Out of the woodwork . . .

NOTE:  This blog may contain Too Much Information (TMI), depending on you.  To others this may be fairly entertaining.  Now that I have your undivided attention I shall continue J

So this park . . . k well I was strolling along close to where this public pool is supposed to be (I probably walked right past it but didn’t know ‘cause I can’t read a dang thing over here) and I found this walking path.  Hey, well, I like to walk so I just followed the sucker for a while.  Next thing I know I’m following this path along a gulch.  This was a nice change from the car and scooter dodging I mentioned in the last post.  Part of the beauty of the path is that it is made from the same cushy material school running tracks are made of.  Rad.

I’ve noticed that only older people hike in Korea.  Older people and kids who play in the streams to keep themselves entertained because their parents or grandparents dragged them out to go hiking.  

At the end of this gulch I found this park where people were milling about, children were playing everywhere, and old folks were just relaxing.  A small  reservoir akin to the ones at Mt. Tabor provided the water source for this gulch.  Just on the other side are these huge metal sculptures of waves.  On the other end of the park is a huge cement ampitheater.  “Why always with the cement here?”  This was on the other side of this road that headed further into the park.  OOoooooh where does this go?  This road went directly into the heart of one of the coolest parks I’ve ever experienced.  There are miles of heavily wooded trails meandering through the hillside.  There is a rather large stream that flows through the center.  There are Buddhist temples that speckle the forest, and lots of people.  People are taking a break next to the stream, sleeping on picnic benches, taking a break underneath these gazebo-type structures (that have a Korean twist to them of course),  walking on the trails, walking in the street, and are working out at the “physical park.”  Yes at the end of the road there is a “physical park” where people can hoola-hoop, do pull-ups, there are benches are designed for sit-ups, benches designed for push-ups, all sorts of rings for pulling and pushing, and there is even a water fountain complete with cups to drink from.  Eureka!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I just found heaven.  This morning I was thinking about how city-arrific this place is.  I was thinking about how much longer it was going to be before I had a meltdown from being surrounded by too much cement, cars, scooters, and people.  But this place has just cured me from any worry.  There are miles and miles of trails to be ran; workouts to be had; hours to be spent by the stream reading, relaxing, and talking to my new friends.  And thankfully there are bathrooms.  This bit of information would have come in real handy earlier in the day . . .

 

I have not been regular here.  Not in the least bit.  Traveling does a number on my system.  The lack of sleep, the nervous tension of wondering if things are going to work out, the crazy change in diet, and lack of working out.  Yes I am excited for the day things return to normal . . . whenever that may be.  Ok so I started my wandering today with a rather large, spendy cup of coffee from the Bucks.  (Real quick on a side note:  I did find that they do sell a reasonably priced French Press so I’ll be buying one of those soon enough!!!!!)  Ok so I drink this huge cup of coffee.  I find this trail and get excited.  I begin to walk faster and faster.  I’m going uphill faster and faster.  I’m so excited to find a place where I don’t have to be doing any intense urban running (I’ll explain that later.)  All of the sudden my stomach turns.  Oh shit (no pun intended)!  Um I have no idea where I am nor have any knowledge of any bathrooms.  There are loads of people everywhere.  I can’t just walk off the side of the trail a short ways ‘cause there may be people there too.  So I begin to sweat more than I already am (humidity generally ranges from 80-95% here and its still about 85˚).  I’m unable to walk fast.  “Houston we have a problem.”  Oh man Tom Hanks where are you to save me.  Batman, Superman, Ironman, I don’t care who you are just give me a hand . . . or some tp.  This woman toting a hiking stick and a bright pink sleeveless capeline shirt passes me.  Thankfully I remembered to bring my pocket phrase book.  To get her attention I say to her “Anonghaseyo,” as I reach for my trusty book.  I fumbled through the book looking for that sweet, sweet phrase, “Where are the bathrooms?”  My hands were trembling and drips of sweat where creating damp circles on the pages of my book.  I still didn’t find the phrase when I looked up and all I could see was the bright pink shirt walking away from me.  “Um, excuse me . . . this is urgent,” as if she could understand me now.  Like the panicked, sick look on my face and clear, fast English was going to make her turn around.  She turned the corner and was gone as fast as she appeared.  I’ve noticed that either Koreans act only in two ways towards me:  They either want nothing to do with you even if you directly engage with them; or they are the most generous, most helpful people in the world.  I experienced both sides of this spectrum today.  She clearly was of the unhelpful camp. 

 

Oh man its serious now.  I’m approaching critical mass.  I’m having massive stomach pains.  I look into the bushes for a place to go.  Oh I think I found one!  Wait, what the hell . . . is that a tent?  Are people camping here?  Does this really surprise me by now?  Jeez.  I keep walking, slowly.  I can’t make it back.  There is no way.  Another man is coming.  I contemplated just shitting on the trail.  I’m going to be seen anyways.  He disappears.  I’m at a place now where I think I can walk deep into the woods and not be seen.  Okay I’m making a break for it.  1 . . 2 . . 3 . . GO!  I’m off crunching small sticks, walking through the most thick, intense cobwebs I’ve ever known.  How are the spiders here?  I don’t know, poisonous?  I hope not ‘cause I gotta take a shit.  The bushes were thick.  Small thorns that apparently grow on vines were digging into my legs and hands as I tried to free myself from them.  Who is watching this by the way?  I thought for sure an old couple were watching me struggle off the beaten path in a frenzy.  But I didn’t care.  I keep pushing my way through countless cobwebs, which are now hanging from my unshaven chin.  I’m bleeding.  I’m in pain.  So I do my thing.  I keep my head down, just in case someone is watching.  I don’t want to know.  When I return to the trail I have sticks and leaves hanging from me.  I’m dripping with sweat.  My legs, arms, and hands all have small trickles of blood.  I feel sooo relieved but totally ridiculous. 

I’ve noticed that most Koreans don’t sweat a whole lot.  Nor do they drink the amount of water I do.  I drink the stuff constantly to keep from passing out.  One teacher at school even remarked to me “Do you always drink that much water?”  I just filled up my Nalgene for the third time at the water cooler in the teachers’ main office.  I think they just have efficient bodies for this part of the world.  Maybe I don't know  . . . k

So I'm sweaty, covered in blood, and look like I've been rolling around in the bushes for some time.  I start heading for home 'cause now I want a shower.  I find the stream to wash my hands.  Then I find this Buddhist temple?!  Wha?  En Serio?  Wow this park is pretty cool.  I walk around it briefly and head for home.  Just beyond the temple I find these elusive bathrooms.  Not only are they the CLEANEST public bathrooms I've ever seen here but they also have these cool stalls where you just pop-a-squat and hover.  They are these ceramic u-shaped holes in the ground where you do your business.  And did I mention these bathrooms were clean?  Man someone is laughing at me somewhere . . . Okay so THAT episode won't happen again.  I continue walking down the path and this man with glasses approaches me.  I don't remember how we began talking.  It was something like, "Excuse me are you having a good day?"  or something really kind like that.  We began talking and I spent the next hour with him chatting.   I asked him some cultural questions that I've been wondering about since arriving.  Like "Why do some people wear particle filters over their mouths?  Is the air here really that bad?"  He doesn't think so and some people are just paranoid or he still has yet to figure it out.  I asked him questions about where to find a guitar and some other things.  Turns out he studied in the states for ten years.  Taewan Kim (or Dave) got his masters at University of Colorado in Boulder and got his PHD in International Relations in DC.  The guy is really cool and laid back.  He's married and has three really adorable kids.  He lives remarkably close to me as well.  He invited me over for dinner.  (Insert the last blog here.)  

When I see Dave he's worried because he had just gotten into a big fight/discussion with this wife because he invited me over for an inpromptu dinner.  He had told her that I am a cook and this made her worry.  I suggested that I buy something for dinner.  I bought ice cream and a Frappachino as per Dave's suggestion as a token of good will for her troubles.  "This will be nothing special," he kept telling me.  "I'd rather it be that way," I told him.  I was sooo exited to be trying a typical home cooked Korean meal and I've only been here for less than three weeks!  I tried lotus root (which looks like brown wagon wheel pasta), small crispy sardines (which are apparently high in calcium), fried spam (Hawaii and Korea love Spam; I have no idea why), marinated potatoes, steamed rice, and . . . I LIKED THE KIMCHI!!!!!   Usually its made with this rancid fish sauce stuff which is the nar nar.  But his stuff was void of any rancid fishiness.  Yay!   After going to his house for dinner with his family I feel like I've known him for a while now already.  We hit it off well and his family is really warm and welcoming.  His wife was still a little put off do to the suddenness of it all.    After dinner Dave told me some of the finer intricacies about tea as we ate fresh pears and apples.  He tells me black tea wasn't around until the English brought tea from China to England on their boats.  During the long journey the tea fermented and turned black.  Also he said that most tea comes from the same leaf, there are just different variations.  There are the raw, half fermented, and the (really) fermented leaves.  We had some of the half fermented leaves some of his university students brought from China.  It was delicioso.   Dave ended the night by taking his daughter to buy her a new Nintendo DS.  Funny enough cause I tried to buy one at McDonalds last Friday night.  

I had had a few drinks and Dave, Lindsay and I were in the mood for late night eats.  Mickey D's here is open 24/7.  I still hate to support them but when I've got the urge for late night eats and something familiar they do the trick quite nicely.  They had some kind of promotion for cheap Nintendo DS's and I thought I could buy one there.  Dave's kind of sold me on them . . . its the Mario Kart and the free endless games you can apparently download from the net onto you system.  So, to Dave's suggestion I asked for one.  "They're cheap here man you should get one!"  "I'd like a Spicy chicken combo meal and a Nintendo DS please."  The girl behind the counter just shook her head.  She crossed her fingers to make an 'x.'  "We no sell here."  She said.  dangit.  Maybe next time.

Oh so the uber urban running.  Yeah dangerous.  I don't recommend it to the kiddies.  Its fun though.  But I'm just worried about being nailed by a bus, taxi, scooter, or running over anyone myself.  The streets and sidewalks often have potholes or are really uneven.  People just do their own thing milling about.  No one is watching out for me.  So I have to take to the streets a lot.  People stare even with more intensity.  I don't dare run across streets with out the signal.  I tried that once and almost got nailed by two speeding scooters one after another.  Sometimes I feel like Jerry Rice running through the neighborhoods of Haeundae.  Except I'm not as cool as Jerry Rice and not nearly as fast as Jerry Rice.  But hey . . . whatevs.  I want to attach a camera to my forehead and make a video of this.  I think it would be fairly entertaining, especially if I played it back at four times the speed.  It would be like those cool bike messenger videos of New York or San Francisco.  Those are sweet BTW,  those videos.  If you like biking in any way check one out on You Tube.  Those fools are crazy, makes me feel like a sissy in Portland.