Every year there is a rape festival in Korea. Relax guys they are just flowers.

The festival takes place on Jeju-do, an Island with much more to offer than rape blossoms. Known as "Korea's Hawaii," Jeju is world famous for it's black sand beaches, volcanic mountain, and many other natural wonders. There also might be unicorns there according to North Korea. While these are all great reasons to visit the island, Jeju's main attraction goes by "Karl."

Karl is a fellow TaLK scholar. Karl lives on Jeju island. Karl received the "congeniality award" for his exemplary behavior. It's no wonder he won. He's a sweet boy. An innocent and honest young man. At least that's what I thought.

You see Karl also has a different side. A side few people get the chance to experience. This Karl once said to me, in a happy voice, while smiling, "Hey we should set something on fire. Do you want to go steal a car tonight?" Imagine the guy pictured above saying that. It didn't make sense.

I had to further explore this side of Karl. I had to go to Jeju. 

My route to Jeju required a long bus ride to the southern city of Busan, followed by a 40-minute flight. I was finally within striking distance of Karl.

I haven't yet mentioned the trip to Jeju was free, subsidized by excess educational funding in our region. That makes it ridiculous to complain, but I'm going to anyway. My complaint is that the regimented nature of a large group trip comes with minimal flexibility, making it rather difficult to hunt Karl.

I patiently waited for the moment I could see Karl as we checked off items on a packed itinerary, like the Mongolian horse show documented below.

If you watched the video I'm sorry for making you hear that song again. If you saw the pony pictures you're welcome.

After the pony show came a stop at Loveland.

Loveland is the kind of place you wouldn't expect to find in Korea. It's also the kind of place you can't write about if your niece reads your blog. Well here are some pictures to take the place of words. These are mild ones but you'll get the idea.

All Loveland did was make me think of Karl more, but I remained patient. The time would come.

After a group dinner, the day's last obligation, a friend and I took a cab across town directly to Karl.
In excitement I may have accidentally told the cab driver to "go to Karl." Fifteen minutes later my dream became a reality. Reunion. This picture of us is the only way I can describe the feeling.

A few other friends were there to enjoy the spectacle as we all caught up over rounds of makgeoli, a traditional Korean wine made from rice. No I won't tell you what we talked about, but Karl you didn't disappoint me. The trip was well worth it, even if we didn't have time to steal any cars.

In conclusion:

• Karl I think you're slightly grumpier than I remember 
• Jeju is neat
• I want a pony
  

수고하세요.

This is a test. Mom do you read this? Dad are you there? Do you guys like this picture? It's a sign I saw the other day. If I get an email of disapproval I'll know you still visit this site.

"Mini skirts arrived as fashion in the 1990's."
"So crispy."
"Kentucky Fried road race to Las Vegas 1983."
"Leave Jordan and the Wu Tang alone."
"Lemon drop puffin cinnamon mmfin so good"

These sentences only make sense if you've been to the famed Dongdaemun clothing market in Seoul. Dongdaemun is home to the best tee shirts on Earth, and searching for gems among the maze of vendors has become a hobby of mine.

I found myself in Dongdaemun recently because I just like had to go shopping. It's what I do when I feel bad, and I was feeling awful that day.

You see my brother in law Todd came to visit, and after saying goodbye to him I realized that I'd been a terrible host. The guilt temporarily subsided when a dress caught my eye, but then I felt bad again.

I felt bad for a number of reasons.

First of all, instead of conveniently meeting Todd in Seoul, I made him travel solo to my remote town of Uljin, with nothing to follow but a set of vague Amazing-Race style directions.

His flight was delayed, he missed a number of buses, and with no cell phone service Todd ended up in Uljin half past midnight after about 15 hours of traveling.

How inconsiderate of me. Todd had gone through a lot of trouble to visit, and I had neglected the rare opportunity to have family in Uljin. I wanted to make it up to him.

So, after he arrived, I abandoned Todd for 11 hours while I traveled to a different city by myself. At least I didn't leave him alone, he was in good hands.

As I walked aimlessly around Dongdaemun, inside a building called "hello a p.m.", I kept thinking about Todd.  I should have been more hospitable. What could I have done differently? How can I redeem myself? Should I buy this dress? 

At least one of those questions was easy to answer, but the other two took some thinking. Then a solution came to mind. Nice November.

Throughout my time in Korea, many people have gone out of their way to help me. I wanted to give back to these individuals by doing uncharacteristically nice things for a couple weeks in November. Then in December I just won't talk to people and it will be okay.

I also wanted my November to have a theme, like "No Shave November." I'm tired of feeling left out every year because I can't really grow facial hair. I only started shaving because my friends were doing it.

As Nice November commenced, It was only right to start the kindness campaign with Todd, by reminding him he resembles the child of Steve Carell and Ben Stiller. I consider this a compliment and therefore nice.

After that I was on a roll to becoming a temporarily nicer human being.

Nice November Week 1: Bought coffee for strangers, brought in cake for my school, gave $2 bill souvenirs to the cafeteria staff, didn't tell the cafeteria staff that the bills aren't actually that rare, printed and distributed volleyball team pictures, didn't hit my students while angry, forced the same students to make birthday cards for my mother, then forced them to make birthday cards for a friend, made my own birthday card for a different friend, took my mentor teacher out for dinner, gave persimmons to a stranger, helped record a voice over for an English project that required me to pretend like I was a 55 year-old Father, and bought my students ice cream so they would stop complaining about making cards.

Nice November Week 2: Yeah I definitely stopped after the first week.

It may have been brief, but I think the events of Nice November have permanently changed me. I now know exactly what I want to do with my life.
 
I want to make the tee-shirts they sell at Dongdaemun Market.

Have you ever heard of the Andong Mask Festival? I didn't think so. Man you are so ignorant. Let me tell you about it.

Basically the city of Andong is famous for many things, like masks and chicken and stuff. Every year their festival attracts visitors coming to celebrate the cultural diversity of the area. I have never been to the Andong Mask Festival, I don't know why you asked about it.

I made it to a number of other festivals though, as there seems to be a festival every weekend here in Korea. My favorite event to date would hands down be the Lantern Festival held in the southern city of Jinju.

Thousands of hand made lanterns lined the city-splitting river in Jinju, accompanied by scores of larger lanterns floating on the water itself.

You could even make your own lantern. All you had to do was create a sketch and local art students helped bring your vision to fruition. Many people made stars, hearts, or symbols of Korea. A friend and I decided to make a "crab-baby," pictured below.

When we proposed our crab-baby lantern, the assistant art student said "you absolutely cannot make that." I guess she'd never been to the Uljin crab festival; where the amount of soju and crabs prove that this creature possible.

Back to the drawing board. Next we proposed a kimbap airplane. The same art student gave us the go-ahead, but we couldn't finish the wings in time so instead just created a green cylinder.

Did our kimbap airplane turn out beautiful? Not at all, it was embarrassing, so I tried to get rid of it. First, on a friend's back....

Then, on the side of a walkway housed with lanterns that were actually good.

At least other people are skilled at making lanterns...

I'm not sure when my next festival visit will take place, but I'm looking forward to it. Maybe there is a film festival? I'm only going if this is playing:

I'll conclude this update with an unnecessary description of "Turbo Man,"one of Uljin's many colorful characters. Turbo man helps people cross the street in front of the post office, which means he only has to do things maybe four times a day. His English is quite good, so I stop to chat with him as much as possible.

I thought I knew Turbo Man, I really did. He seemed like a simple man. Then I saw him about 3 miles South of town dressed in an all white gown, feathers on his head, playing a bass drum. Today on my ride home from school another unexpected Turbo man sighting occurred. He was alone, wearing a helmet and an all jean outfit, pouring cement into non-existent holes on the side of the road. I am so confused. I have to go.

Did you know Korea has four seasons? Because if you didn't, someone here will remind you every day. 

My fellow teachers seem proud of the fact their country changes every three months, and I don't blame them. It's been great. The transition from a grueling summer to routinely perfect weather has significantly improved the general mood of most Uljinites.

My only complaint with the seasonal change is the accompanying nostalgia for this time of year back home, you know, Fall. Fall is one of our seasons in the states. Did you know America has four seasons?

Anyway, I combated the nostalgia by recreating a trip from last year's Autumn in video form:

Big Foot at the 1:47 mark?

And while we're on the subject of videos, this is what happens when corn-fed Midwestern friends, like the ones from the previous video, come to Korea:

And the inspiration behind those moves comes from Elementary School students:

Ok one more video. One for every Korean season.

And a bonus vid for all my countries out there with five seasons.

After 9 months here I've finally decided on a Korean name: "Ok-Su-Su." It means corn, and it's fitting because an Englishman in town named Jack wrongly assumed I'm from a corn farm in Iowa and constantly calls me "Corn Fed Erik."

Jack, my name is not corn fed Erik. My name is Ok-Su-Su. So why do I need a Korean name? Because I'm jealous my students get English names. Even the guy who helps people cross the street is known as "Turbo Man." I also needed a Korean name for the recently founded Uljin Korean Club. K-Club is a secret off-shoot of the already well established English Club. It's so secretive that I'm putting it on the internet. 

To gauge interest for K-Club, I sent out an email to a few friends in town, but after pressing "K" too many times I accidentally invited them to "KKK-Club." To my delight a few people responded, but it was bittersweet because they might be racist.

K-Club's few members are named Jack, Vinny, and Nashwin. Oh and Ok-Su-Su.

The best way I can describe Jack is by summarizing our last basketball game together. We were casually playing when two young Korean kids asked to join us. The game was running smoothly, until Jack scored and punched the basketball towards one of the kids, hitting him in the face and knocking his glasses off. Jack gave the ball back to the boy, then immediately proceeded to steal it from him and drive in for another lay-up. After scoring again, he tossed the ball in the same boy's direction and again hit him in the head. The Korean boy surprisingly recovered and tried to take a shot, but Jack used his 2-foot height advantage to reject him. A celebratory fist pump followed. All of this happened in less than a minute. The kids were maybe 14? Jack is 28.

The best way I can describe Vinny is that his business email address is "HongKongFury."

The best way I can describe Nashwin is by instead describing professional golfer Vijay Singh.

It wasn't on purpose, but Korean Club is turning out to be the exact opposite of English Club. We meet on Thursday mornings, English club meets on Thursday nights. Korean Club meets at 1st Coffee, English Club meets one building away at Uljin's other popular coffee shop, ToPresso.

ToPresso's owner Danny is a very friendly man, but I also love the hard working ladies of 1st Coffee. My only complaint is their unusually small toilet. 

It's my hope that K-Club pushes me to learn more about the culture and language driving my experience here. In attempt to get more in touch with the culture, I self-assigned some homework: go to more public bath houses. On my last visit I was surrounded by men reading laminated, water-proof newspapers. In attempt to further grasp the language, Vinny and I stopped speaking English to each other. It's improving our lingual skills but our friendship is deteriorating.

I'm not sure what will happen when English Club and Korean Club find out about each other, but I'm curious to see which language is exchanged.

The other day I got slapped in the face. The assailant fits the description of most criminals, he's a second grader named "Harry."

I guess it was a rite of passage. I mean,  every teacher gets slapped by a student at some point right?

Wrong.

In fairness it wasn't like Harry ran up to me and tried to attack the teacher, he just kind of had an excitement freakout and I happened to be in proximity. This kid can't control his limbs when he gets too happy and it was a happy day. Well it was supposed to be a happy day, but I ruined it.

I ruined Party Day.

"Party Day" comes about once every few months, if a class behaves consistently well enough to earn it. My second graders, without a doubt the star class at school, have earned quite a few of these. Even as Party Day veterans they still revel at the opportunity to eat snacks and watch English movies.

But then they started to push it. "Teacha Cookie Party Day?" Whoa take it easy guys I never mentioned cookies. 

Before I could veto the idea they were chanting "coo-kies, coo-kies" and I had no choice but to give in to an unprecedented "Cookie Party Day."

Now this is a big deal in the life of an elementary aged child, and I asked my co-teacher to help provide the cookies while I'd take care of the movie and other snacks. He agreed.

The days leading up to Cookie Party Day were intense. I couldn't have a conversation with one of the second graders without them mentioning chocolate chips. They were so excited they started to give me presents. A few students even brought me movie tickets (pictured left).

They were very happy and proud to give me the tickets, but I was moderately disappointed to receive them. I mean thanks kids but this plot looks terrible.

Finally the big day came and I biked to school early for last minute preparations. Most second graders stopped by the English room an hour before class just to set up their snacks. 


Harry was one of the exceptions, casually strolling in right as the bell rang. I say bell but it's more of a techno jingle, and its not as bizarre as the classical music that plays in our bathrooms. The classical music is not as bizarre as the fact students wave to me while I'm in the bathroom, because the doors are glass.

I'm not typically a mean teacher, but as my insta-rage took over those poor kids saw a different side of their English teacher. Within seconds Harry was hysterical in the hallway while the class was trying to wrap their heads around the event. I think this is when I received news that my co-teacher had abruptly gone on a business trip, meaning he would be absent, and more significantly meaning the cookies would be absent. 

I had to leave Harry crying in the hallway in order to deal with fifteen others about to cry in the classroom, then I had to tell them there were not going to be any cookies on cookie day.

"Teacha."...
"Teacha why?!"...
"Bad teacha."...
"A-dik teacha hate cookies."...
"Why you hate cookies teacha?"...

Yes I prefer salts over sweets but I do not hate cookies. No one tells me I hate cookies. Thank you for using English though.

At this point it's getting very uncomfortable inside the English room. Cookie Party Day involved no cookies, and consisted only of Youtube cartoons playing while every student angrily stared at me instead of the screen.

Eventually Harry returned under the agreement that he would apologize to the teacher and his classmates. He sat motionless at his desk while a few of the less violent students tried to force feed him chips. Harry loves food but his mouth wouldn't open. Every forced bite would just crumple on his closed lips and collect on the desk in front of him. This continued for the last ten minutes of class. Cookie Party Day ended, my second graders somberly left school, and I haven't seen them since.

Welp, next week should be fun.

 

This post is about a family. To protect their identity, well call them the "Stjernholms" and say they live near "Denver, Colorado."

You could say I have bad luck traveling with members of the Stjernholm family. Before I explain, I'll warn you this story might get rather lengthy. So if you don't want to hear about it, well, then I don't understand why you are still reading about it.

My first encounter with the Stjernholms was when though a man named Mike, pictured to the right. Mike Stjernholm is the one on top. He's been known to spontaneously break into fits of push ups or lunges, but would never hurt a fly.

Mike is affectionately known as "The Saint," and I met The Saint about 5 years ago while traveling. We went on a number of trips together that never went smoothly.

One time for example, Mike, myself, and three others decided to hike a mountain. Simple enough. We ended up detained by Malaysian immigration, and hours later Mike was inside a male flight attendant's house being pressured to join a local pornography ring. Without going into detail I'll just say that was the most normal part of the trip.

I learned many important things that trip, during our sleep deprived race to the top of Mt. Kinabalu. I learned the importance of planning mountain related activity, and I learned the importance of planning Stjernholm related activity.

When I learned Mike's brother, Matt, was also living in Korea, I knew I had to find him. Matt is a good friend, by which I mean I'd never met him before, but his last name enough convinced me the adventure would be worthwhile. 

So Matt and I got in touch, and began planning, something I'm terrible at. First we tried setting up a trip to Seoraksan National Park in northeastern Korea, but travel difficulties and a lack of vacation days killed the vision. Next, we failed a number of attempts to meet in larger cities, festivals, Et cetera. 

As months passed by,  it seemed I'd never meet Stjernholm version 2.0, until a few weekends opened up towards the end of September.

Matt came up with the good idea to head to Jirisan National Park, and four others agreed. Our group of six hikers was cut to five after a friend dropped out last minute. This friend starts every joke by saying "Ok everyone I have a joke to tell you. Are you ready. This is a joke." Maybe it's a good thing she couldn't make it. 

In order to traverse Jirisan, you need to sleep on the mountains and reserve cabin space exactly two weeks ahead of time. To the minute. 

At 10:00 a.m., two weeks in advance, the five of us logged onto the park website to make this happen. By 10:01 a.m., all of our computers were frozen and every single cabin had been booked. Man. Koreans are good at planning. I'm not. I may have mentioned that.

So yet again, Matt and I failed at meeting. I was ready to give up. Then I thought to myself, what would Mike Stjernholm do? Probably push ups. Or at least something related to not giving up. Ok, one more try.

The following week, again at exactly 10:00 a.m., we all met online and tried to find cabin space. This time we were on the Korean version of the website instead of the foreigner site. Not sure if it made a difference, but somehow  we snagged a reservation and the trip to Jirisan was on.

I told my mentor teacher, Kyu, about my plan to traverse the park, thinking he may have visited at some point.

After asking him if he was familiar with Jirisan, he replied "I know a little bit but not much." 

I probed to find out more:  "So a little bit, like you drove past it or know someone who went there?" Kyu said, "Well I been there about 15 times. Last time I went for five days by myself to decide whether or not to propose to my wife. Oh and I also should have died there one time. I almost fell off a cliff and slept in the rain because the cabin was full." 

You could say Kyu knows "a little bit" about Jirisan, and I was anxious to learn a little bit myself. But first I had to get there.

Our hike would be during "Chuseok", Korea's version of Thanksgiving, and while most Koreans don't travel much this particular weekend is a logistical travel nightmare. Still, I had two weeks to sort out the details and find a way to Suncheon, a town near Jirisan. All I had to do was make it to Suncheon by Saturday morning, easy task. Yeah not for me.

Knowing I would somehow struggle to find Suncheon, I began asking my school, every single day, to help me reserve a bus ticket. Every day they put it off, for almost a week and a half. With two days until Chuseok I still had no ticket, so I pestered a friend to navigate the Korean bus reservation website. Every bus to Suncheon was sold out through Saturday.

Defeated and facing the realization that I completely failed at meeting Stjernholm 2.0, I returned home and wrote a depressing email to Matt about my lack of transportation. He responded only with a blog about hitchhiking in Korea. What would Mike Stjernholm do? He might end up in a local pornography ring, but he wouldn't quit.

I began making signs to hold on the highway:


"I like your country please drive me somewhere"
"I NEED to get to Suncheon." 


The signs of course were in hangul, and "need" wasn't capitalized because Korean doesn't work that way. I made three or four versions of these signs and briefly considered buying a motorbike to drive to Jirisan myself, before falling asleep.

The next morning was the Thursday before our trip, and I bitterly informed my teachers all the bus tickets were sold out, and that my chance to see Jirisan was dismal. Their response was moving. 

All of the sudden, the same people who'd been ignoring me for weeks dropped all of their work and started helping me. There were three teachers on computers looking up every route to Jirisan possible while my Vice Principal was juggling schedules so I could take the next day off to travel. I think there were cell phone calls involved, and at one point our secretary mailed a package I'm assuming was related to helping me get to Jirisan.

The teacher-efforts resulted in a long shot route to Gwangyang, a city near Suncheon. I would have to wake up early on Friday and show up at an obscure no-reservation bus terminal in Daegu, 3 hours away, then wait in line hoping there was enough room for a final bus to Gwangyang.

A friend's birthday party had kept me out that Thursday night, and I woke up late Friday morning making it to Daegu hours after I should have. Armed with only a backpack and a piece of paper that looked like a treasure map, I found the obscure station. Luck was on my side for once, and I claimed one of the last seats for the two hour ride to Gwangyang. The aisles were lined with standing patrons who weren't so fortunate.

I met up with Matt and crashed in Gwangyang that night. Gwangyang is known for having a steel factory......moving along.

An early Saturday morning cab to "Gurye" on the west end of the park followed by a short bus ride put the five of us in the unlikely position of actually being inside Jirisan National Park. To make a very long story just moderately long, I'll summarize the days of hiking briefly.

Day 1: All of us underestimated the hike which ended up being about 6 hours and 15 kilometers. A nice couple gave me kimbap. The forecast for 0% chance of rain resulted in rain. Two people in our group were stranded after dark without headlamps. A woman gave us the chocolate bar pictured to the left.

Everyone finally made it to the Byeonksoryeong shelter somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 p.m., and after a quick meal lights were out within the hour.

Day 2: Kicked out of the shelter at 9 a.m., about 8.5 hours of hiking ensued over 17 km. By far the more difficult of the two days. The East side of the park is more beautiful and provides better views. Going downhill is overrated. I like grilled cheese sandwiches. The East face of Jirisan is also significantly steeper, if you ever hike across this park travel West to East. Two hikers from our crew took a shorter route home due to time restrictions. I am getting tired just thinking about this day.

To reach the summit it took 5 months of failed planning, 9 hours of traveling, and about 32 kilometers of hiking over 15 hours. But it was all worth it for the view from the top of Cheonwangbong peak.

Well not really, all we could see was clouds. Satisfying to reach the highest point of mainland South Korea nonetheless.  

...About Korea

                                                                  2. "Yangnyeom" Chicken.

Korean yangnyeom chicken is the best I've ever had. I'm not sure of the recipe, but It's made with a sauce. A very special sauce. If I had to wrestle someone in this sauce I would try to eat them.

                                                                             3. "Pae-dahl."

Thanks to "pae-dahl" you can get yangnyeom chicken delivered to you. Anywhere. Your house, a park, you know...the top of a mountain. Pae-dahl is basically this guy on a motorbike who will come after you with food. I'm not sure if it's always the same guy in all of Korea, but he absolutely will find you. I once saw a pae-dahl delivery man drive into the front door of a building, full speed on his motorbike. 

                                                                               4. Dr. Fish.

There are several "Dr.Fish" cafe's scattered throughout Korea. You order a drink, put your feet in a small fish tank, and let minnows eat away at dead skin. If you dipped your feet in "yangnyeum" chicken sauce I would gladly be one of the fish.

                                              5. Seoul is the plastic surgery capital of the world.

There's a popular cartoon in Korea about a small penguin who lives on an island. His name is Pororo. Recently, even Pororo got plastic and laser eye surgery.

It's more prevalent in the cities than the countryside, but appearance is highly regarded here. There is a very specific look many young people try to emulate, even if they have to pay money to achieve it. Make of it what you will, but in Pororo's case I think surgery was a good idea. I mean look at his before picture. I wouldn't. Just saying.

                                                          6. Sometimes couples dress the same.

I walked past a Korean man wearing a "Lebanon, Pennsylvania" tee shirt the other day. Before I could get a closer look I was distracted by a "Franklin & Marshall" sweater. As I approached the "F&M" guy, I saw 2 couples dressed identically from head to toe. Sadly this is not rare. Below is a mild case.

                                                                           7. K-Pop Music. 

Most of the world's exposure to K-pop is unfortunately through "Gangnam Style," but the rest of this genre is just as catchy. Half of me loves it, half of me hates it, and half of me can't do maths. I've tried everyday for the last month to not like the song below, and I can't do it. Gangnam Style is only the tip of the ridiculous iceberg.

                                                              8. I'm sorry about number 7.

    9. Korean Dramas.

Korean Dramas = Soap operas + Korea - 500 years. 
Wait, so: Soap operas = Korean Dramas + 500 years - Korea?
I'm confused. Just watch.

                                                                 10. Shape of Hangul letters.

For the last 4 years, Hangul was voted "the easiest character system to learn out of systems that look like they would be hard." King Sejong is to credit with the simple brilliance of Hangul, although his list of accomplishments extends far beyond the language. An adult could probably learn the characters in a few hours. 

While English letters sometimes seem arbitrarily shaped, every Hangul character has a reason for it's appearance. Some characters, for example, are shaped like the position the throat makes while pronouncing their sound.

I've been working on the alphabet with 1st graders for a few months. An adult can learn Hangul in a few hours. I'm going to conclude written Hangul is much easier than English, even if I have to compare adults to 1st graders.

                                                                         11. Church steeples.

Small Korean towns can look like Las Vegas thanks to fluorescent lights illuminating the buildings. Interestingly, even churches join the trend, with glowing red crosses perched above the skyline. I've heard this is due to the Korea war. Apparently planes wouldn't bomb churches, so buildings of worship identified themselves with the high glowing crosses, easily visible from the air.

This raises the question: Why wouldn't all important buildings simply put these crosses above them? And the answer: Why don't you stop over analyzing everything?

                                     12. Rock Paper Scissors solves every argument here.

I think this is the case in many Asian countries, and I also think North and South Korea will eventually solve their disputes through RPS. Anyone with this robot could take over the Korean peninsula.

                                                                   13. Teacher Point System.

If a teacher has ambitions to become a vice or head principal, they have to achieve their goal through a very regulated point system. Teachers get more points per year for teaching in rural areas, and are also limited to a certain amount of years at each particular school, before being forcibly transferred elsewhere. The philosophy behind this system is to prevent school dynamics from going stale.

I want to keep going but I just can't. I'm really busy. I have to go make fake ice cream cones for my classroom.