Love Nests for Everyone

My apologies for slacking on the blogging. Ten months here has turned the extraordinary into the ordinary and I doubt anyone wants to read about my dog loving, spinach eating, Glee obsessed life. With that said, the last few months have passed without much incident. It got cold, really cold. Frodo, aka Mung Mung, spent some time in a cone looking like a confused baby seal. Aaron and I continue to thrive in our shoebox apartment, eating well, working out, and becoming true "adults". A crazy night for me these days consists of two glasses of moscato and a Glee sing-a-long.

Frodo aka Mung Mung

Our Hollywood Kids performed Cinderella for their parents and Aaron and I gushed over their perfectly executed lines and adorable costumes. Here are some pictures of the derps.

Luna, Sarah, Ruby

Ben, Jack, Dan, Colin

Chris

My favorite, Kate

Hollywood Kids

We were lucky enough to be invited to a Korean wedding this past weekend, and the experience still managed to wow me ten months into this kimchi eating life. My co-teacher, Sarah's, brother (whom we had never met prior to this) was the groom and Sarah thought it imperative that we observe a Korean style wedding. The first thing you must know is these weddings occur in special wedding halls located all over town. It is like a factory production, weddings move through the halls every hour with demanding guests pouring into the waiting room as the previous wedding is still in progress. Upon entering the hall, Aaron and I became an immediate spectacle (as usual): "behold the white people." We nervously twittered around searching the sea of similar faces for the one single person we knew. Finally Sarah appeared and ushered us into a sauna-like room with the bride as a centerpiece. Acres of lace and frills cascaded over a velvet bench as crystal chandeliers offered explosions of rainbows with each flash of the camera. Aaron and I awkwardly arranged ourselves around the beautiful bride (who had no clue who we were) and forced grimace like smiles with many curious eyes questioning our invitations.

After our impromptu photo shoot we were thankfully ushed into chairs in the wedding hall. A slate velvet runner covered a raised walkway leading to the pulpit. Garish fake white rose, sparkling in what I assume was meant to be a "winterwonderland touch" lined the marital path. The ceremony began unobtrusively with a large percent of the congregation still murmuring amongst themselves. This droning did not cease once during the ordeal. The mothers of the bride and groom lead the procession. Clad in hanbok (traditional Korean outfits) they passed under crossed swords (seriously) and each lit a candle to symbolize the joining of the families. The groom followed suite in a white tux complete with lace white gloves, an outfit spectacular enough to make Michael Jackson sigh with envy from his grave (too soon?). Next came the bride. Her mountainous dress came with its own personal assistant who skittered behind the bride, making adjustments to the river of cloth as necessary.

Bad lighting, cool experience.

THE SWORDS!

 

At this point I am afraid I don't have much to say as the next 30 minutes were conducted in Korean. I did notice the impersonal feel as friends and family, dressed in blue jeans and hoodies, continued to talk through it all. There were some prayers and some vows and a cake was wheeled onto the stage to be sliced with a sword (seriously, I don't get the swords). The best man entered dressed as Psy and danced to Party Rocker, further confusing me. I have to admit that I get choked up during all weddings (including the ones I watch on TV) and my moment came at the end of the ceremony when the newly married couple bowed to each set of parents respectively; they went first to their knees and then to kiss their parents' feet. My mom is getting ideas for my future.

Without much warning the bride and groom walked down the velvet runner and were showered in snakes of confetti and fake snow. The wedding guests for the 12:00 wedding were already pushing their way in through the doors and we followed the rush to the reception. Due to the mass production of weddings, the reception hall was a communal buffet complete with far too much good Korean food. Four plates of salmon, sushi, mandoo, noodles, fried pork, rice cakes, etc. later Aaron and I rolled ourselves home.

As for the rest of my life, it goes like this. Today is Christmas and I am sipping gingerbread tea, listening to City and Colour while my man is in the kitchen making chicken burritos for us. Last night was spent amongst best friends in a love nest known as Damyang. Katie, Danielle, Pete, Aaron, Frodo, and I snacked on falafel, pumpkin soup, hummus, salad, and chocolate until we couldn't move. We then piled ourselves into the love nest on the floor complete with heating pads and a plethora of blankets and pillows. A ridiculous photo shoot (hey, this is Korea after all) and Home Alone 2 followed. Maybe there was no ham or Christmas pudding, maybe it was my first Christmas away from my family, maybe it was blessedly random, but mostly it was a Christmas to remember.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas crackers

Love nest

Fall in Gwangju

I have always been a big fan of fall. The crisp mornings, explosions of colors, and ubiquitous cups of tea have me wishing that fall wasn't a harbinger of winter. This fall has been especially pleasant, despite the lack of delicious pumpkin drinks i.e. beer and Starbucks lattes.

October started off with Chuseok, the Korean thanksgiving holiday. We were thankful to have a Monday and a Wednesday off (usually people have the Tuesday off but our boss is not exactly one for mercy). Our friend Stephanie (whom we had met in Jeju this summer) came down from Seoul to visit. We drank magkeolli (SURPRISE!) and filled our heads with dreams of future travels.

Much time (and money) was spent at Tequilaz, the only place in town where one can indulge in Americanized-Mexican food, aka heaven. Most Sundays we found ourselves lounging in a park located in the middle of downtown. Once we were even lucky enough to find ourselves picnicking on Nepalese food inside a teepee, we are so cultured.

Park days

Teepee

 I was finally released from my prison of crutches and celebrated my new found freedom by hiking the mountain. Mudeung Mountain is apparently known as the guardian mountain of Gwangju and I have been itching to hike it since we arrived. When I received an invite to hike early in order to summit by dawn, I was ecstatic. The alarm went off at 2:10am and Aaron and I briefly considered backing out as our warm bed held more appeal than any exercise at that moment. Thankfully we rallied and found our way to the base of the mountain where we were pleasantly surprised to find 15 other people crazy enough to embark on this mission. Armed with headlamps and anticipation we started the trek, it was 3:30am. Please excuse my everlasting supply of "magical moments from Korea" BUT this one tops them all. We had just stopped to rest after tackling a brutal section of stairs (Korean hiking is weird) and were all busy peeling off sweaty layers when a sound rang out through the darkness. A traditional Korean drum echoed through the valleys, the clean notes reverberating their plea for the monks to rise. A temple hidden from view came to life as the ancient music silenced our group. We listened in awe and I couldn't help but feel as if I was trespassing on this moment, so mundane for the monks, yet so profound for me. Finally we stirred from the trance and continued our dark trek up the mountain. A few hours (and sore muscles) later we reached the summit. I was almost drunk from the rush and exertion. Many pictures were snapped of us proudly "conquering" the mountain before we all sat down to witness the motivation for the endeavour. A cheer went up as the sun peaked the mountains, gold light spilling onto the ocean of mist that settled in the valleys. Grey turned into gold which morphed into pink and too soon we were awash in the light of day. The romp down the mountain was full of jubilant shrieks as the colors of fall revealed themselves all around us. I have never experienced such natural beauty. Surrounded by autumn's hues with good friends at my side I took a deep breath and willed myself to remember this journey forever.

Darkness

The summit

Waiting for the sun to come

My babe

Too pretty

Autumn sluts

The following day Katie, Mara, and I made our way to Boseong, the home of the green tea fields. Many hours were spent wandering around one of Korea's thousand festivals, drinking, laughing, and making life decisions in a magkeolli tent. I was lucky enough to try my hand at pottery and admit that I should keep my day job. A lunch of bibimbap, arguably my favorite Korean dish, followed. The three of us decided to head to the green tea fields only to be deterred at the idea of more walking on our already tired stems. We settled for a green tea ice-cream and headed to a bath house. I was fortunate enough to experience my first full-body scrub by a half naked ajjuma. I climbed onto the massage table with a feigned air of confidence, as naked as can be. Thankfully I paid extra for a cucumber face mask so within 5 minutes I found my head completely secured in a towel. After a brief moment of panic, I relaxed and appreciated the sense of security my towel provided. I could no longer see the black lace undies of my ajjuma, nor the 2 other naked souls having their skin ripped apart; I was at peace. That moment of calm did not last long as the first bit of scrubbing commenced. For a kind, old lady, this broad packed much stronger muscles than expected. She was so disgusted by my previously un-scrubbed body that she made me touch the dead skin as it came off in unbelievable amounts. For the next 30 minutes my only mission was to stay put on the impossibly slippery table and attempt to enjoy this cultural experience. Naturally, I loved it.

Magkeolli tent

Katie

Love these two

Green Tea Fields

Making pottery

Bibimbap

 The best part about fall, however, was the acquisition of this little gentleman. His name is Mung Mung and he will be accompanying us back to the states at the end of April.

10 Things I Love About South Korea

I could probably go on for hours about all of the things that I love about South Korea. This country has amazed me in ways I never thought possible. When I decided to embark on this adventure I had no idea what wonders were in store for me. I will try to do this remarkable place some justice with a short list of things I love.

1) The People: This category contains Koreans and foreigners alike. I have been overwhelmed with love for the people I have met here. Strangers on buses and in the subway have stopped to help us enough times for me to think that kindness still exists in the world. Waiters/waitresses/shop clerks etc. have gone out of their way to offer a smile and patient understanding while we mime our way through their country. The foreigners I have met can't even adequately be described, but seeing how this is my blog I will try to do so... beautiful, open, caring, loving, cultured, hilarious, wild, but mostly enigmatic. Three girls in particular have wormed their way into my heart and I know I will be meeting them around the world for years to come. Mara, Katie, and Danielle, thank you for everything, I shudder at the thought of saying goodbye. The sense of community among foreigners is strong enough for me to happily consider some of these weirdos my family.


2) The Food and Drinks: Imagine taking the fattest piece of bacon you can find and BBQing it on a grill located in the middle of your table. Now add homemade sides of kimchi, vegetables, and rice all washed down with a drink potent enough to knock you over which only costs $1... HEAVEN. Korean meals are an experience worth having. It is customary to remove your shoes at the entrance to the restaurant and then sit on floor pillows with your legs tucked under a table seemingly crafted for 3 year olds. As the Soju begins to flow you find yourself grateful to be solidly planted on the floor, as the clear, almost flavorless drink packs a powerful punch. Food is served family style with each person receiving his/her own pot of rice (usually served in a stone bowl that stays dangerously hot) and a multitude of sides scattered throughout the table. The meat sizzles right under your nose, and the smell creates a temptation which is almost to much to bear. Anther favorite: makgeolli. I can't even think about makgeolli without wanted to reach for the nearest bottle. Who knew that Korean rice wine would be so delicious. A hint for the amateurs; add a splash of Denmark drinking yogurt (another favorite edible) and enjoy a milkshake that gets you pleasantly tipsy. Other favorite treats here include kimbab triangles (a triangle of tuna/bbq chicken/mystery meat wrapped in rice, covered in seaweed), kimchi, mandu (like potstickers but better), bibimbap (fancy fried rice), and walnut balls. I could go on for pages about the food here but I will refrain.

 3) The Shopping: There once was a time when I went to France and came home with an entire extra suitcase of clothes I had acquired. This time I am looking at three extra. THE CLOTHES! THE SHOES! Sorry to any male readers of this blog, you might as well skip ahead to the next section. Downtown Gwangju is a labyrinth of twisting alleyways all jammed full of shoe/clothing/accessory boutiques. It is a girl's dream come true. I have to admit that shopping is not always fun here for two reasons; Koreans are generally tiny people who have no butts, making pant shopping impossible for those of us with curves,  AND the fitting rooms are generally no bigger than a linen closet without mirrors. Put those two things together and it can make for one hell of an experience. I almost got stuck trying on a pair of too-tight jeans in the cardboard box marked as a dressing room. Self esteem killing aside, the shopping here is to die for. Aaron usually grabs my hand and runs me through downtown to stop me from straying into a shop and expanding my closet even more.

4) Being a Waygook (outsider): Being an outsider is fun for a myriad of reasons. The first being that for whatever reason Koreans find white people very attractive. Random Koreans on the street, generally old ladies often stop me to tell me how beautiful I am. My children chant "Kerryn teacher beautiful" on a weekly basis. I am not one for vanity, but damn, it feels good to walk around like a movie star every once in awhile.

5) Jjimjilbangs: I have briefly touched on these before but as with most things here, I feel like it is impossible to do them justice with words. I would try to photo document them but taking a camera into a room full of 200+ naked Korean women might not go over so well. Naked bodies, fierce scrubbing, saunas, hot rocks, heat lamps, scalding pools, ice water, and all for under $10. I recently discovered that you can pay extra to have a scantily clad ajjuma remove dead (and live) skin from your body using a force that contradicts her age and stature. Flopping around on a massage table, nude as can be, with an ajjuma peeling the dead skin from my bum, I found happiness (again). The spas are part of the culture here. People of every age come to find comfort and relaxation amongst each other. We need these in America.

6) Festivals: There seems to be a festival each time a leaf falls from a tree or an ajjuma pushes someone out of her way. White tents sprout up, music starts blaring, and the makgeolli starts flowing. There is food everywhere and smells assault you at each corner (some good, some not so good). There is always a stage with karaoke, taekwando, or traditional dancing, the music blaring so loud it's disorienting. Festivals are an intriguing amalgamation of new and old. The elders wander around, losing themselves in the music of their childhood while teens hide behind their phones and tablets. Festivals are the next best place to people watch (after airports, of course) and I am usually most content with a bowl (yes, bowl) of makgeolli in hand, good friends at my side, and a view of the event.

7) Norebongs: Private karaoke rooms complete with mics, disco lights, and cheap booze. What more could you ask for? Generally a stop late at night once everyone has thoroughly lost any sense of dignity, norebongs can get slightly out of hand. Spice Girls, Toto, Creed (shudders), you name it, and people will sing it. We all suffer from the misconception that inebriation turn us all into tune-carrying-Adeles. It may not sound pretty, but norebongs (and norebusses) are the creators of some of my fondest memories.

8) The Scenery: Before I came to Korea, I honestly had no idea what to expect in terms of scenery. I had conflicting images of Tokyo-type cities sprawling with their neon lights to small stone dwellings with a trickle of smoke coming from the chimney. I did not ever imagine the two ideas coexisting while being cradled by green mountains. The mountains! Every small trip out of the city brings a reminder that I am nestled in a valley in this geographically turbulent country. Coming from Reno I find the mountains to be a source of comfort and familiarity. I was lucky enough to hike Mudeungsan (a popular mountain in Gwangju) early in the morning to watch the sunrise. Rivers of fog enveloped the world with only the peaks being bold enough to show themselves. As the sun rose, the fog dissipated and I was standing on top of the world looking out over infinite mountains and their valleys. Each season brings a new wave of colors, smells, and emotions. April brought the cherry blossoms, their soft petals covering the city like snowfall. With summer came the vivid greens, and now fall has turned South Korea into a world usually reserved for paintings. 

9) My Nerds: I realize that all of my photos, rantings, and blogs are usually about what takes place on the weekend. I should remind everyone that yes, I am still a teacher; 5 days a week, 9 hours a day. While I have many (far too many) nasty things to say about my boss, the kids are a huge part of my great experience here. I don't particularly like teaching (gasp) but I do really like children. This can create some strange emotions while working, but come the end of the day, I leave with love in my heart. Seriously, the little ones here are so damn cute. The fact that they are obsessed with me helps too. Screams of "Kerryn Teacher" serenade me everywhere I go in the building. It can be a little awkward when I am trying to use the restroom, but hey, that's life. Most of the girls (and some of the boys) dress with better style than I do, and they all look good. Perms and painted nails are not reserved for the girls (and here it isn't frowned upon for men to use purses). My favorite class is my Schule class named Lancaster: Ben, Jack, Colin, Dan, Kate, Amy, and Ruby... I love you dorks. The really small ones have taken to storm hugging me, making staying on my feet and not crushing them all a challenge. When I first arrived I thought that I had made a mistake by accepting a job in a kindergarten, but now I know this is where I am happiest; old enough to be out of diapers, yet still young enough to cow with one purposeful glance.

10) Life in General: This may seem like a cop-out but I really do find myself content with my life here. Aaron and I have fallen into a perfect routine which was made complete this past week when we adopted a sweet dog named Mung Mung (Korean for woof woof). I love our shoe-box apartment, our twin bed, makeshift closet, and mini fridge. I love how we cook nearly every meal with fresh vegetables and eat fresh baked bread. I love how I have learned to workout without wanting to die. I love my walk home from work. I love pancakes on the weekends and cheese plates for dinner. I love my boyfriend and my dog. I love my friends. I love everyone and everything. I LOVE MY LIFE.

The Hospital

One word to describe my experience being held against my will in a Korean hospital: ABSURDITY! Monday the 10th I hobbled into the lobby with a co-teacher to find out what the real damage was. I didn't exactly trust the doctors in the farm hospital and was hoping to be released from the hell that is walking with crutches. I was wheeled around the building for an X-ray that showed the damage I had done. Who knew that a casual swipe of a tree stump could split one of my proximal phalanges in two? The doctor casually informed me that I would have surgery that day, spend the next 5-7 days bedridden in an 8 person room, and then be on crutches for 4 weeks. I cried.

The most upsetting moment of the week occurred as I was put on a wheeling bed and swept away from my love. We raced through double doors and into a blindingly white room. The panic set in as soon as the green masked surgeons leaned over me. I felt trapped, like a lab specimen due for dissection. Four men rolled me onto my side, tucked my head to my knees, and started prodding my spine. To say I lost it would be an understatement. Shuddering sobs racked my body as I lay helplessly unaware of what was happening. A sharp, stabbing pain and then I lost all feeling below my waist. What started as a comforting warmth turned into a devastating paralysis. The poor surgeons did not know what to make of me, a weird white girl, crying harder than ever at this point. Finally a saint appeared with a gas mask and I didn't even have time to count to 10 before I woke up in recovery.

Still unable to even wiggle a toe, I felt no pain. I was taken to my room where I was told to wait 10 hours before eating. Yeah right. Aaron came to me as soon as we were alone and snuck me a kimbob triangle that I ate with a stealth usually reserved for teens getting high in their parents' house.

The rest of my time was spent giggling with the steady stream of visitors I had and attempting to choke down the food. If you think hospital food is bad, you should try Korean hospital food. Each day I asked if I could go home only to be shut down my doctor. I wheeled myself around the floor, trying not to get my IV cord stuck in my chair. I stared at the wall, ceiling, floor, and walls again. I read, slept, ate, slept, did puzzles, threatened my roommate who wouldn't shut it, and slept some more. All in all it was more boring than sitting through a capstone class at the university.

Finally the day came when the doctor, hearing my plea for release for the 6th time, assented. I paid my bill of about $200 (including surgery, pain pills, a bed for 3 nights, and meals) and ran out the door (or rather crutched awkwardly).

I have about 2 weeks left on my crutches. I will kill.

Burning Man and Broken Toes

As many of you already know, I have spent the last week and half in and out of hospitals and having surgery. Being restricted by my crutches, one would think that I had plenty of time to update my blog. While this may be true, I have to admit that the less I have to do, the less productive I become. Now that I am back at work with a stack of materials to make, I have found time for my blog, of course.

September 8-9th was an unique weekend here in South Korea. A team of masterminds up in Seoul decided that since they could not make it the Black Rock Desert for the real deal they would bring Burning Man to Korea. I know, I know. How can you have Burning Man off the playa without the thousands of die hard burners, furry boots, and drugs that make the experience? I was skeptical myself, honestly, but my doubts were in vain as the weekend proved to be more than I could have imagined.

Leading up the weekend Aaron, Mara, Danielle, and myself talked in circles about what we would need to make this trip memorable. We decided on bagels, pb&js, sparklers, glitter, and kalimotxos (aka calimochos, aka cheap red wine and cola). Thoroughly laden down with tents, sleeping bags, coolers, and a medley of other awkwardly shaped bags we headed to the bus stop to meet the rest of the group.

Mara's pack

Supplies

A 10:00pm departure could only mean one thing; NOREBUS. While that is a standard term in my vernacular, let me explain for the rest of the world. A norebong is a small, dark, padded room complete with disco lights, microphones, and karaoke loud enough to deafen even the most dedicated veterans. Take all of those wonderful ideas and put them on a massive bus, careening down the highway at ungodly speeds, and voila, a norebus is born. With shrieks of delight the lights dimmed, the neon laser show began, and The Cranberries' "Zombie" set the tone for the weekend.

NOREBUS

We arrived at our destination, Gijipo Beach, around 1:00am. Stumbling through the dark we (not so easily) set up our tent in an awful, bramble infested area. Upon completion we wandered down to the the rest of the tents to discover they were peacefully nestled in between tall trees on soft sand. I immediately wanted to move. Being the prat that I am, I convinced Aaron to help me carry the tent in the dark from the forest to the beach. BIG MISTAKE.

About 10 feet from main camp I casually took a step forward and heard a sickening crack. I glanced down at my pinkie toe just in time to acknowledge that I had swiped a tree stump at exactly the right angle to bend my toe out to a 90 degree angle. A few muttered profanities later and I found myself on the ground at main camp. As the shock began to overwhelm my system I struggled to maintain consciousness. I'm sure you are thinking, over a pinkie toe? Yes, a pinkie toe that was protruding at such a horrific angle I couldn't handle it (I guess that answers any doubt I had about becoming a doctor). As I waited for a van I was sprawled across the ground with support coming from all angles. This was the first time I noticed that I was surrounded by the best people on Earth. Strangers brought me water, ice packs, blankets, etc. while other held my hands and helped me breathe. They carried me to the van, tucked me in, and I was off. 40 minutes later we arrived at some po-dunk hospital complete with spiders in the bathroom, used tissues on my bed, and crickets scattered throughout the ward. Not the most reassuring place I have been. After an x-ray the doctor informed me that it was broken (NO SHIT?!). At this point I was over the shock, in no pain, and was ready to get back to Burning Man. He casually placed me on an operating table, had a nurse restrain me, and proceeded to yank my toe from its socket. I would be lying if I said I didn't scream, cry, and thrash around like one of my kindergartners. A quick shot in my butt (the first of many to come) followed and I was done. I spent the night in the hospital, unable to sleep, listening to the doctor watch videos on how to surf (so it's like this bros, you just have to gnash it out, chu know? Push that board into the wave, toes to the nose bros). The next morning, actually it was only about 5 hours later, Aaron and the team came back to pick me up. They dropped the bomb, explaining that although I would be able to go back to Burning Man, I had to be on crutches AND have surgery on my foot. Weak...

Stupid

Really stupid.

PB&J

...but I was able to go back to Burning Man and I guess that is all that matters. I stepped out of the van to cheers, I blushed furiously and concentrated on not falling on my face, which might have put a damper on my 5 seconds of fame. The weekend proceeded as planned. We covered ourselves in sparkles, ate fist-fulls of carbs, and opened our eyes and hearts to a crowd unlike any I have ever seen. Being on crutches gave me a new vantage point as I was camped on a chair, soaking in all of the eccentricities that began to emerge as the festival unfolded. A mime, who claimed he was just French, a Frenchman and an Englishman dressed (and painted) as smurfs, pixies, clowns, and bare breasted women appeared suddenly only to then vanish as quickly as they came; their content giggles and smears of paint being all that remained. The Gwangju tent was Gwangju Night Lights and it was complete with makoli bottle candles and body paint. What more could a girl ask for? A martyr of sorts brought me a Frisbee full of the ocean to wet my feet. Another crafted me a hat fit for a lady in court out of nothing more than a piece of felt. Random hugs, treats, and well wishes came my way all day. I was too caught up in the acceptance and love all around me to even acknowledge my temporary disability. As the sun set we made our way down the beach to watch the burning of the men. Two wooden statues, hand in hand, stood proudly in front of a hodgepodge of characters who were all so far from home, yet united here for this moment. Hundreds, if not thousands of sparklers illuminated the beach. I had, as I often do in Korea, a moment of utter contentedness. The men went up in flames and we made our way back to our tent.

Rosie, Calen, Kat

Aaron and Julien

Body painting

My man

<3

Mara <3

The burn

Tent city

If this post sounds sickeningly "love everyone, man" then I suppose it is. Burning Man is an event unlike any other and Korea Burn was able to capture some of the allurement in its own private way. I met some of the most opened minded and caring people throughout the weekend that I will never forget. It was honestly a weekend for the books.

Upon returning to the real world I had surgery on my toe. Two pins, three days in the hospital, and $200 (thank you Korean health care) later I am back at work, albeit on crutches. A small price to pay for the experience and general giddy feeling the Korea Burn created.

Summer

Summer in Korea has its pros and cons. The main con definitely being the fact that it is impossible to step outside without immediately shedding your body weight in sweat. While this has helped me lose weight, *high-fives self, it is also extremely disgusting and uncomfortable. The air is so humid that I feel like I have to literally swim through the moisture. Coming from the desert makes it even harder to deal with. I will take my Reno induced crocodile skin and chapped lips over the wet, smelly mess I have become.

With that said, summer here is AMAZING! I have never been so busy in my life. Various weekend trips, dinner dates, and excursions have me wondering where the time has gone. I am truly happy to admit that I have met some very incredible people during my time here. Actually, I have to admit that I have met wonderful people during all of my adventures around the world, and they have helped transform me into the person I never knew I wanted to be. So a small shout-out to friends met in France, Honduras, and South Korea, you will always be in my heart.

Enough sappy nonsense...

A couple weekends ago, Aaron and I went on a trip with Pedro (the man with a plan) to Namahe island. Known as Korea's "treasure island" Namhae boasts terraced rice fields facing rocky shores, the pair creating breathtaking scenery. I spent the weekend in a haze, stopping every once in a while to wonder at this adventure that my life has become. We spent time in an eclectic art museum full of clocks, shields, and a plethora of other random items. We then drove along the coast, admiring the calm sea and dramatic cliffs. In order to get to our minbak (like a hostel, sleep on the floor) we had to creep our way along the coastline as crazy Koreans sped past us fueling the "Asians can't drive" stereotype.We wound our way down a steep hillside, marveling at the many rooftops decorated with painted flowers of every shade. The minbak was perfect, wooden floors, walls, ceilings, and a shower that consisted of nothing more than a hose in the wall. The group headed down to a pebbly beach to swim (or to get stung by jellyfish in my case) and relax on the smooth, round, multi colored rocks that were washed up on shore. The only downside to being in a Korean paradise: litter. Plastic bags floated haphazardly along, joined by the occasional fishing net/line. The path down to the beach was scattered with small, camouflaged bunkers. Being the ignorant, naive, and happy people we are, we just assumed they were for paintball. Turns out, as Pedro put it, there is still a war going on and those bunkers house South Korean soldiers each night who keep an eye out for North Korean submarines trying to come ashore. That night we watched the sun set while perched on boulders, the rice paddies to one side, the shoreline to the other. 

In the museum

Rosie <3

South Korean soldier bunker to watch for North Koreans

Pebble beach

The next day was spent kayaking, canoeing, paddle boarding, and snorkeling in a new, not-so-polluted spot in sea. We ended our sea expedition on a massive raft, pretending we were ship wrecked, learning how to navigate away from rocks and rescuing any members of our party dawdling in the sea. It was a weekend of bliss.

Sea kayaking

Rescuing

Snorkeling

Pretty ladies in a pretty setting.

My lover.

This past weekend was yet another summer inspired, Pedro conducted adventure. We took off Saturday morning to marvel at a waterfall that was gushing thanks to a week of rain. The power of the fall was something to behold, so naturally we all jumped in to feel the tug of the current nudging us closer to the edge (and our immediate death). Pedro pulled out a magical bottle of vodka so we sat, surrounded by the mist of the fall, deafened by the roar of the water, sipping pomegranate cocktails, reveling in the perfect life we live.

Waterfall.

Pedro and his vodka

Post-waterfall we drove up and down a precarious mountain (stopping once so we could all pee in the bushes like regular heathens) and came upon a river in a remote town. Camped on a boulder, surrounded by nature, with makgeolli (fermented rice liquor) in hand, I was at peace. We embarked on an epic excursion down the river, giggling and shrieking as the ice-cold water reminded us that summer is coming to an end. When it came time to head back to our camp we nervously admitted that we had no idea how we would navigate ourselves back up the turbulent river. A few lunges, bruises, and near death experiences landed us back on our boulder.

River times

I have said it before and I will say it again, I LOVE KOREA. Summer is wrapping up slowly and I can't wait to see what ridiculous situations we will find ourselves in come winter.