I'm bad at putting up pictures here. And since getting here last night, I haven't found anything particularly picture worthy. They will appear though, little by little.
What is "here?" First it was the Incheon airport outside of Seoul, a 12-hour flight from San Francisco. Then it was a 3-hour night bus ride to Daejeon during which we glimpsed the rainbow-colored neon lights of Seoul and little else. My jet-lagged journal scribbles go a little like this:
I'm close to 25 and I still find myself on a group-organized, structured, middle-school like bus ride. We could be going to camp. Or a field trip to the zoo. But no, we are a collection of Westerners, mostly Americans, jetlagged, sleepy, newly arrived to a tiny Asian peninsula, racing on a freeway. Quite a different experience from being the only non-Bulgarian on a Eurolines bus. In a way, it's sort of comforting to know that I can fit both experiences within a short span of time, choosing one over the other. But yes, strangely, my last extended bus journey was Sofia-Paris, last June, before the Paris Critical Mass ride. I almost feel a sort of regression. From total unknown, unexplored territory to a predictable environment. How is that possible, in the Far East? I'm sure it will in fact change a lot and very soon.
We couldn't eat anything until after 11 this morning (!) because we had a medical check-up, complete with piss and blood test. Pretty invasive, and unlike in France, we didn't get to keep our chest X-rays!
Also, unlike in France - people are nice. Koreans are nice. They smile and ask how you are. They seem to want us here. I certainly welcome this change.
In the next few entries, I plan to write some thoughts about women, privilege and travel.
Now, off to more orientation business.
What is "here?" First it was the Incheon airport outside of Seoul, a 12-hour flight from San Francisco. Then it was a 3-hour night bus ride to Daejeon during which we glimpsed the rainbow-colored neon lights of Seoul and little else. My jet-lagged journal scribbles go a little like this:
I'm close to 25 and I still find myself on a group-organized, structured, middle-school like bus ride. We could be going to camp. Or a field trip to the zoo. But no, we are a collection of Westerners, mostly Americans, jetlagged, sleepy, newly arrived to a tiny Asian peninsula, racing on a freeway. Quite a different experience from being the only non-Bulgarian on a Eurolines bus. In a way, it's sort of comforting to know that I can fit both experiences within a short span of time, choosing one over the other. But yes, strangely, my last extended bus journey was Sofia-Paris, last June, before the Paris Critical Mass ride. I almost feel a sort of regression. From total unknown, unexplored territory to a predictable environment. How is that possible, in the Far East? I'm sure it will in fact change a lot and very soon.
We couldn't eat anything until after 11 this morning (!) because we had a medical check-up, complete with piss and blood test. Pretty invasive, and unlike in France, we didn't get to keep our chest X-rays!
Also, unlike in France - people are nice. Koreans are nice. They smile and ask how you are. They seem to want us here. I certainly welcome this change.
In the next few entries, I plan to write some thoughts about women, privilege and travel.
Now, off to more orientation business.
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