Christmas

There is something particularly unique for me about being an expat during Christmas. Maybe it is because Christmas is such a major and distinct part of American culture, that there's nothing quite like Christmas to really drive the point home that we're not in fucking Kansas anymore. Or Ohio. Lot's of corn either way, so really what's the difference.

In a lot of ways, this is the most Christmasy I've ever felt, perhaps in an effort to compensate for the lack of what I'm used to having rammed down my throat. Now don't get me wrong, Christmas is definitely a thing here in Korea. There's signs of Christmas all over. Christmas music drifts out of the storefronts as you walk down the street, there's a modest amount of decorations to be seen, and there's a couple public Christmas trees here and there. We decorated the school, and had a Christmas party for the kids, complete with one of the teachers dressing up as Santa and handing out presents that the parents had brought in for them.

But it is definitively not the Christmas that I am used too. Everything was open both last night and today. There was no obvious difference in the hustle and bustle of the city in any way. And actually, that turned out to be my least favorite part of Christmas in Korea. It's funny, because in past years I've complained about how boring Christmas is, because there's nothing to do, and I have no one to celebrate it with. But also, everything is just so quiet, and that's such a unique thing, that I kind of missed it today. It just didn't feel like Christmas with people...you know...doing stuff.

On the other hand, Christmas in Korea is infinitely more secular. It's doesn't in any way have the feel or vibe of a deeply religious holiday. I find this interesting, because I don't believe that Christmas is a holiday acknowledged or endorsed by the government in any official capacity here, whereas is is in the US, though there is obviously a mostly universal unofficial recognition of it here. Also, I find the secularist Korean Christmas incredibly ironic, because Korea is much more uniformly Christian that the USA. I mean seriously, except for the bud-hist monks that actually live at the temples (which seem to exist mostly to give people a unique vacation option) the entire country is Christian. I'm guessing somewhere in the range of 95% of Koreans would identify themselves as such, though this is just a guess and based off of absolutely no actual statistical information.

But you don't get the vibe of it being a religious holiday at all. There aren't any religious decorations (read: no manger scenes outside churches. Though to be fair, where would they put them?). There isn't a mass flight to churches on Christmas Eve for Midnight Mass (I'm not even sure churches had a midnight mass). And I don't think any more people attended church today than normally do on Sunday. And it's not that there aren't any religious nut-jobs here. There's a fringe group that actually seems to believe that the second coming of Christ happened about 40 years ago. It was in Korea of course. Jesus #2 is Korean. I found that funny. But still, most people seem to have a very relaxed view of the holiday.

All and all it seems to me that Koreans have accepted Christmas for what it is, for what we so desperately want to deny it as in the US: nothing more than an excuse to exchange gifts and time with loved ones. And really, I think that's totally appropriate. That's what the winter holiday has been about for a significant part of recorded history, regardless of what anybody wanted to call it. Family and presents. And I think a gift giving holiday is good. It doesn't have to be a major retail extravaganza as it has become in the states in the past few decades. I don't think you have to get big elaborate expensive gifts, or feel pressured to get something for every single person you know. But it's nice to have an excuse to buy, or make, a little something for those who are important to you. You know, as a way to let them know that they are important to you. That pretty much seems to be how Koreans celebrate Christmas, and I totally support that.

So being in Korea has changed my feelings on Christmas. I appreciate the secular aspects of it much more now that the religious aspects aren't being forced upon me. I also more greatly appreciate the aspect of having an excuse to spend time with friends and family now that, you know, I can't. I missed you all much more than usual today. Really, I'm surprised by how much I missed the Christmas that I am used to. I found myself wishing everyone last night a Merry Christmas, which is not a thing I've ever really made a point of doing before. But like I said, with all the silly religion removed, I guess I've realized the value in having a winter time family/friends based holiday, whatever the hell you want to call it.

So Merry Christmas to All.
     -Mongoose

The Simple Life

Hmmm. Life. What an interesting concept. Not the concept of life as a miracle, or a statistical improbability. Not the spiritual or philosophical question of "What is Life?" or "What does it mean to be alive?". Not even the question of how to define life, or determine what is considered to be alive. Life as in the simple process of living, and doing, you know, life things.

I mean, what are we really supposed to do with this Life thing anyway? Is there a proper way to spend it? Is there some sort of goal, or thing to be accomplished? Can you really fail at life? Or is it really just opened ended, like the most realistic sandbox video game EVER!!!...? Certainly some people feel happy and satisfied with their lives, and some people don't. Is that the whole point? To be happy and satisfied? And if so, why are some people happy and satisfied and others are not? Is it because of any tangible or definable detail in their lives? Is it because of the things they have, or things they do, or the people they spend time with? Is there a right way to spend time and a wrong way to spend time?

When I lived in Cleveland, I was not consistently happy or satisfied. I had a job that I mostly enjoyed, lived in a beautiful house with my best friend, and had a large circle of very close friends. Yet, on a day to day basis, I was not happy. Certainly I had a lot of fun. There were parties, and get togethers, and camping events that I looked forward to and loved. But in between all of those, there was just a bunch of....boring life things. Paying bills, and cooking food, cleaning all of the things, going to the store to buy necessary stuff, running errands in general. And these necessary tasks never went away! There was no sense of completion, because they needed to be done again and again, week after week, month after month. I felt like I was drowning in an endless sea of mundane tasks. These things weren't fun, they weren't exciting, but they filled the majority of my time day to day, during the in between times when I was waiting for the next fun thing. And so since most of the time I had to do stuff that I didn't really want to do, and I only got to spend a little bit of time doing the things I did really wanted to do, I found that it was difficult to feel a real sense of satisfaction.

Of course, these repetitive, mundane tasks are, in fact, life. They comprise the foundation of existing as an adult in this world. Everyone has them. No one gets out of it. So, realizing this, I made a decision. I decided that upon moving to Korea, I would change my perspective, and start learning to enjoy just living. I was determined to live without looking ahead, without a goal, without simply waiting around for the next party, the next time I got to have fun. I wanted to simply find happiness and satisfaction in my day to day mundane life.

Well, that didn't happen. I came here, and at first EVERYTHING was exciting, and nothing was mundane, and I was scared and elated, and emotionally charged pretty much ALL the time, and of course I loved every minute of it. But then that went away, the culture shock eased, I started to get used to it, and those pesky little mundane bits of existence slowly crept their way back into...you know...life. But the first few weeks had been so intense, that I wasn't even used to them anymore. They showed up almost like a surprise. Like an annoying friend that you didn't invite to the party, but then they show up anyway, and you're like, "God damn it, not you again!"

And so for the first couple months of being here, I fell back into the pattern of just trying to get through my mundane week full of necessary tasks, just trying to survive until the weekend when I could have fun again.

And then I got fired. And then I was homeless. And stuff was crazy. And then I went to India.

And something happened in India. You see, at the Ashram there really wasn't any fun to be had. It was peaceful, and relaxing, but certainly not "fun". There wasn't anything to occupy my time except mundane tasks. In fact, there weren't even really enough of those to fill the vast emptiness of time I had. There were no computers or video games to tick away the empty hours with. No one to party or drink with. There was just meditating, eating, and....and not a whole lot. For the first week it was actually almost maddeningly boring. But I started finding things to do. I started exercising every day. I volunteered in the kitchen doing dishes. I went to the library and read a lot. And I found myself starting to feel peaceful in my lack of excitement. I found myself starting to enjoy the mundanes of each day. I was happy while I was doing dishes. I was happy while I was showering, and doing my laundry. I was free from having to worry about what was going to be happening later, or next weekend. There was nothing in the future to think about, there was only the present moment.

And so I reconnected with my desire to simply enjoy living, and in fact found the mental space that would allow me to do so. I brought it back with me to Korea.

So now I've been at the new job for three weeks, moved in and settled at my new house for two weeks, and finally, for the first time, I find myself enjoying living. I work quite a lot, but it's satisfying, enjoyable work. And when I get off work, I go and exercise. And then I go to the grocery store and buy food to cook dinner with. And then I go home and I cook dinner. And then I clean my room, and prepare materials for class the next day, and then I go to sleep. I repeat this Monday through Thursday. And I've come to find this routine, mundane way of life extremely satisfying and fulfilling. There's nothing to worry about and no expectations. There's no goal to be accomplished or worked towards. There's simply life, and being alive, and doing necessary life things, and for some reason I'm enjoying it like never before. It's peaceful.

I live in a much quieter area of the city than I did before. It doesn't really feel that much like a city. It's a quiet, more residential area. I live in a divided house instead of a 23 story apartment building. There's one little corner bar and no restaurants in the blocks surrounding my new place, instead of literally more of both than I could have ever counted in the neighborhood I lived in before. School is within walking distance, so I don't take the subway except on the weekends. At first I was a little sad about it, because I did really enjoy the high energy dynamics of my previous location. But it's growing on me quite a bit.

I also work quite a bit more than I did before, around 10 hours a day. But I enjoy the work considerably more. I have more freedom and creativity with my lessons than I did before. I'm given very little in the way of materials, often only a single page in one of the books with a picture of two people having a short and basic conversation. "What will you do after school today?" "I will go shopping with my mother. What about you?" "I will play soccer with my friend." And then I have to teach a 40 minute lesson based off of that.

One day the lesson covered language used in a store. "Where are the....How much is the....I'll take three....". So I went in with a stack of fake money and a jar of jelly beans. After going over the language, I gave each student $20, and I sat down at a desk with the jelly beans. Each student took a turn coming up to me and asking, "Do you have any jelly beans? How much are they? I'd like (however many they could buy for $20)". It was really funny too, because I kept changing the price. I'd sell the jelly beans for $2 a piece to one student, and then for $10 a piece to the next. Then I helped them figure out that if I wasn't giving them a good price, they could try and buy some of the jelly beans that I had given another kid for cheap. It was great fun.

Also, we do fun things, and every day is not the same. One day we went on a field trip, which was awesome. I feel like such a responsible adult, taking kindergartners on a bus and telling them to fasten their seat belt. It's weird, and creepy, but surprisingly satisfying. We also do performances. For example, I'm teaching my class the song "Santa Baby" for the Christmas party on Friday. I even made up a little dance for them to do. It's hilarious. And I wrote a little play for them to do for their graduation performances at the end of February. I'll start teaching that to them in January. And the kids are so much fun too. Sometimes I feel less like a teacher and more like a much older brother. Luckily I had a good example in that department. Part of it is that there's no taboo about being physically playful and/or affectionate with your students in Korea. The girls love to give me hugs and they try to sit on my lap sometimes, while the boys love to horse around and play fight. I picked up one of the boys the other day, turned him upside down, and threatened to put him in the trash can. He seemed to love that. God, I'm becoming so good with children it's almost sickening.

So it seems I've figured out how to enjoy just living, more or less. I feel like an adult. I feel all responsible and stuff. What's happening to me?

India, Psilosophy, and Spirituality

I want to take a moment to say, before I jump into this next post, that I am overwhelmed by the positive reactions I have received to this blog. When I started this blog when I first left for Korea, I thought of it more as a personal exercise in regular writing, as well as something of a public diary to help me keep a record of my experiences. I thought maybe there would be about a dozen people, if I was lucky, that would read it on occasion.

Yet it's become clear to me that actually quite a few people are reading my blog fairly regularly. According to the statistics tracking page, around 50 people view the page of each new post within a week after I publish it. Of course, 50 regular readers may not sound like a lot, not when compared to professional writers who's blogs have subscribers in the hundreds, and page viewers in the thousands. But I'm not discussing world events, and social trends, and things that everyone cares about. I'm just rambling about my life. And to think that there's somewhere in the range of 50 people that miss me, and who care enough about what I'm doing to sit down and patiently scroll through my long rambling posts about nothing of significance....well it's rather heartwarming.

And the responses I've gotten from a number of you, both publicly and privately, only serve to support this feeling. In the month since my post about the insanity of my arrival in India, I've received an incredible amount or reactions from people eager to share their feelings of amazement, concern, amusement, and of course love. And a I continue to be surprised myself every time someone asks me "When is the next blog post? We're waiting for the next blog post!". The apparent reality that not only are people reading these posts, but that they are in fact looking forward to them is one that I admittedly fail to entirely understand, albeit remain profoundly appreciative of.

And most incredible of all, is what writing this blog has become to me personally. It's become something of a lifeline that connects me to all of you, to my life back home. Without it, I think I would feel completely disconnected. But when I sit down to type a post, for an hour or so I completely forget that I'm even in Korea. Suddenly I am simultaneously relaxing in a hammock at Pennsic, having a beer with Derek and Tim, eating dinner with my parents, and sharing amazing stories with all of the many people who I love so dearly. I'm reminded just how many close friends I have, a number that astounds me truly.

Additionally, I've found that writing about my experiences helps give me a greater appreciation of them. It's funny, but being an expat, being on the other side of the world, quickly loses the glimmer that you imagine it must have. It quickly turns into...well, life. It becomes mundane, the status quo, and it's easy to forget that you're actually doing anything extraordinary. But when I write for an audience that still lives the life I left, I manage to gain a third person perspective on the things that I myself am doing. I find myself rereading a post and saying to myself, "Wow, it didn't seem that exciting when it was happening, but I guess I'm not exaggerating." (The exception to this would be my arrival in India, which really DID feel that incredible when it was happening.)

So yea, blogging has been good for me, and I am extraordinarily appreciative of the support I am receiving in regards to it. I am now no longer homeless, no longer jobless, and as I settle back down into a bit of a routine, I intend to start posting with a degree of regularity again. My goal, as before, is one post every Sunday.

So, when last we left our hero (that would be me), he (that is, I) had finally made it to Chennai, India, enduring and overcoming countless setbacks in the process. (Didn't I use this type of intro once before?)

India was my third visited country going overseas from North America. Israel was the first, and then of course Korea. Israel and Korea are both considered "developed" countries by whatever international standards seem to matter. India, however is not. It is usually labeled as "developing" because of the growth that it is experiencing. But this term, I think, misrepresents the truth of the situation. A vast portion of the Indian population is incredibly impoverished. I was not prepared for some of the things I saw, the way I observed people going about their life, the conditions that they inhabit. It was both fascinating, and depressing. It's not just that India doesn't yet have the facilities and physical infrastructure that we are used to in so called "developed" countries. It's that they simply don't have a system of organization to handle things we consider basic, such as trash collection.

This picture was taken on the side of the road. It is one of many such locations where people seem to just dumb garbage randomly. Emaciated dogs would pick through it looking for something edible. In the month that I was there, none of the half a dozen spots like this within a 5 minute walk from the ashram showed any signs of an attempt at garbage collection. Speaking of emaciated dogs....

But truthfully, this isn't surprising when there are people in the society who are so poor that they live out of grass huts that they managed to build in the midst of their more fortunate neighbors:

I certainly don't want to give the impression that my experience was entirely negative. These were just a few of the more shocking images that I saw on this trip. These are a few pictures that give the clearest indication of just how stark the difference is between an undeveloped country like India and life as we know it.

The Ashram, on the other hand, was absolutely gorgeous. Breathtaking even.

In fact there was something distinctly Pennsic like  to staying at the ashram. Well, a Pennsic without booz or cigarettes, without bonfires, drums, or dancing, where you wake up at 5:00 AM and go to bed at 9:30 PM... Ok so I realize that doesn't sound anything like Pennsic, and admittedly a large part of it had to to with the weather. It was 80 degrees and sunny for the majority of my time there, and when there were thunderstorms is was the warm kind of rain that makes you want to run around getting soaking wet stomping barefoot in puddles (which I did at every opportunity). But it was more than the weather, it was the communal aspect of things. It was the way everybody pitched in, either cooking, or washing dishes, or gardening, or making tools. It was the way walking around people would smile at each other, even if they hadn't been introduced. It was the way that if you were sitting by yourself, people would come up and talk to you, and try and get to know you. These were the things that reminded me of Pennsic (along with the distinctly August like weather), and in fact helped to give me perspective on what the most important aspects of Pennsic (and the life I would like to lead) actually are.

But, after a few days it became apparent...there was something missing too, something that made it distinctly not Pennsic. And at first it wasn't altogether apparent what exactly that was, though it soon became clear. There was something not quite right with the people. This is hard to describe, because as mentioned above, it was more or less a social quality that made it Pennsic like in the first place. But despite the communal aspect, and the overwhelming friendliness, the people, how shall I put this, were less....substantive. There was a shallowness that is altogether nothing like what we think of as shallowness. There was an emptiness of personality that was in stark contrast to the fullness of the life they led. They were all just so...spiritual.

And now we came to one of the greatest conundrums that I face in my rather spiritual life. I don't like spiritual people, or at the least I don't like people who have dedicated themselves to spirituality. Which is funny, because in many ways I have had, for the majority of my life, the single continuous focus of spiritual understanding. I have researched, studied, and participated in almost every major spiritual system, and a good number of the minor ones. I can hold my own in a debate (and have done so) with PhD's of both Philosophy and Theology. But perhaps a major reason for my having bounced around so much is that any system I get involved in, I quickly discover that I just don't really fit in with the people associated with it.

And whats even more extraordinary is that I have found that the very dedicated participants of pretty much every system are difficult for me to relate to in the exact same way! Like I said, it's a shallowness, but it's not a shallowness of them being obsessed with clothes or popularity, or whatever we usually think of as shallow. It's quite the opposite, in that their shallowness is derived from a complete lack of interest in anything material whatsoever. It's simply a lack of depth. The entirety of their existence revolves around The System and the tenants ascribed by it. They relinquish personal discretion, putting everything to the test of what someone else says they should judge things by. And this is infinitely frustrating for me, because it's not at all who I am, and yet I am undeniably spiritual, and so where does that leave me exactly?

In fact, my spirituality is based around the the concept that my own personal discretion is the most sacred thing available to me. Essentially, I am actually Agnostic. Agnosticism being the philosophical tenant not that "I do not know", as it is commonly interpreted, but that "I can not know."  This is echoed in the primary thesis of the philosophy of Descartes who basically said that the only thing you could ever know is that you are. This I am certain to be true. However, given that you can not actually know anything else, all you are able to do is believe. And belief is essential to life. Even if we can not know, we can still believe, and all of us choose to do so even when we mistake that belief for knowledge. Given that, I recognize that all of my spiritual thoughts are nothing more than beliefs that can never be known. Still, I chose to believe them, because after all, what other choice do I have? But I have come to hold these beliefs through the exercise of my own personal discretion. I only believe what I believe because I have weighed my beliefs against other potential beliefs and made a decision that I myself have found to be the most logical with regards to my own personal experience and understanding. This is the most that anybody can ever do. And I have an great deal of difficulty  relating to people who have sacrificed their own discretion in order to base their beliefs on the discretion of another.

I find that the majority of my friends consider themselves to be either Pagan or Atheist. At a glance these seem like very oppositional philosophies, but when thought of in terms of the encouragement of personal discretion, they are found to be remarkably similar creeds. Both are modern movements presented in juxtaposition to the (predominantly Christian) religious view of sacrificing intellectual independence to an exterior source of "knowledge". Modern Paganism is an incredibly open ended spirituality that essentially allows the participant to custom tailor their practice in whatever way they see fit, while Atheism is a philosophy that basically says, "Fuck you, I'm not gonna believe anything that you can't show me." I personally really appreciate the self-empowerment expressed by both of these philosophies, and this is why I predominantly associate with adherents to these ways of thought. Yet, with regards to Atheism I personally believe that there are aspects to the universe that can not be shown but only experienced, and with regards to to Paganism I find that more than anything it has mostly developed into a social counter-culture, and does not present the opportunity for any significant spiritual understanding. So where does that leave me? I'm a Spiritual Agnostic with mostly Pagan and Atheist friends. Yea....I'm not really sure what to make of that either.

All the same, the meditation practice that I learned and practiced while at the ashram is an incredibly valid one. To say that I can not relate entirely to the aspirants, or to say that I can not dedicate myself wholeheartedly to the system, is not to say that I gained nothing at all from my time there. In fact, I can now say with a higher degree of confidence then ever before, that I can meditate. I now know exactly what this means, and what it can do. I discovered realms of consciousness within realms of consciousness that are immensely difficult to describe with words. I obtained states of inner peace that I have never known before. So yes, I certainly think there is something to this method of meditation. I intend to incorporate it, in some respect, into my life from here on. But I can not say that I am a dedicant to this particular system. I can not say that I give myself and my discretion over to those who claim to be the masters of reality. I can not immerse myself in the social community of those that eat and breath this style of mediation. It just doesn't feel right. And as I said, "do what feels right" is the most sacred tenant that I follow.

So fast forward a couple of weeks. New home, new job, and to some degree, new perspective. I finally feel like I'm becoming accustomed to life here. When I came to Korea, part of the goal was to get away from the habit of living for the next event, waiting for the next party, or the next time I could have fun. I wanted to live a life where I could simply enjoy living, where the mundane aspects of life were something to be appreciated. I never managed to find that state of mind with my previous job, or in my previous living location. But this neighborhood is peaceful instead of dynamic, and this job is fulfilling instead of monotonous. And one week into it, I find that I can be happy simply doing what needs to be done. Maybe the meditations helps a bit too.

More details on the new life next week though. Also I plan to post a couple photo albums, either on here or on facebook, in the days ahead. Until then, much love as always.

        -Mongoose

The East Indian "WTF?" Company, or: How to Survive in the Jungle Without a Credit Card

If you are a mother, particularly if you are my mother, and in general if you typically want to believe that I'm safe, not getting into trouble, not testing my limits of survival etc., than you may want to skip this particular post.

However, if you've resigned yourself to the fact that I'm a complete clutz and a total moron, if you've accepted the fact that worrying about me from afar wont keep me safe, if you have some modicum of confidence that despite myself I will manage to find a solution to any situation, and if you want to hear all about my latest and completely insane adventure, keep on reading.

I'm not exaggerating by the way. This is absolutely ridiculous. 24 hours in India, and the past 2 and a half months in Korea seem like child's play. One adventure is dwarfed by the next. I hope you realize by this point that "adventure" typically has come to mean "fucking things up as much as possible and somehow managing to get out relatively in tact.

But before we get to India, lets go back just a bit. A little over two weeks ago, I posted that I would soon be homeless and jobless, and I want to at least tell you how that went. Homelessness in Korea was strangely liberating. There was a freedom that I've never quite felt before. It was quite an effort to pack up my apartment into boxes, and move the majority of it over to my one friends house for storage. After that I took everything I needed for day to day life, a few articles of cloths, a towel, toothbrush etc., over to my other friends very tiny apartment where I lived for a week while making plans to come to India. I kept surprisingly busy. I spent my afternoons exploring new parts of the city. I got my affairs settled with India, with the Korean Government, and with my new school. I watched movies with my temporary roommate and made her dinner a couple times. It was a nice week. Not too much to mention, but I did want to mention it.

So...India. Wow.

I packed lightly for India. Just a couple pairs of pants, a couple shirts, a blanket, and bathroom stuff as far as checked luggage went. That all fit into my duffel bag, and only filled it slightly more than half way. Then I had a small checked back with my ipad, my important documents, a novel for the flight, etc. Leaving Korea everything went smoothly. I grabbed 300,000 won (about $300) from the bank. I figured it would be a good deal more than I would need, but its good to have a safety net. I caught a Bus to the airport, got through the airport just fine, and got on my plane with no problems.

The plain stopped in Hong Kong on the way to New Delhi. It wasn't a layover exactly, just a stop. I didn't have to change planes. I fact, I wasn't even allowed to get off. But I did get too see Hong Kong from the air. Beautiful city. Reminded me a bid of San Francisco with it's city built in the hills style, as well as the fog. Not what I ever Imagined Hong Kong to be, but beautiful.

And then I get to New Delhi. I had a 15 hour layover in New Delhi, which I wanted to take as an opportunity to explore just a bit. The Ashram was a bit in the country, and I knew once I got there I wouldn't have another opportunity to see "Modern India". I had booked a room in a very cheap hotel, and my plan was to get a cab there, get up early, and do a bit of sightseeing before going back to the airport for my flight at 1:15 PM.

This is where things start to get crazy. I go to exchange my money, but it turns out that I can't. The Airport Bank doesn't have any interest in trading in South Korean currency. No exceptions. I ask him what I'm supposed to do. He points to the ATM machines. I go and try them, every one of them, but I have no luck. You see, I only have a card for my Korean Bank account, and an expired credit card. Both of my valid credit cards are in the United States with Derek (Turtle). And the machines aren't accepting my Korean Bank Card.

So I'm kind of stranded. I'm have no valid currency, and no way of getting any. I have no working phone with which to contact anyone. I have no way of paying a Taxi to take me to my hotel. I feel very very stuck. Well, it could be worse, at least I have my passport.

So for the very first time in my life, I find myself in the unfortunate position of having to beg strangers for money. It's called "spanging" or asking people for spare change. It's not a good feeling, let me tell you. But I figured if I could pull together about 800 rupees, it would be enough to get to my hotel tonight, and back to the airport in the morning. I knew once I made it to Chennai and met up with my meditation group, I would be able to get things taken care of.

I made it to about 300 rupees when a taxi driver came over and promised he could take me to a place where they could change my money. I told him they wouldn't change it in the airport, but he said "don't worry don't worry, in India, anything is possible." I decided to trust him because, really, what other choice did I have.

So we're driving, and he's making phone calls trying to find a money changer who would accept Korean currency. Unfortunately, after about 30 minutes, he's still had no luck. So he says to me, "Is ok, ok. Do not worry. We get you to your hotel tonight, and in the morning the banks open, and we get you your money." And he asks me for the address for the hotel. I hand it to him. He looks at it. "What is the block number?" "What do you mean? I'm not sure, that's the address I copied from their website." "Yes, but this area that you write is very big area. 700 hotels there. You need block number" "I don't know, that's the entire address that they had for me to copy." "Oh no, oh no. Not good. But don't worry, don't worry. I take care of everything."

So we drove to the general direction of the address, and asked around, but nobody knew of the hotel I had booked a room in, and everyone agreed that the address was not specific enough. So my new friend, this poor cab driver who picked up someone who couldn't pay him, and yet was kind enough to do everything within his power to help me, told me again not to worry. He took me to the India Tourism Bureau, where we explained my issue with money, and my issue with the hotel. They couldn't help with the money, but they were able to find the phone number for my hotel. I call them, and say I can't find them, what is their block number. They tell me the block number, but tell me it is too late to check in. I say what do you mean it's too late, I have a reservation, I've already paid. They say sorry, after Midnight, no check ins. I say it wouldn't be after midnight if they had provided a complete address on their website. They sorry again, no exceptions. I hang up.

So now I have no money, no phone, and no place to sleep. I explain this all to my new friend the unlucky cap driver who ended up taking care of me. He bought me a hamburger from McDonalds India. It was surprisingly delicious. He said, "Not to worry, not to worry, I take care of everything." I was starting to doubt this mantra of his, but I was appreciative of his optimism and his confidence, as well as his loyalty, for it probably would have been in his financial best interest to ditch me ages ago. I ask him, can he take me back to the airport and I'll just sleep in the terminal? Not possible. They would not let me check in until three hours before my flight, and if I try to sleep in the lobby, they will arrest me. I ask if there's a place safe enough for me to sleep on the street. Not in India there isn't, even if I don't have anything valuable....such as money.

Eventually we find a hotel that will let me check in, and that will let me pay in the morning in stead of upfront. My new friend has been acting as a translator all night by the way, I never really mentioned that. He explains my situation to the hotel, and they make some calls. They find an exchanger that will accept Korean Currency, but will only give me 6,300 Rupees for it. It should have been worth almost 13,00 Rupees, so it's not a good deal. The hotel will cost 4,800 rupees, leaving me with only 1,500 rupees for the next 3 weeks, less than 1/10 of what I had planned. It doesn't feel like a good situation. He says he will check with the banks to see if he can find me a better exchange rate in the morning, but no promises. My friend says he will return in the morning to help me figure everything out. I go to bed.

I'm woken up at 9:30 AM by a knock at the door. It's my new friend, (his name is Kumar, by the way) and hes holding a thermostat and a red bag. I invite him in, and he sets the things on the table. He tells me I'm in for a treat. He told his mother all about me, and so she cooked us breakfast. In the red bag is stack of Pratta (a kind of Indian bread) and a few picked mangos (which are salty and spicy and amazingly delicious. Everything is homemade by his mother. In the thermos is fresh brewed Chai Tea. We have breakfast and he explains the situation. The hotel could not find a bank willing to accept korean currency, so we will have to work with a money exchanger who will not give me full value. I sigh, and say alright, at least it's something.

We go outside, and he will take me. Except today he does not have his cab, he is on his bike. He tells me to hop on the back and hang on, and off we go.

Let me tell you a little bit about Indian driving. There don't seem to be any clearly defined, and certainly no enforced, driving laws. No blinkers, no lanes, no discernible right of way except potentially to the person who honks the most obnoxiously. People swerving around each other, driving on both sides of the far to narrow road. Bikes darting in between vehicles going any direction as well as pedestrians, and the occasional cow. And me, in the middle of it, on the back of Kumars bike, no helmet, loving ever second of the craziness.

So we get to the money changer. He offers me 6,000 rupees, but Kumar haggles him up to 7,000 rupees for me. I take it. We go back to the hotel, I pay, the guy makes photo copies of my passport, I grab my bags, and I leave. I'm gonna grab a Taxi, but Kumar sais no, I'm short on money, he will take me on bike. I hop on again, wedge my duffel bag between the two of us, through my other bag over my shoulder, grab into the seat for dear life, and we're off. The ride takes about 50 minutes to the airport. It involves all the same craziness before, except this time a little over half of it is on the free way. This is why I said maybe mom shouldn't read. But don't worry, I survived to tell the tale. And truly, I had very little choice. Besides, I have to say...I wanted to explore New Delhi I bit. I wanted to see modern India. And truly, the adventure I had with Kumar was the best way to do it. I realized this on the way to the airport. It's a beautiful day, sunny, 78 degrees, it feels like late June in Cleveland, and I feel wonderful. Despite the problem with money, and the fact that I'm now somewhat broke, I'm very happy for the experience I've had.

We get to the airport, and I give Kumar 1000 rupees for all his trouble and help. I know that between driving me around last night, having to get fuel for his bike, letting me use his phone to call my bank, and buying me a hamburger, he might be lucky to be breaking even. I am sad that I can not offer him more. But he graciously accepts. He gives me a hug, wishes me luck, gives me his e-mail address, and tells me to look him up next time I come to New Delhi. I can not express in words how heart warming it is to meet such a generous and friendly person when you are so deeply in need. There is something truly humbling about having to rely on the kindness of strangers, but it also ends up giving you hope for humanity.

So I start to walk into the airport, and I see the security guard at the door checking passports. I reach for mine, but its not in my pocket. Fuck. I search frantically in my bag, but it's no where to be found. Double-fuck. I think back. I payed the hotel, he copied my passport, and I grabbed my bags....but did he ever hand it back? No, no he didn't. FUCK!

I look back at the road. Kumar is gone. So now I'm stranded in a country with no money, no cards, no phone, AND no passport. I think. I have just about 1000 rupees left, which isn't a lot, but it is just enough for a taxi to the hotel and back. Except I don't know where the hotel is. I don't know the hotels phone number. I don't even know the name of the hotel. West something. Yea, that's not happening. Besides, my flight to Chennai leaves in just over an hour, and if I miss that I really AM stranded, because I don't have a valid credit card with which to book a new flight or pay any penalty fees. Kumar knows where the hotel is, but the only contact info for him I have is an e-mail address, and I don't currently have any way to access the internet.

So once again, I make the only decision I can. I decide first and foremost, I need to get to Chennai. Once I meet my meditation group, everything can be worked out. From there, I can e-mail Kumar, ask him to get the phone number for the hotel, I can call them, and ask them to mail it to me in Chennai.

But, now the problem of getting through the airport without a passport. The security guard at the entrance stops me and asks for my passport. "Oh, I didn't realize I needed it to get in. I gave it to my girlfriend so I wouldn't lose it. She's already inside." He roles his eyes and waves me in. They don't ask for it at the check in counter. They print my boarding pass, I put my luggage on the belt, and they point me in the direction of security. All flights both international and domestic have to go through the same security, which means every single person has to walk by the desks where they check your passport. Fuck.

I decide my only option is to try and explain my story, and beg him to let me through. I'm determined to make it work. I have no other choice but to get to Chennai. I go up to the man and start rambling the entire story. He just looks at me confused. He says if I don't have my passport, I have to go to the police station. I try to explain that I know where it is, and that even though it's here, I can only get it back fro Chennai. This seems to really confuse him, and he points me in the direction of some special security desk and says "tell them." So I walk over to them, ready to tell them the whole convoluted story all over again, but as soon as I get over there, much to my surprise, they just stamp my boarding pass without asking any questions. I sort of stare at them for a moment, decide I'd better not questions it, and walk off to the other side of security. I get on the plane to Chennai without anyone asking to see my passport again.

The plane makes one stop before Chennai, in a city I don't know the name on. To my great relief and fortune however, the portion of the meditation group that had been traveling around, that was also due back in Chennai on the same day as me, gets on. One of the ladies from Cleveland is in this particular group, and recognizes me. I'm greeted by hugs, and welcomed, and everyone is happy to see me. For the first time since arriving in India, I feel a sense of release and of calm. Now I know everything will be ok. It turns out almost every passenger on the plane is part of the meditation organization. I tell my story of the past day, and a man hands me his smartphone. He says type my e-mail in there, and it will be sent as soon as he gets off the plane and switches off airplane-mode.

And that's mostly the end of the story. I should add, just for kickers, that my luggage didn't make it to Chennai. I filed a report of course, and am waiting to hear back from them, but yea, just one last laughable the comedy of errors that is the beginning of my trip to India. I'm not really worried about that so much though. After everything else, it really feels rather insignificant.

This morning I heard back from Kumar. He has my passport safe in his position. We've sent him the Ashram Address and he will mail it. I will have it within a week. I still haven't heard back about my luggage. But, I've gone and bought some cloths locally. These cloths remind me a lot of garb. Cotton and loose fitting. Extremely comfortable. Upon hearing the details of my story, money was thrust upon me from every direction, without allowing me the option of refusal. It really is very family like here. And I truly have nothing to fear or worry about. The Ashram is absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. I will take pictures and share details about the rest of the stay when I come back.

But I'm here, and I'm safe. I'm feeling more than ever that there really is no situation that can not be overcome with a degree of determination and a calmly optimistic outlook. And to think....I used to be afraid of getting lost in Cleveland. Lolz.

-Mongoose

False Start

You know that feeling when you take on a project or an assignment head on, and your making great progress, and feeling good about everything, only to eventually find out that you made one small mistaken that requires you to trash everything and start over? Yea, not a good feeling.

Well, I've been feeling a lot like that this past week, about my entire experience in Korea. You see, I was fired from my teaching job on Teusday.

It came as a big surprise, and felt like a punch in the gut, and I imagine the thing most of you want to know is why. Unfortunately I can't really tell you that. They couldn't give me a particularly clear or concrete reason, and I don't think they really had one except for the fact that my supervisor didn't like me. But, that's how it goes I suppose.

Now, the situation isn't as bad as it sounds. I got fired Tuesday night, had an interview Wednesday morning, was offered the position Wednesday night, and signed a new contract Thursday morning. It seems that I'm extremely employable in this city. So I still have a job. And the truth is, while I loved teaching, I had an ever lengthening list of grievances with the company I worked for. So maybe they didn't like me, but the feeling was totally mutual. I'm excited to be going to a potentially better situation.

But everything isn't exactly perfect either. So, my last day with my current company is October 21. I have to be out of my apartment by noon on the 22nd. My first day with the new company is...December 1st. And I get to move in to my new apartment on November 30. So, yea, that's potentially problematic. Luckily, I have a plan. There are a few people I know who I can crash with and store belongings with, and I'll probably divide up both my things and time between them so that I'm not too much of a burden on any one friend. Additionally, I'm trying to take a trip to India for a good chunk of that time. There's a place in India I can go and receive lodgings and food at virtually no cost. It's an Ashram that I have connections too, so I'll be meditating a lot. I'm fine with that.

But....that feeling of the false start. It's kind of a depressing thought to think that not only am I not two months into this year, but that it hasn't even started yet, and won't for another month and a half. And I've got to pack up all my things, and move again, which I hate doing. And it's going to be a month and a half of not really having a home, which is an awkward and uncomfortable feeling. And I'm going to have to stretch one paycheck for two months. *sigh*...

So, that's the latest in this adventure. The adventure remains adventurous, and I continue to impress myself with what I'm capable of accomplishing. But that doesn't mean I'm always happy about having to accomplish those things.

Um, so, with a few exceptions I've been pretty good about posting to the blog pretty regularly. With the insanity that will be the next 6 weeks of homeless unpaid vacation, I'm not making any promises for a while. I'll try to let you guys know what's going on at some point, but it's entirely possible that you might not here from me again until December. I love you all. Thank you for all of the support you have given me, and the interest you have shown in what I'm doing.

-Mongoose

Movement

So I have to say, I have not once since moving to Korea been so completely pissed off to not be in America. Yup, that's right. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like it over here. I'm having a blast, eating great food, drinking with Koreans, fishing in the ocean and what not. And it's not because I've suddenly gotten unbearably homesick. I mean of course I miss everyone, but that increasingly gets easier the longer I'm here. No, I'm pissed off because for the past 5 years I've been so hungry, so ready, for the kind of hippy fueled, politically charged, youth based activism that is happening in the states as we speak. I wanted so bad for something to happen, for someone to start protesting, and I was gonna be there as soon as it did. But nothing significant ever seemed to jell, and so I gave up. And then I moved to Korea. And then, less than two months after I leave, the damn hippies decide that maybe it's time to start speaking out. Mother fuckers.

In all seriousness though, I really do think it is spectacular what is happening. If I were in the states right now, I would be in Zuccoti park with all those passionate crazies, banging a drum and shouting at the top of my lungs. You know I would. And it's not just exciting because people are finally willing to shout, it's because other people are finally starting to notice.

I've had a couple different friends point out to me that this isn't the first time by any means that there's been protesting. One mentioned the labor protests that occurred relatively recently in Wisconsin, and the other mentioned the very large anti war protest in D.C. back during the bush administration. And that's true. There were those. And the Wisconsin protests came very close to actually preventing the anti-labor legislation from going through. But both of those were still different then this, they had a different vibe than this. The Wisconsin protests were really about a localized issue, and while a lot of people had sympathy for the cause, it's hard to really rally a ton of excitement around a state issue that most people feel no direct connection to. And while the D.C. anti war protest that my other friend mentioned was certainly enormous, and most definitely revolved around an issue that people across the country could connect to, it didn't last. It never grew into a sustained movement. There was this giant outcry against the war in Iraq, and then....everyone just sort of went home. And so nothing ever really came out of it. Additionally, that was before the economy jumped off a cliff, and so really, while people were mad about that one issue, they weren't mad at everything, and desperate, and at a loss for what to do with themselves. The climate is different now, and conditions are prime for a real movement to take root.

And that's what I think is happening. Because you have this group of people, of a wide range of ages and backgrounds, that are just plain mad. And they're mad about a lot of things, about unemployment and bailouts. About healthcare, about religious fundamentalism, about Bush. About Obama too. Most definitely about congress. They're mad about greed and growing wage inequality, and about beurocracy. They're mad about the fact that the whole damn country seems to be going to shit, and and they're really mad about the fact that no one seems to have any fucking clue what to do about it.

So there isn't a specific issue or a specific person, or even a very concrete concept for them to rally around. They're just really mad about a whole lot of different things, and they want to let everyone know about it. So they made some signs and they're camping in the park outside of wall street. And some come and go, but a hardcore group of them have been there every single day for almost a month now. And the media started to notice, and to report on it, and people all over the country started to hear about it. And a lot of them said "Ya know what? I'm mad too! I'm mad about a whole lot of things!" So they made their own signs, and organized their own groups, and they don't have a specific cause, either, but they want people to know that, damn it, they're really mad.

So now it's sweeping across the country. Now progressives all over are coming together to express how mad they are. It's just like the tea party, only liberal, and more genuinely an actual grass roots movement, because it's happening without the financial support of the Koch brothers, or the publicizing of Glenn Beck. And I think that it's really exciting. I think it's a kind of unifying energy we haven't seen from progressives in a very long time, perhaps for the first time in my life.

Some have argued that we had that same energy when we elected Obama, but I disagree in a large way. Because back then we needed a singular person to rally around, because we didn't have enough energy to just start rallying. So we fed on his personality, and poured all of our hopes and dreams into him. And perhaps with us having that mentality, he was destined to be a disappointment. In a sense we were so excited about Obama, because it meant that we could continue being a lazy progressive populace. "We'll just elect this one guy," the subconscious logic went, "and then he can fix everything and we won't have to do the work of actually being activists." I'm not trying to play a blame game here. In retrospect I know I was certainly guilty of that kind of thinking to some degree. And maybe that is our lesson as a progressive movement, that real change is something that must be continuously fought for and strived for, something that is never really secured. Because, yea, we worked real hard to put Obama in office, but then what? We went home and assumed that the job was done. We didn't actively fight, and remind him what we wanted. We didn't force him to push back against the republicans. Yes, he compromised far too much, but didn't we compromise too and allow that when there wasn't a major outcry against it? Now is that outcry. And now is the time to cry out.

Listen, I don't judge for an instant anyone who isn't completely into this. Some of you are tired. Some of you are apathetic. Some of you are so cynical of the system as a whole that you really don't think anything can make a difference. And you might be right. Some of you have already put so much anergy and effort into failed movements of the past, or colossal letdowns, that you can't imagine doing it again. And some of you are so affected by circumstances, forced to work such obscene hours, that involvement in anything is simply not possible. And that's totally fine, in every single case. I do want to say, however, that the opportunity to get involved in this movement is one that I am extremely envious of right now.

The title of this post is simply "Movement" and is meant to have a double meaning. Of course I am referring directly to the "Occupy Wall Street" movement. But also expressed is something more philosophical. Movement refers to the changing nature of society, and the shifting that occurs between and among cultural subsets that results in the overall outlook and direction of society. For most of my life, that particular societal movement has been relatively consistent. There has been a very gradual liberalization of the culture over the past 20 years, but that gradual shift is punctuated by bursts of conservative idealism that occurs because conservatives are willing to make a whole lot of noise about how they think things should be. For the most part, I've never seen progressives willing to make that same amount of noise. I hope this movement is a sign of movement in that direction.

Please, I warmly welcome debate and disagreement. And for those of you who are more politically and/or socially minded, and who have friends who are as well, please do not hesitate to share this post with them. I'm realizing more than ever that this type of writing is what I would really like to do in the future, so it would be very nice to have this type of post read.

-Mongoose

A psychological observation

It's amazing how much the brain does on it's own, without you having to manually do the processing. This has become clear to me as I become more adjusted to being here, and as the phenomenon referred to as "culture shock" begins to fade.

When I first arrived here, I noticed everything. Everything was new to me, and so everything was noticed and had to be manually processed. Now, a month and a half in, I find myself in a state of mind more akin to the way I lived my daily life back home. I go about doing things, and for the most part the background happenings of my surroundings stay as background. I don't have to notice ever sound, ever color, ever sensation. I'm more or less used to them now, and so my brain processes them without my active participation.

I suppose this is, in essence, exactly what culture shock is. Your brain, in totally unfamiliar surroundings, doesn't know where to place all of the various stimuli of the moment. And so, by a quirk of psychology, you are forced to analyze and physically direct the neurological path of every single stimulus. This requires an unimaginably large amount of mental energy, and can be rather exhausting. But, as you do this, your brain learns the path that these various stimuli must take, and begins to do the work on it's own. Over time, things happen without you having to notice them.

I don't think we realize on a day to day basis exactly how much is happening around us. The color of the tiles, the sound of the subway, the people having ma conversation near us, the. Aesthetics of the neighborhood. But when you are completely new to a place you notice every single thing. This is simultaneously wonderful and overwhelming. When you are familiar to a place, you have more time to spend thinking about whatever you want. Your brain isn't forced into contemplating the simple aspect of where you are right now. But when you do notice every single thing, you have an appreciation for your environment that normally is taken for granted.

I'm certainly more comfortable now that the initial culture shock is over, but there was something fun about it too. I'm more in my head, and less in the moment. Of course, I like being in my head, but there was something fun about being completely immersed, completely aware of every single detail of my surroundings.

This is a shorter post, mostly created because I don't want anyone to think I've forgotten about posting. I've been working on a specific post for a little over a week now, but it is taking longer than expected. It requires a lot of research, and I haven't quite finished the investigation that is necessary for it. I will be out of town this weekend, so no Sunday blog post again. Look for the next post sometime next week.

-Mongoose

Bulamsan

I have often heard people say that bravery isn't about not being afraid, that bravery is being afraid of something and doing it anyway. I would like to propose a slightly modified definition. Bravery is doing something that any rational person would be afraid to do.

There are two paths towards bravery then. There is of course being rational, being afraid, and yet still doing. The other option, of course, is to be irrational and stupid, and thus not afraid. The latter, I think, is the kind of bravery that many people desire. Because being afraid doesn't feel good. Being truly scared for ones safety is a terribly uncomfortable feeling, and when we are unfortunate enough to have that feeling, we find ourselves wishing we could feel differently. And so there's a sense of envy for the irrational people who just don't seem to be emotionally affected by being in danger. Of course, having irrational bravery shouldn't be a particular source of pride, because your not overcoming anything, you are not actually conquering fear. Irrational bravery is also more likely to get you killed.

These are the thoughts that were going through my head as I sat atop the peak of Bulamsam Mountain yesterday afternoon, eating a peach flavored popsicle, happier to be alive than I ever have been previously.

For those of you not familiar with meetup.com, it is a website where you can find groups doing interesting things in your area. Yoga, hiking, dancing, whatever you interests are. It's a great resource for getting out and doing shit. Its especially useful if you're new to a foreign city where you know absolutely no one. I joined a hiking group that goes hiking every Saturday in or around Seoul. I like hiking, I like nature, I like physical activity, so it seemed a natural choice. They do a range of hikes, from easy nature walks, to all out rock climbing with ropes and harnesses. The description for this hike was that it was moderately difficult, and would include some bouldering. Bouldering is typically where you are in fact climbing strait up rock faces, but for very short distances, and so no equipment is necessary. I like bouldering. I went bouldering with Britney and Turtle back in Ohio several times.

The meeting location for the hike was a subway station about an hour away. I get there and find everybody and introduce myself, because this is the first hike I've done with them. Everyone is friendly and interesting. It is a mix of expats and Koreans. There are several older Korean men that seem to more or less be the group leaders. It was also the first time I've met any expats who were neither English teachers nor soldiers. There were several English teachers, but there was one university level German teacher, from Germany, and one Indian software developer.

And so we set off for the mountain. The park is about a 15 minute walk from the subway station. It is a beautiful park, and I am happy to be surrounded by nature for the first time since I've been here. We start hiking and we are walking along paths, well marked at first, and then slowly less walked. As we turn off the main paths, we are walking more through the woods. It gets steeper, and slightly more difficult. I'm building up a good sweat and enjoying myself immensely. I like hikes that involve a lot of climbing over small and medium sized rocks, and that's what is mostly happening so far.

We come out of the trees, and reach a massive sloped rock face. It is the side of the mountain. It is enormous, and impressive. Nothing growing on it, just smooth rock sloping up for hundreds of feet. This mountain was formed by a massive lava flow some several thousands of years ago. Large sections of it are just smooth, sloping, enormous, dome shaped slags. I stop to admire it as the group walks by, and then I go to join them.

Just around the corner everyone is sitting down and taking out their water bottles. Break time. I sit, and hydrate, and revel in how much I am enjoying my morning. We sit for about 15 minutes and then everyone stands up. I'm excited to get going, and I'm wondering where the path leads next.

And then something funny happens. One of the old Korean man walks back the way we came. We start fallowing him. He walks back to where the giant sloping rock face is, turns, and starts walking up it.

Allow me to take a moment to describe in more detail exactly what is happening with this rock face. When I say sloping rock face, I don't mean that it's like a steep ramp, a steady walk up a hill. The side of this mountain is nearing a 60 degree angle. Think about that. A 45 degree angle, which would be considered fairly steep, is pretty easy to imagine. A 60 degree angle is half way between that, and a vertical wall. Mathematically it is a slope of 3 vertical units for every one horizontal unit. It's really fucking steep. I'm guessing that this wasn't quite 60, maybe more around 55, but still. Steep. And as I said before, entirely smooth. Theres nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold onto, just flat rock surface for hundreds of feet. And so when the first guy just started walking up it, I had a definite moment of, wait, what? THAT'S where were going?!?

And it was. And let me tell you, it was terrifying. 100 feet is about a third of a football field. Which doesn't seem like that far when your talking about walking 100 feet, or something being 100 feet away. 100 feet suddenly takes on a whole new meaning when it's 100 feet up, when, say, you walk 100 feet up a 60 fucking degree angle, and you turn around and look 100 feet down. Suddenly, 100 feet is a very very long distance. Because again, there was nothing to hold onto. The only thing keeping you on the wall of this mountain is the friction on your shoes. And if that gives, if you slip, if you start sliding, that can get out of control real fast, and there's nothing to slow you down except the eventual flat ground.

And the image I had in my head of me tumbling wildly down the side of this mountain was all too vivid after 100 feet. And I looked up ahead to where the leader had stopped, and I wasn't even half way there. However, soon he started playing a small ocarina-type instrument. I imagine he was playing some sort of Korean folk music. It had that sort of sound to it. He played it very well, and it was beautiful. The sweet melody hung around the mountain like a gentle fog, chasing away my fears and giving me the strength to continue. And, miraculously, I made it to the safety of the flat location, where we rested again, and drank more water. I looked back over what I had done, how far I had come. The view was spectacular. I could see so much of the city. And I was proud of myself for having accomplished it. I was ready for the rest of the hike, now certain that the most difficult part must be over.

But that was just the beginning. I didn't know it at the time, but we were probably only about 15 percent up the mountain. The rest of the hike would be mostly the same as that. Walking up impossibly steep angles for hundreds of feet at a time with nothing to hold onto. Well, that's not entirely true. Occasionally for the more difficult spots, one of the leaders would drop a rope, run up to a fairly stable spot, and then brace themselves. You weren't supposed to use the rope to pull yourself up, as it was just a person holding onto the other end. But it was there as a safety net in case you started to slip, and was psychologically very helpful. On two separate occasions, for the steepest and most difficult slopes (I'm talking maybe 75 degrees) one of the leaders found a place in the rock to actually anchor the rope with rock climbing equipment, and you did use the rope to support the majority of your weight as you pulled yourself up.

On one occasion we walked up a giant slope, around a giant rock at the top, and then down the other side, in order to walk around another cliff, and then back up another insane slope. Walking down one of those slopes was one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring moments of the day. Again, still terrifying. The way to do it is to actually walk facing forwards, body strait, but bent pretty significantly at the knees, and to just slowly put one foot in front of the other. And here your are, walking on the side of a mountain, with absolutely nothing around you, except the entire city right in front of you. It's such an incredible feeling. You feel so large. The city is so small. There's nothing but air around you. Trees far below. Not attached to anything. It's incredible. But still terrifying.

Walking up these slopes is massively counter intuitive. Instinct when climbing is to keep your body low to the ground, lowering your center of gravity, and giving you more control. For walking up a steep slope however, you actually want to stand up as much as possible. The reason is that, again, the only thing keeping you on the side of the rock is the friction of your shoes. The higher you stand, the more directly over your shoes, the more friction. To lower yourself, to try and climb up the slope using your hands and knees, actually reduces the amount of friction on your shoes, makes it more likely to slip. So you want to stand up. But this is completely counterintuitive and feels really scary to do.

Every time the leader would stop for an extended period of time, he would play his flute. Every melody, every sound, was beautiful. And the atmosphere it created was no less than majestic. It was almost otherworldly. To be in such an intense situation, to be so scared, literally scared for you life, and then to hear this calming peaceful melody, out in the middle of no where, away from civilization on the side of a mountain, is just indescribable. It was heavenly. It was angelic. It was miraculous. Please understand, I use these words with very intense meaning not lightly. There is no word too dramatic to describe the feelings that sound elicited.

Also, I have to add, the Korean men on this trip really amazed and astounded me. All the expats are terrified, and struggling, and in awe of what we are actually doing on this hike. Meanwhile, the Koreans are just casually walking around the side of this mountain like ants on a wall, as if they are simply going for their morning stroll. Koreans are hard-core man.

Finally, after a particularly difficult stretch that involved the need for anchored rope in spots, that several people got stuck on for a while, and that seemed to push the limits of what everyone (expats at least) was capable of, we came to a nice shady flat spot, and stopped for lunch. I had some pastry and some beef jerky in my back pack. Other people had fruit, vegetables, various Korean things, and everybody shared. We were almost at the top, there was only one more slope to go. One expat joked, "Where we sit and wait for the helicopter to get us, right?" I replied that I though we were taking the elevator back down. Someone else laughed at how amazing it would be if there was an ice cream stand at the top. I said that if there was an ice cream stand at the top, I would shit myself.

After lunch we got up, and hiked a short distance to the final slope. My feet and my calves are killing me. I don't have much strength left that I can force out of the lower half of my body. And when we arrive at the last slope, my jaw drops. It's not as long as many of the others, but it's long enough so that you still don't want to slip and tumble down it. But it's the steepest we've done so far without an anchored rope, and the Koreans don't seem to intend to lay one. They start up it, and what choice do I have? This is one of those trips from which, after a very early point, there was simply no turning back. The only way was forward, and here again I was struck by this harsh reality. I didn't want to do it. I was scared, and tired, and sore. And every ounce of me was against climbing this insanely steep slope. But what choice did I have?

It was completely smooth, probably about 65 degree, maybe even 70 degrees for a few short stretches. I make it about 85 percent of the way up, and then I get stuck. I can't go any farther, I simply freeze. It's too steep, my shoes don't have enough grip, and I don't feasibly see a way I can go. The Koreans encourage me. I take a step, and other step, and then I start to slip. Suddenly my shoes lose their grip and I start sliding backwards. I freak out. I scream. My mind is racing with images of chaotic tumbling down the side of a mountain. I start to panic. Real panic. My heart starts beating so fast that it hurts. I start breathing quickly. I'm completely not calm. I feel dizzy. I try desperately to dig my feet in, to find stable footing, but I'm still sliding backwards. In my panic I forget about the mechanics of slope climbing, and I lower my center of gravity, which reduces friction, and I start sliding even more.

This all happened in the time span of about 5 seconds. Luckily, the Koreans had their shit together. One of the more experienced climbers wasn't far behind me. She climbed up behind me, and braced the back of my shoe with her hand, stopping my descent. I breathed deep. A slowed my heart. I regained my footing. I took another step, and immediately felt her hand behind my shoe again. Another step, and again her hand was there. And in this manner I slowly walked up the last 20 feet to the summit of the mountain.

Well, more or less. There was a short walk through the woods, and one very short section of traditional bouldering, which I loved. In terms of climbing, I'm definitely most comfortable when I have hand holds. I feel that's probably a fairly natural thing.

We get to the summit, and I see a helipad. This makes me laugh. And then, about 20 feet away from that, a man selling ice-cream. I did not, in fact, shit myself. I did, however, buy ice-cream. You may wonder how he got it up there. He took the stairs. There was an easy trail on the other side. We just took the terrifying death defying way for shits a giggles I suppose.

So I sat at the top of this mountain, eating my popsicle, and I did a good deal of thinking. I thought about the nature of bravery. I knew I had been brave, in the rational I'm still scared sort of way. But that kind of bravery isn't emotionally satisfying, it is emotionally taxing. It's an incredibly difficult thing to fight true, honest to god terror. And it feels good to succeed. Bt it doesn't feel so good to be that scared and to have fight against instinct.

I thought about being alive, and about the fact that I had truly just survived something. That felt very good. And it also felt good to think of in terms of accomplishment. To think, "I climbed a fucking mountain today, a real mountain, and I fucking climbed it!"

And it occurred to me several times during the climb that the hike was somewhat analogous to my journey here in Korea. Getting here was just the start of the adventure. It is both difficult and scary. I will do do things I never thought I would do, and accomplish things I never thought I could accomplish. But it will also be unimaginably rewarding. There will be moments of strife and of pain, but there will be moments of rest and of peace. And just when I think I can't go any further, there will be an old Korean man playing the flute.

Well, ok, maybe not that last part. But certainly the hike was analogous, not just to my journey in Korea, but to any difficult undertaking in life. Even, perhaps, to life itself. And let me say, that some of the most spectacular views I've ever had in my entire life were during this trip. And was most cleanly worth it.

We took the stairs back down. It was a nice pleasant trail. Very simple. Very calm. Very relaxing. A nice pleasant walk through the woods. Afterwards we went to a little Korean restaurant and had lunch. And then I went home.

It was a wonderful morning/afternoon, and I made some new friends. I have a profound and intense affection especially for the Koreans who were so wonderful, patient, and helpful. I'm looking very much forward to hiking with them again in the future. Though I can't say I want to do that particular hike again. For the record, I do have pictures to share. I will post them soon. I have to figure out how to get them from my lap tap (has no Internet) to my iPad (has Internet). And then I have to figure out the best way to share them. I'm not sure how pictures work on this site. I may end up just making an album on Facebook. In any case, I will let you guys know.

Until next time.
-Mongoose

Evening Thoughts

This city makes strange noises. I've noticed several times, especially in the back alleys, that it always sounds like there's a huge crowd just around the corner. There never is. Your turn the corner, and there's just a bunch of people walking around, and then it sounds like the big crowd is just around the next corner. I've been wondering why this is, and I've finally developed a theory.

I think it works something like a seashell. And keep in mind that I don't really know why a seashell makes the noise it does when you hold it up to your ear, but I'm pretty sure it has to do with its shape and the way it funnels vibrations. My best guess is that this city is so vast, and so busy, that the noises of the people from all around just echo off of the buildings and travel down the alleyways, creating the sense that there's a large group of people shouting just a few hundred feet away.

Sometimes I feel like coming here was a mistake. And sometimes I've never been happier. Sometimes the concept of spending a whole year here seems unbearable. And sometimes it's not enough time. This is the most bipolar experience I've ever had in my life. As I'm starting to make more and more friends, and as work is getting easier, the difficulty is revealing itself to be a lack of anything meaningful to do with my free time.

The first difficulty was the stress of work, and how quickly I was expected to just do it. As that started to ease, the next difficulty was loneliness, and not knowing anyone, not having anyone to eat or drink with. And now that problem too has faded. But when I come home from work, and I have my evening, I'm not sure how to fill it.

I've been watching a lot of movies. That's a distraction, but it's not been fulfilling. I've been working on a chain mail project for a very special person, but aside from that I'm surprised to find the prospect of chain mail less appealing and less fulfilling then it was back home. I'm not sure exactly why that is yet. I have my flute, and my oil pastels, and I've been drawing and playing, which is fulfilling temporarily, but doesn't leave me with a satisfied feeling of accomplishment when I'm done. Again, I'm not sure why.

I think it has something to do with what I actually want to do with my life. Drawing and making music are nice hobbies, but they aren't what I want to do with my life. Perhaps it is the same with making chain mail. Of all the arts I've ever studied, chain mail is the one I have the most mastery of. But perhaps, deep down, I don't want to spend my life making chain mail. As much as i love it, and as good as I am, I don't think it is my life long calling.

When I have freed time, I think a lot about the future, what I want to do, and what I need to do now to get there. But the enduring problem is that I do not know what I want to do, and thus I have no idea what must be done to get there. I like teaching, but I do not want to spend my life teaching English to foreigners. The two most fulfilling activities, I find, are socializing, and writing.

Why socializing? Is it because we are just such social creatures, that this is an instinct as intrinsic as food and sex? Or is it something more personal to me, that I am as an individual more prone towards social interaction. I think the answer is yes. I do think we are social by nature, but not intrinsically so. The existence of introverts supports this idea. I had a very good conversation with a self proclaimed introvert over the summer who explained to me that introversion has nothing to do with shyness. "Introversion is the seeking of satisfaction within, while extroversion is the seeking of satisfaction without", she said. This makes sense. And now, put in a situation where my ability to interact with others is greatly limited, I have to admit that introversion seems like the wiser philosophy. And while I can certainly be shy at times, alas, I am an extrovert.

And why writing? Well, certainly in part, because it allows me to stay in contact with all of you. So it fulfills, in part, that extroverted tendency. But it goes beyond that, because even on the occasions that I have written privately, it has left me with the same feeling of satisfaction that writing to you, posting on my blog, gives me.

I've noticed that I think best while I write. My thoughts are chaotic and jumbled and hard to follow. But when I put them down in writing, it helps me to organize and understand them. I have my greatest realizations and understandings only while I am writing. Does it seem like I have these diatribes planned out? I certainly do not. They flow from my mind and my fingertips as they are happening, surprising me just as much, if not more so, then they do you. Maybe that is the source of my love of English, which I have come to embrace even more so since becoming a teacher of the subject. Were it not for the written word, I'm not sure I would know how to think properly.

So playing flute, and drawing, and even making chain mail, are not how I want to spend my life. They entertain me, but they do not fulfill my need for progress. And yet writing and socializing do. Writing, and people. My two greatest passions I suppose. It seems, at this moment in time at least, that my destiny must be to write about people. And so I shall, as much as possible.

In general, I plan and intend to post un update to my blog every Sunday. If you have a desire to be a regular reader, Sunday is probably a good time to check it. This mid week post is simply a matter of the fact that I had too much on my mind not to express. And, of course, because I needed to write. Besides, I missed a posting on at least one Sunday, so I owed you guys one.

Oh, and please, feel free to comment on my actual blog. I've received a number of comments on Facebook, and it's become apparent that a number of people actually read this thing, but posting comments on the blog itself is still much appreciated. It's kind of like proof, ya know? And I promise I'll respond.


Until next time
-Mongoose

History and Culture

The Korean War ended on July 27, 1953, officially establishing two separate governments on the Korean peninsula, those of the North and of the South. I think the majority of Americans are at least somewhat familiar with the Korean war, though it does seem to receive somewhat less focus and discussion than many of the other wars we have been involved in. Still, you will be hard pressed to find someone that doesn't know about North and South Korea, and the basic story of how that happened.

But from the end of the Korean War, and thus the end of American involvement, I think you will find that very few Americans know just about anything regarding the history and development of The Republic of South Korea.

I imagine that the common view in the west would go something like this: "South Korea established an independent democratic government at the end of the Korean War. Obviously, it must have been an effective government, because today South Korea is the worlds 15th largest economy, and a thriving developed nation with civil rights and social liberties." It is more or less the assumption I made prior to researching it, and the view essentially draws a strait line between the two bits of information most of us have, namely South Korea right after the war and South Korea today.

But the line from then to now was far from strait. First off, the Republic that controls South Korea today is not the same one that was established after the war. It is an entirely separate constitution and set of laws from that government. In fact, the current Republic of South Korea is the 6th Republic to control the country, the 6th constitution established in the past 60 years. Think about that for just one second. Since the end of the Korean War, a given established government in South Korea has lasted, on average, about ten years.

So, It is the summer of 1953, South Korea and North Korea have signed an armistice, and agreed to split the peninsula in half. In South Korea, the fight was led primarily by a man named Syngmann Rhee, and he was the one to officially establish and declare The Republic of South Korea. Elections were held, and he was elected as the first president of South Korea. However, although his reign started out as democratic, it quickly turned autocratic. He spent the majority of the 1950's attempting to establish his authority, increase his power, and hang on to his position. He forced through a change in the constitution eliminating a two term limit on the presidency. He rigged elections. Towards the end of his presidency he was executing political opponents, and quelling uprisings by massacring his own people. Of course, we all know what this type of governing inevitably leads to, and eventually massive protests and demonstrations forced him to step down. He resigned in 1960 and lived out his remaining years in exile.

At the end of the Korean war, South Korea was essentially a third world country. Over the course of his seven years in power, he did nothing to change this. In 1960, Nominal GDP per capita (basically GDP divided by population) was around $70.

The second republic established a more heavily parliamentary government, in which the prime minister is more important than the president. There's really very little to say about the Second Republic, because it lasted a very short amount of time. It made no attempt at political suppression whatsoever, which is a good thing. Suddenly people had the right to demonstrate and express their voice, and hold protests. And they did. A lot. You see, the second republic failed in just about every way to handle the poor living conditions, manage the social unrest, or make peoples lives better in any significant way. And this was at a time when things were really very bad, and so people weren't willing to wait all that long. A military coup overthrew the Second Republic less than a year later, in 1961.

The military over throw of the Second Republic was led by General Park Chung-hee. This becomes an extremely important man in recent Korean History. He initiated the coup out of concern that the rapidly destabilizing government would soon collapse with disastrous consequences. Upon the success of the coup, he declared martial law, with the promise that a democratic government would be established within two years. He kept this promise, and a new constitution was drafted and established, and the Third Republic began with elections in 1963.

General Park himself won the elections, albeit by a narrow margin. In 1963 the Nominal GDP per capita was around $110. Park promised that within a decade, every Korean citizen would have a refrigerator and a car, luxuries that most people at the time wouldn't have dared to dream of. But Park set to work with a series of economic developments that positioned Korea as an international exporter. He positioned the country as a center for oil refining, and as a producer of metals to be used in manufacturing. Under Park, the country grew into one of the largest international producers and seller of ships.

That story specifically is actually rather amusing. The Koreans didn't know how to build ships. No one had ever done it before. There was no one with experience, no one with the equipment, and they didn't even have a proper dock or ship yard. Park basically bought all the parts along with what essentially amounted to a construction manual from another country, and set a team to work figuring out how to build industrial grade ships from scratch. He then set a second team to work building a dock for the boat at the same time. They build the boat in two pieces, and then went to assemble it, but the pieces didn't fit together. So they had to go back to work hammering and adjusting and what not. Finally, they got everything done, and put it in the water to see if it would float. And it did! Five years later, South Korea was one of the largest international exporters of industrial ships, and considered an expert on the matter.

And that is what Park did for the country. He had vision, and direction, and drive. But he also worked the people incredibly hard. The crews mentioned in the ship building story were working 20 hours a day for months on end. And that wasn't a rare occurrence under Park. Working conditions were terrible everywhere. And while wealth was finally beginning to flow into the country, park forcibly kept wages relatively low in order to maintain South Koreas viability as a major exporter. Cheap labor means cheap goods, which means high demand.

Politically, he too slowly degraded into an autocrat. He was reelected into his second term in 1967. Like Rhee, he then forced a measure through parliament that would allow him to seek a third term. This angered many people, and there were demonstrations. Still, somehow he managed to win a third election n 1971. Social unrest was growing again, and parliament was discussing ways of removing him from office. In 1972 he responded by declaring a state of national emergency, and with the reinstitution of martial law.

After establishing martial law, Park rewrites the constitution, essentially establishing himself as president for life, and giving him control over parliament. This new constitution also marks the beginning of the Fourth Republic, which was really a republic in name only. For the next 7 years he continues to grow the economy while keeping wages low and working conditions poor. He reacts to political opposition with an iron fist. Social unrest continues to increase until his eventual assassination by the head of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency in 1979.

Park started off with good intentions, I am sure. And in truth, he did a lot of good things for the country. By the end of his 18 year reign across two separate constitutions and two instances of martial law, the Nominal GDP per capita had increased from just over $100 to $1795.

After the assassination, everything was chaos for a little while. The prime minister because president, but there was another military coup six days later. There were demonstrations and protests, a couple of massacres, some rearranging of people in office, and the constitution was rewritten yet again, thus establishing the beginning of the 5th republic.

A man named Chun is the president now, and has once again seized his position with military force. The Koreans are sort of tired of this, and don't trust him. He promises to only serve a single 7 year term, and starts to do many good things for the country. He improves working conditions, and ceases to force down wages. He builds museums and parks. The Korean economy flourishes. Still, because he seized power by military force, at the end of his term, the Koreans demand change. They want direct elections again, and there are protests and demonstrations. He adheres to the demands of the people, rewrites the constitution to allow for direct elections once again, and steps down from office in 1989. This marks the end of the 5th republic. In 1989 the Nominal GDP per capita had risen to $5551.

Finally in the 90's we see the beginning of the Korea we know today. For the first time in 40 years the government is run by a civilian, rather then military, leader. I think there have been 5 separate presidents over the past 20 years, though I won't go into detail on them. The important thing is that in the 6th Republic, South Korea has finally achieved a secure, democratic, developed society. Economic growth took off like crazy in the 90,s. By 2007 Nominal GDP per capita had hit the $20,000 milestone that some economist somewhere said was significant for some reason. Yay Korea!

So why have I dedicated a rather long blogpost to this topic? Why is it important to me? Because it helps me understand the culture of the society I am currently living in. That's a very intense and chaotic recent history. That's a lot of political strife to go through. And a large part of the population that lives here remembers it! The grandparents of the children I teach are the ones that worked the brutal hours under the oppressive regime of Park. The parents of the people my age are the ones who protested and demonstrated under different regimes, enduring brutal denial of civil rights and occasionally large massacres of civilians. All of this happened here not all that long ago. The people my age are the first generation in Korea to not remember any of that. Yet still, in their life time the Nominal GDP per capita has quadrupled, bringing wealth in their adult lives that they hardly could have imagined as children.

And the result, culturally, is that Korea currently exists in a state not dissimilar to the American 1950's. Having achieved an end to decades of struggle and hardship, and having obtained wealth and prosperity, maintaining the status quo is incredibly important here. They don't want social strife, and they don't desire cultural change. The result is an incredibly high emphasis placed on social norms, and the proper way to act. There is a lot of peer pressure towards being normal, and fitting in. The culture is somewhat materialistic, and much status is placed in brand-name clothing and electronics. Much more than in the states, if you can believe that.

But all the positive aspects of the 1950's also exists in Korean culture. There's a friendliness and a willingness to help each other. They have all the sweet but cheesy family values that we long ago stopped truly living by in the states. It's also an honorable society, with a relatively low crime rate. I was here for two weeks before I saw a single police car. And I still haven't seen a second one. Imagine spending a month in New York City and only seeing a single cop. It'd be weird, huh?

There's a place near one of the subway stations where I can barrow a bike for the day. I just show the guy my I.D. and he gives me a bike. I don't have to pay, or give him any information, or even leave my I.D. with him. I just get a free bike for the day with no questions asked. I'm supposed to bring it back by 6:00 PM. I asked my coworker what happens if I don't bring it back in time. She said, "Wow, um, I imagine he would probably call the police assuming something had happened to you." That's right, he would call the police not because he'd think that I stole the bike. No, his assumption would be that I'm in mortal peril. That's Korea for you.

But, I wonder what will happen as this younger generation, the one that I am teaching, grows up. They are the first generation to be born into wealth, and to have the freedom to obtain knowledge that the Internet provides. I imagine they will be more individualistic and culturally independent than the generations before them. And with every successive generation, the culture will become more removed from the pain and fear that living under an oppressive regime creates. So, Korea may be a bit in the 1950's right now, but I imagine that their 1960's are on the horizon.

The interesting thing is though, that while the Korean culture is a bit socially limiting, it really works and functions much better than our 1950's did. Well, to be fair they don't have Jim Crow laws and oppressive gender expectations to deal with. So, perhaps their 60's will be less full of strife, and more like an awakening to individuality. Or perhaps I'm wrong and the status quo will be maintained for quite a long time.

In any case, it's a fascinating culture, and I'm very much honored to have the opportunity to observe it. Until next time.

-Mongoose