Blossoms & Stress Baking

Wen Ni and me at Yeojwacheon in Jinhae last week, just before the cherry blossom festival began.

The same stream about one week later, with the trees in full bloom.

The city I currently call home is gorgeous in the spring, as streets and hills turn pink with cherry blossoms (벚꽃) blooming all over. I'm very happy in Changwon now, and I'll be honest: I couldn't bear leaving my city and my school. But graduate school beckons... I have a tough choice to make by mid-April. Naturally, I'm worried out about it: add Decide Future Plans to my huge to-do list, right after Stress Bake All Night, which is what I'm doing now. It's 5:46am and my apartment smells like chocolate chip cookies, maple-walnut bread, and strawberry cupcakes. I'm headed to the Fulbright Spring Conference on Jeju Island in a few hours, and the treats I've made are for a bake sale there. Hopefully I can find some time this weekend to take a deep breath, relax, and ponder the future.

Jindo Miracle Sea Festival

The question is: was it worth going to the Jindo Miracle Sea Festival?

Actually, the question is: What is this festival, anyway? And what are they wearing? And what time is it???

Was it worth traveling from Changwon to Gwangju (3 hours) and then Gwangju to Jindo (2 hours) on a rainy day without time for a proper meal?

Was it worth actually missing the scheduled bus to Jindo and having to wait an hour for the next one, moving our arrival time to even later on a cold, drizzly evening?

Was it worth joining a pension (a rented house) with over thirty other people crammed so full that there was nowhere to sleep but the ground?

Was it worth staying up all night and not sleeping at all because we had to leave for the sea-parting ceremony at three in the morning? Or missing the first caravan and consequently actually leaving at four?

Was it worth arriving at the beach, having just missed the fireworks, to find hundreds of people carrying torches, already returning from the sea-crossing since the tide didn't go down low enough to make it to the other side?

Was it worth standing around in the dark, damp morning, waiting for the sun to rise, but not even seeing it due to the fog?

Was it worth waiting in the cold for a taxi to take me back to Jindo, then a bus to take me back to Gwangju, then another bus to take me back to Changwon, during which rides all I slept more soundly than I have for about a week?

Hm... 모르는것 같아...?

No, just kidding. The answer is: YES. It was totally worth it.

It was worth traveling for five hours in poor weather because I've sorely needed to get out of my city for a while. It was worth missing the first bus to Jindo, because I ran into other Fulbrighters at the terminal -- we missed the bus together -- and got to know them much better. It was worth being packed into the pension because it was full of new friends and old, and we ate, joked, played music, caught up on old times, and simply had a great party all night. It was worth not sleeping because instead, I played some fun games and took a walk outside and felt just a little bit like I was in college again, forgoing sleep for the sake of making memories. Even missing the first caravan was no big deal since it gave us more time to sleep and/or eat breakfast.

It was worth getting to the beach after everyone had ventured out into the water because the sight of the crossing from afar, with torches flickering and people wading around in knee-high water was breathtaing. It was worth waiting around for the sunrise, because we found a beach and seashells! It was worth all the travel and trouble because in the end, I just spent a weird and wonderful weekend with people that I like and love. I got to know a bunch of the first-year Fulbright teachers a lot better, and I also technically crossed something off of my Korea bucket list. The sea-parting may have disappointed, but literally everything else about this past weekend was great and totally worthwhile.

So here are some photos: 

Monica and me, who barely made it into the water before the "Miracle Sea Road" closed again. Taken by Neal.

Fulbrighters as excited as humanly possible at 5:30am on a cold and rainy beach!

So I like fire. Taken by Neal.

I also found Moses! Just before he got into a car and ran away. 

Emerging from the sea...

Later, we went to a sand beach and went in as far as our waders would let us. It was fun! Modo, our would-be destination earlier that morning, is behind us.

Thanksgiving Weekend

Busan Fireworks Festival. Note the smartphone screens...

Highlights (and a lowlight) from an all-around great weekend:

• Thanksgiving Dinner with Fulbright and the US Embassy was quite nice. I ate lots of turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes with marshmallow, and pumpkin pie, and I caught up with friends and colleagues. I also performed a short demonstration of taekgyeon (right in front of the American ambassador!) and only endangered the life of an audience member one time. I'll post a video of my performance soon.
• Celebrated a friend's birthday with cake and beer while a legit thunderstorm raged outside.
• Caught up with a Swattie friend and talked extensively about books for our students. I love books, and last Friday I submitted an order for a few dozen more for my school's English library. Also, I baked snickerdoodles and the aforementioned friend got to try one for the very first time.
• Walking around Seoul with my 장봉 felt only slightly incongruous. A lady mistook my stick for a handgrip and used it to steady herself as she took a seat on the subway.
• Transportation fail: having left my wallet in a hostel, I had to borrow cash from a friend to take a taxi across the city, and I accidentally took a yellow cab, whose rates are twice as expensive as the normal taxis. I gave the driver all the money I had, apologizing profusely. Miraculously, I was only one dollar short of the fare.
• Transportation win: I never book bus tickets in advance (I don't even know if it's possible), so sometimes earlier buses sell out. I arrived at the terminal at 5:30 and the next available ticket was for 8:15. I bought it but then went straight to the gate to see if I could snag an empty seat on an earlier bus. Just before the 6:00 bus left, I asked if there were any seats still available, and voila, I got right on.
• I obtained the position of photography editor for Fulbright's literary magazine, Infusion! Our staff had its first meeting today at a cozy cafe in Hongdae. I'm very excited to work on the magazine this year.

Picture is unrelated: I took that at the Busan Fireworks Festival, which was a few weekends ago. I absolutely loved it. Despite the frighteningly large crowds, the beautiful, mesmerizing show really made my whole weekend.

Jinju Lantern Festival

A few weeks ago, I went to the Jinju Lantern Festival and took lots of pictures of the main attraction: lanterns. Well, to be honest they weren't really lanterns, but more like lit-up paper sculptures. They were statues that glowed in the dark. Either way, it was quite the experience. Thanks to an earlier typhoon, the weather was a bit drizzly and there were fewer visitors (the festival is famous for being extremely crowded), but it was nice enough out to walk along the Nam River in Jinju and take in all the sights. You could pay a small toll to traverse makeshift bridges and see the largest and most beautiful sculptures on the river itself, including huge floats that represented landmarks around the world, such as the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Sphinx, and the Statue of Liberty.

I experienced the festival with Elani, a friend from Changwon, and John, another Fulbrighter who lives and teaches at the science high school in Jinju. Even though Jinju is only an hour's bus ride away from Changwon, this was in fact my first time visiting. Well, better late than never!

Here are the photos! Excuse the horrendous image quality, please; I've taken these off of Facebook. If you're interested in viewing or using an original, just let me know.

A lantern sculpture depicting 차례지내기, the tradition of honoring ancestors at Chuseok, an important Korean national holiday.

There were giant "lanterns" set up all around Jinju Fortress (진주성), the site of an important battle waged against Japanese invaders in the late 1500s. A lot of these lanterns depicted traditional Korean life or warfare, like this soldier on a horse.

As it got darker, the lanterns became more luminous and beautiful. Here is a beautiful tyrannosaurus rex, ready to chomp off Elani's head!

Besides the big lantern sculptures, there were "tunnels" of smaller lanterns -- these were more like the lanterns I am familiar with. Walking through this tunnel was fantastic. All of these lanterns were homemade.

This was a cool part of the festival: people can make their own lantern and set it on the river to float away, presumably with a wish or some sort of blessing. All of the lanterns ended up floating into the nearby bank, but it still looked pretty magical.

And then there was this dragon being ridden by Guanyin.

Here is a photo of the entire 남강 (Nam River) in Jinju at night, with tons of lanterns making the river brighter than the city itself. It was so lovely! ... But dang, this looks like one apocalyptic electricity bill...

Baby Korean Jesus

The Nativity Scene a la Lantern Festival

This evening, I went to the Jinju Lantern Festival (진주남강유등축제), where the main attraction is a gallery of enormous, colorful, "lantern" sculptures floating on the Nam River (남당). This one is a Nativity scene with Asian wise men, Asian Joseph and Mary, and a beautiful baby Asian Jesus (아기예수) in his lit-up manger. It's late, so I have to retire to my own manger now, but I promise more photos to come soon.

The Difference Between Migrants and Expats (MAMF 2013)

MAMF 2013 in Yongji Cultural Park, Changwon

After church today, some friends and I visited the Migrants' Arirang Multicultural Festival being held in Yongji Cultural Park, conveniently just across the street from Hanbit Presbyterian Church. I had heard of this unique cultural festival last year, but I didn't attend. This year, it appeared to be a much bigger event, and since it was so close and also because there was the promise of food, I went to check it out.

My first and most enduring impression was that there were a lot of people there, and the diversity was stunning. Now, I know that Changwon is home to thousands of non-Koreans. Ever since South Korea's rise to economic success, people from many other countries in Asia have arrived to seek their fortunes here. But I never realized just... how many there were. I have literally never seen more non-East Asians assembled in one place until today. And I emphasize non-East Asians because Western countries were hardly represented here. More on that later.

Mongolian representatives enter the wrestling ring.

The festival had been running all weekend, but the crowds were still bustling and events were going on all the time even on its final day. In one corner of the park, a large group of Vietnamese were holding a talent show. They were decked out in traditional clothes or t-shirts with their national flag on them. In another area, what looked like a beauty contest was taking place for the Cambodian community. Right next to them, a Nepalese man decked out in hip-hop attire was giving a rap performance to an attentive crowd. Pakistani university exchange students were blasting music and dancing together, too, to the amusement of the many Koreans wandering by the park. One of the most interesting events I witnessed was a demonstration of Mongolian wrestling, or Bökh (Бөх). The athletes braved the cold in their very bare uniforms (see photo above) and also did some interesting balletic salutes to their flag and to the crowd before commencing their bouts of grappling and throwing each other to the ground.

In addition to the events, there were numerous stalls promoting each country's unique culture and food, as well as stalls for kids to experience the "multi" aspect of the culture by creating buttons or decorating flags. My favorite part, of course, was browsing the food stalls for delicious things to eat. Vietnam had pho, Japan had takoyaki, Indonesia had sate ayam, and Russia had a barbecue grill that was billowing enormous clouds of smoke in every direction. For lunch, I got menudo, a kind of meat stew, and turon, which are like fried banana egg rolls, both from the Philippines. I also sneaked bites of my friends' pad thai (Thailand), tandoori chicken (India), and fried calamari (Indonesia). This lunch reminded me a lot of Multicultural Week at my high school, where student clubs would raise money by selling foods from all around the world, and because my high school was in Fremont, well, the diversity of authentic ethnic foods you could find at our little high school fair was superb.

Food stalls! So many good smells emanating from this area of the festival...

So here's the odd part. The first thing I looked for when I realized that it was a multicultural festival was the stall for Taiwan. I didn't find one. China had a food stall, where they were selling dumplings and milk tea (unfortunately, when I asked for one, they had temporarily run out of water... at least I got to practice my Mandarin!). But Taiwan was nowhere to be found. I also noticed that there were food stalls for over a dozen Asian countries, including countries that I must admit I never think about (like Sri Lanka, Uzbekistan, Nepal, and Bangladesh. I always forget about Bangladesh on Sporcle quizzes...), but the only European country represented was Germany, whose popular wurst stall was being run by a Korean.

It didn't take me long, however, to realize that it being the "Migrants' Arirang" festival, the only countries represented would be those of... migrant workers. I then looked around and realized that all these South Asians, Southeast Asians, and Central Asians that I had never noticed before were probably from communities of migrant workers or immigrants in Korea, and I had a really big "OH" moment.

I think that up until now, my astoundingly narrow-minded idea of the "foreigner" (외국인) in Korea was of the Western Anglophone: an independent twenty-something  from Canada, South Africa, the UK, Australia, New Zealand, or the US, most likely white, here in Korea for one to four years on a short teaching stint before moving home or on to the next Asian country. Of course, living in Changwon expanded that idea a bit to include young couples on a short teaching stint, old couples on a very long teaching stint, missionaries, foreign exchange students, and lots and lots of engineers from all over the world.

Most of these kinds of foreigners I can also categorize as "expats". The dictionary definition of "expatriate" is someone who is banished from or purposely withdraws from their native country to live somewhere else, but it has less of a negative or political connotation in expat circles today, especially when it comes to communities of expat English teachers. I've noticed that the word "expat" now refers primarily to Western foreigners, a more exclusive circle than 외국인.

And now I can see clearly how there is a huge group of people categorically left out of the discourse: immigrants (이민자). I never see them because they are mostly employed in industry, like in one of Changwon's hundreds of factories, in a completely different part of town. Migrant workers (이주 노동자) are supposed to be temporary, making enough money to move back home or onto something else in just a few years. However, I learned that in some immigrant communities in Changwon, families have lived here for ten or more years. Their children have grown up here. They are, in fact, exactly like the permanent immigrant communities in California that I'm so accustomed to (that I'm a part of, actually), only their adopted country is Korea, not the United States.

I find it somewhat awkward that this had never really occurred to me before -- it was a curious case of culture shock. That there are huge communities of minorities threaded into the seemingly solid-color fabric of Korean society shouldn't be a surprise to anyone. But it took my seeing all of them "out in the open" to realize how sizable the demographic really is.

Perhaps the other awkward part was realizing then why I couldn't find Taiwan today: there are relatively few migrant workers in Korea who are from my motherland, because Taiwan is developed enough economically for its people not to have to go abroad to find work. (Plus, Koreans don't crave stinky tofu the way they crave jajangmyeon.)

And that then made me think about how strange it would be if I did run into a poor Taiwanese enclave somewhere in the world and found myself staring straight into the face of my American privilege. Taiwanese-Americans and ABCs of my generation have generally done very well for themselves in the US. What if this wasn't the case somewhere else, and I met a community of Taiwanese emigrants who were living virtually unrecognized in a society that only acknowledged them once a year with a festival that celebrated but also completely Otherized them? I don't know what I would do. I would probably also have trouble communicating with them, beyond asking for a 布丁奶茶 and explaining that I'm actually from California.

Perhaps I'm over-thinking this now. Readers, what do you think about migrant workers and immigrant communities in the place where you live? Do you think about them at all?

In any case, I did enjoy spending time at the Migrants' Arirang Multicultural Festival today, and above all else I'm happy that Changwon hosts a festival like this, in the midst of Korea's festival-overload season. (Also happening this weekend were the Andong Maskdance Festival, the Busan International Film Festival, the Jinju Lantern Festival, and the Korea Drama Festival, and those are just the ones in the Gyeongsang provinces alone!)

P.S. Here are two articles about MAMF 2013 that I will get around to reading (and maybe translating -- they're in Korean) if I have the time: Nocut News and International News.

The Tournament

As I had predicted, I won something without having to win anything! Aren't I lucky?

Me, my taekgyeon master, and another trainee at the Taekgyeon Training Center in Chungju (near where our tournament was held)

What I did have to do, however, was muster up as much patience as I could for what turned out to be two extremely long days. This taekgyeon tournament was a long, drawn-out affair, and it wasn't even due to inefficiency. It's just that there were many teams (from Daegu, Chungju, Busan, and more) and tons of events to get through, and I spent many hours simply waiting.

I had mis-estimated the tournament schedule. Although our team (the biggest one in attendance, at forty-five strong) arrived at the 호암체육관 (Hoam Sports Center) in Chungju by 9:30am, none of the adults had any events until the mid-afternoon. The entire morning, then, was dedicated to the children's events. I had a great time watching kindergarteners attempt to spar. They mostly ended up running at each other, hugging fiercely, and toppling over.

By noon, most of the youngest kids and elementary school events were over, and we had lunch. Then, there was an opening ceremony of sorts (개업식) that included a fantastic taekgyeon dance performance that was as captivating as a ballet and lots of excruciatingly boring speeches by men in suits. After that, middle and high schoolers began their events, and things became a bit more interesting to watch. Unfortunately, I also fell victim to a massive wave of fatigue, having slept for only three hours the prior evening, plus three bumpy hours on the bus. So, I napped. I also babysat the kids who had finished their events. They're really adorable, and I wish I had taken pictures, but I had unwisely left my camera at home over the weekend!

Around 5pm, it was finally time for the adult tournament to begin. I had been waiting restlessly around for about seven hours. Unluckily, I was also last in my section, being one of the lightest athletes and only one of three competitors in my weight class, 태백. The other two competitors started off in the semi-finals, and I "won" my semi-final by default, having no opponent, so at around 6:20pm on Saturday evening, after an entire day of doing nothing, I found myself in the finals against a tall, friendly-looking guy who I was sure was going to knock me flat on my face in a matter of seconds.

A fellow athlete at my dojang took a video of my 시합 (shihap, or... fight? battle? Oh: match). If I get ahold of it, I will post it here. For now, here's another video he took of another athlete from my dojang. He's blue, and he won this round!

So, yes, this is what taekgyeon should look like. As for my match, well, it didn't look like this...

I had been told again and again by 사범님 and 관장님 that I should focus on defense, since my kicking isn't yet up to anyone's standards. So, I didn't attack at all, and only waited for attacks to come my way so that I could block and maybe trip, as I'd been practicing. What I wasn't prepared for was the variety of kicks my opponent (반대자) had in his arsenal: attacks that I'd never practiced defending before. So, within thirty seconds, I was kicked in the face -- in the chin, actually, and it knocked my teeth together so hard that I swore in surprise. One point for blue.

In the next round, I stayed close and didn't let him kick. This forced him to try a grapple of sorts, but because I absolutely refuse to be taken down that way, I fidgeted my way out of the hold and somehow flipped him over. He fell, and I landed on top of him quite gracelessly. But hey, one point for red! Thirty seconds later, he kicked me in the chin again. Game over, blue won.

My opponent was really gracious; he tried to shake my hand at the beginning of our match, but I was confused at the gesture -- dumb American -- and didn't take it. At the end of our match, we successfully shook hands, and he said thanks (for being such an easy opponent, I guess?) really smilingly and apologetically; my chin was slightly bleeding... Anyway, he won the gold, and because our match was technically a final round, I took silver. That's how I won without winning! At least I didn't get seriously hurt, and everyone in my dojang, including the kids and my taekgyeon masters, watched my first match ever. They were very encouraging all the way through, and I felt good, like I had actually done well and not simply refrained from doing horrendously.

That evening, we had a quick dinner, and then we watched some more taekgyeon dance performances. (If I find any more videos online, I'll share them.) Then, a really cool band took the stage for a musical performance of rock and traditional Korean fusion. I can't really describe how awesome it was, but it was loud and unlike anything I've ever heard before. I really enjoyed that. It helped me realize that this Hanmadang (한마당) was not just an athletic competition but also a cultural festival in its own right, and I was thrilled to be a part of it.

The adults from my dojang ended the night with fried chicken and beer. Day two of the tournament, Sunday, was the same as day one, only I didn't participate in any events, because the sparring was more freestyle this time around, and 관장님 didn't want me to get injured. So, in a nutshell, I napped, babysat, and watched kids fight each other for five or six hours. It was actually a pretty restful Sabbath, if I may say so myself. Finally, the tournament was over; we collected our medals and trophies (second place in the elementary team sparring event, and several dozen assorted medals!) and napped all the way back to Changwon.

I feel very good about having participated in my first martial arts tournament. I have only been learning taekgyeon since March, but I've mastered enough not to make a complete fool of myself in public. In fact, it's the realization that I've improved at something that was a complete mystery a mere three months ago that really made me happy, moreso even than winning a medal. Case in point, tonight, there was a new member at our dojang. He appears never to have studied taekgyeon before, so we had to go through all the warmups and kicking exercises slowly. As we did so, I had a flashback to my first taekgyeon class, and I remembered being completely lost and rather amused by my general incompetence.

But now, I'm a legitimate fellow athlete; I'm not worried about slowing down the others who have been training far longer, and I know exactly how I need to improve and what steps to take to get there. There are just a handful of things that I am proud at having accomplished in one year in Korea, but learning taekgyeon is, without a doubt, one of them.

"Haeundae Sand Festival Hooray"

At the 해운대모래축제, in front of a big sculpture featuring PSY! The word I'm blocking is "만세", which means "Hooray".

After a last-minute change of plans, I took a day trip to Busan today for the Haeundae Sand Festival (해운대 모래축제). I woke up at 7am and met up with friends from Changwon, and then we drove straight to Haeundae Beach, one of the most popular and well-known beaches in Korea. By some standards, it's not the best beach (and this is partly because it is one of the most popular -- and consequently the most crowded and most polluted during peak season), but it's still a great spot to spend a nice, summery day.

My friends and I wandered up and down the beach, admiring the large sand sculptures that were the main attraction of the festival. This year's theme is movies, so we saw Marilyn Monroe, E.T., Superman, Iron Man, and a host of other superheroes, and the iconic scene from Titanic. The sculptures were great, but I admit feeling a bit let down because I had imagined them to be flat-out amazing. I mean, just Google "sand sculpture", and then Google "Haeundae Sand Festival", and you'll see what I mean. Nonetheless, I enjoyed strolling along the beach and admiring the sights, and I was also glad that we were there early in the morning so that we could take photos in relative peace. Later on in the afternoon, the beach became insanely crowded.

One of my favorite sculptures was this one, based on Le Petit Prince.

We then settled down to play in the sand and water until noon. I got to work building a castle with a moat, trying only to use my feet since I don't like getting my hands dirty. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy building sandcastles. It's funny; I'm not really into creating a beautiful structure or even finishing the project. It's not about the end result. What I enjoy about sandcastles is the mindlessness of the endeavor, it seems. I dig and dig, and every so often a large wave rushes in and sweeps away half of my work. Well, no matter. Just keep digging. It's simple, meditative, and admittedly fruitless, but as long as I don't physically tire myself out, I could continue for hours. The castle was a purposeless project: water kept demolishing the walls, and eventually my friend's five-year-old came and rampaged all over the tower itself. But I quite enjoyed it all the same.

I will only mention in passing how this may or may not be a metaphor for life.

Andrew, Ben, and Ashley made a giant sea turtle with a volcano on its back as part of the amateur sand sculpture competition.

When Fulbrighters began to arrive on the scene starting at noon, we walked around the beach and enjoyed the sculptures, made one of our own, and watched beautiful people walking by. I also got some blueberry 빙수 at a cafe and watched bits of an airshow by the Black Eagles. Mostly, though, we just chilled under a beach umbrella. There were attempts to sunbathe, but Korea is generally conservative when it comes to beach attire, so I would have felt awkward about taking off my shirt. The beach became extremely crowded in the afternoon, yet ninety percent of the beachgoers were completely covered up, even if they were sleeping in the sun or dunking themselves completely underwater.

The thing about Korea and its no-shoulders, no-midriffs rule is that it's unspoken, enforced passively or subconsciously. An 아줌마 might give you a death glare or even some comments about your exposed shoulders, but nothing's really stopping you, unless you have an aversion to sticking out like a sore thumb. It's partly about modesty and partly about avoiding a tan at any cost, since fairer skin is generally considered more beautiful here. That doesn't mean there weren't some Korean women in bikinis or some Korean men so dark they looked Cambodian -- this is Busan, after all -- but for the most part, any person you saw less than fully clothed was a foreigner. And there were plenty roaming around the festival today, including my friends and me!

Fulbrighters at the beach! (Side note: I'm getting pretty good at this dSLR selfie (or 셀카/selca, as they say in Konglish) thing.

After lazing on the beach for a good few hours, it began to get colder and windier, so we headed inland to get dinner at a barbecue place. (I forget the name, but it was a forgettable restaurant, so no matter.) For dessert, we joined a very long line for 2,000₩ 32cm ice cream cones! That's $1.75 for an ice cream cone over one foot tall. They were great, although they began to melt very quickly, so we had to eat them quickly, so we all got brain freeze because it was cold and we were eating ice cream quickly. Ha! Good job, guys.

After dessert, I took a bus back to Changwon (the bus actually departs from the neighborhood, so I don't have to cross town to get to the main bus terminal first) -- for future reference, the ticket is 5,900₩ -- and arrived home at around 10pm. All in all, a great day. It really ushered in summer!

Anna, Ben, Katelyn, and Lizzie with giant ice cream cones!

Some vocabulary:

모래 (moleh) means "sand".

모래상을 쌓는게 명상적인 활동일 수 있어요. Building a sand castle can be a meditative activity.

바닷가 (padatga) means "beach" or "coast".

오늘 바닷가는 매우 복잡했어요. Today, the beach was very busy and crowded.

일광욕을 하다 (ilgwang-yogeul hada) means "to sunbathe".

제가 반나체에 대해서 많이 자의식이 강하지 않고 일광욕을 하면 좋겠어요. It would be great if I could sunbathe without being self-conscious about being half-naked.

Colors

멈춰라! 동성애혐오 "Stop homophobia!"

The 14th Korea Queer Festival (퀴어문화축제) kicked off with a parade around Hongdae on Saturday, June 1st, 2013. It was quite fun. I'll write more about it later -- too many papers to grade before tomorrow!

보성녹차축제 - Boseong Green Tea Festival

Last Saturday was 518 (오일팔/oh-il-pal), the anniversary of the Gwangju Democratization Movement that occurred on May 18th, 1980. I thought it would be interesting to see what was going on in the liberal and historically anti-American city of Gwangju on that day, but I didn't get a chance to visit the memorial or see any exhibits or events. Instead, I hopped on a bus headed south to Boseong (보성) for the penultimate day of the famous Green Tea Festival -- another spontaneous decision. It took me away from the big city, deep into the rural landscape that dominates most of Southern Jeolla Province. Way out there, I highly doubted anyone regularly crossed paths with foreigners, let alone harbored xenophobic attitudes toward them. In fact, Boseong is a tiny town that apparently heavily relies on tourism and graciously welcomes everyone to see its famous green tea fields.

보성녹차축제. The Boseong Green Tea Festival, nestled in the hills in rural South Jeolla Province.

Although I had been planning to meet up with fellow Fulbrighters at the festival, my phone ran out of batteries (one downside to spontaneous overnight trips: you never think about the small things, like charging electronics or bringing a toothbrush), so we hadn't communicated a time or place to meet. When I hopped off the bus at the festival grounds, I realized that I would just have to keep my eyes peeled for a group of foreign women. As I blend into a Korean crowd quite easily, I knew they'd have trouble if they were the ones looking for me.

Still, I took the time to take in the sights, and there was lots to see. The main attraction was a hillside covered in green tea shrubs and dotted with people stooping over to pick the leaves. The plants looked a bit worse for wear, since the festival had been going on for some time and tens of thousands of visitors must have trodden the hillside already. But it was still something I'd never seen before. I myself took a short walk along the hill and snapped some photos, but I didn't pick any leaves -- I was still trying to spot my friends.

Festival participants prepare tea leaves for brewing.

Other attractions included long rows of stalls selling all sorts of green tea (녹차/nokcha) products, which are, unsurprisingly, not limited to tea. There was green tea candy, green tea lotions, green tea ice cream, special ceramic and wooden teapots and teacups, and the plants themselves. In addition to this, there was the usual festival fare of food, cultural knickknacks, and anything hawkable, really.

After a bit of time wandering around alone, I made my way up a different hill to the performance area of the festival, where a large stage had been set up and many people were watching a troupe of 아줌마 dance. Here, I discovered more food stalls, some green energy and environmentalism exhibitions, and a large pavilion where people who had picked their own tea leaves could help cook, roll, and dry them to prepare them for actual brewing. And it was near this area where I finally found my Fulbright friends!

Together, we visited the tea museum, shopped for gifts, and just chatted and caught up. It was quite pleasant, overall, and I was indeed much happier to be experiencing the festival with friends instead of alone. After I'd been at the festival for about three hours, we took the bus back to Boseong, and then to Suncheon, where we ate a light dinner, and then I bused back to Masan, and then I bused back to Changwon. I was dead tired after all that travel, and I may or may not be absolutely sick of buses after this weekend! Okay, that's enough griping. Here are more photos!

An adorable diorama in the tea museum depicting tea taste testers at work.

Another exhibit in the tea museum. ₩1,000 entry for a relaxing visual walk through the history of tea in Korea, with limited English.

Alanna tries a sample of green tea. I ended up buying a small package of 세작 tea, which is made with relatively young leaves, for my homestay family. As it turns out, host mother prefers the variety that I bought! Score!

Hilary, Alanna, Amy, Payal, and me in front of the green tea fields (녹차밭).

P.S. Gwangju to Boseong is 1h30m (₩8,400); Boseong to the famous green tea fields is 20 minutes (₩1,100); then the return trip; Boseong to Suncheon is 1 hour (₩5,800); Suncheon to Masan is 1h40m (₩9,000); Masan to Changwon is 30 minutes (₩1,100). That's a lot of freakin' buses.

For any readers who need information about bus timetables and ticket prices, because that information is often hard to find on Korean websites, here's Suncheon Intercity Bus Terminal, Masan Intercity Bus Terminal, and Gwangju Combined Bus Terminal. Even Koreans take photos of timetables and ticket prices at the terminals themselves because the websites are so utterly impossible to navigate.

Kaya Cultural Festival

I had a great time with fellow Fulbrighters Brittany and Rachel today as we visited the Kaya Cultural Festival (가야문화축제) in Gimhae (김해). Kaya (or Gaya) is the name of an ancient Korean confederacy that was swallowed up by the Silla in the sixth century. The festival was partly a celebration of traditional Korean culture and partly a gathering for tons of foreign cultures to come and show off their food, art, and traditions, as well. The weather was a bit gloomy, but I suppose the approaching storm caused the winds to be better for kite-flying! More photos to come!

Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival Pt. 4: The Rest of the Fest

So... you know that willfully-plunging-into-freezing-cold-water thing I wrote about yesterday? Well, I just re-watched Titanic. Having second thoughts about trying it again.

Anyway! Here are some photos from the rest of the Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival, one of CNN's Seven Wonders of Winter! Besides fishing and more badass fishing, there were snow sculptures, ice slides, ice ATV-ing rinks, and a large "Ice Illumination Plaza" with beautiful ice art.

Katelyn on the outdoor ice slides.

Katelyn and me on the little ATVs. There were little kids driving things around pretty recklessly, and there was no need for a waiver form, even! (I mean, this is Korea.) I was driving pretty recklessly, too... but Katelyn was the one who did donuts on the ice! (Taken by Adam)

Lanterns hung along the town's streets.

Giant snow sculptures. Look, it's Snow White! (Get it?)

In the evening, some figure skating performances.

Inside the Ice Illumination Plaza, with dozens of amazing sculptures. Here's a horse from the Chinese Zodiac! (Taken by Ammy)

Ammy on more ice slides. These things are more fun than they look.

A bunch of terra cotta soldiers made of ice.

Katelyn, me, Ammy, Maggie, and Adam at the Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival.

As the day drew to a close, my friends and I all went back to Yuchon, pretty drained but having had a very fun and adventurous time. I'd say that the Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival ranks up there as one of my favorite festivals in Korea so far. Not that I've been to that many, but there was just so much great stuff to do that it kept us entertained and laughing all day long. I was hardly cold, honestly.

But the winter adventures didn't stop there! Next up: a day in Seoul and a skiing trip down south!

Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival Pt. 3: I've Been Colder

So there was this pool of freezing water with fish in it.

Like so.

For about eight bucks (for foreigners), you could have the once-in-a-lifetime experience of wading into the knee-high water and trying to catch fish with your bare hands. I say once-in-a-lifetime because most people only want to do it once.

Did I want to do it? You bet. Adam, Katelyn, Ammy, Maggie, and I all decided to take the plunge together, so to speak. We went into the locker room to change into the uniform of shorts and an orange t-shirt. We were supposed to tuck the t-shirt into our shorts, I soon learned, because the only method of storing fish after catching them was inside the shirt. Suddenly I began having doubts. And then we stepped outside, onto the ice, and I began having more doubts. And then I put my feet in the water and dang, it was cold.

I gave my camera to a bystander. I'm the one in the orange shirt, yelling something incomprehensible.

It was so cold when I stood on the ice that my feet hurt, so I sat down. And then my butt was so cold I couldn't wait to get off of it and into the water. But the water was so cold that my feet instantly went numb. I couldn't feel them after a few seconds, and it was all I could do to stay standing. My feet felt like blocks of ice, and they suddenly seemed very loathe to move where I wanted them to. The whistle blew and everyone was shouting and splashing around, and very soon people began catching fish. But I was just standing, hunched over and peering into the water but unable to see any fish, let alone catch them.

I felt excited, frustrated, and insane all at the same time (that's adrenaline interacting with the "flight" response). Adam and I kept yelling at each other, "WHERE ARE THE FISH? THERE ARE NO FISH!" Neither of us was successful in snagging anything, although Ammy and Katelyn caught one each. I figured out later that the trick was to "corner" fish up against the wall of the pond and then grab them, while I was out wading in the middle of the pond, looking stupid, no doubt.

Getting out of the pool was probably the worst part, because we had to walk on more ice to get to the hot tub that they'd prepared for the participants. I had to hobble over as if I had stumps for feet. But as soon as I warmed up, I was totally fine. It was too bad I didn't catch any fish, but I had an unforgettable experience all the same. (Plus, I'd already caught three from regular ice fishing before.)

Bare-hands ice fishing: this man caught a few fish. They're in his shirt.

Especially great was the fact that this was a shared insane experience with my friends. For the rest of winter, we decided that we were no longer ever eligible to complain of the cold. Whether we be skiing, stuck outside at night, or shoved into freezer naked, we can now say without uncertainty, "I've been colder." Adam insisted that there was a certain thrill to experiencing the most extreme of anything in one's lifetime, and for us, I guess this was the extreme of cold. You know, what, though... I might do it again. It may or may not have been good for our health, but it was a great way to remind ourselves that we're alive, dangit, and still young. Unlike the fish we caught.

Lastly, I need you all to see the excellent photo captured by the bystander to whom Maggie gave her camera, a moment that really tells you what the water felt like upon entering:

Maggie and Ammy begin their bare hands fishing adventure. Courtesy Maggie.

Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival Pt. 2: Sancheoneo

Sancheoneo (산천어/山川魚) is the Korean mountain trout. It's the fish for which we all fished at the Ice Fishing Festival. To make a long story short, I caught three! To make a short story long...

This is a Korean mountain trout, freshly caught!

When Adam, Katelyn, Ammy, and I arrived at the festival, we saw hundreds of people standing on a thickly frozen river, jerking small plastic fishing rods up and down over holes bored into the ice. It looked pretty funny, actually, but a lot of families had brought chairs and snacks and were making a picnic out of it.

We made our way up the river; nearly all of the festival activities were taking place on huge fields of ice. One section of the river was specially reserved for foreigners. We located an English-speaking festival guide to help get us oriented, and then got our gear and headed onto the ice.

As it turns out, ice fishing at this festival is quite simple. Pick a hole, drop your line into it, then wait patiently. If you want, you can jerk your line up and down with your rod to attract more fish, but, as we found out later, our frozen section of the river had already been pre-stocked with hundreds of fish, which made landing one almost a guarantee. It wasn't long before Katelyn made the first catch of the afternoon!

Katelyn caught the first fish!

The next catches came pretty soon after: I caught one, then Ammy caught one, then Adam caught one... it was thrilling in part because it was so easy. No real skill required! Just patience. In fact, after the initial harvest, the fish seemed to learn that there were four murderous foreigners on the ice above them, and nothing bit for the next half hour. I eventually caught two more, for a total of seven among the four of us.

Me, Adam, Ammy, and Katelyn with our bounty from the Ice Fishing Festival.

What did we then do with these fish? We ate them, of course! There were stations, or mini-restaurants, located all along the river where you could have your fish grilled in an oven or made into sashimi (eaten raw). My friends and I, hungry for a late lunch, did both. My lunch was literally trout and soju, nothing else. I will admit that I was very excited to be eating food that I had just caught. Yes, a part of me was squeamish or a bit sad that I had ended the short existence of a beautiful animal unceremoniously by eating it. But it was also a rare experience, I'd say, since I almost never go fishing. If you're going to eat meat, it's best to be as close to the source as possible, to handle killing and cooking it yourself if you can. (This way, you'll be convinced to go vegetarian. Haha, I kid.)

My sancheoneo, made into sashimi! It wasn't bad. Not terribly 맛있다, but it's not a typical sashimi fish, so I'm okay with it. The grilled version was better. (I even ate the eyeball...)

Me and the excitable Korean man. (Taken by Katelyn)

Some odd and inexplicable things happened during lunch. A table of loud, drunk Korean men not too far from us noticed this group of foreigners enjoying their fish, and decided to make our acquaintance. A man from their group came by to our table and motioned for me to go over to theirs. Then, he gave me a small paper cup and announced that we would do shots of soju together. What? I was so confused! And embarrassed. But there was no way for me to refuse, so I did a "love shot" (link arms before downing it) with this complete stranger, who seemed very pleased with himself and then said we'd do another. Soju's alcohol content is about four times greater than that of beer. He also fed me a piece of sashimi... By this time, other men in his group of friends had dragged Adam over to the table for shots, as well. All of us were so amused at this. Nothing like this has ever happened to me, not in Korea or anywhere else! Later, I went to get one of my grilled fish, and when I came back, the man had brought a bowl of live minnows over to our table, and he had just finished feeding them to my friends. Ick. But before I knew what was happening, he caught sight of me, grabbed a minnow, dipped it in red pepper sauce, and put it in my mouth, too. Yeah, so I ate a live minnow (and chased it down with more soju).

This man -- this complete stranger -- was a riot. He thought it was hilarious seeing our reactions to everything, and he must have been very excited to meet foreigners, after all, because he wanted to get a photo with Maggie and me before he left. He also gave us all his business card. And for all of us to just smile, laugh, and go along with everything? That's what it takes to build 정. When we are spontaneously thrust into weird cultural experiences, then, as long as there isn't really anything dangerous that could happen, why not, right? This is part of the job description: engage with Korea personally and build connections, even those fueled by soju. I'm sure the man came away with a more positive view of Americans (even though I didn't keep his card).

The poor things... But I did eat another one later.

Fishing! I can see now why my host brother likes it so much. As for myself, I enjoyed myself on the ice but had yet to steel myself for what was to come: bare hands fishing in freezing water... for next time!

Hey, I caught a fish!