Easter in Seoul

Meg and I woke up around 6:30 on Sunday and made our way into Seoul for the Easter service at the Seoul Cathedral. We arrived just before 9:00 and Meg went off to the washroom before the service while I went to get us seats. I was greeted at the entrance by the ushers who informed me that they had run out of bulletins and hymnals. After two hours of travel, I was not impressed. Meg and I were fortunate because we both know the Anglican liturgy fairly well (though we're slightly off sometimes as they use the British and Episcopal versions rather than Canadian one) so we managed for the most part. The hymns were a little weak as the front half of the church sang along and the back half (without books) just stood there singing along to the parts they knew. There were probably about 120-140 people in attendance and only about 60-70 with the Order of Service. Meg and I sat around the middle and some of the people around us had books, but everyone behind us didn't. It made me a little sad. On a normal week the church probably gets about 50 people, meaning that about half the people there were visitors and the half with the books, for the most part, were the regulars. It made me think back to some of the courses I took at Wycliffe about growing congregations and the do's and don'ts. This service would have made my professor cry. If I was still taking courses at Wycliffe I could have written a paper on numerous mistakes made by this congregation. Instead, I just sit here thinking about all the people that will likely never return. Being the only Anglican church with English services within a few hundred kilometers this makes the situation even more depressing than if it had occurred in Toronto.

On a happier note, my parents arrive on Thursday. In lots of ways the past six months have flown by. It almost doesn't feel like we've been away long enough to have visitors, but we're both looking forward to their arrival (and not just for the long list of items I've asked them to bring over for us).

It should be an interesting visit. When they visited me in Japan I had a long list of places to take them and we traveled around a good deal of the country on the Bullet Train visiting three of Japan's ancient capitals (Kyoto, Nara, Kamakura), it's current capital (Tokyo), Hiroshima and the area where I lived. I had day trips planned for them to places nearby on the days I had to work with a train schedule and maps of the area. This time their visit will be split into three pieces. They arrive on Thursday and spend the weekend with us before departing for China on Monday. Then we'll meet them in Seoul the following weekend and on the Sunday they'll head off north of Seoul for their World Vision meeting for three days. After that they'll come back to Yongin for four more days.

While we're in Seoul we'll likely take them to a few of the palaces and the DMZ (demilitarized Zone - separating North and South Korea). As for the rest of their trip I'm not sure exactly where to take them. We might try and head down to Busan the last weekend they're here if they aren't too exhausted. Some how I doubt the sites of Korea will be able to compete with their week in China (Great Wall, Forbidden City, Terra Cotta Warriors, Temple of Heaven).

Springtime Blahs?

There’s vomit on the streets and yellow dust in the air. It’s springtime in Korea.

This is a whiny article. I’ll just warn you.

Both Paul and I have the privilege to walk by vomit puddles on a regular basis. Public drunkenness (and alcoholism) are both big problems in Korea that few people seem to talk about. We’ve passed groups of men fighting in the streets and men passed out in the streets – before 10pm. And then there’s the vomit puddles that never get cleaned up – they just fade away.

Springtime in Korea feels much more like a time for plodding than plotting and planning. Every spring, yellow dust from the Gobi desert in China blows down into Korea. The phenomenon has been recorded for several hundred years, but in the recent past the effects have been much worse: the sand brings more pollutants with it. Fortunately, in our neighborhood, people have taken to burning their fields, manure, and garbage piles, so that we can enjoy this experience even more.

We took a trip to Costco last Saturday. This may not seem like much of an event, but it’s a two-hour ride there, maneuvering through the store, and a two-hour trip home. (Usually, the bus ride is a little shorter, but the traffic was bad this weekend.) The process of shopping at Costco is unique: it feels like big-Asian-market-meets-American-wholesale-club. There are people and carts everywhere you turn. In Korea, there is a power of wills (or of age); no one moves carts or bodies out of the way, so the experience can be rather frustrating. If you do happen to be in the way, someone will push you to get by. This is done with no subtlety in a classic pushing move: put hand on other body and shove. I’ve taken to saying out loud how much I dislike Korea when this happens; though, on my first trip to Costco I sobbed uncontrollably in the middle of the store.

This particular trip was noteworthy because of our bus ride home. Because we were the last people on the bus, we stood for the drive home - in the front of the bus. I was right beside the driver, and watched as he checked his phone for messages, opened the window, closed the window, looked through his bags, opened a drink - all while driving a bus full of passengers at 125 km/hr. I spent the ride thinking of what to do in case of an accident. But I also spent the ride knowing that I would likely get home safe, with a story to tell. And really, that's how I feel about a lot of the things we experience here - from bus rides to vomit puddles. Every once in a while we look at each other and say, "our kids will never believe that we were this cool."

In Praise of Japan

If you haven’t read Paul’s posts below and looked at his beautiful pictures (he just posted some more last night); you really should. He’s written three posts now on our trip to Japan, and I haven’t written one.

I haven’t written because I didn’t really know where to start. It was a surprise trip, and we had a bit of struggle getting out of Korea. (I now have three pages of voided stamps in my passport from the Koreans.) In that sense, it was a relief just to be able to leave the country. Neither one of us would say that we’re unhappy here, but every time we’ve left the county, I think we both feel as though an enormous weight has been lifted. In part, because of my visa troubles, and, in part because of the rudeness we encounter here.

But this isn’t about Korea; it’s about Japan. And Japan was amazing. There were a lot of evergreens, so even in winter the country looked green and warm. The first day we went to Miyajima, one of the ‘three most beautiful’ places in Japan. It kind of set the pace for the trip. Miyajima is an island of mountains – long, shapely mountains that look like dragons curled up on each other. And so richly green! Every site we visited was warm (in appearance only) and green, pristinely manicured and poised for tourists. At every site, they would have English brochures ready before we bought our tickets. At Matsushima, a guide came running after us in order to give us a free tour in English. If we had to take our shoes off, they had ‘large size’ sandals ready for Paul (he refused them at one place, thinking he could just walk around in his socks; he took them after he realized it would be too cold. What was remarkable was that the people offering didn’t tell him it would be too cold, but they looked very sad for him.)

This kindness extended everywhere. People smiled at each other and bowed. They would duck out of each other’s pictures. At Himeji Castle, Paul stopped to take a few pictures near a boy and his grandfather. The grandfather quickly pulled the boy out of the way. When Paul was finished, we thanked him, and the grandfather commented on Paul’s camera and told us to have a nice day at the castle. When we were lost in Kyoto, a woman walked several blocks with us to help us find our way. Neither one of these experiences is particularly remarkable, except to say that they were the rule rather than the exception.

It’s the cleanest place I’ve ever been – not just Miyajima or any of their other parks, temples, or castles – but every single street. The cleanliness probably stuck out a bit more after living in Korea and spending time in developing nations like Vietnam and Cambodia. I remember the one time I saw trash on the ground – the one time in our whole trip. But it wasn’t just the absence of trash that made Japan feel clean: it was that the streets and sidewalks had obviously been cleaned and swept on a regular basis, the trees were pruned and cared for, at one site we even saw workers brushing the moss on the ground. These are people who are concerned not simply about appearance of their place, but about the health and well-being of the place itself. Cars were quieter and emitted less fumes. We walked through the busiest sections of Tokyo, and the air was still cleaner than anything else I’ve experienced since I left Vermont.

Clearly, one of the most important parts of any trip is the food. I was excited about visiting Japan just for the sushi. But here I have to gush again: everything was so fresh! I’m not particularly fond of the sticky Asian rices (unless covered in some kind of sauce), but the rice in Japan was so fresh it was like eating something purer than air. I know this all sounds ridiculous, and perhaps it is, but something should be said for the dedication the Japanese have to fresh food. I think it’s the first vacation we’ve been on together where we didn’t both gain five pounds. We ate meals from 7-11 that were head and shoulders better than anything else I’ve had in Asia. And, of course, we ate sushi until we couldn’t eat any more.

That’s my glowing blog about Japan for now. Perhaps later I’ll write a bit more details about the places we visited.

Memories of Japan

It's been awhile since we've posted. We started our new school year on Monday, and when we arrived on Monday morning neither Meg nor I (or any of the other 3 public school teachers we know) had a schedule for the term. None of us had any idea what was happening or if we were even teaching that day. Luckily, neither Meg nor I had to teach until Tuesday (our friend Kevin wasn't so lucky. He had 5 classes he had to teach on the spot).

As of next week we'll have been here for 6 months. For the most part I think the six months have gone rather quickly (I'm sure our trips into Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia and Japan have helped a great deal). I think this next term will be easier for both of us as Meg finally has her own office and I gotten comfortable enough in mine to skype people from work.

In other news, Meg and I bought a humidifier that is shaped like a dog. It's name is "Puppy". we're both very happy to have something to combat the dry season we're in now. For those of you who don't know, it's Yellow Dust (Asian Dust) season here. I'm not sure how it works exactly, but a bunch of sand blows over Korea (and parts of Japan sometimes) from the Chinese desert. This has occurred for thousands of years, but has only recently caused trouble as it now picks up the air pollution as it passes into Korea. Needless to say, Meg's had difficulties with her asthma this week. We're hoping "puppy" will help solve the problem. For more information on the Asian Dust visit wikipedia, it's more interesting than it sounds.

I figured I'd put up a few more photos from our time in Japan. Meg and I both miss it greatly and talk about it more than is healthy, I'd imagine.

Meg admires a figure of Japan's most famous Haiku poet (Matsuo Basho). Basho even visited my town of Ishinomaki while he was traveling around Japan crafting his Haiku. Although, my students told me that he actually got lost and hadn't intended to visit the city. That didn't stop the city from putting up a statue of him in the town park on the top of the hill (near where I'm standing with the torii a few posts down). This photo is in Matsushima, one of the three most beautiful places in Japan (and more importantly, only 25 minutes from where I lived).

Meg and I in front of the Phoenix Hall in Uji. This was probably one of Meg's favourite places in Japan. For those of you who know the Tale of Genji (believed by some to be the World's first novel - written in Japan in the 11th century), some of the scenes took place here.

We were lucky to see a couple of Geisha visiting the Golden Pavilion (Kinkakuji) in Kyoto. This one even posed for my photo. We also visited the Gion district of Kyoto to see the Geisha wandering the streets between performances, but it was too dark to take photos of them.

Himeji Castle is easily Japan's most famous castle. It frequently appears in Japanese television, movies and in serves as the back drop for many video games as well. Although the area around Himeji was bombed by the Americans a couple of times in WWII the castle escaped any major damage.

A Noh performer in Miyajima. Noh is a form of Japanese musical drama that has been performed since the 14th century.

A pagoda in Miyajima. I really like pagodas. For some reason there are a lot more in southern Japan than up north where I lived.

The deer of Miyajima are considered sacred. The pretty much wander the island like the own the place. Of course they aren't nearly as bad as the deer of Nara (I'll have to post some photos of Meg getting bitten by them while trying to feed them. I don't think she overly enjoyed the experience). Anyways, Meg made noises to draw the attention of this deer so I could take some photos of it. At this moment I was pretty sure it was getting ready to jump on Meg. Thankfully, it did not.