Finding Heart-Strength

"Jeff!  People die!  Ground!  You go!  Not fear."  That is the direction I was given by one of the teachers of Inha Elite taekwondo academy during saturday night's campout.  But that wasn't til ten to midnight.
Let me backtrack.
I arrived at six p.m. in time for games and fun.  The older students and staff were basically being counselors for the younger kids' games.  They played everything from dodgeball to soccer to simon says to more carnival-style games, and we helped out and gave them opponents.  This was incredibly helpful for my Korean, and by the end of the night, for the first time, I was putting together sentences with a subject, an adjective, and a verb.  Now, I was obviously butchering the tenses and verb forms so thoroughly that I made the opening quote of this update look like Billy Shakespeare himself, but nevertheless, I was communicating. 
I also met a university student who was the number one student at Inha (kyobumnim, is the title for top student, I think.) and learned that at his university, he was majoring in Tae Kwon Do.  Whoah. 

Traveller's Tip: Remember the traveller's tip about not picking fights with Koreans?  Some of them literally have a degree in kicking your butt.

So after a few more games and watching videos of the K Tigers demonstration team (who I would encourage you all to look up on youtube) and having one of the ten year olds here point himself out in their championship video (again...whoah...) we all had dinner and settled in to watch How to Train your Dragon (Dragon Taming, in Korean).  As the younger students dropped off to sleep and midnight approached, the older students put on our jackets and crept out to the van.  I knew very little about what we would actually do when we got there.  But the students whisperings about getting sick last time they tried, and the master's stories about the Kui-shin, a ghost or a vampire (I couldnt make out which) who had blood running from her eyes and her mouth certainly set the mood.
On the way, we grooved to the sugary K-Pop sounds of shiNEE and 2NE1 as we climbed the mountians. 

We arrived at the tombs, shut off the van, and the world got quiet.
The weather had finally begun to cool, and the heavy mist that was settling on the mountains soaked through the students' jackets until they were huddling and shivering along the rocky trail.  One of the younger ones pushed his way closer to me, until he could whisper up to my ear,
"Go there.  Arrive.  Nightmares."
The trail snaked over a foothill, and a valley opened up before us.  A nearly-full moon stretched it's way through the gauze stretched between the ground and the sky, and in the half-light we could see something strange about the valley. 
The ground didn't roll and flow in the unpredictable way that nature decorates, with mis-matched streams and trees and hills.  Instead if was flat, and patterned like a quilt, with the stitches at even intervals spread across the open grass and up onto the hills beyond.  Graves, I learned.  Family tombs.  Thousands of years worth of them.  The Master looked at me.
"Jeff." he pointed to himself.  "Grandmother.  Sleeping.  Here."
The younger students tittered nervously at his poetic choice of word approximation.  They were scared, and wanted to make the walk ahead in groups of two or three.
"No." The master said definitively, "Solo go." He pointed to his heart.  "Heart strength.  give."
We came to a point where the wide trail stopped, and the tombs closed in around it until only one narrow path went ahead.  The assistant teacher went first, to wait at the end of the path to ensure that everyone walked the entire length.  I learned from the students that I was to go last.  The students didn't envy the assistant teacher who would wait there alone.  They didn't envy me, either. 
As the students disappeared one by one down the path, I had time to look all around.  I saw a light move through the graves far away.  A car, one of the students whispered to me.  Kui-shin car, the teacher whispered in his ear to make him jump.  I never did hear an engine.
 Some of the graves were newer, machine carved, their Hangul (Korean characters) names still shiny on the marble.  Then I noticed the graves further up the mountain.  Their brick tombs were crumbling.  The names were certainly not laser-carved.  And most striking of all, the characters were Chinese.  I asked the Master if this was a Chinese area of the cemetary.  He explained that many years ago, before they had their alphabet, the Korean people wrote in Chinese characters.
I did the research today.  The Korean alphabet was devised in the fifteenth century.  These graves could be six hundred years old.  And the further I looked up the mountainsides into the fog, the more ruined the graves looked. 
Hundreds of years.
Thousands of years.
This is a place that has seen the coming and going of writing systems.  This is a history that extends not just through Administrations, but Dynasties.
Finally my turn came.
I set off down the path.  a hill rose on my right, and a bank on my left as the path dropped into a ravine.  The rocks underfoot gave way to a powdery sand that silenced my footsteps until all I could hear in the fog was my own breathing, and all I  could see were the solitary row of tombs on my right that got older as I went further down.  The air got colder and quieter as I marveled at how many generations must have visited this place to mourn their ancestors, and then been mourned by their decendents in their own turn.  I traced family names up the hillsides until I could no longer see the grave markers.  When the assistant teacher finally stepped out to tell me I'd made it, I jumped.
I spun to face him, guard up to protect myself.
"oh, no no, boxing no".  He laughed as he marked one of my raised fists, proof of my completion and instructed me to hurry back. 
As we left the graves, I hung back for a moment and noticed the Master gesturing backward.  When I asked, he smiled and asked me to join him in waving to his grandmother who slept here.
An-nyeong-hi ke-se-yo. 
Stay in peace.

Jeff-Teacher

A place of rest and harmony, nestled amid nightmare fuel

So let me begin by saying that this week wasn't as nightmarish as it COULD have been.  But it certainly got the job done.  Friday was the day of the kindergarten field trip.  Fun, yes, but resulting in a twelve-hour workday for me.  We went to the botanical gardens.

Yay! 

We saw flowers and ladybugs.

Yay! 

We all had Kimbap for lunch.

YAY! 

There were hordes of bees and exotic-looking giant green spiders roaming wild through the garden with the children. 

 ...wait. 

We watched a movie about prehistoric times with underground blind toothy twin-tongued worms.

...hold on...

In 3D

HOLD ON!  Did they KNOW who was watching this?  There was definitely some traumatizing happening here!  And the children might've been traumatized too!

*shudders*  anyway, after the horrors of the botanical gardens, it was an early bedtime night, because nine a.m. the next day would find me at the train station, waiting for another trip with last post's guide.

Destination: Ganghwa Island

Ganghwa Island is relatively close to the shore of Incheon, and has been used for centuries by the Korean people as an outpost against invasions.  Because seriously EVERYone has tried to invade Korea.

 As we approached the beach ("beach" here, is a relative term.) it became clear that we were nearing waters on the northern end of the country.  The northern tip of the island is actually 1500 meters from North Korean soil.  With no DMZ and minefield seperating it.  Did you notice the fences and razor wire?  They REALLY don't want anyone just hopping into a boat in this channel.  As we drove through some of the poorer areas of the city, it was interesting to note the prevalence of traditional architecture.  Even homes that could afford no more than a corrugated tin roof were determined to have it in a traditonal style.  Priorities here are sometimes a mystery to me.

The Island

The first thing we saw upon entering the island was a 1600s fortress.  It was built largely to protect against Japanese invaders who found the western side of Korea provided better access than the closer eastern side.  Put in those terms, you kinda have to give the Japanese credit for being really really good at the whole invasion thing.  Of course, Europeans would eventually give them a run for their money...

The fort itself consisted of little more than a circular wall with cannon ports built in.  The fortress was constructed on a point overlooking the channel between the mainland and the island.

 The Big Guns

 And the Place-You-Shouldn't-Be-Sitting-When-The-Big-Guns-Are-Used

 This is the entrance to the fort.  I am standing in tthe archway, which must've been monstrously huge by ancient korean standards.  Many of the fort's doorways were approximately 5'10" tall.  Did I duck because I HAD to?  Not technically....

 Oh, one more thing I forgot to mention.  Look out at the water where the enemies of Korea sailed.  Now back to my writing.  The enemies have become Americans.  That's right. 

A History Lesson

In the 1870s, when America was going all Manifest Destiny on the world with awesome shiny guns, we eventually made our way to the East (and I'm sure someone dubbed the Chinese they met "Indians").  American Sailors who landed on the shores of Japan were promptly murdered because of Japan's No Foreigners policy.  Well, needless to say, the US government stepped in and Japanese men were wearing business suits and engineering our technology better than we could within a century.  Anyway, when the US found out that a similar Closed policy was in place in Korea, battle ensued, as battle is wont to do in history lessons.  Three US ships attacked...you guessed it...THIS FORT.  The Korean defenders were quickly overwhelmed.   My guide was understandably embarassed to translate some of the plaques and inscriptions at this site.  But he called in (in a stunning display of understanding the nuances of English) a "happy historical accident" because of the success brought to Korea by its new open-door policy.

This site is the memorial and graves for the fifty-three soldiers killed by the American invasion.  Just goes to show you-- even a good relationship between countries is probably complicated.

Who remembers that England burned D.C. to the ground?  NOT DURING THE REVOLUTION?

Complicated.

Beautiful eaves on the fortress.  But you know what lives under eaves?  Wasps.  Know what lives under Giant Asian Eaves?   Giant Asian Hornets.  For those of you who aren't squeamish about bees, look Here

They're very real.  And very dangerous.  And I had very nightmares about them the very next night.

 Anyway, the fort was beautiful, but the same time slot on the tour was shared by Fortress and Lunch.  And as my guide told me, "There is not time enough to see beauty and eat."  I, however, am American.  If there is not time to eat, I will create time while wearing a cowboy hat.  And I ended up with time not only to eat, but to watch the Korean Series (baseball).  Go Wyverns!

The Temple

For a change of pace, we then journeyed to a buddhist temple on the edge of a mountain.  From the snapping flags, blazing sun, and rushing wind of the seaside fortresses, it was a definite change of pace to the murmuring waters, rustling trees, and quieter landscapes.

Have you ever met a country so polite that the trees bowed to you?  For most of this segment, by the way, I'm going to let the pictures speak for themselves and recap at the end.

The Gates

Terraced levels and Tea rooms

Mountain stream water flowing directly out of a rock has refreshed these monks for centuries

This bell was forged in China 1000 years ago.  Think about that.  Centuries are insufficient to measure its age

The Medicine buddha enshrined at the highest temple. 

If you look just inside the 400-year old wooden doors, you'll see the hidden temple guardian, ready to fight off any who enter with the wrong motives.  Korea metaphor number two?

View.

The experience was a really amazing one.  It was a "this is my life" moment.  One where I had to realize that I was living this, not watching a movie with hidden Island temples.  Because in that movie there would DEFINITELY be more martial arts.  But that will be next weekend.

A Few Final Curiosities

 What you see in the background are apples.  What you see in the foreground is not.  This is pe, a Korean pear.  Bigger, juicier, and sweeter than American pears.  I once heard a commedian say that a pear is a failed apple.  I would like to add a corollary to that:  an apple is a failed pe.

This is Insam (Ginseng, as the Chinese- and by extension the world- would have it).  The Chinese characters supposedly mean "man plant".  I can see it.  But I have a hard time not thinking about Pan's Labyrinth when I see the sickly, pale, moist limbs of this thing.  On the positive side, though, according to Koreans, Insam cures many diseases, from the common cold to cancer.  as does kimchi.  as does massage...

And just for kicks, an open air market selling pumpkins.  Almost like home this time of year.  But in Iowa the pumpkins aren't next to the salted seaweed.

The CORN is next to the salted seaweed.

I'll keep you updated as often as I can. 

Always Exploring,

Jeff-Teacher



The world is frighteningly fast, fascinatingly unpredicatable, and fun

I've officially had 1000 hits to this blog.  And as a way to step back and appreciate my first month here, I'm going to take a post to look a little more seriously at not only why I'm here, but all the reminders I miss every day about how lucky everything is.
But JeffTeacher- you say- whats happening to everything we've come to know and love from 14hoursandaworld?  What will we do without your razor-sharp wit, hilariously unbelievable anecdotes, deadpan coolguy style, chiseled abs, and amazing performance in Waiting?  - And by this point I'll know you're missing Ryan Reynolds, not me (It's ok, you'll see him in the movies again soon), but I'll reassure you that JeffTeacher will resume his regularly scheduled programming next week.
For today, though, I'd like to start out with an experience that opened my eyes a little.  (p.s. If you read to the end, you get pictures)

This weekend, I met a coworker of a friend of a coworker who was an english tour guide.  I'd been given his number a week or two back, but hadn't taken the time to call.  Well, I finally did, and we set up to meet and touch Incheon on saturday. 
When we arrived at the train station, it was raining. 
Wonderful, I thought.  Our day of travel and exploring, and general foreign-world-experience is cut short.  My new friend suggested we get lunch in Chinatown (just a stop or two down the tracks) and I agreed.  The rain continued as we rode, and by the time we got there, it was pouring.  We grabbed a quick lunch, and before we could get very far, the rain pushed us back, and the ground started looking familiar (which is a very odd experience for me here.)  Next thing I knew, we were back in Freedom Park; only this time the open area previously claimed by the father-son baseball game was occupied by a stage that stood defiant of the rain.  Canopies crouched precariously over the performers and viewers alike, interrupting the show every now and then to pour the water they were supposed to be holding back onto the unsuspecting audience.
fun.
And then a new performance started.  Dramatic Chinese music blared.  A man in an eye-cauterizingly theatrical costume leapt from behind the stage, his face a mystery behind a green silk mask.  My guide gasped.
Bian-Lian-- he whispered to me -- Chinese face changers.  Watch.
And watch I did.  And I made faces usually reserved for movie characters watching fireworks.
You see, Bian-Lian performers perform a dance in a mask, and then change their mask suddenly with sleight-of-hand.  And you don't see where the old mask went or where the new one came from.  The performer's sleeve flicks before his eyes, only a quarter-second, and his new mask is there like he was wearing it from the beginning.  The changes get faster and faster, and by the end, he's changing his mask without covering the changes and still, no one can tell how he's doing it. 
When the performance finishes, and he drops the final mask to smile and bow, my guide explains to me that this is an ancient national secret of China- the trick is kept secret save for a few 3000+ year-families.  Foreigners almost NEVER get to see this.  In fact, only one man has ever performed it in America, I learned later.   A true Mystery of the East.
The Acquaintance.
The Properly-timed Phone Call.
The Rainstorm.
The Detour.
Face Changing.
Every step led up to it.  I could've never known or planned it.  Chance, coincidence, who knows?  either way, I got the chance of a lifetime.

Then it hit me....where do I think I AM?  I had no intentions of going abroad.  One day my mother suggested it as a "this is interesting" and I let it slide for awhile.  Then I began to study Chinese.  Then I visited China.  But the program in China was much more difficult.  Then out of the blue, at a I met someone at meet-and-greet I hadn't even planned to attend, and I learned of the opportunity in Korea.  Plans changed, applications were filled out, applications fell through, new applications, new fallthroughs, applications, success!, fall-through, and finally, through some mess of determination, chance, and help, I landed in Lifetown apartments in Incheon with no real idea of what twister had blown me here or what I was going to find once I got some new shoes.
I had no Idea I'd end up going to a church (an invitation I hadn't expected) and meeting many helpful and wonderful english-speakers of all ages.
I had no Idea I'd end up learning so much about Korea, Korean, and Koreans at a Taekwondo gym. (based on an offhand opportunity to which I said "why the hell not?")
I had no Idea I'd end up having such a powerful link to home when I went phone-shopping and decided to buy the good one.
The moral of the story is that when I have no routine to fall back on, the best way I've found to keep my life an adventure is to always be looking for the new opportunities.  Not to expect them, but to be ready to take them.

Traveller's Tip:  Say "why the hell not?"

I'm not as eloquent as I'd like to be, so at this point I'll give the floor to an eloquent character by an eloquent writer.

"This is an orchestration for an event.  For a dance, in fact.  The participants will be appraised of their roles at the proper time.  For now it is enough that they have arrived...none here can finally comprehend the reason for his presence, for he has no way of knowing even in what the event consists."
                                                         -Judge Holden, Blood Meridian

Well, I can no longer top the previous paragraph's writing, so I'll let my pictures have the floor.

The sign on the elevator that greets students headed to my school on the fourth floor.

Kindergarten hallways kindof look the same all over the world, huh?

My desk in the teachers lounge: no super-cool gadgets, just lots of books

Ando Lamyun.  Chinese dumplings, Japanese noodles, Korean spices:  a fitting metaphor.

The entrance to Glamorous Lifetown Apartments!

The streets of Incheon by night.  Beautiful in a techno-future kind of way.

Thanks for the first 1000 reads.  I hope to give you more reasons to keep coming back.

Life is a bold, dashing adventure.

Jeff-Teacher