Summer's End and the First Chuseok

I haven't written anything in a while, either online or in my journal. So I can't really cover everything that's gone down. But I should try.

My dream of doing an in depth study of the Sabuk uprising, in video or written form, may have to be a dream deferred. I was really excited about it for a while, after I and my Korean school friend met a local artist and a member of the historical society. I was looking forward to staying another year in Sabuk, learning even more. But that was back in September, before I learned the following:

Gangwondo is cutting positions, including mine, and apparently I don't have the greatest standing at my school. I don't know why. So instead of trying to transfer somewhere in the province, I'm changing once again. There's a distinct possibility of moving to Jeollanam province - home of the green tea fields, the Yeosu Expo, bamboo, Mokpo friends, Jirisan National Park, at least two beautiful ancient temples and of course Gwangju. Besides Jeju, where I'm not quite ready to move, Jeollanam is the most beautiful and positive energy giving place I've yet seen in Korea. Of course, I haven't seen the entire mid to southwestern section so who knows what else could be waiting for me? In any case, Jeollanam could be the new frontier come April 2013 and I'm happy to set my sights there.

Winter basically began here at the end of October. The leaves are still lovely shades of red, orange, yellow in many parts, but the cold is biting in the morning and at night, after the sun sets at around 5:30 p.m. That's another reason I want to get out - sure, the ski resort is great and all, but I like to be outside just for the hell of it, no ridiculous gear, nothing fancy. It's getting harsher than 5 Boston winters in these parts nowadays.

After summer vacation on Jeju, the second semester started out strong. My conversation class is going well and I'm making a horror comedy movie with six students, which is pretty fun and rewarding. Yet, I'm tired of the incredible amounts of deskwarming - sitting by myself in my classroom after planning all my lessons. It's gotten to the point where I have trouble looking forward to the 5-day week. I quit Taekwando because I couldn't deal with the environment so there is really nothing much going on most nights, which means I take the initiative to read, go to the gym, cook and anything else associated with winter hibernation. It's good practice, except I hope my future doesn't hold me living alone for many years to come.

The constant weekend travelling is wearing me down, but I need it to make up for the relative isolation of the weekdays. Two days out of seven is just no longer enough to cover my restlessness, my thirst for adventure, working with my hands and connecting with community instead of idling away on the computer. Here are the enjoyable adventures and their aftereffects:

August 25-26 Guinsa Templestay

Buddhist templestays for tourists, expats and some Koreans are a big thing here. One of the youngest, but biggest temples in the country is Guinsa, near Danyang, headquarters of the Cheontae order of Buddhism. My Japanese WWOOF friend, who left Korea soon after, and my South African Wonju friend and her coteacher spontaneously chose this unusually hot, sticky weekend for our first experience. Guinsa really stands out because the monks and laypeople often pray from 10 p.m. - 3 a.m. I would get a taste of that one month later, but for now that was our sleep time and the rest was made up of walking, bowing, making lanterns, eating and taking tea with the proud, confident English-speaking female monk.

Japanese lady was really feeling the strain of Seoul and she seemed grateful for this retreat. After nearing the edge of self-destruction the previous weekend myself, I was also more than happy to revive myself again. We looked at the stars from the balcony way up high on the hill and we realized we felt close to the stars because we are made from them. At 3 a.m. we took a hike up to light candles in a special morning ceremony and saw the magnificent sunrise above the mountains in the valley below. After leaving Guinsa, we drove down the lovely winding road to Danyang, full of greenery. We walked and took tea in Danyang, a truly beautiful little city that I would revisit again. We said goodbye as she boarded the bus back to Seoul and I knew that we would meet again, but that life in Korea would be that much less fun with one less person to share experiences. No matter, I make my own fun nonetheless.

September 1-2 Seoul Hardcore 

The end of summer brought a huge typhoon and all of Korea got hit in one way or another. There was supposed to be a reggae festival an hour from my town, but it got rained out. The other teacher in Sabuk was going back home to San Francisco and for the first time and his last weekend in Korea, we hung out in Seoul. Not only that, but we were in a totally new part of Seoul - Mullae Arts Village, south of the Han River on the Hongdae side, with a winding alley maze of industrial and craft warehouses. And in a basement we joined Korean and foreign punks for a short but lively hardcore show. It was just like being back in an alternative scene in the city, with bikes and basements and cigarettes and beer and warm summer nights. A slice of another life, hardly ever happens nowadays.

I ended up in Mullae because a Korean girl from Couchsurfing invited me to meet her and her travelling Swedish mate. It was nice to be back among anarchists, travellers, musicians. The Swedish guy with a blonde mustache proceeded to get drunker and drunker as our night moved to the familiar outdoor Hongdae club and sitting on a wall outside. I didn't want this partying until 4 a.m. thing again, because I was hardly even partying, but it was nice anyway. I made a new friend.

Amazingly, on Sunday morning I rallied for helping out at Hansol Farm again. Tired and slightly hung over, it was still a beautiful sunny day and a nice quiet train ride out east to Namyangju. The typhoon had hit the chicken houses hard and they needed hands to build them up again. I love this place and have now been there four times. Just being there brings me hope.

Enjoying a swim in the Hansol River. Photo by Kota Fukuyama, WWOOF Korea.

September 8-9 Korea Burn

Reluctant to miss another Group WWOOF weekend, I nevertheless decided to brave a post-typhoon rain to go camp in the trees by beautiful Gijipo Beach on the western Chungcheonnamdo coast. Luckily, it didn't rain for the rest of the weekend. It was the first time I had seen a really natural beach in Korea, the water was still warm enough for swimming and it felt like summer wasn't ending yet. With little to no drugs, plenty of booze, body paint, costumes, DIY tents, mostly crappy DJ music and a not-so-successful burning of the wooden men, hundreds of almost all foreigners proceeded to fuck up the beach for a couple days. Though by the next morning, we had done a decent job of getting our surroundings back into place, I'm sure the passing Korean couples and families were pretty taken aback by the half nudity and other debauchery. I'm also sure that Korea Burning Man is mild compared to any others anywhere else in the world.

New Korean friend and Swedish travelling man were back in action, enjoying what seemed to be their last weekend before he headed off to New Zealand. We took walks, enjoyed the beautiful sunset, cooking on the camping stove, dancing, discussing. But I wasn't camping with them - I joined with lady English teachers, all of whom were nice company and it was an overall good time. I wish there were more Koreans and I wish the feeling of "being on holiday" as English lady said could last longer. As at Jisan, it was crazy to see all the different expats, this small fraction of an already small non-Korean village spread out all over the country. Some people have tattoos all up and down their body, which they have to keep covered up during the day. In Korea, I somehow have this strong sense that if you're not actively out to meet Koreans, you can hardly choose your friends. You have to find the best of what you can in the people around you because our village is not infinite. That's why I prefer to dip into the larger pool around our village, but I can't say I've been entirely successful in that.

September 15-16 Namyangju Slow Food Conference 

Slow Food Korea and WWOOF Korea are connected, both working to promote fresh local food and Korea's organic and natural farming traditions. They work to connect with people from all over Asia and around the world. I got up hellishly early on a Saturday morning to catch a bus out to Seoul and then to volunteer at the conference, but once I was there, I enjoyed it. I met a lot of Korean university students, older volunteers and I learned about the Korean Beautiful Store, which sells cheap used clothes and other goodies. A nice find. We had a beautiful dinner, stayed at a lovely house rented by elderly residents with their own gardens and enjoyed the beautiful surroundings of Namyangju, the organic farming center of Korea and maybe Asia. Of course, I had to leave far too early on Sunday because I live out in the non-farming sticks. But just before leaving, I bumped into the Hansol farmers, making it all worthwhile.

The thing about it is, as I've discussed with the WWOOF manager, Korea is very much about showing the best side of itself and that means huge museums, theme parks and fancy expos, even when it comes to something as supposedly pure and natural as working the land. Money rules everything here and nowadays people have to fight for the alternative to the money economy. As the crisis hasn't yet hit Korea - at least not on the same level as elsewhere in the world - many people aren't necessarily interested in seeking out free resources and mutual aid. As this is somewhat built into the culture itself, it definitely hasn't disappeared and in fact exists on a deeper level than in Western society. But despite all Korea's work to promote its culture on a large scale, it seems to accomplish this through sleekness and attempts to hide anything that is a bit messy, the reality of everyday life. Marching forward into the future, stamping out relics from the past, while still proudly upholding thousands of years of culture. An interesting contradiction, I think.

September 22-23 Hwaeomsa Temple, Gucheon Hermitage Tea Planting 

An absolutely gorgeous sunny late summer weekend. I slept at Siloam, a really nice jimjilbang near Seoul Station, the biggest transport hub in the city. They have separate dark sleeping bunks - always nice to find one of those. It comes to my attention that I've only tried the nicest jimjilbangs, the ones in Seoul, and so may have a positively skewed idea of what these places are like. They've definitely become a routine fixture on my travelling route though.

Back to Jeollanam, back to Group WWOOFing. Early on Saturday, four of us, including a US lady soldier at Yongsan base, took what seemed an interminable train down to Gurye, an incredibly beautiful place and home of Hwaeomsa, surely one of the oldest and most lovely temples in Korea. I unfortunately have had ridiculous phone and camera troubles, so I didn't snap any shots. But not to worry, if I live in Jeolla next year, I'll be sure to visit this place again and again! It's really amazing that they chose to be a WWOOF host because it means that people can have two experiences in one. When we finally arrived, after waiting at the train station and a car ride down a beautiful tree-lined road to the gates of the temple, we were met with an atmosphere of near complete tranquility and natural splendor. I say near tranquility because we were in for a surprise - the temple adopted a little boy, 7 or 8 years old, the most outgoing and enthusiastic child I have ever met in Korea. So he lives there, among the monks, but attends a regular school and has regular kid things like video games. But his life seems like it will be so fulfilling, despite an occasional sadness at the lack of actual parents. His makeshift family is extensive and loving.

We were also met with the other WWOOFers who had arrived the day before, wishing we could have come earlier! They had spent the day picking wild mushrooms (!) and now we were preparing for lunch and picking tea seeds for the next day's planting. We put on some pouches and like kangaroos with big straw hats went after the tea plants on the hill.  Now that I write this, I should have asked more questions about seed saving. Need to get back on that mission soon! But regardless, we had an incredible view from our perch in the tea field and our time passed quickly. That night, we drove to another incredible temple actually carved into the side of a rock and we caught a nightime view of the entire Gurye valley. We took a long, luxurious tea with the male and female monk and talked of Buddhism and our different lives. I felt uncomfortable when it got to sitting up straight and meditating and discussing our bodies and being touched, but that didn't dampen my mood.

Picking tea seeds. Photo by Shirley Lin

Sunday, we rose early and watched the sun rise fully into its golden glow as we took tea with the monks for the second time. It was planting day and armed with nothing but round green seeds and basic tools, we covered the perimeter of the gardens and up and down the steps. I don't know exactly how long it will take for the white tea plants to bloom, but I want to be there to see the change, the displacement of the artificial fences in favor of these natural ones.

Our last stop was the Gurye open-air market. Jeolla has such a different vibe from Gangwon, it's hard to put a finger on it. The people are tanner, the market is livelier, the seafood and fruit are more plentiful. The poor little boy, so happy to sing and dance Gangnam Style with us before was left behind after a trip to the bathroom. As we sauntered happily through the market, he sat lonely and crying in the parking lot. He was angry, but a lollipop seemed to cheer him up. I wish I had been more adamant about staying longer, as I ended up taking a late bus back from Seoul anyway, but lady soldier and I missed another incredible trip somewhere as we took an earlier bus back. Yeah, I can't wait to go back there...I was meaning to go during Chuseok but decided to keep my promise to return to Guinsa instead.

I had a quiet dinner by myself for my second visit at the 빙가게 "Empty House" cafe, a place that was listed in Slingshot as a radical space in Korea. It's funny how gung-ho I was in the beginning to find this or other spaces, but WWOOF and Jeju - farming and nature - have turned out to be the most subversive things I've done, if you can call them that. It's fitting. It is. 

September 29 - October 3 Chuseok - Korean Thanksgiving

For the first time off since summer that was longer than 2 days, I managed to go overboard and outdo myself with activity. Chuseok is prime family time for Koreans so of course the roads are absolutely packed, mostly with traffic in and out of Seoul.

Besides a one-night, one day farmstay back at Guinsa, I didn't have many plans so I was bursting to get in something super cool, fun, interesting, exciting rarara. On Saturday, I ended up training it all the way to Gangneung to cycle and meet the Korean friend for the third time. She turned out to come late - due to the aforementioned traffic situation - and we ended up not watching the art cinema movie we had planned. I did manage to finally find the Gangneung Cinematheque, thanks to another impromptu find, the new Fair Trade Coffee place tucked in an alleyway a block over from an open market. I practiced my paltry Korean with the store owner, a member of the cinematheque, and after getting lost I went back there and he walked me to the place, which is on the 4th floor of a building on the main street of the city, around Home Plus and all that. Finally, I met my friend as her bus arrived at the terminal and we went back to Fair Trade Coffee - yes, for a third time that day - but soon I was leaving Gangneung...on the empty evening express bus to Seoul.

WWOOF friends had planned an all-day Sunday hike to the top of Bukhansan for a birthday. Even though this invite came last minute on Friday night and even though it meant a ridiculous Saturday, I went for it anyway. Glad I did. We couldn't believe there was a huge rocky mountain range in northwest Seoul, right in the city, but there it was, and it rises up just minutes walk from the Dokbawi station, past some gardens. As we climbed higher and higher, it was nothing but rock! The view of Seoul got smaller and more expansive and we napped on a big ledge. Makkeoli and kimbap were had and eventually we found an impromptu ajeosshi who showed us places where North Koreans tried to get through to assassinate former president Park Chung-hee. The sun was setting as we made our way down. It was a tiring hike to be sure, but seriously rewarding. It's funny that you mostly see middle-aged and elderly Korean hikers on the mountains - I guess the younger generation prefers computer games. Bummer. Back on lower ground, we enjoyed a birthday dinner and drinks at the WWOOF Korea Guesthouse with a visiting Japanese friend before heading off to our respective sleeping places - me and the birthday guy, a longterm WWOOFer checked out the closest jimjilbang. Its name escapes me but it's not a far taxi ride from Anguk Station and it's relatively clean and fancy.

View of Seoul from Bukhansan. Photo by Ryoko Okazaki

It was my first time to stay at a jimjilbang with someone else, but the next morning, he was already back on the road to the farm so I packed up and stepped out into the Monday post-Chuseok sunshine, myself back on the road - 3.5 hours to Guinsa. At least it was supposed to be 3.5 hours, it must have been a bit longer given the crazy traffic. It was hot and sticky on the bus and I was almost regretting my decision. But once we got up to the temple, it was late afternoon and the temperature was much cooler from a month before. I was glad to be there. In retrospect though, I wish I hadn't gone alone. I was walking around by myself before dinner and evening prayer, of course the only non-Korean in sight and people were commenting and pointing at me. It was OK but I was more self-conscious than usual and already not rested enough for the long night that lay ahead. Dinner with the monks in the smaller cafeteria was very nice and I should have been more friendly. I was feeling overwhelmed already and not wanting all the attention.

Two of the female monks had me over for coffee, followed by an hour-long chanting with the head monk in a large public hall, with men and women. It was the only time throughout the night that I managed a full hour of Kwan Seum Bosal (meaning the Buddha) chanting. I really love the more varied chants, such as this one:Kwan Seum Bosal Buddhist Chanting but from every part of the Guinsa complex, at any given time you hear the rising "Kwan Seum Bosal" repeated litany coming from inside the prayer halls. From the outside, it's actually very beautiful and haunting. Inside the women's hall, where we rested and chanted together, you can hear the cacophony of female voices, old and young, making the Kwan Seum Bosal nearly lost in the sound. For the laypeople people here, this is undoubtedly a peaceful respite from daily life, but for me as a first-timer to the intensive chanting, it was difficult to find peace. From 10 to midnight, a female monk gave a full 2 hour speech on the Chuseok holiday. Many of us dozed off during this time, only to begin the chanting again nonstop from 12-3. This was a totally unique experience for me and one that is hard to find anywhere else. I was appreciative of the women who took the time to help me and I felt welcomed.

The next morning, I had to rush to get breakfast and join female monks for the ride to the farm. Arriving at the meeting spot and on the bus, I again felt overwhelmed by the attention but also charmed by the beauty of these awesome hard-working women. As I would soon see with my own eyes, Guinsa grows all its own food - rice, soybeans, garlic, peppers, cabbage, everything. Some female monks at a lower level work in the immense public cafeteria and some work daily on the farm. It was a bright, clear Tuesday and we peeled bunches of garlic all day from 7 - 4:30, with lunch and snack breaks. Surrounded by green mountains and field, I watched and interacted with these strong, joyous, chatty women as we sat in the sun, our hands meticulously breaking apart garlic heads and carefully taking off the skin. We were also joined by additional busloads of volunteers, with a few men in the midst, making our group total 30-40 people.  If I wasn't so tired, so introverted, with so little Korean skills and a better sense of humor, I would have enjoyed it a lot more. Which is not to say that it wasn't, in fact, amazing. But I was surprised to find that even at a Buddhist temple, a supposed sanctuary from society, people still asked me why I was single? And since I didn't have a husband, maybe I was interested in becoming a monk? All I wanted was to get a glimpse of this life, not to become a part of anything. Of course, even though one person spoke English, I had no one there to translate the cultural barrier. At one point in the afternoon, I got frustrated that I couldn't get the garlic right and the smiling oldest monk called the English-speaking templestay leader to tell her I wasn't having fun. I felt embarassed - this always-smiling woman seems so truly happy and grateful to be where she is, and I'm interrupting her routine.

As with EM Jeju, I went to Guinsa by myself, hoping to get my hands dirty in the best of local food production and to learn more than I've ever had. I think I accomplished these two things, but in the process, I feel that maybe I wasn't a very good ambassador. I often forget this - I am not here just as myself, I represent my language, my nationality, my skin color, my perceived social, economic and cultural background. Using my introversion as an excuse to be closed-off and grumpy just will not cut it in Korea in the long run. It's time I shape up. And it's time that either I take friends along to places like this, or I adjust my solitary travels to keep my mental health in working order.

This is the end of part one of the post-Jeju adventures. Part two will come by the end of 2012.

Monsoons and Dog Days

Sabuk summer rain

It's already August and I've been in Korea a whole 5 months. So what went down in my life in the month of July?

A lot. And also not a lot. It seems like it flew by.

As the lillois were leaving for Busan and Jeju, beautiful summer rain poured down on us in Sabuk. I love summer rain. I hope that by the end of summer, I will have at least one chance to dance in the rain.

The next day, the sun shined down upon us and I was brimming with energy. As visiters from the outside, my friends inspired me to take a closer look at Sabuk's history. I discovered a whole new part of this town, full of abandoned buildings and exploding green gardens. And the coal memorial where the nice man lets me take tons of beautiful free postcards. So psyched to finally have postcards of this place!  I've decided to work on a Sabuk documentary with my students next semester. I'm not quite sure how I will undertake this experimental project, but I'm pretty excited about it. It will give me a chance to work on something interesting with my students and to get to know the place where I live better. Of course, at one point we will be in bitter cold winter...

Sabuk abandoned apartments

Sabul coal lift

The first week of July brought more sunshine and positive energy - I was feeling pretty good. The school staff took a 2-day trip down to the Yeosu Expo. I wasn't too jazzed about the expo itself as its pretty much a huge, flashy show of watered-down tidbits from various countries around the world and over-the-top water and light shows. Some Koreans eat this stuff right up. Anyway, I enjoyed the company of an American and Korean teacher.

Yeosu Expo playtime

Yeosu Expo nightshow

The trip schedule was packed pretty tight with lots of driving, but we enjoyed the pension near Jiri mountain and the carousing. Koreans, especially older Korean men, take everything out through drinking. Random violence, expressing controlled anger, can overtake even the calmest of people. Russians do this too - I'm not a fan of this cultural aspect, but it is what it is. Hopefully, the younger generations can learn to deal with their problems while sober and save the drinking for genuine fun times. Who knows. 

This was my second visit to Jeollanam-do and it's still the most beautiful part of Korea that I've seen. Damyang has a lovely tree-lined walking trail and a big bamboo forest. It's famous for bamboo and all kinds of fruits. We had a great meal at a restaurant for lunch - that day was one where I really appreciated Korea again. Wanting to communicate with the Korean teachers who hardly speak English, I was pushed again to do some intense language study on the bus. These moments come not so frequently nowadays and even though I'm studying, I'm not sure my skills are improving at the moment. Hopefully, more opportunities will arise. 

 

Totem Poles along the Damyang forest walk

Damyang Bamboo Forest

Damyang lunchtime

Damyang view

When we got back that night, the middle school foreign teacher and I hung out with the high school science teacher and my badass girl students who win in national science competitions. They were taking pictures of the moon with the telescope. It was a really nice moment of being part of the community. I'm also proud of the science teacher who I feel works hard to elevate the girls' self-esteem and passion for science.

Sabuk moongazing

The next day, we had our yellow belt taekwondo test which was not ideal but less stressful than I imagined. I'm not good at taekwondo - I just have to accept this. But I do my best and I keep my body moving and healthier than before. It is a cultural experience that I would not get anywhere else.

The lillois were flying out the next weekend, so we had to have a proper goodbye, which meant getting smashed at a noraebang and watching the sunrise while stumbling around Hongdae on a Friday. I was joined by a new Japanese WWOOF friend and her Finnish buddy.

We were supposed to head back to Hansol, the Namyangju farm early the next morning but of course that was postponed until the afternoon. It was another amazing weekend at the farm, this time under the monsoon. We weeded the hell out of the strawberry greenhouses and some people painted the burgeoning compost toilet. At night, we sang songs around a fire with the puppy running around. My favorite part is how the farmer is not only genuinely interested in sharing his passions and his work, he tries to bring out the magic in each person he meets. Truly wonderful.

Then, I had a weekend in Seoul to myself. (Now cancelled) Mark Kozelek was playing and it's always a joy to see just him and his voice and his nylon-string guitar, though the show in Hongdae the night before was probably better. 

Dongdaemun (East Gate) Seoul

Cheongyangni, Seoul train station

The semester was coming to a close and I was restless - it seems I did nothing at all of value until Jisan Rock Festival the last weekend in July. There, I saw amazing shows by Radiohead, Korean metal bands and the highlight, one of my favorite legendary bands - The Stone Roses. I hardly took any pictures. It's all memories now. I was really looking forward to this festival and parts of it were really good while other parts were lonely or overwhelming. But seeing this music, the affirmation of life, was worth all of it.

And that's about it. Next up is Jeju.

Travelling Magic, WWOOF Korea and What is Activism?

After recounting some of last year's adventures, I now have a bit of travelling magic back in my life - a couple from Lille that I met through the social center have been staying with me this week in the middle of nowhere, Korea. After I came back to France from Greece last summer, Justine told me she was adopted from Korea and they would come visit me. And after a year they've finally made it. This past Saturday, they came from a few days in Seoul to meet me in Sokcho on the North Coast and we spent the night in Seoraksan National Park, exploring as much as we could of this beautiful natural place with its peaks and temples. From Sokcho, we happened to take the same bus as the director of a hagwon, private English academy, in Seoul (who later asked if I wanted to work for her!) and she helped us find a big cheap room in a nice motel in the park.

The next day was less successful because of the endless bus rides, the 2012 Danoje Festival lacking the atmosphere we were looking for, and their heavy luggage, but we still managed to make it to Gyempo Lake and Beach in Gangneung. We made it back to Sabuk late but not-too-late and crashed.

This week, two of my WWOOF Korea buddies came to Sabuk for a night, making it four  people in my apartment, and we had a really nice group outing to a lovely restaurant in Gohan where the owner does wood carvings. Pretty intense stuff for a weeknight in this neck of the woods.

So for about a month now, the weekends have been fresh, interesting, tiring, occasionally frustrating, but overall really vibrant and eye-opening. And definitely too short. In mid-May, the weekend before Buddha's birthday, with my bike, I hopped a ridiculously early Saturday morning bus to Seoul to go to the first English tour of the War and Women's Human Rights Museum in Hongdae. It was a lovely day and the tour was sobering but hugely informative and a chance to meet great activists and new people. That was definitely the turning point in me finally beginning to appreciate the different opportunities available in Korea. 

Afterwards, I gave myself no chance to rest as usual as I wandered around Hongdae looking for a good jimjilbang to crash at - I found out much later there is one right on the main street, but this one in a hidden corner worked just fine.

And travelling magic happened that night too. I met up with Gangwon teachers for the Lotus Lantern Festival, but joining them was a Finnish girl visiting Korea for a month. After a random big dinner, the festival and nice outside drinks, which produced a lot of walking and some ho-hum stereotypical Korean-foreigner interactions, me and the traveller ended up back in Hongdae. We chanced upon the last show of a white-boy band at Strange Fruit, one of the tiny, cozy underground bars. So the night ended on a good note and I made a new friend.

The Sunday, as most Sundays in Seoul are for me, was a case of wandering and river cycling but I did manage to check out the beautifully decorated Bongeumsa Temple.

And it only gets better from there...

Food, Food Everywhere 

Which brings me back to...WWOOF Korea! While deciding on whether or not I would go to Chuncheon's Mime Festival for Buddha's birthday weekend, the decision was made for me by WWOOF Korea posting a call for a group volunteering trip.

That was the weekend that brought me one of the most frustrating but also some of the best and future-giving Korean moments. I arrived in warm, quiet Bucheon neighborhood in Seoul at midnight on a Friday and was so happy I chose to stay at the WWOOF Korea Guesthouse lived in by a Japanese staff member and his girlfriend - they've since moved out and I can't wait to see the changes to the house. I was able to reminisce on WWOOF Greece, learn about WWOOF Japan and how the Korean chapter is and always becoming much more open, welcoming and full of group volunteering opportunities.

I did a write-up about this, my first experience, and a brief description here.

To wrap up, we were in the famous Boseong green tea region of Jeollanam-do, the southwestern province and we were helping a small(er) organic tea farmer weed his fields in preparation for summer tea harvesting. Drinks, laughter, and me being completely lost for lack of Korean. And the still cheap Yeolpo green tea & sea water spa with our nakedness overlooking the beach was a fabulous last touch. If only someone hadn't made the executive decision to drive back to Seoul from Boseong Sunday evening instead of Monday. It would have saved me the headache of arriving in the city at 3 a.m. after a long day of work and a 7-hour drive ending in rain, and finding that I had nowhere to stay after all. I had the option of either waiting at the bus terminal for the 6 a.m. bus to Sabuk or choosing a jimjilbang in Seoul. Honestly, I had a really hard time in the jimjilbang, I didn't sleep at all that night and felt like the positive vibes I had experienced were somehow less real. Like I had done something wrong. 

Thankfully, all that went away the next day as I saw WWOOF people again. Snacks in the WWOOF garden and shared curry by the river on no sleep. And the next two weekends brought lovely Sunday visits to Hansol, the organic chicken farm in Namyangju, the rapidly growing biggest organic farming region in Asia. When I first met the farmer Mr. Kim and a bunch of other WWOOF members and supporters on a Seoul Saturday, it was "Yu-gi", June 2nd, which also means "organic" in Korean. We learned, to our great surprise and delight, that Seoul has an island with a huge public organic garden and compost toilets! If only every city, especially every city with a river, had something like this - urban living would improve so much. Here's the link to more photos. 

How hypocritical of me is it to work on a chicken farm as a vegetarian? Well, they hardly ever slaughter the chickens, except as a special feast like on my first trip there, and the eggs are fresh and delicious. And the middle-aged Korean farmer is a badass, well-travelled, good English-speaking, even radical-minded guy who has built up the place for nearly 30 years. He leads around a 1,000 families in the area in the quest to be even more organic and sustainable. And he founded Slow Food Korea , a short ride from the farm in the same area. I have yet to go there, but it's next on my list as I keep exploring. In two weeks, there will be a compost toilet painting party. I can't wait.

What is Activism? 

I ask myself this question nearly every day and nearly every day, the definition keeps changing - expanding, contracting, becoming fuzzier or clearer depending on the mood.

To be an activist, do you have to be always active? To wave signs? To shout? To smash bank windows? To chain yourself to trees? To occupy the college campus? To attend meetings? To bomb cars? To rescue animals from fur farms? To never drive? To tag public ads? To do street theater? To play in a folk punk band? To read or report for independent media? To ride a bike to work? To eat vegan? To get most of your food from dumpsters? To wash your clothes with soap and water? To wear certain kinds of clothes? To hitchhike instead of taking the bus or train? To garden in your backyard? To keep guns? To protest guns? To befriend people from many different backgrounds? To read political literature? To compost? To take cold showers? To reject religion? To volunteer at the infoshop? To organize shows at the social center? To talk a lot against all the -isms that could possibly come to mind?

Summer roses on a Seoul bike path

It can be those things and a whole lot more. Or it could be none of them. It could be just sitting quietly in nature with a good novel. It could be spending a lot of time with your family. It could be cooking dinner for your housemates. It could be being the best teacher you can be. It could be helping your neighborhood plant trees. It could be playing basketball with your students. It could be smiling at everyone you see on the street. Or only smiling when you truly feel it.

I'm thinking about this now in particular as I finally reach the point where I'm positively processing my time in Europe, all the people I met, all the things I learned. When I was first coming to Korea, my biggest apprehension was definitely how I would go about finding an activist community. I was evenly torn between that and finding quiet, natural places to spend my time. It turns out that I want both. My time with WWOOF here so far has been the most inspiring time and I can see it branching out in all kinds of amazing and more eye-opening directions. And because I feel happy when I do it, I can radiate positive energy to others. Unlike so many other things that I've taken part in, which were fun but often felt more like I should do this because if I don't I'm not living up to my values. 

Having visitors from the past, melting with the present and influencing the future is really exactly what I need at this time. 2012 is half gone, drama-free and I've lived to be a quarter of a century old now. I - and I hope everyone I know - am becoming more and more of the activist and person I want to be, day by day.

Monsoon beginning, Sabuk

Gonna Make This Garden Grow

Earlier this week, I felt a sudden urge to connect the dots between last year's travels and my current life. If I wait much longer, the urge will fade and then reappear too late for me to remember it enough. So I think I'm ready to tell those stories now. And to keep myself in the background. This may be my last post on Korea for a little while, so I will gather experiences in the meantime.

Winter has bid us goodbye, not to return for a good six months. It's hard to believe it. Soon it will be summer swelter. I'll be super glad not to live in heat-rising-from-the-pavement Seoul. At the Lille house in April last year, we painted this on our garden wall:

To me, this is as much about cultivating a healthy spirit as healthy soil. Despite many setbacks, I'm still working on this goal. I love Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie's 1981 version of "The Garden Song" and I like to play and sing it a lot during this time. Only this year, I haven't had the opportunity. I taught it to my French students, but haven't yet found a way to incorporate it into a lesson this year. It's somewhat ironic that I had a big beautiful garden in the middle of the city, but not in a rural mountain town.

Nevertheless, kale and mustard leaf seeds are sprouting on my balcony. Every time I pass fields with old Korean men and women digging in the soil, I want to jump off my bike, out of the bus, off the train to kick off my shoes and join them. But I also know that many of them have been working the land all their lives and their backs are permanently stooped because of it. As mentioned before, Gangwon-do may be known as the province of backwards farmers, but they're not actually producing much. This land is not food friendly and needs lots of work. So I gathered together all the possible options for WWOOFing in this and other parts of Korea. I've decided that I will devote as much of my summer vacation to it as possible, which should be at least 2 weeks. A stay on Jeju island sounds like the most intriguing option, especially if I can bike down there to catch the ferry. However, since I'll be at the Jisan Valley Rock Festival for the last weekend in July, it may make more sense to find a farming community around the west or northwest before heading south for a while.

Last week I did Earth Day lessons. Some were more successful than others, because they were extra burnt out from studying for midterms this week. Besides learning "Big Yellow Taxi" - they got to laugh at Joni's voice - I had them make "My Earth" books, with some cool results. The challenge of teaching low-level high school English is finding activities that are both age and level appropriate. Artistic projects seem to always be a win, except when they're super tired. I get to see their different personalities come out through creative expression. Plus, I like seeing what the kids are aware of in terms of environmental problems. Using less detergent and shampoo and a focus on picking up trash surprised me a bit. I even got an anonymous text over the weekend - I did one lesson where some students had to guess my phone number - asking me the name of the "song about the environment." That made me smile.

I haven't gone on many decent bike rides in the past two weeks, unfortunately. Last weekend, it rained like crazy so a BBQ was cancelled but since I had the bus ticket, I still decided to head to Chuncheon, Gangwon's province capital. An hour by train to Seoul, this is a decent-sized but not-too-crazy "lake" city, with tons of bike paths. I itch to go back there on two wheels. Besides walking down to the lake, the best part was staying at the big 찜질방- the infamous elaborate Korean sauna where we all get naked together. But separately. It was a spontaneous decision after walking too long in the rain and it was funny to be the only foreigner, getting stared down. Ha ha. I went in the early evening and the wake-up call is around 8 a.m. so the next time I will go to some town and spend the day there. I wanted to stay for hours in those heated baths, even surrounded by chatting naked Korean women of all ages, sizes and backgrounds. And curling up on a mat in PJs. Most awkward moment was waking up next to a random middle-aged Korean guy at 3 a.m., probably drunk. Stealthily creeped downstairs and found myself a nice replacement mat. I had dreams about farming in New Zealand and awoke to a nice program about the Caribbean. 

We had even nicer weather this past weekend and I ended up at a famous festival in Yeongwol with my bike which quickly turned into a drive and lovely steep walk up to Hwanseong Cave, clear the other direction near the Samcheok coast. This is the biggest limestone cave in Korea, but we enjoyed the journey there and the surroundings most of all. For the Koreans I've seen, enjoying the outdoors is no casual matter - you gotta dress the part, bright pants and jackets, visors and hiking poles, even on a hot day. And you can get cheap, delicious and relatively healthy food and cold beers wherever you go.

Major bonus points for that. The day ended with a night on the town in Yeongwol, where I had my fill of late-night drunken conversations with Western guys, surrounded by partying Korean college kids. I always like to argue with guys, especially when they get to talking about how it's "natural" to dominate women, but it's also interesting to be in on those talks.

This week, midterms mean I have virtually no classes but still have to come to work. Time to brush up on Korean, play basketball on the courts, and...not go to Seoul for May Day. :(

A friend of mine expresses herself through short comics instead of long-winded posts. I wish I had a talent like that. Mostly, things are going well, but as an INFP personality, there is a world on the surface and then there is a whole 'nother world below the surface. That internal world tends to take over a lot and it is there that I'll find nagging discontent and a need to go beyond just the way things are. This week, I also began to have the old spring freakout. You know what I'm talking about. Restlessness. Less sleep. Desire to jump up and down and all around...and frolic through fields...and get touchy with beautiful people.











I came to Korea for more teaching experience, saving money, getting away from city life and experiencing a new culture. While it's certainly meeting all of those expectations, I'm not sure it's what I actually want, as opposed to telling myself it's what I want. My happiest moments have come from staying in a big house with several people and a big garden, riding my bike all the time, cooking, eating and sharing tons of vegan/vegetarian food, having a decent job, lots of places to explore, live music and community events. Instead of moving towards this ideal lifestyle, it seems I keep purposely moving away from it. For what exactly? Financial security? A constant need for changing location? Nevertheless, I'm sticking it out and seeing what it has in store. It may, in the end, prove to be the best adventure yet.

Too Far From Home

Another view of Sabuk, post spring rain

Echoing my sentiments as usual, this is the title of a new book I picked up this past weekend at What the Book? in Itaewon, the mostly foreigner district in central Seoul. It was the second and last real purchase I made over the two days. As last time, I failed to shop as much as I had planned because I was too busy with things like this:

Yeouido Island Bike Path, Seoul

Suzie Q Bar, Hongdae, Seoul

I finished The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Certainly not a bad reread overall and lots of existential food for thought, but I gotta say: it's really all about sex. Yeah, so Tomas is this awesome persecuted doctor who is relegated to window-washing after he publishes an anti-Communist editorial. And he lives many years with Tereza and he just can't leave her and blah blah blah. But he's constantly screwing other women. Leave it to a male author to have your whole plot, dark European politics and all, revolve around a bunch of graphic erotic encounters. Not that that's a bad thing - just not the most fascinating piece I've ever read. Still, I appreciated the reflections on the pettiness of politics, the inane pity received by Czech refugees and the delicacy of intimate relationships.

Must keep reading. After finding a surprise traditional Korean restaurant in an Itaewon alley, I realized I might miss the 4 p.m. train back to Gangwon. Still, I was there so I hurriedly perused the shelves and picked out Too Far From Home, a Paul Bowles collection of stories, novel excerpts, poems, letters and travel essays. Bowles - always heard of the guy but never read him. What is he famous for? Oh, yes. In the 50s-70s, he made a destination out of Tangier, the northernmost Moroccan city. Of course, this makes me reminisce on last year's 10-day trip to Morocco . Beyond the introductions, the first thing I read was the novella that gives the book its title. After a messy divorce, a New York woman stays with her brother in an unknown Niger Valley town and she can't break free from the "too far from home" feeling. Lessons on race relations, ugly tourism and "forgiving everyone" ensue.

Grape Garden House, where I got some soil

Too far from home. Thing is, if you get the drift of this blog, I have no idea where "home" is. Can never answer the question when asked. So, in a sense, I am always too far from this elusive place, right? And I am always straining to find it, wherever I go. Actually, more so than the quest for meaning, my identity must rest on finding a place I can call home.

This is my third book in a row written by a renowned 20th century fiction writer. Murakami, Kundera and Bowles come from vastly different cultures and perspectives but there is, of course, one thing that binds them together: they are men. I actually appreciate all three of them including strong and sympathetic female characters in their work.Yet if you placed prolific womyn authors in modern Japan, or revolutionary Prague, or beautiful Morocco, I'd bet you'd get vastly different stories. If Murakami's women had the main voice, they might describe what it feels like to live in violation. If Kundera's Tereza could talk, she might feel more anger and despair over sexual harassment at work and pervasive cheating by her husband. In Too Far From Home, Bowles actually takes on Anita's character, and I wonder how the great Joyce Carol Oates - who wrote the introduction - would play that role instead.

I guess what I'm thinking is, I want to hear more female voices in fiction. Particularly travel fiction. I want to hear what it's like to have the same spirit of freedom and adventure as male travellers, but not the freedom from verbal street harassment, sexual and violent attacks or a stricter dress code. In fact, I want to hear more about what it's like to live as a part of the societies where female travellers are privileged compared to the local ones. I want to hear about how being a female-assigned person in many parts of this world is simply a battle that none of us chose but how they keep on fighting for their lives. Despite the fucked-up anti-woman legislation currently making its rounds in the States, it doesn't compare to us living as second-class citizens in so many other places, particularly Asia and Africa. So, basically, I should be less lazy and actively seek out these stories. Reading Lolita in Tehran comes to mind.

Hapjeong Station, Hongdae - I loved loading up on gear here!

Rant temporarily over. Springtime is upon us, finally, and the second Seoul weekend was an intense precursor to Sabuk's first truly warm days of the year. I was easily able to get my bike on the train Saturday morning and a daytime train ride was nicer, complete with cute Korean kids in front of me. The challenge began as soon as I got off the train. As usual, I rarely make good advance plans for solo bike trips and all I had done was take pictures of the route I found on BBBike (an awesome resource, regardless). That's right - I did not have a good printed map of Seoul. All I knew was my start point, Changyangni train station in northeast Seoul and my end point - Grape Garden House in Hongdae, southwest Seoul. And so I set off on a bit of a wild ride through the crowded streets of Seoul, on a hot and sunny afternoon. It was mostly enjoyable and I had company on two wheels, though I wouldn't choose to do it that way a second time. The parts of the city I saw were diverse and interesting, but maybe not the most attractive.

It took me way too long to get to the hostel, but once I got there I quickly made plans to ride back out, down to the Han River bike path at dusk. Make no mistake, this is prime city cycling territory - a 68-kilometer loop around the river. Most of the Seoul cyclists seem to cluster here and it's not hard to see why. I crossed the footpath at the Sogang Bridge in Mapo-gu, Hongdae area and finally had a beautiful relaxed ride. So incredibly happy to have a good pair of wheels beneath me. In general, I would say that Seoul reminds me of any big city anywhere, especially from far-away. But that's OK, because they still work hard to make it a liveable, breathable and enjoyable place.

For dinner, I managed to make the mistake of ordering the spiciest thing I've had so far in Korea,     짬뽕. Usually, I can handle it, but sometimes you just gotta laugh it off when you get something that's too much. Afterwards, I managed to get a bit lost in the Hongdae whirlwind but finally met my Houston friend's cousin at the station. I stayed out until nearly 5, in a mix of Hongdae bar hopping, taxi ride to and from a Gangnam charity masquerade party, late-night 비빔밥 and learning about the particular lives of seasoned Seoul hagwon teachers and those who have moved on to other places. For a while there, I really couldn't believe I was going back to the little mountain village with no cafe culture, no live music, no real opportunities for activism. I did "plant seeds" for a joint weekend WWOOFing adventure, though, so that will be something.

But Seoul will always be there. Sunday was beautiful as ever and I headed across the Sogang bridge proper to Yeouido for the Cherry Blossom Festival. These ubiquitous Korean & Japanese trees have yet to sprout in Sabuk, but I imagine it will be actually nicer to enjoy them without the massive crowds. I also enjoyed the path here and rode east to and across the Wonhyo bridge to get back to the city streets. I fully planned to take my bike on the subway to catch the train from Changyangni, but after following the road signs to Itaewon, chowing down, relaxing and buying a book, I realized it just wasn't possible. 

After a brief panic, coupled with the nearly summer heat, I got myself hydrated and back on the road - who knows where? The river seemed like the best option again, finally and I took a long, luxurious, fast and free golden hour ride on the bike path to the Hangyang University station, further east. I fully expected to arrive at the Eastern bus terminal in no time after this, but it turns out I had it wrong. Thankfully, the road signs pointed me to DongSeoul terminal. I passed through a nicer, more small-shoppy part of the city lined with colored latterns - in reality, I was heading back west towards the center. And so it is that, after another very full and tiring day of cycling, I was on a 7:30 bus to the Gohan terminal. Getting off in the nighttime, I felt that the bike was an extension of me, so smoothly and easily did I roll back to my house. A bit hazy and delirious. 

And this work week was hazy. Weeks pass so quickly, I can hardly believe it's almost May. I'm really missing May Day involvement and I hope to go back to Seoul for a weekend parade, if possible. This is the really important year, with a call for a global general strike, but it's on Tuesday! No way I can skip work to go to Seoul that day. And anyway, I don't know anyone directly involved there. Again, I feel split in two between the beauty and peace of my surroundings and everything I could be doing in the city. It will never go away and acceptance is part of the battle. A battle for positive change. 

My French friend who just got back from travelling South America for months messaged me today and it sure as hell made my day. Just knowing that we're still young, still staying on the road and still trying to live our lives to the fullest fills me with the utmost hope. I will never actually be "stuck" anywhere, unless I want to be, and real family and friends will always be there even if it takes 10 years to reunite. 

And yes, I still like teaching my kids. I'm liking it more and more. 

Han River path view, dusk

On the Sogang Bridge

Seoul from the Sogang Bridge