form.

"Obama?  He's my relative!"

I did a double-take.  Surely not, I thought, prepared to argue that the fumes had addled his mind like the man I'd overheard telling a pair of hikers that he was a Pokémon.  I looked to the men around him, trying to discern from their actions if there was any truth to his claim.  None of them laughed or turned away as they had with the Pokémon man; it seemed his had them convinced.

I spent a lot of time wandering around the crater, taking pictures and chatting with the miners, but, as the wind picked up speed, I began to feel an urgent desire to leave.  My guide had already been waiting at the top for me for quite some time, and I did not want to be extraordinarily long, so we began the ascent.  This time, however, the smoke was much more oppressive.  I could not see further than a meter in front of my feet, and it was not long before I joined in with the miners in spite of my masks, coughing and moaning.  Immediately, they were at my side, encouraging me to drink my water.  The miner who had brought me down offered me his ski cap through which he had been breathing himself. I took it reluctantly, and only used it for a couple of breaths, eager to get him to cover his mouth.  Eventually, though, the volcano began to win, and I crouched, hyperventilating against the rocks.  We doused my bag in water and added it to the mask collection on my face.  Between it and the miners pushing me through the steepest parts, I was able to make it back to the mouth of the crater.  I paid the man as quickly as my shaking hands would let me, and my guide and I retreated back down the mountain.

That night as I laid awake in bed, grappling with the pain in my smoke-burned lungs, I thought more about the conversation I had had with my guide's friend:

"I asked [the miners] what the hardest part was for them: the three kilmeter hike or the two hundred twenty-five meter hike up the crater."

"The climb, of course," I answered.

"Yes," he said.  "The smoke... the smoke..."

The men work through the smoke, with or without proper masks.

I wondered how many of the men were also lying sleepless on their beds, as I was, trying to massage the burning out of their chests.

"I asked why they didn't get other jobs," the friend had continued.  "But Indonesia's economy is bad.  This is the last stop for these men.  There's nothing else."

"They're cutting so many years off their lives for this," I said.  My guide's friend and I locked gazes for a moment, and I knew we were both trying to communicate the same thing across the language barrier: These men were doing what they had to do to provide for their families, even if it meant paying the ultimate price.

Indonesia: Arrival in Jakarta

The Indonesia portion of my journey started off with an adventure.  I had noticed on my plane that I was nearly the only International person on it.  This was slightly unnerving for me, but I figured it was due to the late hour of the flight or something along that vein.  What I didn't realize was that Indonesia was in the middle of its rainy season and Jakarta, the city for which I was headed was flooded.  In fact, I didn't realize that until much later, the flood, obviously, being the first to catch my attention.

After landing and obtaining my Visa-on-arrival (wonderful things), I headed out, looking for the taxi service that was reported to be the only reputable one in the city.  I barreled past the drivers who were out of their cars and waiting in the luggage claim area (never, ever go with those guys; it'd be cheaper to connect your wallet to a vacuum.), and found where the other taxis were waiting.  The next obstacle were the drivers who were waiting on the sidewalk.  Generally, these are no better than the luggage claim area guys, but sometimes you get a good seed there.  Thankfully, I  had the good sense (and the blaring TripAdvisor warnings) to continue looking for BlueBird Taxi.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I found the correct taxi service.  It was the only one with a line, so I felt much better about it all.

It took me about half an hour to wait out the line, and never once did I waver in my resolution to take a BlueBird taxi.  When I finally got to the front of the line, I showed the driver the name of my hotel, and everything took a downward turn.  He got very disgruntled, even getting out of the taxi to consult with the attendant.  Assuming he didn't know where it was, I began to get frustrated.  I am notorious for picking bad hotels from the Internet, so I assumed I'd chosen yet another hole-in-the-wall place that only looked like it was find-able from a map.  Finally, after a couple of phone calls, we were on our way.

"There's a lot of water, so I'll need to take the highway," the driver said.  I agreed.  I'd looked at the map, the highway passes straight by the waterfront, leading to the center of Jakarta, where I had booked my hotel.  I also had learned from my trip in Thailand that this probably meant there would be a toll.  I was okay with these things, and I told him so.

Just as we were about to get off the highway, the driver pulled off, into the median, and said to me, "There's a lot of water, we probably can't go there."

Now, I was confused, and, once again, a bit nervous.  We went back and forth on it, until I realized what he meant.  There had been a flood.

"Can you just try to get to my hotel?"  I asked.  "I have reservations."

The man hesitantly agreed, asking the men at the toll-booth for the status of the neighborhood past the exit.  They assured him that it would be okay, and we plowed on through the puddles.  Unfortunately, those puddles began to get deeper and deeper, until I could feel the water vibrating against the floor of the car under my feet.  The taxi stopped.

"I'm really sorry, missus, but we cannot go this way.  There is too much water."  I secretly breathed a sigh of relief.  I didn't like us driving through the water.  But then, as quickly as the relief came, it left; I had no idea where to go.  Then, my driver turned to look me dead in the face.

"Missus, are you a Christian?"

My heart leapt to my throat.  All of my friends' warnings about Indonesia being a Muslim country didn't seem so trivial anymore.  I looked around outside the car.  The houses looked to be little better than those of a slum in the 1am gloom.  Everywhere, there was some amount of water.  I had nowhere to go.

I took a breath.

"Yes.  I am."

The man started speaking very fast.  "Good.  I am a Christian, too, and, in the name of Jesus Christ, I promise I will get you safely to a hotel."

I'm ashamed to say, I wasn't convinced.  "A nice hotel?"  I asked him.

"Yes, missus.  A nice hotel."

"Okay.  Let's go."

We pulled away, and I felt my deposit stay behind in the deep puddles of the neighborhood.  I had already had one instance of booking for the wrong dates and being charged for the room when I didn't show up.  Now, it was going to happen again.  I sighed and resigned myself to it.  There was nothing I could do about it at that point.

The first hotel we came to was a name I recognized; I had researched it in my hotel booking process and seriously considered staying there.  I paid the driver, thanked him, and ran inside, but he followed.  After a short conversation with the concierge, he informed me that there were no rooms available.  Later, that made sense to me: All the people displaced by the flood would have to go somewhere.  But, in that moment, all I could think about was how very much I wanted to sleep.

I got back in the taxi, envisioning a long night of hotel hopping and paying and repaying the driver.  Within, five minutes, however, he was pulling up a long driveway.  One look at its towers and circular driveway told me that I was going to need to switch hotels the next day.  There was no way I could afford that place.  Nonetheless, dear old Benjamin was going to take one for the team (the team that connected my eyeballs and my cognition), and make new friends with the people that ran the hotel.

When I walked in, I was greeted by a bell boy, who took my bag from my hand and my backpack off my back and led me up the escalators, where I came face to face with two large arrangements of Oriental Lilies, one of my favorite flowers.  In that moment I said to myself, You know what?  This is vacation; let's live a little.  After all, I did just get paid.  I decided to stay in the Hotel Santika Jakarta for the duration of my time in the city.  Much to my wallet's surprise, it only turned out to be ~$130/night for the exclusive suite I was given (they were pretty booked up, too), which included a breakfast buffet, complimentary mini-bar, and evening snack bar (which I turned into a dinner buffet).  Considering that that's roughly what I would pay for a night at a Wingate Hotel in the States, I gladly agreed that it was worthy my money.  Thus began a series of events that led me to several unexpectedly luxurious hotels.  For now, I'll leave you with pictures of the Hotel Santika:

Lobby

Breakfast buffet area

My room and incredibly soft bed

Exclusive lounge where I ate my dinners

Truly, though, the pictures don't do this place justice.  It was an amazing hotel, with excellent amenities, and a wonderful masseuse.  This was the perfect answer to the stress that came with my unfortunate timing in landing.

Just so you know...

I may be taking a hiatus for a bit.  I'm tired, and I'm busy, and I'm stressed.... soooooooo that all adds up to "something's gotta go."  Just assume that my day was spent knee-deep in paperwork, trash, and sheet music, until I tell you otherwise.

A video I made for you yesterday.

And by "yesterday," I mean Sunday.

Just a normal day, cooped up in my house...

MOTh: Day 8

A Gift Sweet, Salty, Sipped

I'm so incredibly distracted right now, so this post will probably be the shortest one yet... sorry.

1. I'm doubly thankful for both Bobbie and Addie, the sweetest children I've ever met.
2. I'm thankful for McDonald's hash browns, and my growing weekly tradition of sharing them with my friend Nick on Sunday mornings.
3. I'm thankful for my free cup of coffee this evening.  Seeing how incredibly exhausted I was at the end of this week, the owner of my current coffee haunt sent me an extra cup over this evening.  Praise be to G-d for His small blessings.

추석 Traveling: Правец & Ботевград (Pravets & Botevgrad)

Sunday morning brought with it the prospect of traveling a ways away for church.  Luckily, the service was later, so I had the opportunity to attempt to catch up on sleep.  I've never been one to get hit hard by jet-lag my first day back in a place.  I usually feel it at night, anyway, but I mostly attribute that to my preference for late night flights, meaning that I don't get very much sleep.  For some reason, I'd rather get only one or two hours of sleep than have to wake up even an hour early.  Maybe that will change in time.  Any way that you look at it, though, my bleary mind was quite content to attempt to sleep all day.  Thankfully, Alex was of the mind to not even entertain that idea, and I wasn't going to ask it of her, since I knew I would regret it if I didn't get out and see the country I was visiting.

Zhana, Alex's boss, stopped by in the morning to warn us against going to church.  Apparently, there was a sinus-infection-inducing cold and the flu going around in the community, and, since my defenses were down (being in a new country, jet-lagged, and all), her doctor had recommended that I didn't go to church.  I was touched.  This woman had talked to her doctor about me!  She didn't know me from Eve, yet she had prepared in advance to make sure that I would be able to stay healthy, rather than just advising me to "be careful for my health," as to which I've grown accustomed here. (Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that the people in Korea warn me against situations that I might not have thought to take precaution, but it's amazing to have someone actually help with it.)  So, instead of church, Alex and I wandered around Правец and its neighboring town Ботевград.

Ботевград was pretty, and reminded me a lot of most college towns that I've seen.  It's the kind of place that feels somewhat large, but you also get the sense that everyone knows everyone.  Meanwhile, the whole area is shrouded in a type of 1960's communistic architecture.  Since Правец is still locally communistic, this rather makes sense.  (Mind-blowing, I know.)  However, my photography doesn't really reflect this feeling, because I like to take photos of pretty things, and I didn't find most of the architecture all that pretty... So, take my representation with a grain of salt.

Ботевград town square 

I was fascinated with the straight-metal swings, rather than chained ones.  Plus, the children on them made the place look so homey.

Alex needed an ATM, and I liked how the signs didn't clash with nature too much.

I'm not normally one for roses, but the obscure coloring more than makes up for it.

Waiting at the bus stop.

Our late-night wanderings through Правец ran us into a man who remembered Правец before it was Правец.  He was out on a stroll with his cow, Gala.  Immediately, I took a liking to this man.  Really?  On a walk with your cow, you say?  Yes, I can tell that I'll like you already.  As Alex and her friend Yony admired, Gala, I came up next to the man and said, in my rather sarcastic way, "Nice cow," assuming he couldn't understand me and would ignore me, like I'm used to here in Korea.  Not so much, though.  He started talking to me in German, which I understood some of, but, eventually, Yony stepped in and translated.  She was incredibly uncomfortable, but I was in Seventh Heaven.  His history lesson was fascinating, although I don't remember much of it.  He did say, however, that he though Bulgarian men would me more likely to marry if the women looked more like Alex and myself. Scarlet faced, we thanked him and wrapped the conversation up.  Yony really didn't like translating such comments for us.

I think when I grow up, I'd like a pet cow to take for walks, so I'd have an excuse to make young people incredibly uncomfortable with my ramblings.

I hope my lack of words doesn't belittle my conviction of how important this event was for my trip.  I think it put me in the right frame of mind for the rest of the days that followed - simple; beautiful; and, overall, loving.

추석 Traveling: Sofia, Bulgaria

So, I'm back from my travels for now, and I come bearing pictures.  Posting them has been slow going, as I've been sick and unbelievably busy.  I've got piles of things I don't want to do, and I'm forgetting to do the things I want to do, but that all gets shoved aside, as I come home from work and all but collapse into bed that very moment.  Still, I'm trying to knock out at least one heavy-weighing thing a day.  As you can tell, today, I'm trying to get caught up on the blog.  I have in mind to write about my trip in four separate posts.

Sofia and her poor wardrobe choices.  Call me uncultured, but I still feel that the way women are portrayed in art has little to nothing to do with celebrating the beauty of the female form and everything to do with the way it makes the artist feel to make it as such.

An absolutely beautiful old church. 

A mosque in the foreground with a vast synagogue in the background.  Apparently, Bulgaria originally sided with Nazi Germany in World War II, because Hitler promised them a good deal of land, but, when he came calling for the Jews, the Bulgarian leader said that they were still needed to do labor in the country.  He continued in this habit until Bulgaria switched and sided with the Allies, thus saving all the Jews within Bulgarian borders.

A Russian Orthodox church, with an unpictured Catholic church near it.  These two buildings and the aforementioned two were all quite close to each other.  Bulgaria apparently prides itself on the fact that these four are "within a stone's throw of each other, but never has a stone been thrown between them."

Alex and Vera drinking from the hot springs water that was fixed into fountains.  It was supposed to cure you of diseases, however, I know that Alex and I at least got a cold after drinking it, I'm not sure about Vera.  I think I'd say that it seems rather counter-productive, unless it's a "You've got to get worse to get better" mentality.

Two beautiful shots of Alexander Nevsky, yet another Cathedral in Sofia.  It rekindled my deep-rooted desire to find a way to spend the night or nights inside one of these grand old Cathedrals, although, I'm not sure I could hold my own against the other squatters, and I'm sure the darkest dark that would come with night would frighten me to death.  Nonetheless, I think, as would Miss Anne of Green Gables, that it would be terribly romantic and an adventure worth having.

In spite of the ghastly way I chose to treat my feet while walking around that day, I think it was a wonderful adventure. Jet lag screamed at me from about noon on, which was interesting, since noon in Bulgaria is only 6pm in Korea, but I suppose my midnight departure contributed.  In spite of all that, my biggest regret may have been leaving behind a beautiful violin with a carved scroll that I found in a market.  It was in atrocious condition, having been used instead of paper for someone to track numbers, with cracks around the end peg, so I knew there would be a heart-stopping cost to refurbish it, but I fell in love with it.  Sadly, the woman was asking a bit too much for it, compared to the repair costs, and I couldn't justify it at this juncture in life.  I would have haggled, but she seems entirely non-haggle friendly.  Perhaps it was my clear non-Bulgarian-ness, or because she didn't know that I would have happily gone and withdrawn the money from my bank account if a number came up that seemed more reasonable.  My biggest hangup was that I didn't feel confident in my appraisal abilities.  Perhaps I should study up on that, so that this won't happen again.

Look for more posts about my trip soon!

(I Remember)

Evette and I had early morning orchestra that day.  We were both so tired.  We found later that we had the same reason for being so exhausted -we'd both spent the night dreaming strange dreams, and we both spent morning orchestra debating whether or not to tell the other about them.

The rest of the morning passed in a half-eyed blur, until it was time for lunch.  Seventh grade ate so early that year.  I generally made a habit of peeking in the classrooms as I walked past, and that say was no exception, but only one classroom was worth noting.  There were several women in it, holding each other and crying.  I remember clearly my reacting thought: "Someone's son must have died."  I don't know why that was my thought.  I don't know why it was "son" and not "daughter."  I don't know why it was death and not illness or some other entirely unrelated tragedy.  But there it was.

We went to lunch, where I finally revealed my dream to Andy.  My whole dream had been a kind of white-lined sketch on blue paper.   It was a perfect replica of New York City; I recognized it from the trip I had taken there the previous April.  Suddenly, an airplane entered the dream and flew into a Twin Tower, which proceeded to topple over onto the silent city.  I remember entering the dream at that point, rather than observing it.  I was on the ground, feeling the shadow swallowing me, looking up in terror at my impending death.  Then, I woke.

No one put much stock in my dream.  I had weird dreams all them time.

We had to hurry to our next class: American History: Reconstruction to Present Day.   The room was eerily silent, especially for a middle school.  We took our seats to notice that the TV was on.

"The administration doesn't want me to show you this," the teacher said. "But you deserve to see this.  Your children will study this in their history classes.  I can't be a good history teacher and not show you."

And then we watched the burning towers crumble to the ground.

In his shock, the teacher said, "I guess the Empire State Building is the biggest again."  I was horrified.

Cathy went to the pay phones at the front of the school and called her mom, who picked her up.  I was furious that my mother hadn't shown up to sweep me away, but I, to this day, still don't know why I wanted to leave.  It's not like she could provide any more sanity to the world.

She did pick me up, though, at our normal Tuesday afternoon meeting time.  I was hoping she'd tell me that my piano lesson was cancelled for that day; I didn't feel up to it (not that I ever did), but she took me straight to the church.  She wanted me to have normalcy.  I started learning the song Sanctuary, which I, in turn, played a month later in church, on my family's last Sunday in that city.  It seemed so ironic it was sickening.

I was angry.  I was angry for having normalcy forced on me.  I was angry for having fear forced on me.  I was angry for my life spinning out of control.

Not even bothering to drop off my school things, I went to the basement, took out some paper and water-color paints, and began flinging color across the page, imagining it was someone conveying my anger to the people who I felt were causing it, impaling it into their souls and out of my own.   I think my mom still has those paintings.

I remember.

Good, better, best...

Gangnam Style

I was walking along the streets downtown with some friends last night, and we heard it, not in one building, not in two buildings, but in three, blaring out into the night.  Gangnam Style has become a global phenomenon, and I can almost hear my Korean counterparts saying, "It's about time!  Finally the world is realizing how great Korea is."  But, just like in America, these people seem to be listening only to the beat and chuckling at the appearances of famous comedians in the video.  I have not heard one Korean comment on the controversial message the song sends.  The whole song is a commentary on what the singer wants in a woman and why he deserves it, the resounding theme is "I want a sexy woman, and I deserve it because I'm "Gangnam Style'."  Gangnam is a section of Seoul known for it's ritzy style of living.  "Gangnam Style" is applied to, obviously, a person who lives like they're from Gangnam.  But don't take my word for it; check the lyrics yourself:

English Translation:

Oppa [older brother/boyfriend] is Gangnam style

Gangnam style

A girl who is warm and humanle during the day

A classy girl who know how to enjoy the freedom of a cup of coffee

A girl whose heart gets hotter when night comes

A girl with that kind of twist

I’m a guy

A guy who is as warm as you during the day

A guy who one-shots his coffee before it even cools down

A guy whose heart bursts when night comes

That kind of guy

Beautiful, loveable

Yes you, hey, yes you, hey

Beautiful, loveable

Yes you, hey, yes you, hey

Now let’s go until the end

Oppa is Gangnam style, Gangnam style

Oppa is Gangnam style, Gangnam style

Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady, Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh

A girl who looks quiet but plays when she plays

A girl who puts her hair down when the right time comes

A girl who covers herself but is more sexy than a girl who bares it all

A sensable girl like that

I’m a guy

A guy who seems calm but plays when he plays

A guy who goes completely crazy when the right time comes

A guy who has bulging ideas rather than muscles

That kind of guy

Beautiful, loveable

Yes you, hey, yes you, hey

Beautiful, loveable

Yes you, hey, yes you, hey

Now let’s go until the end

Oppa is Gangnam style, Gangnam style

Oppa is Gangnam style, Gangnam style

Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady, Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh

On top of the running man is the flying man, baby baby

I’m a man who knows a thing or two

On top of the running man is the flying man, baby baby

I’m a man who knows a thing or two

You know what I’m saying

Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady, Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh

So, maybe the words themselves aren't all that controversial.  Maybe it causes your heart to flutter a frustrated beat at the materialism it seems to endorse, but what's so new about that theme in pop music? Well, let me direct your attention to the video.  Psy seems to be trying his hardest to make the whole thing look ridiculous as possible - to make the whole world laugh at the concept of Gangnam style, whether through Psy's lounging beach-style on a playground, the trash flying through the air, the girls walking around in the snow with their shorties on, or the over-the-top excitement at being on the tennis court with a couple beautiful girls... and that's all in the first minute.

Are we slaves?

I want to take a moment to acknowledge that my serious thinking about this song was really spurred by the pastor of one of the three churches I'm bouncing between right now.  Pastor Josh wrote a very well thought out post on his blog about how this video seems to be a modern-day version of Ecclesiastes - the material world is meaningless.  Furthermore, he suggests that we are personally enslaving ourselves through our habits.  He doesn't mean the ball and chain kind of enslavement (although that DEFINITELY still happens today around the world, including the USA), he means the soul-sapping, Christ-deferring kind of enslavement.

We live in a world where depression is quickly becoming the number TWO debilitation of people across the globe.  We live in a world where suicide is one of the three leading causes of death in young people, aged 10-24.  We live in a world that chants the mantra at us "Good, better, best, never let it rest..."  Never let it rest?  If that's not slavery mentality, I don't know what is.

The ultimate result

This week, my friends and I have been plagued with the unthinkable.  The equivalent of an American ninth-grade student of one of my friends attempted suicide while at school by jumping out of a third story window.  He survived and underwent surgery on his leg and jaw.  What would prompt such a young person to do that?  I'll answer quite confidently: The unbearable pressure to succeed.  We just started the second semester of school, here in Korea, and our middle-schoolers are busily applying to high school.  Mid-terms are at the end of this month, and finals are right behind them.  There's no rest for them.  They go to school all day and study when they come home, and when I say "all day," I do mean "all the daylight hours."  If I thought I was going to fail under such circumstances, I honestly can't say I wouldn't do the same as him.

"But that's Korea!", you say.  What has this to do with me?  Korea is leading the world in suicide rates, but that does not make the rest of the world immune.  After all, it is America posting the Good, Better, Best poster in its classrooms (believe me, I know - I stared at them day after day, making it my own mantra).  America (and the rest of the Westernized world, for sure, I can't speak for the rest of the Eastern world) puts such an incredible value on academic and financial success, that, even if it isn't a personal value, it's weight it crippling from having it constantly cast onto people.  It's the rolling thunder of inadequacy looming directly overhead.

Avoidance

As Christians, we are called to something more than this mindset that we've had drilled into us.  We've been set apart as holy, living sacrifices.  We've been commanded to refrain from conforming to this world.  One crucial way to do this is to REST.

We cannot focus on other people, let alone G-d and His Kingdom, is we are physically and emotionally exhausted.  This has been proven time and again.  Take Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs - Our most basic human needs are the physiological ones, like food, shelter, and sleep.  It's not until we achieve those and all the other levels of the hierarchy that we can reach the final level, added by Viktor Frankl, of looking beyond ourselves to other people's needs or the existence of a higher being (although some people may argue that being given self-worth by a higher being can fall on the fifth level of the Hierarchy of Needs).

In case you don't want to read all that psycho-babble, the answer is this: We have to take care of ourselves! It's so important that G-d even commands it:

“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. 9 Six days you shall labor and do all your work, 10 but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns. 11 For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy." -Exodus 20:8-11

Even G-d chose to rest, to take a break from work and stress.  If it's good enough for Him, isn't it good enough for you?

There's no need for the pressure of 24/7 perfection.  You're going to get sick.  You're going to need a break.  You're going to fail.  That's life.  That's humanity.  And, you know what?  That's okay!  Take  break, worship, relax.  Don't get caught up in trying to be the best.  Take it from someone who knows - it's not worth it.

I love you, and I'm praying for you!

I am jet lagged.

But I promise I'm not dead.

Also, I'm starting to get goodbye letters from my students. Had I moved les in my life, I feel I'd cry from them (I'm not as insensitive as that sounds). These kids are sweethearts.

They also make me look really attractive when they draw me. Thank G-d for kids who care. :)

August 19

I am here. I'm tired, sweaty, and nasty, but I am here. Now for the two-hour bus ride back to my city...

I may regret this tomorrow.

I saw Batman again today, so it's now already past midnight, and I'm just now getting home.  Not to worry, though... it was with my boss.

Additionally, I feel like I may have been sort of set up with one of her "churchmates."  His name in Cheong-gu, but, while his English was good and he's into traveling and mission trips, I just wasn't feeling it.  Maybe it's because I was so tired to begin with; maybe it's because he seems to have no intention of leaving Korea for any length of time; maybe it's because he's so focused on settling down and getting a good job.  I don't know.  All I know is that I wasn't feeling it, and he left without getting my number, so, whether it was a purposeful setup or not, it seems to have failed.

A language-barrier-riddled relationship is not one thing that I want to add to the craziness of my life right now.

Guess I'm not Korean.  Go figure. ^_~

I have never before been this homesick in my life.

Well, I was pretty beat up when I left Germany, but, I don't think that counts, as Germany isn't actually my home.

I know I don't want to stay Stateside or anything, but I really need to see my friends and family.

I prefer to keep this blog cheery, so I'm not going to continue on this train, but I could really use some prayers, please.  Thanks.

26 Days.

I think the purpose of the "Dead Man" pose at the end of the yoga routine is to allow for adult nap time.

Today, the yoga class at my school started, and yes, I was in attendance.  I was pretty excited about it, and even made it through mostly in Korean.  Problem is, it went for an hour and forty minutes.  Yoga isn't too strenuous, as you can probably guess, but doing weird stretches for that long is really tiring.  I'm exhausted.

That's also probably in part because I stayed up so late talking to Alex and Meret last night, but I really like talking to them, so exhaust myself I will.  Luckily, tomorrow I'm just playing a review bomb game with my sixth graders and getting the advanced kids started on The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.  My boss is so excited about it that she wants to go through it, too.  I say, "Hey, go for it.  Just let me get the copies handed out to the kids first."  Yes, I photocopied the first chapter, which is perfectly legal, but it's not going to take them long to get through that, soooo:

It's looking like I'm going to need some copies of that book set aside for me... 24 to be exact.  Is anyone willing to help out on that front?  Contact me via any method if you are.

Blimey Cow photo-a-day 20.  Something you want.
I want to finish this journal off, because it's literally split into three parts:
Cover, paper, and bookmark.
My own fault.  I dropped it too many times.
Although, the last drop was in my sleep, so I'm considering blaming anything else.

Don't forget to enter your name idea on my giveaway!

More video updating

As promised, the Blimey Cow photo-a-day from yesterday (#13. eyebrows):
One of my students learned the word "eyebrow" from the recently implemented self-study advanced-student reading program at my school.  I'm crazy proud of how well she did on her checkup worksheet.

14. Your siblings.
I have one, and I used the last of my Skype money to call him tonight.  I now need to suck it up and reload my account.

Today, I'm stressed.

06. I really like seeing my rabbit
be willing to drink her water.

My rabbit hasn't been eating like normal for the past couple of days.  In fact, the only thing she's choosing to eat is paper.  She'll drink water if I put it in her face, and she'll eat some hay and pellets, because she knows I'm stressed.  I've got a couple more tricks up my sleeve, but it may involve breaking the budget for this week.  I'm just trying to focus on my mother's words: "Money is a tool.  It's not worth anything if you don't use it."


Today, I ended up watching the entire Venus Transit online, because it was too cloudy to see it well in real life. I woke far earlier than I meant, resulting in me being extremely tired, and just zombie-ing all day.  The dream that woke me was rather interesting, though.  Arnold Schwarzenegger was trying to bring me in to be a a part of Jack Black's "Crincess" - Corpse Princess, made up of many different body parts of dead people. Billy Dee Williams sold me out in exchange for the two of them returning his six children to him.  I couldn't blame him, but it was rather disappointing that I was going to have to die, since you can't be part of a "corpse princess" while you're alive, of course.  The strangest part was, I haven't watched a movie with any of them in it in years.

My epic fail of an attempt of a transit picture.

Watching NASA's broadcast of the transit.
My computer screen makes an excellent mirror, apparently.
I was rather annoyed with the telescope they were using that turned the sun purple.
It made it really hard to view Venus.

My friend Curran's picture of the transit.
He did a GREAT job capturing it!

Finally, I got an email today, informing me that I had misunderstood how much tuition was at the Law School I was researching.  Instead of being $30,000/year, it's $30,000 total.  I'm now considering it much more strongly, especially since they still uphold the Socratic Method (of which I am a HUGE fan), by offering live classroom chat sessions with other students and the professor, but I don't think that program offers even any introduction to International Law nor Juvenile Law, which is a big minus, as that's what I'd be interested in doing.  So, most likely, this program is still going to be a "no," but they've perked my interest again, so I'm definitely going to be praying about it and finding what G-d's will is, and I would appreciate it if you would, too.

The email

Speaking of prayer, I'd be really grateful if you participated in the prayer vigil I'm trying to put together for my Compassion Kid, Enock and his family.  His sister is living in the hospital, and it's putting a lot of strain on his family.  Thanks!

Yesterday and Today

Yesterday, I slept in for the first time all week.  I was excited.
Today, I woke up to my alarm so I could watch the full solar eclipse.  I was expecting everything to go dark like it did in Heroes.  It didn't, so I didn't see the full eclipse, only the partial ones.

This is a photo taken by Adam Thomas.  Like I said, it wasn't actually dark outside, so I'm assuming he played with his settings a lot to make it look like this.  You can see the rest of his eclipse photos HERE.

Yesterday, I started my day with a full breakfast and a pleasant walk to church.
Today, I started my day with breakfast on the bus and the realization that I was going to have to deal with drama from two different continents.

Yesterday, I stood up for myself.
Today, I broke up my first fist-fight.

Yesterday, I joined my friends at Awesome Place for some coffee and laughs (true to Project: 물 주세요, I drank a kiwi-yogurt smoothie, which I figured would have less sugar than a green tea latte).
Today, I realized that that rolling pain across the crown of my head was a chronic tension headache.

Yesterday I finished LOST for the second time.  (I don't care what you say.  I still adore the ending).
Today, I started watching Alex McKenzie and Jesse Page's senior project.  This is Alex's first full-length film that he's scored, and Jesse did an amazing job with the sound editing, too. (I was thrilled to be able to cross "Be the voice of a cartoon character" off my Bucket List with this project.)

Yesterday, I pretended to clean my apartment.
Today, I plan to make an actual dent in it.

Yesterday, I wrote three pages.
Today, I have a feeling I'm going to be struggling to make the one-page quota.

Yesterday, I bought some nutmeg - ON SALE! :)
Today, I will be eating it on a sweet potato. :)

Yesterday, I let go of a lot of things.
Today, I think I snatched them off that shelf I set them on.  Ah well... we all have those days.

That my friends, was my yesterday and today, which happens to be one of my favorite albums, so I'm going to leave you with a song from it, documenting a problem that I do NOT have:

How about you?  What's your yesterday and today?