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Stranger in a Strange Land Newsletter: January 2006

Dear Readers,
The first thing I would say is: Korea has given me more stories and awesome adventures per month than any other country. The other thing I would say is Korea has given me more grief per month than any other country. Just look at their food: that's exciting, tasty, painful food. There's a lot of parallels between the food and the culture as a whole, and both I've learned to handle a lot better (more on this later).

The next thing I would say is thank you very much to everyone who sent me birthday e-mails: luckily people didn't take me very seriously and did send some late, as well as early and it really made my week! And now the news in brief is thus: I spent one month in the Jirisan mountains working on a WWOOF (Willing Workers on Organic Farms) farm, helping a little at an English academy in exchange for a little money and a small, dirty, smelly apartment that I loved, and hiking during the winter in the greatest, most famous mountains in Korea. Then New Year's weekend I spent in Busan with a friend I have there, and now I am once again in Seoul having so much fun. It's been a trip. And I'm going to Japan on Wednesday... more on that next time!

As I said I have quite a lot of stories but there has been a request to talk about the people here more. My response was of course: "People? Why do you care about those things?" But seriously, there are so many interesting things I've noticed about the people in my more than two months in Korea but in the last couple newsletters there has been so much news I haven't gotten to it: Korean people are nuts. In good ways and bad ways Korean people are nuts!

They’re a lot of fun and they're just so casual about things which other cultures consider so serious. They're very physical too: they will hit each other and hold hands all the time (usually not at the same time). Grown men will actually sit with a hand on another man's knee. In an extreme example I noticed three young men sitting on the subways while the guy in the middle massaged both of his friends on the knee and then even on the inner thigh. That's not gay at all... in Korea. But it's all refreshing in some ways the casual touching when you feel like it, the hitting when you're annoyed, and even the spitting wherever, whenever you want. Other times it's appalling. They'll also casually take you out to eat or a complete stranger will casually walk half of a mile out of his way when you ask for directions. They also seem to casually break agreements, as I've heard and experienced.

On that note you probably wonder how it went with the third WWOOF farmer Mr. Choi: I lasted about a week. At that point I chose to leave. Then I worked for a very difficult woman who nevertheless gave me a free place to stay for three weeks while I hiked in the mountains as much as I could and had wonderful experiences.

That's the main news read more for details! Happy New Year to everyone, may it bring truly new things and well deserved loss of weight.

All the best,
Eli



Mr. Choi totally fulfilled the work in exchange for free room and board: I worked and he did in fact feed me well, and gave me a nice place to stay. That was great and I am so thankful for it. But I'm even pickier than that: I actually wanted to be treated like a human being. Or to refer to something more official: WWOOF (Willing Workers On Organic Farms) is a "Work and Cultural Exchange" program and as I said he did fine with the work part but not so much with the cultural part! It seemed that Mr. Choi listened to me only enough to jump in with something about how wonderful his company, his country, his home town, or even his ramen noodles and credit card were. He bossed me around pretty rudely, bragged, and spoke in Korean to others around me: that's pretty much all I heard him say. Once again a reporter wanted to take pictures of me pretending to work but when we went out for lunch Mr. Choi spent the whole time only talking to the reporter.

Eventually I butted in by saying, "What are you guys talking about?" At first he turned to me, smiled, and turned back to the reporter to talk further. I asked again and know what he said? "Talking about WWOOF." And then he turned to continue speaking to the reporter for the rest of the meal. Perhaps they were discussing about how wonderful WWOOF is as a means of cultural exchange. Anyway, the real kicker was at the end of the meal when Mr. Choi pointed to my dish with an uneaten crab in it, said something in Korean, and laughed along with every other Korean speaker at the table (don't forget the cameraman). Furious, though staying fairly calm, I said: "When you say something about me, speak in English, please." He said simply, "Oh, I'm sorry." and turned away. I lost it a little bit and desperately exclaimed, "So, what did you say?" The reporter, who did in fact speak good English, said that it was time to go now.

I decided to drop it and at least be comforted by the fact that it was all over. To give a little background this is a fist sized crab which you rip open and do all you can to get the meat out of it over the course of the meal. There's not much meat. I had had this type of crab for breakfast that morning and the morning before. I pride myself on trying most anything once, in this case twice in the last two days, but I decided I'd skip it this time. In the parking lot I thanked Mr. Choi for the meal and the reporter told me that he had a sister in North Carolina. In general I was generously given food and shelter and shown some cool places around Jirisan, was casually treated rudely, and we all stayed calm. Even when Mr. Choi did something at which I drew the line and I was truly too furious with him to work another minute, in front of him I actually kept my cool and said, "Thank you." But my decision to leave was helped by something else:

A hagwon and two Canadians. These are small academies for children to study in after school and well mannered, good-natured creatures from the north: Korea is absolutely infested with both. They have a good sense of humor too: the Canadians that is. Wes and Daryl had worked for Mr. Choi before me but had now found a school where they could do a little teaching in exchange for a place to stay, dinner, a little money, and a cheap ticket to Thailand: their next destination. When Michelle, the Korean woman who ran the English academy, met me she was anxious to put me to work as well. The first week I was there Michelle took us out three times in five days: dinner, drinks, karaoke: she liked having fun.

In that same week Daryl was doing one hour of work each weekday for 10,000 Won (about $10 American) per hour. On Thursday or Friday Michelle told Daryl she couldn't pay him the 50,000 Won she owed him. All three times she had taken us out I'd say she spent over 20,000 Won. Daryl casually said, "Okay." Daryl was her favorite. He was also really good with the kids and I'm sure that had something to do with it as well. Anyway, I didn't have the same attitude and when she kept changing or breaking our agreements it did bother me and my voicing that fact appalled her. Daryl and Wes left me alone with Michelle and the run down apartment she provided us with halfway through the total three weeks I was there. The apartment was without furniture, the walls were drawn on with crayons, the wallpaper was peeling, and there was a funny smell. But it had hot water, Michelle gave us a portable stove, there was heating, it was free, and I actually thought it was really cool!

We had decided mutually that I would leave at the end of the week, the last week of the year actually. On Friday Michelle called me at 11am to casually basically tell me she was kicking me out of the apartment a mere 24 hours before I was planning on leaving. I don't know what's worse the vindictiveness or the pettiness. For some reason I had felt it would be a good idea to start packing the night before, so it didn't take long to finish and say good-bye to the apartment. I went to the school to give the key and hopefully get the money she owed me.

After Michelle asked for the key I casually told her that I wouldn't be able to work that evening as we planned if I had to leave the apartment because the buses didn't leave late. So it'd be great if she could give me the money she owed me now as well. She continued to insist I give her the key right now but I thought it'd be best to do it at the same time and eventually she did have the money in her hand in front of me. She lost her cool at that point for some reason and yelled loudly at me, "Give me the key!" I did and then slowly but firmly took the money from her grasp, telling her lightly it was no big deal. Relieved I put the money in my pocket, walked out of her office, and went to say good-bye to Mercie, a cool Filipina woman who works there, let alone tell her to say good-bye to some of the cool kids I had become fond of there. And Michelle actually asks me to come back into her office. Her entire demeanor has changed. She looks really guilty and says quietly, "Eli, do you have a place to stay tonight?"

Before she can elaborate much more on why in the world she's asking that after she just took my key some of Mercie's friends come to the door because Mercie too is having trouble working there and she suggested her friends can replace her. They're all very nice and we have fun joking around and I tell them I'm going to Busan now (thus answering Michelle's question). In that friendly atmosphere, fun loving Michelle is actually very quiet and even has her head down. Eventually, she says, "Okay, Dutchie (I was forced to choose a nickname for reasons too complex to explain), I'm sorry." And then, in front of all of her present employee and prospective new ones, I had the chance to say to Michelle what I had always wanted to say to her: "Michelle, you're not very nice." Then I said a friendly good-bye to everyone and left. I wish I had said a little more, for example looked at the other people there and said to them, "And she knows it." But basically it happened just as I would have liked. She's not a bad person, she's just a stressed-out, irresponsible jerk.

And what I've realized it's okay to truly think they're jerks but at the same time be unbelievably grateful for the opportunity that they made possible for me and I had some amazing experiences in the Jirisan Mountains over those weeks. I don't know how I could have stayed so long there without Mr. Choi and Michelle. Like terrible parents I was there because of them and I am deeply, truly thankful for that but I'm still upset and disappointed in how they treated me. And Michelle's apology just confirms those feelings, it doesn't negate them.

You may be wondering what was worth being so thankful for. "Did he meet some shamans or something?" To the best of my knowledge I didn't meet a single shaman while I was there. It seems everyone insists there are many shamans in the Jirisan Mountains but nobody seems to know where they are. No, I hiked. I hiked the mountains and they taught me great things. One said, "Hey, Eli, I'm a mountain. But you look like you're carrying more on your shoulders than I am! Lighten up!" I've been trying to do this "lighten up" thing faster and more efficiently ever since then. The last hike I took, the most intense hike I've ever done, where near the peak I was climbing a steep, stony path, with a foot of snow on the ground, and a misty haze of icy snow blowing through the air. I made it to the peak, Nogodan, with the help of three resilient climbers I ran into.

I was so cold and so tired, I wasn't sure if I could make it back down. But I soon realized that those steep, slippery, snowy paths were a lot easier to go down than up. I skied, I ran, and I frolicked. It was a joy. As I went down I offered up to the mountain that difficult, wonderful, joyful experience and I noted how far I had come to get there and prayed I could be shown something after all this. I didn't expect to find a shaman at that point and even before I got there, I was ready for the fact that I might not find any. All you need is the trees, the earth, the rocks, the streams, and the mountains anyway. Everyone knows that.

Later that day as I wrote an e-mail to my Grandmother Verna, noting the wise observation she had: she said that I might find a shaman but in the end I was really going to the mountains to find God (before writing that she said, "Now don't laugh when I say this but..."). Thinking and writing about such things and telling her about my newest travel plans I realized something: this whole travelling and writing thing is pretty cool. Something came over me and I just laughed about it. I've felt guilty that I'm not doing more to help the world. At the same time I've felt guilty for being too serious of a guy with family and friends! In general I realized that who I am, what I'm doing, isn't so bad. I search for God where I can find her and I serve the ancestors however I can. I learn an unbelievable amount of information, skills, and life lessons while I travel and I write a goofy newsletter that I hope does something for someone somewhere.

I gotta sign-off now or I'll never send this! You all take care. More to come soon!