INTERSTICE part II: Temporary Apartment

My temporary apartment was kind of cool. It was spacious, even more spacious than my older place. At this point you can understand I was quite curious as to how my then-soon-forthcoming apartment would compare size-wise.

But anyway, this building's layout was interesting- every apartment, on the same wall as the door to the hallway, had a window you can open; thankfully it had iron bars too, to prevent "bad guys" from doing "bad things." Not that this is a huge issue though, since the crime rate is miniscule compared to other countries I've lived in. Hem hem, as Miss Dolores C. Umbridge would say.

So anyway if you open the window, your room's now opened to the outer hall. Some random people leave theirs open, which is nice. Cause when you walk through the halls, and see this room and that room with their window open, it just gives the place a more open community feel, kinda like in a college dormitory. I like it.

In fact, if I go back home to the US and become a Hall Director at a college (likely), then I will market the idea for this kind of window to be installed into the college dorms. It just makes the whole living environment seem more open, friendly and communal, which would be a constructive force for little freshman dummies trying to make friends in the "new environment they're adjusting to." Plus, me being the one to bring the college the idea, maybe they'll build a statue of me so future generations can appreciate my positive influence on promoting social growth. Which I'm all about (the statue and the social growth).

Now, the bathroom in this apartment was hella small. But believe me, I really don't mind small spaces in general. You should have seen my RA room my junior year of college. That year for some reason they gave me, the humble co-leader of the floor (a dorm floor co-led by another certain currently-Korea-inhabiting Crony DiTraglia Civilian), a room smaller than almost all of the freshman residents I held sovereignty over. Isn't that fucked up? Yeah, it is. But my point is that I didn't mind the smallness. Really.

But I was in for a surprise when I investigated this bathroom. Here's a photo:

So here you see the toilet, mirror and shower. But on either side, at the direct right and left edges of the frame of this picture, are walls.

So it's small. But it is, as of yet in the timeframe of this bloggitive narrative, missing an essential component to a bathroom.

Where is the door to the shower?

But actually, nothing is missing. For you see, the entirety of the picture you see here is, also, the shower. Yeah. See that white hose, which hooks around back into the sink? That's the showerhead. So on the sink, theres a little knob you press in or pull out. When you do, the water is diverted from the sink faucet, and comes out of that shower nozzle instead.

So you get into the bathroom, shut the door, and there you are in the shower, complete with toilet, sink, and all your hygenic supplies at your immediate disposal.

It was funny, because the first time I took a shower here I had to manually maneuver the showerhead all over my body to spray/rinse, like they do in old 1930s cartoons with a shower cap or whatever. It was only later when I humbly realized there was a little slot up on the wall that you can insert the showerhead into. This made the water shoot out from a stationary position, therefore freeing both of your hands.

Of course in this mode, the water splashes off you more, which gets the sink and toilet wetter. But by this point, if one is taking a shower and cares about this kind of thing, said person is in the wrong country.

After I got home from the long first day of training, I went to the bathroom with the intention of taking my contact lenses out. I turned on the faucet, and was greeted with a cold-ass burst of water on my left shoulder. And I was still in my work clothes!! I had left the switch on shower mode and had left the showerhead up on its notch near the top, where it remained since my previous shower session, pointed directly at my humble self.

So yeah, this kind of shower is a Korean thing and I've encountered variants of it in the past. For example, I stayed in a hotel place on a work trip and it had a more traditional shower, except that it did not have a shower curtain (intentionally). Apparently, even with a traditional shower shape, Koreans like to take showers and have water splash everyfuckingwhere, over stuff that's not directly involved with the shower!

Also, even my old apartment's shower, while it did have a glass 'stall' partition, there was no barrier on the ground to prevent the water from flowing onto the rest of the bathroom's floor.

But all of these kinds of bathrooms have drains in the appropriate places, so there's never water just chillen where it shouldn't for extended periods of time. I think someone told me that all this free-roaming water tomfoolery's purpose is to make a dent, so to speak, in the amount of time one needs to spend cleaning the floor in a traditional manner. The entire-bathroom-is-also-the-shower model optimizes this feature.

But ultimately, does everything getting wet all the damn time outweigh said convenience? Koreans would say no. I think I would too.

INTERSTICE part I

"INTERSTICE" is the speacial featurette that comes after the gap after the end of Up, You Idiots: Season One, and leads directly into Up, You Idiots: Season Two.

So there I was in my temporary housing for my new job. I was up on the 15th floor. This area was not that far from where I used to live. Only a couple of subway stops actually.

I was there training at this school/company's main branch, in Seoul. But after my Monday thru Wednesday training, I moved to a metropolitain outer-city area, the location of the branch of my company that I will be working at.





















Look at the view from this puppy. Here you can see a large winding highway up on stilts, which looks AMAZING at night. below it is a large (sand?) soccer field, similar to the ones you see in TV/movies as cliche shots of latino neighborhoods. Closer to us is a small playgroundy thing.



But pan a bit to the right and you really get down to business:




Here, you see a kid's wonderland, an immense public park. There are lots of walkways, grassy areas, tennis courts, and what appears to be some kind of playground designed as mini village with roads for kids.

But the messed up part of this is, if you look beyond it toward the background, you see what appears to be some complex technical equipment. I was later informed by one of the other teachers that this lovely park was built over some kind of complex plant. I forget excactly what for though- it's either a chemical plant or the kind of place where all the poop from everyone's toilet goes.
Isn't that fucked up?

Soon is INTERSTICE: Part II.

Korean Vice I: Alcohol

In this city there are about as many bars as there convenience stores (for a measurement of convenience store frequency, see my previous blog post on the subject). A lot of the bars’ entrances have a structure that sticks out of the ground, and a stairway just inside the door that descends below. It really gives it the “underground” feel.

In most cultures, the weekend bears the highest concentration of people drinking to the point of intoxication. While this is also true in Korea, the weekdays put up a stiff competition. Let’s say you are walking around Seoul’s streets on- a Tuesday, for example. You are likely to encounter a group or lone person stumbling along the sidewalk, having to pause every few steps to regain their balance. The first night I was here I was outside my building and a man was walking by, alone, on the sidewalk. He was very excited about something, and was pumping his fist in the air periodically, speaking as if he were part of a revolution with rebels all around him. Except, he was alone. He was drunk, and was slurring his words. Even though I don’t know the Korean language, I know enough to know that slurring is slurring. He then walked up to a nearby flagpole and with force, punched it once, as one would a punching bag. I could not help but smile in reminiscence of cronies like Mike Andrews.

Another time I was outside the building, reading on these various stone-wall/bench things. Several benches down from me was a guy eating something he had purchased at the convenience store. He vomited on the ground, then collected himself. He got up and walked to the next bench over, to sit down there, perhaps to disassociate himself from his regurgitated filth which still remained by the adjacent bench, I suppose. Not long after, he vomited again, and then proceeded to migrate to the next bench. He did this a total of four times- it was quite hysterical- each time moving a bench closer to the one I sat on. My business carried me elsewhere before I could have found myself a bench-mate.

One time we were waiting for one of our cronies while they were in the convenience store. Across the street was one of those underground bars. A guy came out and walked up the street and past us. He was walking slowly and unsteadily. With every third or fourth step he let out some vomit, yet he not once broke his slow-and-steady pace. He left a trail behind him with splats here, blots there. The bouncers outside the club called it to the attention of a cleaning crew who happened to be sitting on the wall on our side of the street and they were quickly dousing each offended area with kitty litter or disinfectant, I forget. Then I think they followed him into an alley to deal with them.

As I mentioned, binge drinking on weeknights is not uncommon. Sometimes we’ll go eat after work and there’s plenty of outdoor tables with hoards of businessmen, each with a tall beer or two. And though this next fact is a bit peripheral to this post’s topic, its curiousness begs my digression: we once reached a stretch of a few minutes in which the tables and their occupants on the block had reached a generally quiet span of time. Suddenly, and without warning, the table next to us, consisting of about ten businessmen, broke out into a chorus of applause, unaccompanied by any verbal remark. It lasted about three seconds before ending as abruptly as it began, at which the table’s occupants gathered their things to leave.

It is normal, on a weeknight, for many a businessmen to drink enough to the point where their friends have to carry them home- then go to work early the next morning as if it didn’t happen. Also, from time to time I will see that kind of drunk peeing in a sewer grate over here, pissing in an alley over there. It’s funny because at times your path gives you not option other than walking into his vicinity during the act, so you just give him the benefit of the doubt and pretend it’s not happening.

Alcohol laws are a bit more relaxed than they are in many U.S. states, by which I mean that there is no law requiring separate “liquor stores.” Right now if I wanted to I could ride the elevator down to the convenience store in my building and buy some beer or wine. I know that’s not a new concept for many of you but I, being a crony who spent most of his living time in Massachusetts and Rhode Island, find it a bit of a foreign concept. Korean Alcohol laws are more relaxed in other subtle ways, too. And for every Janus there is an equal and opposite Janus. While the U.S. has places like CVS or Walgreens with built-in pharmacies, Korean law requires prescription drug pharmacy stores to stand on their own.

Due in the future: “Korean Vice II”

Omija!: If You’re Divisible By Eleven, You’re O.K. By Me

At midnight, which is in a few short hours, my 22nd birthday arrives. If you want to get technical, since I am in Korea and 13 hours ahead, it will be at my Korean Time 1:00 PM when the day arrives on the East Coast of America, where I was born and raised, etc. However, I think one should consider a real birthday the one that arrives where you ARE at that point in time- where you exist. Should people in Dartmouth or Providence wait until THEIR midnight, thirteen hours after mine, to celebrate in the streets, so be it. But as far as I’m concerned, I have four hours left in my twenty-first year. Which brings me to an important point- If anyone out there is considering any kind of job in an Asian country…ponder this: Your birthday would arrive sooner than it will back home, as mine is about to. Once again, I have nailed a loophole to beat the system.

Of the five international teachers at our school, three of us have birthdays in October. In order to celebrate this tri-umph-arate, the crew ventured this weekend in style to a restaurant on the Intercontinental Hotel’s top floor. It is connected to the COEX Mall, Convention and Exhibition Center. Just look at the view from our private room, and by all means please feel free to be jealous.

Now I am not someone who needs exquisite food to be happy. Nor do I find that watching the Food Network for more than 5 seconds is ever worthwhile. But sometimes it’s okay to live it up. Allow me to now present the photo-worthy courses in that night’s divine meal.

<- Here is the Salmon. Divine. Perfectly Moist. Showered in Lemon. Accompanied by a streak of red pepper paste.

<- On the left side of the plate you see a long strip of ribs. On the right, steak. In the middle, veggie-things.

Now I must explain what Omija is. It’s a non-alcoholic punch-like drink that I have encountered a few times in my Korean restaurant explorations of the upscale kind. It seems to be something out of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory because the idea is that it stimulates all five taste buds simultaneously. It is made from some kind of berry. I’d say the dominating flavors are sweet and tart and YET it is somehow to a degree good for you. I told the staff at work how much I loved it, so they gave me directions to a place I may be able to buy some from (it’s not something you can buy in a supermarket or convenience store). Below, you see an Omija-flavored sorbet dessert thing. It was so theatrical because it was brought out in this bowl inside a bowl, the outer parameter surrounded by bubbling and rising smoke/steam: a chemical reaction made possible by dry ice and water. I thought it was wonderful for both eye and mouth.

THEN. I thought my Omija endeavors were done for the night, but the staff surprised me with a present- a bottle of Omija extract! It was made by one of the staff members, who bought the berries and crushed them down into the extract, which you mix at a ten-to-one ratio with water to create a full glass of the punch. I’ve already had a few glasses of it this weekend and I consider it one of the most thoughtful gifts of all time. It even said on the label, in Korean, “Alex Donnelly Teacher Enjoy Omija!” or something along those lines.

Then out came the cake and holy Toledo. Biggest, tastiest cake I’ve ever seen/had, complete with authentic pineapple and kiwi on the top layer. And you have to love the two message panels, written with dark chocolate on white chocolate, which bear nothing but truth. I also graciously received a new scarf which I have been wearing ever since. I currently sport it in my new Skype picture.

In 1998 I was excited to turn 11 years old because it was divisible by 11 and was the same number (one) twice. When I turned 12 I was disappointed to put that phase in the past, but looked forward with eagerness towards the next time it would happen. As Bukowski said, “And here it is.”To those who have made this birthday celebration wonderful I am greatly indebted to your kindness. You have collectively made up one reason on a list of hundreds why this is one of the best and happiest times of my life!



Long days and pleasant nights!

On Korean Thanksgiving

This past Saturday was the holiday that is the Korean equivalent of what we know in the U.S. as Thanksgiving. It is called, pronounced in English phonetics, Chew-Sawn. For one it meant that I had a long weekend, for which I give many thanks. From what I understand, Chew-Sawn is a more public-gathering celebration, though that does not exclude families enjoying traditional Chew-Sawn dishes at home, in thanksgiving-paralleled abundance. On this day I went to a big festival thing at “The Village,” which is open most of the year but has featured on this day more music, activities and food.

A big part of the whole ordeal is tradition, and I love that about it.

One element is playing traditional Korean games. Here you see a game that is similar to ring toss, only you try to throw those long darts into the holes on that structure for points. And don’t step over the line, of course! You can see that boy faithfully adhering to that rule.

Here you see a couple of mechanisms that add up to a game in which you use that stick and move with it to keep the metal mini-hula-hoop thing rolling. I’m not sure if there’s a game you can play with it, or stunts to be performed, but there were a lot of areas in which the clanging of those things was rampant. I love the idea that this man is passing on the game to another young generation.

Here you see a giant swing that you stood on in order to swing! There was a gigantic line of kids eager to take their turn on the swing. It was funny, because this boy riding it here, while not making any audible sounds to indicate so, was visibly scared, but I’m sure deep down he knew it was completely worth the wait.

Another tradition. Throughout everywhere we went on this day, many children (mostly about age ten and under) were wearing traditional Korean garb. You can see that in a few of these pictures. I only saw a few adults wearing this kind of thing. One of the people I was with told me that the kids LOVE wearing that kind of outfit…it’s the ultimate game of dress-up, but it of course goes deeper than that- perhaps in a way these children do not fully comprehend, yet.

I was jealous of these kids and, when it presented itself, seized the opportunity to join in on the fun. For what is about 80 cents in the U.S., I got to try on this traditional Korean outfit and had some pictures taken. I felt like a king. I could wear clothes like that more often. Ladies, don’t you want to be my Queen? Yesnoyesno? Yes.

Rice and Rice-cake related treats are a big part of Korean cuisine, especially concerning dessert. Here, kids and adults alike were welcome to take a few swinging bashes at that mass of soon-to-be rice cake, as was the traditional pre-machines way of preparing it. I could not resist putting here two pictures of the kids I witnessed; the second girl was so cute in that she could barely lift the hammer.

What you see prepared here is a very specifically arranged feast which is created in honor of someone when they pass away. The foods selected and even the order and manner in which they are arranged on the table corresponds to a very specific tradition. Certain foods pointing to the north and south poles, etc.

Finally, what you see here is a Time Capsule. It was created, stored and sealed in 1994, which was the sixth-hundredth anniversary year of Seoul’s being named the capital city of Korea. The capsule contains 300 objects representative of life in Korea, new and old, up to that point in history. The Time Capsule will be opened in the year 2394, four hundred years after it was initially sealed, which will then be the 1,000th anniversary of Seoul’s being the capital. Such a sight isn’t much to see at surface value. But the idea that specifically selected items and artifacts (the specifics of which are kept secret) meant to represent Korean life are locked in there, and will be for a few hundred years, creates a huge presence of mystery and curiosity to anyone who walks up to it. I testify to that. Engraved around the top surface around the edjes [sic] are words of well wishes from Mayors that were of other capital cities in 1994- France, India, China, etc. This undertaking was championed by Seoul’s 1994 mayor, and I think that in many ways it is a truly selfless endeavor, to create something that in most ways will only have its true payoff long after its creators have passed away. But let’s not kid ourselves- that mayor’s name is on a huge preface inscription at the display’s entrance, and his legeacy is tied to it- he is obviously going down in history.

Changdeokgung Palace

I was fortunate enough to take a tour of what is called the Changdeokchung Palace, located north of the river that runs through Seoul. The word ‘Palace’ in this context does not refer to one specific building, but rather to a series of many across an expansive tract of property. The royal families/dynasties throughout Korean history lived at this site continuously until the last Queen died there in 1989. Now, the country employs a democratically-run system of presidential elections. The first president was elected in 1987, right before the nation’s capital, Seoul, hosted the Olympics in 1988.




















This first picture I took shows Injeongjeon, the main palatial throne hall. This was the most important site of major state affairs. The coronation of new kings of Korea occurred here, as well as the ceremonious reception of important foreign diplomats. If you look at the raised walkway(s) in the center of this courtyard, you will notice that there are actually three leveled paths. These were used for introductory processions for those kinds of ceremonies. The middle walkway is the highest, upon which the King, Queen, and other highest nobles walked upon. You NEVER walked on that highest tier unless you were large and in charge. The other two walkways on either side of that middle one are a bit lower, and were for all the important nobles of authority. Once the tour guide explained this, she enthusiastically invited us to proceed through the courtyard on the center path. I was a little hesitant, questioning my worthiness, and almost wasn’t going to, but the person I was with made me.

You will also notice, on either side of the three walkways, what appears to be a long stretch of gravestones. However, engraved on those stones are names of people and their ranks. During processions, the respective person stood by their stone. They begin at the highest rank nearest to the temple and work their way back.

If you look closely on the left and right edges of the top layer roof, you can see notches on top that extend to the tips. I believe there are nine. These are small gargoyle statues, put there to ward off demon sprits from the area of the building and palace. There is good luck and karma to be had based on the number of these defender-gargoyles placed on a palace roof. You ALWAYS put an odd number on each side the roof, NEVER even. Even more particularly, you either had to put 3, 5, 7, 9, or 11. I think this one has nine. The number chosen often reflects how high-ranking in society the affairs of that building are.

The building itself bears the appearance of a two story building. However, inner inspection reveals it to be a one story palace with a luxurious ceiling. You can see a picture of the chamber within below, with the throne and the like.


We eventually proceeded to what is called the “Secret Garden(s),” which were places of repose and meditation for the royal family and company. There is a pond in the middle, with fish, and smaller huts for relaxation around it, complete with gardens with many different types of plants and bushes. I could imagine myself here reading for hours, as a prince in a royal dynasty or whatever.

You can also see here, in the picture below, a large set of stairs leading up to a building with a royal library and reading room, which overlooks that secret garden pond. You can see the three doorways near the foot of the stairs. The rules about rank that I mentioned on the three-leveled walkway apply to the passing through of those doorways as well.

We were also shown the nightly resting places of the King and Queen, who both always slept under different roofs. This is in accordance with Confucianism, which also decreed that the woman never left her separate chamber to go see her husband. The King, however, could leave his hold to go see his wife, since, under that philosophy, men were supposed to fulfill the active, dominant role and female the passive. But what if the Beatles made a surprise one-time appearance on Ed Sullivan, and only the wife happened to catch it? Too bad. She couldn’t tell the Mr.; he’d just have to wait 50 years to catch it on YouTube.

Finally, here is a picture of our tour guide. Every day, there are about ten or fifteen tours that you can join with a tour guide speaking in Korean, about three or four in English, and two in Japanese. Before the tour began she moseyed through the crowd, inquiring where the tour participants’ home countries were. I was the only one from the U.S.! There was a large group of tourists from Canada, who came on a bus as part of some larger thing and all wore tags around their necks that had that red leaf or whatever from the Canadian Flag. There were also a few people from Hungary. The tour guide was interesting. She wore a headset which connected to a box-speaker on her belt to amplify her voice. Most of the words she said were pronounced in the sort of manner in which you would say certain syllables extremely meticulously, like Chris Tucker trying to get his message across to Jackie Chan when they meet at the airport at the beginning of Rush Hour. And also, you HAVE to love the parasol. My love for parasols was created by my initial encounter with them in the game Animal Crossing. One time, senior year I went for a random walk alone on the PC campus at night, and it wasn’t raining either, but I brought an umbrella. For a goof. I encountered none other than Kennedy King, who asked, “What’s with the umbrella?” I answered, it’s actually a parasol. He then emoted a look of comprehension and approval, nodded his head, and said something along the lines of, “Bad-ass.”

The Coex Mall

I wish I could somehow convey just how big Seoul’s Coex Mall is, but I can’t. Many readers of this blog are probably familiar with the Providence Place mall, which is decent in size. But the Coex is immense by comparison, and its intricate (and borderline confusing) multi-level size and modern feel completely trumps it.

It is only about a ten minute walk from the place I live. It has both indoor and outdoor areas. The map console you see here, located at one of the mall’s billion entrances, displays the mall’s different levels, spots, and stores. This map is a touch screen, and you can click on locations to discover more information about events, sales, and general announcements, etc.
I wish I could tell you more about this display here, but I can’t read Korean characters (yet). What you see here are numerous pairs of cardboard-framed red-tint glasses. They were free for the taking. My assumption (a product of my well-known genius intellect, see: CNN) is that they are for some sort of scavenger hunt. Perhaps you scour the mall scavenger-hunt style to look for clues on displays that are only perceptible using these (potentially 3-D) glasses. Maybe the prize is a car. Maybe it’s a free hamburger. Maybe it isn’t. But the mall has McDonald’s, as you see here, Burger King, Pizza Hut, and even a Quizno’s.

I was told by folks on the inside back in the states that Quizno’s is generally a notoriously unprofitable franchise to open. But the one in the Coex Mall survives, apparently. Hell, Wal-Mart tried to make it in Korea but was driven out of business by a Korean-owned competitor named E-Mart. Go figure! More on that in the future.

They have a very large and well-renowned bookstore in the mall, which had a considerably large section of books in English (and a section in Japanese, too). The first time I went to that bookstore I quickly stumbled upon the Korean-translation Harry Potter books! The ones here are all in paperback though, and they aren’t that big- so the last book, for example, was divided into four or five parts, each of which was contained in a separate book. Gyp, I say! I wonder if the books are available in an un-segmented form, perhaps only in hardcover.

I went to an arcade in the Coex mall- pretty similar to U.S. arcades. There are many large up-to-date games, but the row of games you see here (there is another row directly behind it that is equally as long) is a mix. The consoles are all the same shape but include both games with ps3 graphics as well as classics like Tetris and Bust-A-Move (similar to “snood”, if that helps). I spent 500 won each on two games of Tetris, which means about 40 cents per play. In both attempts I couldn’t make it past the third round, but I’ll be back. Maybe I’ll become Seoul’s first internationally known Tetris champ. Maybe I won’t. But jup my words, thank ya.

I also could not help but venturing into the Nintendo store, which was state of the art, complete with DS’s and games in the display window rotating on platforms for the eyes to adore. You see here a large row of seats with handheld games (DS’s, most likely) that you can pick up and try. “The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess” had a huge display setup as well as couple of large flat screen TV’s featuring that game’s footage throughout the store. I think that game was released simultaneously with the launch of the Wii (2006) in the U.S., but apparently it’s still a big deal here. Also pictured are a few instant-classic DS games, featured here in their Korean formats.




Finally, movies are a big deal here, and I was told that about 70% of new movies released in major theaters here are American Hollywood movies with Korean subtitles. The picture here is a poster for the new movie “Gamer,” an action movie that I saw trailers for before no less than two movies in the summer of 2009. Though I have not seen its inside, apparently the movie theater in the Coex mall is very large and nice. If I can, I’d like to go see that new Mike Judge movie, and maybe it having Korean subtitles will help me take another step towards understanding the Korean language.