A very talented friend of mine, Scott Maier, got in touch with me a few months ago regarding a literary project he had begun working on. He asked for a few essays, which I provided, and I was suprised and excited to view the final results. Combining the writing and photographic skills of himself and several other individuals, vol. 1 of Thinkers Playground contains themes both international and domestic. It's a great read and I'm so happy to have been included!
check it out here
Monday, March 15, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Packing
My things peek out at me from boxes. Timid and nervous, they await their fate. It depresses me slightly how few things I own, especially considering I'll be getting rid of half the boxes barely taking up space in my tiny apartment.
My apartment, at first of symbol of my new found freedom, has become my confinement. I am a modern Rapunzel, 15 stories up, looking out at a landscape of endless glass and steel. Softly, I hum memories of the world outside, quietly building inertia. How I wish I could let down my hair...
I'm on edge now. My things are staring at me vacantly. They seem unfamiliar, as if they had appeared overnight. Who bought this blender? Who mopped this floor and washed these pots and pans for the past year? I feel disconnected from these things and eager to hand them over to someone else.
I own one week in Korea and a couple of boxes of junk.
So this is what I've made of my life, I think... But, then, something inside me swells up indignantly. Yes! That's right! This is what I've made of my life. I can pack it up in two suitcases and move it where I please. I can give much of it away without pain. I am not weighted down, I am not drowning in stuff.
I own two suitcases and a future filled with adventure.
The surge of passion quickly recedes to calmness tinged with confusion. I'm fairly certain that I'm living for something, but I still can't be sure what it is. I've often wondered over the past few years if it was possible to live life differently, and then whether or not it was entirely selfish. Now, sitting her among my boxes, I know the answers are "of course" and "irrelevant." Still, there must be some method to my madness. We humans continually seek patterns out of chaos, stability in the most volatile of existences.
So, here I sit, seeking meaning in the clutter of my boxed possessions, imagining that it matters one bit whether I have two suitcases or twenty. No, I suppose it doesn't matter at all.
Perched on the edge of uncertainty yet again, I can't help but feel a little frightened. I think back to that flight, over one year ago, from New York to Hong Kong. That flight where I verged on hysteria, clutching letters from home and spilling orange juice on innocent bystanders. This time the fear is different. This time I know it's so much more than okay to feel afraid. It's absolutely vital.
I don't know much about the future. I won't even venture to guess. All I know is that I want to watch the concrete crumble until it is fine sand. I want to trade city lights for constellations and I want to climb down from my enclosure on the fifteenth floor and feel the ground beneath me again.
And so, I'll turn out the lights and close the door one last time. I'll get on that plane and I'll live my life out of two suitcases. Who knows? Maybe I'll even whittle it down to one.
My apartment, at first of symbol of my new found freedom, has become my confinement. I am a modern Rapunzel, 15 stories up, looking out at a landscape of endless glass and steel. Softly, I hum memories of the world outside, quietly building inertia. How I wish I could let down my hair...
I'm on edge now. My things are staring at me vacantly. They seem unfamiliar, as if they had appeared overnight. Who bought this blender? Who mopped this floor and washed these pots and pans for the past year? I feel disconnected from these things and eager to hand them over to someone else.
I own one week in Korea and a couple of boxes of junk.
So this is what I've made of my life, I think... But, then, something inside me swells up indignantly. Yes! That's right! This is what I've made of my life. I can pack it up in two suitcases and move it where I please. I can give much of it away without pain. I am not weighted down, I am not drowning in stuff.
I own two suitcases and a future filled with adventure.
The surge of passion quickly recedes to calmness tinged with confusion. I'm fairly certain that I'm living for something, but I still can't be sure what it is. I've often wondered over the past few years if it was possible to live life differently, and then whether or not it was entirely selfish. Now, sitting her among my boxes, I know the answers are "of course" and "irrelevant." Still, there must be some method to my madness. We humans continually seek patterns out of chaos, stability in the most volatile of existences.
So, here I sit, seeking meaning in the clutter of my boxed possessions, imagining that it matters one bit whether I have two suitcases or twenty. No, I suppose it doesn't matter at all.
Perched on the edge of uncertainty yet again, I can't help but feel a little frightened. I think back to that flight, over one year ago, from New York to Hong Kong. That flight where I verged on hysteria, clutching letters from home and spilling orange juice on innocent bystanders. This time the fear is different. This time I know it's so much more than okay to feel afraid. It's absolutely vital.
I don't know much about the future. I won't even venture to guess. All I know is that I want to watch the concrete crumble until it is fine sand. I want to trade city lights for constellations and I want to climb down from my enclosure on the fifteenth floor and feel the ground beneath me again.
And so, I'll turn out the lights and close the door one last time. I'll get on that plane and I'll live my life out of two suitcases. Who knows? Maybe I'll even whittle it down to one.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The Seoul of My Story: An Imaginary Day
The early morning air in Seoul is soft and heavy with mist. As I stretch out in the cool damp grass, the world is painted in lavender. My fingers idly pluck at blades as the sky tints pink, warming despite the chill in the air. The amorous Han River mirrors the abundant sky, enthralled by the kaleidoscopic moods of the air.
I too am captivated by the scene. The prodigious high rises of Seoul reach towards the now vivid orange sky, marching outward to infinity. They are giants; monuments to human ingenuity and progress; antagonists to the gentle mountains rolling across the horizon. They speak to me across generations, their multi-linguistic signs heralding a new era in the life of the city. They whisper secrets about the future, now while it is quiet, while most of the city silently sleeps.
Gentle clouds roll in as the sky becomes tranquil blue. I am no longer alone in my grassy haven. People filter in from all over the city, eager to share the sunshine and delicate breeze. They unfurl blankets and set out picnics. Motorboats skim across the surface of the river and bicycles buzz through winding footpaths. Children chase each other through the trees as bemused parents look on. The city has awoken and once again it thrives.
Closing my eyes I imagine the Han River before the arrival of people and construction of skyscrapers. I picture it flowing silently from the mountains, gradually gaining momentum until it rushes ecstatically into the Yellow Sea after a journey of over 500 kilometers. I see trade ships proudly roaming it waters, bringing prosperity and growth. I see wars being fought for its control and the waters running red. I imagine, much later, the same waters rippling beneath the oars of the 1988 Olympic rowers, testaments to the peace which long ago stilled the gentle river.
Restless, I wander into the city where gleaming office towers interweave with traditional palaces and temples. It's only a short subway ride from the Han River to Insa-dong, Seoul's famous artists' neighborhood. A small knot of streets in Seoul's Jongno-gu district, Insa-dong has specialized in the antiques market for centuries. It's fusion of the traditional and the modern make it a perfect microcosm of Seoul itself. Historical architecture abounds, most notably Jogyesa, a Korean Buddhist temple and Unhyeongung, a former royal residence.
Any wanderer could easily pass the hours perusing the many antique shops and galleries lining Insa-dong's alleyways. Here, contemporary art mingles with ancient pottery and vintage jewelry. Books with well worn covers wait to tell their stories while hand made paper begs for new stories to be written. There is something here for every eye, and I browse slowly, finding treasures among the multitude.
Weary shoppers can stop for a cup of tea in one of the many traditional tea houses or modern cafes in the area. I order a warm cup of daechu-cha, or jujube tea. Its aroma and deep red color are equally as pleasing as its sweet flavor. The tea is served in a beautiful earthenware cup with slivers of jujube and pine nuts floating along its surface. Some say the jujube helps alleviate stress, and curled up in my chair, I can certainly feel its magic. Fully relaxed, I drift back into the street and head home, arms laden with bags.
By now the sun is sinking low in the sky, peeking between the industrial giants before disappearing beneath the mountains. I sit down at an outdoor restaurant with a friend and order steaming pots of soon dubu jjigae, a favorite of mine. The spicy soup brimming with tofu and vegetables is served in a stone bowl which keeps it bubbling hot long after it arrives at the table. My skin flushes as I eat spoonfuls of the spicy liquid, warming me as the air cools and the night rolls in over the city.
We finish our meal and seek out the highest bar we can find for a glass of wine and a view. The mountains in the distance are a study in texture and hue. They multiply and saturate until the deepest blues melt into the soft night air. We sit silently a long while and a feeling of gratitude swells inside of me for all of seen and done and learned over the past year. Meanwhile the light of day softens into the glow of night.
The neon lights of the city beckon us, drawing us back into its center. The intersections are draped in webs of pedestrians, all eager to partake in Seoul's legendary nightlife. Vendors line the busy streets and a mosaic of street food smells fill the air. There are thousands of bars and cafes in the city, but no matter which one we choose, we always manage to find a familiar face or discover a new friend. Tonight should be no different. Surely some adventure awaits us in the ever vigilant city of Seoul. Another chapter in an infinite volume, a story as of yet, untold.
I too am captivated by the scene. The prodigious high rises of Seoul reach towards the now vivid orange sky, marching outward to infinity. They are giants; monuments to human ingenuity and progress; antagonists to the gentle mountains rolling across the horizon. They speak to me across generations, their multi-linguistic signs heralding a new era in the life of the city. They whisper secrets about the future, now while it is quiet, while most of the city silently sleeps.
Gentle clouds roll in as the sky becomes tranquil blue. I am no longer alone in my grassy haven. People filter in from all over the city, eager to share the sunshine and delicate breeze. They unfurl blankets and set out picnics. Motorboats skim across the surface of the river and bicycles buzz through winding footpaths. Children chase each other through the trees as bemused parents look on. The city has awoken and once again it thrives.
Closing my eyes I imagine the Han River before the arrival of people and construction of skyscrapers. I picture it flowing silently from the mountains, gradually gaining momentum until it rushes ecstatically into the Yellow Sea after a journey of over 500 kilometers. I see trade ships proudly roaming it waters, bringing prosperity and growth. I see wars being fought for its control and the waters running red. I imagine, much later, the same waters rippling beneath the oars of the 1988 Olympic rowers, testaments to the peace which long ago stilled the gentle river.
Restless, I wander into the city where gleaming office towers interweave with traditional palaces and temples. It's only a short subway ride from the Han River to Insa-dong, Seoul's famous artists' neighborhood. A small knot of streets in Seoul's Jongno-gu district, Insa-dong has specialized in the antiques market for centuries. It's fusion of the traditional and the modern make it a perfect microcosm of Seoul itself. Historical architecture abounds, most notably Jogyesa, a Korean Buddhist temple and Unhyeongung, a former royal residence.
Any wanderer could easily pass the hours perusing the many antique shops and galleries lining Insa-dong's alleyways. Here, contemporary art mingles with ancient pottery and vintage jewelry. Books with well worn covers wait to tell their stories while hand made paper begs for new stories to be written. There is something here for every eye, and I browse slowly, finding treasures among the multitude.
Weary shoppers can stop for a cup of tea in one of the many traditional tea houses or modern cafes in the area. I order a warm cup of daechu-cha, or jujube tea. Its aroma and deep red color are equally as pleasing as its sweet flavor. The tea is served in a beautiful earthenware cup with slivers of jujube and pine nuts floating along its surface. Some say the jujube helps alleviate stress, and curled up in my chair, I can certainly feel its magic. Fully relaxed, I drift back into the street and head home, arms laden with bags.
By now the sun is sinking low in the sky, peeking between the industrial giants before disappearing beneath the mountains. I sit down at an outdoor restaurant with a friend and order steaming pots of soon dubu jjigae, a favorite of mine. The spicy soup brimming with tofu and vegetables is served in a stone bowl which keeps it bubbling hot long after it arrives at the table. My skin flushes as I eat spoonfuls of the spicy liquid, warming me as the air cools and the night rolls in over the city.
We finish our meal and seek out the highest bar we can find for a glass of wine and a view. The mountains in the distance are a study in texture and hue. They multiply and saturate until the deepest blues melt into the soft night air. We sit silently a long while and a feeling of gratitude swells inside of me for all of seen and done and learned over the past year. Meanwhile the light of day softens into the glow of night.
The neon lights of the city beckon us, drawing us back into its center. The intersections are draped in webs of pedestrians, all eager to partake in Seoul's legendary nightlife. Vendors line the busy streets and a mosaic of street food smells fill the air. There are thousands of bars and cafes in the city, but no matter which one we choose, we always manage to find a familiar face or discover a new friend. Tonight should be no different. Surely some adventure awaits us in the ever vigilant city of Seoul. Another chapter in an infinite volume, a story as of yet, untold.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Change is Good
The constant commotion in my head has kept me from blogging for the past few weeks. Every time I sit down to write, the words have been swallowed up in a wall of static noise Ideas fly around my brain like psychotic butterflies, never stilling for a moment of rest and always eluding the net.
This flurry of thought is not, thankfully, a nervous breakdown. It's just that in the last weeks everything has changed.
For the past few months something has been off. Maybe I didn't even realize it at the time, but a disturbance had rippled through my life sending me, unmoored, into the unknown. And there, vulnerable and directionless, the restless wind which settles into my bones from time to time began to wrap itself around me once more. This is where the trouble began.
Coming back from the Philippines (a trip I've been desperate to write about and will soon) I noticed something was not right. As I sat on the airplane that would return me to my life in Korea I felt an emptiness in my chest and a dull sense of anxiety - an emotion I am not very familiar with.
For the first time, I didn't want to go back to Korea. I no longer sensed impending excitement and opportunity, only the slow rhythmic beat of routine. It was putting me to sleep, this gentle lullaby, and I realized I'd settled in deeply and was prepared to dream away my early twenties in Korea. I realized immediately this is something I don't want.
Don't get me wrong... the past year has been amazing. I would not change a single moment and still consider choosing to teach in Korea one of the most important decisions of my life. I just feel it's time to give somewhere else a try. I know instinctively that there is more out there for me to discover.
As a rule, I always go with my deepest instincts. At times, this is infuriating for people because I fluctuate wildly for a few weeks before impulsively choosing an often counter intuitive path. This method, however, has never steered me wrong. It may be ill suited for many people, but for the way I choose to live my life, I can't see any other way.
So, I started to research teaching in other areas of Asia. I threw myself into research and job applications with unceasing intensity. Then, when the noise in my head had grown the loudest, Maddy had an idea that shut it off, as abruptly as the power button on a television.
"What if you came with me to San Diego for the summer?"
There had been a million possibilities in my brain, and if you take out the obvious draw of being with Maddy all summer, San Diego was no where on my list, but something about it made sense deep down.
We carried the idea further... work a few months, live as cheaply as possible, have a short break from Asia, then find new teaching contracts at the end of August elsewhere in Asia. It felt right. More importantly, it felt exciting.
I could go on and on about my decision process, but there really is no need. When it comes down to it, after all things were considered, it just felt like what I wanted. And if there is one rule I live by, it's always to live the life that will make you the most happy, and let everything else sort itself out.
So, my new plan... here goes... I will finish teaching in Korea on February 26th. On the 27th my friend Willie and I will fly to Bangkok and meet Maddy. The three of us will travel Laos and Cambodia and return to Seoul on March 9th in time to take advantage of the free ticket home my contract offers me. Then I will fly to Boston and spend a few weeks with my family. At the beginning of April I will meet Maddy in San Diego and sort out our summer.
Living and blogging in Korea has been amazing. I still have plenty to say about it and hope to blog much more in the next few weeks. All things come to an end eventually, and for now, I'm getting ready to say goodbye to Korea.
This flurry of thought is not, thankfully, a nervous breakdown. It's just that in the last weeks everything has changed.
For the past few months something has been off. Maybe I didn't even realize it at the time, but a disturbance had rippled through my life sending me, unmoored, into the unknown. And there, vulnerable and directionless, the restless wind which settles into my bones from time to time began to wrap itself around me once more. This is where the trouble began.
Coming back from the Philippines (a trip I've been desperate to write about and will soon) I noticed something was not right. As I sat on the airplane that would return me to my life in Korea I felt an emptiness in my chest and a dull sense of anxiety - an emotion I am not very familiar with.
For the first time, I didn't want to go back to Korea. I no longer sensed impending excitement and opportunity, only the slow rhythmic beat of routine. It was putting me to sleep, this gentle lullaby, and I realized I'd settled in deeply and was prepared to dream away my early twenties in Korea. I realized immediately this is something I don't want.
Don't get me wrong... the past year has been amazing. I would not change a single moment and still consider choosing to teach in Korea one of the most important decisions of my life. I just feel it's time to give somewhere else a try. I know instinctively that there is more out there for me to discover.
As a rule, I always go with my deepest instincts. At times, this is infuriating for people because I fluctuate wildly for a few weeks before impulsively choosing an often counter intuitive path. This method, however, has never steered me wrong. It may be ill suited for many people, but for the way I choose to live my life, I can't see any other way.
So, I started to research teaching in other areas of Asia. I threw myself into research and job applications with unceasing intensity. Then, when the noise in my head had grown the loudest, Maddy had an idea that shut it off, as abruptly as the power button on a television.
"What if you came with me to San Diego for the summer?"
There had been a million possibilities in my brain, and if you take out the obvious draw of being with Maddy all summer, San Diego was no where on my list, but something about it made sense deep down.
We carried the idea further... work a few months, live as cheaply as possible, have a short break from Asia, then find new teaching contracts at the end of August elsewhere in Asia. It felt right. More importantly, it felt exciting.
I could go on and on about my decision process, but there really is no need. When it comes down to it, after all things were considered, it just felt like what I wanted. And if there is one rule I live by, it's always to live the life that will make you the most happy, and let everything else sort itself out.
So, my new plan... here goes... I will finish teaching in Korea on February 26th. On the 27th my friend Willie and I will fly to Bangkok and meet Maddy. The three of us will travel Laos and Cambodia and return to Seoul on March 9th in time to take advantage of the free ticket home my contract offers me. Then I will fly to Boston and spend a few weeks with my family. At the beginning of April I will meet Maddy in San Diego and sort out our summer.
Living and blogging in Korea has been amazing. I still have plenty to say about it and hope to blog much more in the next few weeks. All things come to an end eventually, and for now, I'm getting ready to say goodbye to Korea.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Boracay in Pictures
Picture Perfect Blue-green ocean
Gorgeous Orange Sunsets
Sunset Sailing
Poisonous Snakes
Daytime Cruising
Watching the setting sun from the cove
Eating Exotic Fruits on the Shore
Only in Boracay
Lounging in Paradise
Perfection
I woke up every morning to this
Sunset on the SandThursday, December 24, 2009
Top Moments of 2009
I'd like to think about my goals for 2010 while I am away for the next two weeks in the tropical paradise that is Boracay. This will be my last post of 2009, so I thought I would choose my favorite moments of the past year...
1. Coming out of a laid back rooftop bar in Chiang Mai to find a baby elephant trudging along up the road, which we then proceeded to pet and kiss like crazy.
2. My Italian dinner date with Lacy and Maddy in Chiang Mai - it was the origin of the A Team, a collaboration prophesied by the ancients and written in the stars.
3. Swimming to a deserted island on Koh Chang. We swam in the open ocean for an hour, all the while thinking about sharks and ugly black rock crabs. Then we had to drag ourselves over slimy rocks in only inches of water for what seemed the length of a football field because we the rocks were to slippery to walk on. We made it to the beach eventually and broke coconuts with rocks then drank the fresh juice.
4. Standing at the observation deck of the world's tallest building, Taipei 101
5. Covering ourselves in mud for hours on end at Mudfest.
6. Our idyllic mountain top bungalow in Koh Phagnan where we met our "shaman" and passed a magical night celebrating his birthday.
7. Standing in the sea on Tsushima, Japan after surviving an arduous bicycle odyssey.
8. Luxury noraebanging with our new friend Kevin in Busan (noraebang is a karaoke room)
9. Bungee Jumping- it was horrifying, but I did it.
10. And finally, writing my 100th blog post today and discovering that I have had 2,000 profile views this year. Thanks to everyone who finds the time to read my ramblings, I hope they've been somewhat amusing. Here's to more adventures next year!!
Happy Holidays
1. Coming out of a laid back rooftop bar in Chiang Mai to find a baby elephant trudging along up the road, which we then proceeded to pet and kiss like crazy.
2. My Italian dinner date with Lacy and Maddy in Chiang Mai - it was the origin of the A Team, a collaboration prophesied by the ancients and written in the stars.
3. Swimming to a deserted island on Koh Chang. We swam in the open ocean for an hour, all the while thinking about sharks and ugly black rock crabs. Then we had to drag ourselves over slimy rocks in only inches of water for what seemed the length of a football field because we the rocks were to slippery to walk on. We made it to the beach eventually and broke coconuts with rocks then drank the fresh juice.
4. Standing at the observation deck of the world's tallest building, Taipei 101
5. Covering ourselves in mud for hours on end at Mudfest.
6. Our idyllic mountain top bungalow in Koh Phagnan where we met our "shaman" and passed a magical night celebrating his birthday.
7. Standing in the sea on Tsushima, Japan after surviving an arduous bicycle odyssey.
8. Luxury noraebanging with our new friend Kevin in Busan (noraebang is a karaoke room)
9. Bungee Jumping- it was horrifying, but I did it.
10. And finally, writing my 100th blog post today and discovering that I have had 2,000 profile views this year. Thanks to everyone who finds the time to read my ramblings, I hope they've been somewhat amusing. Here's to more adventures next year!!
Happy Holidays
Monday, December 21, 2009
20 '09 Resolutions Revisited
I started off my blog by making 20 resolutions/predictions for the year ahead. Let's take a look and see how it all went...
1. to see a bamboo forest. Hmmm, well, no, didn't do that... To be honest I'm not really even sure where to find a bamboo forest around here... maybe next year in Japan.
2. to stand on the Great Wall of China. Okay... off to a slow start. No China yet.
3. to go swimming in the ocean in every place possible. Thailand, Japan, Korea, the Philippines... not bad, not bad.
4. to hear wild elephants trumpet in Chiang Mai. Saw, played with, kissed, fed and heard plenty of elephants in Chiang Mai... magical
5. to smell the cherry blossoms in spring time. I even took a picture, Korean style...
6. to taste sushi in Japan. I did this just in time, as I've now given up seafood.
7. to touch an ancient Buddha. I have had my Buddha fill over here and it never gets old.
8. to learn to meditate in a temple. I never wrote a post on the temple stay I did in Korea recently, but we did in fact practice several types of meditation in a temple.
9. to remember how transient life is. A work in progress. I still try to be mindful of this whenever possible.
10. to forget my limitations. Did that on more than a few occasions... Sometimes it doesn't have quite the desired effect...
11. to keep up with my yoga! Happy to report I have done this. I took an amazing Hatha (hot) yoga class with Maddy just last night!
12. to read at least five modern classics. I've read about 45,000 books so far this year, so I'm going to consider this accomplished. The best? Tropic of Cancer, Murakami's short stories, Shadow of the Wind, and The Heart of the World by Ian Baker
13. to find new friends in unusual places. This I have done for sure. (Read my blog for proof!!)
14. to write about fear and loneliness. My blogs seem to be overwhelmingly positive, which has matched my mood this year. I have to say I have never been so consistently and overwhelmingly content and my writing has reflected it. I think I was very nervous (and still home!) when I made this list. Still, I'd like to delve into these emotions.
15. to travel to a place whose name I don't even know yet. Koh Chang, Koh Phi Phi, Krabi, Busan, Tsushima, every suburb/dong in Seoul, Boracay... the list continues...
16. to teach with passion, commitment, and silliness in proper doses. I couldn't begin to comment on this. I love teaching, I want to be a good teacher, I try to be a good teacher. There are also days when I just can't find the motivation.
17. to conquer the Korean language... or maybe just learn a few conversational bits... BA HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! No, but seriously.... BA HA HA HA HA HA!!
18. to say yes to new opportunities even when i feel like being a hermit. I'd like to thank Maddy for helping me accomplish this one...
19. to organize a trip to Bali. Oh Bali, plane tickets to you are very expensive, so your cousin the Philippines won out. I want to see you so bad. Let's play next year. Your friend, Brittany
20. to plan another year as if it were my last. 20 '10 Resolutions doesn't have the same ring to it, but I'll have to come up with something equally genius before I fly off to paradise.
1. to see a bamboo forest. Hmmm, well, no, didn't do that... To be honest I'm not really even sure where to find a bamboo forest around here... maybe next year in Japan.
2. to stand on the Great Wall of China. Okay... off to a slow start. No China yet.
3. to go swimming in the ocean in every place possible. Thailand, Japan, Korea, the Philippines... not bad, not bad.
4. to hear wild elephants trumpet in Chiang Mai. Saw, played with, kissed, fed and heard plenty of elephants in Chiang Mai... magical
5. to smell the cherry blossoms in spring time. I even took a picture, Korean style...
6. to taste sushi in Japan. I did this just in time, as I've now given up seafood.
7. to touch an ancient Buddha. I have had my Buddha fill over here and it never gets old.
8. to learn to meditate in a temple. I never wrote a post on the temple stay I did in Korea recently, but we did in fact practice several types of meditation in a temple.
9. to remember how transient life is. A work in progress. I still try to be mindful of this whenever possible.
10. to forget my limitations. Did that on more than a few occasions... Sometimes it doesn't have quite the desired effect...
11. to keep up with my yoga! Happy to report I have done this. I took an amazing Hatha (hot) yoga class with Maddy just last night!
12. to read at least five modern classics. I've read about 45,000 books so far this year, so I'm going to consider this accomplished. The best? Tropic of Cancer, Murakami's short stories, Shadow of the Wind, and The Heart of the World by Ian Baker
13. to find new friends in unusual places. This I have done for sure. (Read my blog for proof!!)
14. to write about fear and loneliness. My blogs seem to be overwhelmingly positive, which has matched my mood this year. I have to say I have never been so consistently and overwhelmingly content and my writing has reflected it. I think I was very nervous (and still home!) when I made this list. Still, I'd like to delve into these emotions.
15. to travel to a place whose name I don't even know yet. Koh Chang, Koh Phi Phi, Krabi, Busan, Tsushima, every suburb/dong in Seoul, Boracay... the list continues...
16. to teach with passion, commitment, and silliness in proper doses. I couldn't begin to comment on this. I love teaching, I want to be a good teacher, I try to be a good teacher. There are also days when I just can't find the motivation.
17. to conquer the Korean language... or maybe just learn a few conversational bits... BA HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! No, but seriously.... BA HA HA HA HA HA!!
18. to say yes to new opportunities even when i feel like being a hermit. I'd like to thank Maddy for helping me accomplish this one...
19. to organize a trip to Bali. Oh Bali, plane tickets to you are very expensive, so your cousin the Philippines won out. I want to see you so bad. Let's play next year. Your friend, Brittany
20. to plan another year as if it were my last. 20 '10 Resolutions doesn't have the same ring to it, but I'll have to come up with something equally genius before I fly off to paradise.
10 Ways I've Become Korean This Year
1. I enthusiastically use scissors to cut up my food. Maybe it's not elegant but it's just so convenient.
2. I use phrases like "same same," "it is your privacy," and "Oh! Do you know?!?" in everyday conversation.
3. I am horrified by wearing shoes indoors. Unless, of course, they are indoor shoes.
4. I don't find it strange when five different students fall off their chairs during one class period.
5. I feel really guilty if I'm tired and want to leave the bar before the sun rises. "I'm so sorry guys, I just can't hang. It's 4 am and I really just need to go home."
6. If I can't get my way I resort to making long whining noises until people give in.
7. Forks feel kind of big and clumsy...
8. "I'd like a cop-ae latte please. Yes, that's right, a coppee"
"Let's drink a few Cass-uh and go to the dance-uh club."
"What time is it? Oh, let me check my watchee."
9. My next boyfriend will have to wear matching outfits with me, hold my purse when we go out, and stage dramatic parting scenes on the subway.
--and--
10. It's a holiday and that can only mean one thing: drink soju with your coworkers until someone is dancing with a fire extinguisher while a few others sing horrendous karaoke and someone gets sexually harassed. I forget... is this standard practice in America as well???
Happy Holidays!
2. I use phrases like "same same," "it is your privacy," and "Oh! Do you know?!?" in everyday conversation.
3. I am horrified by wearing shoes indoors. Unless, of course, they are indoor shoes.
4. I don't find it strange when five different students fall off their chairs during one class period.
5. I feel really guilty if I'm tired and want to leave the bar before the sun rises. "I'm so sorry guys, I just can't hang. It's 4 am and I really just need to go home."
6. If I can't get my way I resort to making long whining noises until people give in.
7. Forks feel kind of big and clumsy...
8. "I'd like a cop-ae latte please. Yes, that's right, a coppee"
"Let's drink a few Cass-uh and go to the dance-uh club."
"What time is it? Oh, let me check my watchee."
9. My next boyfriend will have to wear matching outfits with me, hold my purse when we go out, and stage dramatic parting scenes on the subway.
--and--
10. It's a holiday and that can only mean one thing: drink soju with your coworkers until someone is dancing with a fire extinguisher while a few others sing horrendous karaoke and someone gets sexually harassed. I forget... is this standard practice in America as well???
Happy Holidays!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The Cove
I recently watched the highly acclaimed documentary, The Cove, and I found myself both deeply disturbed and deeply inspired... by things I didn't know, and by things I've known but ignored.
The documentary was created as an attempt to expose the atrocious dolphin slaughters occurring in Taiji, Japan, where about 23,000 are killed per year. It also points to the hypocrisy and cruelty of the captive dolphin industry and the dangers of mercury poisoning and overfishing to the future of our health and our oceans.
As I said, I had known about Taiji, but hadn't really educated myself. I've also known about the destruction of the oceans due to our inexhaustible demand for fish. This demand, if left unchecked, will lead to the collapse of our oceanic ecosystem, and much sooner than we think.
As a committed vegetarian, I could point out that the dolphin slaughters are easily comparable to factory farming in the United States. Hidden cameras there had the same profound effect upon my conscience and would surely equally shock film festival audiences. But why then, besides a brief stint a year ago, have I continued to consume seafood? How can I support the fishing industry in good conscience?
Growing up on the shores of Rhode Island (the Ocean State) the sea was my playground, my caretaker, and teacher. When I tortured my mother during the last hot months of her pregnancy, she floated in the sea for hours on end for relief. The soft rolling of the waves was my very first lullaby. Growing up by the sea, I learned to contemplate, respect, and love it. I believe the salt is in my blood.
It's difficult for me, however, to separate my idyllic memories of the sea from the smell of steaming clams, swordfish blackened on the grill, and flounder baked with buttery breadcrumbs. These things taste good, but as all things, they have a price. For me I think this price as become too high and I can no longer afford to enjoy these things. I can no longer support an industry that has been allowed to run wild.
I remember the first time I put a mask over my eyes and descended into the underwater world. I remember the first coral reef I ever laid my eyes upon, the schools of fish in technicolor and the seaweed dancing rhythmically beneath rolling swells. Now, I try to imagine descending in twenty years and finding it all destroyed.
A few weeks ago, I watched a short video which upset me enough to stop me from eating seafood. So far it has been a tentative cessation, but after watching The Cove, I've decided to make my New Year's Resolution: No More Seafood.
For those of you reading to learn about Korea, I am sorry this post is off topic. I am writing this now to draw attention to this well made, riveting and very worth while documentary, NOT to convince people to make decisions such as the one I have made. In fact, the documentary does not attempt to dissuade people from eating seafood. It is simply a causal connection I made on my own. One I think I have been trying to make for a long time. I am declaring my intentions publicly as a way to hold myself accountable.
As the film so aptly stated, you can either be one of two things "an activist or an inactivist" and though I feel I've lost my way somewhat this past year. I hope to remain the former.
To view the trailer or find more information please visit:
http://thecovemovie.com/
http://www.takepart.com/thecove
Below is the film synopsis, taken from the official website:
The Cove begins in Taiji, Japan, where former dolphin trainer Ric O’Barry has come to set things right after a long search for redemption. In the 1960s, it was O’Barry who captured and trained the 5 dolphins who played the title character in the international television sensation “Flipper.”
But his close relationship with those dolphins – the very dolphins who sparked a global fascination with trained sea mammals that continues to this day -- led O’Barry to a radical change of heart. One fateful day, a heartbroken Barry came to realize that these deeply sensitive, highly intelligent and self-aware creatures so beautifully adapted to life in the open ocean must never be subjected to human captivity again. This mission has brought him to Taiji, a town that appears to be devoted to the wonders and mysteries of the sleek, playful dolphins and whales that swim off their coast.
But in a remote, glistening cove, surrounded by barbed wire and “Keep Out” signs, lies a dark reality. It is here, under cover of night, that the fishermen of Taiji, driven by a multi-billion dollar dolphin entertainment industry and an underhanded market for mercury-tainted dolphin meat, engage in an unseen hunt. The nature of what they do is so chilling -- and the consequences are so dangerous to human health -- they will go to great lengths to halt anyone from seeing it.
Undeterred, O’Barry joins forces with filmmaker Louis Psihoyos and the Oceanic Preservation Society to get to the truth of what’s really going on in the cove and why it matters to everyone in the world. With the local Chief of Police hot on their trail and strong-arm fishermen keeping tabs on them, they will recruit an “Ocean's Eleven”-style team of underwater sound and camera experts, special effects artists, marine explorers, adrenaline junkies and world-class free divers who will carry out an undercover operation to photograph the off-limits cove, while playing a cloak-and-dagger game with those who would have them jailed. The result is a provocative mix of investigative journalism, eco-adventure and arresting imagery that adds up to an urgent plea for hope.
The documentary was created as an attempt to expose the atrocious dolphin slaughters occurring in Taiji, Japan, where about 23,000 are killed per year. It also points to the hypocrisy and cruelty of the captive dolphin industry and the dangers of mercury poisoning and overfishing to the future of our health and our oceans.
As I said, I had known about Taiji, but hadn't really educated myself. I've also known about the destruction of the oceans due to our inexhaustible demand for fish. This demand, if left unchecked, will lead to the collapse of our oceanic ecosystem, and much sooner than we think.
As a committed vegetarian, I could point out that the dolphin slaughters are easily comparable to factory farming in the United States. Hidden cameras there had the same profound effect upon my conscience and would surely equally shock film festival audiences. But why then, besides a brief stint a year ago, have I continued to consume seafood? How can I support the fishing industry in good conscience?
Growing up on the shores of Rhode Island (the Ocean State) the sea was my playground, my caretaker, and teacher. When I tortured my mother during the last hot months of her pregnancy, she floated in the sea for hours on end for relief. The soft rolling of the waves was my very first lullaby. Growing up by the sea, I learned to contemplate, respect, and love it. I believe the salt is in my blood.
It's difficult for me, however, to separate my idyllic memories of the sea from the smell of steaming clams, swordfish blackened on the grill, and flounder baked with buttery breadcrumbs. These things taste good, but as all things, they have a price. For me I think this price as become too high and I can no longer afford to enjoy these things. I can no longer support an industry that has been allowed to run wild.
I remember the first time I put a mask over my eyes and descended into the underwater world. I remember the first coral reef I ever laid my eyes upon, the schools of fish in technicolor and the seaweed dancing rhythmically beneath rolling swells. Now, I try to imagine descending in twenty years and finding it all destroyed.
A few weeks ago, I watched a short video which upset me enough to stop me from eating seafood. So far it has been a tentative cessation, but after watching The Cove, I've decided to make my New Year's Resolution: No More Seafood.
For those of you reading to learn about Korea, I am sorry this post is off topic. I am writing this now to draw attention to this well made, riveting and very worth while documentary, NOT to convince people to make decisions such as the one I have made. In fact, the documentary does not attempt to dissuade people from eating seafood. It is simply a causal connection I made on my own. One I think I have been trying to make for a long time. I am declaring my intentions publicly as a way to hold myself accountable.
As the film so aptly stated, you can either be one of two things "an activist or an inactivist" and though I feel I've lost my way somewhat this past year. I hope to remain the former.
To view the trailer or find more information please visit:
http://thecovemovie.com/
http://www.takepart.com/thecove
Below is the film synopsis, taken from the official website:
The Cove begins in Taiji, Japan, where former dolphin trainer Ric O’Barry has come to set things right after a long search for redemption. In the 1960s, it was O’Barry who captured and trained the 5 dolphins who played the title character in the international television sensation “Flipper.”
But his close relationship with those dolphins – the very dolphins who sparked a global fascination with trained sea mammals that continues to this day -- led O’Barry to a radical change of heart. One fateful day, a heartbroken Barry came to realize that these deeply sensitive, highly intelligent and self-aware creatures so beautifully adapted to life in the open ocean must never be subjected to human captivity again. This mission has brought him to Taiji, a town that appears to be devoted to the wonders and mysteries of the sleek, playful dolphins and whales that swim off their coast.
But in a remote, glistening cove, surrounded by barbed wire and “Keep Out” signs, lies a dark reality. It is here, under cover of night, that the fishermen of Taiji, driven by a multi-billion dollar dolphin entertainment industry and an underhanded market for mercury-tainted dolphin meat, engage in an unseen hunt. The nature of what they do is so chilling -- and the consequences are so dangerous to human health -- they will go to great lengths to halt anyone from seeing it.
Undeterred, O’Barry joins forces with filmmaker Louis Psihoyos and the Oceanic Preservation Society to get to the truth of what’s really going on in the cove and why it matters to everyone in the world. With the local Chief of Police hot on their trail and strong-arm fishermen keeping tabs on them, they will recruit an “Ocean's Eleven”-style team of underwater sound and camera experts, special effects artists, marine explorers, adrenaline junkies and world-class free divers who will carry out an undercover operation to photograph the off-limits cove, while playing a cloak-and-dagger game with those who would have them jailed. The result is a provocative mix of investigative journalism, eco-adventure and arresting imagery that adds up to an urgent plea for hope.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Annyeong Anyang!
Yesterday I went on my very first job interview in Korea. I must say that I vastly prefer the process over here. It felt a lot more like I was interviewing the school than the other way around.
Taking a step back, I previously wrote about my plans to continue living in Korea next year. I wanted to move to Bucheon or Anyang (satellite cities of Seoul not far from my current location), live with or near Lacy, and begin my contract in April so I'd have time to travel.
Joyce at Korvia Consulting did another phenomenal job finding me a placement meeting all of my conditions (which was not an easy task).
I received word that an elementary school in Anyang wanted to have an interview with me and replied that I could meet with them any day after school or on Saturday. The school decided that they wanted me to come earlier on a week day and informed Korvia that they would call my principal to request that I leave school early on the day of the interview. This was a little awkward for me, as I had turned down an offer to work a second year at my school, but apparently not a big deal in Korea. Imagine that... leaving work early to interview for another job - and not lying about it.
I arrived at Anyang Station and was greeted by a tiny woman in her thirties. Grace Park approached me with a large smile on her lovely face and led me on the very short walk to the school ( First + school is near the subway). After entering and slipping into our indoor shoes we went to meet the principal. Apparently Grace knows the former principal at my school and we both agreed he is the nicest man. She assured me that the principal at this school was very similar and she was right. The principal's character and sense of humor were immediately evident despite the fact that he didn't speak any English (Second + principal and coteacher are both wonderful).
We chatted about life in Korea over coffee and they expressed some concern over the fact that I would be leaving the country between contracts. They told me if they hired me and I did not return to Korea for some reason, their students would suffer for it. To be honest I hadn't even thought of this and all I could offer was my word, but when I assured them of my intent to return they immediately told me that they liked and trusted me ( Third + the school is willing to give me the benefit of the doubt and is relaxed).
There is an element of pageantry in the school interview process and I got the feeling that all they had really wanted was to get a look at me. They had my resume and recommendations already, but looks are very important in Korea, particularly when it comes to English Programs. Once I got the impression that I had passed this test (oh yes, they will tell you right to your face first thing) I pretty much knew it was in the bag.
Grace showed me the English classrooms, which were smaller than the one cavernous room I occupy now. She had seen my school and seemed very worried that I would be unhappy with the classrooms. They seemed lovely to me. Not only were they brimming with artwork and English storybooks, they wouldn't supply students with enough room to run around and hit each other like they do in my present classroom. I told her I thought the school was wonderful and would love to work with her and she told me that she and the principal liked me very much and she was sure they would hire me.
Then she walked me back to the station, took my hand and suggested we get dinner together over the winter break. I told her I would love to and she hugged me goodbye. Really, it was more of a love story than an interview. Ahhh Korea.
Today I accepted their job offer and will be signing a contract shortly. My start date is April 14th which gives me 5-6 weeks to travel Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos before beginning fresh in my new year in Seoul.
Taking a step back, I previously wrote about my plans to continue living in Korea next year. I wanted to move to Bucheon or Anyang (satellite cities of Seoul not far from my current location), live with or near Lacy, and begin my contract in April so I'd have time to travel.
Joyce at Korvia Consulting did another phenomenal job finding me a placement meeting all of my conditions (which was not an easy task).
I received word that an elementary school in Anyang wanted to have an interview with me and replied that I could meet with them any day after school or on Saturday. The school decided that they wanted me to come earlier on a week day and informed Korvia that they would call my principal to request that I leave school early on the day of the interview. This was a little awkward for me, as I had turned down an offer to work a second year at my school, but apparently not a big deal in Korea. Imagine that... leaving work early to interview for another job - and not lying about it.
I arrived at Anyang Station and was greeted by a tiny woman in her thirties. Grace Park approached me with a large smile on her lovely face and led me on the very short walk to the school ( First + school is near the subway). After entering and slipping into our indoor shoes we went to meet the principal. Apparently Grace knows the former principal at my school and we both agreed he is the nicest man. She assured me that the principal at this school was very similar and she was right. The principal's character and sense of humor were immediately evident despite the fact that he didn't speak any English (Second + principal and coteacher are both wonderful).
We chatted about life in Korea over coffee and they expressed some concern over the fact that I would be leaving the country between contracts. They told me if they hired me and I did not return to Korea for some reason, their students would suffer for it. To be honest I hadn't even thought of this and all I could offer was my word, but when I assured them of my intent to return they immediately told me that they liked and trusted me ( Third + the school is willing to give me the benefit of the doubt and is relaxed).
There is an element of pageantry in the school interview process and I got the feeling that all they had really wanted was to get a look at me. They had my resume and recommendations already, but looks are very important in Korea, particularly when it comes to English Programs. Once I got the impression that I had passed this test (oh yes, they will tell you right to your face first thing) I pretty much knew it was in the bag.
Grace showed me the English classrooms, which were smaller than the one cavernous room I occupy now. She had seen my school and seemed very worried that I would be unhappy with the classrooms. They seemed lovely to me. Not only were they brimming with artwork and English storybooks, they wouldn't supply students with enough room to run around and hit each other like they do in my present classroom. I told her I thought the school was wonderful and would love to work with her and she told me that she and the principal liked me very much and she was sure they would hire me.
Then she walked me back to the station, took my hand and suggested we get dinner together over the winter break. I told her I would love to and she hugged me goodbye. Really, it was more of a love story than an interview. Ahhh Korea.
Today I accepted their job offer and will be signing a contract shortly. My start date is April 14th which gives me 5-6 weeks to travel Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos before beginning fresh in my new year in Seoul.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
10 Things I'm Thankful for in Korea
better late than never.... here goes:
10. Being able to zone out or doodle during "meetings" at work and having a perfectly valid excuse (the meetings are in Korean)
9. No longer having to attend meetings at work because I just zone out while I'm there.
8. Being able to wear jeans and big comfy sweaters everyday to school, although I am not thankful that the school isn't heated.
7. Bibimbap - a big bowl of rice, vegetables, and spicy red paste available at nearly all Korean restaurants. Every vegetarian's best friend!
6. The old lady with the walker who I always pass on the way home from school. Every day she stops, gives me a huge grin, and starts speaking in Korea. I don't understand, so I just smile and say hello, but she never gives up.
5. My Friday third grade class. In the middle of a sea of inattentive, too cool, rowdy sixth grade classes, their enthusiastic little faces prevent me from having a break down.
4. Hongdae. Yes, I said it. I might be equally un-thankful for this nightlife hot spot, but those of you who know what I'm talking about, imagine life in Seoul without it...
3. Finally working up the courage to stop eating school lunch this semester. No, I don't like eating octopus tentacles and soup broth that's had beef (or who knows what) stewing in it all day. And unlike most Koreans I don't consider plain white rice and a side of kimchi a complete meal. I've come to terms with the fact that when you are permanently settled in a place, you can compromise between cultural immersion and personal well being.
2. Taiwan, Jeju, Tsushima, Thailand, the Philippines... Getting paid well in a secure job with great benefits - including ample vacation days.
and finally...
1. Taking a huge risk with the potential for colossal failure and ending up living a great adventure, making amazing friends, and loving it enough to stick around for another year.
10. Being able to zone out or doodle during "meetings" at work and having a perfectly valid excuse (the meetings are in Korean)
9. No longer having to attend meetings at work because I just zone out while I'm there.
8. Being able to wear jeans and big comfy sweaters everyday to school, although I am not thankful that the school isn't heated.
7. Bibimbap - a big bowl of rice, vegetables, and spicy red paste available at nearly all Korean restaurants. Every vegetarian's best friend!
6. The old lady with the walker who I always pass on the way home from school. Every day she stops, gives me a huge grin, and starts speaking in Korea. I don't understand, so I just smile and say hello, but she never gives up.
5. My Friday third grade class. In the middle of a sea of inattentive, too cool, rowdy sixth grade classes, their enthusiastic little faces prevent me from having a break down.
4. Hongdae. Yes, I said it. I might be equally un-thankful for this nightlife hot spot, but those of you who know what I'm talking about, imagine life in Seoul without it...
3. Finally working up the courage to stop eating school lunch this semester. No, I don't like eating octopus tentacles and soup broth that's had beef (or who knows what) stewing in it all day. And unlike most Koreans I don't consider plain white rice and a side of kimchi a complete meal. I've come to terms with the fact that when you are permanently settled in a place, you can compromise between cultural immersion and personal well being.
2. Taiwan, Jeju, Tsushima, Thailand, the Philippines... Getting paid well in a secure job with great benefits - including ample vacation days.
and finally...
1. Taking a huge risk with the potential for colossal failure and ending up living a great adventure, making amazing friends, and loving it enough to stick around for another year.
The Story of Thankgiving... as told by a Korean 4th grader
Answer to the writing prompt "Write your own story about what it would have been like if you were one of the Pilgrims on the Mayflower"
by So-young
"My ship is super and power ship so it was no cold, many food and everyone is happy but we meet a typhoon. Good fortune, we have a many life boat and life jacket and then save indian. Indian is very kind. I sad "we want a ground. can you give to ground for me?" indian sas "sure your my friend, okay we'll be a divide ground. But you don't raise war, okay?" I sas "Ok!" and then one piecese for mine and one pieces for indian. Indian and we're had a party. everyone play game, singing, eat food. and my one pieces ground me is...
United States of America
U.S.A.
-End-"
If only this were how it really happened.
by So-young
"My ship is super and power ship so it was no cold, many food and everyone is happy but we meet a typhoon. Good fortune, we have a many life boat and life jacket and then save indian. Indian is very kind. I sad "we want a ground. can you give to ground for me?" indian sas "sure your my friend, okay we'll be a divide ground. But you don't raise war, okay?" I sas "Ok!" and then one piecese for mine and one pieces for indian. Indian and we're had a party. everyone play game, singing, eat food. and my one pieces ground me is...
United States of America
U.S.A.
-End-"
If only this were how it really happened.
Friday, November 27, 2009
I know I post a lot of NYTimes stuff, but... Happy Thanksgiving!
Enjoy, it really captures how I'm feeling this Thanksgiving (and everyday)
November 26, 2009
New York Times Global Edition
Editorial
A Thanksgiving Toast
Sitting down with friends and family today, there will be thanks for the steady currents, flowing out of the past, that have brought us to this table. There will be thanks for the present union and reunion of us all. And there will be prayerful thanks for the future. But it’s worth raising a glass (or suspending a forkful for those of you who’ve gotten ahead of the toast) to be thankful for the unexpected, for all the ways that life interrupts and renews itself without warning.
What would our lives look like if they held only what we’d planned? Where would our wisdom or patience — or our hope — come from? How could we account for these new faces at the Thanksgiving table or for the faces we’re missing this holiday, missing perhaps now all these years?
It will never cease to surprise how the condition of being human means we cannot foretell with any accuracy what next Thanksgiving will bring. We can hope and imagine, and we can fear. But when next Thanksgiving rolls around, we’ll have to take account again, as we do today, of how the unexpected has shaped our lives. That will mean accounting for how it has enriched us, blessed us, with suffering as much as with joy.
That, perhaps, is what all this plenty is for, as you look down the table, to gather up the past and celebrate the present and open us to the future.
There is the short-term future, when there will be room for seconds. Then there is the longer term, a time for blossoming and ripening, for new friends, new family, new love, new hope. Most of what life contains comes to us unexpectedly after all. It is our job to welcome it and give it meaning. So let us toast what we cannot know and could not have guessed, and to the unexpected ways our lives will merge in Thanksgivings to come
November 26, 2009
New York Times Global Edition
Editorial
A Thanksgiving Toast
Sitting down with friends and family today, there will be thanks for the steady currents, flowing out of the past, that have brought us to this table. There will be thanks for the present union and reunion of us all. And there will be prayerful thanks for the future. But it’s worth raising a glass (or suspending a forkful for those of you who’ve gotten ahead of the toast) to be thankful for the unexpected, for all the ways that life interrupts and renews itself without warning.
What would our lives look like if they held only what we’d planned? Where would our wisdom or patience — or our hope — come from? How could we account for these new faces at the Thanksgiving table or for the faces we’re missing this holiday, missing perhaps now all these years?
It will never cease to surprise how the condition of being human means we cannot foretell with any accuracy what next Thanksgiving will bring. We can hope and imagine, and we can fear. But when next Thanksgiving rolls around, we’ll have to take account again, as we do today, of how the unexpected has shaped our lives. That will mean accounting for how it has enriched us, blessed us, with suffering as much as with joy.
That, perhaps, is what all this plenty is for, as you look down the table, to gather up the past and celebrate the present and open us to the future.
There is the short-term future, when there will be room for seconds. Then there is the longer term, a time for blossoming and ripening, for new friends, new family, new love, new hope. Most of what life contains comes to us unexpectedly after all. It is our job to welcome it and give it meaning. So let us toast what we cannot know and could not have guessed, and to the unexpected ways our lives will merge in Thanksgivings to come
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Seoraksan National Park
Seoraksan's dramatic face
Korea's rolling mountains
sitting Buddha
Mountain Temple
Fall foliage
Cave Temple
Resident monk
Falling leaf reflection
The ascent
The Summit
Red Peppers drying in the sun
Mountain meditations
Three wisemen in the forest
Leaves collecting on the water's surface
Cascading water
Forest paradise
Mountain Temple
Fall foliage
Cave Temple
Resident monk
Falling leaf reflection
The ascent
The Summit
Red Peppers drying in the sun
Mountain meditations
Three wisemen in the forest
Leaves collecting on the water's surface
Cascading water
Forest paradise
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
빼 빼 로 Day!
Today is 빼 빼 로 (Pepero) Day in Korea, a holiday managing to be just as lucrative for the Korean candy companies as Valentine's Day. The holiday, most likely started by mega corporation, Lotte, is celebrated by exchanging Pepero (a Lotte bran) sticks and other small gifts. A Pepero is a cookie stick dipped in chocolate and other toppings. The celebration came about as a clever marketing tool because the date 11/11 resembles the Pepero. I've come to learn that Koreans adore anything related to love and cutesy gifts, so it's not surprising that this holiday took off.
There is at least a dozen other holidays celebrating love and friendship in Korea. And stores having been showing elaborate Pepero displays for two weeks now. I loved watching the Korean men scramble to buy Pepero for the girlfriends last night. I'd love to see what would happen to the poor schmuck who managed to forget somehow.
I came to school this morning and was immediately swarmed with students flinging chocolate at me. Luckily, I came prepared with plenty of 빼 빼 로 to exchange. Check out my stash in the picture above. Assah!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
A cold breeze, a cup of tea, and a plan
Beautiful Boracay
More Boracay... be jealous (pics not mine, obviously)
Suri mountain, view from my window
Seoraksan National Park
Seoraksan (these pics not mine either, you'll see my version next week!)
It only took one night to go from walking to school with no jacket to wearing a winter coat. One night like any other in which the icy winds crept in replacing the gentle breeze with biting gusts. The cold weather brought something with it other than chills, however, it brought a nagging feeling that my year here was coming to a close and I needed to begin planning for the future.
If you know me at all, you know I am not a planner. A schemer, maybe. An impulsive day dreamer who dives headlong into recently concocted, half planned adventures...sure. It's my nature, so I go with it. Besides, it hasn't steered me wrong yet. Nevertheless, staying in Seoul requires some forethought and I am certain I want to remain where I am.
Sure, a huge part of me wants to move on and continue journeying. I can teach anywhere, right? Well, not with massive student loans breathing down my neck. The huge financial benefits of working in Seoul mean not only that I can pay off my debts, but that I can afford to travel all over Asia whenever I get the chance. Plus, I have a lot of friends here and I am only just starting to feel at home. There is more time to be put into Seoul.
The frigid winter winds also coerced me to start thinking about my winter vacation. Yes, that's right, two months after my last two week vacation I am planning the next (why is it I want to stay??). I found out I have 17 days off starting on Christmas Eve, not coincidentally the same 17 days that Lacy will be off work. So, we've booked a flight to the sunny blue skies and crystal clear waters of Boracay in the Philippines. Flights are cheap and the living is easy, so it was a simple decision.
We want a nice tropical vacation to take us away from the winter chill, but we also need to conserve cash. Why? Well here is next year's plan, still in the works:
After our vacation, winter camp begins. Between Christmas and the end of February, there is only a week and a half of regular classes, the rest being various English camps (and often half days). My contract ends at the end of February and I plan on switching to a new school so that I can get a shared apartment with Lacy who will also be staying another year. Living alone has definitely had its perks, but living far enough from my best friends that I don't get to see them during the week has been a bummer. Being able to come home and cook dinner with Lacy and take classes together will be such a nice change!
Another development is that we are trying to get a job beginning in April so that we can take our end of the year bonuses and go backpacking for a month in Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. We figure one of the huge advantages of our job is the flexibility and if we have the ability to do this we can't pass it up. How amazing it would be!! I'm crossing my fingers that it all works out.
So that is the plan, I mean scheme, as of right now. I'm working with a recruiter at the moment to make it all happen and until then I'll just keep living the dream.
Bringing it back to the present, we went on a teacher's hike today on Surisan (Suri Mountain). I thought a "teacher's hike" meant just going for a nature walk, but I was so very wrong. We scaled a beast of a mountain! As we climbed teachers began to drop out, but I was determined to prove yet again that foreigners are not inept, so not only was I going to the top, I was going to be one of the first to get there. Our principal led the way, I assume as a symbolic act, but even though he was the oldest one there, he could really move! After mistakenly believing I had arrived at the summit several times, only to turn and climb more, I made it to the top panting and sweating and was greeted with high fives and looks of astonishment (yes, foreigners can climb). Cell phones were whipped out for pictures, and celebratory cups of makkoli (a milky Korean rice wine) and fresh cucumbers were passed around to "rehydrate." And, even after nine months, they squealed with delight when I said "kamsamnida" (thank you) when they passed me a cup.
After the hike I had my Korean class and then I had to teach an evening class for second graders. At the moment I am exhausted and sore and a little worried about my stamina for this weekend's hiking trip to Seoraksan National Park. I'm excited to enjoy the outdoors in one of Korea's most beautiful areas, however, before winter sets in for good.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Heartbreakers
I just came back from watching my school's 4th Grade Talent Show wearing a huge smile. Not only is fourth grade the absolute best age to teach, most of my individual favorites come from that grade as well. They are still unaffected by the insecurities of puberty but they're old enough to joke around with me and make me laugh.
The half dozen recorder performances were as to be expected... inhumane, but there were some great song and dance routines to all the current KPop. Of course there was a taekwondo performance (for all you non-Koreans its pronounced TAY-kwondo, not THAI-kwondo) in which the students broke boards with their hands. I felt the boards after and I must say, I was pretty impressed. To cap it off was a little piano prodigy.
My absolute favorite, however... by far... was the three boys who did a jump rope dance routine (that's right) to KPop favorite, Heart breaker. Not only was it original, they were unbelievably good at it. I really hope they weren't forced into hours of practice for weeks on end by overeager parents. They really seemed to enjoy it, so I'm thinking not. My heart didn't break, it melted. Once again, I love my job. If only I had brought my camera!!
The half dozen recorder performances were as to be expected... inhumane, but there were some great song and dance routines to all the current KPop. Of course there was a taekwondo performance (for all you non-Koreans its pronounced TAY-kwondo, not THAI-kwondo) in which the students broke boards with their hands. I felt the boards after and I must say, I was pretty impressed. To cap it off was a little piano prodigy.
My absolute favorite, however... by far... was the three boys who did a jump rope dance routine (that's right) to KPop favorite, Heart breaker. Not only was it original, they were unbelievably good at it. I really hope they weren't forced into hours of practice for weeks on end by overeager parents. They really seemed to enjoy it, so I'm thinking not. My heart didn't break, it melted. Once again, I love my job. If only I had brought my camera!!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Perhaps a little harsh, but an interesting article on race in Korea.
New York Times Article - Race in Korea
New York Times Article - Race in Korea
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
