The following are two excerpts from the journal of an embattled soldier during the major days and following aftermath of the conflict known to the history books as “Liam’s Last Stand”. Occurring in the last days of June, during Liam’s venture to the Orient, the following journal is the only documented proof of the invasion of flies that almost caused him to lose his kitchen forever…



June 19th, 2009- Excerpt from the journal of Liam Quinn (Private First Class, Bravo Company) during the early days of the Black Korea Campaign’s final counter-offensive.

Days have turned to weeks and the enemy has been quiet. They cut off our supply lines in their initial attack. They arrived with a small reconnaissance force. While their presence was unwelcome, the potential for coexistence existed at first. However, it didn’t take long for them to capitalize on our (my) indifferent hospitality. After gaining a foothold on my window they began their advance. The ceiling was their next point of occupation. Looking back it may have been possible to have repelled the invasion before it took its full form but we (I) had neither the resources to observe their full activity or the necessary artillery to make an effective counter-offensive. The result was a swift and absolute defeat for the defenders (us [me]). It became rapidly evident that it would be essential to evacuate all necessary personnel and fall back to a more fortified position. So as to ensure a safe and complete retreat, measures were taken to seal off the already forfeited territories and accept them as losses. Our defeat was neither dignified or affordable at a time like this, but a true general knows when to withdraw when the hope of victory has vanished.
Since the infamous Rout at Culinary Pass, a more sophisticated system of surveillance has been instituted and a number of forays into the occupied territories have been attempted. Our initial incursion into No Man’s Land was complimented with added firepower from my ally Chris. Equipped with nothing more than a half-empty Glade can and love for our homeland, we sallied into the forsaken unknown with hopes of not regaining our ground but to discover just what it was we were up against. Early estimates were desperately discouraging as the number of enemy units began to swell along the barricade separating the newly partitioned territories. The assumption was that a suitable base of operations had already been established by the enemy and that prospects of venturing further were being discussed by the brass of their outfit. It would be this early probe mission that would confirm or discredit those initial assumptions. Upon parting the only barrier differentiating us between preservation and peril we entered onto an unsettlingly dark and quiet scene. The occasional enemy could be seen hovering indifferently across the small room, paying no attention to the presence of hostile forces. Perhaps emboldened by the apparent apathy of the enemy or maybe just overwhelmed by the eerie stillness that engulfed us, my comrade-in-arms relinquished a barrage of fresh scented lemon at a nearby group of idle enemies so as to cripple any attempt at retaliation. A faint inkling of possible success crept into our minds before it was utterly crushed by the realization of our worst fears. In response to Chris’ hostile gesture, a cloud of black emerged from the opposite windowsill, accompanied by a crescendo of menacing buzzes and we were soon overpowered by virtue of their speed and might. Retreat was our only course and it was done so in the wake of a most disturbing revelation- defeat was closer than we could have imagined.
The campaign has seen little change since our exploration of the enemy holdings. The number of sentries posted on the opposite side of the barrier has ranged from startling to unnoticeable. Endeavors behind enemy lines since our first attempt have brought mixed results and have been met with equal concern for reconnaissance and removal of once friendly resources that, with time, could only bolster the conviction of the opposition. At times, the diminished number of visible enemy forces has made it appear as though there may be some internal strife within their camp. It can only be hoped that their sinister warmongering meets its end by their own hands. Should the time for our side to take sterner action arrive, I shudder at the consequences. We have taken measures to encourage internal weakness by introducing a number of fresh-smelling and air-drying elements into their environment. It can only be hoped that this as far as it needs to be taken…

… torn pages and fragments are all that remain of the private’s compositions detailing the days between July 19th and July 26th. Further inspection of the assumed location of the most heated parts of the conflict lead us to conclude that there was a flurry of skirmishes and hostilities in these days…


July 26th, 2009- Excerpt from the journal of Liam Quinn (Lieutenant, Bravo Company) during the final days of the Black Korea Campaign.

Like the mist rising from the hills after the night of a tempest the cloud of black has lifted from our besieged lands. The men rejoice and in time the laughter and mirth that had been silenced will return. Our tactical purge of the enemy has seen resounding success. They could not endure our retributive incursions and just as they came they were forced to beat a hurried retreat to whatever realm of blackness they hailed from. Much work will be needed to reclaim the territories and return them to their original state and the fear of the enemies return still looms in the clearing air, but for now we breathe a sigh of relief. War is over.

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To be honest, I did think my kitchen was in serious peril. With the summer months only just arriving and the flies coming in at full force I was partially willing to accept the sacrifice for a couple of months. I don’t cook all that much in there and it wasn’t so uninhabitable that I couldn’t get to the fridge for what few things I needed to keep cool. However, I was informed that this kind of thing was somewhat common and, while I think I got it worse than most, there are a number of things that can be done to limit the amount of flies hanging out in your apartment. One of the major issues with the kitchen is that the sink’s pipes don’t work terribly well and any piece of food that gets in there, no matter how small, will simply stay there. Also, the way the kitchen is laid out, it can get rather hot and humid as it is and so making it an ideal spot for some opportunistic winged insects. Either way, it didn’t take much more than a solid cleaning and some products from the local mini-stop to address the issue. So for those of you who were worried about that courageous private you just read about, don’t worry too much, sounds like he’s doing just fine now. It actually sounds like he was a little more dramatic than he needed to be.

In the world of LCI Academy, I had Parent-Teacher Conferences two weekends ago (yeah, it’s been that long since my last post) and they actually went much better than I had expected. My first one was during the week and it didn’t go as well as I would have hoped. It was, by no means bad, but the Korean Parent-Teacher conference goes considerably differently than one back in the states, especially when there is a language barrier. While it was nice to have a Korean teacher to mediate and, at times, pretty much speak for me, it definitely took away from the parent-teacher aspect of the whole experience. Every time the parent fielded me a question I would attempt to answer the question to the best of my ability but in all reality the only thing being conveyed to the parent is the general idea of what I’m saying. The basic pattern of the conversation involved the question from the parent, an answer from me, and then a long-winded interpretation that would put a reverse Godzilla translation to shame. What I said in the span of a minute or two lasted anywhere between five and ten minutes from my Korean teacher’s mouth. There were actually times where I heard laughing between the two and other times when I heard the parent actually say something else and the Korean teacher responded without conferring with me. I do realize that sometimes I’m more humorous than I even realize and I’m sure jokes of my caliber translate perfectly well, but I’m still pretty sure my Korean teacher was slipping some of her own material into my response. Also, the Korean teacher that was translating for me wasn’t actually the one that I work with in class so I’m rather impressed that at her ability to make informed responses to the parents without checking with yours truly.
As for the questions themselves, they tend be geared towards who their child gets along with in the class, whether he or she is the best in the class and where they sit in the classroom. While these are pretty pressing matters I did expect questions of a different type. For my first interview, these kinds of things were somewhat unknown to me so I may not have rallied to the moment as well as I could have, but it still went well enough. My first one on Saturday was a bit difficult because of a misunderstanding about something that happened between her son and another student in class but once it was resolved it went rather well. For the rest of the interviews, proper preparation allowed them to go much more smoothly and I actually enjoyed meeting the parents of the children I was teaching. A couple of the parents were actually proficient enough in English to make a direct conversation more or less possible. On top of that, I came away with a 50,000 won gift certificate to the ironically stereotypical American restaurant- The Outback Steakhouse.

For those of you keeping up with my “weekly” (well, bi-monthly with an insert somewhere in between) you will know that I’ve been commissioned with the care of one of the more advanced classes for on of my afternoon sessions. It seems that the competitive nature of private English Institutes in Korea creates a great degree of pressure for the school to ensure top performance from their top students. With some recent questions from the parents of my students about the new teacher that has taken over their children’s class there have been plans made for an open class to be made available to any parent interested in observing an actual class. This also means a critical observation from the director of the school, as well, to make sure he thinks the class is in suitable order to be seen by concerned parents. The news is a little disconcerting but, at the same time, I don’t think I’m terribly concerned. The kids are pretty smart and I’m pretty confident that I can at least make it LOOK like I’m a good teacher.

Bringing us up to this weekend, we regrettably had our head English teacher- the teacher that recruited me- part ways with the school after7 good years of service. As a particularly approachable and accountable individual it’s an unfortunate event. However, as all stormy clouds are want to have, there was a substantial silver lining in all of this. To honor his dedication and service it was only natural for our school to celebrate him the way it knows best- ANOTHER ROOF PARTY! Although the weather did not cooperate with us enough to manage an actual roof party, we brought the festivities were brought indoors and were, yet again, thoroughly enjoyable.
Though the party had been planned a few weeks in advance, sometime about the week before the party, it was decided that it would be costume party. While my initial plan was to come as the relentless guide that treated us like galley slaves on the rafting trip, a trip downtown with my compatriots Chris and Terry brought us to the idea of dressing like three of the older employees who, much like us, are three friends who spend a good deal of time together. In my mind it would be somewhat Seinfeld-esque and for that alone I was able to abandon my initial plan and jump on board with the new one. Our arrival was met with a good deal of hilarity accented by a touch of resentment from those of whom we had imitated. The party was highlighted by the introduction of a drinking game known as caps that, for me, was a welcome reminder of home where I was first exposed to the game. However, for the party as a whole, it will be well remembered mostly for the fireworks that the three of us bought while looking for our costumes which, interestingly enough, can be found in a typical supermarket just like anything else. While it may have been more exciting to have had to sneak across the DMZ to obtain these celebratory incendiaries, I wasn’t unhappy about this convenience.
In the hodgepodge of recent events I finally joined a gym over here. Well, I actually joined awhile ago but haven’t managed to throw it into my blog yet to make me look cool. I got a pretty cheap year contract but the gym itself makes the Vernon High School gym, even before being restocked, look pretty appealing. Still, it will do for the time. I also recently took a trip out to the Outback Steakhouse with a couple of friends to make use of the aforementioned gift certificate. It was nice having a steak and baked potato in “familiar” environs but an Outback, in the middle of Korea, still doesn’t have the same taste as home. On top of that, I was there with a Brit, who had never been to an Outback before anyway ( I kid Terry). Still, we didn’t hate sitting down to a well-cooked dinner, accompanied with a fine bottle of Australian wine and some good conversation. However, a return trip may take some time in light of it’s costliness.
On top of all previous hodgepodge news, the two most prominent stories in my recent history come from the US’s National Soccer Team and my good friend Greg Jablonski. After pulling off a stunning last game miracle against Egypt to reach the semi-finals of the Confederation Cup over Italy, our dear boys from the states took the World’s game to a new level when they beat the Spaniards 9 (the globe’s number 1 ranked team) 2-0 in the friendly confines of Loftus Versfeld, a stadium in South Africa that will help host the 2010 World Cup. In addition, I was recently informed that the one and only Greg Jablonski will be visiting me here in Gwangju for the span of two weeks. It will be a rather welcome change for me to see a familiar face way out here and I look forward to showing him what Korea has to offer. I will do my best to keep you posted about that as things happen- buuuut no promises.


Also, the Kia Tigers are in third and look like a team that has its sights on something better!

So just in time to avoid the flood of demands for new posts, which have already begun to trickle in, I present to you the close of my June 26th post on SoKo and Liam. I go to bed dreaming of Stars and Stripes.

I'm sure many of you scoffed at the prospect of me writing my next post in a more timely fashion than my past few entries and it seems I have given you good reason to do so. My plan to post every two or three days or so has been, as of yet, a mere dream. I apologize to all my readers, both stalwart and casual. Though I don't aim to make any promises, I urge you to not give up hope. I still may manage to establish some kind of regularity for this thing in the future.

The Korean humidity that I have heard so much about before this has begun its descent onto the urban confines of Gwangju Metropolitan City. It's still rather bearable but from what I understand it's still the beginning. I'm pretty thankful for the six sticks of Old Spice that I toted over here with me at the beginning of this trip. I imagine such foresight will pay considerable dividends in the future.

I've been having some pretty good times with my class which, I forgot to mention, is called Princeton Class. I couldn't help but smile at my fortune early on when the one guy from Jersey scored the class with the namesake of the Ivy League school that no one from that state actually attends. However, as much as I've been enjoying my class, they have also seen the sterner side of Liam Teacher. It's a regrettable affair when I have to act that way with the kids but I do it cuz I care.

As per usual, the highlight of my activity here in the Orient took place on the weekend. On Friday a few of us accompanied one of the directors to the grocery store to purchase some essentials for the planned white water rafting trip that the school would be hosting the next day. After being used for some heavy lifting and transportation labor, the director took us out for some Bunda jjigae. Now, bunda jjigae is technically considered Korean cuisine but in all reality it's pretty much just hotdog and spam soup made with ramen noodles. Of course, ramen here holds a much more reputable place in the Korean eye but I couldn't help but think that this kind of soup could have just as easily originated in a college dorm one late night as opposed to blossoming as a common dish of the South Korean nation. Keeping with Korean tradition, we complimented our meal with some maekju- beer -, but in a very conservative manner. Fully aware of the physically demanding day that lay before us, we saw it in our best interest to make it a quiet night. After an enjoyable meal, the night ended with the purchase of a few supersoakers to be unleashed on the unsuspecting bodies of those in our rafting company and we went our separate ways.

The next day began with a two hour drive out of Gwangju in a rather comfortable coach bus, occupied mostly with the activity, or inactivity, of sleep. Upon our arrival we were a bit discomfited by our welcome from the notably austere directors at the rafting site. We were very rapidly beset by a fusillade of whistles directing us to stand in four lines as we were given our standard issue life jackets, helmets and oars.Though we were assured that the activity of the day was rafting, it entered the minds of not a few of us that maybe we had wandered a little too far north, maybe beyond the stiffly guarded DMZ. For the most part, those oars of ours were probably not a far cry from what those armed hooligans up north were equipped with. The day continued in its oddly regimented manner as we got ready to launch our inflated aquatic vessels. Our raft director had the members of our crew wade into the water before boarding the raft. We assumed it was for the purpose of acclimating us to the river water. Initially, this was not much of a problem. However, this peculiar exercise of arbitrary authority became less agreeable when he had us link arms and dip up and down in the water as he chanted "1-down! 2- up!" as though he was conditioning us for a greater ordeal than a lazy trek down a meandering river. Looks of confusion began to be exchanged when we realized that the other crews of rafts we came with were getting set to make for open water while we, at that point, were lying on our backs in the water, floating away, accommodating yet another demand from our fascist facilitator. When we did actually start our trip downriver, the orders rang even more loudly in our ears. Much like galley slaves, we were urged on by the piercing shouts of our unelected "captain" who would, apparently, be accompanying us for the duration of the trip. In between his pacing shouts of "one, two", our progress was slowed by the regular demand for us to to stop and get back into rhythm or to bounce back and forth on the raft to release us from the hold of a random rock. Knowing that our commander knew very little English, the murmurs of discontent that passed among the surly crew became particularly audible and the idea of mutiny, even if in jest, was passed around freely. Luckily, for both parties, as the river opened up a little bit, we were permitted to abandon ship and take the rapids individually. Thought a little painful, this was a much more enjoyable way to take to the river than to subject ourselves to the constant reprimands and remonstrances of our skipper.

By the time we had reached our destination downriver we were in considerably better spirits if not a little worse for wear. At this point our opinion of our unbending instructors softened a little bit when they flipped a pair of the rafts and lined them up so as to construct something of a pontoon bridge that led to nowhere. Naturally, as I discovered that their purpose was for one of us step up and jump off the end of this bridge, I was ready and willing. From there, we were able to let, coax and coerce a number of other people to attempt the same thing and so began one of the more light-hearted and spirited parts of the day.

Having had our fill of leaping aimlessly into a river for one day, we headed back to our point of origin where we were able to hit the showers and change into dry clothes. From there, the bus took us to a nearby restaurant where we ate in classic traditional Korean style. The food was neither good or bad but it was nice to take a break and feed our appetites that hadn't seen the likes of food since before we had embarked on our watery adventure.

The trip back was pretty quiet and relaxing. The majority of those with us were taxed from the days activities and had no taste for any kind of rambunctions ridiculousness. When we made it back, my comrades Chris and Terry decided to spend our evening at WOW Bar, decided to go out to meet up with a Korean friend of ours that Chris had introduced us to awhile back. With no real knowledge of the area that we had met her in, we let Sarah, our Korean friend, take us to a place where we could try a dish that she called "potato soup". When I heard about something called potato soup I was completely on board. As it turned out, the soup was really more of a spare rib soup with the occasional potato here and there. I will admit, the soup was probably one of my favorite dishes so far in Korea, but in my opinion, "potato soup" was a very misleading title for such cuisine.

From potato soup we made it back to our neighborhood and headed to WOW Bar, which is a local bar for us that has balcony seating, allowing us to have a few beers and enjoy what proved to be a nice Korean summer night. By the end of the night, we had a few more companions sitting at our table and another well spent night under our belts. While we were there we partook in what is known as fruit soju, which is pretty much just a daquiri of any fruit you want, mixed with soju. I admit, this is favorite of mine despite its fruity disposition. However, they way I look at it, while fruity drinks with an atypically low quantity of alcohol in them may be bit out of character for me, if you think about it, it's really just a spiked fruit smoothy. While smoothies themselves don't have much in the way of a backbone, when you spike them with alcohol that's actually kinda edgy. Besides, once we drink enough of it, we add more soju ourselves to give it some more pep.

Sunday was somewhat uneventful but we made use of a recent discovery that Chris and I made in our apartment- our roof access. Atop our oddly constructed and colored apartment, we have a sizeable rooftop where can bring my grill up and barbecue some sausages which, in Korea, come in green, red and and regular. Though we haven't done terribly much up there beyond a few Sunday barbecues, there is an incredible degree of potential for future events. I am extremely eager to test them out.

I have spent about an hour and a half here at my desk at school writing this and I still haven't eaten dinner, not to mention I've been told that I have to decorate my room for parent-teacher conferences that will be happening this Saturday, so I'm going to end this post with traditional promise of future posts.

Have a good one, folks!

Heeelllllooo and welcome to the much awaited post you’ve all been asking for. A lot has gone on since last I’ve put pen to ink (so to speak), some of it new, cool and exciting and some of it less so. I do apologize for the space of time between this post and the last but I promise a lengthier edition this time around for you to absorb piece by piece or in a single, gluttonous sitting.

I find it necessary that I begin with less happy but more important news first to shed a great deal more light on one of the causes of my absence from the editor’s block.

The Quinn family recently and suddenly lost one of it’s cornerstones in the death of my Grandpa Jack. The shock penetrated the family deeply in it’s abruptness and suddenness. Though, perhaps not the youngest or sprightliest of men, our Grandpa had always struck me as one who would be with us for years to come. That may partially be the consequence of wishful thinking on my part, but all the same, the news put me well on my heels. He will be dearly missed by all who knew him and lovingly remembered in the hearts and minds who survive him. The wish that I could be there for the funeral and family was and is eclipsed only by the realization that my Grandpa is smiling somewhere with the knowledge that I am doing something over here that makes me and happy and makes him proud.

It is to be certain that distance holds no bearing or validity when contemplating the bonds that exist between and among families as close as my own. In spite of such distance, I commemorated my Grandfather in my own humble and quiet way. On a warm evening, not even a week ago, I ventured up to the pagoda that sits atop the highest part of the park nearby. From my vantage point, I peered out onto a dappled city of yellows, reds, blues, greens and oranges and let my mind dwell on late patriarch of the Quinn Family. With a Budweiser in hand (one of the first beers I ever had and the first one I ever had my Grandpa and my Dad), I remembered a great man who will be missed but not forgotten.

While my mind returns to my Grandpa Jack frequently, it does not mean that life over here ceases to be.

While I will have difficulty trying to organize and figure out what I should tell you first and what I should tell about in detail or just mention in passing, I will do my best to paint a picture of my life in the past weeks.

I think it would be wise to first increase your familiarity with the kindergarten class that I have inherited, now that I am far more acquainted with them since last I posted. I decided that the best way for you to meet my eleven 7 year-old (5 in American years) charges is to give them to you in a quick and neat fact sheet, covering the most basic points of each individual. This will be conducive for getting a better understanding of who they are as well as ease the process for those of you keeping score at home

(Though they all have Korean names that are rather difficult to pronounce, much less remember, they have also been given “Western” names for convenience’s sake)


Ariel- If I had to say, I would probably define Ariel somewhere along the lines of the “the popular girl”. She seems to get along relatively well with everyone in the class and while she does not act spoiled or bratty she definitely demands attention. I can’t remember any of her show and tells off hand, though it’s her turn tomorrow so I will get another chance to be wowed. Her “Kiss Day” (yup, kiss day) is every Monday after circle time and she is paired with John, although I am detecting a bit of a rift lately and wouldn’t be surprised if Kiss Day became a thing of the past in the near future, unless Jamie makes his move.

Bobby- Bobby is my eyes and ears, perhaps to the point of excess. You could say he qualfies as a bit of a tattle tale. However, do not be misled by this initial comment of negativity. He’s a kid who strives to impress. He is much easier to teach than some of the others because of this. If I tell him to do something, he’s pretty good about doing it the first time.

Gladis- Gladis is the one with her head in the clouds. I envy her for ability to simply wander off on whimsical tangents at a moments notice. She is one of those students that you can reprimand one moment and in the next, her smile is back and she’s as happy as she was before it ever happened. On the other hand, I don’t envy her teacher when he is trying to get her to focus. This tendency to wander makes keeping her on task a job in itself. FANTASY NOTE: You can expect this student to come up big on cute points and but look out for weeks with tough material. You may want to keep her on the bench when the class gets to harder sciences and when they are working with words that end in “Y”.

Kristi- Kristi makes the class ridiculously more rewarding and much easier to teach. She constantly has a smile and listens to everything you say. While I prefer a more freelance style of class, I’ve had to resort to a “raise your hand, don’t call out policy” for the time being. Amazingly, even in the midst of the uproar of hoots and hollers that occur before Liam Teacher says something, she remains composed and quiet, with her hand in the air and the right answer on her mind. She is always first on the list when it comes to giving her the better jobs like passing out the pencils or erasers, though she’s perfectly happy with passing out or collecting the books. If I admit favorites, she may well have earned the honor.

Jamie- Jamie has the goofy-cute card going well in his favor. The Korean teachers love him, especially my Korean teacher- Christine Teacher- which goes long way within the walls of LCI Academy. Some of his more notable tricks and stunts is laughing extremely hard to the point that snot is running down to his nose until it reaches the dreaded mouth region. The “Prestige” to his trick is pretending to enjoy letting it seep into his mouth and, sometimes, I’m convinced that he does.

John- I consider John Ariel’s counterpart and not simply because they are Kissing Buddies. That just reiterates my convictions. I find his wit to be a little bit more cleverly contrived than Jamie’s slapstick one-man show and actually think he might be one of the smarter kids in the class. He sometimes has a knack for mischief, and I admit that I let him get away with it a little bit more than the others. I can’t say exactly why, but I’m a big fan of this one.

Andy- Andy will be my project for the year. He is clearly going to be the most difficult to control and the most likely to cause trouble in the class. I have, for the sake of my Uncle John (not the bathroom reader guy), labeled him as “Bad Andy”. He is far more mischievous than Jamie or John and it seems like he sometimes does it with purely malicious intent. Though almost all of my kids do this, he is the king of the tattle-tale of fictitious events. He will tell me about things that happened that never actually transpired or, largely in his case, blame someone else for doing what he did to that student. I try not to single him out but he is the only one who has been sent out of the class almost every day since I’ve taken over the class. He is my work-in-progress.

Daniel- Daniel is Gladis’ counterpart. Though not as airy, he is rather difficult to get to pay attention. I would have to say that English comes a little bit harder to him than others. Also, I kinda worry about the kid a little. At circle time, when I ask everyone how they are he always tells me that he is “good and bad” because his little brother hits him. I hope he toughens up a little in the next few years or that this little brother of his is an uncharacteristically strong child. Still, he’s a quiet kid who likes to smile so he’s okay in my book.

Mark- Mark is a pretty smart fellow. I think he picks up random things more than the others. While he may have a bad streak from time to time when he’s in proximity to Andy, he is pretty well-behaved and speaks English rather well. On a few occasions, when we are in a more casual situation such as when we are on a field trip or doing the birthday party thing in class, I find myself acting buddy-buddy with him. He’s a pretty savvy cat and gets most of what I throw at him.

Mike- Mike is another quiet kid who likes to smile. He understands English rather well and speaks it pretty well too, but for some reason, math just doesn’t work for him. I have taught him addition and subtraction and how they are different at least five times but it still hasn’t quite clicked. If I didn’t have to worry about losing the rest of the class to do it, I wouldn’t mind taking the time to teach him in detail but it is an ENGLISH school and we only get so much time with math so I can’t afford to do it. He is also the male counterpart to the only other Kissing Couple in the class and, if you ask me, a part of the one that is more likely to survive the rough patches that such a relationship is heir to.

Jenny- Jenny is a bubbly one. She likes to smile and she loves getting out of her chair. She can be hectic but I do enjoy having her. She brings candy for show and tell so she’s a good sharer and she has a pair of butterfly wings that she wears to class that makes the hardest heart soften a bit. She is also Mike’s Kissing Buddy so she keeps good company.

Now that you know my class a little bit better, let me get you up to speed with some of the things I’ve been up to elsewhere.

Just this past weekend we had a big publicity event at the other school on the opposite side of the city to promote it’s opening. The school has been around for a year or so and while it is bigger and the facilities are newer, it’s enrollment is still below ours so we’re working on changing that. The theme of the event was carnival games and it was up to the Sangmu Teachers (That’s us) to operate that end of the event while the Bongsungdong Teachers (the teachers at the new school) ran the educational-fun classes inside the classrooms. While they were given the more plush and, well, less demeaning jobs of the two sets of teachers we still benefited by not having to do any work outside of being there. The day itself required extensive preparation on the part of the other teachers that was apparently on the worst side of grueling.

We were given the choice of a number of different games to operate. You had your classic games like knock the bottles down and ring toss but my interest was piqued by the game simply entitled “Balloon Toss”. I figured it promised to be a little more eventful and didn’t mind getting a little wet for the sake of a good time. My buddy Chris was quick to sign up alongside me and the situation had the promise of a pretty awesome time, in spite of the fact that we had to work on Saturday. For most of you reading, the idea in your head of a balloon toss looks much like two lines of participants facing each other and tossing balloons from one side to the other with the hope that the watery explosive being exchanged between the two of you remains in tact until the end. This is what I had in mind when I signed up. Apparently, in Korea, or at least at my school, that picture is a little different. In this picture there are two hapless individuals standing on one side of a box while young children throw these same watery explosives with the expressed intent to make them blow up somewhere on your body, preferably in the face region. There is a certain degree of comfort that comes to a 22- and 23- year old when they confront the prospect of being thrown at by kindergarteners, primary schoolers and the odd middle-schooler. That comfort comes in the knowledge that, given enough distance, it shouldn’t be all that difficult to dodge the majority of balloons being tossed your way. However, in reality, that pre-arranged distance with the system of one thrower at a time tends to break down in a relatively rapid fashion. By the end of the game (when we finally ran out of balloons), though more like 5 minutes into it, the game had become a crowd of motley Korean children armed with water balloons, all firing from point blank or closer. Any hope of emerging with a dry garment anywhere on our person quickly diminished. Fortunately for us, after a harrowing session of target practice, we were informed that there would be two more sessions following that one and in the time between those sessions, it would be our duty to scurry to the roof of the building in our drenched clothing so that we could fill more water balloons- the very water balloons that we would find hurtling towards our skulls in the not too distant future. The day ended with all of us present beleaguered and ready to enjoy the one free night we had afforded after working through our Saturday.

In all reality, the day was actually fun and hardly seemed to qualify as “work”. What was better, the directors had promised us yet another “Roof Party” at the new school and they came through brilliantly. Appealing to the varying tastes among both Foreign and Korean teachers, we were served pizza, chicken and “Korean-Chinese Food” which, like American Chinese, is not actually Chinese but still delicious. In addition, there was ample soju and beer to help Chris and me forget that we failed to bring a change of clothes and that we would be stuck in our wet clothes for the duration of the festivities.

Another event worthy of mention happened about two weekends ago. In light of the good time that we had at our first Kia Tigers game, despite their loss, we made a return trip with the hopes of changing our fortunes. Unfortunately, the day had an inauspicious start when Terry and I accompanied Chris through town to get him a cell phone. I will alert all readers now that when you are trying to get a cell phone in a country where the language is not one that you speak or understand, do not go without someone who does speak it or understand it. This is something that we did not do. The result was an hour and a half of hand gestures, failed attempts at using the few phrases we have in our repertoire and a lot of sighing and gnashing of teeth. Fortunately, after making a few phone calls with the clerk’s cell phone to more seasoned friends, we managed to make some headway in our endeavor. It was an endeavor that we would have easily given up on if we hadn’t put so much time into it already and if Chris wasn’t dead set on getting a cell phone that day. The tragedy and irony of the whole thing in the end was twofold: 1) Because of a discrepancy in his visa, he wasn’t able to actually get the phone registered until after the weekend so taking all that time when we should have been somewhere else was unnecessary 2) It turned out, on Chris’ return that Monday, that the clerk spoke Japanese which is a language that Chris speaks as well.

Ultimately, the group we had planned on going with had already left and the three of us headed over there sometime later. After grabbing a somewhat pricey cab, by Gwangju standards, walking through traffic and around the stadium to the entrance we were met with the disheartening news that the game was sold-out. My first reaction was disbelief. Of course I bleed red and black for my Tigers but the idea of a Korean baseball game, in a league of only 8 teams (meaning the Tigers would be seeing this very same team countless times in the future) still left me lost for words. Suddenly, we were outside of the stadium, without any tickets, a full cab ride away from home and without any plan for our Saturday. We decided that our best plan of attack was to sit outside the stadium for a little bit, listen to the crowd and sulk as we dwelled on our misfortune. However, it wasn’t long after we opened our first beer that we saw a distressed woman in her car trying to drive through a narrow road between the stadium and the wall on which we sat. The fact that the road was narrow, coupled with the fact that this woman wasn’t all that great of a driver made the task of navigating her car through this street a rather daunting obstacle. Nonetheless, we jumped down and tried to help as best we could with hand motions and tonal shouts. After a little while, another man came to help. With his command of the Korean language, being as he was a Korean man himself, he became indispensable in finally finagling this car through the street and away from the stadium. Thinking our job done, the three of us returned to our place on top of the wall to brood further upon our sorry situation. Luckily, the man who had helped us only moments before noticed us and addressed us with a very pertinent question, “Why you no game?”. It took a simple response , “No tickets” and the man was on his cell phone and getting us five tickets for the game. In no time, we were inside the stadium with two extra tickets that we had no idea what to do with. We had gone from rags to riches in the span of one good deed.

We got into the game and enjoyed ourselves but we have vowed to never step foot in that stadium again. While we were outside and sulking, the Tigers had a 3-run lead. When we finally got inside the lead disappeared and we never recovered. We pushed ourselves to an 0-2 record at games we have attended. Though my heart aches to never hear the echoes of Tigers Stadium or catch the whiff of stale kimbap on the air, the sacrifice to Kia’s men in red is well worth it.

As per usual, there are a bunch of things I could still say, but my tendency to be long-winded and overly dramatic has whittled more of the midnight oil than I care to think about. My last thoughts of this entry go with my comrades-in-arms back home who will be suiting up for the first Ballyowen game of the season this year in a matter of hours, right around the time I will be waking up. To them I wish them the best of luck and reassure them that my presence will not be missed. As it is, my competitive nature got the best of me the other day while I was participating in a harmless arcade game. It was a soccer game standing outside of a restaurant where you have to kick and actual ball that is connected to a lever and it records a score based on how hard you kick it. I decided to give it my all and I am certain that I strained something connecting my shin to other things on my leg. While not serious from what I can tell, I plan on staying away from that arcade game for awhile, maybe forever. Either way, I expect good news from the boys in black in the near future.
Strike it up, Bally!


Once again, sorry for the long time between entries. I will aim to write another one much sooner than last time. I hope everyone enjoys my most recent update. Until then, I say goodnight and good afternoon to my friends to the West.

Friday night commenced with a potluck dinner on the rooftop of the school, featuring the collective faculty of both our school and the LCI Academy on the other side of the city. Lacking any real capacity for cooking, a colleague of mine and I found ourselves making a last minute run before the party to the local Lotte Mart where we purchased some sushi just so we could say we brought something. That same sushi was destined to meet the ground later on due to an unbalanced table and some intoxication, but I digress. More to the point, the means of intoxication was brought by the the directors themselves, meaning it was both permitted and encouraged on company grounds. The night involved American music, good conversation, a loosening of the social boundaries that divide the English teachers from the Korean teachers and some dancing that ranged from weak to wonderful (of which I took no part in).

After a nice evening with everyone, a few of us wandered downtown and continued the festivities there. We met up with a number of other friends who left the party before us so that we could celebrate one of the last nights with the teacher who is being replaced by me. It was a group that remained in tact for the duration of three different bars before the Brit and I randomly encountered the Korean friends that I mentioned in the last post. We both decided to remain in their company as plans to sally forth to a Nae-rae-bang materialized. Both reluctant and expectant, we made it over there and set ourselves up in a private room where a a table surrounded by a wrap-around booth and all the paraphernalia for karaoke awaited us. It took a little while for anyone to get the nerve up to be the first one, but eventually our Korean "hosts" took the first step and belted out a melody for the all present to listen. The night continued on with an array of performances, as our ears were both graced and gutted by the varying degrees of mellifluous and raucous noises that escaped our mouths. I still remain apologetic for subjecting others to the combined train crash that was my terrible voice and my tone deaf control of that voice along with my general ignorance of the majority of words to the majority of songs. The rest of the night included a various number of different people coming in and out of the room and trays of different foods and bottles of soju that flowed rather freely. I will not report on this forum the time of night/day that we exited that nae-rae-bang but it was a thorough experience of the Korean culture.

Saturday was somewhat like the eye of the storm of a four day weekend. We went downtown but nothing of any real note occurred. One regret that emerged from that day was the fact that we didn't make it out anywhere beyond Gwangju. While it was a good weekend much of it wasn't spent doing things that couldn't be done back in the States.

Sunday was a day well spent at the Memorial Park. The weather was beautiful so the Brit, Chris and I went out in the afternoon and basked in the sun beneath the shadows of the memorial's majesty. Chris held court on a rock with his rabbit, Moochi, as Koreans approached him unabashedly to get a look at his pet. Terry and I whiled the hours playing around with the football, passing it and juggling. Later on, as the sun began to retreat behind the mountains beyond the city limits, a trio of Korean high schoolers approached us with interest in challenging us to a game of soccer. We complied by setting up a water bottle on either end of our makeshift field and dividing into two sides, East vs. West. We began at an easy pace with neither side showing an advantage but as soon as they put the first ball into our Dasani, I deemed it necessary to make the Ballyown Soccer Club proud. The result was a 3-2 victory featuring a hat-trick and a goal that went between the defender's legs by yours truly. The West had won...

The night was spent eating at a Korean barbecue (again) and then heading over to a local bar to drink a few pints, eat a LOT of complimentary popcorn and watch our Kia Tigers fall after getting the tying run up to bat in the ninth. The game was unfortunate but the night was still good.

On Monday, we headed out to the mountains to check out some scenery. When I first heard that we were going to the mountains I was expecting more of a hiking experience but when we met up with Jeremy, the head English teacher and organizer of the excursion, we learned that it would be a bit different than expected. We did a little bit of walking, were surrounded by some pretty impressive natural sites and got to see another Buddhist temple that seemed less out of place than the one in the center of the city but it wasn't more than 30 minutes of walking before we stopped at one of a few little tent-huts where we were able to dine on some very authentic Korean food and Korean beer for lunch. Afterward, we took a bus back into the city proper where we fell asleep right up until our stop and were rather lucky to have not missed it. The night went similar to the last one with the exception that we did dinner at that same bar instead of at the Korean barbecue and we watched Korean Women's Bowling instead of Tiger baseball.

It was decided the night before that Tuesday (the last day of our vacation) would be spent barbecuing at the park. We had such a good time there that we had to go back. There we encountered a couple from work that was enjoying yet another day of sunlight at the park and convinced them to take part in our Australian-American pastime. I purchased the grill my self with the express purpose of using it many times again in the future and we split the cost for the food. Unfortunately, it was only a few white charcoals and half-cooked sausages later that we were told we couldn't barbecue in the park. Our only alternative was to retreat back into the confines of our neighborhood and awkwardly continue our barbecue in the street outside of a closed mini-mart. It wound up not being what we anticipated but our unwillingness to allow our spirits be dashed managed to preserve our good time. The rest of the day slid gently into an evening of recuperation and preparation for a return to the grind. A grind that will only be three days long.

Today was our first day back from the vacation and all things are well and accounted for. The weekend is missed but the nearness of the next one makes any difficulty palatable.

A happy birthday goes out to a number of friends and acquaintances that have had birthdays in the recent days and weeks. Maybe next year...

I think I speak for countless generations in America that were born anytime before 1990 or so when I stress the tragic magnitude of my misfortune that is being in a country that celebrates a Childrens Day at a time in my life that numerically places me beyond the cusp of childhood. I still hear the echoing laments from children of a decade ago wishing that somewhere in the line of days dedicated to Mothers, Parents, Flags and Trees there might be a single one commemorating our overlooked though essential niche of society. Now that I am finally country that recognizes this gift of youthful naivete I can do so only as bygone celebrant.

On the other hand, such festivities do warrant two days off, yielding a four day weekend that begins in 9 minutes. ( I have the interesting fortune of having a prep period at the very end of the day). Before I touch upon my plans for these four days I feel the need to first recount the things that have already happened.

Last night was my first night hanging out with actual Korean friends. I realize you readers out there are stunned and amazed by such a feat but I will go further to say that I was the only foreigner among the three of us. I will also qualify thos achievement by admitting that they both speak English rather well and that one of them was a dual English/Korean major at university. This basically means I was talking to two individuals who spoke my language but happened to grow up in Korea. Nothing terribly spectacular but still something.

When we decided to hang out on a Thursday night I immediately assumed that it would be an early start and an early finish. This assumption was summarily dismissed when I learned that they didn't get off of work until 9:30 pm, which meant that they pretty much had the schedule that I had before I started working mornings. As I have mentioned and many of you will have assumed, this creates an opportunity or temptation to spend a late night enjoying yourself while allowing you ample time to recover and make it to work the next day. I certainly balked at the prospect of starting a night so late but it would have been rather uncharacteristic of me to decline an offer to be sociable.

The night began at around 10 o'clock when I met the first of my new friends in front of a Starbucks near where I work. We walked to a traditional Japanese restaurant and ordered food. Interestingly enough, I was in Korea, in the company of Koreans , but somehow managed to go to a Japanese restaurant and order a plate of sausage, complete with a side of kraut and kimchi. I was, by no means unhappy with what we ordered, but taken aback by the irony of the situation.


(This post was written on Friday but was interrupted by outside influences. It is now Monday evening. I apologize for the abrupt ending.)

It's Monday evening here in the sunny mountains of the Korean Penninsula and I have recently become aware of the travesty that was the first Yankee-Sox series. While the effects are mildly dulled by the distance as well as the recent 10-2 conquest of my Tigers over the Samsung Lions, I remain considerably dismayed. I thought the amount of money spent on pitching alone would be enough to have immediate results. Still, the season is young and my optimism will prevail.

As luck would have it, today was the day that my night shifts we replaced by the more traditional 9:30 to 6 shift. Unfortunately, I was unaware. The day began with the laundry process. Because I have a washer but not a dryer, I decided I was going to take my work clothes to the dry cleaner for their first cleaning, just to make sure they looked good after being washed. I have an iron, but I bought it for 11,000 won so it's reliability and effectiveness leaves much to be desired. It didn't occur to me until recently that it would actually make more sense to wash the clothes in the washer but still go to the laundromat for the dryer. That way, even if I do have some ironing to do, it will be a lot easier to deal with than if my shirts and pants were dried by hanging them in random places in the apartment. Either way, as the process began and I had one load down at the laundromat with another load in the washer I was met with the unhappy arrival of the director himself at my door. When I learned that my shift was, in fact, the morning one I offered profuse apologies and told him I would be at the school as soon as possible. This meant rushing down to the laundromat to pull the mostly dried first load while leaving the other load to sit in the washer (where it still remains at the time of this entry's publication). As the plans of men are want to do, my agenda took a rapid change and I was off to school with what dry work clothes I still had.

When I got to work I was somewhat concerned about the repercussions of this error. However, when I entered the classroom I was meant to be teaching I found the director's wife, who is also a kind of director in her own right, the apologies were coming from the other end. She felt badly that I was not informed more concretely about what I was doing and allowed me to take over the class with no difficulties. The exchange ended with both of us apologizing to each other and neither of us much worse off for the wear. The remainder of the day went rather well and I am now officially part of the typical daily grind.

As of Sunday, I have officially been in Korea for a month and it has been an interesting experience this far. The most recent week left me with little say about anything interesting with the exception that I have seen the movie Speed on television far too many times and can't imagine why anyone would have such willingness to air it on a regular basis. I have also gotten a healthy dose of Hugh Jackman, compliments of the recent unveiling of the new Wolverine movie. The weekend, on the other hand, started a little earlier for me. As I mentioned in the previous post, we now have a colonial cousin in our midst from across the pond (although, neither of us are even remotely near that pond right now). It will now be his obligation to assume to nocturnal duties that I so recently had. As it was, for the short spell of two days we shared the same shift while he observed my classes. The benefit of course being that we both had schedules that got out a little bit later but also began much later the next day. The inevitable result was a Yankee and a Brit out on the town of Gwangju. Actually, Thursday night was rather tame if not somewhat lengthy, but it held promise for Friday night when we would again share the late exit from the office.

The next night started with a trip downtown. Both of us being without cell phones and with everyone else already out, we were forced to venture out on our own. We began with a cab downtown and grabbed some food at what is called a Playboy bar but I assure everyone back home, with every ounce of my moral fiber, that it is not at ALL what it sounds like. It's actually just a Korean bar with Americanized decor. We had a couple of beers and some food before we were back on the road. Unfortunately, downtown is a series of brightly lit streets that look all the same and I, being at the helm of the venture, led us back and forth without finding a single familiar bar. The combination of my poor sense of direction, the fact that I've only been in Korea for a month and the nature of Gwangju being a city where people only speak Korean made me a very poor choice to lead, though still the more able of the two. Eventually we ran into one of the other teachers with her boyfriend who was able to direct us in the proper direction.

It was probably around 1 o' clock before our night really got a chance to get started and it began at Song's German bar where one can find a few beers with a bit of western flavor. It being the prime time for bar activity downtown, we had difficulty finding a corner to establish ourselves but eventually Terry the Brit and I were able to squeeze into a table between a group of foreigners and a group of Korean girls. It didn't take long for the four Korean girls to our one side to involve us in one of their toasts and shortly after, our twosome became a party of six. We were pleasantly surprised to learn that all four of them were proficient enough to communicate with us in English, two of them having a rather impressive handle of the language. The company was good and the obligatory round that Terry and I each had to buy wasn't all that bad to the wallet. There was discussion of venturing over to a Nae-rae Bang, which is a Korean karaoke room, but one of the girls' desire for a gin and tonic (of all drinks) brought us next door to the quintessential foreigner bar, Speakeasy. My feelings were mixed as I hoped to stay away from singing but was equally interested in seeing one of these places for myself. The rest of the night was spent here with more conversation and, though I staunchly opposed it, some dancing. I think the theory may be right that what translates into awful and erratic movements in the Statts could actually be construed as good dancing here in Korea. It seemed to work this time anyway.

Saturday night began with dinner at a new Korean barbecue place featuring the likes of Terry and myself. Afterward, we went back to see if we couldn't get Chris to join the fray before we headed back downtown. When we met him at his door he seemed in bad shape and explained promptly after that he was still recovering from the night before. Although we had a good evening ourselves, it appeared that our friend here had enjoyed himself as well during those very same hours. Though he initially showed a hesitance to come out with us, a little coaxing and cajoling managed to bump our numbers to three. From there we headed downtown and headed to Soul Train. While we were there we played some pool and met up with another teacher and two of his friends, one of which being a graduate of Michigan State who came over here and was looking to play some soccer. I told him of my similar ambitions and am hoping to see it through in the future. While we were there, Terry insisted on rounds of tequila shots as a way to assimilate better to the Korean culture. We also got to see a show involving the bartenders tossing flaming bottles, strobe lights and techno music. Apparently, this is a common occurrence though I have never been there long enough to see it before. Much later in the evening/morning, we made it to another bar where I found myself, not altogether willingly, engaged in conversation with a middle aged mailman as he showed me some of his English poetry written on a bar napkin. Unfortunately, his English poetry meant, in no way, that he was a capable English speaker and the conversation was considerably strained by a barrier that was made up of equal parts language difference and beer.

With a Friday and Saturday night well spent, the weekend was a success and we have recently been informed that a four day weekend awaits us on the other end of this week. Not entirely sure why we have Monday off, but we have Tuesday off for Children's Day which is a national holiday. I am not one to complain so I won't.

I now have my "green card" so I can get the internet which hopefully means I can get posts in more frequently. That could also mean more Skype-age so be ready America.

This is Liam Thomas signing out.

The weekdays have started to meld together a little bit. It's a little unfortunate but working the night shift has put me in a bit of a funk. The awkward hours have kinda put my schedule into a nocturnal repetition of being awake while no one else is and being at work when no one else is. It's not a big deal though. A British guy got here yesterday and he's going to be taking over next week. I haven't met him yet but I look forward to it. He is the only teacher here that isn't from the United States or Canada, so it's good for mixing it up.

My night schedule of classes doesn't usually start until 6 o'clock so when I come in at 2 I have a different task to tackle. I've been writing 10 question, multiple choice questions for short, children's stories that classes have to read. The funny thing is that I've written upwards of twenty or thirty now but they won't get used until much later so I have no idea whether they are what they need or not. I have also noticed that as the tedium of the job begins to wear on me I find myself getting a bit punchy and making the questions more humorous than what is common of most quizzes in this world. The bi-product is also questions of varying difficulty, depending on my mood at the time. The questions are actually less humorous and more just personalized. For instance, I give the Jersey Shore and Ocean City, Maryland as a possible answers for the location of one story and gave runner as a possible profession for Pablo Picasso. The more absurd possibilities came to life and died on the floor of my mind's cutting room.

I hope I don't get fired. ( Don't worry Mom and Dad, I won't. They like me here for whatever reason.)

The weekend that just passed was rather interesting if not what I expected. The plan for Friday night was to head downtown and maybe hit some of the local haunts for a sip or two. Unfortunately, I served as somewhat of an anchor in light of my 10 o clock exit from the office. As I got ready to leave, after Skyping with my buddy Brando for a spell and finishing my Chilly Chicken over Rice from Han's Deli (My new favorite food spot), I ran int my esteemed friend and colleague Chris who had realized he forgot his apartment keys at the office after a few takes of soju at dinner. Admitting to a degree of intoxication though still holding his own perfectly well, we left the office together and made plans for the remainder of the evening.

Having mutually arrived at the decision to cab it downtown, we alit upon our chariot only for me to spot a few of our friends sitting outside one of the nearby restaurants. Though we had only been in the cab for a minute or so and been moving for maybe half a block, we willfully abandoned our 2200 won to the driver and went to see what our friends were up to. It only took the offer of a couple beers and chairs at their table for us to slowly see the agenda of the evening turn in a different direction. Some more beers and a few prizes from a claw game situated across the street from our restaurant later our thoughts of downtown were drowned by the arrival of a new pitcher of OB Blue.

Very little happened in the way of activity on Friday night but I was given the opportunity to taste yet another bizarre delicacy of the Orient. As we sat, drank and talked, a bowl on the table was brought to my attention. Lying within the bowl, I could see what, from afar, could have passed for tiny hazelnuts or something else of the sort. However, it was quickly brought to my attention that these little morsels were, in fact, silk worm larvae. Being rather certain that these unborn critters would be of greater value to me if given the chance to grow and spin expensive fabrics I wasted no time expressing my disinterest in eating them. However, knowing that those worms-to-be sitting in the bowl were destined to never become the spinners of fabric finery, my argument to hold off their consumption was paper thin and bitterly contested by the others. I could do nothing else but give in. It was only shortly after that I was instilled with a new conviction- that silkworm larvae taste like dirt and that I will never eat another one as long as I live. While I encourage trying new things, my advice to any other future wanderers that encounters this cuisine is to stay away.

Saturday welcomed me to a leisurely morning and a lunch of sushi from the restaurant on the corner of my street. It is a place that I am pretty sure I will be frequenting often during my time here in light of its proximity, economy and quality. I spent some time at the Memorial Park across the street juggling the soccerball and looking, in vain, for Chris, who had fallen asleep underneath a patch of trees after he told me to meet him there. Following a few more lazy Saturday activities I met up with Chris again and we made it over to Os.O where we took part in
some traditional Korean barbecue. From there, the night got interesting.

With most of the food finished and dinner winding down, we were asked by two young gentlemen at the table across from us to join them in a soju shot. Extremely eager to finally see this tradition of Korean hospitality at work we both graciously obliged. From there we were invited to some more shots as our two new friends showed us how to mix and match the spread of sides that comes with the barbecue properly. All the while, our limited understanding of each other's language yielded little more than the exchange of soju and fruitless hand gestures. Still, they were pesistent. Essentially speaking, what we gleaned from the conversation as a whole was that they wanted us to teach them some of our language (which is rather common, apparently) and for us to go with them to a soju bar to continue drinking. While Chris and I were torn between being considerate and taking our Saturday night elsewhere we finally gave in and agreed to go with them to the soju bar.

This where it gets a little strange.

Clearly, our two friends had been drinking more and for a longer time than us at this point and while one of them was rather quiet the other was showing signs of an altered mind. At first, he was just a little bit louder and insistent on things as he labored to communicate with us. However, tradition crossed with the peculiar when our boisterous fellow purchased a dozen or so jelly-rice rolls for dessert. What we noticed earlier, and I found very interesting, was as we took our soju shots it was customary for me to pour one of their shots and for one of them to pour mine. I considered this to be a very commendable practice. However, when I began to realize that this friend of ours was looking to imitate this practice with these dessert rolls I began to become uneasy. Suddenly, this demonstration of respect was becoming a bit awkward for an individual with American sensibilities who sees the prospect of a man feeding another man anything particularly unnerving. Still, for the sake of the cultural divide, Chris and I conceded to save face. It was bizarre, but we persevered. Unfortunately, though somewhat lucky for me, the more outwardly drunk of the gentlemen began to get a bit touchy-feely with the American seated next to him, Chris. Trapped in a booth where this guy was on the outside, my American ally could do nothing but look at me helplessly. Unwilling to be rude but with his personal space being severly compromised we made every effort to relinquish ourselves of their company by using a combined tactic of convincing them that we had work in the morning (A Sunday) and that Chris was drunk, tired and sick. It took an incredible degree of delicate diplomacy but in the end we managed to liberate ourselves from our native captors. It was then that Chris, who is Phillippino himself, declared that he will never go out with another white American in Korea again, explaining that his experience with another one of our friends at dinner the night before was much akin to the one I just narrated.

Sunday afternoon was spent checking out what downtown was like during the day and taking a look at the marketplace. We checked out one of the shopping outlets where we found a Popeye's Chicken restaurant and where I felt compelled to purchase some fried chicken for the betterment of my American arteries. I also made it to what is known as "the foreigner store" where you can buy some of those essentials from home that you can't find elsewhere on the penninsula. The final stop, and perhaps the most interesting, was Yongdong market, which is one of those places straight out of Anthony Bourdain's: No Reservations. Unfortunately, getting to the market during the later afternoon hours is ill-advised. At this point in the day, the smell of the now less than fresh fish and the accompanying swarms of flies outweighs the novelty and thrill of market shopping.

Sunday ended with a few of us heading over to our friend's house who made us some chili made with spices sent from home by her grandma. The food and company was delicious and it was my first meal that felt at all "home-cooked" since I've been here. It was a fine finish to a good weekend.


Thanks for coming out. For now, my pal Josh Groban and I bid you adieu.