Fukuoka!

The ferry from Busan to Fukuoka is amazing. It's called "the Beetle." I don't know why. It's not like a "ferry" in the sense that I would think of ferries, because I guess in my head I have picture an enormous ship carting people around -- it's actually pretty small. I'd say there were maybe 100 to 150 passangers; some on top, some on the bottom. We got on top because we wanted a window seat. But anyway. It's on stilts. I assume the stilts are connected to the white boat-like things that are on planes that land on the water. My internet is bad right now so I can't go look up the fancy word for that. Shame. The Beetle is really fast: it goes 213km in just under 3 hours. When we looked outside we saw the water just flying by. There was a warning at the beginning of the ride that going outside while the ship is moving is prohibited, because the high winds could knock you off the boat, and another warning told us that sometimes the boat has to maneuver to avoid whales and other marine life, so to please keep our seatbelts on. It didn't really matter though -- we were knocked out from partying the night before with our Gwangju friends. We didn't move. Pictures of the Beetle are attached.

When we arrived in Fukuoka and checked into our hotel, we walked around outside and ate some amazing grilled macarel and a raw seafood salad, then later some shrimp tempura over udong. Looks like we won't be keeping things as paleo as we'd hoped on this trip, but we are walking all over the city so I imagine we won't get too fat.

This morning I pulled Seth out of bed to make sure we'd get to do the things we wanted to do. First we were off to Ohori Park, which included the ruins of Fukuoka Castle, from the 18th and 19th centuries. Attached I have a picture of Seth in some ruins. Then we rode around the pond in Ohori Park on a swan boat!! The park was beautiful. There were turtles everywhere and enormous coyfish that had to be on steroids. There were giant lillypads with the last head-sized lillies of summer. We walked out onto an island where a woman in a hanbok (Korean traditional dress) was doing a story for a Korean news network. I'm pretty sure she was saying something along the lines of "don't come here! It's not interesting at all. Everything you could ever need is in Korea. Japanese people are weird." I'm not sure though. We were pretty far away. That's all I've heard Koreans say about Japan though so I can only assume.

Afterward we went and checked out Japan's largest wooden Buddah at Tochoji temple. We weren't allowed to take pictures but I would have if there hadn't been a scrutinizing Japanese lady in a window observing us. It was really big and intricate. Instead we took pictures of the worshipping part of the temple, which reminded us of a time in Busan where we actually crashed a temple ceremony by accident. Here's a tip: if you hear noise coming out of a Buddhist temple, don't go in unless you're sure you know what's going on and you're ready for it. Otherwise you will be invited to chill on the floor and chant with everyone for an indefinite amount of time, unless you want to seem really rude for leaving in the middle of the event. Afterward we headed to Canal City, which came recommended by a friend, making sure to stop by a cool indoor market for some $1 avocados and some tempura over udong noodles again (this one came with a raw egg and some seaweed! Om nom nom). Turns out  Canal City is one of the biggest shopping complexes in the world, the cost of which coming in at a whopping 1.4 billion dollars. Having no desire to increase the weight of our backpacks, we walked in the opposite direction of the hotel for about 20 minutes before realizing we were going the wrong way and then walking back to the hotel, which probably took about an hour. That one was my bad. It's a good thing we weren't carrying our backpacks all day or Seth's fake anger may have been slightly more genuine.

For dinner we almost went to a jazz bar, but Seth was told he needed something more than a tanktop, so back at the hotel to get a sweatshirt we opted for a sushi joint. We found an underground conveyor belt sushi bar a short walk from there. At these conveyor belt sushi bars, which are amazing in themselves and so much better than the ones in Korea, you can also order special from the chef. There were two sushi makers in front of us and one spoke really good English. He also had impeccable taste and kept recommending different dishes for us. I think he was a foodie too (but what good chef isn't) because he kept looking at our faces whenever we tried something. One dish in particular he recommended was raw red tuna, avocado, and crab, wrapped with seaweed and rice and then topped with caramalized onion. I now understand the appeal of raw fish. Thank  you, Japan. No thanks to you and your hue (pronounced "hway"), Korea.

Hiroshima tomorrow! I have already repacked my bag. Hopefully I won't have to do it again until Kathmandu, but that is highly unlikely. Enjoy my assortment of pictures. I couldn't put them in here where I wanted to because tab. Oh well :)

And they're off!

Our goal was to wait out the rainy season before we started on our trip. And if the weather is going to be anything like it is this morning, the day we leave Gwangju, we did a great job. It was a particularly long rainy season in Korea this year, with the puny drizzle and depressingly gray clouds continuing all the way up until yesterday. I was sure it would be done several weeks ago, and man was I wrong. But today, on the first day of September, it's like Korea decided "OK! Enough with this vitamin D deficit. It's time for fall." We walked out of the apartment at 7:30 to completely clear skies and a big happy sun, just like the one I drew on the white board all the time at the Kindergarten.

We were told not to inform our students we were leaving until the day our replacements arrived. I hated to keep the secret from them; it felt like every time I made them laugh or talked about upcoming events, I was lying. But if the students told their parents, their parents might call the boss and complain, and the boss would get inconvenienced and cranky. So wait until Thursday we did. I saw our head teacher showing our replacement teachers around to our classrooms, and went to go see my 5-year-olds and immediately lost it. They remind me of my dog back home who never knew I was leaving until I started packing my bag and then just had to watch helplessly, knowing she might never see me again. One girl in particular, who had taken some time to come out of her shell and warm up to me but had recently seemed to be blissfully happy when I was in the classroom, could not stop crying. All I could do was hug her and kiss her and just tell her I Ioved her, hoping she would understand that I wish it didn't have to be this way.

Yesterday was a day of many tears. Seth and I  cried, my homeroom teacher cried, friends cried, students cried,... But now I sit on the bus headed to Busan, and they are memories and pictures, like the makeup I now realize that I forgot on the bookshelf, and the letter in Korean that I believe I might have accidentally thrown away at the post office, from my homeroom teacher. Or maybe not. Oh jeez.

Seth and I are now officially pooped out from crossing a sea with our 45lb. backpacks and walking around downtown Fukuoka. More on what happened there next time. Right now is sleeping time.

Oh My Nervous

Today is Sunday. On Saturday we leave for our trip!! Friday will be our last full day in Korea, ever. Life as we know it is about to change, completely. We are about to go from working our asses off at a job we're too used to, 9-5 with 2 weeks off per year and three sick days and not much free time in the office to even say hi to each other or plan what we're doing, to complete freedom to sleep in, walk around a city, buy souvenirs, decide to stay longer, take pictures of temples, go swimming, climb a mountain, have a rest day, get a massage, and who even knows what else. That's the thing. I don't even know.

The only time I've been off of work or school for more than a week or two in my adult life was when I was too sick to function in college and hung around with my parents after a surgery or hospitalization in general. I was so used to ruining plans because of my health. Yesterday, I hiked the mountain with a friend and twisted my ankle. For a split second I thought, "Here it is! Our reason to cancel everything. It was nice dreaming." Then I stood up, stretched it out a little bit, and kept walking. So this is happening. Saturday morning we will take a bus to Busan and board a ferry to Japan. We have our $300 Japan Rail passes in hand. We will soon get a letter of approval for our Vietnam visas. We have taken an online course to get scuba certified (which by the way, is way longer than 8-10 hours. Pretty sure it took about 20). 

If I could poop out of excitement, I would have already done it. Luckily I've got a bag into which my poop freely flows from the involuntary muscles of my small intestine.

We still have some packing to do. But for the most part we've shipped home 4 45lb. boxes by ship, and we've got 3 more. At some point in the process, some of our pillows disappeared that we used for sitting on the floor. I think we must have put them in a box by accident. I bought them when we first came, but it would have been nice of me to leave them for our replacements. Oh well. They're gone now.

I have a lot of mixed emotions about leaving my job halfway through the school year. I mean, these Kindergarteners have really started to pick up on things. Ever since my dumb kid left for the month (sorry replacement teacher who will have to deal with him on your first day alone on the job), the class has really been working hard to focus and figure shit out. I'm pretty sure that in the last month they have learned more than they did in the first three months of the semester combined. They just get my teaching style now, and I get their learning style. I can reprimand them, and they know I still love them. They know I can be a little scatterbrained sometimes, and so they'll remind me of what I wanted to do before. And they respect me. They respect me as an authority figure, just enough so I can quiet them with a look but not so much that they fear me. We've got a good thing going on.

But Wednesday is my last day alone with them before the new teacher comes in for training on Thursday and Friday, and they have no idea what's coming. We've known for months that August would be our last time with them, but we have orders not to say a word to the children until maybe Wednesday this week. I am going to crush their eager little souls. Many of them had a teacher up and leave in the middle of the year last year too, although they got no warning. They remember those teachers though. They were told the teachers were "sick," which is probably best.

The hagwon kids, on the other hand, know what's coming, and most of them are sad. One is happy, though. He's one of the kids I teach when I'm too tired to teach but have a class anyway, during my body's natural nap time, around 3:30. I teach way too many classes and I just have to do my best to push through the sleepy. I do my best and accomplish what my body will allow, which is teaching without sleeping as much as possible. Anyway, all the other kids are sad to see me go, but I explained to them that I've been away from my family for a long time and it's time to go see them again, especially since I'm getting married. They seem to get it and have accepted it, and I told them their new teacher will be very nice. I teach all the younger elementary school students who have never had a teacher leave, but I told them that this will happen a lot in English hagwons. Because that part is true.

Things I won't miss about Korea:

• incessant staring
• awkward. Korean. Interaction.
• not knowing what's going on because I'm not Korean (no matter how well I can speak it)
• standing out in the crowd all the time
• Korean men undressing me with their eyes
• showering directly onto my bathroom floor
• my tiny refrigerator 
• rainy season
• the selfie/primping culture (oh it's extreme)
• the lack of avocados, cheese, good wine, good bars
• the hagwon (after school academy) culture
• kids yelling "HELLO" at me in the street, and also adults
• hard beds that are supposed to be like the floor
• little old ladies (ajumas) cutting in line all the time

Things I'll miss:

• the little fruit and vegetable markets, with the same people working all day every day
• dumpling ramen noodles (called mandu ramyeon)
• (some of) my students
• cheap accessories 
• getting my hair permed for $60 and cut for $12
• the really purple grapes
• having a group of friends who are never too busy to hang out
• being able to say anything I want and not worry that someone will hear me or even understand
• being able to play the ignorant foreigner
• (really good) fried chicken and pizza at 11AM because a 5-year-old has a birthday
• living right next to my place of work
• jumping into a cab when I need to and paying very little
• of course, maeshil: Korean pickled green plums. 

Well. I guess we'll see. Sayonara Korea! Oh I guess I should say:
"Annyeonghigyeseyo!" -- STAY WELL. I'm leaving.

Bali trip cont'd

 Eventually we got to the point in Ubud to which I had been looking forward the whole trip: the art market. Walking down the street to the art market reminded me of King Street in downtown Boone -- there were so many little cool shops and bars. This is me in one of those bars, feeling super exotic: 

Everything in Bali is open-air.

We hung out in the art market from "Eat Pray Love" and I bought some dresses, despite Seth's complaints. I really have to be smarter about buying things in places where I will negotiate. I decide to buy the dress and THEN negotiate, instead of looking only slightly interested. Seth paid about $11 for the pants he found, and I paid anywhere between $11 and $35 for my dresses. I paid $11 the first time because that was literally all the money I had. 

So this is how Seth usually negotiates:
Seth: "hmm... I don't know... how much?"
Seller: "for you? Special price. Three hundred thousand rupiah." (That means about $30)
Seth: "three HUNDRED??! No no, one hundred." (That means about $10)
Seller: "how can I sell this for one hundred? Two fifty."
Seth: "Haha. Yeah. I don't think so. I don't want it that much." (Starts to walk away)
Seller: "ok ok two hundred."
Seth: "One twenty."
Seller: "One eighty."
Seth: "One fifty or I walk."
Seller: "One sixty."
Seth: (starts to walk away)
Seller: "OK OK one fifty."

Wasn't that masterful?? Now here's how I negotiate:
Me: "Ok. You are very convincing. I will buy your dress. Oh. How much for it?"
Seller: "This dress? Five hundred thousand rupiah." (About $50)
Me: "What. Maybe two fifty."
Seller: "Oh, you go half price. Hmmm... four fifty."
Me: "Two eighty."
Seller: "How can I sell this dress for two eighty? I need to eat. Four twenty."
Me: "OK three hundred." (looking to the side, don't like confrontation)
Seller: "Three eighty."
Me: "Three twenty."
Seller: "Three fifty, my final price. I drink only water."
Me: "WHAT? Only water?? OK three fifty."

See? I'm the worst. I've gotten better though. I just really like dresses and the sellers see it. Whatever. I have other strengths. 

We spent too long negotiating at the art market and then missed the sunset at Tanah Lot, one of the most famous temples in Bali. I cursed myself for letting the cab driver waste our time at the factories we never cared about seeing anyway, but then realized it was the hotel probably getting the biggest kickback since they included it in the itinerary and were charging way more than what the cab driver would have charged for a full day of touring. We learned an expensive lesson on this trip, i.e. go where you have control. To be fair, we have learned that lesson several times. Fool me once... damn.

The next day we went snorkling on Menjangen (men-YANG-en) Island. We drove out a few hours to get to the island and then took a boat for about a half hour to get to the dive/snorkle site. The cool old Australians who were also staying at the timeshare came on the same bus (a bus-van named "The Magical Mystery Tour" and playing Bob Marley) and were good company. When we got out to the Island though, Seth's mask and snorkel kept filling with water. He switched with me, then my snorkel kept filling with water. I switched with the guide, and....  my snorkel kept filling with water. "Just blow out the water," he said. Oh yeah. Blow out the water. Look like a moron doing the doggie paddle with a snorkel and raise your head above the water so you can blow it out every five breaths. Meanwhile, take some pictures! Great plan. Eventually I switched with him again, back to my second snorkel, and he had fixed it. We saw some pretty big blue starfish, some clown fish, and some Little Mermaid-esque white clams opening and closing to reveal really bright colors! I had a waterproof case for my phone to take pictures, but guess what! Touch screens don't work under water. So I had to go above water, set the timer on the camera, press the button, and then go back underwater with the phone and aim at something, all without drowning. I did this about 15 times before my phone ran out of battery, but I got a few OK pictures:

Trying to get the surface and the bottom

This one was more of a happy mistake.

Can you see the clownfish? I swear he's there.

Thursday we packed our bags and headed out to Kuta, a more touristy area of Bali, where there were many more people and options for food and some great beach access with umbrellas to rent for Seth's extremely white skin. The new hotel didn't have a view of the mountains over the rainforest jungle and a sunset, but rather a view of the pool, free wifi that worked, and a complimentary breakfast. Which is also pretty great. The next two days were a blur of walking around this beach town, sun bathing, a very intricate mani-pedi on the beach, sleeping, reading, and eating way too much delicious food. 

Oh! The last night before our plane left, we spent an evening at the Bali Zoo! We got VIP access and fed an elephant, pet some goats, got a guided tour around the zoo at nighttime, held a bear cat, parrots and a python and watched a fire dance during a buffet dinner! I highly reccommend this experience if you're ever in Bali. 

 We are now fat happy tan foreigners, back in Korea. Twenty-four days until we leave for our next big adventure!  

Some cultural observations:
- Whenever I negotiated, the sellers would tell me they'd give me a special price "for good luck." Then after I paid, they would touch their newly acquired money to the other products in their store, presumably also for good luck.
- In Bali, offerings to the Hindu Gods are EVERYWHERE. These consist of banana leaves folded into a little half box, and then flowers, fruit and insense arranged neatly inside. People usually placed them in their cars, in front of store fronts, restaurants, temples, and Hindu statues. If you aren't careful it's easy step on them by accident, which Seth and I often did. People didn't seem to mind, as many were already demolished. I guess the Gods get the intention.
- There are so many dogs just hangin out in Bali. We mentioned this to our cab driver who told us they never put dogs in cages. I'm a fan, except for the dogs that get run over and the other ones who are mostly skin and bones because they don't have a proper owner. Usually they'd just eat the fruit out of the offerings though.
- The government is working on Bali's infrastructure, but they still have a long way to go. The only road from the timeshare in the sticks to Denpasar (the city with the airport and close to the main beach town) is a two-lane windy road that takes about 3 hours, because trucks are constantly moving food and building  materials back and forth. Also traffic laws are more of a suggestion than a rule. This kind of prevented us from seeing as much as we wanted in a week, because it was such a long time to sit in a car if we wanted to get anywhere.
- I finally got to try the meat and vegetables wrapped in a banana leaf then grilled over charcoal. This was a happy experience. I was so sad when it was gone.




That's all folks!