AN EPIC TALE

Here we are again intrepid readers. I will relate the epic tale of the Great Wall of China and our not-so-intrepid hikers. To make this abundantly clear, I would like to point out that I did NOT THINK. I didn’t think at all. They said there would be a walk, but I was picturing the kind of walk that you usually do at tourist places. You wander around, surrounded by other tourists, and don’t really work up a sweat.

The “free water bottle” that came with purchase of our tickets should have been a sign.

Anyway, we drove up to our starting point with a group of American students (younger than Erika and me and mostly female) and two Brits in fluorescent short shorts. I was so excited to get out of the car that all thoughts of nausea were stolen away by the early morning breeze. It was the perfect weather for a hike: cool with a little bit of a bite, enough to make you feel good, but not so much that you should bundle up.

Our driver led us to a map; he pointed out where we were and where we needed to meet him in four hours. That was the red map I put on the previous blog post. That’s also when I realized our hike might be more that a little wandering on a wall. It was a serious hike. With hills. And parts of the wall were crumbly, so we’d have to jump over sections.


We had four hours to get from Jinshanling to Simatai. This didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. However, it was about 11 kilometers of hiking, and this wasn’t an easy eleven. My family likes hiking, and I’m not in terrible shape. But there was no section of wall that was level and easy. We hiked up and down mountain after mountain. If I’d known the difficulty level, maybe I would have prepared a little more. Like getting a good night’s sleep, or drinking more water. There really wasn’t any way to remove the whole vomiting thing, so we’ll ignore it.


Anyway, when we started, Erika and I were kind of behind the group. Not to be pretentious assholes, but neither of us really wanted to be associated with a rather loud group of Americans. We caught up to them talking to six or seven Chinese people. Erika and I kind of ignored them and continued. Then one of the ladies of the group started walking along with us and told us about how she was a poor Mongolian farmer and she had no job. I thought that was an interesting contradiction. Then she pointed out that one side of the wall was Inner Mongolia, and the other was China. I thought that could be interesting if true, but didn't do more than grunt. She then told me about how difficult her life as a Mongolian farmer was, and I found that to be an interesting bit of fiction. We were polite, but not encouraging. After several minutes of attempting conversation, she finally gave up and tried to sell us some shirts.




The first two hours of our hike consisted of that exact group of people trying to sell merchandise. Erika and I managed to avoid most of the hassle because we didn’t encourage them from the start. However, the other Americans had a harder time. When we were going up a particularly steep mountain, the “Mongolian Farmers” would grab their hands and “help” them to the top. Then they’d ask for payment. (I included a picture of the "help") I really don’t blame them for trying to make a living, but then again, they didn’t bother Erika and me (we just weren’t friendly enough). I think the other Americans may have learned the whole “If they’re too friendly, they’re selling something” lesson.



Along the way, there were other people at various towers selling water, pop, juice, t-shirts, postcards, and (my personal favorite) beer. Alas, the years of soccer tournaments taught me that beer would only dehydrate me further (that came out wrong), so I didn’t partake. Also, I didn’t want to spend five won on water.

Eleven kilometers. That’s around seven miles. It doesn’t seem like much, but try doing it in non-hiking clothes, going up and down mountains, dehydrated, and with no food in your system. The first three hours were fine. We took in the stunning beauty of the wall. And I do mean stunning. I took over a hundred pictures of the Great Wall, and Erika might have taken twice that. We really did get an incredible grasp for why the Great Wall is actually great. The views were spectacular, the wall itself was a marvel of epic proportions, and the thought of all the effort and materials that went into it was staggering. All I can say is that the Xiongnu must have scared the pants off the Chinese.

After three hours, however, the wall was just a freaking wall, and the hike seemed like it had lasted for an eternity. I started hallucinating about how I had fallen and broken my head early in the hike. That would make the unending hike Purgatory, and the people selling their overpriced drinks were demons. Or angels. Even after reading Dante, I find Purgatory confusing. It’s a good thing I’m not Catholic. Our fellow hikers were getting incredibly negative, and I realized I was definitely developing a sunburn. Three and a half hours into the hike, we realized that we were lost. None of us knew where we were supposed to stop. Four hours into it, we were even more lost. It seemed like we were supposed to have reached the end, but we didn’t see anything.


After about four and a quarter hours, we reached an area filled with tourists. We were psyched. It had to be the place. The only question was: where was the bloody turn off? You’d think it’d be easy to see.
It was not.


(Insane Cable Suspension Bridge. Picture included mostly for the civil engineers I'm related to.)
Also, we were faced with one of the steepest mountains in our hike. I’m including a picture because the sight alone was enough to make two of the hikers cry (not Erika and me, I swear). It's sort of hard to tell, but look for the towers. It's not that big a deal unless you've been hiking for FOUR HOURS.

We walked down into the valley, and I thought for sure the second tower was the place we turned off. Well, after crossing a rather insane bridge and climbing up to the second tower, literally pausing every five steps, there was this tiny path away from the wall.
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I said, “I think this is it.” The girl we were near said, “Let’s just go around the tower and see if the rest of the group is on the other side. We don’t want to turn off and have to retrace our steps.”

This was a sensible idea, so we did that. Sure enough, the rest of the group was trudging up the mountain. If one of my organs were predisposed to remove itself from my body, my heart would have sunk out the soles of my feet. Apparently, my organs are not predisposed to diffusion (lucky for the rest of me) so I had to keep going (lucky is a state of mind. I was kind of preferring death by organ diffusion at this point). We stepped up five stairs. We paused. We went up two more. We paused. We leaned on the rock wall, literally trying to drag ourselves up with our arms because we couldn’t lift our legs.

I’d like to take a moment from the melodrama and inject some sanity.

I can’t. We really did try to drag ourselves up with our arms. Not only that, but all these other tourists were streaming up and down the stairs past us. All I wanted to shout was “Don’t judge us! We’ve hiked eleven kilometers already!” But I didn’t know how to say that in Chinese (all I could say was hello and thank you. I didn’t think shouting those two words over and over would get any message across other than that I was wrong in the head). Instead, we hiked up that freaking mountain for something like forty minutes. The worst of it was that we didn’t have any idea how much further we needed to go. We were actually lost on the Great Wall of China. It’s a wall, for Christ’s sake. How do you get lost ON a wall? Finally, we found some people who spoke English and asked them where the turnoff for Simatai was.

I’m sure you may have guessed it, but it was that second tower. Nobody was certain, and none of us were willing to climb back up that freaking mountain a second time, so there was a lot of hemming and hawing. However, we went back down and walked off the tower at that tiny turnoff. Ten minutes later, we were in front of the restaurant we were supposed to be at almost an hour before. The only people there ahead of us were the two British guys in their florescent shorts. They’d been waiting for forty-five minutes, and they couldn’t eat until we’d arrived. The two of them mentioned this, and everyone apologized profusely. Then I said, “You guys were sitting in the shade having a beer. I feel more sorry for us.”

Luckily, everyone laughed, or I would’ve looked like a jerk. But really, we walked up an extra mountain and were late because of that. I don’t really care if they had to wait for us.

So that was the Great Wall of China. It began with extreme lack of sleep, food poisoning, and beautiful views. It ended with exhaustion, mild hallucinations and mediocre Chinese food. I suppose that’s as fitting an end to an epic event as any. To those of us who did the hike it was a once in a lifetime experience (largely because we’d never do it again). However, we probably appreciate the awesomeness of the Great Wall of China better than your average tourists. So we’ve got that going for us.

Alone and Lost in Beijing + Food Poisoning=Awesome

This story should serve as a cautionary tale for people traveling. Learn from my mistakes, which mostly consisted of me not thinking.

I arrived in Beijing with a foolishly small amount of information. First, I knew I was meeting my friend Erika at Dongzhimen station. I knew the name of the hostel we were going to stay a day from then. I knew that I was in China.

Important things I did not know:
1. How to say ANYTHING in Chinese.
2. Where Dongzhimen station was.
3. That day was National Day, and thus most things were closed (including the aforementioned hostel).
4. Where Erika was in Dongzhimen.
5. Where we were staying that night.

I'm not usually a planner. This isn't much of a problem, and on a good day I think of it as being spontaneous. On a normal day, though, it's just plain idiotic. No one should go to a foreign country without at least some idea of where they might stay that night. One would think that I'd learned my lesson in Bologna when I had similar problems, but no. At least in Bologna I spoke the language.

I got to the meeting place late (my flight was an hour and a half late because it was National Day). When I couldn't find Erika I figured she didn't know I got her email so she might not even be there. Erika didn't have a phone and I didn't have so much as a city map. That's when I realized how screwed I was.

To avoid making too big a deal out of the situation (and subjecting you to a drawn out epic) let me just summarize the following events: I couldn't find Erika even though I wandered around the station for about two hours. I tried calling the hostel and a Erika's friend's contact number, but both numbers were "out of service." After that, I figured my only way of finding her was through email, and I needed to find an internet cafe. The cafes (what few there were) were closed for National Day. I befriended a nice British couple who took me to their hostel and let me use their laptop. While there, the wife told everyone about my plight and I got a lot of sympathy from a large number of British people, as well as offers of rooms, couches, and the like for the night. Five hours after we were supposed to meet, Erika and I finally found each other. She had been waiting at Dongzhimen the whole time, but I missed her somehow.


The picture is of Oven Mitt chilling at the hostel. Or more specifically, hanging out in front of the free toothbrushes/shampoo that the hostel provided.

After that odyssey, Erika and I were tired (She was really worried about me. This was fair because after it got dark I started to worry about me a little). We were couch surfing (I don't feel like explaining it right now, but you can look it up), with a lady who worked for the U.N. Or the embassy. I forget. Anyway, she took us to an IRISH PUB. I couldn't get over it. I arrived in Beijing, got really lost, finally found my friend, and the first place we went was AN IRISH PUB.

In all fairness Erika felt the same. But as I mentioned, it was National Day . It wasn't just National Day, it was the 60th anniversary of the People's Republic of China. There was a big ceremony at Tiananmen square (think larger than the opening ceremonies at the olympics), and couch sitting lady wanted to watch it. Erika and I chatted and watched the ceremonies; it lasted for a few hours. We didn't eat much because we didn't want to spend vacation money on pub food.

Anyway, the lady kept us up pretty late that night, and we had to get up at 5:30 in the morning the next day. This was because we were GOING TO THE GREAT WALL!!!!!

We were both pretty tired when we rose, but we walked to the place the van was picking us up. For breakfast we got some food at 7Eleven. I got a pre-packaged croissant. We rode with a group of Americans and two British guys in fluorescent shorts. It turns out I was the oldest person in the car (except the driver, who was kind of cute but didn't speak much English). While we were on the road (it was about a two hour drive) I started feeling queasy. Erika and I were talking, then I started concentrating on not getting sick.

I failed.

About an hour into the drive, I threw up. This was ridiculous in several ways. Just before it happened, I grabbed a small wooden bowl that sat in front of me. So I didn't get anything on anyone (including me) or the van (which would have been awful). After it happened, I sat for a minute, clutching/balancing the bowl, uncertain of what to do. NO ONE NOTICED. Erika, who was talking to me, stared at me a minute and then asked the driver to pull over. But when he did, everyone wanted to know why we pulled over. Then I had to balance the bowl with the care of a scientist removing plutonium from a nuclear bomb as I shuffled out (three people trundled out in front of me because I was seated back in the van). At least nuclear scientists don't have to dodge backpacks and car seats. The most ludicrous part was the fact that I got food poisoning from a pre-packaged croissant. It wasn't even something cool like sketchy street meat.

I don't want to end the blog on a food poisoning note, but the story of the Great Wall is epic in nature, and will require a lot more time than I have. So let me just give you a small taste (unfortunate choice of words) of how I felt when we got there.

I was tired from traveling and getting only one or two hours of sleep.
I was hungry, but too nauseous to eat anything.
I was dehydrated from losing everything from my stomach.
I felt sick and had a headache.

None of those things mattered, though, because I was at THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA!!

(That's a map of the trails around the Great Wall. I'll explain more later.)
Tune in next time for "Lost on the Great Wall!", or, "Why didn't we read the pamphlet before we signed up for this freaking hike?"

Beijing Pics

I put photos from Beijing on Facebook, so if you're interested in seeing those, check it out. Otherwise, there will be an abbreviated version on this blog some time in the near future.

Chew Sock

Okay, so I was going to update and discuss Korean television.

That didn't happen. Obviously.

However, we'll table that topic, because the reason I didn't blog about Korean tv was that last week was Chuseok (Chew-sock). Chuseok is kind of like a Korean Thanksgiving. It's a harvest festival (ish) and we had Thursday and Friday off. Wednesday was fascinating, because we had our own little Chuseok celebration at my school.

I went to Beijing for the holiday and it was incredible. It's an epic tale of intrigue, food poisoning, silk kimonos, Finnish people, the Great Wall of China, Mongolian farmers, scorpians on a stick, getting lost all alone, and much, much more. However, today I'd like to talk a little about Chuseok because: A. It was really fun. B. I am living in Korea, and I'd be remiss if I didn't discuss it at all. C. I don't want to forget to talk about it. Beijing can wait.

Chuseok is one of the occasions where Koreans wear Hanbok. Hanbok is the traditional dress of Korea, and it's pretty cool looking. Here's a picture that I found online so you can get an idea.


Since I work for a hagwon they made all the teachers wear hanbok. Our bosses provided them, but most of us looked rather ridiculous. Scratch that; all of us looked ridiculous. One of the guys looked like a mix between Aladdin and Jasmine. Most of the women at our school looked kind of, well, fat in the dresses. Meanwhile, the Koreans were beautiful. The children all came to school in their hanbok outfits, and they looked adorable. Naturally I forgot my camera, but I'll be getting pictures and posting them online eventually. Someone told me I looked like an adjuma in my dress. Adjuma is originally a term of respect for a Korean woman who's older than you. However, it has negative connotations. Specifically, an adjuma is often used to describe a "squat, tight haired, steely eyed, brightly dressed woman ready to bowl over, elbow, and gouge their way to a better place in line." (I looked up the word online, and I couldn't really come up with a more accurate description of the stereotype.)

During the morning, the children were taught etiquette. On Chuseok, young children ask their grandparents for money. There's a certain way you're supposed to bow and everything for it. Mostly what I got from it is that when a male sits, he puts his left hand over his right, and females put right over left.

After that, we made songpyeon. Songpyeon are Korean rice cakes. When I heard rice cakes, I pictured the Styrofoam rice cakes we have in the states. That's a whole different ball game. These are of a smooth, kind of cooled pudding texture. It’s sort of like biting into a wet, springy ball of clay. In the center, they put something like sesame seeds or bean paste. Apparently you can make all manner of shapes around the center. For the kids, we mostly stuck to the traditional shell shape. It’s not an unpleasant food, but it wasn’t really for me. Of course, I’m not necessarily a sweets person. Side note: if you have songpyeon, don’t try to bite it in half. Pop the whole thing in your mouth or you’ll end up squirting sweet rice juice all over yourself and/or others. Oops.


There's a picture of songpyeon so you can imagine the flavors a bit.

A little later, we played games. There was jegichagi, a Korean hacky sack style game. Instead of a ball, they use coins wrapped in paper with feathers attached. Being that the girls were wearing really long dresses, they weren't able to play very well. I hiked up my skirt because I was wearing pants underneath, but I had to stop because that encouraged the little girls to do so. They weren't wearing pants underneath.

We also played tug of war, and the kids got pretty into it. We did a tug of war with the teachers, guys against girls. The girls lost, but in our defense we were wearing long dresses and everyone but me slipped on their hems. When they went down, our kids swarmed the rope and pretty soon everyone was tugging. We still lost, but as you might imagine it was an adorable and sickeningly heartwarming time.

There are plenty of other aspects of Chuseok that I didn’t participate in, but this gives you a little taste of what it’s like. Apparently it’s quite the family holiday, much like Thanksgiving. Though, as far as I can tell, they don’t have a Chuseok parade or a football game.

Jonggak

So, I've had plenty of things to talk about, but very little time to do so. Hopefully I won't write another novel for this post.

(Points to you if you just scrolled down to see how long this posting was. Negative points if you scroll down now.)

Anyway, my coworker, H, and I went to Jonggak. That's the area around the government offices etc. in Seoul. It's really cool. There are plenty of little shops and stalls in the area (That's nothing new; Seoul's only form of tourism is shopping.) There was the Namsam tower, which I haven't gone up, but fully intend to. You can apparently see a lot of Seoul from there. That seems like something I can save for when someone (ahem!) visits me. Anyway, that tower is in a Korean TV show I like (Boys Over Flowers!! <3 arg, I can't believe I just made a heart. I must be turning.) There's also Bosingak Bell Tower, which has existed since the 1300's and still works. It's pretty cool looking.

We wandered to the man-made waterfall/source? and there was this cool screw sculpture thingie. In front of it, there was a taekwondo exhibition. In case you don't know, taekwondo began in Korea, so it's kind of a big deal here. The exhibition was awesome. They played music in the background (We heard Mulan and Pirates of the Caribbean) and did some dance/martial arts moves. Also, they broke boards and did incredible acrobatics. It was like extreme cheerleading meets martial arts meets glee club (though technically they didn't sing). When I put it like that, it sounds lame, but it was actually kind of awe-inspiring. Okay, I did giggle sometimes, but mostly I was impressed.

Also, we were wandering down the street, when this guy started talking to us in English. If you're in a foreign country and someone speaks in your language, that's guaranteed to make to you stop. Anyway, these people were opening a club, and they wanted us to go in. H made a joke about us getting sold for slavery, which I'm hoping went over his head. We tried to say no, but then he offered us free drinks, so naturally we went inside. It was pretty much what you picture when you think of a club. I've been to a few clubs by now, and they always strike me as kind of tawdry. But since this place still had the new club smell, it was kind of cool. Everything was white (except the staff, badum ching!) and the lighting was neon pink. It has the potential to be really swanky or really sleazy, depending on what happens to it in the next couple weeks. The most notable part of the club for me was the fact that the bartenders kept checking themselves out in the mirrors. Not to overgeneralize, but constant checking one's appearance is a common Korean pasttime. However, this wasn't just quick glances. There was this one guy who literally stood in front of the full length mirror and watched himself dance. I wouldn't have stared, but he was so busy looking soulfully into his own eyes he didn't notice.

Okay, I have lots more to talk about, but how about I keep it to Jonggak? I'll post some photos and later this week I'll share some more. Gosh, you're lucky.

By the way, I think I fixed the whole comment problem with my blog. So people should totally try to comment.

Mai Tai Monday

I've been pretty busy lately, but that's no excuse. I really should post more, if only to say "Hello, I'm still here, and no, I don't like corn yet."

So anyway, it's Thursday, and I can't help thinking of how colleges nickname this day "Thirsty Thursday." I know that there are nicknames for every day of the week, though I have no idea what Monday would be ("Margarita Monday?" "Muddle Monday?" "Moonshine Monday?"). Either way, as someone who is (finally) employed, I have to say: I didn't know what it was to crave Thirsty Thursday before now. A week of teaching children really makes me want a nice Mojito. (Ooh! Mojito Monday!!! That's perfect!) A few of us are going to celebrate Thirsty Thursday today. It's just so easy to buy a beer at the convenience store across the street and chat. Come to think of it, we've done that every day this week... If B is the number of beers drunk in one sitting, and S is the number of sittings in a week, then B times S is equal to the amount of BS we had to deal with at work that week. Perfect.

On another note, I did celebrate wing night on Tuesday. It wasn't on par with Taco Tuesday (which used to be my favorite day of the week), but it's still a nice break. We go to this bar in Itaewon called Rocky Mountain Tavern. It's a Canadian bar, and the guidebook says that the atmosphere "can be a little chilly if you aren't Canadian." Naturally, I don't understand where they got that idea, but I'm really curious about the writer's experience. Did Oh Canada come on the speakers, and he/she sat, humiliated, while everyone else sang? Can you spot a Canadian or non-Canadian on sight? What constitutes "chilly?"

Anyway, other than a few nights of relaxation, some swine flu hysteria, and Boys Over Flowers (I love you, Jun Pyo!), I haven't done much beyond work. And to be honest, the hysteria wasn't me, so it doesn't really count as something I did.

I'm still here, and I don't like corn yet.

Situation: Normal(ish)

Well, it's been pretty much exactly a week since I posted last, and though I don't have much to report, I figured I may as well report nonetheless.

It's a good thing I've little to report. I still have a job, though now I spend my mornings typing and inserting clip art. Afternoons are a little more interesting. We started a new semester this week, and that means I teach almost all new classes. Some of them are pretty exciting: I get to teach older kids! It's amazing how nice it is to not have to worry about tears every time I raise my voice. And yes, I still have to raise my voice. I also have two private lessons, which is nice.

Though I have to say, I was kind of spoiled with the girl I had as a private lesson before. Her name was Sylvia, and she was twelve, interested in English, and always gave me presents. She, however, is now in boarding school in Canada. I'm teaching her little brother now, but he's just not interested in English at all. Unless he's lying. He told me he had a pet alligator, and I was so excited he was talking that I let him tell me all about it. Of course, there are much less entertaining students to have. At least if I keep him lying, we'll have some moderately interesting conversations. Likely, they'll all revolve around dinosaurs and reptiles.

The stress levels at work are high. Everyone is getting ready for open class (except me) and the new semester. I have this surreal separation from everyone else since I no longer have a morning class. At first, it felt a little like I was a leper (like maybe it would spread). But now we're kind of back to normal. Normal for us anyway, which means lots of tempers, one bitch out, a mild revolt from the foreign teachers (that's us!), one firing (the new girl replacing O.), and emergency meetings. Please don't think my school is in constant uproar or anything; last week was really bad, and this week was all about sandbagging. Plus there may or may not be some rather dramatic personalities within the school walls.

I've also been around Seoul a bit more. For the most part, I keep to the places people have taken me before (Hungdae, Itaewon, Insadong, Dongdaemon). There aren't many places for a tourist to visit here. I asked someone about that, and she said that most of the tourism involves shopping. There are a couple things like the city wall, or a palace or two. But for the most part, it's open markets and strange shops. I kind of prefer that, to be honest.

Okay, there's not much else to say. It's a Sunday, and I spent the day relaxing and watching old movies (To Catch a Thief, It Happened One Night, etc). So I'd better go before I get more inane than usual.