I have volunteered for a few things. Probably less than I should. Giving blood, working in a museum, given my time at fete stalls for a Nursing Home ...actually, they're all a bit bourgeoisie now that I look back upon that fragment of a list. Dammit.
Anyway, I feel like I can say that I have done something a bit bigger now, something on a more internationally-minded scale. If you didn't hear about this, you are either unconscious or completely (unintentionally) ignorant of the news like I usually am. Yesterday was voting day for South Korea and voting day is a public holiday, where people generally do nothing. Seriously, only about 50% of the country voted, too. Those lazy bastards rival the Spanish and their own siesta-lazy-habits. So, we decided to not be lazy and head down to one of the many beaches covered in oil to help with the clean-up. I got up at 5 am. Don't even. We got on a bizarrely-decorated bus of happy Christians, ate some strangly fake from-a-packet hotteok (those sugar-filled things I love from the street stalls), and I drank some new bus-sickness medicine. This little bottle of stuff knocked me quite clearly out, which was a good thing, but the fact that it contains caffeine and nicotine freaks me out. Just a wittle, aiight?! I'm already addicted to coffee, so there's no problem there, I just don't want to come home a chain-smoking McSmokey stab...face. SOoOoOo, after I regained consciousness in the freezing air that was breezing off the bay, we trundled over to pile of things sealed in plastic wrapping. From fabric gloves, to plastic gloves, to ponchos, to a breathing mask which let me not breathe at all, and an attractively charming thick plastic jumpsuit-style overalls with attached-to-the-leg-via-electrical-tape gum boots. Or is that gumboots? Or gum-boots? Oh man, we were teh hawtest bitchez outta town (we were in the country).
And then we cleaned. And cleaned. And cleaned. We scrubbed rocks 'til our fingers ached. I hunched over extremely disheartening puddles of thick, sticky oil, literally scooping up the gloppy mess onto the rags and random clothes donated for the cause, until the fabric was so sodden with filth, it was barely possible to tell whether you were mainly holding the rag or the oil. Keep in mind that we were there ten whole days after the actual oil spill, and of which this particular beach had been occupied by hard-working volunteers for all ten days. Sad, indeed. Especially to think that along the 30% of Western coastline affected, there are still countless beaches which have not yet been attacked. Grah, it makes me sick and angry. What an environmentalist I have become!! (NB: I will probably still drive my tank of a car back home. Sigh, such is the torn state of mind modernity brings upon those who clean oil spills and own tanks.)
We worked all day, and although no visible improvement could be beheld, it felt strangely satisfying. I can clearly see why people devote their lives to things like Greenpeace and other crazy bastard hippy organisations. And so we were touted as 'Heroes' on the ride back home and got hilariously drunk via the brilliant liquid that is Soju with the ajumma we always stay with (who is, if we haven't already mentioned a bajillion times, absolutely awesome great fun cool). We now call her 'Imo', which means 'Aunt', so basically we love her. Sarang Imo!
Gergh, how come I am running out of time!!! Sometimes I hate that I embellish my writing so. So, err, yes. Yesterday we walked around Dongdaemun markets, which is basically just a huge area full of different markets which specialise in different areas and such. I saw as many shoes as I will probably in one space at any one time, I ate Green Tea hotteok (which was rad) and Chrysanthemum bread filled with red bean, and we walked in on the most random out-of-the-back-of-a-car dodgy markets I have ever been to. Seriously, that place was filled with garden implements, jeans, old musical instruments, ancient TV sets (I'm talking 1950s or so), tapes (c'mon Korea, get out of the gorram 80s), knives, and, errrrr, 'adult toys'. Yeah, that was kind of creepy, because there were, like, five stalls in that tiny pavillion dedicated to those 'specialist products'. And they were creepily popular with old men. *Shiver*
Today we went to a student area! Best area yet! Woo!!! ^____^ I do heart student places so. We first went to a "park" (...it was a "park" as opposed to a park, because Korea is dodgy as hell and DOESN'T SUPPLY PARKS WITH GRASS. Seriously, Korea, don't try and cheat me like that again) that is famed for buskers, and we got an excellent comedy duo who sang hilarious songs (via furious translating by my very own automated Korean robot) on guitars and told people to piss off because they weren't clapping. Also, the dude started talking to me in English and as he was asking me where I was from, I completely didn't realise he was talking to me. I looked behind me instead. Good one. After that idiocy, I got a nice rendition of 'Unchained Melody', which is always a cool song to have sung to you. So we just wandered for the day, finding awesome shops (I bought Astro Boy earrings!), and a cool little cafe where everything was handmade (trinkets and food!) where we sat and drank tea and had a mini-selection of cheeses. So Western right now. Anyway, we ended up hanging around that area for ages, had dinner and a bottle of Soju, and then set off with plans for seeing the city lights and to ice-skate.
I DID NOT GET TO ICE-SKATE. >< >< >< NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Lame x 46.
Damn you population problem. Anyway, the city lights were absolutely stunning, particularly because they follow a little stream that runs through the city centre, and I got strawberries covered in red toffee on a stick. So awesomely delicious, you ain't never tried something as fine.
STRAWBEWWY WUV!!! ^____^ v
NB: I'm postin' some photos up roight now! 68 to be exactle!
Saturday, 22 December 2007
I'm not sure what you've heard on the news.
There was an oil spill on the west coast of Korea. The damage was catastrophic. Entire communities were robbed of their livelihood, a catastrophic event that is always more serious than anybody is able to comprehend. They think it'll be 10 years until all these fishing areas will be back to pre-spill levels.
BUT THEN MIA AND I ARRIVED.
And it was still just as bad as before. I spent 6 hours cleaning rocks goddamn it, why won't you go away Oil?
It was presidential election day, electing some douche named Lee Myung Bak, which meant it was a national holiday for all. The (awesome, awesome, AWESOME) lady we're staying with told us that we were going to go to a temple that's only reachable by boat, but BAM a different teacher offers to take us to clean rocks and OFF WE GO.
Volunteer work > Fun > The concept of us being on holiday.
It took about 2 hours by bus, and were one of thousands of volunteers there to try and such up the Oil with cloth. It seems so goddamn futile. Oil washes up constantly as you go to spots that people have already cleaned before. There's still a cm or two of oil layered on top of rocks in spots. Scientists are saying that years worth of clean up have been done in weeks. I have so much respect for the volunteers who are going in day after day. I guess a conscription army is useful for something. The smell of the crude oil is so strong that it's making people sick, and some people are in there, cleaning, day after day.
Dongdaemun market, a huge clothing market at one end of Seoul, was similarly awe-worthy but not as depressing. It seriously never seems to end, with giant buildings full of similar clothes stores as far as the eye can see. I wish that I was exaggerating. I got an awesome watch for 5000 won, which is about 7 bucks, but the battery is dead already -_-. We looked for clothes, but we didn't see that much. Mia got a TOTORO sweater, and I got some cons with stars on them, which makes us both officially consumer whores. Good times. We ended up watching Children of Men in the DVD room because of a vague recommendation of Sam's ringing in my ears and thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed it. Great times.
After watching National Treasure 2 today (please forgive me, oh filmsoc gods, my uncle had the power to choose since he was buying tickets), Mia and I woefully failed at DDR. Oh man, we are so freakin terrible. I was suprised that a crowd didn't gather to watch us suck so goddamn hard. Like a golfball through a garden hose. We played a game that was very similar to Wario Ware, which was welcome despite me losing, and then I got lapped twice by Mia at Daytona. There seems to be a running theme here.
We headed to Daehagno, a very cool area with an odd history. It was the location of Seoul University, the most prestigious university in Korea, before they realised that they could sell the prime real estate they were on and move to much swankier facilities on the outskirts of Seoul. Instead of the surrounding Uni student catering area shutting down, the land that was once a campus has become a thriving youthy place, pulsing with youthiness. No joke. Marronier Park has an Art Gallery and Theatre attatched, and there seem to be about a hundred little theatres in the area, all pimping different stage productions. Little cafe's are hidden away with coffee that I can drink ( :o ) as well as little stores in which to by RADSOME things. The food was suprisingly dissapointing, with nothing engaging to offer, but we are picky, picky fools.
Marronier Park is a bit of a busking centre, but I was a little dissapointed today. Maybe it was because it's winter, but we only spied two groups. Two dudes playing Guitar were absolutely hilarious, yelling at kids, making jokes about how Koreans are too conscious of each other and insisting that some local crazy dude was Japanese to a foreigner while belting out old favourites from the 70s was well worth coming to the area for, while we only heard a couple of songs from a hip-hop trio calling themselves the snow brothers. It was dark, and they had managed to gather themselves a pretty good crowd, bantering while setting up and generally providing a lot of laughter and warmth. I think my favourite area in Seoul so far.
We ended up cooking some Bul-go-gi on a hotplate in front of us, while sharing a bottle of Soju ( You will all be drinking Soju with us once we get back. It's just way too much fun ) then walking through the city looking at the gorgeous and huge lights that have been set up for Christmas. LOOK AT THE PHOTOS. (there's one of me looking mighty ninja) There was some tart singing too, but we didn't really stay around for that. We kept walking all the way to another market and strolled through it as it was closing down. Hopefully we'll get to hit it tomorrow morning. Apparently my cousin wants to buy me food from Outback Steakhouse. He thinks its funny. Lets hope it doesn't actually happen.
I hope the holiday season is treating you all well! I hope you're all seeing each other and constantly telling each other how much you love each other. Also: I hope you haven't died from the awesomeness of seeing Amanda Palmer or whoever else fabulous is in Sydney these days. We have presents for you. And some of you have my concert tickets.
Regardless, Love!
BUT THEN MIA AND I ARRIVED.
And it was still just as bad as before. I spent 6 hours cleaning rocks goddamn it, why won't you go away Oil?
It was presidential election day, electing some douche named Lee Myung Bak, which meant it was a national holiday for all. The (awesome, awesome, AWESOME) lady we're staying with told us that we were going to go to a temple that's only reachable by boat, but BAM a different teacher offers to take us to clean rocks and OFF WE GO.
Volunteer work > Fun > The concept of us being on holiday.
It took about 2 hours by bus, and were one of thousands of volunteers there to try and such up the Oil with cloth. It seems so goddamn futile. Oil washes up constantly as you go to spots that people have already cleaned before. There's still a cm or two of oil layered on top of rocks in spots. Scientists are saying that years worth of clean up have been done in weeks. I have so much respect for the volunteers who are going in day after day. I guess a conscription army is useful for something. The smell of the crude oil is so strong that it's making people sick, and some people are in there, cleaning, day after day.
Dongdaemun market, a huge clothing market at one end of Seoul, was similarly awe-worthy but not as depressing. It seriously never seems to end, with giant buildings full of similar clothes stores as far as the eye can see. I wish that I was exaggerating. I got an awesome watch for 5000 won, which is about 7 bucks, but the battery is dead already -_-. We looked for clothes, but we didn't see that much. Mia got a TOTORO sweater, and I got some cons with stars on them, which makes us both officially consumer whores. Good times. We ended up watching Children of Men in the DVD room because of a vague recommendation of Sam's ringing in my ears and thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed it. Great times.
After watching National Treasure 2 today (please forgive me, oh filmsoc gods, my uncle had the power to choose since he was buying tickets), Mia and I woefully failed at DDR. Oh man, we are so freakin terrible. I was suprised that a crowd didn't gather to watch us suck so goddamn hard. Like a golfball through a garden hose. We played a game that was very similar to Wario Ware, which was welcome despite me losing, and then I got lapped twice by Mia at Daytona. There seems to be a running theme here.
We headed to Daehagno, a very cool area with an odd history. It was the location of Seoul University, the most prestigious university in Korea, before they realised that they could sell the prime real estate they were on and move to much swankier facilities on the outskirts of Seoul. Instead of the surrounding Uni student catering area shutting down, the land that was once a campus has become a thriving youthy place, pulsing with youthiness. No joke. Marronier Park has an Art Gallery and Theatre attatched, and there seem to be about a hundred little theatres in the area, all pimping different stage productions. Little cafe's are hidden away with coffee that I can drink ( :o ) as well as little stores in which to by RADSOME things. The food was suprisingly dissapointing, with nothing engaging to offer, but we are picky, picky fools.
Marronier Park is a bit of a busking centre, but I was a little dissapointed today. Maybe it was because it's winter, but we only spied two groups. Two dudes playing Guitar were absolutely hilarious, yelling at kids, making jokes about how Koreans are too conscious of each other and insisting that some local crazy dude was Japanese to a foreigner while belting out old favourites from the 70s was well worth coming to the area for, while we only heard a couple of songs from a hip-hop trio calling themselves the snow brothers. It was dark, and they had managed to gather themselves a pretty good crowd, bantering while setting up and generally providing a lot of laughter and warmth. I think my favourite area in Seoul so far.
We ended up cooking some Bul-go-gi on a hotplate in front of us, while sharing a bottle of Soju ( You will all be drinking Soju with us once we get back. It's just way too much fun ) then walking through the city looking at the gorgeous and huge lights that have been set up for Christmas. LOOK AT THE PHOTOS. (there's one of me looking mighty ninja) There was some tart singing too, but we didn't really stay around for that. We kept walking all the way to another market and strolled through it as it was closing down. Hopefully we'll get to hit it tomorrow morning. Apparently my cousin wants to buy me food from Outback Steakhouse. He thinks its funny. Lets hope it doesn't actually happen.
I hope the holiday season is treating you all well! I hope you're all seeing each other and constantly telling each other how much you love each other. Also: I hope you haven't died from the awesomeness of seeing Amanda Palmer or whoever else fabulous is in Sydney these days. We have presents for you. And some of you have my concert tickets.
Regardless, Love!
Monday, 17 December 2007
Kerrayzee Koreanz
I climbed a Mountain. Capital.
Booyah! I expect applause...I'm still waiting.
Those who have fear of heights, heart conditions, or are under 16 should not climb mountains. I guess neither should the infirm, something you probably would have described me yesterday. I went to bed the night before, stuffy head, body aching, and attractively blowing my nose every three seconds. Way hot. The night was spent shifting and sneezing and feeling as if I were awake for the entire night (I wasn't), listening to the woman outside my room flick through a textbook and study all through the night for a test the next day. She was pretty cool. Well, she's the wife of a Mountain Pimp, so I guess you've got to be somewhat awesome if your husband has scaled something like 200 mountains.
I digress.
I awoke. Sunlight. Eye burn, Bride of Dracula stylez. Felt average to awful, but was determined that I was to not sit out the scalement of a mountain. Some would say I am "obstinate". I would prefer "determined" but...eh, they would probably be right. Shower. Consciousness. Dress. Shoved the Pocahontas furry-band (not Pocahontas-furry) that the Pimp bought yesterday, of which he also purchased for us gloves and a hat for Mintie that made him look like a paedophile (I am not even joking...way scary), into my pocket. Took a massive wad of tissues. Sneeze.
We got on a bus, and waited at a station for a group of old men to turn up. Waited in the goddamn cold for half-an-hour with the mountain set to be conquered hovering above the skyline behind us. Too many apartments.
My thoughts exactly: Mountain. I will conquer you. I'll take you out for a meal with Mr. and Mrs. Pain. Order up some violent quiche. You want some? Delivered by First Post. The post which hurts the most.
Leg freeze. Undo by walking through slums at the base of the beast. Dogs bark. Tunnel. Concrete path. Upwards.
Oh man. That mountain rained down the pain. It was stunning. It was breath-snatchingly beautiful. But it nearly killed me. It probably would have helped if I had of taken medicine, and had shoes that wouldn't prompt fellow mountain-climbers to exclaim how slippery they would be via various hand-gestures pattered with Konglish. Barely being able to take in oxygen = not so cool. But I made it. I scrabbled over rocks, hang off trees and untrustworthy handrails, and realised how flexible, strong, and how much stamina I truly have. It's nice to realise that we can all be beyond the selves we know. It's amazing that after I almost fainted at the first 100 metre ascent, I managed to climb another 625 more. Imagine that. Having no knowledge of time = helpful! Also: coming down = harder than you would think, and hell on the joints. Oh God. I sound, like, 97. I ache today. I think I need arthritis tablets or something.
No words can describe it. Pictures do almost as little justice. I can see how something like this would be so addictive. The pure adrenaline as you reach the climax of the mountain makes your hands shake and your heart race as you look down at the sheerness of that which has been past many hours before. That didn't stop a 50-something-year-old man doing a gorram freakin' handstand on top of the rock we reached. Please don't do that Mr. Halabuhji (Grandpa). I really don't need to worry about another person up here.
What I won't forget, though, is the gorgeous snow-topped boulders, the wandering leaf-covered stone stairways, and the Buddhist Temples dotted the way through the Mountain. It's beauty succumbs almost to that of the spiritual and if I was not slowly dying I am quite sure I would have converted to Mountainism during my climb.
Correction: Apparently it was two mountains.
Booyah! I expect applause...I'm still waiting.
Those who have fear of heights, heart conditions, or are under 16 should not climb mountains. I guess neither should the infirm, something you probably would have described me yesterday. I went to bed the night before, stuffy head, body aching, and attractively blowing my nose every three seconds. Way hot. The night was spent shifting and sneezing and feeling as if I were awake for the entire night (I wasn't), listening to the woman outside my room flick through a textbook and study all through the night for a test the next day. She was pretty cool. Well, she's the wife of a Mountain Pimp, so I guess you've got to be somewhat awesome if your husband has scaled something like 200 mountains.
I digress.
I awoke. Sunlight. Eye burn, Bride of Dracula stylez. Felt average to awful, but was determined that I was to not sit out the scalement of a mountain. Some would say I am "obstinate". I would prefer "determined" but...eh, they would probably be right. Shower. Consciousness. Dress. Shoved the Pocahontas furry-band (not Pocahontas-furry) that the Pimp bought yesterday, of which he also purchased for us gloves and a hat for Mintie that made him look like a paedophile (I am not even joking...way scary), into my pocket. Took a massive wad of tissues. Sneeze.
We got on a bus, and waited at a station for a group of old men to turn up. Waited in the goddamn cold for half-an-hour with the mountain set to be conquered hovering above the skyline behind us. Too many apartments.
My thoughts exactly: Mountain. I will conquer you. I'll take you out for a meal with Mr. and Mrs. Pain. Order up some violent quiche. You want some? Delivered by First Post. The post which hurts the most.
Leg freeze. Undo by walking through slums at the base of the beast. Dogs bark. Tunnel. Concrete path. Upwards.
Oh man. That mountain rained down the pain. It was stunning. It was breath-snatchingly beautiful. But it nearly killed me. It probably would have helped if I had of taken medicine, and had shoes that wouldn't prompt fellow mountain-climbers to exclaim how slippery they would be via various hand-gestures pattered with Konglish. Barely being able to take in oxygen = not so cool. But I made it. I scrabbled over rocks, hang off trees and untrustworthy handrails, and realised how flexible, strong, and how much stamina I truly have. It's nice to realise that we can all be beyond the selves we know. It's amazing that after I almost fainted at the first 100 metre ascent, I managed to climb another 625 more. Imagine that. Having no knowledge of time = helpful! Also: coming down = harder than you would think, and hell on the joints. Oh God. I sound, like, 97. I ache today. I think I need arthritis tablets or something.
No words can describe it. Pictures do almost as little justice. I can see how something like this would be so addictive. The pure adrenaline as you reach the climax of the mountain makes your hands shake and your heart race as you look down at the sheerness of that which has been past many hours before. That didn't stop a 50-something-year-old man doing a gorram freakin' handstand on top of the rock we reached. Please don't do that Mr. Halabuhji (Grandpa). I really don't need to worry about another person up here.
What I won't forget, though, is the gorgeous snow-topped boulders, the wandering leaf-covered stone stairways, and the Buddhist Temples dotted the way through the Mountain. It's beauty succumbs almost to that of the spiritual and if I was not slowly dying I am quite sure I would have converted to Mountainism during my climb.
Correction: Apparently it was two mountains.
It was 725 metres high. It sounds a lot more impressive if you say 2400 feet
I was so excited to be going up a mountain. I remembered scaling mountains as a child, jumping from rocks and shimmying down poles as being fantastic fun. I'd run circles around my parents and their friends, both literally and figuratively, in the awesome atmosphere of a winter mountain.
Goddamn it, I must have been an annoyingly exuberant child. Climbing mountains is hard as shit.
Seriously, when we started walking up the mountain I thought "man, it's not going to be this steep the whole way is it?", considering how steep the incline was. Then the paved bit ended, and we were going up rough wooden steps. Then rough stone steps. Then just... goddamn rocks. And then we were having to climb freakin boulders with the help of a handrail. Or navigate around boulders with a rope. Or just have to magic ourselves around really difficult situations.
After 3 hours of that bullshit, we get to the top, and there's... what? a rock?
It was awesome.
My dads friend is part of a big rock-climbing group called "Blue Mountain". None of them really know why it was named that, but they want to make a trip to Sydney and see them one day. They're are all super-pros at climbing mountains, considering that they climb these giant difficult things at least once or twice a month. My dad's friend reckoned that he'd climbed 200 in his life, some outside Korea like Mt Fuji.
But the pro's decided it was too dangerous to bother going up to the top of the mountain today, and opted to go to a valley behind it instead. My dad's friend decided that if we had come from Australia to climb the mountain, then we were damn well seeing the top.
It was so goddamn scary grappling over rockfaces with only a hand rail and unsure footing to rely on. When I looked down, it dropped right down to ground level. The 18 storey high deathboxes looked like the toys of ants. My dad has sadistic friends.
The thing about describing this is that all the pro's are so difficult to pin down, while the con's are numerous. There's something special about putting yourself through toil for leisure by climbing mountains. There's pain there, to be sure, but if you revel in it, it gives you time to reflect on yourself. It's a testing of your limits, your confidence and your trust in your own body.
Like I said, it's hard to describe. There's also the scenery, which is just as hard to describe. The photos do it no justice at all, but are beautiful nontheless. I guess it seems more beautiful when you've had to earn it inch by inch, and have it hit you when you finally look up from the ground.
Meanwhile, the grandpas who do this regularly have a ball, looking happy to be bounding from rock to rock, even taking photos with Mia and singing as they toil their way down. There's a saying in Korea, there are no bad men amongst those who climb mountains, and it's persuasive. They all seem so calm and peaceful. Good bunch, the lot of them.
That was my deep, insightful mountain climbing experience. I hope you're all well.
Goddamn it, I must have been an annoyingly exuberant child. Climbing mountains is hard as shit.
Seriously, when we started walking up the mountain I thought "man, it's not going to be this steep the whole way is it?", considering how steep the incline was. Then the paved bit ended, and we were going up rough wooden steps. Then rough stone steps. Then just... goddamn rocks. And then we were having to climb freakin boulders with the help of a handrail. Or navigate around boulders with a rope. Or just have to magic ourselves around really difficult situations.
After 3 hours of that bullshit, we get to the top, and there's... what? a rock?
It was awesome.
My dads friend is part of a big rock-climbing group called "Blue Mountain". None of them really know why it was named that, but they want to make a trip to Sydney and see them one day. They're are all super-pros at climbing mountains, considering that they climb these giant difficult things at least once or twice a month. My dad's friend reckoned that he'd climbed 200 in his life, some outside Korea like Mt Fuji.
But the pro's decided it was too dangerous to bother going up to the top of the mountain today, and opted to go to a valley behind it instead. My dad's friend decided that if we had come from Australia to climb the mountain, then we were damn well seeing the top.
It was so goddamn scary grappling over rockfaces with only a hand rail and unsure footing to rely on. When I looked down, it dropped right down to ground level. The 18 storey high deathboxes looked like the toys of ants. My dad has sadistic friends.
The thing about describing this is that all the pro's are so difficult to pin down, while the con's are numerous. There's something special about putting yourself through toil for leisure by climbing mountains. There's pain there, to be sure, but if you revel in it, it gives you time to reflect on yourself. It's a testing of your limits, your confidence and your trust in your own body.
Like I said, it's hard to describe. There's also the scenery, which is just as hard to describe. The photos do it no justice at all, but are beautiful nontheless. I guess it seems more beautiful when you've had to earn it inch by inch, and have it hit you when you finally look up from the ground.
Meanwhile, the grandpas who do this regularly have a ball, looking happy to be bounding from rock to rock, even taking photos with Mia and singing as they toil their way down. There's a saying in Korea, there are no bad men amongst those who climb mountains, and it's persuasive. They all seem so calm and peaceful. Good bunch, the lot of them.
That was my deep, insightful mountain climbing experience. I hope you're all well.
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