I've been on the road for almost two solid months. Kind of. I fit work in wherever I can, but it's more of a burden than a passion at this point. Well, until about three days ago, that is. I had an awakening of sorts on Tuesday. No glowing angels. No pervasive sun beams penetrating my third eye, but just an active decision to shed my woes and press forward. These aforementioned woes are mainly responsible my blogging lapse. I'd prefer to not go into it. I'd like not to immortalize my follies in prose. Too many people are watching. I've toured everywhere from Seoul to Busan (sea to shining sea, if you will, for you American types). I should accompany this post with photos of my travels, but some things take too much effort. Let's kick this old school.
One thing worth mentioning is this bookstore I found in Seoul. Let me back up for a second. After about a month and a half of the road, I was haggard and weary and ready for a break. I met this guy at Native Teachers' Orientation (which really isn't newsworthy on its own, but it's aiding this story) who had been in the country for as long as I had and I hadn't really met any foreigners thus far. It was his birthday last weekend and I decided to show him a good time in Seoul. We went to the foreigner Promised Land, Itaewon, which--legend has it--is controlled by the Russian mob and is sort of a seedy place to be on a Saturday night. It was a Saturday night and I was looking to test my luck. Andrew, 1. Unfortunate happenstance, 0. We hit the street after a grueling bus ride and a 30 minute, standing-room-only subway trip. Fair enough. I had had a long week at the office and didn't really have the time or energy to research reputable hotels. We (and by we, I mean me--He left our travel plans to my whims and incidentally, things turned out okay.) checked in to the local bathhouse for a one night stay in the dingy underbelly of Seoul. Wait, I got off-topic. I was talking about a bookstore. Whatever, this might be more riveting. We pet some deer in Seoul Forest (which translates to Seoul Soop: I found this funny.) and we saw a Buddhist temple that was advertised as one hundred percent gold, but once we arrived and saw the gold leaf flaking off of the pine columns, we thought differently. To keep the integrity of this paragraph- There is a bookstore in the COEX mall, which is this gargantuan underground shopping center, that has a slough of English books and I bought "The Omnivore's Dilemma." I had wanted to read it for a while and it was a worthy excuse to blow some Won. I have no regrets.
I am a full blown superhero. I started working at the local girls middle school and whenever I walk into a room, I hear the screech of female preteens. Really; it's deafening. Maybe I'm more of a rockstar. Yeah, that might be more accurate, given that I don't possess any supernatural powers or latently placed pyrotechnics. A swarm of fans shadow me down the hallways, beseeching high fives, my name, my age, and shockingly, my bloodtype. This is a big deal in Korea. Bloodtypes. Who knew?
I found a place that sells Cuban cigars. Thumbs way up. For interested parties: I got a Romeo y Julieta Churchill, a Cohiba Siglo II, and a Punch Petit Coronation. A starter kit, at best.
I'm signing off for now. I'll try to keep these more frequent.
Footnote: I just found my lost blog and perhaps this would have made for a better intro. There are some redundancies here, so look past them and enjoy the train:
"My negligence is inexcusable. I've been away from this keyboard for nearly three weeks now, but I can't say that it was because I didn't have time and I can't say that it was because I had nothing to write about. I've been on the road. I've been out in the God's grey, concrete wilderness and I've drank the local drink, danced to the local beat, and arrived in a constant state of departure. This was my charge over the past month: Travel, Travel, Travel until the blisters on my feet begin to bleed. I'm weary as hell; so, I suppose my goal was realized. I have a headache the size of Montana and my head is all battered with mental images of friends and temples and bathhouses and hustled city folk. It really wouldn't make for a good read if I recounted every mishap and spectacle of my time away, but I'll do my best to humor you with a few.
I'll start with the most recent and relevant event. I'm pounding out this letter from a moving train on its way home from Seoul. See, I took this bloke Jerry (whom I met at orientation, which by the way, was a colossal waste of time) out for his birthday, on account of the fact that this would be his first birthday alone. I was happy to do it and it gave me an excuse to go back up to Seoul. We stayed in Itaewon (the foreigner district), ate steak at Outback Steakhouse, spent the night a jimjalbang (bathhouse [It isn't as creepy as it seems.]) and toured Seoul Forest and a Buddhist temple made of a hundred percent gold. Opulence. I realized later that this was my first proper steak in a good six to seven years. I didn't dwell on it; I didn't want to think about the life I'd took. Bless my bleeding heart. I also found a proper pub--you know, the kind where you can play pool, darts, drink Guinness from the tap and meet your mates after a rough week in your little cardboard prison to remember that you still are human and that there is some animal left in your cardboard cut out body."
That's as far as I got.
That's as far as I got.
