The Danger Zone

        If you know me, you know that I've always lived on the edge.  Where'd I grow up?  Saint Louis, one of the most dangerous cities in America.  Then it was off to Phoenix for university, a hotbed of drugs, gangs, and kidnappings. So while I've enjoyed the safety and seclusion of my little town in South Korea, I can't say I've ever been concerned for my life.  And that's just not acceptable.  But lucky for me, I heard about a magical, treacherous place that's only a few hours away by bus.  That's right.  I went to North Korea.      

        One fateful weekend, a few friends and I drove up to Seoul, and then took the two hour bus ride to the border.  You can't really get access to the area unless you're with the military or a tour group, and we went with the latter.  The area we were headed to is called the DMZ, or demilitarized zone. Basically, on each side of the border there's a one mile buffer zone for extra protection, I guess.  Our bus pulled into a little town outside right outside the DMZ so we could register with the military.  We were greeted by soldiers and barbed wire and signs warning of land mines.  At certain random points, we were told not to take pictures.  Apparently, South Korea is afraid the pics will end up on Facebook, North Korea will see them, they'll get a strategic advantage, and then the nukes will come out.  Or something.  Anyway, the most interesting thing we saw at this stop was the exchange bridge.  After the Korean war, 50,000 POWs were traded on this bridge, crossing the border by train.  Across the way, there was an abandoned amusement park/carnival.  Because it's Korea, of course.

The POW bridge...

...and the carnival to its right.

       Next, we headed closer to enemy territory and down into the tunnels.  Even after there was a truce and the war ended, North Korea started digging tunnels under the DMZ, presumably preparing for the next attack.  South Korea found a couple and naturally asked, "Umm...what are you doing?"  North's response:  "We're digging for coal."  Then they painted the walls black to make it more convincing.    Pretty sure they weren't fooling anyone.  According to our tour guide,  30,000 men could get through the tunnels and cross the border in an hour.  And so far, only four tunnels have been found.  They think there are more than twenty out there.
       My own experience in the tunnel wasn't bad, but it wasn't great, either.  They're pretty utilitarian, so there's not much more room than necessary.  In most places, it's about five or six feet wide and six feet tall, which meant I got to repeatedly hit my head on the rocky roof.  Thankfully, they gave us all hard hats, and I did try to hunch my back to avoid getting too many concussions.  Still, every few steps there'd be a THUNK CRACK THUNK, my head against the ceiling.  But I was alright with it.  If you're not in some physical pain, you're not getting the full North Korean experience.

At the end of the tunnel. 

       After the tunnels, we headed up to an observatory where we could get more of a bird's eye view of the border.  It was a nice clear day, and from our vantage point, we could see everything in the area.  The coolest part was the North Korean ghost town.  Right on the edge of their territory, the North built up this fancy prop town, trying to convince Southerners to defect.  But all the buildings are uninhabited, and without windows or interior rooms.  They're essentially empty shells.  I looked through a pair of binoculars for a few minutes, and I didn't see a single person over there, and it was three in the afternoon.  Who knows?  Maybe they were taking siestas.       

The view

North Korean prop town.

   

  

North Korea on the left, South Korean on the right.

       Along the way to our next stop, we got the chance to shop at a few touristy places.  We were given more cryptic orders about not taking pictures while crossing bridges or when a soldier came on the bus.  At the tourist shop, we figured we needed to experience some more North Korean culture, and we decided the best way to do that was through their alcohol.  What kind of alcohol does the North make, you ask?  The kind with deer antlers shaved into it.  At the beginning of the bottle, it actually wasn't that bad.  But by the end of it, it started to taste a little bit musty and toxic.  Overall, I'd say it was kinda awful.
      Our last stop on the tour was the train station which connects the South to Pyongyang.  Needless to say, this place doesn't get much traffic.  But it did gave us a great chance to use our imaginations.  We bought tickets, and then walked through the gates (past armed soldiers, of course) and out onto the platform.  After a few minutes of waiting for a train that was never coming, we got bored and went onto the tracks.  Then we started posing in boy band photos.  Some soldiers yelled at us after a while, but I think they enjoyed the show.

Getting ready for the big trip to Pyongyang!     

The road to North Korea.  I think this sign says "stop."

The newest Kpop sensation, the Kimchi Bad Men.

        In the end, we headed away from the border and back towards Seoul.  No bombs had gone off, nobody was attacked, and there were no murders.  It wasn't quite the adrenaline rush I had hoped for, but I guess I have to take what I can get.  So was there ever a point that I feared for my life?  Only after drinking that North Korean alcohol.  Shit was terrible.

The Candy Man

        Parties are supposed to be fun.  You eat some food, grab a few drinks, and usually it's a pretty good time.  Of course, school parties are gonna be a little different than the ones you’d throw in your own home, but the general rules should still apply.  So this Halloween, I decided to give my classes a little taste of American culture (and a lot of candy) by hosting one of my own. I figured it’d be a harmless, semi-educational way to spend the day. What I failed to realize, though, is that going to a party and creating a party are two very different things.
        First, I had to plan the whole event.  I wanted to play a few games and I needed materials, which led to the most insanely complicated approval process ever.  I had to write out a lesson plan, which I showed to my assistant, which we then brought to the head teacher, who gave it to the administrative dept., who approved it and gave it back to the head teacher, who finally took me shopping.  Jesus.  I mentioned it to the kids about a week beforehand, and they seemed really excited, so that was good.  But on the day of the party, I realized they might’ve been too excited.  My first graders rushed through the door, but instead of the usual five or six, there were sixteen.  Word had gotten out about my plans, and the other kids wanted in.  Can’t blame them, I guess.
        Our school had some costumes in a supply cabinet, so we passed those out and let the kids get dressed up.  Since we couldn’t do trick or treating the traditional way, we had to get a little creative.  I had them line up at my desk, knock on it, and say the magic words.  And then I gave them a bunch of candy.  I have to say, they seemed pretty happy about the whole deal.  We ended up spending the better part of the next twenty minutes “trick or treating.”

        After that, I had them play the old “guess how many pieces of candy are in the jar?” game.  If there had been five or six kids, the game might’ve worked.  But with sixteen, it was a mess.  The first few kids wrote down their guesses, and then started running around the room wreaking havoc and stealing candy.  I went over to try to corral them, but that only caused more problems.  Back at the guessing jar, I saw that kids were writing down their guesses, and then pulling out handfuls of candy for the road.  By the time the last person got up to guess, they could’ve easily counted the remaining pieces.  Mostly because there were two left.

        Next, I brought them back to their desks for snacks and drinks.  Of course, they immediately swarmed me and started shouting out what flavor of juice they wanted.  By the time I’d filled a few glasses, the first kid would finish his drink and be begging for more.  Eventually, I convinced them all to sit down, and that made it a little less chaotic.  For the rest of the time, though, I basically ended up going around the class like a waiter, refilling glasses and handing out food.  I put on a classic short film— Mickey Mouse and the Sorceror’s Apprentice—and they all screamed like I’d just put Teletubbies on or something.  They absolutely hated it, which I still can’t believe.  MICKEY MOUSE IS TIMELESS, YOU LITTLE BRATS.

        The fifth and six graders were next, and big surprise, there were quite a few more students than usual.  We did the costume and candy thing again, as well a toilet paper mummy contest.  I thought it was pretty fun, if only because it kept them standing still for a little while. 

Everybody likes toilet paper.

Harry Potter teacher.  Wand: chopstick, 9 inches.

Some Halloween decorations we made for class.  These are my drawings...

And these are from the kids.  Some really talented artists.  

        By the time my last class rolled around (3^rd and 4^th), I was exhausted.  We went through the whole thing one more time, and by the end, I was just giving out handfuls of candy to the kids.  But I think it’s justifiable.  After all, it’s my job to introduce them to American concepts like "excess."  See, I’m teaching them culture.

        Once it was all over, I picked up the last few candy wrappers and scraps of toilet paper that littered the floor, and then I headed home. I walked through the door, collapsed on my bed, and went to sleep.   It had been a long day of work, although I have to admit that I managed to have a little bit of fun, too.  But at the moment, I just needed some time to recover.  Like after any good party, really.

Pilgrimage To Busan

        I’ve been working pretty hard these days.  Lesson planning, teaching, and finding edible food have combined to take up most of my time.  Sure, I’ve gone out of town almost every weekend, and maybe I’ve only worked a total of sixty hours so far…anyway, the point is that I’ve been feeling worn down.  Stressed.  Exhausted.  Basically, I needed a vacation.  And wouldn’t you know it, my prayers were answered in the form of Chuseok, or Korean Thanksgiving.  As a result of that, I got six straight days off school.  I’m telling you, life is rough out here.

        But before I could set out on another adventure, one of the other teachers came by my house and surprised me with a Chuseok gift on behalf of the school.  I wasn’t expecting anything at all, so I felt really grateful and honored.  The gift came in this nice briefcase-looking thing, and it was heavy.  I had no idea what was inside, but it looked pretty nice.  After I thanked the teacher, I went back into my room to open it.  Inside, I found…a dozen cans of tuna and a couple more cases of spam.  Umm…OK.  Apparently, my friends received such gifts as socks and a “lifetime supply of seaweed.”  I’m not even gonna pretend to understand Korean culture.

        Anyway, after I put the gift away, I headed out to meet some of the guys in Busan.  Busan is the 2^nd biggest city in Korea, so it’s kind of metropolitan.  But it also has beaches, and that gives it more of a laid-back vibe than somewhere like Seoul.  As the great philosopher M. Cyrus pointed out, you get the best of both worlds.  It definitely seemed like my kind of place.  Once we all got there and met up, we headed to the beach to find a hotel close by.  In total, there were 7 guys in our group.  Here’s how the conversation went:

        “You think we can fit seven people in a hotel room?”

        “Of course.”

        And so we all crammed into a single hotel room, which had one queen sized bed and a bunch of sleeping mats covering the floor.  It went about as well as you would expect.  We dragged sand back from the beach every day.  We made a mess.  There was lots of snoring.  The bathroom…oh god, the bathroom.  I would say the place smelled like a locker room, but that would be an insult to locker rooms everywhere.  The best part is, over the course of the four days we were there, the cleaning lady never set foot in the room.  She must’ve just taken one look in there and thought, “Nope.  I’d rather quit.”  We were abandoned, left to wallow in our own filth.  It was pretty great.

View from the hotel room.  Trust me, you don't want to see the inside.

At the beach

        Anyway, what’d we do with all our free time?  Most days we hung out at the beach for a while and went swimming in the sea.  One day, we went hiking up a hill to get a view of Busan, and I have to say, this was the one view that was absolutely worth it (you can’t really tell in pictures, though).  On the way back down, we ran into some older Korean ladies, who immediately took a liking to me.  My friends (being the nice guys that they are) sped up, leaving me stranded with a trio of grandmas.

        “English-ee?” they asked me.

        “Yeah, English teacher.  English san-sang-neem.”

        “Ahhh!” they all screamed happily.  “How old?”

        “Umm…23,” I said.  They didn’t really get it, so I showed them on my hands. 

        “Oh, good!” said one of them.  Then she pointed at herself.

        “How old are you?” I said.

        She nodded.

        Honestly, she looked about sixty, but I knew how to handle this situation.  I went ahead and said, “35?” and held up the fingers to show them.

        All three of them cracked up.  They thought I was hilarious.  Then suddenly, the “35” year-old one started smacking me on the butt.  What the hell?!  I slid off to the side and tried to speed up. 

        “Englishee teacher!  Englishee teacher!” they all shouted.  They were waving for me to come back, too.

        “Sorry,” I said.  I pointed ahead.  “Have to go with friends.”

        Luckily, I was able to break away from them without any further groping.  I guess the lesson in all that is don’t give out compliments unless you really mean them.  Also, stay in large groups around older Korean women.

Busan from above.  I couldn't even fit the whole city in a single shot. 

        The next day, we ended up going to this rocky cliff/beach area, and that last lesson was strongly reinforced.  Along the beach, there was a giant row of these colorful little tent structures.  Out in front of them, there were a bunch of tubs filled with live seafood, which old women were trying to sell us.  They shouted and motioned for us to come closer, but we all said no thanks.  That is, except for one brave soul: my friend James.

        James is a hilarious British guy with a pretty vulgar sense of humor.  As he approached one of the ladies, he noticed that she had a bin full of some…phallically-shaped fish. 

        “How much for a penis fish?” he asked her.

        The lady just went on speaking in rapid-fire Korean. 

        “What if I buy two penis fishes?” he asked.  “Buy one, get one free?”

        Then, for just a moment, James turned to look back at us.  That ended up being his nearly-fatal mistake.  I have no idea what the old woman was thinking.  Maybe she was worried that she had lost his attention.  Maybe she wanted to mess with the foreigner.  Whatever the case was, for some reason she decided to pull out a live octopus from one of the tubs.  And then she held it right up to James’ face.  Judging by James’ reaction, she might as well have held up a hornet’s nest.  He booked it out of there.  He’s a pretty big guy, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a person move that fast.  It was priceless.  Thankfully, I had my camera out to capture the moment: 

Perfect.

        After we spent some time climbing around the rocks, we started getting hungry.  Inside the tents they had these mini-restaurants, so we decided to check one of those out.  Of course, after the earlier incident, we knew we had to go back and have dinner at that very same tent.  The guys all decided that they were gonna try the “live” octopus (more like very freshly murdered).  I chose not to, and I don’t really feel like I missed out.  The woman brought out a plate of tiny pieces of chopped-up octopus that were still squirming.  It looked pretty sick, but the guys all ate it.  The consensus: chewy and tasteless.  I’m not sure if the lady gave us the same octopus as before, but in the end, I feel like James got his revenge on the species.  

        Once they finished with the octopus, we all split a giant plate of scallops and mussels.  We got to bake the food in shells in the center of the table, and honestly, it was the best seafood I’ve ever had.  Fresh, tender, and it tasted delicious.  Even though there wasn’t a turkey or potatoes, I felt like this was a pretty reasonable substitute for a Thanksgiving feast, and I was lucky enough to be able to share it with some awesome people I’ve met in my time here.  It’s true- my home is thousands of miles away, and so are the people I’ve spent most of my life with.  But sitting around a table on the beach in Busan, watching the night fall…I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  I know what I’m thankful for.

Fantastic meal.

Back on the beach!

Busan at night.

       

Meet The Folks

        I used to have this dream where I was standing in front of a crowd and everyone was laughing at me.  I didn’t have any idea who the people were or what was so funny, but I knew it had something to do with me.  Before I could ever make sense of things, though, I’d always wake up.  At the time, I brushed it off as meaningless and unimportant.  Now, I’m starting to think it was a prophecy.
        A few days ago, we had parent-teacher conferences at our school.  I was kinda concerned about this because 1. I had no idea what to expect and 2. I knew almost nobody in my town spoke English.  So I went into the meeting room that night, and about thirty or forty parents were there, along with all the teachers.  The principal and VP started in on this giant lecture (all in Korean, of course), which meant I got to zone out for an hour.  But out of the blue, somebody started calling my name.  “No-AH.  No-AH.”  The head teacher motioned me up to the front.  I walked up to the little stage and stood right next to the VP.  She said something, and the entire crowd cracked up.  I stood there smiling and (I’m sure) looking incredibly uncomfortable.
        “No-AH.  Introduction,” said the head teacher.
        “Umm…” I said.  “My name’s Noah Pearlstone.  I am from America….I mean…USA.  This is my first time in Korea.  I’m very happy to be here.”  Everyone applauded, and then the VP said one more thing, and the whole crowd was laughing again.  I went back to my seat feeling pretty embarrassed.  Only later did I find out that she’d said, “We like Noah because he is tall and handsome.”
        The rest of the conference was a little on the uncomfortable side, too.  Some of the parents had students in my classes, so it was nice to meet them.  But the thing was, they'd always introduce themselves and then say their child's Korean name.  I had given all the kids English names on the first day (and never learned their Korean ones) so I had no idea who they were talking about.  Sample conversation:
        Other teacher: “This is Min Soo Kim’s parent.”
        Parent:  *smiles, waits*
        Me:  “Oh wow!  Very good student!  Very good!”
        And that scene repeated itself for the rest of the night.

        But what are the students actually like?  They’re wild and full of energy and they have two-second attention spans.  Basically, they’re just normal kids.  Teaching them has been challenging at times, but it’s always a lot of fun, too.  I have three classes: 1st and 2nd grade, 3rd and 4th, and 5th and 6th.  1st and 2nd know the alphabet and that’s pretty much it.  3-6th are all on about the same level- they have decent vocabularies, but they have no idea how to string sentences together.  I have a classroom assistant to help with the younger kids, but for the older ones I’m on my own.  At the beginning of the term, I also got to design my own curriculum and I make all my own lesson plans, so I can do whatever I want, more or less.  It’s actually a little bit more work, but it’s nice to have that freedom.
        I’ve also gotten to know some of the other people at my school outside of my classes.  There’s one other younger teacher here who can speak English, and he’s become my pretty good friend- we’ve gone out for dinner a bunch of times (often for pizza), and I’ll stop and talk to him when I see him at school.  Well, I guess his 3rd graders saw us talking and got curious about me, so they started asking him questions.  At some point, he must’ve mentioned that we ate pizza together, because the next day twenty-five 3rd graders swarmed me.  They had this crazed look in their eyes, too.
        “YOU LIKE PI-JA?!!” they all screamed.
        “Yes, yes, I like pizza.”
        “PI-JA!!!!!!!”
        “Yeah, pizza’s good.”
        “PI-JAAAAAAAA!!!”
        And then they ran away laughing and yelling.

My grade 1 and 2 students.   They're adorable.

My grades 5 and 6.  It's a little blurry because they're never standing still.

     
        After a month of teaching here, I still have only good things to say about my school, the people I've met, and my experience in general.  Like I told everyone at the conference, I’m just happy to be here.  It’s been like a dream come…
        Oh, give me a break.  I’m not that corny.

Easy On The Eyes

        Reading is hard.  You have to decode a language, process the information, and then (hopefully) find some meaning in it.  Honestly, it sounds terrible.  I'm getting a headache just thinking about it.  Now looking at pictures...that's a little bit easier.  So anyway, here are some of my favorite pictures from these past couple months that haven't made it into my other posts.  Of course, there'll be more words (and headaches!) coming soon.

This is Boseong, the land of green tea.

And here are the green tea fields.  No kidding, that's the first umbrella I've ever had.  

Watching from the woods.  Not creepy at all...

An old lady working the fields.

An old tractor working the fields.

I guess the point is there are lots of fields.

My classroom.  Smile, everybody!

You don't really see this in American schools.

In Jangheung, the closest city-ish place to me (forty minutes by bus).  Around fifty thousand people live here.

At the Jangheung market.  It was like three square blocks full of this.  I had no idea what I was doing there, and neither did this little girl.

The river that divides Jangheung.

And now we're in Seoul.  I think I was supposed to cross this street.  I chose to take a picture instead.

Seoul ice cream tower?

This is Wando, a small beach town in the south.  Met up with a bunch of my orientation group for a relaxing weekend.

We found a jellyfish!  Jellyfish look surprisingly disgusting.

Climbing a hill in Wando, on our way to a tower.

And here's the tower.  Fun fact: It's the 9th biggest building in the world.  OK, fine, it's actually only four stories tall.

                   

Take A Hike

        These past couple weeks have brought more typhoons, which has been mostly bad news for me.  Sure, I got to miss a day of school, but it also meant that at various times I’ve been without Internet, hot water, and power.  At first, I was just kinda bummed, but then I started thinking to myself- maybe it’s a sign.  Maybe this is some higher power’s way of telling me it’s time to get off my computer and start exploring Korea again.  It’s time to return to nature.  It’s time to go hiking.
        The thing is, I’m not exactly an “outdoorsy” person.  I’m happy to go out for a jog or something, but you won’t find me huddled around a campfire cooking a can of baked beans.  That’s because camping sounds like an activity for a homeless person.  Hiking is also something I would expect homeless people to do.  But me?  Probably not.  On the rare occasions that I have gone, I always have these nagging thoughts in my head: We’re climbing up just so we can go back down.  This makes no sense.  My legs hurt.  I’m hungry.  I’m tired.  It’s basically that on repeat.  So then what's the real reason I've gone hiking these past two weeks?  Because all my friends were doing it, of course.
        The first hike we went on was at a Buddhist temple outside Gwangju.  About five of us were there, and the first thing we noticed was how the Koreans were dressed.  They all have these bright neon hiking outfits, and they have enough gear with them to climb Everest.  I showed up in a t-shirt and shorts.  Anyway, we started climbing, and it wasn’t too bad.  We stopped about ten minutes in when we came to a stream, and decided to wade in.  It was only about 70° outside (21°C for all you foreigners!) so the water was pretty chilly.  The water also happened to be moving very fast, which meant I had about 6,000 instances of losing my balance and nearly getting swept away.  It was fun.

Trying not to die while also taking a picture.  Multitasking!  

        The Buddhist temple was about another fifteen minutes up, which wasn’t too bad either.  The temple was...alright.  The place had been burned down about twenty different times over history, so I think most of it was a reconstruction.  Just from looking at it, I could tell a lot of it wasn’t authentic.  I watch Pawn Stars, so I know a fake when I see it.

Outside the temple

And inside

        Anyhow, hike number two was in the city of Boseong.  Boseong is a smaller place, about 50,000 people, and it’s famous for green tea.  So this time we got a group of around ten to go hiking at some mountain.  And let me tell you, this was not our little half-hour Buddhist temple hike.  This was the Trail of Tears at a 45° angle.  Thanks to all that typhooning, the ground was also smooth and slick, which made it almost impossible to get a foothold.  About thirty minutes in, we passed by some Koreans who were stumbling down the mountain.  They said something to us, and a girl in our group who spoke Korean translated.  “One more hour to the top.  Very difficult.”  I’m pretty sure I started crying right then and there.
        And yet, we climbed on.  Eventually, I found a hiking stick (also known as a tree branch) and that helped quite a bit.  Still, I was pouring sweat, and we had to take a break about every ten minutes.  Our group ended up splitting in two, and I stuck with the slow group.  Finally, after what felt like a century, our group made it to the top.  I pulled out my camera and started taking pictures.
        “Wait,” someone said.  “Where’s everybody else?”
        “Look, they’re up there.”
        We looked over to see that the fast group was way higher and way up ahead, scaling some rock face.  So this wasn’t the top after all.
        “Do you want to keep going?” someone asked.
        It took me about 1/100th of a second before I said, “No.”  One other reasonable person agreed with me.  If I wanted to go any higher, I’d rent a freaking airplane.

        The way down was just as treacherous.  I was basically swinging from tree to tree and praying I wouldn’t fall.  I kept taking these really awkward steps which resulted in me rolling my ankle, stumbling, and catching myself.  If having good balance is being able to recover before you fall, then I have great balance.  Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that’s not the definition.
        In the end, I only fell once (on my butt, so it didn’t hurt) and had one really bad stumble where I hurt my knee and ankle.  Any time you can describe a weekend by saying, “Well, at least I didn’t get seriously injured,” you know you had a good time.
        Our third and final hike took place at the green tea fields.  That’s what Boseong’s famous for, so we figured we had to check it out.  The crops are on hills in rows and rows that wrap around the landscape.  I have to say, it looks really awesome.  Hiking it?  Not so awesome.
        It was a rainy day to begin with, but the second we started going up, it turned into a torrential downpour.  It wasn’t so much of a hike as a walk-up-a-thousand-steps, but the result was pretty much the same- I was exhausted.  This time, though, I actually made it to the top.

Tea fields

Getting higher

At the top!

        After that, we headed inside for some lunch (green tea noodles, which were delicious) followed by a little tea party.  I’m not sure I’ve ever had green tea before, and it wasn’t bad.  I had some green tea ice cream to top it all off, which I’d describe as strangely decent.  Soon enough, it was time to leave and go back to my city.   I had to start the recovery process, after all.

A few more pics from the weekend.  Boseong at night.

        Now, I’m back in the peace and quiet of my own home.  So what have I taken away from all my hiking adventures?  Have I been transformed into an outdoorsman?  Did I gain a new appreciation for nature?  Not really.  I’m just glad the power’s back on.