Gunpla: Reborns is Reborn

One of the reasons I started this blog was so I could post pictures of my Gundam models, yet it's been almost a year since I made my first post on "Mercenary Teacher" and in that time I've hardly shared any of my work. Unacceptable!

A little while ago I tasked myself with updating my 1/144 HG Reborns Gundam. I initially completed Reborns back in 2013, but I did so without any of the little touch-ups that can make a Gunpla really pop. It was recently I decided Reborns deserves a make-over, so I pulled it down off the shelf for what I expected to be a quick job.

That was over two months ago.

Whether it's because I'm ridiculously obsessed with making perfectly straight lines or because my techniques are woefully inefficient, finishing Reborns took me a lot longer than I thought it would. Still, the results speak for themselves, and though I'll be the first to admit it's far from perfect, I'm very pleased with how Reborns turned out.

The photos in this post give a rough idea of the work required for breathing new life into Reborns. First, you can see how it looked when built straight out of the box, with absolutely zero additional work done. Next comes disassembly, so I could tinker with each piece individually. Some parts needed paint to look their best, and for those I used tiny brushes and hobby paint mixed with thinner. Other parts just needed a little ink to make their lines stand out, and in those cases I used a very fine tip black pen. Painting Reborns is by far the biggest reason this project took such a long time. When I was finally satisfied enough to move onto the next step, I took all of the painted pieces and stuck each to a wooden skewer using a dab of putty, then arranged them inside a styrofoam box. I waited a few days for the paint to cure before taking my Gundam outside so I could spray it down with flat matt topcoat, to seal the paint and remove the cheap plastic shine of the model. I reassembled the model once the topcoat had dried, stuck it on a display base, and waited for a clear sunny day to take some good-looking photos.

Even though there were times when working on Reborns I felt like my hobby was becoming more of a chore than a pleasurable past-time, the final product makes everything worthwhile. I'll have to wait until next month before I start a new project, however: I'm going to Japan for winter vacation in a few days, and I need to focus on planning for that!

You can be sure when I return it will be with several new kits in tow.

Workshops: Korean for Party Time

In South Korea, workshops are an important part of workplace culture. "Workshops" are exactly what they sound like: a chance for a company's employees to travel together to some far off corner of Korea so they can sight-see, eat expensive food and drink themselves silly, all on the company's dime.

If you're now thinking, "That's exactly what a workshop doesn't sound like!" then don't worry, you're not alone.

I've gone to a few workshops during my stay here in Korea, and they're always a good time. I don't fully understand why these outings are called workshops and not "company retreats" in the first place, but you won't hear me complain. Any excuse to loosen my tie and have a little fun with the people I see more than my own family is fine by me.

"Loosen your tie? Have fun? You can't do that with your boss, think of the consequences!" In Korea, consequences are more likely to materialize if you don't loosen your tie, so for your sake I hope 1.) you're a strong drinker, and 2.) you like soju, because there's a high probability the boss likes soju and that's what he's going to be ordering for everybody (I personally don't like the stuff, it gives me a splitting headache every time I touch it, but fortunately I've gotten pretty skilled at swapping out the contents of my shot glass for water when no one is watching).

For this particular outing, we all piled into a chartered bus and drove three hours to the eastern sea, where our reserved pension awaited. I slept most of the way there; when I awoke it was dark, there was an ocean, and I had no idea where we were other than somewhere on the east coast of Korea. Later I would learn we had driven to the harbor city of Donghae, located in Gangwan province. From what I could tell of my short time in Donghae it was a pleasant little place, full of the things you would expect from a port town: boats, a lighthouse, fish, more fish, still more fish, so on and so forth.

Dinner was of course fish. I'm not a huge fan of seafood to begin with, but I've been having stomach issues recently so for my sake I avoided eating the more foreign-looking dishes. Meanwhile the soju was pouring freely, and while I was enjoying my harmless shots of water and pretending to be inebriated it was amusing to observe my coworkers get a little crazy. Noraebang followed (what the Koreans call karaoke) and the less said of that the better (though I did belt out a fantastic rendition of "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen). By this point I was reaching for the flask of rum I had tucked away in my jacket pocket, because I didn't want to be the only person in our group not acting like a goof.

When the sun rose, so did only some of the teachers. That includes me, because I had the foresight to stay away from the soju. Pretty pleased with myself for that move. The rest of the day was spent sight-seeing and eating: we hiked up to Mukho Lighthouse to take in the view; we drove to a fish market, where I saw fish so bizarre I could scarcely believe they were considered edible; we stopped by Chotdae Rock, which means candlestick in Korean, named so because of the natural shape of the rock; and for lunch we had beef. Glorious, wonderful beef.

When we finally got home I was dog tired. It was a fun workshop, mainly because I like this group of coworkers. There's a possibility I may not continue at this school next year, so I'm grateful we could make some memories this weekend.

The Benefits of Being Prepared

"Wait a second," you're probably thinking. "There was already a blog post about snow in the countryside!" Yes, but these photos are different! "No they're not! They look exactly the same!" Really, they are! Look closely.
I don't mean to repeat myself with these entries, but yesterday there was a pretty decent snowstorm here where I live, and I couldn't resist taking more pictures of some of my favorite locations. Even if the photo compositions are identical, I feel the lighting and weather conditions are different enough to create a brand new subject!
Not surprisingly, my hard drive is full of photos of the same spots. Over the course of a year, it's been fun to document how the rotating seasons and different times of day can change the way familiar places look and feel. At some point, I want to collect all of my favorite photos of said locations and put them all into one blog post, so we can see just how dramatic those changes are.

Anyway... So there was a snowstorm yesterday. Big, fat wet heavy flakes. I was going home late in the evening by bus, and while keeping an eye out for my stop I was having trouble recognizing where I was, due to everything outside the bus window being a blur of white. When the bus stopped around the time I would usually be getting off, I took another peak outside and had no clue where I was. I asked the bus driver if this was my stop, and he said yup, and I looked again and I asked again and he still said yup. So I got off.
There were other passengers who had disembarked and were walking toward what looked like a town in the distance, and since I was still unsure as to where I was I just followed them. From what I could gather, the winding narrow road to my usual bus stop was probably too treacherous for the driver due to the weather, and he instead opted to dump us off on the side of the freeway. The walk was beautiful, despite the cold and my inappropriate footwear (thin high-tops). There was no moon out, but the reflection from the street lamps off the fresh snow made everything glow. Eventually I did get home, albeit with numb toes.
The next morning I headed to work wearing my steel-toed boots, as I didn't want my poor feet to freeze again. However, after one step outside I immediately turned back: the wet snow had frozen over night, and the road leading down to my school was a literal slippery slope of ice and death (maybe not death). I needed equipment if I was to survive the walk without bruising my bottom, so I went rummaging for my shoe spikes (leftovers from a mountain hiking trip I took a few years back).
Some people might consider it overkill, lacing up heavy boots and strapping on ice spikes for a 10 minute walk. But as I descended down the hill at a comfortable pace, bottom un-bruised, I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit smug whenever I noticed a high school student in sneakers struggling behind me to safely shuffle across the icy roads.

Wawoo Jeongsa: Thailand in Korea

2014 is almost over, but before it ends I want to share photos from a few of the adventures I went on this past year that I never got around to uploading.

Back in October, I took a bike ride to nearby Wawoo Temple (just try saying that name without giggling). I had heard of Wawoo (pffft hahaha) from one of my coworkers, who recommended I check it out. Doing a Google search for Wawoo (no stop I can't take it anymore) returned sparse results in English, which lead me to falsely believe that the temple was small and wouldn't have much to see. Nevertheless, I thought the journey would be a pleasant excursion, so I hopped on my bike one fine Saturday morning and went on my way.

First mistake: The excursion was not pleasant. After passing through a few kilometers of farms and fields, I started ascending. Stubbornly I pushed up, until I got too winded to continue and I realized that the ascent was only getting steeper. It dawned on me then that of course I would have to bike up a mountain, nearly all Buddhist temples are built on the tops of mountains so as to be closer to Buddha. Feeling pretty stupid for forgetting this fact, as well as pretty darn tired from heaving myself up a mountain on two wheels, I reluctantly began to walk my bike the rest of the way up. Eventually I reached the summit, and since Wawoo Temple was still a bit further ahead I got on my bike and trusted in gravity take me the rest of the way. Although a thrill to be tearing down the mountain at the same speed as traffic, in the back of my mind I knew that it was going to be a pain later trying to get back up.

Second mistake: Wawoo Temple is not small, not in the least bit. Furthermore, of all the temples I've visited in Korea, Wawoo is the most atypical by far. While many of the Buddhist temples I've explored are fairly standard in their layout and construction, Wawoo struck me as a gallery of sorts, a hodgepodge collection of religious artifacts strewn across the temple grounds. Later, a friend told me that Wawoo is famous for that very reason: the head monk travels around the world, acquiring Buddhist icons and setting them up on display at his temple. Wawoo even has a partnership with Thailand, since the temple's biggest attraction (literally and figuratively) was brought from there. It's the first thing you notice when coming in through the front entrance: a massive Buddha head sitting by the pond next to the parking lot. Truthfully, it's almost surreal in it's presentation, and the initial shock upon seeing it is in of itself a good reason to visit Wawoo. From there, I spent a few hours wandering around, checking out everything Wawoo had to offer before getting on my bike and heading back home.

Knowing that I'd have to ascend once more before I could reach the other side of the mountain, I began lugging my bike up along side the road. Another biker passed me, a middle aged Korean man in full biking gear (his neon tights put my jeans and t-shirt to shame) and he stopped to chat for a bit: he spoke Korean, and I nodded my head. When he was ready to go, he hopped back on his bike and motioned for me to follow. I let him go and resumed pushing, when suddenly he turned around, saw what I was doing, and chided me until I got on my bike and followed him proper.  Muttering under my breath that this old guy was going to kill me, I did my best to keep up, and to my surprise I didn't embarrass myself (somehow). In truth, having a biking partner gave me the motivation I needed to do what I thought I couldn't. We quickly reached the summit, where he continued along a different, more advanced route. I said goodbye, and gleefully rolled down the mountain, letting the momentum carry me all the way to my house.

Winter in the Countryside

Just last week, the weather outside was a balmy 35 degrees Fahrenheit here in sunny Korea. This previous Sunday, the last day of November, I went out wearing only a light leather jacket and sweater and had no trouble staying warm.
Then the sun set, and when it rose the following morning it was the first of December, and without warning the weather dropped to 19 degrees and a blizzard blew in and covered everything in white. If nothing else, it can be said that this year's winter was exceptionally punctual.

I love all of the seasons; each has its own set of endearing qualities. What I don't like is that dead period between the end of fall and the first snow of winter, when everything is dark and brown and muddy and simply looking outside is enough to make one feel gloomy and despondent, as is the case for me. However, once the snow begins to fall and everything is made clean and fresh, I feel my spirits perk up.
Winter in the countryside is especially beautiful, and I allowed myself to be a little late to work this morning so that I could take my time getting some nice photos.

The Rubber Duck

These days, I don't get out much. Besides the cold weather keeping me in my home, I'm trying to save up as much money as I can for my trip to Japan this winter. Plus, my girlfriend broke her foot a few weeks ago, and with her out of commission I don't have too many reasons to go to Seoul. When I do travel to the city, I find that I've acclimated so well to solitary country living that the intense crowds are almost enough to send me dashing back to my tiny town.

That being said, I went to Seoul by myself last weekend, mainly for the purpose of seeing THE Rubber Duck. If you're not familiar with the Rubber Duck: it's simply the largest yellow rubber duck in the world. That's all there is to it. Created by Dutch artist Florentijn Hofman, it travels the globe, visiting numerous cities and bringing peace and love and attracting millions of curious people wherever it goes. The Rubber Duck has been in Seoul since October, and this past weekend was the last chance to see it before it leaves for parts unknown (Hong Kong). Originally my girlfriend and I had planned to visit it together, but since she's still recovering from her injury she gave me her blessing to go and get photos for the both of us.
Stumbling through the throngs of people to get to the duck was a pain. It used to be that I enjoyed the energy of the city and fed off the electricity of the crowds, but this time I caught myself longing for the humble simplicity of my one horse town (just kidding. My town is so small we don't even have a horse). I'm not sure what caused this shift in my attitude, but I don't particularly mind. I still love to travel and explore, it's just that now I like to do those things in a more sedate atmosphere.
Regardless, when I eventually did find the duck it took my breath away. It was majestic to behold. I realize that's a silly thing to say about a giant yellow rubber duck, however if you ever get the chance to see it I highly recommend you do. The duck was so calm-looking, despite the hundreds of people surrounding it and giving it aggressive attention. It was as if the duck had achieved a perfect zen-like state of being.
Now that I write all this out, it occurs to me that maybe what I need is to be more like the duck. It wasn't bothered by the circumstances of it's surroundings. It simply was. Sitting in Seokchon Lake in the shadow of Lotte Tower, the center of attraction to a crowd large enough to make a K-pop idol blush, the Rubber Duck continued to smile, an arbiter of tranquility in the eye of a storm.
And now that I write all that out, it occurs to me that I'm attempting to personify a rubber duck. Haha... Maybe I'm more afflicted by cabin fever than I first thought.

Jeonju: Crowded Serenity

The weather has gotten a lot cooler since my last update. Fall is here, one of my favorite seasons, but sadly it never lasts long in Korea. The beginning is always marked by a brutal Indian summer, followed by a week or two of incredibly agreeable weather before the cold of winter comes and lingers until well into spring. But, during those few short weeks of fall, you can't find a bluer sky.
I've been taking more trips recently. I realize I never finished writing about my summer journies, and I'll get back to doing so, but first I'd like to share some photos from a short vacation I took down south to Jeonju earlier this month.
Jeonju is a city located somewhere in the middle of South Korea and, based on the recommendations of my friends, is famous for two things: its hanok village and bibimbap.
Hanok refers to traditional Korean homes, and indeed Jeonju's hanok village is exactly what the name implies. Nestled in the center of the city is a tight concentration of hanok style houses and buildings, all painstakingly designed and maintained to evoke feelings of ancient Korea. Indeed, walking along its streets and narrow roads I definitely felt like I was in a place far different from the modern country I've come to know.
Bibimbap is a traditional Korean dish of warm rice in a stone bowl topped with numerous sauteed vegetables and Korean spices, which is stirred all together right before eating. Although you can eat bibimbap anywhere in Korea, I've been told countless times that the bibimbap in Jeonju is different from others and is a staple of any Jeonju excursion.
I arrived in Jeonju on a Friday evening after a quick train ride from Seoul, and I stayed in at the Dukmanjae hanok guesthouse on the outskirts of the village. It was small but very comfortable, and was a great starting point for my adventures. After rising early in the morning my first stop was the 100 year old Jeondong Catholic Cathedral. The walk through the ancient-style village down roads still obscured by early morning mists was peaceful, and at the risk of sounding cheesy, a little magical. There was only a handful of other people out on the streets, and in the tranquility of dawn it really seemed like I was walking back through time. When I got to the cathedral I found it filled with curious tourists taking pictures who were asked to leave when mass began. Being Catholic myself I stayed for service, and afterwards I got brunch across the street at one of Jeonju's most well-known bibimbap restaurants, right before the weekend's huge crowds arrived. It was a great start to the day.
... And it was about all I was able to do, because after those two morning activities the hanok village became swamped with out-of-towners (no hate, because I was also an out-of-towner) who queued up at every possible point of interest and formed lines that snaked around themselves and clogged the streets. For the rest of the morning and the whole afternoon, there was virtually nothing I could do that didn't require waiting in a line for several hours. It was around that time I started to form a less than favorable opinion of Jeonju.
However, after walking and browsing the shops all day, I started to change my mind. Jeonju's just too charming to stay mad at. The dinner I had was a traditional (there's that word again) meal consisting of over a dozen side dishes served with soup and Korean rice wine. Not all of the foods were to my liking, but the meal was memorable. Following that I returned to my guesthouse for a nap, and when I woke up it was dark out and the crowds had noticeably dissipated. It was then that I was finally able to visit the hanok village's hotspots, most of which were food kiosks that sold local delicacies. When I eventually retired for the night, I felt satisfied with my tour.
Though Jeonju's hanok village tested my patience for crowds and its attractions are mostly limited by how much you can eat, it was well worth the visit. Once is enough, I think: spending a whole day there allows one to get a good idea of what Jeonju has to offer. I don't know if I'll be going back anytime soon, but I will remember fondly the time I spent exploring Jeonju's quiet beauty.

Cambodia Day 2: The Majesty of Angkor Wat

I awoke at 4am. I had made arrangements the previous day with a tuk tuk driver to pick me up in the early morning and drive me to Angkor Wat before the sun rose, so I had no time to shower or eat breakfast. I just threw on some clothes, grabbed my bag and dashed out the front door of my hostel to find my driver waiting for me.

We drove down the dusty road from Siem Reap in silence, zipping past tuk tuks and tour buses loaded with tourists going to the same destination as me. After a quick stop at the main entrance of Angkor Archaeological Park to pick up my three-day visitor's pass, we continued onwards. By the time we arrived at the bridge leading to Angkor Wat a sizable crowd had already formed. It was still dark out, and most people were walking across the bridge to see the sun rise from inside Angkor Wat's outer wall. I decided to take a seat on the opposite side of the moat and watch from there.

Angkor Wat, which translates to Temple City, is the biggest religious monument in the world. It was constructed in the 12th century and was originally a Hindu temple before being converted for Buddhist use. It has survived centuries of aging, looting, vandalism and warfare. Despite invasions by neighboring countries, civil wars, and Cambodia's descent into madness under the rule of the Khmer Rouge, Angkor Wat remains, a testament to its construction, its importance to the local people, and the combined conservation efforts of the global community. I reflected on all of this while watching the morning sun peek through the clouds and shine its radiance down on Angkor Wat, and as I caught my first glimpse of the sunlit temple spires I could scarcely believe where I was.

Only after the sun was fully in the sky did I walk across the bridge to Angkor Wat. Along the way I was approached by an old lady selling guide books. There would be countless such encounters throughout the day, with Cambodians of all ages attempting to sell me everything from post cards to mangoes to tour services to magnets. To most of these people I would say "No thank you", but I did buy that guide book. It was one of the wisest purchases I could have made; written by Claude Jacques, a distinguished scholar on all things Angkor, I found myself flipping through Ancient Angkor near constantly during my trip. It was absolutely essential to my understanding and navigation of the practically labyrinthine Angkor Wat, and without it I would have appreciated the temple half as much.

I don't want to turn this post into a discourse on Angkor Wat and ancient Khmer civilization; you would be much better off reading a book by an expert. Instead I'll lay out the basics, in order to foster an appreciation for the pictures I'm about to share. Inside the moat surrounding Angkor Wat is the large outer wall containing the city and temple. The city is gone now, erased by time and replaced by jungle, but in its place reside Khmer people who have the right to live inside the park and set up small shops and restaurants. From what I could tell, there is also a school and monastery. In the middle of the jungle is the Angkor Wat temple, three levels high, each level stacked on top of the last, with the uppermost level peaking in a series of five spires. This "temple-mountain" configuration is meant to evoke the image of Mount Meru, the absolute center of Hindu cosmology. I've never quoted a book before on this blog, but I want to share a short passage from Ancient Angkor that helped me begin to understand how truly magnificent Angkor Wat really is:

The scale of Angkor Wat enabled the Khmer to give full expression to religious symbolism. It is, above all else, a microcosm of the Hindu universe. The moat represents the mythical oceans surrounding the earth and the succession of concentric galleries represent the mountain ranges that surround Mount Meru, the home of the gods. The towers represent the mountain's peaks, and the experience of the ascent to the central shrine is, maybe intentionally, a fairly convincing imitation of climbing a real mountain. (Jacques 48)

My exploration of Angkor Wat was a journey through history, theology, and architectural theory all at once. I had come alone that day, and was grateful for that, as it allowed me the leisure of discovering Angkor Wat at my own pace. I would look around, reference my book, look around some more, pause for a snack, etc. By mid-morning I was starving though, and I retreated to one of the lunch stands outside the temple for some fried rice. When I returned to Angkor Wat I began touring the outer galleries, which are covered in intricately hand carved bas-relief friezes. The friezes are impressive beyond words: stretching out dozens of meters, they recite the stories of kings and gods, of ancient battles and hallowed mythology. To go into specific details here would require this post to be the length of an essay, so I will have to leave you with my photos.

I wandered around Angkor Wat for close to six hours. Afterwards I got a light lunch, then located my tuk tuk driver. He had been napping in a hammock all morning, patiently waiting for me. In Siem Reap, you hire a driver to taxi you around all day. When you make a stop to go into one of Angkor Archaeological Park's numerous temples, the driver waits outside for you until you're ready to move on. You can repeat this process as many times as you want, and at the end of the day you pay the driver a sum total of $20. I wasn't ready to return to my hostel just yet, so when the driver asked where I wanted to go next, I replied Phnom Bakheng.

Phnom Bakheng is a small temple built on top of a good sized hill to the northwest of Angkor Wat. Due to its elevation it's a famous spot for catching the sunrise over the spires of Angkor Wat, but when I arrived I found the view to be partially obscured by construction equipment. Regardless, it was pleasant on Phnom Bakheng. While Angkor Wat was utterly congested with crowds, Phnom Bakheng was practically deserted. I didn't see any other people besides the construction crews working to preserve the temple and a Khmer father playing with his daughter. I took a few minutes to enjoy the tranquility, then began heading back to my tuk tuk. It was only 2pm, but I felt I had seen enough for one day. I didn't want to burn myself out on temples this early into my trip, so I decided I'd go back to my hostel, shower, eat and take a nap before meeting my French friend for dinner.

While walking down the hill from Phnom Bakheng, I heard something peculiar: It sounded like the trickling of a stream. Looking around, I saw no water. That was when I realized the noise was coming from the trees to my right. I looked closer and saw movement, but it wasn't what I expected: That "trickling" sound was actually the clicking of thousands of giant Cambodian ants.

Cambodia Day 1: Border Crossing

Originally, my summer plan was to fly straight to Cambodia and spend a week there. However, when I saw that the price of round-trip plane tickets from Seoul to Cambodia averaged around $800, I decided to get a little creative and see if I couldn't shave that cost down. A one-way ticket from Seoul to a major travel hub like Hong Kong was ridiculously cheaper, and flying from Hong Kong to Bangkok was also incredibly inexpensive. Since Thailand borders Cambodia, I figured there must be a land route between the two, and after doing a little research I found a website to purchase bus tickets online. For the flight home, I got a special deal on a one-way plane ticket out of Cambodia, taking me back to Seoul just in time for summer classes. All in all, when the dust settled and my ticket invoices were tallied I had spent barely $700, and as a bonus my travel itinerary had just tripled in size. Not too shabby!

That was how I came to be in Bangkok's northern Mochit bus station early on a Sunday morning. I had arrived by taxi from my hostel, and I would be traveling by bus across Thailand's eastern half and Cambodia's western tip for the next eight hours. Before getting on the bus I stopped by a 7-11 to stock up on snacks: a couple of sandwiches, some bananas, a bag of chips and a pack of cookies, all of which cost me under $5. The bus itself was comfortable enough, and the ride was pleasantly uneventful. On board, all of the passengers were backpackers and travelers like myself, all headed to Cambodia or parts further east. Most were from America or Europe, and the fellow I sat next to was French. He had spent his summer working on a farm in Australia saving money, and was now enjoying an odyssey through Asia on his way back home. We had a lot of time on our hands, so we chatted quite a bit. The bus stopped once, at a small station in the Thai countryside, and didn't stop again until we reached the border crossing.

I had done a lot of research about the Thai-Cambodia crossing at Poipet in the weeks leading up to my trip. Namely, I had read to be wary of scammers who try to double charge you for an entry visa into the country. To prepare for that I purchased a visa online before my arrival. I thought I was ready, but when I got off my bus I didn't expect the scene I found. If you've watched Star Wars, maybe you're familiar with the space port Mos Eisley: old, beat up and run-down, full of colorful characters in transit from one place to another, everybody doing what they want with security added as an afterthought. Now I'm not saying there weren't any military or police present in Poipet, but they seemed awfully laid-back in comparison to other borders I've been to. The police I did see just idly watched as throngs of people, many piled onto scooters, others packed into massive tour buses, came and went.

Getting into Cambodia was a tricky thing, not because of security, but because I had no idea where to go. The bus staff gave us no instructions; they just kicked us off with barely a word spoken. I had purchased a ticket for a direct ride from Bangkok to my final destination, but I would have to get my passport stamped before I'd be allowed back on the bus. Unsure of what to do next, I followed the crowds. Eventually I arrived at the customs office on the Thai side, and after showing my passport and my plane ticket stubs, I was allowed to move on. Upon exiting the office I was in front of the gate to Cambodia, wide open and waiting for me to step through. The novelty of it all was wonderful to me; without having to undergo a thorough pat-down, with no Ramboesque super guards scrutinizing my every move, I was able to just casually walk into another country. The same went for everyone around me. Backpackers, Thais and Cambodians were constantly shuffling by in a constant stream, all going about their own business without any kind of anxiety.

Once on the Cambodian side, I wandered around a bit before I found where I could have my passport stamped and my visa verified. I had to wait in line for about an hour, but I was fine with that. It was interesting to watch the variety of people who scooted through the border. In front of me was a young Japanese man traveling with his mother. I know enough Japanese to engage in small conversation, and of course seeing their reaction to finding a non-Japanese person speaking their language, in Poipet of all places, was the most amusing thing to me.

With my newly stamped passport in hand I went looking for my bus. A different bus driver mistook me for one of his passengers and almost whisked me away to parts unknown, but after the misunderstanding was cleared up he told me my bus was waiting on the Thai side of the crossing. So, I simply walked across the border and back into Thailand, and after everyone had boarded the bus we drove for a few more hours until we reached the Cambodian city of Siem Reap.

The bus arrived in the early evening. I had dinner with my new French friend and a German, and then took a scooter taxi, or tuk tuk, to my hostel. That night was spent just trying to gradually acclimate myself to my new surroundings so that I could be ready for the next morning. I had come a long way for a very specific reason, and finally I was within reach of my goal: the ancient temple city of Angkor Wat.

Bangkok: Then and Now

Bangkok had been through some changes since my last visit in the summer of 2013. Namely, the country was under new management after a military coup d'état deposed the previous government. As my taxi silently glided through the night from the airport to my hostel, it wasn't hard to notice how eerily quiet the streets were. People were scarce, and in their place were military garrisons outfitted with sturdy vehicles and serious weaponry. It was a starkly different scene from the vibrant and lively city I had come to a year prior.

To be fair, my hostel was located in a much more sedate part of town. When I ventured out onto the streets after a peaceful night's slumber, I found the city I remembered. While other Asian mega cities I've been to tend to operate at a nonstop blistering speed, I always feel like life moves at a slower pace when I'm in Bangkok. The scenery isn't as intensely overwhelming as Hong Kong, the crowds aren't constantly shoving you along at their speed like in Tokyo or Seoul, and the Thai people will take a moment to smile and greet you.

I only planned to stay in Bangkok for a day before departing by bus the next morning. I love being in Thailand, however I had already spent one vacation there, and I was in the mood to see more of Asia this summer. I just figured that since I was in the neighborhood, a quick stopover couldn't hurt. The main objectives of my little detour were simple: to catch up with my Thai friend from my university days, and to eat as much Thai food as possible

In my last few posts I wrote very highly of the food in Hong Kong, and as much as I enjoyed it what I was truly looking forward to was being able to have Thai food once again. Most people already know Thai food to be incredibly hot, but it's so much more than that. It's spicy of course, and also sweet, often minty, always fresh. The food is filling yet light, and pops with more intense flavors than I'm capable of describing with words alone. Simply put, Thai food in Thailand is sublime, and it's something anyone with a taste for exotic cuisine should try at least once.

I had already seen most of Bangkok's historical attractions the last time I visited, so following lunch my friend took me to the impressive Chatuchak market, the largest of its kind in Thailand. Whereas the markets I had explored in Hong Kong were stocked with cheap Chinese factory goods, Chatuchak Market is unique for selling a wide variety of handmade artisan crafts. We wandered the stalls for hours, and I eventually caved in and bought something when I found a store selling super sweet designer anime robot shirts. My wallet complained, but I didn't listen.

At some point during the day, the conversations with my friend drifted towards the current political situation in her country. I told her that in the west, most news articles and political leaders condemned Thailand and its military junta. "Let democracy happen," was the common sentiment I heard from my hemisphere. But listening to my friend, she saw things differently. Before the coup, she always had to be cautious when going outside and had to plan to avoid any violent rallies or protests. Now, she said Bangkok was calm again, and the locals were beginning to feel less tense with a stable body of power finally in control. Some people smarter than I speculate that Thailand isn't ready to embrace a democracy, and though I do feel democracy is the best for a country like my own, I can understand that for people with different cultural backgrounds and histories, another form of government may be more suitable. I don't know what Thailand needs, I hardly qualify to discuss the politics of other countries, but I find it fascinating to be able to observe the process of a shifting government firsthand. Last year Thailand was a democracy, this year it's controlled by a military junta, next year who knows? Maybe it will convert back to a monarchy.

We finished our Saturday with a trip to Asiatique, a riverfront outdoor shopping mall notable for being high-end and a little expensive but also a great place to unwind after a busy day. We feasted, and when we were satisfied we said our goodbyes, and I told my friend I'd try to visit again the following summer.

Hong Kong Day 5: Dim Sum and Then Some

I decided to spend my last day in Hong Kong on a low-key note, since it was probably going to be awhile before I got another chance to rest. So I slept in, did my laundry at the hostel, checked out, and basically milled about the city at my leisure.

There were a few final attractions I wanted to visit before I boarded my evening flight. First and most important on my list was a little hole in the wall restaurant called Tim Ho Wan, which specializes in dim sum. What makes the dim sum at Tim Ho Wan famous is simple: it's good. Tim Ho Wan has a Michelin star to its name, and is billed as being the most inexpensive Michelin starred restaurant in the world (notice that I've been using "in the world" a lot when describing places in Hong Kong). The crowd assembled outside waiting to get in was ridiculous, but I had time to kill and curiosity to satisfy. I asked a person queued up how long she'd been in line, and she told me that her party of two had already waited for close to an hour. I resigned myself to twiddling my thumbs for awhile and went to the front to add my name to the wait list.

"How many in your party?"
"Just me."
"Come this way, please."

I tried not to gloat too much as I was led to a lone empty chair at an otherwise occupied table.

Tim Ho Wan is notorious for its  BBQ pork buns, so I ordered those along with a few other dishes. While waiting for my food, I did a little eavesdropping. The two young travelers I was seated with were from Korea, and my Korean is decent enough to know that they were talking about little ol' me. Eventually they said hi to me and asked where I'm from, and after I introduced myself I had a little fun.

"한국 사람?" (You are Koreans?)
"한국말할줄 알아요??" (You speak Korean??)
"조금 ㅋㅋ." (A little!)

Suffice to say the two turned red pretty fast, but they were nice and we chatted until my food arrived. The first thing I tried was a BBQ pork bun, and it took just one bite to see why they're so renowned. Hot and fresh with a sweet, cookie-like exterior, the interior is soft and chewy and packed with a savory morsel of BBQ pork. For less than $2, you get a plate of three, which is practically a steal when you taste how amazing they are. I also had vermicelli rolls and stewed beef, which were both excellent, but without a doubt the highest praise belongs to those incredible pork buns.

It's become a sort of habit of mine to visit the tallest building in a city on or before the last day of a visit, so from Tim's I went to the ICC, the International Commerce Center, and took an elevator up to the observation deck on the 100th floor. Although the view was obscured by fog, the observation deck was practically devoid of people so it was a nice chance to look out over the city and reflect on my time in Hong Kong. Following that I took the elevator up a few more floors to the Ritz Carlton for a cocktail, and as the staff courteously guided me to the hotel restaurant I did my best to look like I was the sort of customer who could afford a room at the Ritz . Sadly, all of the window booths were already reserved for afternoon teatime, an interesting cultural leftover from Hong Kong's period under British colonial rule. I had my cocktail regardless and scooted out.

I spent the rest of my day checking out small restaurants and trying to satisfy my hunger for Hong Kong food. Eventually I made my way to the airport and arrived without incident. I left Hong Kong that night around 8pm, on a plane that would take me to Bangkok, Thailand.

Hong Kong Day 4: Fishing Villages and Big Cities

I met up with my Korean friends early in the morning and we departed Hong Kong for nearby Lantau Island, easily accessible via metro. Once there we took a cable car up through the hills of Lantau to reach Ngong Ping Village, located atop a mountain in the island's interior. Normally the wait to get on a cable car would have taken several hours, but my friends had the foresight to reserve tickets a week before our trip. The cable car ride was a thrill, with glass bottoms that let us get a better idea of just how high up we really were. Amusingly, the other family shoved into the car with us was also Korean. I sat by while my friends and the family conversed in Korean and helped each other take a plethora of Korean-style family and group photos. If you're unfamiliar with how Korean family photos look, just imagine v-signs. Lots and lots of v-signs.

First stop in Ngong Ping was the Po Lin Monastery. While it is currently occupied by monks who are busy with their day to day duties, the monastery, and its cafeteria, are nonetheless open to the public. We ate what the monks eat, and since Buddhist monks don't consume meat, we enjoyed a Chinese-style vegetarian lunch. I don't typically go for the vegetarian entree when I eat out, but what we had at Po Lin was possibly the tastiest vegetarian-style meal I've ever had.

After lunch we climbed up a nearby hill to take in the Tian Tan Buddha, the largest seated bronze Buddha in the world. I was easily dwarfed by the Buddha, and yet standing next to it and looking out over the ocean, I couldn't help but be filled with a sense of calm and serenity.

I parted ways with my friends following the visit to Buddha; they wanted to go back to the mainland to do some shopping, and I wanted to continue exploring the island. I took a bus down to the northern coast of Lantau to visit Tai O, famous for being an authentic fishing village where the people live in stilt houses. Having recently become a popular tourist destination, signs of development are beginning to show in Tai O, but fortunately at the time of my visit the village appeared to still be a drowsy, peaceful little town of fishermen and peddlers. I took a speedboat tour of Tai O and the surrounding waters, then used my feet wander up and down its tight narrow roads and along its creaky wooden stilt walkways. I probably was too nosey for my own good, allowing my curiosity to practically take me into people's living spaces, but none of the locals seemed to mind. They were too busy talking with neighbors, or watching tiny television sets, or drying out fish. The only one to pay me any heed was a dog who came to say hello as I stood on a walkway outside someone's home.

I returned to Ngong Ping Village and rode the cable car down to the metro station, where I hopped on a train back to the mainland. I was feeling a craving for dim sum take hold of me, so I found a restaurant and consumed more than I probably should have. It was then time to reunite with my friends to see the Symphony of Lights. Although I had already watched the show a few nights prior, they hadn't, so we got a seat along the harbor to enjoy the magic. I didn't mind a second viewing, as it gave me a chance to experience the show from a different vantage point.

Our last activity for the day was a trip to the Ladies Market, yet another outdoor market, but this one well-known for being one of Hong Kong's biggest. Contrary to its name, the Ladies Market sells goods aimed at a wide range of demographics, and though I had already spent more than I had budgeted for the Hong Kong segment of my trip, I couldn't stop myself from walking out of the Ladies Market with a new leather bag. It helped that one of my companions is probably the best haggler I've ever met, and she secured me a deal for 50% off.

It was then time to part ways, as my friends would be returning to S. Korea the following morning. I would remain in Hong Kong. I had one more day left in the city before I got on a plane to go to my next destination.

Hong Kong Day 3: From the Seas to the Mountaintops

After spending the past two days exploring the northern part of Hong Kong Island and the adjacent mainland, I decided it was time to venture down to Hong Kong Island's southern half. I had heard that the beaches along the south coast were especially nice, though to be honest I wasn't expecting much. I had seen what S. Korea considers a nice beach when I visited the port city of Busan, and I figured Hong Kong's Repulse Bay would be more of the same: over-crowded, nowhere to relax, with waters too frigid to barely poke a toe in.

Thankfully, I was completely wrong. Repulse Bay was, at least when I visited, a gem of a beach. I spent all morning swimming, lounging on the sand, and developing a wicked sunburn that would plague me for the rest of my vacation. It was worth it though, just to escape from the bustle of Hong Kong for a few hours.

Further down south along the coast was Stanley Market, another outdoor market and one that's particularly popular with tourists. I browsed for a little bit, got some lunch, and found a sweet deal on neckties. Six for $10, how could I resist?

I met up with some friends of mine from S. Korea in Stanley Market, and together we headed back to the northern half of the island to check out some of the landmarks. We rode the Central-Mid-Levels escalator, purportedly the world's longest outdoor covered escalator system, which took us from Hong Kong's busy financial district up to the numerous restaurants and cafes of SoHo. Along the way we would hop off the escalator at several exit points, once to locate a famous bakery for some egg-tarts and again to pop into a popular noodle shop to enjoy a quick meal of wonton noodle soup.

That evening we took a bus to the top of the island, to a building succinctly named The Peak, where we could see the best views of the city. It was insanely crowded at The Peak, to the point where I wondered how it was possible to fit so many people on the roof of one building, and the wait in line to get on a trolley back down to the city took several hours, but the whole experience was great. I'll never forget the view of Hong Kong that night, all lit up and stretched out before us.

Gunpla Expo and Gunpla Builders World Cup 2014, Hong Kong

By the way, the Ani-Com convention was also the host for the Hong Kong Gunpla Expo and the Hong Kong Gunpla Builders World Cup 2014. Did I know this when I made my plans to go to Ani-Com? Nope. Was it a nice surprise? You bet.

Of course I took pictures. Of course I took so many that I'm going to make a blog post dedicated solely to Gundam models.

Before we get started, I want to say that while S. Korea's entries into the Gunpla Builders World Cup were pretty impressive, the quantity and quality of the Gundams on display in Hong Kong made the models I saw in Seoul look like child's play. Apparently the people living in Hong Kong take their hobbies that much more seriously.

But hey, don't take my word for it. See for yourself in the pics below.

Hong Kong Day 2: Trying to Blend In

On my second day in Hong Kong I went to the Ani-Com anime convention happening at the seaside Convention and Exhibition Center. I thought it would be fun to see what a Chinese anime con is like and compare it to past cons I've been to. Not surprisingly, Ani-Com was pretty similar to its Korean and American counterparts, which was fine by me as it made me feel right at home. Now, having been to anime conventions in the USA, S. Korea and Hong Kong, I guess all that's left is to check out an anime convention in Japan?

Whereas Comic World in S. Korea is focused on the fan aspect of the anime and manga community, with most of its booths belonging to private individuals attempting to sell their own homemade wares, Ani-Com was all about the commercial side. Big name distributors and companies were on site to get that sweet nerd money, making their presence known with giant expensive booths designed to draw you in with huge displays of the latest video games and amazingly detailed life-like action figures. I'll admit I didn't leave the convention empty handed... But in my defense I had been looking to buy some drink coasters for a long time, so finding some for sale (Gundam-themed, no less) was pretty sweet.

Before leaving the con, I watched a cosplay contest featuring contestants in elaborate costumes performing skits, songs, and in one case, a wicked taiko drum show. The contestants were apparently the ten finalists from a previous competition, and I don't know if it's the style in China or what, but the costumes being shown off were some of the most glittery, borderline gaudy cosplay I have ever seen. I thought it was great.

For lunch I got some dim sum in my belly. This is as good a time as any to confess that I ate as much as I could while in Hong Kong, and most of what I put in my mouth was dim sum and wonton noodles. If you're unfamiliar with dim sum, just picture delicious appetizers sold at affordable prices. I had a lot of great dim sum, but one of my favorites is the steamed barbecue pork bun. I could probably eat those all day, which is really less of an assumption or more like a fact.

In the afternoon I took a ferry across the bay, leaving Hong Kong island to explore Hong Kong mainland. The city on the mainland was even more labyrinthine and congested than what I encountered on the island, and I occupied myself for hours walking up and down narrow streets. On the sidewalks were the most aggressive salesmen I've ever encountered, almost all Indian, almost all trying to lure me into their shops to get a custom suit or to buy a new Rolex, and getting past them was exhausting in of itself. Eventually I stumbled upon the Temple Street Night Market, one of Hong Kong's famous open-air markets. After doing a little shopping there, I took a bus back to the harbor for a ferry tour of the bay.

At 8 pm almost every night, all of the major buildings located along the waterfront light up for a synchronized light show, apparently the biggest of its kind in the entire world. My ferry rode out to the middle of the bay and parked itself in a spot where I could get a perfect 360 degree view of the whole Symphony of Lights. I took pictures of course, but it's definitely one of those things that's better appreciated in person!

When I got off the ferry, I headed back to my hostel. Two days down, three more to go.

Hong Kong Day 1: Center of the World

Summer has come and gone, and with hardly an update from me. If you assumed that was because I was traveling, you'd be right. I spent two weeks this summer tromping about Asia, and even though it's been about half a month since my journey ended, I still don't feel like I've fully processed all that I did and saw. I look over my photos now, selecting from over 3000 which to upload here on my blog, and I can hardly believe that the places I see in my pictures are places that I visited. Then the reality sets in, and the memories come flooding back to me, and I start to daydream about my next adventure.

My first stop was Hong Kong. I've heard Hong Kong referred to as one of the centers of the world, and after staying there for five days I completely agree. More than just an Asian city, it feels like a global city, with peoples of all races and cultures filling the streets. It's also very distinctly a Chinese city, but with a strong English flavor left over from it's time as a British colony. I was more than impressed by Hong Kong, and it's easily become one of my favorite cities.

I arrived in Hong Kong on a Monday around 4 pm and spent the afternoon getting myself situated: I picked up some Hong Kong dollars, purchased a SIM card for my phone, bought a transit card for the metro and bus and found my hostel. I stayed at the Yesinn @ Causeway Bay, a small, narrow hostel located on Hong Kong island. For the price and location, Yesinn was perfect. The sleeping arrangements in the room were interesting, with nine people sleeping on bunk beds that were three beds high, but I liked it. After finishing all of my errands and dropping off my bags, I had some time to venture out into the city and explore in earnest.

Hong Kong feels like no city I've ever been to. It's crowded, it's narrow, it's completely vertical while stretching out horizontally as far as the eye can see. It's alive, it's organic, it doesn't sleep and there's always something to do. I had no real destination when I left my hostel; I simply wanted to wander the streets and explore, get a little lost, and definitely try some local cuisine. I did all of that, and very quickly I discovered that I love Hong Kong food. Wonton noodle soup is now one of my favorite dishes, and I wish there was an easy way to get it here in South Korea.

I got to bed early that night. I had a busy week planned, and I was going to need all of my rest.

Gunpla Expo and Gunpla Builders World Cup 2014, Seoul

I know what you're thinking. It's pretty obvious. "Wow, all of those Busan pics were great, but my favorites were the photos from the Gundam Base! I sure wish the next blog post would be about Gundams again!" Well well well... Today is your lucky day. The Gunpla Expo has rolled into town here in Seoul, heralding the start of this year's Gunpla Builders World Cup and calling forth the planet's greatest Gunpla builders to strut their stuff. On the third floor of the I-Park department store in Yongsan, Seoul, the Korean entries into the 2014 World Cup are on display to the public, and the level of talent present is impressive. While some of the models are less than stellar, most are amazing, with a few being truly remarkable.
Sadly, I did not have my camera handy when I visited the expo, so I had to make due with my phone. The pictures I took with my Galaxy S3 may not be as crisp and clean as those I snap with my Canon Powershot, but I have to say I'm not displeased with the results. Besides, the expo will be running for a few weeks yet, so if I really feel the need to go back and get better photos I have plenty of time.

Gundam Base, Busan

Thought I was done posting about Busan? Nope! I've got one more batch of photos to share, because what trip to Busan is complete without a stop at the local Gundam Base?

Although a little difficult to locate, the Busan Gundam Base is a lot nicer than the two in Seoul. It's better stocked, has more interesting props and themed decor, and it actually has Gundam-related music playing on the in-store stereo. While that last bit may not sound like much, it makes a huge difference when you consider the Gangnam Gundam Base is playing angry rap every time I enter. My running theory is that a clerk over there with an affinity for African American music hijacked the stereos and nobody except me has noticed the stream of English profanity flowing from the speakers.

Anyway! Enjoy the Gundams.

Busan: Haeundae Beach

So when I wrote about Gwangan Beach in my last post, I mentioned that despite it's claim to the Gwangan Bridge, it's not the most famous beach in Busan. That honor belongs to Haeundae, a relatively decent strip of surf and turf that would be amazing if it wasn't so crowded. The beach itself is very pleasant: clear waters, fine sand, and the canopy of tall buildings surrounding Haeundae makes for a unique backdrop to splashing in the ocean. But the density of people congregating along the shore is suffocating, giving you nowhere to go for a moment of solitary relaxation except under the waves. Which, actually, was fine by me, because it was hot out and I needed a swim.
In fairness, a big portion of the crowd that weekend could probably be attributed to the ongoing sand sculpture festival, which provided a great alternative to paddling in the water after I had gotten enough salt in my eyes. When I felt done with the beach in general, I wandered over to a nearby modest-sized fish market, giving me another chance to decline trying some of the most distressing looking seafood I've ever seen.

All in all, the whole Busan experience was a good one. I checked out the landmarks, I meandered aimlessly, I mingled with the locals, and by the end of my trip I felt like I had gotten a really good taste of what the city has to offer. If I get a chance, I'd like to go back someday. And honestly, working there would be a good change of pace if I ever decide I want to move away from Seoul but still want to stay in Korea.

Busan: Jagalchi Market and Gwangan Beach

Seeing as Busan is a port city, it makes sense that one of its numerous famous landmarks is a massive outdoor fish market. I'm not the biggest fan of seafood, but Busan's Jagalchi Market is a landmark, so I made sure to pay it a visit. Upon arriving I wandered up and down the crowded rows of vendors for awhile, gawking at the alien-looking sea creatures for sale and politely declining the invitations of dozens of fishmongers to try their wares. I definitely wanted to eat something at Jagalchi though, and just when I was beginning to think I'd have to suck it up and attempt to ingest a terror from the deep, I found a very welcoming booth selling traditional Korean potato and beef soup. Together with a bottle of soju, the soup was perfect: it certainly helped that the ajumma cooking the food would reach over and pour me another ladle-full whenever I neared the bottom of my bowl.

In the end, I never did sample any of the local aquatic delicacies. Did I miss out by not going out of my way to eat the most disturbing looking thing I could find? Some people might say yes... But I'm not one of them.

After Jagalchi I spent the rest of the day checking out the markets that didn't smell like fish; eventually I wound my way over to Gwangan Beach. While not Busan's most famous beach (we'll get to that in a future post), Gwangan Beach is notable for its spectacular view of Gwangan Bridge, a lengthy suspension bridge that lights up every night. I arrived at the beach just in time to enjoy that evening's light show, and I was relaxing with a friend and a beer when a peddler approached us and tried to interest us in her goods. My knee-jerk reaction was a quick no-thank-you; I had been refusing mongers all day and it was just natural to say no by this point. However, I did a double take when I realized she was selling fireworks. Can you imagine? Saying no to fireworks! So of course I changed my tone and bought some. Who doesn't want to shoot off some fireworks on the beach!

Busan: Yonggungsa

Been awhile since I posted, huh? Got a little distracted with life, but I'm still around, and I'm eager to finish sharing the pictures from my Busan trip. After all, I'm going to be taking a ton of photos when I go traveling in a few weeks, so it's probably a good idea to upload the rest of my pics now before my backlog gets out of control.

On the outskirts of Busan, situated serenely on a coastal cliff, is the seaside temple Yonggungsa. Typically Buddhist temples are built on or around mountains, so Yonggungsa's location is a big key to it's fame. See for yourself; my photos do Yonggungsa more justice than my words ever could!

Most of the photos are pretty self-explanatory, but in very last picture is a Buddha statue with a black belly. When you get to the end, I'll explain why that is. Meet you at the bottom!

Busan International Motor Show

During my trip to Busan I stayed at a hostel by the name of Guesthouse Cooool (spelled with exactly that many o's). Normally I don't stay in hostels when I travel as I prefer to have my own space, but this time I was glad I made an exception. Cooool was clean, it was comfortable, it was stylishly modern, and it was within five minutes walking distance of Haeundae Beach. The woman who ran the hostel was incredibly friendly and helpful, and every morning she went to the trouble of making a fresh and delicious Western-style breakfast for all of the guests. Without trying to sound too much like a paid shill, if you're ever in Busan and looking for a place to sleep, I definitely recommend her guesthouse.
It was still dreary outside when I sat down for breakfast one morning with the other hostel guests, and while we talked about what we would do that day one traveler mentioned there was a car show currently going on in town. With not much else planned, I decided to check it out. I'm not a car buff in the slightest, but I figured a car show would be a good chance to try to take some dynamic looking pictures.
The Busan International Motor Show, or BIMOS, is held biennially in the Bexco Exhibition Center. When I arrived I found many other tourists with expensive-looking cameras shuffling about; car enthusiasts, I assumed. However, after buying my ticket and entering the main viewing hall, I quickly realized that the shiny new cars on display may not have been the main drawing point for most of the people there...

Busan: Taejeongdae

When I reflect on my first year in Korea, I feel like I did and saw so much, whereas in comparison my second year seems a tad more complacent. Everything was new to me back when I was fresh off the boat plane, and by simply leaving my home and walking down the street I would be able to see something exotic, a novelty that started to wear off after I had been around the block a few times. When I came back to Korea for my third year, I decided that if I wanted to re-experience the wonder of living in a new country I'd have to be more proactive and go look for adventures instead of waiting for them to find me. To that end I've been making a strong effort the past few months to get out of my home and go to the places that I've only read about; hence that lovely trip to Jirisan a few weeks back; hence why this past weekend I took a four day holiday to Busan.
Busan is the second largest city in South Korea, a port city on the southeast coast famous for it's seafood, beaches, and different dialect. With a population of roughly 2 million it's not nearly as large Seoul's 10 million, but during my stay I still found Busan quite lively, especially on the weekend when the sun finally poked out and Koreans from every corner of the country descended on the beaches.
Speaking of sun, crowds, and beaches: I arrived in Busan on a Wednesday thanks to a school holiday that gifted me an extended weekend. The rest of Korea had only Friday off, which meant I had a head-start and could hit the beach before it became too suffocating with people. The weather in Seoul was already dreadfully hot, and I was looking forward to enjoying what I assumed was going to be an almost empty beach. When I did finally sink my toes in the sand of Haeundae, Busan's most famous beach, it was relatively deserted, just like I predicted. However, that was more likely to do with the fact that it was raining, and would continue to rain until Friday afternoon.
Fantastic.
Busan has many other attractions, and I entertained myself with those for a few days while I waited for the weather to permit me to frolic in the waves of the East Sea. My first stop (after the disappointment of Haeundae) was Taejongdae Park, located on an island connected to the mainland by bridge and close to Busan's main train station. A trek through the park was perfect for a short day hike, and though a train was available for touring the island I gave it a pass so I could stroll at my own pace.

Comic World: Where the Koreans Go to Cosplay

Every month in Seoul there is a comics and animation convention called "Comic World". Basically, just imagine the anime cons back in America but with more Koreans.
I've attended Comic World twice now, once last fall and again this weekend. As far as cons go, Comic World is pretty basic: there's a big room for people to sell their art and there are cosplayers. There are events too, but nothing as extravagant as what I'm used to seeing at American cons. In fact, Comic World is pretty small when directly compared to conventions like Comicon in America or Comiket in Japan. But it's the biggest event of it's kind in South Korea, so it's the place to go if you need a con fix.
One of the things I like about Comic World is I get to see where the interests of Korean, American  and Japanese fans intersect, as well as where they diverge. From what I could tell, what's popular elsewhere is popular in Korea. Shonen staples like Naruto and Bleach had a strong showing despite their age, fan favorites from Japan like Touhou and Fate/stay night got more attention than I would have expected, and of course, this being Korea and all, a lot of love was given to League of Legends. The most humorous surprise for me was the volume of interest shown in western properties like Assassin's Creed and Call of Duty; I didn't think Koreans played any American video games other than League of Legends.
In the artists' room, most of the fanart for sale centered around the already mentioned titles or whatever cute girl show is currently a hit in Japan. I spent about an hour walking up and down the aisles, but pretty quickly it all began to blur together. That's not a crack at any of the artists; by all means the work they had on display exhibited a good degree of talent. It's just that I can only absorb so much anime before feeling over saturated by the countless doe eyed girls with pastel colored hair. Oh, and gay stuff. If you're in the mood for a Thor and Loki forbidden romance comic or some hot Captain America on Iron Man action, look no further than Comic World.
For me, the highlight of Comic World (or any convention for that matter) is the cosplay. The cosplayers at Comic World do not disappoint, though most aren't present inside the actual convention hall. To see the best, you have to go outside and follow the foot bridge behind the building into nearby Yangjae Citizen's Forest, where cosplayers prance about and pose for photographers while old people out for a weekend stroll look on with staunch indifference, having long ago accepted that they must share their woods with costumed invaders every month.
Photo etiquette is about the same as it is in America: ask for a picture, the cosplayer poses, take your photo, do a little bow and say 감사합니다. More popular cosplayers would have a queue of hardcore photography hobbyists lined up to take their pictures; these guys were fully decked out in gear and brandished cameras that looked strong enough to take photos of the American flag up on the moon. I felt intimidated standing next to them with my little Canon Powershot, so I'd wait patiently in back for a turn to get a quick pic.
All of the cosplayers were courteous, and some even attempted to stay in character when I approached them. Every now and then a cosplayer would attempt to speak English with me, and I would return the favor by attempting to speak Korean. Like I wrote about in my hiking post, the people in Korea are more eager to interact with strangers when doing what they love, and cosplay is definitely a case of that.

Baby Steps

So I did the unthinkable today: I signed up for a Korean class.

Now you'd think having been in Korea for almost two and half years (and with no present intentions to leave anytime soon) that I would have started taking a class a long time ago.

Well sir, you'd be wrong.

My running excuse for whenever a friend, family member or coworker chides me over my inability to speak the local language (one dear friend lovingly referred to me as a "cultural free loader") is that after teaching all day, the last thing I want to do is spend my down time in a classroom on the opposite side of the teacher's desk. And you know, I don't think I'm wrong for feeling that way. I need a break to vegetate and let my mind decompress if I'm to stay on top of my game. Besides, it's not like I've learned nothing while living here. I've picked up a fair amount of vocabulary and I can read the alphabet, so I can function fairly well when out and about without a Korean friend to babysit me.

Yet still. I feel frustrated when I can't have conversations with the people I see on a daily basis. It's isolating when I'm at faculty dinners and I don't know what's being said around me. I get jealous when I overhear a westerner on the street speaking fluent Korean. So yeah, I guess you could say something finally snapped in me, pushing me to be more proactive about my monolingual handicap.

Easier said than done, of course. Now that I live in the countryside, it's less convenient than ever to attend a Korean class. The closest schools to my home are in Seoul, and Seoul's not all that close. But my hunger for knowledge is not satisfied by excuses, so this past week I did a web search and emailed every school that looked legitimate. I got a few replies, arranged to take some placement tests, and now I'm enrolled.

Succinct as that sounds, I hadn't planned for everything to happen so quickly.

I wanted to visit at least two schools today. The first I went to was further from my home than the second, and I even got a little lost while looking for it. I did find the school eventually, and after greeting me the kindly staff sat me down in the front lobby with a test and a pencil so they could evaluate my smarts (I warned them not to be impressed). As I was stretching the limits of my limited Korean abilities, I overheard other students walk in and speak with the receptionist. To my surprise, they weren't speaking Korean at all. They were speaking Japanese! Later I learned this school was mainly attended by foreigners from other Asian countries, and even kept a few Japanese natives on staff. If I were enrolled, I would be the only westerner student.

I finished, my test was reviewed and a teacher interviewed me. She gave me overly positive feedback disproportionate to my skill level (I figure it's not good for business to inform potential customers right off the bat how much they suck) but was also fair in saying that I would need to begin in the lowest level class. She then quite suddenly started filling out the paperwork for me to enroll. I hadn't yet said I would commit to a class, and since I was planning to visit another school that afternoon I was getting ready to tell her to step on the brakes. As if sensing my hesitation, she informed me I'd be in a class with three girls from Hong Kong.

"So... Where do I sign?"

Jokes aside, I think this will be an interesting experience. If things don't work out, I only paid for a month of classes so I have the option to bail after four weeks. But really, I'm hoping for the best. It would be nice not to feel so out of place in the country that's become my second home.

Anyway! Remember that dog I posted a picture of in my first blog post?

Guess who had puppies!

Gyeongbokgung: Still Standing

Last weekend I went to Gyeongbokgung, the largest palace complex in Seoul. Though I've been before, the last time I went was almost two years ago, so when a friend asked me if I wanted to go together it seemed like a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.

The palace is situated on some prime real estate, being located at the end of Gwanghwamun Square in the heart of Seoul. Notable neighbors include the Blue House, the home of the Korean President; the United States Embassy, which is one of the most heavily guarded buildings I've seen in all of Seoul; and the mighty Bukhansan mountain, which provides a suitably grand backdrop for the palace.

While Gyeongbokgung isn't as ornate or mysterious as some of the other Korean palaces, it more than makes up for that with sheer size. It is by far the largest of what are referred to as the Five Grand Palaces, and even with that said it currently only contains 40% of its original number of palace buildings (thanks Japan).

My friend and I took our time meandering around the palace, stopping to participate in a tea ceremony along the way. When our desire to immerse ourselves in historical Korea was satisfied, we left and headed for the Dongdaemun district.

Now while Dongdaemun is famous in it's own right for being a shopper's paradise, the place I really wanted to visit is tucked away in a small corner behind the enormous department stores and ritzy hotels. There, hidden from most, is a small community of Russians, Uzbeks, and other Eastern European peoples. I've heard this area referred to as Little Russia, and whether or not that's accurate, that's what I've come to call it as well. Once inside Little Russia, the signs change from familiar Hangul to almost alien Cyrillic, the smells and aromas become meatier, and you realize the old men sitting on plastic lawn chairs outside of convenience stores drinking cheap beer are no longer Korean. It's all really interesting.

We went to an Uzbeki restaurant and gorged ourselves on oily food, flaky cakes and strong beer. Afterwards, we did a little shopping so I could get some souvenirs (the kind you can drink) before making the long journey home. I've got to say, it's probably a good thing I don't live near Little Russia. I could easily see myself savoring lamb kebab and Russian beer on a daily basis.

Bongeunsa: Happy Birthday Buddha

Consider this an addendum to my Jirisan tale. Better yet, think of it as an epilogue. After departing from Gurye that morning, my train pulled into Yongsan station in Seoul sometime in the early afternoon, giving me the rest of the day to do as I pleased. I decided to stick around the city, and since the following day was Buddha's birthday I knew that if I went to a Buddhist temple I could probably see something interesting. So I went to Bongeunsa.

Bongeunsa is, from what I can tell, the biggest temple in Seoul, full of historical and spiritual significance. Now I'm not going to disservice Bongeunsa by prattling on like I know close to anything about it (or Buddhism for that matter). What I can share with you is my sincere respect for Buddhists and their faith, and how whenever I visit a Buddhist temple I can get a sense of the reverence present. The temples themselves are fascinating to me, and I can spend hours wandering around the various annexes and shrines.

When I arrived at Bongeunsa the sky was already dark, and the annual lantern festival commemorating Buddha's birthday was on full display. The quality of the hand-made lanterns was mesmerizing. I took my time examining each one, studying the intricacies of the wire frames and what must have been painstaking brushwork. Despite there being a decent crowd around me, and despite the temple being situated in the middle of one of the busiest districts of a city of nearly 10 million people, it was easy to lose myself in the art.

I left Bongeunsa hesitantly. I was feeling at peace amongst the warm glow of the temple lanterns, and the bright neon lights of Seoul seemed a little less inviting in comparison.

Gundam Base, Yongsan (Old Location)

EDIT 2015.12.12: The Yongsan Gundam Base has moved! The information in this post is no longer correct. Please check my more recent post for information and pics regarding the new Yongsan Base.

Remember that Gundam store at Gangnam station? It's a pretty cool place. You know what's another cool place? The Gundam store at Yongsan station.

It's easy to get there. Just take the metro to Yongsan station, which is located directly below the massive I Park department store. Go up to the 7th floor, navigate your way through all of the hobby shops and food courts, and eventually you'll find Yongsan Gundam Base.

Why make the effort to go to Yongsan when the Gundam Base in Gangnam is arguably easier to reach? Size and stock, mainly. There's more to buy and see at the Yongsan store. Plus, it's right next to a Takara modeling shop, so you have a wider selection of supplies to browse.

But enough chatter. Time for the pics.

Jirisan Day 3: The Short and Sweet Goodbye

The end of my trip to Gurye and Jirisan was pleasantly uneventful. After meeting with and enjoying dinner and cards with the couple I had befriended on the bus, I retired to my room in one of the many minbaks situated in Jikjeon village. Minbaks are practically Spartan accommodations, providing little more than a shower and a sleeping mat, but for $30 I didn't mind at all. I woke up sore and creaky from my hike, as expected, but also content and well rested. I departed the minbak alone for the bus stop at the edge of town where I would catch the first bus back to Gurye. I had little time to admire Piagol Valley, but I could easily see why my new friend recommended it so highly. What struck me most was the sky: it was bluer than any I'd seen living near Seoul, and I felt a little sad I wouldn't be staying an extra day to enjoy such fine weather. I could easily see myself relaxing in the valley all day, sitting by the river with some rice wine and reading a book.
I took the bus to the terminal, and from there a taxi to the train station. The previous day I had been extremely fortunate in securing a ticket home; as luck would have it somebody had cancelled their reservation just as I was checking the railway's website (the couple weren't as lucky, as they only managed to find standing room on a later train). After arriving at the station and acquiring my paper ticket, I wandered around town for a bit, getting some breakfast and enjoying the final moments before heading home. I felt good. I felt happy. This adventure had been a success. I boarded the train knowing that I'll definitely be returning to Gurye and Jirisan someday.

Jirisan Day 2: Nogodan, Piagol and the Treachery of Jirisan

Finally, the day of the hike.

I woke up later than I had hoped to, and I didn't arrive at the mouth of the trail proper until 8am. It was quietly hidden behind the entrance to Hwaeomsa temple and I actually had some trouble locating it at first, to the point where I almost started hiking up the wrong path. When I was sure I had found the right way, I paused to have a quick breakfast of trail mix and jerky, and then I was off.

Jirisan Day 1: Bus Rides and Hwaeomsa

I've known about Jirisan for awhile. Actually, I've known about Jirisan since first I came to Korea. As soon as I arrived, the other native English teacher at my new school asked if I wanted to accompany him and his buddy down to the mountain that weekend. It sounded fun, but I respectfully declined. I had been in Korea for less than a day and I wanted some time to acclimate.
Fast forward three years later, and I've finally paid Jirisan a visit.

Jirisan: Prolouge

This weekend is a four day weekend! Thanks Buddha, for having a birthday. My life these days is getting a little repetitive, so I think it's time for an adventure. But in Korea, that's easier said than done!

Korea is not friendly to people who like to make last minute travel plans. With such a large population on such a tiny peninsula, tickets to anywhere tend to sell out fast. Like, literally sell out the moment they become available. This is a little troublesome for me, as I don't know where I want to go until it's time to go. Luckily, I managed to scrape together a pretty decent travel itinerary just a few nights ago. My destination this weekend is Jirisan, the largest national park in South Korea, and my goal is to plant my boots on two of Jirisan's peaks.

Jirisan is big. It spans across three provinces, so choosing a point of entry is important. My plan is to take a bus from Seoul Nambu terminal to the city of Gurye, at the southwest end of Jirisan. After spending the night I'll begin scaling the mountain early in the morning, visiting Hwaeomsa temple along the way. On the maps below, you can see my intended hiking course (and just how little of the mountain I'll actually be covering). My path is red; in purple you can see my optional detour. It's optional because I don't want to bite off more than I can chew.

If all goes well, I'll descend before dark and find a place to stay in a little village at the base of the mountain. Then the next morning, I'll trek back to Seoul. Easy, right? I hope so. I did a ton of research, because when I'm on the mountain I don't want to worry about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other.

I'm excited! Getting some peace and quiet away from my students should help me unwind. I'm a little nervous, too. The height of the peak I intend to climb is 1,700 meters; the highest peak I've hiked up prior to this was only 800 meters.

But hey! That will just give me something to boast about in the future!

Show and Tell

I like pictures. I like taking pictures. A big reason I started this blog is so that I can share pictures. I don't even bother captioning my pictures, because a good picture speaks for itself. What's the old cliche? A picture is worth...

The whole concept of "show, don't tell" permeates many aspects of my life, actually. With my art, I don't want to explain my picture to you. I prefer for you to look at it and tell me what you see. When I talk to people, especially here in Korea, showing gets my point across so much quicker. And of course, my teaching is all about showing.

The other day, while I was preparing a lesson on prepositions (in, on, under, etc.) for my 4th graders, I did a quick search on YouTube for a funny related video to use as a hook at the beginning of class. Instead I found a video I'm actually not going to show you, because I don't want to give the guy views. Basically, it's a home movie, part of a series, wherein a young man gives lessons on English. This particularly lesson was about prepositions. Curious, I decided to watch a bit of it.

"Today, I'm going to teach you about spatial relations."

Stop. Just. Stop. What are you doing, guy? Already you've lost your students. He continues from there, going into more detail about what spatial relations are, what they pertain to, why they're important, etc. I guarantee, if I tried to begin one of my classes with a routine like that, half the kids would be asleep before I could ask them to open their books.

Why do I take issue with this guy's methods? For starters, if you're teaching basic words like "in" and "out" to your students, then I highly doubt they're going to have any clue what the heck spatial relations are. Oh sure, you can attempt to explain to them the meaning, but that won't do them much good if they don't understand the words you're explaining with! Those poor students are still struggling with "in the box" and "on the box", and you want to give a dictation on the etymology of prepositions? Seriously.

My approach is a lot more simple. So simple, you probably already figured it out yourself:
Step 1: Show the class a ball. Or better yet, a candy bar. That will get their attention. "Candy!" Say it out loud, make sure the class repeats.
Step 2: Show the class a box. "Box!" The class repeats.
Step 3: Put the candy in the box. "The candy is in the box!"
Boom, done, and in three steps.
Kids are smart. After doing a few examples of in, on, and under with the candy and the box, they're gonna put together what you're going on about. Once they understand the basics, you play a little game to let them practice their new language, and that's it. You've just educated your students, and you didn't even need to tell them what a preposition is. They experienced it for themselves. That's what I'm all about. This is gonna sound strange, but I'm of the mind that the fewer words you use to teach, the better. Teaching is about showing, not telling.

That all said, how about I show you some pictures? Those are more fun anyway. The weather is so pleasant these days that I often go for little strolls after work to explore my town and the surrounding countryside. I love my walks. They let me see just what a wonderful place I get to live in.