Body and mind well-traveled

The 19th century English cleric and writer, Charles Caleb Colton, said that "those who visit foreign nations but associate only with their own country-men, change their climate but not their customs. They see new meridians but the same men, and with heads as empty as their pockets, return home with traveled bodies and untraveled minds". 

I read this quote on a friend's Facebook status a few days ago and it really got me thinking about my year in South Korea; how much of an effort I've made to integrate myself into society, if I have embraced the culture and how I have dealt with the challenges. I've come to the realisation that it has been a pretty 'fantastical' year of gesture and grunt perfection, falling in love with rice, mountain bonding, Korean tennis education, accepting of societal limits and frustrations, living in the last minute, and making friends from several countries and cultures.

Alongside my tennis team members, the children and students, my Korean contemporaries and especially the teachers at my main school; I have experienced a different culture, I have learnt more about respect and loyalty, I have explored Korean cuisine, I have lived.

Yesterday was a particularly poignant mountain moment. I was given a lift to school by the head teacher. Each teacher has a few days in the winter vacation when they have to come to school, so that there is always someone present in case of accident or incident. We spent the morning working on our respective projects. Just before lunch, some of the other teachers started arriving. What? Why? This was a grand surprise. Because it was a nice, sunny day and a break from the real winter weather, the head teacher had phoned some of the other teachers and urged them to drive to the mountains for a spot of tennis.

I think anyone would rather play tennis than sit at a desk staring at a computer. Hence, the jumps of joy that ensued. After a lunch of kimchi stew and rice wine, we were sufficiently satisfied and ready for an afternoon of outside activity.

During one of the many sets we played, a ball was hit over into the cornfield alongside our makeshift "clay" court. As my partner, the math teacher, went to fetch it, I stopped and closed my eyes for a minute. Dead silence. That was all. Not a bird or a cow, a car or a human voice; just five non-English speaking Korean men and me on a tennis court in the mountains of Sang-ok.

I don't stop often enough to think about how lucky I am. But at that moment, I looked back at my experience in the Korean peninsula and I thought that I shall, indeed, return to my home country body AND mind well-travelled.

Teachers, Tunnels and Tongyeong

“I just need to check with you if you’d like to go on a cultural trip on November 3 and 4? EPIK is organising the trip to Geoje Island for English teachers. You would miss two days of school,” said the co-teacher a month ago to the native English teacher (NET), application for the cultural trip in hand.

“Miss two days of school? That’s just terrible,” said the NET, “But, a cultural trip with other English teachers to ‘the second most beautiful island in Korea’? How can I say no?”

Organised by the Gyeongsangbukdo Office of Education for EPIK teachers “to experience and learn about Gyeongsangnam-do’s areas of historical interest”, the two-day trip was a welcome treat and a wonderful experience; if not for cultural reasons, certainly for seeing a beautiful region of Korea. We did not learn much about Korean culture, that's for sure.

Geoje Island is the second largest island in Korea as well as the “second most beautiful”, according to various sources, after the famous Jeju-do (recently voted one of the New 7 Wonders of the World). Situated at the centre of the southern coast of Gyeongnam province, it is very popular among tourists for its coastline, cliffs and mountains. Although Geoje is an island, it is connected to the mainland by train and buses. On Thursday, November 3, five buses, teeming with noisy NETs, left Daegu to find out what Geoje had to offer.

  

First stop was the recently-completed Geoga Bridge, which connects Gadeokdo Island in Busan with Jangmok-myeon in Geoje. According to english.busan.go.kr, the 8.2 kilometre bridge/tunnel project reduces the distance between Busan and Geoje from 140 to 60 kilometres and the travel time from two hours to just 40 minutes. According to several Koreans visiting the museum at the rest stop (before crossing Geoga Bridge), people are incredibly proud of the bridge-undersea tunnel link, the first of its kind in Korea and a great display of the country’s construction and engineering technology. It certainly makes travel circumstances from the mainland to the island much quicker and more convenient. In addition, driving through an undersea tunnel is quite an experience, no matter where you are in the world.

After a very generous buffet lunch at a restaurant in Geoje, the convoy continued its journey on the Tongyeong coastal road. The second stop for the day was at a site near Nambu-myeon, aptly named “Windy Hill” because there is an ever-present sea breeze. “Windy Hill” boasts an impressive windmill perched on a picturesque cliff, from which one has an extraordinary view of the fishing village below as well as the smaller, surrounding islands. It is apparently a famous site for the filming of movies and Korean TV programmes. It is certainly one of the prettiest places in Korea and a must-see for any tourist visiting Geoje. Thousands of photos were taken by the EPIK teachers, some with windmills in the background, others of the black goats roaming around and several of the beautiful sea views. Many people simply commented on how fresh and clean the air was in comparison with the places they lived.

A quick stop at a nearby pebble beach was next on the itinerary. Most NETs were interested to find out why the pebble beach is such a popular tourist attraction in Korea. In countries like England or America, where there are both pebble and sand beaches, the sand beaches are infinitely more popular. Apparently, these pebbles were imported specially. It is an attraction because it is so unique in a country of sandy beaches. All beach-goers were informed numerous times not to pick up or steal any pebbles, for there would be a heavy fine to pay.

As day one came to end, EPIK teachers were driven to their resting place for the night at the Tongyeong Bay Condo Resort, a well-located hotel overlooking the water. Most rooms had a glorious view of the bay and the balcony was hardly a bad place to watch the sun set. The rooms were spacious and very comfortable. We were treated to another fantastic buffet meal for dinner and a cold beverage to end a great day. It was a great opportunity for the teachers to meet their contemporaries from other cities and areas.

After a delicious breakfast on the morning of day two, the five EPIK buses departed for the port where everyone was to catch the ferry to Oedo, Korea’s first privately-owned island and home to approximately three thousand square metres of botanical gardens. For some, sea sickness took its toll on the ferry ride to the island but for most, the hour spent on Oedo was by far the best part of the EPIK trip. Beautifully landscaped with over seven hundred species of plants and Greco-Roman statues, the island seems to be designed to make one feel like one is in the Mediterranean. And looking at the photographs from that tour, one might believe that this is, in fact, true. There are excellent views of the surrounding coastline and the ‘greenness’ of the whole place is quite incredible. Although hardly a Korean cultural experience, Oedo is beautiful.

The idea for the botanical gardens was conceived by a Lee Chang-ho and his wife after they settled on the island in the 1960s. After unsuccessful attempts and tangerine and swine farming, they decided to transform the island into marine western-style botanical gardens. Sadly, each tour group may only spend a short time on the island. Otherwise, it would be a wonderful place to spend the day, take a picnic and soak up the abundance of nature, which one does not often find in Korea. Fortunately for the ill, the ferry ride back to Geoje seemed so much quicker than the ride there. After yet another visit to the lunch buffet, all concerned were ready for both a diet and the long trip back to Daegu.

Throughout the two-day trip, it was evident to see that the marine tourism city of Geoje is alive with traditional history as well as having a ‘buzzing’ city life, due to thriving tourism and shipbuilding industries. And a destination not to be missed on anyone’s ‘Visit Korea’ itinerary.

“How was your trip to Geoje?” the co-teacher asked the following Monday morning.

“What a wonderful break, thank you. We saw some really beautiful sites in Korea. I’ll have to return to Geoje one day because there is so much to see. I am very happy I decided to go. EPIK really spoilt us!” said the NET, refreshed and smiling, “And how was school?”

“School was school,” said the co-teacher. 

우연히 행복해지다

"Suddenly, I am happy." This was exactly my thought as I left a little theatre in Daegu city on Sunday afternoon. It is also the English translation of the title of this blog and the name of the concert musical which made me 'oh so' joyful.

A few weeks ago, I got a surprise phone call from a Korean English teacher from one of the other branch schools in the area. She invited me to watch a Korean musical in her home town. It turned out to be one of the best afternoons I have had in Korea. Below, please find part of the letter I sent to the theatre company:

"To members of the cast and production team of "Suddenly, I'm Happy!"

I am a native English teacher from South Africa. I have been in South Korea for only a few months. I felt surprised and rather honoured to be invited by a friend to watch your play last Sunday in Daegu. I had no idea what to expect and was rather concerned that I would not understand the story as I know so little of the Korean language. My friend gave me a summary of the story, with the characters' names and the basic plot, so I would be able to follow more easily.

Even without the summary, I would have been able to follow the story line because the acting, singing, movement and comedy were of such high quality. Every audience member was enthralled from the very beginning to the very end. I have watched many musicals in South Africa, England (West End) and South Korea. Never have I seen such energy and charisma throughout a performance. I smiled and laughed the whole way through and was simply blown away by the brilliance of it all. I would like to pass on my congratulations to all the actors, organisers and production team for putting on an incredible show. It just shows that language is not the only way to connect and communicate with people.

I was equally impressed with the attitude of the actors after the show; they shook hands with every audience member and there was an opportunity to take photos with the cast after the performance. All this extra effort added to the wonderful experience. As a foreigner in South Korea, I would like to thank you for a wonderful afternoon of theatre and entertainment."

It is amazing how a few hours can change your attitude and perk you up for the week ahead. I was just so impressed. Everything in life happens for a reason; if only to make one take a step back, take a look and oneself and realise that life is actually a wonderful thing, if we remember to enjoy it!

Saigon: the acoustic version

Our arrival in Ho Chi Minh city, Vietnam, marked the end of a 16-hour bus journey from Siem Reap, Cambodia. Dirt and tar roads interlaced; potholes; broken, fogged-up windows; sweat; dodgy food stops and a two-hour wait at the border (it only opens at 7am). We did sleep remarkably well in the cramped space, however, which promised good things for our first day in Vietnam's biggest city.

Hopping off the bus, in desperate need of a shower and nourishment, we were approached by several bed and breakfast owners looking for possible customers. (We hadn't booked accommodation for Ho Chi Minh city after being assured there were hundreds of backpackers in the near vicinity to District 1, where the action was.) We followed a man who promised a wonderful deal of a double air-conditioned room for a mere US$5. It didn't look so wonderful when we actually arrived, and we apologised to the man and went on our way. Right across the street, however, we found Thien Hong; a family-run guest house. Although more expensive, there was hot water, clean sheets, sweet coffee in the mornings and smiling faces. We left our shoes at the door, literally, and never looked back.

To get from the main street to Thien Hong was an experience each and every time; a hair-raising walk through the alleys of people's homes, half-naked men and women, daily washing hung from one wall to the other, meat-cutting (make-shift butcheries run from the tiny apartments), chicken heads, screaming children, hooting scooters, litter and rather alarming 'aromas'. But this was Ho Chi Minh central - District 1; backpackers and travel agents on every corner, and restaurants and bars everywhere in between. And I was in my element.

After the much-needed cleansing process, we set out to find food, beer and excitement. We were drawn to an establishment called Allez-Boo; set on a street corner, built entirely from bamboo and filled with people. Couldn't go wrong there, we thought. We ordered 333 beer (strongly recommended by my head teacher in Korea), fish cakes with lemon grass, caramelised beef with rice and fruit smoothies for pudding.

Unfortunately, this happened to be our first tourist mistake in Vietnam. Unlike for Cambodia, when I had checked the exchange rate before leaving Korea, I hadn't done so for the Vietnamese dong. It turned out that Allez-Boo was one of the few really expensive restaurants in the city. Thus, we left with full stomachs and very empty pockets.

Our exploration of the city centre was interrupted by the afternoon rain, which was far too strong for the umbrellas we'd borrowed from the guest house. We abandoned the umbrellas in a nearby coffee shop and ran through the streets, past thousands of scooters, vendors selling their wares of postcards and other totally useless bits and bobs. On the way back to the guest house, we booked tickets for a water puppet show and a cruise along the Saigon river. Built on the banks of the river, Ho Chi Minh city was originally named Saigon, when it was the capital of the French colony, Cochin-China. and later of the independent state of South Vietnam. It was officially renamed Ho Chi Minh city after the contradictory but widely respected leader of North Vietnam. (Vietnam has been a unified country since 1975.) Our guide from the travel agency explained to our minibus that "old people in Vietnam call it Saigon and the young people call it Ho Chi Minh. Anything is fine, we just love it!"

The travel agency was none other than "Friends Tourist". And friendly they were, transporting us by taxi to and from the show and cruise ship because it was raining. The show was impressive as the puppeteers operate the puppets from underneath the water, acting out stories of traditional Korean life; complete with dragons, boats, live music and singing. The river cruise involved seven courses of food, red wine, traditional musical entertainment and views of the lights and life on the river bank from the water. It was truly an evening to remember.

After a undisturbed sleep at Thien Hong, we headed off early in the morning for our day trip to the Mekong Delta. This was to be the highlight of our time in the south of Vietnam. The delta, as a region, lies to the west of Ho Chi Minh city. It is known as Vietnam's "rice basket" because it produces enough rice each year to feed the whole country and then some. Lonely Planet describes the Mekong Delta as "a watery landscape of green fields and sleepy villages, everywhere crisscrossed by the brown canals and rivulets fed by the mighty Mekong river" (www.lonelyplanet.com). And the river is indeed mighty, it has two daily tides.


Although the region is rural, it is one of the most densely populated areas in Vietnam and every single piece of available land is farmed. The locals are said to friendly and easygoing, according to the guide books, but we saw differently. Only some of the "islands" are tourist-friendly, the inhabitants of others have asked instead to be left alone to live in peace. Our tour group hopped off the main boat and, in groups of four, were steered by locals in canoes along some of rivulets to a small island. We wore conical hats and took wonderful photos. Unfortunately, half way, the afternoon rains erupted. By the time we arrived at the island, we were sopping wet but still in high spirits. The thin raincoats acquired on shore were a little too late.


At a little restaurant gazebo, we were entertained with traditional singing and served honey tea and fruits of the island; pineapple and chilli salt, papaya, dragonfruit and some strange berries which tasted like overripe (almost fermenting) grapes. We sat at a table with four Scots, who were on a trip around South-east Asia, after a stint in Australia. We listened to their tales of Thailand and Laos with envious ears.

Out came the boa constrictor and a hive of bees for people to take photos with. We stayed far away. I even had a shot of banana wine, which tastes like pure ethanol, to calm the nerves. Lunch consisted of island-bred chicken, rice and boiled vegetables. We had the unfortunate opportunity of sitting with the most ignorant person on earth. She was from Israel and did the whole, "But how can you be from Africa if you have white skin?" thing. I cringed, gripped the table, and said, "colonialism". Frighteningly, she had been working at an orphanage in Cambodia for a month. I'd hate to know what she taught the poor children about. The 333 beer got us through that meal.

After lunch, we went for a walk to the where the coconut candy is produced. We watched the process, which is done by hand and duly contributed to the economy of the island. On the way to the bathroom, we bumped into a water buffalo sitting in the foliage.

The trip home in wet clothes was hardly pleasant but after a shower, several glasses of Vietnam's Dalat red wine and delicious supper at "Happy Life" restaurant, we met up with Scots and some wild men from Ireland for an evening of dancing to Justin Bieber's "Baby", Miriam Makeba's "Pata Pata", "Piano Man", Nollywood rap songs and several "Waka wakas" at the Lien Coffee Bar. The said bar was transformed into a dance floor crowded with South African, Nigerian, Scottish, Irish, Greek, Italian and Chilean twenty-somethings. Our one and only party in Vietnam proved to be a magical end to our Saigon experience. The next morning, it proved to be the end of my relationship with that drink made from potatoes, vodka.

After a thrilling two and a half days in Saigon, I left Thien Hong guest house with a huge hungover smile on my face, a sweet cup of coffee in my hand and lacking three pairs of shoes (which I'd left at the door).

Angkor: The Holy City

Words cannot do justice to the beauty of Angkor, which literally translates to 'Holy City' or 'Capital City'. The temples of Angkor provide a journey back in time; to an ancient world of kings, empires, regal architecture and life constructed around the religion and beliefs of the day.

The town of Siem Reap serves as the gateway to the ruins of the ancient Khmer Empire, which thrived between the ninth and twelfth centuries AD. 'Khmer' refers to the "dominant ethnic group in modern and ancient Cambodia" (The Siem Reap Angkor Visitors Guide, 2011). In the area of Siem Reap, one will find temple ruins; the remnants of the ancient 'Angkorian' capitals. These ruins represent the height of Khmer architecture, art and civilisation; when the area had a population of more than a million, when the Khmer kings ordered the building of grandiose temples and advanced water systems and Angkor was dominant over Cambodia and large areas of Thailand, Vietnam and Laos in military, economy and culture (The Siem Reap Angkor Visitors Guide, 2011).

The Angkor Archaeological Park had been designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, and the best-known ruins of Bayon, Ta Prohm and Angkor Wat put it on par with the great wonders of the world. The area of Siem Reap has been hosting foreign visitors to the ruins for over a hundred years. And the Khmer people, descendants of those who lived in the ancient capitals, welcome visitors with open arms.

If you fly to Siem Reap, like we did, you will arrive at the most quaint of airports; a beautifully designed one-story building with terracotta roof tiles and surrounded by palm trees. One automatically feels the effects of a relaxed environment. Tuc-tucs (the popular mode of transport in Siem Reap) await to 'chug' you into town along the airport road; a parade of make-shift, red plastic chair restaurants, chickens, 5-star Angkor hotels and Coca Cola umbrellas. (Isn't it amazing that Coca Cola seems to have reached every place in the world?)

We booked our first night's accommodation at The Palm Garden Lodge, a very cheap bed and breakfast near the town centre. Our tuc-tuc driver took us along the town's main road, which was relatively tarred and wide, but we soon turned off onto dirt roads with giant potholes, street cafes boasting meals of chicken heads, hair dressers, scooters and smiling pedestrians. Palm Garden was near the end of a narrow road and we were greeted by Adan, the manager of the accommodation. We were pleasantly surprised by the hospitality and cleanliness of the place. With no time to waste, after a quick shower, we headed to town by Palm Garden tuc-tuc to explore the Night Market and find a bit of light supper. Siem Reap's Night Market is a coming together of class, colour, vibrance and excitement. In between the stalls of hand-sewn handbags, headbands, landscape paintings and beautiful dresses, one finds fish pedicures with "complimentary beers" and gorgeous gazebo bars. Island Bar's beef and lemongrass stew and fresh spring rolls did the trick. Once we'd eaten and flattened a couple Anchor beers, we were ready for a good sleep before our 4:30am departure to witness sunrise at Angkor Wat.

If you manage to make sunrise or sunset at Angkor Wat (most visits to the temples are centered around this temple), you won't be disappointed. We managed to make it in time for sunrise. We watched from the northern reflecting pool in front of the massive three-tiered pyramid. As the visitors' guide (2011) says, "the visual impact of Angkor Wat, particularly on one's first visit, is awesome...like a giant postcard photo against the sky". The sun rises behind the temple so that all one can see is a silhouette of its towers against the early morning light.

The temples of Angkor deserve weeks of exploration. They "vary in importance, interest and condition and are spread over a large area, often kilometres apart" (The Siem Reap Angkor Visitors Guide, 2011). For even the most uninterested visitor, each ruin offers something completely different. But if you only have a limited period of time, like we did, it is recommended that you make sure to see the South Gate of Angkor Thom, the last capital of the Angkorian empire; Central Angkor Thom (Bayon, Terrace of the Elephants, Terrace of the Leper King); Ta Prohm, a huge monastic complex; and Angkor Wat, constructed in dedication to the Hindu god, Vishnu.

We traveled to Siem Reap at the end of July, which means it's the hot/rain reason. And there is no escaping the humidity. Fortunately, refreshments, notably cold beers, are available from vendors throughout the Park, along with books, postcards and food. The temples are really too far to walk (even though the mad few do 'hike' it anyway), and so we made use of a tuc-tuc for the day, which was a wonderful way to travel through the temple complex. Our weary feet were given a rest in between temples but we could still feel the fresh air and experience the scenery properly.

On our return to Siem Reap town proper, we found a fantastic local restaurant with plastic table cloths and lime green, roughly-painted walls. We ordered delicious prawn and coconut curry with basmati rice and banana pancakes for dessert. Our bill for three came to the grand total of $10 including drinks; a steal.

Siem Reap offers a little something for every kind of person. It is a place still getting used to the influx of foreign visitors; which means the locals are polite and excited to meet you (even if only to make a quick dollar), they appreciate it if you make an effort to learn a couple Khmer words, like 'hello' and 'thank you' and they are proud of how far they have come. One can't be sure how long it will stay this way. But for now, Cambodia is certainly the destination in south-east Asia, a destination you won't regret ticking off on your bucket list. Siem Reap certainly stole the heart of my traveling group. Two days: far too short. This place needs time...I long to return one day.

*A one month tourist visa for Cambodia can be obtained on arrival at the international airports in Siem Reap and Phnom Penh for US$20.

Tata Madiba...

"Today is not a holiday but a day dedicated to service."

This is the wish of Nelson Mandela, former president of South Africa.

The 18th of July, International Mandela Day, as it is known the world over, is not only a celebration of the birthday of one of the greatest men alive. It is also a day of celebration for the people of the country; a celebration of the triumph of her people.

Nelson Mandela, or Madiba (his clan name) as he is affectionately known spent 67 years of his life fighting for a better South Africa and a better world. In South Africa today, citizens were urged to give 67 minutes of their time to their community; whether it be visiting a home for the elderly, painting a school, building a house or walking a dog at the SPCA. It was to be a day dedicated to service.

South Africans abroad also tried to put their time into creating awareness about the special day, helping friends or spending time on other projects to do with South Africa.

Days like these are the days where South Africans remember what is really important.

As present leader of South Africa, Jacob Zuma, said today in a speech broadcast on SABC radio stations, "Let each one of us pledge to make South Africa a better place in every possible way".

Happy Birthday, Madiba. And thank you for being a constant reminder that nothing is impossible.

"Circus of the Sun"

"Wherever the road may take us, the same desire drives us on: to bring hope to everyone who journeys with us."
These are the words of Guy Laliberte, guide and founder of Cirque du Soleil (which translates to "Circus if the Sun" in English). And it is a goal that was certainly met the night my friends and I watched the show; an astounding production from start to finish, an escape from the real world, a magical experience.

The Cirque du Soleil franchise rose from a troupe of young street performers in Quebec, Canada in 1982. They mixed with the crowd of tourists, artists and collectors in Baie-Saint-Paul, the Mecca for Quebec painters (according to the Varekai Official Programme), walking on stilts and blowing fire. From that moment on, Guy Laliberte, then one of the fire-breathing stilt-walkers, and his contemporaries began the dream of a fantastic journey: to take the Cirque du Soleil troupe around the world.

Since 1985, the troupe began traveling and has performed 28 different themes. Varekai has been seen by over six million people in over 60 cities in over 12 countries since it's debut in 2002. It is a story about destiny and follows the theme of "Wherever the wind carries you, you'll always be home". The 56 performers come from all over the world, from Georgia to Belarus to Italy.

Through some lucky booking, we attained front row seats. Although they were on the side of the stage, we could see almost everything, from every make-up detail and character expression to the scales on a lizard creature's back. Varekai takes place in a deep, dark forest. A firefly flitters about in the sky and a warm wind blows as the sky begins to open. And then you can feel yourself being swept up into another world of music, magic and mischief, only to wake up when the circus tents lights are turned on at the end of the show.

We were all in awe from the minute the show started. Every costume, prop, movement, dance, magic trick, song, comedic stunt was almost perfect, gravity defying, dream-like. There was something for everyone; from the smallest child to the oldest Korean haloboji (grandfather) to the art critic to the general audience member. There were boys performing with water meteors, young men moving in the air grace personified, acrobats doing quadruple somersaults with no nets, hats being juggled, a young woman who moved in supernatural ways and a romantic plot to boot.

Cirque du Soleil does not use animals in any of their shows, which is entirely refreshing. And the animals are not missed. We could have all watched the show for many more hours. The band must receive special mention for without the wondrous music, the show would have missed the mood and emotion setter. Whether with vocals or only instrumental, the score was hauntingly brilliant.

One of the expressions in the show programme reads: "With a little luck, you won't find what you're looking for." Every single twist in the show was unexpected and better than the scene before.

Dominique Champagne, writer and director of Cirque du Soleil: Varekai, wrote the following in the show's programme, words that have stayed with me since those glorious few hours in May:
"Since these are crazy times and it is our duty not to surrender the world into the hands of fools. May this show be for you as it has been for me, a celebration of the coming together of brothers and sisters and of the joy of challenging limits.
Let yourself be swept away by the courage and beauty of these acrobats, dancers and actors who, every day, wherever the wind may take them, risk their lives trying to attain the sublime, to touch the sky, to defy the law of gravity and to dance in the fires of volcanoes...
So that they can tell the world that something else is possible."

Hope springs eternal, doesn't it just?

The Hands of Living Mutually

The city of Pohang is famous (okay maybe that’s pushing it), Pohang is well-known for two things mainly; Asia’s most profitable steel mill, POSCO, and for the abundance of seafood (easily seen at Jukdo Market where every species of fish, crustacean and seaweed abound). On every street and alleyway, there is a seafood restaurant (not of my culinary taste – raw, moving, alive squid and catfish are a real treat here).

But Pohang has a third, lesser known tourist treasure. Well beyond the smoke and haze of the POSCO factory, lies a small fishing village, Homigot, on the east of the city. While the beaches in this little town aren’t the most beautiful and are too rocky for swimming, there is a piece of art worth seeing; the “Hands of Living Mutually” or “Hands of Harmony” as they are better known.

These are two massive bronze and granite sculptures of hands stretching up to the sky. The oddity in the situation is that the one hand (the right hand) stretches up from the water in a small cove. And the second bronze hand (the left and of equal proportion) stretches up from dry land on the Homigot Sunrise Square. The hand in the water is the main attraction, particularly at sunrise, when the sun seems to be rising through the fingers of the hand. As Homigot is on the east coast, the sun rises here first in Korea.

Apparently, the hands were constructed in 1999 “to symbolize continuing efforts of all Korean citizens to pursue a better quality of life” (www.frikworld.com). This charming little place is a bit of an absurd tourist magnet. Photographers from all over the country come to take pictures of the sun rising through the fingers of the hand. Some use cellphones, others are professionals. Some will even venture into the water to be closer to the Hand and prove they were really there.

A couple friends and I decided to visit Homigot on a day off. We didn’t make the sunrise, of course. I am not sure what I was expecting but I was a little disappointed by the Hands of Harmony. It is obviously a fantastic artistic concept and quite a sight to behold, this hand stretching up from the ocean. But the Hand was really only a few metres from the shore and it wasn’t nearly as big as I had expected. Beyond the Hand though, stretched the ocean as far as the eye can see. We had a little childish fun scrambling over the rocks and taking silly pictures. The water was also pleasantly warm.

According to the locals and some blogs, New Year's Eve is presumably the best time to visit as there are fireworks and the Homigot National Sunrise Festival runs until 7:30am. Some people go during summer, when the weather is more pleasant. There are hotels scattered around the place and they are in walking distance but some visitors bring a sleeping bag, insect repellant and some soju to get them through to sunrise.

A good one and a half hour bus ride from the Intercity Bus Station or an expensive cab ride away, visiting the Hands of Harmony is a pleasant outing, whether one visits during the day or to watch the sunrise. There is a lighthouse and museum in the vicinity as well as some tourist stores, seafood eateries and several little food and beverage stalls. Don’t buy the roasted chestnuts though, they are expensive and not at all worth it (from experience). A slush puppy is definitely recommendable.

And it is one of the places you just have to see in Pohang city…

Tennis makes memories...

My limited experience of Korean tennis has taken place in the mountains (where I work) and at one tournament in the city. Overall, it has been most surprising, decidedly enjoyable and a little strange, to say the least.

When I arrived at my main school in a little village in the mountains, it was winter and not very pretty. The school is relatively small, with the big field in front and outbuildings at the back, where teachers can stay overnight. The caretaker of the school stays there permanently. There are also the "toilets". What I did notice was a dilapidated old gravel tennis court behind the janitor’s house. I assumed that no one used the court anymore and that it had been left to ruin.

March and most of April passed by in flurry of stress, miscommunication and traveling. I hadn’t thought of tennis at all. After all, I hadn’t really played in England and I suppose I hadn’t expected to play much in Korea either. But in mid-April as the blossoms began to show and the trees and grass got a little greener, I noticed some of the teachers heading over to the tennis court. Next thing, they were rolling the court (which is literally made of sand, similar to beach sand) over and over to compress the soil. Then, the net went up (it is far too high but there is nowhere to attach it at the centre) and the lines were painted with chalk. I couldn’t believe it.

The men obviously assumed I didn’t play tennis, for when I told them I could, they were incredibly excited! I still don’t think they thought I could actually play properly, for when I hit the court one day, all the students were allowed to come and watch me for a few minutes. This never happens in Korea. Academics come first, always, no exceptions. So this must have been a BIG deal. The next day, the teachers even started to call me “Tennis Ace” in the corridors.

When we first started to play tennis after lessons, the other teachers were very rusty. But over time and with much practice, everyone has greatly improved. The music teacher has a ‘killer’ volley and smashing skills; the Korean teacher is a master of touch and with practice, has clearly shown he is by far the best player at the school; the vice principal must have been brilliant in his heyday, he still has the forehand to show for it; the math teacher is young and keen to learn, he picked up the backhand slice after only a few attempts. He has a wonderful style.

In the last few weeks, my main co-teacher, who is just starting out, bought a new Babolat racquet. The school bought a box of tennis balls the other day. And the head teacher and sport teacher headed off into the mountains yesterday and came back with a truckload of red clay to add to our “beach court” (as I affectionately name it).

The court is obviously very uneven as we do not have professionals rolling and measuring for us. In some places, the balls bounce and in others, they do not. If it rains, the ground is saturated and actually dangerous to play on. We do, anyway. As I said, the net is about 10 inches too high and there are no proper fences so the balls get lost on a regular basis. But as the vice principal says: “Same conditions for all!” And so we get on with it.

At the end of April, my school entered six of us into the Pohang City interschool tournament. My little school had great aspirations with me on the team but unfortunately, it was a doubles tournament and I couldn’t win alone, although the Korean teacher and I came very close. (Doubles seems to be the main form of the game, probably due to the lack of tennis courts)

I was one of three women present and the only foreigner. This created much fuss and it also meant that there were many people watching our court. My mother and a few others will know that I am not very good under pressure and even worse when there are people watching. I managed to keep my cool though and I played a good game. We may have even won our second match if we had played the usual ‘best of three sets’ format.

Korean tennis etiquette is truly something to behold and is probably my favourite part of tennis in this country. When both couples are ready to commence the match, all four players walk to the net and bow and shake hands as a sign of respect for each other. On completing the set, all four players walk to the net and bow and shake hands once more.

There is no such thing as the spinning of the racquet (rough or smooth, up or down, W or M, p or d). One person from each couple with do “rock, paper, scissors” to determine the winner. The winner can then choose to serve of receive. Whichever side you warmed/knocked up on, that is the side you remain on. Before serving the first ball of every game, the server will greet the receiver when he serves to them: “Annyeong-haseyo!” (Good day!/ Hello!) I suppose this is similar to what I would say at home: “Enjoy the match!”

The scoring is my favourite. In tennis scoring, we use “fifteen, thirty, forty, deuce, advantage”. If we are to shorten the score when playing social, we use the abbreviations “five-thirty”, “thirty-forts”, “your ad” etc. Here in Korea, they say (and it makes much more sense, if you ask me) “fi-thir”, “for-thir”, “service” (server’s advantage) and “receive” (reciever’s advantage).

Thank goodness I can play tennis. It has saved my soul here in the mountains. Sometimes, I’ll only play once a week (as most of my lessons are in the late afternoon right before we go home) or sometimes, I shan’t play at all. But sport, like music, is common ground. It is a form of communication all by itself. I always say it and I shall say it again; without sport (and in particular, the game of tennis), I would have far less wonderful memories and far less friends…

Gyeongju - the "Museum without Walls"

Gyeongju is, without doubt, one of the most spectacular places I have been to. I had little trouble seeing why it had been nicknamed the "Museum without walls". One can literally walk, in open air, through all the cultural and historical wonders at leisure. If one lives closeby, like I do, it is the perfect day trip in good weather. And most of the sites-to-see are within walking distance of each other.

On this particular Sunday, I was not in the best condition health-wise and I did not get to Gyeongju early enough in the morning. But I saw as much as possible in the time I was there, guided by some friends who live in the area. It was a delightful, cultural day in the sun...

Gyeongju was the capital of the Silla Kingdom, the longest surviving kingdom in the country, for nearly a thousand years (BC 57-935) and has a vast amount of historical and cultural heritage. UNESCO has designated Gyeongju as a World Heritage site (http://english.visitkorea.or.kr/). After visiting this fascinating place, this is hardly surprising and one can see why it is one of South Korea's biggest tourist attractions, even a millenium after the demise of the Silla dynasty.

According to the Korea's official tourism site, Gyeongju is the nation's most popular fieldtrip destination. (In fact, one of my schools' fieldtrip is to Gyeongju next week.) Ponds, tombs, mountains, temples, grottos, observatories and museums abound in this amazing place. It is also home to many of the greatest Buddhist treasures in Korea.

Cheonmachong Tomb (Tumuli Park) is home to ancient tombs of kings and noblemen of the Silla Dynasty. There are 23 tombs in total, the most famous being Cheonmachong and Hwangnamdaechong. Inside the tombs, relics can be seen from a time long past; remains, crowns and other gold accessories.

Gyeongju also boasts Cheomseongdae, the oldest existing atronomical observatory in Asia (http://english.visitkorea.or.kr/). According to the visitkorea site, it was originally designed to look to the stars as a means to forecast the weather. As one of Korea's national treasures, it is quite an impressive site up close.

What Gyeongju is most famous for amongst us foreigners, is the cherry blossoms in springtime. There is a definite window period to see the blossoms, however, as they last in Gyeonju for only two weeks. My trip to Gyeongju was at the end of the two weeks. Sadly, there was only one tree still cherry-blossoming in Tumuli Park. We certainly made the most of it by taking hundreds of pictures. The cherry blossoms at this time of year are absolutely beautiful.

So are the flowers in springtime, something Gyeongju certainly does not lack.

These particular flowers did not smell pleasant, hence the hilarity of the situation...

There are several places in Gyeongju to see some of the traditional Korean buildings and temples. The woodwork and designs of these buildings is something to behold.

Gyeongju "Museum" is certainly a place I will be visiting again, for its temples, a paddle around Bomun Lake and trip back a thousand years. Truly remarkable, I tell you.

The madness continues - April 15 to 17...

Once you realise that time flies in South Korea, you also come to realise that a year is not that long, actually, and that if you don't hurry up, you won't see everything you want to see before you leave the country. On the weekends, there is no time to rest or catch up with your writing and no time to stay at home and recover from a heavy week. There is exploration to be done and fun to be had and thus, the madness continues weekly; it's a cycle of non-stop movement, travel and happy exhaustion...

On April 15th, I planned to go and visit a friend, Bells, in Gyeongsan, about an hour and half by bus from Pohang city. From Heung-hae to Pohang, it is at least a 45 minute bus. So, all in all, the trip takes a good two hours. We had arranged to meet for supper and have an early night. Well, as Murphy is my dearest friend, my co-teachers decided to leave school an hour late. For most, this would be a minor setback in the evening's plans. For me, it was a giant hurdle, for I work in the mountains. This means:
- the carpool must drive back to Heung-hae (45 to 50 minutes depending on traffic),
- I must walk to my apartment from the drop-off location (approximately 15 minutes),
- I must collect and pack my belongings (10 minutes),
- I must walk to the bus stop (which I just passed on the way home) and wait for a bus to arrive (anywhere between 10 and 30 minutes),
- I must catch the bus to Heung-hae (45 minutes),
- I must buy a ticket for Gyeongsan and wait for the next bus to leave (average time for waiting + trip = 2 hours).
Therefore, total time travelling = minimum 4 hours = mission.

If I had got the right bus, I would have been there for supper at 20:30ish. Alas, I only got the 20:20 bus and only arrived in Gyeongsan at a mild 21:40. It ended up being quite a late supper, to say the least. Bells and I headed to the student area called Yeungnam, where the University is situated. Our "quiet supper" started very well; we went to a little bar/restaurant and ordered rice and pork and a pitcher of beer. As we were thinking of leaving, we started a conversation with a couple of young students to our left. They offered us a shot of a drink called Chong-ha, which is similar to Japanese saki (wine). Bells looked at me from across the table and said: "You know that if you accept that drink, we will never leave this place." And I said: "Oh no, rubbish. It's just one little drink." Well, the night did not end. We made friends with everyone in the establishment, I spoke every Korean word I have learnt since my February arrival. Our last stop was at a noraebang - a karaoke/singing room - with some of our new-found friends. It was a fantastic Korean experience, truly fantastic!

Saturday was difficult, to say the least. But we managed to wake rather early and head to Daegu. Gyeongsan is a relatively small place in Korean terms but it is also a semi-suburb of Daegu, a very large and happening city. Daegu is all lights and shopping, restaurants and tall buildings. I managed to purchase a desperately-needed sports cap and a handbag and we caught a bit of an outside concert for charity. The highlight was the finding of a little second-hand shop on the way to the subway. It was a lovely day, indeed.

In the late afternoon on Saturday, Bells and I took the bus to Pohang. It was the perfect time of day for a scenic trip through the rural areas; the light was soft and made the mountains and farming fields look movie-worthy. We listened to depressing love-loss, heart-break music and enjoyed the break in the madness.

After one hell of a good party, we woke up on Sunday for our trip to Gyeonju. Gyeonju is 30 to 40 minutes by bus from Pohang. This little place is full of absolute wonder. It isn't called the 'Outside Museum' for nothing. We had a glorious day, despite the aching headaches, in the sun and in the tombs and under the cherry blossoms and amongst the Spring flowers. A truly cultural experience for once...

Meet Mozi...

Seoul, the capital city of South Korea, is an awe-inspiring, frightening, wonderful, deathly, life-changing place. I shall never be the same again after my visit there on 25 to 27 March. Never the same.

That weekend symbolises the first pay day, the first big trip to Seoul and the reunion of hundreds of Korean English teachers. It was EPIC (no pun intended)! Most of us newbies' tanks were running rather low on Won by 25 March and were desperately in need of a bank account re-fuel.

The epic trip actually began in little Pohang on the Korean east coast, about a thirty minute bus ride from where I live in Heung-hae. Hopping onto the 6:30 pm Pohang-to-Seoul bus, I had serious second thoughts about a five-hour trip after a long week at school. Five of us left from the Pohang Express Bus Terminal, beer and soju in hand to make the trip seem a little shorter. By hour three, I was so tired, I had to take a little nap. It was an incredibly bad idea as when I had to wake up, I was grumpy, cold and unhappy. I had to nudge Scotty every few minutes to keep him from drifting back into 'lala' land. When we arrived at the hostel after an hour-long subway trip after the five-hour bus trip, I was actually ready to simply curl up in bed. It was not to be, however, as the rest of Team Awesome (Claricle, Tashalicious, Kaitles, Christoffle and Hells Bells) were waiting for Scotty and I to arrive. We met the eighth member of the Seoul crew, Jo, also trying to find her way to the hostel. And our Seoul trip began properly at 1am on Saturday morning...

Frightening...South Korea has a population of approximately 49 million people. Well over 10 million of those people live in just one city: the capital, Seoul. It is a frighteningly busy place; there are people everywhere all the time. The subways are full, the streets are crowded and there is never an empty restaurant. The Pohang crowd arrived in Hong-dae, the student area where our hostel was, at 1am. When we walked out of the subway exit, there were so many people. Thanks to Claricle and her excellent map, we were able to navigate ourselves rather easily, I would have thought. Scotty was in charge of directions. If it wasn't for Tashalicious coming to find us, we'd still be wandering around Seoul at this point. Scotty was convinced we had to go the completely opposite way?

After dropping off our possessions, we were off to find somewhere to have a "quiet" drink. Everything was still open. I can see why young people want to live in this part of the country. I did no work at Rhodes and there was nothing to do there actually. In a place like Seoul, I may have fallen seriously off course.

Awe-inspiring...Despite being frighteningly busy, Seoul is also quite amazing. It is such a jacked-up place and very different to where I am living, obviously. In our short time there, we only went to two small parts of the city; Hong-dae (the student area and home of Hongik University) and the shopping haven (Myeong-dong), which has all the fashion stores. I have no knowledge of any of the following places as I cannot afford to even set foot inside any of them but us girls browsed around Zara, H&M and all the little side shops. I took a list of things I needed to buy and came home with nothing to show for it besides a straw summer hat I will probably never wear again (even though it looks quite good upon my head), a head band with a huge black flower attached (which I wear ALL the time) and some red nail polish for the nails that I bite daily! Ridiculous. The fashion of the majority of the Korean youth is rather awe-inspiring, however, and I long to learn something "fashiony" in my time here. It is definitely an area in which I lack serious talent.



Deathly...On Saturday night, after a lovely reunion party with the other teachers in Seoul, we all headed to a dance club, THE dance club in Hong-dae apparently. It was literally a deathly place. We paid some exorbitant sum to get in, only to leave straight away again. I have never been into a building where there are so many people. It was like taking part in a voluntary stampede. You did not have to move your feet at all. You were simply carried with the crowd up the stairs, men groping and kissing you from all directions. It was horrific. And definitely a fire hazard - danger zone - health and safety code red - place! In England, they would have torn that place down long ago for every kind of law infringement. It survives happily in Seoul. I am not sure how there have not been any deaths-by-stampede yet. Most of us came out from the underground hell after approximately four minutes, heaving with anger and shaking with fear. Some of the guys were actually wanting to punch anything in sight. Fortunately, we went straight back to the little bar from Friday night and all was well with the world again.

On Sunday morning, Scotty and I made our way back to the bus terminal to meet our fellow Pohangers and return to the east coast. Not looking forward to the 5 hour bus ride, we decided to have a little lunch before boarding. Stupidly, I sent Scotty to the counter to order two chicken burgers. He came back almost immediately with the purchases in hand. This was to be our second deadly experience of the weekend. It was apparently meant to be a tender grilled chicken fillet on a roll. Unfotunately, it did not seem to be grilled at all, was almost raw and had a revolting soya/kimchi/fish taste to it. Yummy. Even Mozi would not eat it! Never again shall I trust a man to order food when he is hungover and useless. Only joking Scottles!



Wonderful...My thirty or so hours in Seoul were quite wonderful. After a month in the mountains, it was like going to London for a party after caring for a grumpy English granny for 3 weeks. Absolute feedom! We had a brilliant party on both nights and it was so good to meet up with the orientation crew of English teachers again.

In the day on Saturday, we interrupted our shopping spree with a visit to Kraze burger (a Korean burger franchise, I believe?) for lunch and met up with the boys, Jo and Tashalicious who had skipped the shopping madness for a more calm exploration of the surroundings. Kraze Burger's service left a lot to be desired but their food left nothing at all. It was delicious!

We also stayed at a fantastic guesthouse called "Blu" in the Hong-dae area. As the Claricle has been year for over a year, she booked us in for the two nights and promised fluffy duvets and breakfast. We got just that. It was perfectly located and very comfortable. I actually regret not sleeping for more than 2 hours a night in that lovely bunk bed. The peanut butter and jam toast, coffee and orange juice in the morning was close to the best part!

The only "un-wonderful" moment was when I lost my favourite ring in the subway station. After a good search and a very good sulk, Kaitles was able to cheer me up by finding me a new friend. We named him Mozi and he goes everywhere with me these days; my miniature Korean mascot. After a good day's retail therapy, Kaitles, Hells Bells and I stopped at the subway station again. I asked if they had found a ring by any chance. The guard asked me what colour it was and I said it was silver. He gestured that he may have found one and reached down for what could well have been my ring. It was not though...sadness swiftly suffocated my soul again.

Life-changing...Seoul is a place never to forget. It is quite the most overwhelming experience I have had in a long time. With Team Awesome in tow, it was a truly life-changing experience too. When and if I am ever brave enough to return to Seoul, I will make sure it is a cultural trip to see more of the amazing sights and learn from what such an amazing city has to offer. It is certainly a place where dreams come true and money is spent very quickly. I can't wait for Round Two...

(All Seoul photos: by Claire Keet)

Never forget...

Sometimes, when I sit in the teachers' office in the mountains of Gyeonsangbuk-do, unable to communicate or to escape, I wonder if the world has forgotten me here in the middle of nowhere?

But then I remember a song from Stellenbosch days, a song I hold so dear. Even if everyone forgets, the memories remain with you always...

"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word

And then that word grew louder and louder
Until it was a battle cry

I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never
Been this way before

All you can do is try to know
Who your friends are
As you head off to the war

Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light

You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye

You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye

Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Until they're before your eyes

You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say good bye..."

(Regina Spektor - musical genius)

My Epic Trip from Daejeon to Pohang, Sunday 20 March – An UNNECESSARY schlep

After a rather splendid Saturday, spent braai-ing on a rooftop with wonderful friends in Daejeon and a good party at the legendary Cocoon club, I was looking forward to a stress-free return trip to my little town, Heung-hae, just north and inland of Pohang city. As with most things in “Dynamic” Korea, this was not to be the case.

We all woke up late on Sunday morning feeling rather awful actually. It was clearly a successful South African braai, wasn't it? A friend, Helyn, was going back to Gyeonsan. Because this is "half" on the way to my city, I thought I would break the journey by going some of the way with her and then going the second half on my own.

We arrived at the train station at 2pm after the worse and longest cross-city bus ride of my entire life. It was about 90 degrees Celsius on the bus and we were wearing coats, carrying bags and pillows. There was not a centimetre of space to work with either. Apparently, everything happens on Sunday mornings in Daejeon? We didn’t know where to put our bags and everyone was looking at us really strangely (firstly because we are foreigners and secondly, because we were carrying one million items). I won’t be carrying a pillow with me ever again. It was clearly a societal failure!
It is truly ironic that the day you really feel like sitting down, you have to stand up, and you have no idea where you are going and the bus is swaying from side to side as if you were on the sea in a storm.

What we also did not bargain for was several trains being sold out or the fact that the train times would not suit our exact needs. “Oh, why,” I asked Helyn, “is that train to Pohang at 5pm and not 3pm?”
The earliest train we could catch to Gyeonsan was at 3 o’clock. To pass the time and to feed the hangover hunger, we stepped into the little “Asian food” restaurant and bought the Korean version of chicken curry and of course, rice. As a tantalising little side order, we were given…kimchi (fermented cabbage). Koreans eat this famous national dish with every meal, absolutely EVERY meal. Yum! I had to politely push mine off the tray for fear of it ruining my meal entirely.

At around 2:45, Helyn and I trundled off to the train platforms. Our tickets showed a large number 3. Naturally, we assumed we would be leaving from platform 3. We arrived at the platform at 2:55 and almost patiently waited for the train which had cost us a pretty 15 000 won (over R100) to acquire, I might add. And that was only getting me halfway home, remember?
I just had a funny feeling that we were not in the right place. I told Helyn to check with a guard closeby who shook his head violently and pointed in the opposite direction. We were, in fact, leaving from Platform 6 and had to run up some stairs, down an escalator (while squeezing past some annoyed train-catching veterans) and find our carriage number along the platform. We somehow managed to do it in exactly three minutes and arrived panting (and cursing the Korean rail system) with two minutes to spare. How we did it, I'll never know. But I sure was ecstatic! It is amazing that happiness can be so easy.

We had a rather pleasant train trip back to Gyeonsan (Helyn's hometown). Then came the subway trip, of course. I felt like I was in England again except everything was in Korean. Thanks be to goodness that Helyn had done this part of the trip before. We managed to arrive at our destination without much stress apart from the intense "cabbage" smell the entire 30 minutes. Someone on that train was NOT well inside.

After exiting the subway station, we had to navigate our way to the bus station where I would catch my bus to Pohang. At 18:20, I said a fond farewell to Hells Bells and hopped on the bus. A mere 1 hour and 40 minutes later, the bus stopped at Pohang Intercity Bus Station. What relief to be closer to home. At 20:10, I climbed onto my last form of transportation, (you guessed it...a bus) to my town of Heung-hae. In one day, I had used every available form of public transport in Korea. I suppose I should view this as a positive point?

Nevertheless, arrival time at 105 Dreamville, my apartment: 21:00. Seriously? Seven hours to travel 300km? Next time, I will most definitely be going the direct-3-hours-on-a-bus route, won't I? NO DETOURS ever again...sorry Helyn!