Near Death (Valley) Experience

It's been a while but recently I've been trying to find a job here in Tennessee and I've gotten away from my blog, but one of the reasons I wanted to spend time her in the dirty south was to have more time writing, so I'm focused on getting back on it. This chapter of my trip picks up after visiting Joshua Tree National Park, and after seeing much of the west coast of the United States. The Climax was the Grand Canyon, but little did I know then, that after the finale there would be a crazy twist ending...

We left Joshua tree really pumped. It was exciting because we didn't have to return the rental car yet. While we had planned on getting a rental car for only 5 days, the friendly, fast talking, teenager behind the counter at the airport rental car dealer told us that 5 days is the same price as a week so we'd get two additional days if we wanted them for no additional charge. So instead of rushing back to Vegas in a hurry we had 2 more days to leisurely head to the pleasantly named "Death Valley" and take in all the sights there as if it was an unexpected cherry on top of the Grand Canyon cake that already had Joshua Tree icing on it. Looking back it should have seemed obvious that getting "extra time" to see a place called "Death Valley" is not so much of a cherry on top, but more like a death sentence. But in the moment we took our worry free traveling smiles to the road and put the petal down in the direction of the hottest place in the United States.

Driving to Death Valley was an experience in itself. Growing up in New Jersey it's not uncommon to share the road (and I use the term "share" lightly) with about 10,000 other cars all going in the same direction. Yet here, on these open roads in the west it was the norm to be the only car in sight. Heck, we were the only man made object in sight for hours on end. It was just road, dirt, cactus's and us. Without too much to look at our attention become fixed upon the car dashboard. Why you might ask? Well in the high heat even the littlest things can become entertaining. Our entertainment was watching the temperature gauge go up degree by degree, each time getting a little cheer out of us. Again, our ignorance in hind sight seems obvious, but in a new rental car with the AC going full blast we weren't feeling the ill effects of the rising temperature, well, not yet.

Our map showed a little town called "Shoshone" a ways outside of the Death Valley entrance but we thought we'd stop anyway because we were hungry. The Famous Crowbar Cafe and Saloon, seemed to be the only restaurant in town. It was next to a museum that looked like an old barn, and across the street from the post office that doubled as the towns reminder that they might actually be connected to other people, even if only by mail. We stopped at the Crowbar. It was Thursday so I went in an asked for 5 beers for 25 cents, but sadly this Crowbar did not have the same "Thirsty Thursdays" drink specials that my Crowbar back at Penn State had. Oh the good old days of drinks for a nickel, I guess it was a bit of wishful thinking, but it was worth a try.

After lunch at the Crowbar we figured we'd hit plenty of tourist places before and after the Death Valley entrance but we could not have been more wrong. While I know I pictured a large overhanging sign across the road, maybe even with large doors like Jurassic Park, the entrance to National Park was much less theatrical. It was a small booth on the side of the road. One that even a one hour Kodak booth might spit on. No people, not Ranger to tell us good information and give us a map, just a slot to take our money, give us a receipt, and we had to begrudgingly take our own map from a stack of maps.

But we were there! Death Valley was real, we were in it, and it was HOT! We stopped all over the place. Trying to take in everything we could. It was interesting seeing the names they gave to the different parts of this deserted area of land. Death Valley is just strange area after strange area, but they are all strange because they are completely deserted and under some of the most extreme temperatures on the planet. One area looks like a desert, one like a dried up ocean, one like a waste land, another like a desert, some like hills of different color sands, but they all had one thing in common...HEAT!

We took plenty of pictures during the day we were there. Please check them out. But one picture we never got to take was one of the sand dunes during the sunset. You see, we were at the lowest point in North America, a spot called "Badwater", one of the furthest spots in Death Valley that you have to drive to. And when did we go there? Of course right before the sunset when the number one thing we wanted to see were the sand dunes during the sunset. As we realized the sun was going down faster than we had expected we jumped in the rental and pealed out of there. Tobi was being a bit aggressive as the car started to reach the fastest speeds that we had seen all week. We both sat silent as the speedometer raised, and the sun fell. The bright yellow ball in the sky was coming closer to the horizon every second and we were racing it to the sand dunes.

It may have been that "invincible" feeling that we had as travelers to think we could beat the sunset, but it was invigorating. As the car hit ninety-five not a word was spoken but we both thought we were going to make it. We were certain that we would be sitting relaxed in the desert as the sun set beautifully on the horizon, there was no doubt. Then, doubt didn't just creep into our thoughts, it smacked us in the face. The cars dashboard began to light up as if we had won a jackpot on a slot machine in Vegas. Only the car didn't spit out money, instead it started coughing and seizing, and we had to pull it over. The five or six cars that we recently flew by all slowly drove by us pulled over on the side of the road with a new appreciation for the childrens book "The Tortoise and the Hair". We were stranded. Not stranded like you think about being stranded today. Today if you pull over on the side of the road hundreds if not thousands of people will see you, you have a cell phone to call help, and if you really needed to you could walk to a gas station. No this was not our definition of stranded, we were in a whole different situation.

We are now on the side of one of the longest roads in Death Valley that only leads to a lookout spot called "Badwater". A lookout stop that is worthless during the night, so during a sunset we are pretty certain that no more cars will be coming this way until the next day. We are miles away from anything, it is 119 degrees out, and our cell phones ceased having service back in Shoshone. The sunset was no longer a race but a ticking clock for our survival.

Hiking Spree in Yosemite

After sobering up, a decent nights sleep in a roadside hotel (actual name "Roadside Hotel), and taking a few bottles of wine for the road, Elizabeth and I were able to descend into Yosemite Valley in the middle of the night. We probably should have done a little more research because without any welcome signs, or street lights, Yosemite Valley can appear to be a pretty unwelcoming place when it's pitch black. The winding roads go up, down, and around hills in such extreme ways you can see the same road you're on changing its direction several times in the distance as if the road itself doesn't know which way to go. A large flashing sign that read "Yosemite Valley Closed 10pm-4am" freaked us out and for a second it felt like I'd just reached Walley World with the Griswold family, but luckily enough for us it was only 9:30pm and Yosemite Valley wasn't closed for maintenance. There were no rangers working at that time though, and we just pulled through the entrance gate not knowing if we were breaking the law or what.

However, even after going through the "entrance" of Yosemite, you still have to drive a ways to get to the camp grounds. More winding roads along sharp cliffs were ahead until we saw something even more frightening looking appear right in front of us. Just like a good teen horror movie, our car headlights illuminated two large men carrying ropes, boots, and gear at the last second. Elizabeth screeched the car to a halt because she was so scared. While I tried to ask her why she stopped instead of getting as far away as possible from those two imposing figures, it was too late...those imposing figures were now both knocking on my window.

There is absolutely zero light around so two dark shadows stand over the car able to see in where the inside light is spotlighting our scared faces. Then in broken English I hear one of them say "You ride us camp?" These weren't hitchhikers from a teen horror movie, these were just over aambitious foreigners stranded after a day of rock climbing. The whole scenario was hysterical though. You would have had to been crazy to stop for these two guys (Elizabeth???), but then they sounded so helpless while still looking like a nightmare. Then while letting them in the whole time Willow was barking at them like they were Terminators. When they finally squeezed into the back seat with their over sized backpacks and climbing equipment you couldn't tell there were people sitting there. You would have just guessed Elizabeth and I packed the whole car to the brim with camping gear. So for the next 10 minutes or so of the ride we chatted with our new passengers.

They were from Austria, and seemed quite harmless. Talking with them was difficult though because it sounded like their bodies were rejecting the English language, and Elizabeth and I kept laughing while talking to them because their voices weren't coming from them. To us it looked like we were talking to two overstuffed backpacks. We got near camp and they stumbled out of the car with all of their equipment. Overall a very strange experience, and since Willow never stopped barking at them I'm still suspicious they might have been a new generation of "T-1000's". I never did actually see their faces. I guess we'll never know, but at least I survived.

We then checked into Curry Village and unloaded our stuff into our heated tent. Yes, the tent was heated, thank you Curry Village, and than you Elizabeth. A heated tent is definitely not something I would spring for if I were alone. The accommodations were nice but you can't really keep anything in your tent. Almost all belongings that look like food, smell like food, taste like food, or have been in the same country as food in the past 6 weeks need to be locked your provided the bear locker. Being that there was a "bear locker" and bear warnings all over the place I was hoping I would see one. I didn't...

But I did see nature at its finest. I also met a couple really cool guys to hike with and I did every trail I could (although Half Dome was closed for snow). The waterfalls were spectacular, rock faces were unreal, lakes, streams, paths, trails, they all blew me away. I loved Yosemite and felt so lucky to be able to visit there because I thought it was something special. Then I saw pictures of families that had been coming to Yosemite for vacations for over a hundred years. It made it seem a little less "adventurous" but a bit more educational. Either way, I got some amazing photos:

Redwood National Forest

Back on the road again! This time headed to multiple destinations with one other traveler, who has a car and is willing to drive me! I was lucky enough to meet Elizabeth who also wanted to see Redwood National Park, Napa Valley and Yosemite. She was a blessing from above and even picked me up at my Aunt and Uncles house...an hour EARLY! I'm not sure if it was her kind smile, jovial demeanor, or her friendly dog, Willow, that she brought along, but my family and I were pretty confident right off the bat that this was going to work out well.

Elizabeth enjoyed talking just as much as I do, if not more, so we got along well, and had very little moments of silence. But when there was silence I would just turn around and pet Willow who was an extra special bonus traveler for me because, as we all know, I love dogs.

Our drive down to Redwood National Forrest went as well as I could have hoped for. Being the navigator, the fact that I didn't get us lost made it a success, but we made it down there without any unnecessary excitement, well, that was until we got close. We were just one turn away from the Youth Hostel we looking for when something unexpected happened. Being from New Jersey it's nothing special to see an animal run across the street right in front of your car, but it's usually a deer or a squirrel. But from the size of the paws on this cat that swiftly bolted across the street directly in front of our car, I was instantly cognizant that I was not in New Jersey anymore...and I liked it.

After discussing with some locals, what we saw was either a young mountain lion or bobcat, but we had an instant conversation starter for when we got to the hostel.

The frail, rail thin, dread locked, white, 20 something behind the hostel check in counter was exactly what I expected to see and worked with the slow pace you can only chalk up to a hippie in his absolute prime. While checking us in, after minutes of long silences that he didn't seem to notice, he mentioned that the hostel, with a whopping 8 people staying at it, was going to be performing a "concert" soon after we checked in. I chuckled at the idea of what might pass as a "concert" to a hippie living at a youth hostel, and completely disregarded his invitation right then and there. I was VERY HUNGRY though, and I had a Subway "5 dollar footlong" (great buy) that needed to be eaten quickly so I could get a short hike in before the sun went down. I hurried to put my bags down in my room that could fit 10 people, but I only shared it with one middle aged man who resembled a hippie Santa Clause.

I initially entered the kitchen to eat my sub, but was alone at a table that could have seated 30, so I decided to take it into the more cozy family room where some other people were sitting around. Little did I know, I had just unwittingly upped the attendance at tonights "concert" I had only minutes earlier swore off. Only 5 people were sitting around. I'm happy I took the open seat on the couch because it would have been really awkward if I sat in the open seat that was now obviously set for the performer. But once he did sit down I was almost trapped into staying and listening. Yet, I'm a fan of music, and who turns down live entertainment while eating unless you're alone at a Mexican restaurant with a large Mariachi band walking around? So I sat, and ate, and listened...

Wow! The performers name was Jim Page and I was hooked as soon as he started strumming his guitar. Honestly, it was like I was in a trance, hanging on every word, every chorus, listening for the rhymes, trying to predict the next word, but being pleasantly surprised when the lyrics were better than my own. This was a true American experience, sitting around in a small group listening to an old man sing about the problems of the government, the religious extremists, the struggles of day to day life, and the hidden beauty behind it all. He might as well have been singing around a campfire.

Living outside of America for a year really made this a much fuller experience for me. Instead of being a tourist who couldn't understand a word of what what monks, native, or local people were singing about while I was on my travels, this was something completely different. I was part of the experience, not watching from the outside, staring at something so alien to me it's entertaining, but actually connecting with the performers words, sounds, and spirit. There was something great about hearing his thoughts, dreams, fears, and desires. There was something uniquely American about it all.

After living in Korea, making friends there, being accepted into families there, and enjoying their culture I felt an unusual connection to the place. Like I've said before, I now, as oddly as it sounds, see Seoul as a second home. Much the way I looked at college while I was attending Penn State. It's a place where I've proved that I can live a great life. But while I was in Korea my admiration of and connection to America weakened. I was hoping, but not too confident that this trip might rekindle the strong connection I had once felt for my own country. This wonderful concert was a big step forward in doing that. I would have never expected it, but there are little, seemingly insignificant experiences that can have a great impact on our lives, and how we live them. This concert was something I could have easily walked away from without giving it a chance, but instead I sat, listened, and ate it all up...every last word.

Of course then the next few days I went out and hiked through amazing forests with enormous trees older than dirt. My new mindset just made it all that much more enjoyable.

Next stop, the wine regions of Sonoma and Napa Valley! Ready or not, here I come with a new CD in hand, haha, I had to support a musician who stays at hostels.

Back in the States, Start in Seattle

I'm back! I can't believe it's been over a year since I stepped on American soil. I've seen so many things while away, and lived such a different lifestyle that things that seem so normal over here now seem foreign to me. Do you notice how many over weight people are walking around this country? I do! Do you stare at people with blond, and red hair? I've been staring at those people like they've got two heads lately. Is it me or are there homeless people asking you for money on every corner? That's what it feels like to me, and they're not even trying to sell you souvenirs. What about young Asian American kids who speak perfect English? Boy does that one throw me for a loop. After traveling Asia I espet ebery persum of Ashan decent to have a wittle dipperent speaking style, but then a 10 year old tells me "I am pleased to meet you, and I'd love to chat but I have to work on my calculus homework." I feel like a kid again. All things look new, and all things taste new. noo one ever told me that the food tastes better when you get back home. All the things I'd been craving early in my trip to Korea, but then forgot about after I settled in, all taste like I'm eating them for the first time in my life all over again. I've announced to others that "these are the best oranges ever!", "the chicken sandwich at that bar was amazing!", "I haven't had a bowl of cereal this good in my life!" and the list goes on: Strawberries, pasta, burgers, fries, etc... they all taste amazing. It's as if my taste buds were let out of prison and are enjoying the freedoms they once took for granted. But the food is just our regular, ordinary, run of the mill American food. Usually drenched in grease, salt, or butter, and you know what I realized? I love it. But it's not just that. American food has tons of "extras". You don't eat a ham sandwich. You eat a ham sandwich with lettuce, tomato, cheese, salt, pepper, mustard, and mayonnaise. Those little add ons are the things I didn't realize I had been missing, but now I can't help but recognize them and thank god for them every time I bight into my sweet sweet American food. I've heard some people say that when returning back to the states they felt the food tasted "artificial" and didn't like it after a year of eating natural and healthy food in Korea, but I'm here to tell you that there is nothing artificial tasting about a flame grilled burger, and when you deprive yourself of them for 13 months, your sensory system starts doing cartwheels when you reintroduce them. I've basically been on a high every breakfast, lunch and dinner since getting back, who needs drugs when you have a fat juicy steak?

Where was I? Oh yeah, Seattle. I had been wanting to visit Seattle for a while because my brother Kevin moved there a few years ago. So I figured why not now while I'm not tied down. I can fly into Seattle and then make my way back across the states stopping wherever and seeing whatever I want. I'd never traveled America and once you get to KOREA and people ask you about famous American sights, in my own country, and I have to say "I don't know, I haven't been there" they kind of look at you like your crazy. I mean who travels around the world to KOREA without seeing their own country first? I guess I do, but I think I appreciated America's beauty and differences a little more this way. So, anyway, that was the plan. Fly into Seattle, and travel across the country. Sounds pretty well thought out huh? Yeah it wasn't. Where do I start?

My flight from Hong Kong was basically one of the worst experiences of my life. Somewhere in between my snorkeling, volcano hiking, and villa living in Bali I was bitten by a super powered Indonesian spider. Not unlike the spider of the famous Marvel comic book "Spiderman" but instead of giving me super powers it gave me a super swollen, itchy forehead. I was so uncomfortable, I wanted to scratch my face off, but I had to sit in an airplane seat for 10 hours and try and look normal even though I looked like Hasim Rahman after his fight with Evander Holyfield. I did actually make it without going insane, and when I stepped out of the Seattle airport I realized my first mistake. I had packed my backpack for over a month of travel in Sunny Australia, warm Hong Kong, and tropical Bali. The cold misty breeze of Seattle rain was not something my short, t-shirt, and sandal wearing self was prepared for. After all of my brothers stories about hiking, boats, and other outdoor activities in Seattle I just kind of figured it was warm...I am an idiot.

So as if that wasn't enough, the icing on the cake would be that the first full day I spent in America in over a year was spent in the Seattle Washington Emergency Room. A real welcome spending that special day with some of America's finest in an over crowded waiting room while I was still in a case of extreme discomfort. The doctors didn't have a clue, and I couldn't help them much. Before the bump got all on steroids I just thought it was a mosquito bight. They gave me strong antibiotics and medicine for the itch and told me to pray. I was bed ridden in my brothers apartment for the next week. I considered buying a plane ticket to my parents home in Tennessee and canceling the whole trip. I don't know why I didn't do it, but I'm so thankful I decided against it.

I did come out of my funk, with only a few scars. I have less eye lashes today than before my trip, and a small section of the top of my head is missing, but overall I think having a permanant reminder of not giving up on something you want to do isn't such a terrible thing.

Seattle turned out to be a blast. My brother has a bunch of awesome friends out there, who I'm lucky to feel like they are kind of my friends now too. The city is pretty, has lots of things to do, yet also keeps a sort of homey feel. I walked around the city, went hiking, saw some sights, spent some time with some cool people, watched the NCAA Tournament Finals (Oh glorious March Madness), and saw a tulip festival. This was the first stop on a long American journey and it had it's road bumps but overall I'm so glad I persevered through it. I loved seeing my brother and his wife out there. They really love Seattle, and I loved being there with them. Also, the food wasn't bad either :)

Check it out...you know the drill.

No Mo So Ko

Can you believe it? No more South Korea for me. I'm done with my year of teaching English there. It feels weird to say because that had really become my persona for a year. Everyone I had known through my whole life, or met during this year, heard at one time or another that I was "teaching English in Korea". This is just a fact that at times I said so often I sometimes wish it could be avoided, but it couldn't, it was just something so far out of the norm that it was going to come up in one way or another. Actually, it's the same now being back in America, it's impossible to answer even the most mundane questions (What do you do? Where do you live? What are you doing here?) without having to reproduce my own eccentric year in review. It's not that I don't like bringing it up because I didn't like it, it's actually the opposite. I really liked it, and every time someone brings it up I remember all the good times I had in Korea and it makes me kind of sad that I'm not there right now.

After parting ways with my parents in China I returned to Korea with only two weeks left on my contract. One week off after one week of school, "Graduation Week", which was basically a glorified vacation week mixed with a long emotional goodbye to all of the teachers and students I had become close with throughout the year. I saw these people everyday, became close with them. They took care of me, took me out to dinner, took me hiking, taught me to play badminton. I went out to drinks with them, threw parties for them, partied with them, danced with some of them, and sang with or for all of them (usually Eminem...at their request). The thing is, I became close with some special people I met here. I have close friends in America but these relationships were different to me. These friendships made me realize that there are good people all over the planet, and it made me feel like I was a good person too. It showed me that I can be thousands of miles away from my family yet still feel like they are close.

Graduation week was pretty sad. It felt weird to be sitting at my desk knowing that it was the last week I'd ever sit at it, and next year some other foreign teacher would be sitting at it. Weirder still when I got to meet that new teacher. He was really nice though, and I think he'll be a good fit for the school and the students. But each time I saw students, ate lunch, and went to classes and meetings I was reminded that I will never do this again, and will most likely never see most of these people ever again. It was a really sad and harsh realization.

During the last teachers meeting, a meeting I had attended every week for a year and not understood one word the entire time, Rachel and I were supposed to give goodbye speeches. Rachel stood up first and read her speech. It was supposed to be translated but that got shot down at the last second. Then it was my turn. I had spent the last couple of days with someone I am deeply indebted to trying to write my speech in Korean. I walked up the the podium I'd seen my principal talk at so many times before, never knowing a word he was saying, and I know that is what the eighty Shinjin teachers were expecting out of me. I looked up at all of them and felt my nervous heart beat fast, my hands shake, and felt the temperature of the room rise about twenty degrees. Then I read my speech in Korean. It was quiet before I started my speech, obviously, but once I started speaking it was eerie how silent it became. As if I could sense the collective conscience of them all recognize I was speaking Korean, and they listened in even more intently to try and get every word. I'm sure I made plenty of mistakes, but I finished, and sat down thinking it all went alright. Then the meeting ended seconds later, and to me it seemed like every teacher in the whole school came up to congratulate me, say good job, say goodbye, or say they would miss me too. After the realization that they understood it, and seeing that they were all touched by it, it was hard to hold in my emotion. Having a school full of teachers I respect all want to shake my hand, while knowing that this is the last day I will see most of them was just a little too much to handle. Tears rushed to my eyes almost as fast as the teachers rushed up to me.

Honestly it was one of those moments that I'll never forget. I felt like I'd graduated from something, I don't know what, but some sort of life step. No cap and gown or diploma, but a real feeling of moving up in the world. I had come here to do something and this meeting culminated the idea that I succeeded with nearly all of my good intentions.

Once the last day of school was over I had only one week to plan last meetings with all of my close friends in Korea before I left. I had lunches and dinners almost everyday of the week, and sometimes plans for drinks after them too. Sadly, I came down with a really serious case of food poisoning the day I had some of the most meetings planned, my last full day in Korea. Yup, instead of lunch with my principal, a guy who's life I wish I could have lived, a dinner with Mr. Jong who'd become like a father to both Rachel and I, and plenty of late night drinks with Alex, Jeff and Rachel on my last night, instead I spent it sick in bed. I'll always remember that night too, for a number of reasons I won't say, but it was something out of a movie.

But the goodbye dinners and lunches I did get to go to were really special too. I will never forget the people I met in Korea, I'm sure of it. Right now I still can't get Korea out of my head. I miss my apartment, my desk, the empty school gym, my hours, my vacation, my pay check, my friends, my Korean family, and my second home. That's what it was, and is, my second home. I cheer for Korea when I see them now in sporting events, and I feel somehow connected to the place. I like that. So even though I'm not in South Korea anymore, it's not no more South Korea for me, it'll always be there, and in some way I'll always be there too.The last time I sat at my desk...

Snap Back to (a sad) Reality

Well after all those happy posts about Karl in Korea I feel maybe it's about time we got back to reality. You know, life isn't all just vacations, parties, and holidays (even though I wish it was) there are some real issues too. Last night, on a regular Saturday I was hit by one of those issues. An issue I didn't see coming, maybe due to ignorance, maybe due to denial, or maybe just because I didn't know it could happen to me, but it did.

I grew up in a white, upper-middle class family, in a white town, with predominantly white friends. That isn't exactly the recipe for racial discrimination in America, it's quite the opposite actually. To be honest my background might be the anti-discrimination profile. So obviously I didn't know too much about the issue personally. You read about it, see it in movies, magazines, news papers, but nothing really rings the reality bell as loud as personal experience.

This past weekend I went out with my best and closest Korean friend, who also happens to be a woman. She took me out to Apgujeong, which is another hot spot in Seoul with a good nightlife scene. It's a nicer area than where I normally go out; places like Iteawon, Hongdae, or Sinchon. We had a meal and drinks surrounded by what seemed to be Seoul's exclusive swanky youth. Now while I'm used to being the only white person around my neighborhood, when I'm out on the town there are usually other foreigners around, but in Apgujeong I didn't see any other people who weren't Asian. It was just me, yet I didn't feel out of place. I was with a friend, out to dinner, just like I had been many times before, and it was really nice. But that wasn't where the night ended. We decided to go to Iteawon to meet up with some of our other friends.

We went to the only Irish pub I know in Seoul, Wolfhounds. I've been to Wolfhounds plenty of times but right as we sat down, meeting up with Jeff, Alex, Kyeonghe and Jinjew, it was impossible not to notice the drunk women sitting at the table next to us. They were just being obnoxious. You know when drunk people butt into other tables conversations, sing too loud, and dance in their seats? Yeah, you know what I'm talking about, That's what we were dealing with. But then they started taking pictures of us. Two drunk women were taking pictures of me and my friends and I found it quiet offensive for a flash to be going off every couple of moments, from a few feet away, during our conversations. When I asked her to stop she very maturely replied "No, who cares?". Obviously she had communication difficulties because she couldn't put together that someone who asks you to stop obviously cares about what you're doing. Either way, I hoped that would be the end of it but it wasn't.

She said she wanted the pictures for her blog (ironic huh?) to show how messed up it is to see white guys with Korean girls. Those words were my first actual taste of discrimination. I realize it doesn't sound like much now but it's such a hard feeling to describe how I felt when I heard it. I knew that those words hurt my friends, made us all feel uncomfortable, like we shouldn't be talking together, out together, seen together, or even friends just because our skin color was different. It instantly made my heart beat race. There wasn't a logical response that came to mind because it was clouded by anger, so I wanted to think of something witty to say, but nothing I could think of saying would change the color of our skin. It was a helpless feeling.

The only thing I was able to get out while I stared at this woman was "How old are you?" Her response made me wince on so many different levels. She paused, looked me square in the eye and said "I'm thirty" (My face: ohhhhhh :/ ). It just seemed unfortunate for so many reasons:
1 - because she didn't look a day under 40, and I felt bad that she felt she needed to lie about her age.
2 - then again, maybe she wasn't lying and she just looks horrifyingly old for her age.
3 - either way, a "thirty" year old woman out at a bar, drunk, with only a female friend as company on a Saturday night, in SOUTH KOREA no less, must have a ton of relationship issues.
4 - I also winced for myself. How could a woman who had expressed no signs of intellect thus far make me feel bad about myself?

I think I should be stronger than that, I thought I was, but I felt bad none the less. I couldn't take her words back, lord knows I tried to take her camera (but I can't really do much to a "thirty" year old woman when it all comes down to it, now can I). I had to give back her camera, I had to try and be amicable with her, and I had to endure her drunken justifications of her prejudiced point of view, in childlike English, and aided by body language because she thought our Korean friends, who speak English, couldn't understand her without it (which only angered me more).

By the end of it I felt bad for her because she was so ignorant, but she repeatedly protested how she was "not judgmental" through it all. Then again maybe I don't know what judgmental means (definition: having or displaying an excessively critical point of view). If sitting next to people you don't know and telling them they don't belong together while making them feel extremely uncomfortable isn't judgmental then maybe I should call it what it really is, racist.

I have some closing thoughts on this experience:

- I am well aware that what I went through is nothing, I repeat NOTHING, compared to what other people have endured, but maybe we all can learn a little something about tolerance, I did, and I feel it's a lesson always worth sharing.

- Her closing line to me was, "In 'the South' you couldn't get a woman." This statement made me wince once again (I was praying that she was Canadian). No, all jokes aside, I am worried for America when a person from "the South" can come all the way to South Korea and still carry such ingrained prejudices with them.

- Even when I did stand out as the only foreigner in an entire restaurant, on this night, I didn't feel out of place. It took an American to make me feel like I didn't belong.

- I'm sorry my friends had to go through that. I wish I could have done more.

Annyeonghi Kaseyo (Goodbye in Korean)

It seems like a month ago when I saw the countdown to Karl's arrival hit Nonuple zeros (nine zeros), but in actuality it's just been an action packed week. It's hard to believe that my best friend has already come and gone to the other side of the world to see me, but he has. I put Karl on a bus to the airport just yesterday, and I'm glad to say that I got an email confirming his safe arrival back in Dirty Jersey just hours ago.

But since the day he arrived in Seoul I hadn't had a chance to blog so there is a lot to catch up on. Palace's, parties, club night, birthdays, New Years, Seoul Tower, shopping, bus rides, subway rides, ball pits, and just saying "eating" as a topic doesn't give what we did the justice it deserves.

I was right when I said "Capt'n Karl is here...and he's all business." He came knowing that he had only one week to experience everything Korea had to offer so we had to get right to work. But I wanted Karl to see not only what Korea had to offer but what my experience in Korea has been like too. So the night he arrived I took him to a local restaurant where my friends joined us for what most foreigners consider their favorite Korean dish, Daeji Galbi. Daeji Galbi is barbecued pork ribs, and pretty much everyone likes them in Korea.

After dinner we headed to my apartment for some after dinner drinks and what was supposed to be a calm first night, for Karl to recover from his flight, turned into a
full blown welcoming party.

Karl got his first tastes of Korean alcohol; Soju, Macoli, and the local beers, Cass, Hite, and OB. Plus, he also got introduced to his KING SIZED BED that I got for him to sleep on while he was here. It was an all around good night. But it was just night number one. Take a look and check back soon for updates.

The Evolution of Revolution

Everyday I sit and watch CNN, even if it's just a few minutes while I eat my breakfast. I think it's important to hear the world news, to be aware of things that are happening to others, or have an idea of how the world is changing. For the first time though I am seeing world news from the other side. Instead of being part of America as it is talked about on TV, I can now see it from the rest of the worlds point of view. It's the same story, but something is different. It's almost like when someone says to you, "it looks like your putting on a little weight," and you hate them for it, instantly. You know yourself, you know your weight, you know everything there is to know about your body, and they are rude, inappropriate, and stuck up for even mentioning such a thing to you. Then the day comes, a day like any other, but on this day when you mossy out of bed you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It's a mirror you've seen a million times, and a body you've seen a billion times, but today you think "eh, it looks like I've put on a little weight." Sometimes when you have a problem the only one who can't see it is you.

This weekend I tried to sit down and watch as many political debates, and speeches as the internet would allow me to because I still have no idea who I want to vote for in next years presidential election. I have seen the big names; Clinton, Obama, Giuliani, etc, but none of them have really done anything to bolster my confidence in them that they would be a good leader for America. I'm taken by how much running for "president" has become like running for "class president." Remeber in high school or juior high when the over qualified, highly studious, detail oriented student, full of school spirit had to run against one of the popular kids? The only difference between then and now seems to be that in high school we knew it was a sham. Everyone knew that the popular kid was running on his or her name, face, charm, or popularity, and while some people thought it would be cool to elect them, others new the less popular student would do the better job. From school to school and year to year the outcomes change; sometimes cute wins and sometimes quality wins, but the school never seems to be too affected by the outcome much anyway. Well I don't know when it became a popularity contest for America, but that is the way I see it now.

Republicans and Democrats no longer look for the best candidate for President. Honest. They don't want the most qualified person. They want the person that stands the best chance of winning the election, or in high school terms, the most popular. They think the American people can't look past a famous name, a smooth talker, or a confident smile. Can you blame them? Since 1981 our cuntry has been run by a famous movie star, Ronald Reagan, then his Vice President, George Bush Sr., then he was defeated by "Slick Willy", a captivating speaker otherwise known as Bill Clinton, and when we couldn't vote for him anymore we voted for a name we already knew, George Bush again. Well now his time is up, and again a name we know leads the pack...Clinton. These people may or may not have been the best candidates, but they always seem to be the best choice for other reasons than their platform. Either they're famous, or they were the Vice President to a popular President, or they are a great speaker, or they are the son or wife of a President.

The government feels that the popular kid is the only one with the chance to win, so they are the only ones who get endorsed. These endorsements come in terms of more money, more tv ads, more air time during debates, more campaign stops, and all so they can look more like the more qualified candidate. But in high school when the captain of the cheer leading squad tells us she's going to get the class trip to go to Cancun, or get a cotton candy machine in the lunchroom, we know she's really only blowing smoke. Yet somehow we don't see it when the stage becomes larger and more important.

I'm not saying I can see through the smoke and mirrors, I may know less than you, I may not, but I was taken by one candidate when I watched all of those presidential candidate videos this weekend. He was a candidate that has little chance of winning. He has a name that few know, and ideas that even fewer know, but I think he's worth listening to. *Note: I want to say, like I have in this blog before, so far, I am not endorsing this person for president, but I am saying that it is a different way of thinking, of which I'm glad I heard. If you like it, great, but if not, I only hope it makes you dig deeper or think harder about your decision on this topic.* His name is Ron Paul. When I felt like all other candidates were only speaking to "sound good", his words sounded like they were coming from his heart. That is no basis for choosing a president, but I never want to chose one who doesn't.

My basic belief is that I feel a two party system isn't the best system for our society. I even believed this when I thought America was nearly a flawless country. A two party system leads to one view point being seen as right and the other as wrong. But any knowledgeable person knows things are not that simple, there is always a third way to look at things, a grey area, or room to compromise. So we only get one chance every four years to make our voices heard, the voices of reason, and compromise. I don't know if Ron Paul is a worthy candidate yet, but I like the idea of helping his campaign because the better he does may better the chance America has for getting more qualified candidates in the future.

He's trying to raise money for his campaign on the internet. This internet revolution might be the key for lesser known candidates to get noticed. If this gains enough momentum, maybe we'll see an independent follow in his footsteps in the future. No one likes choosing between the lesser of two evils, let alone doing it for the president. But maybe this year taking a chance on someone who stands against war is the best choice we can make. He might show American's that there are people out there, besides the "popular" elite, that are worthy of leadership. He might show us it's okay to see ourselves as we look in the mirror; we maybe putting on some (or a ton) of unflattering weight, but it's not too late to start a healthier diet.
Maybe, just maybe, things can change. I think they can.

Check it out.