Voluntary trip from hell?

I get a few days off in late May, and the holidays after that all land on weekends. So I devised a possible getaway plan for that week. The question is... am I crazy to do this?

Here's how it looks (this may or may not be possible):

-Tuesday afternoon/evening: come home from work, take a short nap
-Wednesday morning, around 2am: go to Seoul Station (close to my place) and take KTX bullet train to Busan
-Wednesday morning, around dawn: arrive in Busan, take earliest ferry to Fukuoka
-Wednesday, mid-morning or around noon: arrive in Fukuoka, take bullet train to Hiroshima
-Wednesday evening: return to Fukuoka and stay in hostel, or stay overnight in Hiroshima hostel (depends on when my Hiroshima activity finishes)
-Thursday: explore Fukuoka, start heading back in mid-afternoon
-Thursday evening: arrive in Busan, get on KTX bullet train to Seoul
-Friday morning: back at Seoul Station, take the short stroll home and rest up a bit
-Saturday, around 6am: trip to the DMZ
-Sunday: rest at home and sleep in

This schedule assumes that the KTX runs 24 hours, which is a rumor that I heard but haven't verified yet. In any case, this sounds like an insane trip. But since I'm all the way over here, it might be the last chance I'll get in a while to explore East Asia.

I'm still debating whether or not to try this stunt.

Yellow Dust frenzy

For visitors to this blog from outside Korea, please note that this post's title is not meant to be racist. However, I fully support a "Banana Dust" for us white-washed Asians. We need our own dust. Now... "Black Dust" would simply be a stroke of awesomeness. It would look so freaking cool.

Anyways, every spring, northern China, Korea and Japan get covered frequently by dust storms originating from China, called "Yellow Dust" or "Asian Dust" (황사). Today, a huge dust storm hit northern China and Korea. It got so bad that I actually had to turn on the lights at 11:45am because it was so dark. It was like the apocalypse.

I headed out to take some photos, and ended up at the Seoul World Cup Stadium. Here's how it looked.

Above: Seoul World Cup Stadium, around 2pm and with its surroundings colored and sometimes obscured by Yellow Dust.

According to the official readings, the warning level today was between "very unhealthy" and "hazardous." It felt like I was in a world where the sun never really shines, like in Blade Runner or something.

Very scary stuff, and today is only the spring equinox -- only the start of the Yellow Dust season.

Oh... my... goodness...

It's been snowing for most of last night and half of today, and Seoul's streets are covered with snow and slush. The temperatures took a pretty big dive and it's been the coldest in a while.

So it came as a huge shock to me when I went to shop for groceries today near Seoul Station, and noticed something strange on the sidewalk. It looked like a person, and there was some sort of liquid coming out of him/her. Immediately I assumed that it was someone who drank too much soju and was throwing up; after all, Korea is known for people getting drunk.

And then I noticed that the head looked strange. It looked like TWO heads. And they both looked bald. And then I realized that those aren't heads. I was wondering what they were when the person stood up. Suddenly it became clear what I just saw.

It was a woman who pulled down her pants and was peeing on the sidewalk, with her butt exposed for everyone to view. The two "heads" were her butt cheeks. The "vomit" was actually urine. So she was urinating in public with her butt exposed to the snowy weather (and towards oncoming traffic!) in central Seoul.

I think I'm going to have a few nightmares tonight.

Snowy wonderland

Because this was a "work from home" week, I've been staying inside for almost the entire week to avoid the snow outside; my friend Kavita knows, but I'm in an EXTREMELY hilly area and snow has made my area quite dangerous.

But yesterday, I finally wandered outside. Some areas are still quite dangerous and slippery (and resemble skating rinks), but some of the areas have been cleared.

Near the Lotte Mart at the Seoul bullet train station (where I do my shopping), there was a large snow bank. How large, you ask? Well, this picture will tell you:

Above: The large snow bank outside Seoul Station's Lotte Mart.

I really feel sorry for the teachers who had to teach winter camp this past week. Mine starts on Monday, so I got to skip the huge snowfall and stay home. I didn't even go outside for lunch. The snow has made me a cook, as I learned how to make several new dishes ths week. I guess there's a benefit to all of this.

So this is what -21 degrees C feels like...

Last night, the temperatures here reached -21 degrees Celsius (-6 degrees Fahrenheit). I was having a late night Skype phone conversation with my friend Larry from Rowland Heights when I suddenly said, "Holy shit!" Why? Because of this:



This was my kitchen window last night. It was as if the iceman from X-Men came in and touched it.

For once, I have school and don't want it to be canceled

(Warning: this post contains "Wikipedism.")

"Snow day." "Teachers' strike." "School shooting threat." Every kid dreams to hear these words. (Okay, maybe not the last one, but it did happen to me once back in Canada.) Why? Because that means one thing -- school is canceled!

My brand-new alarm clock radio (which also has an iPod dock... I love it!) awoke me yesterday. It was tuned to TBS eFM, one of the two English-language radio stations here in Seoul, and the morning news was on. The newscaster informed me that the South Korean government officials were meeting this week to discuss whether to raise the H1N1 alert level to "red" -- the highest possible level.

Sure. Okay. Even though I was a bit concerned, I didn't think too much of it. And then this morning, they repeated this information but said that the meeting has been pushed up to THIS MORNING (as opposed to tomorrow, as originally planned). If they decided to raise the level, it could mean nation-wide school closures. Okay, now this was serious business, even though I knew that students were scheduled to get vaccinated on November 20.

Apparently this country has been nearing 10,000 H1N1 infections per day, which led to this sudden urgency. As it turned out, the alert level was indeed raised to "red," which means schools and other public institutions and places may close. While I don't know if anything will happen at this point, it feels like school closures are imminent. For example, since September, my school had been checking everyone's temperatures before entering the school. Today, that didn't happen for some reason. It was as if they were expecting something to happen soon.

While students are probably praying for a "swine flu holiday," I really hope we don't get one. For the holidays, I have a vacation planned and I think if school was canceled, we might have to sacrifice some of the winter holidays to make up for the canceled classes. (The vacation is very important because it also doubles as an "ID card run" -- I need to apply in person for an ID card in that vacation spot because I was born there. This is the first real chance I've had to apply for it.) Also, the senior grades' final exams are next week, which complicates things.

But as I said, it feels like a closure is imminent. After work today, I stocked up on essentials such as extremely nutritious food. My monthly grocery budget has gone down the drain, but if the H1N1 danger is really getting worse this rapidly in this country, I might as well prepare myself to stay inside as much as possible until this thing blows over.

On the plus side, if this swine flu thing doesn't materialize but Kim Jong Il decides to invade instead, I now have decent survival materials.

Earthquakes can never prepare you for thunder and lightning

These past couple of weeks have been full of unstable weather here in Seoul. Every day, I would look out the window and try to predict whether it will be raining or not. At least back in Vancouver, you could tell -- if it's cloudy there, it'll likely remain cloudy for much of the day (or the week, for that matter). Here, it can change in an instant.

So imagine how I felt when I went to bed and it was still relatively clear, only to be awakened at around 3am by lightning and thunder. I stirred, looked around and went like, "Oh. It's thundering and lightning(ing?). Great." And then I buried my head back in the pillow again.

And then...

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

I've been through earthquakes before, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened. The whole room shook and the boom was deafening. I nearly fell out of bed in surprise. "What the bloody hell?" I thought. I had a tough time sleeping after that.

This morning, as I was brushing my teeth, I wondered if that boom and the shaking came from a direct lightning strike. I wonder if my poor little apartment was struck by lightning. The power was fine but even if there was a surge, the lights were off (obviously, since I was sleeping) so I couldn't tell anyway. But either my apartment got a direct hit, or a neighboring unit or building did (since my windows are about a foot away from the neighboring buildings).

Scary.

I'm wired again

It sounds so weird, but I was without internet for about 4 days.

Yes. No internet. In South Korea. Holy crappola! Arrest that man -- he has no internet in the most wired country in the world!

But now I'm back with my new (non-free) internet connection, which gives me speeds of about 20 MB per second for about $17 per month. Well, technically it's $30 but they have a weird rebate system over here. Instead of rebating money, they give you money when you sign a contract with them. Once you factor that in and subtract that from the actual monthly fee, it's closer to $17 per month. Bless you, South Korea!

I also got a wifi router so that I can finally use my iPod Touch at home again, and also for use when/if someone (like family members) visit. That way, they won't have to share my computer to get online and have to dig through all my crap just to launch Firefox. But the damned wifi router's instructions and setup program are in Korean. Like, 99% is in Korean, except for random abbreviations like "ADSL" and stuff. So I'd like to password-protect my wifi but can't figure it out because, well, I don't understand Korean besides basic place names and "hello" and "thank you."

In a weird twist, my old internet connection got cut on the same night that I finally got a phone number. It was like sacrificing one form of communication for another. The best thing about South Korean cellphone service compared to Canadian service is that incoming calls are free. That suits me perfectly, because I tend to have a lot more incoming calls that outgoing calls. The only bad part is that my cellphone gets really hot when I use it for more than 15 minutes. Hopefully I won't have a big burn on my face after talking for a long time.

When the new internet was installed, the installation guy had to come into the apartment and poke his head out the window to check for something. I never had reason to do so, so I had no idea what it looked like outside. So after he went back to his truck to get something, I did the same thing... and apparently the network wire that connects into my apartment through a drilled hole near the windowsill leads directly to a power line. I was like, "Holy shit." I mean, it's not unusual to see a huge mess/tangle of wires above the side streets of Seoul, but now I realize that a huge fraction of those lines leads directly into apartments through windows and stuff. This city would be so screwed if it was in an earthquake zone, because the wires would come tumbling down together and the whole city would be electrocuted. Man.

Work is going a lot smoother now... I'm starting to figure out what works and what doesn't, and the students are getting more accustomed to me. At first they were a bit terrified. They still are terrified but at least they feel more comfortable with me now. There's a funny story with that, involving street food and the students, which I'll post later this week.

Oh, and I've fallen in love with Ellie Nash again. More on that later.

SMOE's teacher hiring chaos

A lot of native English teachers are already aware of the 100 people that were told by SMOE that they no longer had a job with them -- AFTER they signed the contract, AFTER they got their visas, and 24 HOURS before their (non-refundable) flight to Seoul.

Well, from the same author as that blog link comes the best editorial about the issue I've read so far; it appeared in the Korea Herald today. It's quite a good read, and hits the nail on the head. It really does make me feel lucky that I wasn't one of the 100 who lost their jobs at the last minute (although since I was officially with EPIK and not SMOE, it was possible that they could've just placed me elsewhere in the country if this actually happened to me).

But I really do feel for the 100 who did get dropped. I was actually already in contact with someone on the same boat as me (recruited by EPIK and transferred to SMOE) and we were talking about how we were finally going to meet each other in person -- and then SMOE informed him that they weren't hiring him after all.

Luckily, he wasn't one of the poor guys who were told 24 hours before the flight (he was told about a week before, I think), but the way it all unraveled is pretty scary. Because of that, I did not relax when I got my NOA. Nor did I relax when I stepped foot at Incheon International Airport. Nor did I relax when I was waiting for the shuttle bus to orientation. I relaxed a little at the orientation venue, but not completely. I didn't completely relax until I finally had some alone time in my new apartment (mostly due to the Dongdaemun Stadium co-op worries).

Welcome to Korea. Come for the job, stay for the mind games. Hopefully this is a one-time thing, but prepare yourself in case it isn't.

This Would Never Happen in Canada: motorcycles

Along with South Korea Sights, I will also start a semi-regular feature called This Would Never Happen in Canada. The title was inspired by the catchphrase, "This would never happen in Japan" from a message board I frequent.

The segment will be very short and will talk about... well, I think the title is self-explanatory.

---

This would never happen in Canada: motorcycles regularly using sidewalks.

Here in Seoul, sidewalks are for pedestrians and motorcycles. Sometimes the sidewalks are wide enough for this to happen, but sometimes not. Once, I was on a sidewalk in Yongsan less than a meter wide, and a scooter decided to squeeze by me. This is not only normal, but expected. It's never a bad idea to be overly paranoid while navigating the sidewalks of Seoul. Sidewalks also double as motorcycle parking lots sometimes.

Similarly, motorcycles often use pedestrian crosswalks. It is not unusual to be standing there waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green, and looking next to you and seeing a motorcycle rider doing the same thing.

Motorcycles are also used as delivery trucks. We do this in Canada for stuff like pizza deliveries, I know. But here, they do it for anything from pizza to huge rolls of carpet. It's amazing how big a load they can add to a motorcycle without losing balance. And some of these guys drive the motorcycle with only one hand on the handlebars and often without helmets!

Seeing the traffic in Seoul (and its side streets), it's often understandable why a motorcycle would look like a wiser choice. I'm now trying to imagine how UBC would look if students used motorcycles instead of regular bikes to get from class to class...

In Korea

I waited a bit to post this because there's a lot of meat in this one -- no pun intended (you'll see what I mean later).

Well, there went the longest flight I've taken since I was a small kid. My plan to sleep during the flight didn't exactly pan out but the plane got upgraded to one with laptop plugs, so I kept myself entertained, at least. Plus, the guy sitting next to me was a Chinese student who was visiting Vancouver for an engineers' symposium at UBC, so we had quite a lot to discuss (including why Wreck Beach is so famous).

The Shanghai airport's customs system is kind of wacky. It was actually posible to leave the airport during the flight connection. It was 33 degrees Celsius plus humidity. As soon as I stepped out, I either started sweating or everything attached me started to become wet -- one of the two. In any case, I decided that 30 seconds was enough.

Above: Shanghai's Budong Airport's terminal is large and spacious, but doesn't seem to have air conditioning, which made for a stuffy wait. That didn't stop me from conquering the place in the name of the Anaheim Ducks.

Another weird part about that is between being let out and going back in (I needed to clear customs twice -- once for entering the arrivals terminal and once again for getting back into the secured area as a passenger for the second leg of the journey) -- they had me under medical quarantine for a while. Apparently all the people on board our plane with connecting flights had to get our temperatures taken. They kept me longer than the others, but apparently it was due to a thermometer malfunction; it gave me a temperature reading that was so low that I should be dead by now. But it got resolved easily.

The second leg of the journey from Shanghai to Seoul was less interesting. The guy next to me was a Korean who didn't speak much English at all but his son is learning it in school and practiced some phrases with me. In return, the Korean dad helped me with nailing down the pronunciations of certain key Korean phrases like "kamsa hamnida" ("thank you") and "annyeong haseo" ("hello"). Apparently I wasn't that far off, despite learning only through text; the only problems I had involved stressing the correct syllables.

However, the most interesting part of that flight came during the landing process. You know the NASA world map of the earth's lights at night? Notice how North Korea is all dark and South Korea is all bright. Well, since Incheon and Seoul are about an hour's drive away from the border with North Korea, I got to see the difference with my own two eyes that night -- that NASA pic shows the truth. Yikes.

The customs in South Korea is, as someone I know put it so elegantly, a complete joke for a country that's still technically at war (with North Korea, obviously). There were no questions asked, and apparently that is close to the norm. The only difference is that my passport visa explains my purpose in South Korea, while other people need to be asked about that.

I spent an overnighter at Incheon International Airport (which serves Seoul). It wasn't comfortable but not uncomfortable either. It was eerily quiet. And over here, airport security must march down the hallways back and forth, in pairs always next to each other. And their dress is similar to a soldier's (there might be a reason for that), so it felt like a neverending army march while you try to sleep.

Above: Late night at Incheon International Airport. They actually turn off a lot of lights as midnight approaches, and then like this around 3:30am. And then the lights start coming back on again.

Finally checked into the hotel this morning. It was freaking sweltering today... I knew this ahead of time, but I arrived in the middle of a little heat wave. I tried to nap but anything more than one hour proved futile, so I took the subway ride out to Seoul. Coincidentally, when my card made a weird hiccup and I asked the only white person around if they knew what the error meant (since nobody else spoke English), he happened to ask me where I'm from -- and he's from Richmond too! Small world.

Seoul traffic is insane. I thought Richmond was bad, but Richmond drivers are now angelic by comparison. Here, it doesn't matter whether the traffic light is red or green -- if the drivers don't see anyone crossing, they'll just shoot ahead. And this doesn't happen with only one driver, but almost always several at a time. In other words, multiple red light dashers in a row.

There were also more close calls in today's journey than I've seen all year in Richmond. It's amazing that so many of them don't result in accidents, but I happened to see two incidents that DID turn into accidents -- and both were hit-and-run. One of them took off while the other is left staring at the damage and trying to get witnesses (and none of the other drivers were willing to be one). It makes me feel really self-conscious about even going out on the streets. I got off at Yongsan Station (where I met the fellow Richmonder) and made it to Samgakji Station somehow, someway.

It was during that short stretch that I saw all the craziness. That was enough for me... I decided to get the heck out of dodge and get back to the hotel in Incheon, where I showered off all the sweat that came from the humidity (or maybe I was washing off the humidity itself, I don't know) and relaxed in some air conditioning for a bit while sorting photos.

(If you feel like making an offensive "Asians can't drive" joke at this point, I don't blame you. I would.)

It's been pretty humid and hot today... I landed right in a heat wave and lingering summer storm (typical Asian weather pattern in summer). Temps are in the 30s Celsius right now and it's almost 9pm. It's supposed to drop to the low 20s Celsius by the end of the week.

And tonight for dinner, I forgot how much the South Korea won is and how much you can get for it. I did something stupid and ordered 32,000 won of food, which turned out to be enough to feed a whole family. I guess that's a lesson learned -- if it's slightly less than 10,000 won, then it's more than enough. I'm so used to the small servings at home, while here they give you HUGE servings! Lesson learned... next time, spend as little as possible on food because there's a chance that they'll give you more than enough.

The bad thing about everything in terms of keeping touch with the outside world is that my cellphone doesn't work here because it's a GSM phone on prepaid, and the hotel doesn't have wifi (they only offer internet on a shared computer in the lobby). I'm writing this post at the arrivals level of the Incheon airport, where I spent the night about 24 hours ago, because they have free wifi with a very strong signal and also a power outlet nearby. The hotel's only two subway stations away from the airport (one if you don't count the airport's cargo terminal).

I'll be off to the teacher orientation tomorrow. There were some coming in today (for the non-Seoul EPIK teachers) and I had a nice chat with someone who came in from Los Angeles before I left for the hotel. Seems that for their group, they were overloaded to the point where people can't bring more than one suitcase into the dorm rooms; all other luggage was to be locked up. I didn't hear anything about this for my EPIK-Seoul orientation, but we're guaranteed to have a smaller group (since there are only 100 of us, as opposed to the huge biker gang-like group for today's group).

What have I gotten myself into?

Well. I'm 10 days away from lifting off from the familiar comforts of Vancouver, entering the temporary comforts of Shanghai's airport and starting my year-long trek in the unfamiliar comforts of Seoul.

I received my NOA and, along with it, submitted my visa application on Wednesday. The visa should be ready for me by this coming Thursday. The NOA is pretty much confirmation that you've been hired to work as a foreign English teacher in South Korea and the one document that completes the visa process. This is pretty much the finishing touch on the long and complex monster that is international bureaucracy.

Which brings me to one thought -- what have I gotten myself into?

Above: The flags of Canada and South Korea side by side outside the South Korean consulate on West Georgia Street in downtown Vancouver.

Just a few months ago, in February, I was contemplating my life after graduating from university. I was already considering going into teaching (well... tutoring, at least) in some of those after-school learning centers. I mean, why not? It would be a good first job in the "real world" and would give me an idea of whether or not I want to pursue teaching as a profession.

And then the economy spiralled downhill and the jobs dried up.

Maybe that was a bit too over-dramatic, but suddenly a lot of those jobs were snatched up (no surprise) at the same time as everyone stopped hiring and started cutting back everything -- budgets, spending, etc. Canada, which was priding itself in how it has managed to dodge the recession bullet so far, has finally been hit. Man down!

Obviously, I started worrying. And then at the university, there was a career fair-like thing where employers are searching for university graduates or students who want to work starting this summer. Among them was EPIK.

While I had my eye on several other employers, there was a problem with a lot of them. Either I wasn't qualified (such as for jobs in accounting or financial institutions) or the jobs were short-term and temporary (such as summer camp jobs or jobs with NBC for the 2010 Winter Olympics here in Vancouver).

EPIK caught my eye but it wasn't because of something special they did, but it was because it was for a job that I would be at least half-qualified for (as an English major) and also because Korea has fascinated me since high school, especially the fact that it still exists. I've always been intrigued by how Korea has been able to keep existing for so many years because you'd think that with the uneasy truce between North Korea and South Korea, something would've happened by now (especially with Kim Jong Il in the picture) no matter how stupid or reckless it would be for one to attack the other.

As a result, there was a trend in my university career in which I would write at least one research paper about Korea per school year. Somehow, someway, that monster kept butting its ugly head above the surface. The ironic thing is that despite all the research and fascination, I've never been to Korea. I've never even been near Korea. The closest I've been was when I was about 9 years old when we switched flights at Tokyo's Narita Airport en route to and from Hong Kong.

As for the career part, it would give me an idea of whether teaching is something I want to do. If not, then at least I have one year of work experience under my belt and some international experience that I can put on a resume (in case I apply for a position that would require doing business internationally). After doing some research and finding out that the costs of living are much lower than Vancouver's (which actually isn't saying too much) and asking around about how much money can be spent and saved, it also seemed to be a great way to pay off some student loans without worrying about getting laid off admidst this stupid recession.

In addition, EPIK is reimbursing airfare to and from Korea and providing housing, so my only expenses would be utilities, food, transportation and entertainment (which isn't likely going to be a big expense, considering my lifestyle and what I consider "entertainment"). It seemed like a logical first step, and would serve to keep my "travel the world" itch under control for a while.

But now I'm only 10 days from actually taking this first step, and I am scared to death and wondering what I've gotten myself into. I was nervous enough about leaving university and entering the workforce when I assumed I'd be staying here in Vancouver, but now the situation involves a new city, a new country, a new language and a new culture to go along with the new job.

If someone told me back in February that this is what I'd be doing in less than half a year, I would've responded with, "Holy crap."

Planes like crashing near my house

It is past 2:00am and I am sitting here at my computer, drinking some hot cocoa. Sometimes you feel so jittery that you try to drink something that usually makes you even more jittery (like hot cocoa) in an attempt to make yourself less jittery. I don't know how the hell that works, but it's worth a try.

Why am I so jittery? Well, the thought of two planes crashing within two years within biking distance from my house seems like a good reason to be nervous, does it not?

Around 10:06pm tonight (I guess it'd be last night on July 9, since we're past 12:00am now), a small plane bound for Vancouver International Airport crashed here in Richmond, resulting in a huge fireball and at least one large explosion. (News story: [Vancouver Province].)

The crash site is about 15-20 minutes from my house, and less than 300 meters from the Summer Night Market, a large weekend attraction that would've been open to thousands of people had it been Friday or a weekend rather than a Thursday (as it's closed from Mondays to Thursdays).



By the looks of it, what happened was that the pilot of the small plane that crashed was following too closely behind a large Airbus plane, thus getting caught in the wake turbulence behind it. That caused the pilot to lose control of the plane, and the aircraft eventually hit the ground nose-first in an industrial zone in northern Richmond.

Above: the plane's last approximate position before disappearing from the flight tracking map; it likely hit the wake turbulence of the large Airbus on the left. (Courtesy: WebTrak for Vancouver International Airport.)

While that area is well known for being one of Vancouver International Airport's flight paths and while the cause of the crash appears to be an error by the pilot, this is certainly unnerving. Just two years ago, in the fall of 2007, Richmond was also hit by a plane crash. Unlike the one tonight, which hit an unoccupied industrial zone in the middle of the night, the one in 2007 hit a residential complex in downtown Richmond (just 10 minutes from my house) during rush hour, narrowly missing the popular Richmond Public Market. (News story: [CTV].)

From 2007's crash:



While both of these are completely different types of crashes (except for the fact that they both occurred here in Richmond and they both involved small planes), this still feels scary. Richmond is home to the airport, and most of the residents live on the west end of Richmond; surprise, surprise, the airport is also located on the west end of the city. It makes me wonder if we're all a bunch of dumbasses for setting up our city like this.

But then again, at least we're not Hong Kong yet (despite our huge Chinese population):



Let's just hope that in the future, flights landing and departing Vancouver International Airport get less exciting. "No news is good news," as they say.