On my palm he wrote,
You can use these notes.
Forever forgetting to plant the seed,
You can work this weed.
Thoughts require spontaneity.
You may not wake up as intelligent, handsome or hilarious as yesterday.
There is no guarantee.
Pity be the gullible, he and she.
Astrology, that Bush, Feng Shui
Even the FDA.
The world is as exciting as you choose to make it.
“Filet mignon is brilliant food…
…but bananas are stupid to eat.”
You need all the different things,
You should chew it.
All of them.
If you want toast and jam for a week,
And that’s all you want to eat.
Just Do It.
I’m snapping all these photos so…
…when I am over the hill, crawling up the crest…
Senile, forgetful, lost inside me.
The moment I need to be reminded how to chew and swallow.
I can flip through thousands of photographs and take myself on another
Free Vacation.
Beauty fades, dumb is forever.
Interest yourself in the empty.
Tending the full is not as fulfilling as,
Filling yourself into it.
The toilet seat.
A solitary throne for the world’s lonely thinkers.
A tiny box of Ferrero Rocher’s, a bottle of Burgundy.
Sloshed in this sauna.
The sun in Seoul is hazy.
The tan is terribly tungsten.
So many Asians.
30 000 000 of them just down the street.
The thunder of feet,
The subway has zero free seats.
If children are the most precious of the worlds “things,”
Whereabouts do we rank our seniors?
Is it a race?
Who is the sponsor?
Do I get a free sample?
I am what I am.
The most beautiful thing in the world is unconditional love.
Without Boundaries, By Andrew John Virtue Dobson
It took them (George and Steven) far too long to bring Indiana Jones back to the big screen. At present the top grossing foreign film in Korean box office history was last summers Transformers. The local newspapers have been predicting that Indiana will surpass these ticket sales and be the big blockbuster of the summer here. The film hit theaters on Thursday and on Tuesday reserved tickets for the movie had marked a new record in Korea. Thankfully a coworker booked a ton of tickets so all the staff at work could head to the film on opening night after work. Before the movie started we stood on the 11th floor of Techno Mart on the outdoor platform overlooking the glowing night sky and Han River to the South.
The movie was sort of funny to watch with Korean subtitles as some of the locals laughed at the jokes with a split second of delay. The film was rather busted (why oh why an alien subplot?!) I was also further irritated because the previous trilogy had all been filmed on location at various exotic spots such as Sri Lanka and Morocco. The fourth installment was filmed entirely in America. A bit corny when the film predominantly took place in South America: Peru, the Brazilian Amazon and Iguazu Falls.
Friday marked a sad day. Chase and Shareen’s hiatus in Seoul. They would be leaving for the summer session, backpacking throughout South East Asia until they return for the fall session. Sort of funny how life works out. Chase will be finishing his final work day at my branch the same day as me, November 11th. He has been in Korea for over two years now teaching. It seems like just yesterday I arrived as a newbie and he and Shareen took me under their wing. A massive group of us met in Gangnam at Chase’s favorite bar called Anderson. A small little bar off a side street where we played darts and chatted until four in the morning. At about midnight a few of the fellas were starving so I organized an expedition to find delicious food stuffs. We found an incredibly expensive Irish Pub a few blocks down the street. One is to expect extra ordinary prices in the Beverly Hills of Seoul. I shared a tab with a friend and for roughly fifty two dollars we ordered two bottles of Blonde Leffe, a basket of French fries and mozzarella sticks and a plate of nachos. I ka-rum-ba.
On Saturday I headed to Itaewon with Gavin to check out the used book store and ended up stumbling upon a new foody gem in the heart of the city. The restaurant is a hole in the wall with three dining tables. La Trevia serves up delicious and affordable authentic Italian. We were given a free plate to warm us up while we eyed our menus. A small plate of balsamic and olive oil and a large basket of the most delicious focaccia and flatbread with tomato paste and roasted artichoke. We were also given several chunks of Parmeggiano Reggiano. I was in heaven. This is food. I’ll pass on the kimchi, squirming live octopus and penis fish. We both ordered five dollar sandwiches. As we munched our eyes grew large and I could not stop complimenting the waiter. I ordered a sandwich of fresh focaccia, Asian greens, honey mustard chicken, walnuts, asiago and gala apple slices. I bought a massive half meter long loaf of focaccia for three dollars and decided this would be my new favorite place in the city to take friends.
Gavin and I were both still exhausted from the previous evening’s festivities. As soon as I got home I rolled into bed and fell asleep for two hours. I woke up at 4pm and rushed to meet my friends and we grabbed a cab to Olympic Park. We got out at the main station and walked with the crowds to the Olympic Tennis Stadium. We were greeted by a massive line. We picked up our tickets and found our place at the end of the line on the other side of the stadium. Canadians were outnumbered by an alarming number of folks from Ohio. A SUV slowly drove through the parking lot to our right and the entire line broke out into hysterical fits of screaming. A moment later we were told that several Korean pop stars had been spotted inside the vehicle. I roll my eyes and continue to sneak closer to the entrance. To our right was a long rectangular wooden board where three Korean hip-hoppers standing on step ladders spray painted a giant break dancing themed mural.
Once we finally entered the stadium we walked into the central arena and found seats in the middle along the nose bleed section which directly overlooked the performance stage. I have never been in an official Tennis Stadium and it was interesting to see how tiny the arena actually is. The steps leading up to our chairs were so high up whenever I looked directly down the flight of stairs my brain felt light from vertigo. For the next thirty minutes we watched hundreds of Cyon LG cell phone commercials (which are surprisingly catchy). The official title of the event is, The Cyon B Boy National Championship 2008. For the past few weeks break dancing groups from across the country had been competing locally to perform in this national competition. Thousands of people sat in the stadium waiting for the festivities to start.
I couldn’t help but laugh and think, “oh my goodness, I live in Asia.”. The event was aired live on national television and hosted by two of the countries most famous VJ’s. The stadium filled with hysteria throughout the show when famous Korean pop and hip hop groups performed live. The five judges were then introduced one at a time as they break danced on stage before bowing to screaming to fans. Two American break dance aficionado’s were on the judging panel along with three famous Korean BBoys (one of which is the lead star of the theatrical production Ballerina Falls in Love with a BBoy which I saw in early May).
The hosts then introduced each of the six competing teams who hailed from Seoul, Daegu and Busan. Each of the teams was colour coordinated and attempting to look as thug-like as possible. I couldn’t help but think that these faux gangs would not survive well in the Bronx. Two teams sparred at a time with six minutes on the clock. The comical competitive nature of the dance competition was delightful and the athletic talent of some of the dancers was mind blowing. Little Asian energizer bunny’s spinning on the floor and prancing around on all fours as light as a feather. Whenever an impressive move was performed one of the announcers would shout in a “gangsta Korean” accent, “that was phat,” or “yo yo mad dawg that was tight!” Crowds roared, screamed, waved their team colours. The general mood was reminiscent of static electricity: balloon and wool nit v-neck.
I was such a Debby Downer. After the preliminary trials I could barely keep my eyes open. I was feeling under the weather and decided to head home early. As always, when I’m not entirely alert I find myself victimized by this hectic city. To survive Seoul you need to be awake. I spent the next thirty minutes on the subway, only to realize that I had gone in the wrong direction and gotten off at the wrong transfer. Entirely peeved at my mistake I gripped the railing along the stairs and had a dramatic Oscar winning break down moment. I gripped my chest, kicked my feet in the air and uttered liberal catch phrases. After laughing myself to the top of the escalator I motioned for a taxi home.
On Sunday I woke up with the strong urge to compulsively clean my apartment. One must always take advantage of this impulse as it doesn’t drop by very often. I decided the job would best be performed in the nude while dancing to the timeless Ray of Light album. I bleached my floors, rearranged my furniture, cleaned the dishes in the sink and showered myself spotless. I spent the afternoon writing and preparing for my duo dinner party.
My friend Hunter from Houston arrived shortly after 6pm. We sipped on Chilean Riesling while I put the finishing touches to our meal. We watched hilarious episodes of The American Life and 30 Rock while nibbling. I had whipped together a Lemon Rosemary Gruyere Risotto with roasted almonds beurre blanc. It slowly simmered throughout the afternoon. The aroma of caramelized onions on the stove is alarmingly addictive. I also toasted a French baguette with olive oil and garlic. Once cooled I covered the crispy surface with diced sweet peppers, halved cherry tomatoes and mozzarella cheese. Broiled for a few minutes and dipped in balsamic, olive oil and roasted pine nuts, splendiferous.
It had been another Weekend of We. Constantly in contact with other people, my lips curled as I contemplated the idea of meditation and productive aloneness. With a spanking clean apartment and not much else to do I felt a bit free and relaxed. I have always been fascinated by people who claim they can zone out in a room by themselves and focus on not thinking. Does meditation have a sound track? I assumed maybe Enya might work but I didn’t want my first attempt at mediation to be fraught with corny in memories of 90’s Spa background music.
I decided the perfect ballad would be The One Hit Wonder, Sophie B Hawkins’, As I Lay Me Down. Played on repeat of course. I hit play, turned off the lights and lay flat on my back in the middle of the room. I could have used a vanilla scented mood candle, or a lava lamp or maybe even strobe lights. I spent the next three arduous minutes trying to relax my body and empty my thoughts. I was clearly not cut out for meditation. Shortly after the songs first run through I found myself compelled to stretch across the floor. In my head I was thinking, “this is so great, I should stretch more often it is amazing for my health and posture.” Instead of stillness, I ended up bobbing my head and tapping my fingers along the faux hardwood to the lyrics, “As I lay me down to sleep, this I pray, that you would hold me dear, though I fall away. I whisper your name into the sky. And I will wake up happy.”
Ten minutes later I was sitting at my computer researching the Mongolian nomadic tradition. My mind wanders. I am impulsive. I was clearly not cut out for solitary confinement.
I slid into bed and felt so sad for all of those Catholic nuns, Buddhist monks and Hindu yogi’s sitting in utter silence. The way I see it…if we have any hope of realizing a utopia mind space we’ll need as much noise as possible. But then again, there are all those deaf people! So school me.
