Unemployed, homeless, and loving it
After getting paid, I decided to go ahead and say goodbye to the wee ones anyway. I'm so glad I did, and it gave me a whole lot of closure on that end: "If your mom gets better, will you come back to Korea?" "I'll try, buddy. You'll be the first person I call, ok?" I was able to squeeze in one last game of musical chairs, and showed the new guy how to control ten amazingly hyperactive kids during the once-weekly recess period they're permitted (all work and no play retards Jack-san's social development). After drying my eyes and eating a burrito, I hopped on the first and fastest (300 km/h) train out of town.
I spent the first four nights at a hostel in Busan. Made good buddies with this 41 year old Scottish retiree who's living in India right now - doing absolutely nothing. The last night in Busan was a laugh riot. I made buddies with this guy who is new to Korea. You can talk Brits, backpackers, and especially British backpackers into having a ridiculous evening when in a new country just for its own sake. Started at the Busan foreigner district, which has recently transformed just to the Russian district. In Korea, "Russian" is synonymous with "whore" (with apologies my palindromically-named amiga who reads this who might take especial offense). There were so many Russian whores, and Korean peroxide blondes trying to keep up, that we got pretty sketched out and bolted before we even finished round one. Round two through something were over this one neon district. Spoke Korean to a waiter wearing a Scream mask, which did not help us understand one another. We found ourselves at this "hof" which is a German derived Korean word (indigenously pronounced "hope") for beer + mandatory complimentary food items. There was some confusion with the waiter, so we ended up having dried fish, a bowl of peaches, and a pitcher of beer. It was quite an absurd cocktail, and we really weren't in the mood for the fish (or the peaches). I talked my new friend, somehow, into putting dried fish into his breast pocket and wooing (rather attempting to woo) the local women: "lady, our gift please have." They were suitably put off, but it did help us make buddies with our cabby later on. We bonded over dried fish and some ten minute story about somebody sometime getting punched in the face. My "yesses" (in Korean, "nay," which is complicated) must've been well-timed because he kept going on and on and on much to his own (and our) delight. The night ended at a karaoke type place called "Kenny Rogers," bearing his iconic bearded goodness everywhere.
Sunday I flew into Jeju Island, a charming, isolated place that cohosted the 2002 World Cup. People outside of Seoul are especially friendly, I'm finding. Every tenth person on the street wants to say "hello" and chat. To the very little kids who shout, in Korean, "foreign person!" I enjoy saddling up to them and saying "Little brother, hello. Me foreign person I am? No, I'm a Korean person." They inevitably hide behind their parents, but the parents really enjoy it. Seoul is like an Oriental New York. But, now I really feel like I'm in fuckin' Asia. It's bizarre and I'm loving it. I've slept on the floor - at least in a private room - for the last couple nights. When the owner of the "(love) motel" moved me in, he wanted to practice his English. "USA?" "Yeah, [Korean for "I'm an American"]" "[English] North Korea... bang bang. USA [thumbs up] ... USA number one!" I was the only Westerner on the plane here, out of probably three hundred people in total. And, yet, 40% of all the airplane business was still conducted in English. The entire thank-you-for-flying bit was done in English, which was odd. At this moment, I haven't even seen another white person for almost 48 hours. I did have a conversation yesterday with a black dude from Philly at this temple, but the no-whitey streak is still alive.
Last night in Jeju, I had a tasty meal as all meals tend to be so far in Korea (except for a "cold noodle soup" that I ordered a month ago; I didn't know that it would have chunks of ice in it). When I ordered my meal in Korean ("sea product mixed with rice"), the waitress - in English - was very complimentary toward my pronunciation of Korean. I asked what places were worthwhile visiting at night. She was very happy to tell me, and circled all the places on the map nearby that I should visit. Then, after awhile, she asked if she could show me personally. "Can I show you where to go?" "Of course!" "Thank you! It will be my honor!" "Umm... you're welcome? When do you get off work?" "When you finish your meal," which she then proceeded to watch me finish. She'd never had a real conversation in English with another foreigner, despite having studied English (on her own) for the past six years or so. Though all her previous interactions with whities in the restaurant had been strictly business, it's not too hard to befriend the dude trekking around a strange country with a working lexicon mostly consisting of pleasantries. Though, I can do a little better than that. Even though I've been a little lazy with the language study, I'm can see oodles of progress. This girl's mom owns the restaurant, and was also working. As we were saying goodbye, the mother said to me, in Korean, "you (something) handsome face." And then I turned to her daughter, and said, in Korean, "you have a beautiful mom." The mom was pretty keen on that, though she did call to check up on her 24 year old daughter a few hours later.
After a couple hours of walking around, followed by drinks, reciprocal English/Korean lessons, and more walking around, this Onion article feels applicable:
http://www.theonion.com/content/node/54114
I'm hobbling around at this moment, since I screwed up my foot running in Busan (Feels like a stress fracture, which I've had before and am not too excited about). Kerry Strugging around has kinda bummed me out, since I had plans to go running atop the volcanic mountain that formed Jeju Island. My lady friend, "Young-Jew," awaked me this morning with this text message: "it's bright day. feel the cool autume breeze. how are your legs?" [despite the cruel Asian boss of months past, compassion does exist in Korea]
Tonight (Halloween night), I'm taking the 12 hour overnight ferry back into Busan. Then I'll immediately get on another ferry and go to Fukuoka, Japan, where I need to go to get another visa. So, for Halloween this year I'm going to be a vagabond, which at least won't require any costumes. I hope to be back in Oriental New York by this weekend, but we'll see if it actually happens.
The best part about being unemployed and homeless: watching the World Series in the morning, in pajama pants, with a beer, and successfully defending myself against Brits, Frogs, and Aussies who think that "World" series is a bit of a misnomer. Another six days before I have a room of my own, in a highrise apartment likely somewhere between the 8th and 16th floors.
xox, MH
I spent the first four nights at a hostel in Busan. Made good buddies with this 41 year old Scottish retiree who's living in India right now - doing absolutely nothing. The last night in Busan was a laugh riot. I made buddies with this guy who is new to Korea. You can talk Brits, backpackers, and especially British backpackers into having a ridiculous evening when in a new country just for its own sake. Started at the Busan foreigner district, which has recently transformed just to the Russian district. In Korea, "Russian" is synonymous with "whore" (with apologies my palindromically-named amiga who reads this who might take especial offense). There were so many Russian whores, and Korean peroxide blondes trying to keep up, that we got pretty sketched out and bolted before we even finished round one. Round two through something were over this one neon district. Spoke Korean to a waiter wearing a Scream mask, which did not help us understand one another. We found ourselves at this "hof" which is a German derived Korean word (indigenously pronounced "hope") for beer + mandatory complimentary food items. There was some confusion with the waiter, so we ended up having dried fish, a bowl of peaches, and a pitcher of beer. It was quite an absurd cocktail, and we really weren't in the mood for the fish (or the peaches). I talked my new friend, somehow, into putting dried fish into his breast pocket and wooing (rather attempting to woo) the local women: "lady, our gift please have." They were suitably put off, but it did help us make buddies with our cabby later on. We bonded over dried fish and some ten minute story about somebody sometime getting punched in the face. My "yesses" (in Korean, "nay," which is complicated) must've been well-timed because he kept going on and on and on much to his own (and our) delight. The night ended at a karaoke type place called "Kenny Rogers," bearing his iconic bearded goodness everywhere.
Sunday I flew into Jeju Island, a charming, isolated place that cohosted the 2002 World Cup. People outside of Seoul are especially friendly, I'm finding. Every tenth person on the street wants to say "hello" and chat. To the very little kids who shout, in Korean, "foreign person!" I enjoy saddling up to them and saying "Little brother, hello. Me foreign person I am? No, I'm a Korean person." They inevitably hide behind their parents, but the parents really enjoy it. Seoul is like an Oriental New York. But, now I really feel like I'm in fuckin' Asia. It's bizarre and I'm loving it. I've slept on the floor - at least in a private room - for the last couple nights. When the owner of the "(love) motel" moved me in, he wanted to practice his English. "USA?" "Yeah, [Korean for "I'm an American"]" "[English] North Korea... bang bang. USA [thumbs up] ... USA number one!" I was the only Westerner on the plane here, out of probably three hundred people in total. And, yet, 40% of all the airplane business was still conducted in English. The entire thank-you-for-flying bit was done in English, which was odd. At this moment, I haven't even seen another white person for almost 48 hours. I did have a conversation yesterday with a black dude from Philly at this temple, but the no-whitey streak is still alive.
Last night in Jeju, I had a tasty meal as all meals tend to be so far in Korea (except for a "cold noodle soup" that I ordered a month ago; I didn't know that it would have chunks of ice in it). When I ordered my meal in Korean ("sea product mixed with rice"), the waitress - in English - was very complimentary toward my pronunciation of Korean. I asked what places were worthwhile visiting at night. She was very happy to tell me, and circled all the places on the map nearby that I should visit. Then, after awhile, she asked if she could show me personally. "Can I show you where to go?" "Of course!" "Thank you! It will be my honor!" "Umm... you're welcome? When do you get off work?" "When you finish your meal," which she then proceeded to watch me finish. She'd never had a real conversation in English with another foreigner, despite having studied English (on her own) for the past six years or so. Though all her previous interactions with whities in the restaurant had been strictly business, it's not too hard to befriend the dude trekking around a strange country with a working lexicon mostly consisting of pleasantries. Though, I can do a little better than that. Even though I've been a little lazy with the language study, I'm can see oodles of progress. This girl's mom owns the restaurant, and was also working. As we were saying goodbye, the mother said to me, in Korean, "you (something) handsome face." And then I turned to her daughter, and said, in Korean, "you have a beautiful mom." The mom was pretty keen on that, though she did call to check up on her 24 year old daughter a few hours later.
After a couple hours of walking around, followed by drinks, reciprocal English/Korean lessons, and more walking around, this Onion article feels applicable:
http://www.theonion.com/content/node/54114
I'm hobbling around at this moment, since I screwed up my foot running in Busan (Feels like a stress fracture, which I've had before and am not too excited about). Kerry Strugging around has kinda bummed me out, since I had plans to go running atop the volcanic mountain that formed Jeju Island. My lady friend, "Young-Jew," awaked me this morning with this text message: "it's bright day. feel the cool autume breeze. how are your legs?" [despite the cruel Asian boss of months past, compassion does exist in Korea]
Tonight (Halloween night), I'm taking the 12 hour overnight ferry back into Busan. Then I'll immediately get on another ferry and go to Fukuoka, Japan, where I need to go to get another visa. So, for Halloween this year I'm going to be a vagabond, which at least won't require any costumes. I hope to be back in Oriental New York by this weekend, but we'll see if it actually happens.
The best part about being unemployed and homeless: watching the World Series in the morning, in pajama pants, with a beer, and successfully defending myself against Brits, Frogs, and Aussies who think that "World" series is a bit of a misnomer. Another six days before I have a room of my own, in a highrise apartment likely somewhere between the 8th and 16th floors.
xox, MH
posted by Mark Hernandef at 2:03 PM
8 Comments:
Great times! Do Koreans eat sashimi? Do you? I could live on the stuff! Kimchee leaves me cold.
I ate Korean food yesterday and threw some pickled cabbage on the ground in your honor. Good luck in the heart of yellowness.
GDH
Yay, sort of date!
Yay, sort of date!
Yay, double-post!
tptw: I had sashimi for the first time in Japan. I miss kimchi when I go a meal without it. Sad, but true.
Gdh: I'll assume that's out of reverence for your homies. What'd ya have?
Val: yay, indeed.
As for me, I'm back on the penis-shaped peninsula, and couldn't more glad of it. (incidentally, Koreans feel an odd kinship bond with Paraguay, for they consider its shape to be "like the pubic region of a woman")
Yeah, the Russian area is usually where the whores are. A proud culture I come from...
Have you been talking to your buddy while in Japan?
-alla
Alla: Sorry, the Russian whores (quasiwhores this time) seem to be making regular cameos on this blog. Good times. The buddy is ok. We text every now and then, but it ain't nothin'.
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