Someone remind me how wonderful this is
6PM, Friday, August 3. The bus journey continues. I’m trying – really I am, somewhere deep down in my heart – to focus on the gift of this wonderful opportunity. But ungrateful, internal whining keeps rearing its ugly head. I realized today that I haven’t spent the last week traveling, per se. Instead I was comfortably ensconced in the Beloved Vabien, nurtured and protected, and thus kept in good enough shape to find our forays around Seoul exciting.
But today is devoted to the actual act of traveling. First there was the unpleasant act of packing, as I attempted to anticipate my needs for the next four days. Then the torturous travel by bus, reigniting my PTSD resulting from the sardine-can trauma of my recent trip via bus to Washington, DC. But to add insult to injury, we are now being “handled” by a different organization than has been the case for the past week. The prior guides treated us like competent adults. An oh-so-charming woman, who wishes to explain every little minute detail to us, is hosting this four-day excursion. Examples of the information she feels compelled to talk about ad infinitum include the comparative lengths of the rivers we pass along the way; the translation of Korean word after Korean word that only tangentially comes across our path and such insightful comments such as, "Those are Koreans swimming in the river. Now you see them swimming. They love the water. You can take a picture of the Koreans swimming if you want" (don't laugh, I think someone just snapped the shot).
I saw a Seinfeld episode last night (back when life was good, at the Beloved Vabien) in which Jerry is assigned a assistant who attempts to give him the best of care by going over EVERY, SINGLE detail with him. Like, “Jerry, now I see you got your coffee. That’s just wonderful. I want you to know that I checked and they also have decaf available, with sugar or cream if you want it, or sugar AND cream.” I paraphrase, but you get the idea.
(Really, our hostess is sincerely nice, caring and helpful, but that doesn’t make it all any less irritating.)
The tipping point occurred when she chose to wake us upon arriving at a stop with blaring heavy metal music. Korean heavy metal. Unforgivable.
And then the other shoe dropped: she told us that we’d been assigned roommates for these four days – no more blissful isolation for me to recharge my batteries. Now I know why Koreans have this theme of Han (pain, suffering) running through their music and theater.
I don’t want to end my post on such a down note, nor do I choose to continue complaining (trust me, my friends, the list is long), so I’ll try to name five sincerely-felt positive things about today, in honor of Wandering Angie, the queen of optimism.
1) Our lunch stop was interesting. It was the first time we’ve had Korean “barbecue” on this trip. Pretty good stuff.
2) Hostess woman played an unexpectedly engrossing Korean film. It was three parts Shakespeare plus one part Tony Soprano. Power, passion, violence, Oedipal issues, cross-dressing, and memorable lines far too explicit for this student-friendly blog.
3) We had two afternoon stops; both were good so I’ll break them into two different entries (especially as I’m worried about getting to five). First we went to a secluded and very old Confucian school called Byeongsan Seowon (pics here, but these were taken in a season when it wasn't the lush green paradise we saw today; info here). Though a national treasure notable enough to have been visited by George H. W. and Barbara Bush, it’s a bit off the beaten path – even the road leading up to the school isn’t paved. Once there the lush beauty of the landscape, both natural and planned, was enough to at least somewhat overshadow the heat index (not another word about that, lest I fall back toward complaining, and frankly though I’m no stoic I don’t think complaining about the weather is worth the breath it takes, so I especially don’t want to step into that trap). The buildings emanated a palpable serenity and wisdom. It’s the sort of place where I’d love to sit quietly alone.
4) And the second stop was also reasonably groovy. Andong Hahoe Village has survived the foreign incursions and wars of the last several hundred years, so its architecture has remained unchanged. And real people still live there. So that’s pretty cool. But almost as interesting is the commercialization that has grown up around and in the midst of these ancient roads, walls and buildings. It’s basically one souvenir stand after another, some selling quality goods and some… not so much. Part of me is used to reacting against tourist traps – I haven’t been to Shipshewana in years, for example – but I was comforted that though such a noteworthy site had been polluted, as it were, at least it was a trap for Koreans – not Americans. Almost none of the signs were in English, nor did the proprietors appear to know English. Clearly most of their clientele is Korean. So at least in that sense I was getting an authentic Korean experience.
5) Uh oh. I has optimistically planned that surely the pair behind me who hasn’t stopped talking for the ENTIRE TRIP would settle down to nap, so I could celebrate their silence as my number five, but they are still going strong. (Full disclosure: each of them is really pretty cool, definitely two of the people I’m most likely to maintain contact with, so this isn’t personal. I’m just ready to be free of their banter for a few precious moments of peace.) I tried putting in earplugs, but those actually seem to make it worse by filtering out the ambient noise. Am I still stuck here on number five? Shoot. OMG, they just started talking about famous leaders who had venereal disease. I wonder if I could break out this window and jump for it?
Sorry folks, no number five. Other than that I can’t wait to get home in five days. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll have Internet access in my shared room tonight. Otherwise the next three days are going to be very long. Oh, wait! – good thought, this could be a belated number five – in four days I get to go see the DMZ. That’s something I’ve been excited about for a while.
Well, time for Cowells to shut up.
next post
But today is devoted to the actual act of traveling. First there was the unpleasant act of packing, as I attempted to anticipate my needs for the next four days. Then the torturous travel by bus, reigniting my PTSD resulting from the sardine-can trauma of my recent trip via bus to Washington, DC. But to add insult to injury, we are now being “handled” by a different organization than has been the case for the past week. The prior guides treated us like competent adults. An oh-so-charming woman, who wishes to explain every little minute detail to us, is hosting this four-day excursion. Examples of the information she feels compelled to talk about ad infinitum include the comparative lengths of the rivers we pass along the way; the translation of Korean word after Korean word that only tangentially comes across our path and such insightful comments such as, "Those are Koreans swimming in the river. Now you see them swimming. They love the water. You can take a picture of the Koreans swimming if you want" (don't laugh, I think someone just snapped the shot).
I saw a Seinfeld episode last night (back when life was good, at the Beloved Vabien) in which Jerry is assigned a assistant who attempts to give him the best of care by going over EVERY, SINGLE detail with him. Like, “Jerry, now I see you got your coffee. That’s just wonderful. I want you to know that I checked and they also have decaf available, with sugar or cream if you want it, or sugar AND cream.” I paraphrase, but you get the idea.
(Really, our hostess is sincerely nice, caring and helpful, but that doesn’t make it all any less irritating.)
The tipping point occurred when she chose to wake us upon arriving at a stop with blaring heavy metal music. Korean heavy metal. Unforgivable.
And then the other shoe dropped: she told us that we’d been assigned roommates for these four days – no more blissful isolation for me to recharge my batteries. Now I know why Koreans have this theme of Han (pain, suffering) running through their music and theater.
I don’t want to end my post on such a down note, nor do I choose to continue complaining (trust me, my friends, the list is long), so I’ll try to name five sincerely-felt positive things about today, in honor of Wandering Angie, the queen of optimism.
1) Our lunch stop was interesting. It was the first time we’ve had Korean “barbecue” on this trip. Pretty good stuff.
2) Hostess woman played an unexpectedly engrossing Korean film. It was three parts Shakespeare plus one part Tony Soprano. Power, passion, violence, Oedipal issues, cross-dressing, and memorable lines far too explicit for this student-friendly blog.
3) We had two afternoon stops; both were good so I’ll break them into two different entries (especially as I’m worried about getting to five). First we went to a secluded and very old Confucian school called Byeongsan Seowon (pics here, but these were taken in a season when it wasn't the lush green paradise we saw today; info here). Though a national treasure notable enough to have been visited by George H. W. and Barbara Bush, it’s a bit off the beaten path – even the road leading up to the school isn’t paved. Once there the lush beauty of the landscape, both natural and planned, was enough to at least somewhat overshadow the heat index (not another word about that, lest I fall back toward complaining, and frankly though I’m no stoic I don’t think complaining about the weather is worth the breath it takes, so I especially don’t want to step into that trap). The buildings emanated a palpable serenity and wisdom. It’s the sort of place where I’d love to sit quietly alone.
4) And the second stop was also reasonably groovy. Andong Hahoe Village has survived the foreign incursions and wars of the last several hundred years, so its architecture has remained unchanged. And real people still live there. So that’s pretty cool. But almost as interesting is the commercialization that has grown up around and in the midst of these ancient roads, walls and buildings. It’s basically one souvenir stand after another, some selling quality goods and some… not so much. Part of me is used to reacting against tourist traps – I haven’t been to Shipshewana in years, for example – but I was comforted that though such a noteworthy site had been polluted, as it were, at least it was a trap for Koreans – not Americans. Almost none of the signs were in English, nor did the proprietors appear to know English. Clearly most of their clientele is Korean. So at least in that sense I was getting an authentic Korean experience.
5) Uh oh. I has optimistically planned that surely the pair behind me who hasn’t stopped talking for the ENTIRE TRIP would settle down to nap, so I could celebrate their silence as my number five, but they are still going strong. (Full disclosure: each of them is really pretty cool, definitely two of the people I’m most likely to maintain contact with, so this isn’t personal. I’m just ready to be free of their banter for a few precious moments of peace.) I tried putting in earplugs, but those actually seem to make it worse by filtering out the ambient noise. Am I still stuck here on number five? Shoot. OMG, they just started talking about famous leaders who had venereal disease. I wonder if I could break out this window and jump for it?
Sorry folks, no number five. Other than that I can’t wait to get home in five days. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll have Internet access in my shared room tonight. Otherwise the next three days are going to be very long. Oh, wait! – good thought, this could be a belated number five – in four days I get to go see the DMZ. That’s something I’ve been excited about for a while.
Well, time for Cowells to shut up.
next post
posted by Cowells at 4:18 PM
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