3 Year Anniversary

I have been blogging for 3 years! I started AmberAnda when I moved out of Bellingham in late October 2007. I think my first entry was about leaving the flower shop. Then I did a trip back east to Washington DC and South Carolina, flying there and driving a friend's new car back to Bellingham. Between my first time in our nation's capital, visiting a nudist community, driving thousands of miles cross-country by myself, and staying with BYU students in the heart of Mormon Utah, I had plenty of fodder for my first few blog entries.

Since then I have traveled throughout much of Latin America, sailed in Canada, lived in a yurt on an island, and moved to South Korea. In Spanish, I would translate Amber Anda "Amber on the Go" or "Amber Ambles", though for chunks of the last 3 years I have lived in one place. Whether traveling or staying put, experiencing the exciting or mundane, I have cherished this blog as a steady place to just write whatever I felt like. It's probably telling that I started it a few months after graduating college- with no more assigned papers, I missed having a reason to write in my life. Thank you for reading, whether you have stopped by once or are a regular follower. I appreciate having this means of communication.

Hey! While we're here, I might as well tell you about last Saturday. It centered around one of the most quintessentially Korean things possible- kimchi! This spicy fermented cabbage side dish is ubiquitous in Korean culture, and fall is the traditional time to make it, when the last of all the cabbage is harvested. The main vegetable of kimchi doesn't have to cabbage though- it can be radish, greens, or anything you want really. The vegetable is soaked in salt water, then coated with layers of chili paste, garlic, ginger, brined anchovies or shrimp, fish sauce, green onion, and other varying ingredients depending on preference and region. Since coming to Korea I have eaten it at least once a day, and truly love it. It is full of flavor and just feels... alive. Yesterday I went 2 hours south to Gwangju for the huge annual Kimchi Festival. You can sample chili pastes and powders, try different kinds of kimchi, fusion kimchi foods, watch live music and dance, go to kimchi exhibits, learn new kimchi recipes, meet contemporary Kimchi masters, buy a special kimchi fermenting pot or fridge, among many other things. Check out the mascots- huge napa cabbage next to a daikon radish.

Above is one of the many sampling booths that you had to elbow your way into if you actually wanted to try anything. I went with another teacher friend who I met at the Great Wall of China in July. She lives in Gwangju, and along with her friends, we made our own cabbage kimchi which we got to take home in nifty little pails.


Also, being foreigners, we got our pictures taken a lot by local press, and one friend got interviewed about kimchi. It was fun, and I'm hoping to make more of my own kimchi before fall is over. I actually planted a big bed of cabbage in my school garden, but it still has awhile to go before it will be full-sized. After having our fill of all things kimchi-related, we headed to downtown Gwangju for dinner. We went to an Indian/Nepalese restaurant which was INCREDIBLY exciting for me. I mean, I REALLY like a lot of Korean food, but the lack of variety after 7 months gets hard to deal with. Eating curry, chicken saag, and garlic naan was amazing. It was just nice to get out of Gunsan and see something different, and experience flavors Korean and foreign.

Gym Rat

About 2 months ago I joined a Korean gym. I had been running outside, but the summer was so humid that I wanted an indoor option. Sometimes I would run in the morning and it wouldn't be hot yet, yet in 10 minutes I would be sweating. I had never experienced sweating the the cool weather before. Korea has plenty of "fitness centers" around town, and for the most part they are pretty similar to a small American gym. Luckily this one is right in my neighborhood since convenience is key for consistent workouts.

Hey, have you ever seen these weighted hula hoops with the bumps? The bumps poke you and leave red marks, but apparently it's good for weight loss. I don't understand the science behind it but they are really popular here. Anyway, the gym has one main room with modern weight machines, free weights, treadmills, and stationery bicycles. It has locker rooms, sauna, and one classroom that is open during the day, and holds yoga and aerobics classes in the evenings.

I took yoga for about a month, but have decided this particular style is not for me. I enjoyed it for awhile- a good age mix of students, a tiny, burly instructor, and a good workout- even while not speaking Korean. But in addition to adjusting students' poses, the instructor would also push on us, and more than once I left class with my shoulders or knees hurting, and not in the good way. I would love to have a regular yoga practice here, but going to a class separate from the gym would be expensive and impractical, so I'll have to wait on that. I considered the aerobics class, but that's a different beast altogether- mostly 30 and 40-something women in outfits that look like a jazzercise/cheerleading/punk rock combo. The energy is high, the look is defined, the music is deafening, the pace is fast, and the room is already packed to the brim, so I've stayed away.

What I do really like about this gym is that it's incredibly chill. Every one is there to focus on their workout, and no one bats an eye at the foreign girl panting over by the chest press. I get stared at less at the gym than any other public place in Gunsan, so it's sort of like my safe haven. Two of my foreign guy friends in the neighborhood also go there, but I'm the only foreign woman.

Of course, there are some differences from a gym back home. You keep your workout shoes there, so they are indoor exercising shoes, not the same ones you would use outside. You don't wear shoes in the locker room-they provide slippers. The locker room etiquette is much more open, with loud talking while taking a long shower, or women standing in front of the mirror brushing their hair before bothering to get dressed. It's also common to see a bare leg propped up on a bench while a woman blow-dries her lady-region. It never, ever occurred to that that area would need any more than air-drying. From friends I've talked to, the men's locker room sounds pretty similar.

Workout clothes are different too. The gym provides shorts and a T-shirt for members, blue for the men, red for women. You can change into a clean set when you get there and put it in the hamper when you leave. There is only one size, which in the U.S. would never work, but here the one size really does fit all. It makes me feel a little bit like I'm in a middle-school P.E. class, but I actually like it. Less stinky clothes for me to take home and wash. Most members wear the uniform, but if they don't, they sport outfits like these ones: shirt, short skirt, flesh-colored tights, and leg warmers.

There is also an assortment of massage-type machines. This wooden one rolls around while you set your legs on it. It feels great on the calves. There is one where you stand and put a big belt around your torso and it vibrates, massaging where ever you move it to. And another one you stand on and it rock/vibrates you from side to side... I'm not sure what it does. There are a few large "inspirational" pictures of people working out, but they are all white people, which I find odd. Why don't they hang up pictures of fit Koreans?

The only other things of note are the funny signs or translations. The weight machines have instructions in English which are dubious, and the TV on the treadmill warns us against "watching too much monitor". And there is a garbage can in the women's locker room with a picture of two rabbits, the boy holding carrots and the girl holding flowers. It says, "It is a strange rabbit who prefers flowers to carrots." Anyway, I'm really enjoying the gym, going consistently, and it will be great to have the sauna when the weather gets even colder.

Getting Out on Saturdays

I'm still really enjoying living in Korea, but after a rough patch including a bad haircut and loathing my city, I know it's time to be more proactive. I'm slowly accepting getting 6 months of hair growth chopped off into a Renaissance page-boy look, and also embracing hats as the temperature drops.

And as for Gunsan, it's more bearable as long as I can get out of town regularly on the weekends. Last Saturday a group of teachers went to Jeonju for the day, which is about 45 minutes away, and the capital of our province. It's still a small city, but much livelier and more cultured than Gunsan. We watched the last soccer game of the season, the drizzle and 0-0 score not dampening our spirits.

We went out for galbi, a type of Korean BBQ, in the university district, with plenty of side dishes and soju. It wasn't much different from a meal we might have in Gunsan, but it was just refreshing to be somewhere different, ya know?

Then we went to Art and Travel, a cafe-bar in the same neighborhood that has Western-style drinks, hookahs, travel photos on the wall, games to play, and hosts open mike nights. There is NOTHING like this in Gunsan. We played Scrabble while listening to poetry and live music, and Cherie and I even got up on the microphone to do an impromptu duet.

On Sunday I went to visit my friend Alex who is a new mama. Congrats to Kenton and Alex! They already have an ADORABLE one-year-old daughter, and just welcomed a son.


This past Saturday I went to Jirisan National Park. This is a place I've been wanting to go for months, as it has the tallest mountain in mainland Korea and many other peaks as well. I thought visibility might be better in the fall when it's not so hazy, and indeed it was better but not great. We still got a few vistas and the autumn foliage was beautiful.



I was with my 3 favorite hiking buddies, and we were making good time up the mountain. We stopped at Jangteomok Shelter for a lunch break. Instead of wraps or sandwiches that we might have hiking at home, as foreigners our fall back food is usually kimbab (seaweed/rice rolls). That plus "trail" food like nuts, granola bars, apples, and crackers. But Koreans always bring a stove and are eating hot ramyeon and kimchi side dishes.

After the shelter, the trail was really crowded. Maneuvering the foot traffic, we finally made it to the peak, along with masses of other people. We snapped a quick picture before descending down another trail. We thought it would take us about the same amount of time to go down as up, 3.5 hours. We had gotten a decently early start, and would have no trouble getting down by dark, and possibly in time to catch buses back to Gunsan.

But the trail was really hard to navigate. I have never seen switch-backs in Korea; they just build the trails straight up the mountain. Then to avoid erosion (I'm guessing) they line the trail with large, uneven stones. What it creates is a steep, inconsistent, and slippery path. It's really quite trecherous in parts. We were taking it pretty slow. Then one of my friends slipped on a janky staircase and slid down, dislocating both shoulders. It was a very frightening moment, though it definitely could have been worse. So after that we took it even more slowly. Soon after, a helicopter flew overhead, sending leaves and residual water pelting down on us. In the distance, we could see it lower a man down to do a medical evacuation.

Then, less than an hour later, some rangers passed us, leading a man carefully by the elbow. He was walking stiffly with a foam sleeping pad wrapped around his torso like a brace. Another helicopter flew over us, and the rangers stopped us on the trail. We couldn't pass until they evacuated this man, so we waited in the incredibly strong double-blade chopper wind and roar. Clearly, this was a fairly dangerous trail. We continued cautiously, watching each step. Eventually it started getting dark, and the last 1.4 kilometers were in the dark with headlamps and flashlights.

We knew that the exit trailhead had restaurants and hotels, so we weren't worried about that. It was just a matter of pushing through tiredness, and not losing patience on a trail where you wanted to move much faster but simply couldn't. When we finally reached paved road, it had never felt so good to just walk, full strides, without watching our feet. We got a room and a hot dinner and all crashed out early, exhausted. We agreed that we weren't sure if we conquered the mountain or it conquered us, but it was definitely an epic day that none of us would forget.

Jeju Island

Last Tuesday was the start of the Chuseok holiday, and my friend Aaron and I left Gunsan in the morning and took a bus 2.5 hours south to coastal city of Mokpo. Ferries leave from Mokpo to Jeju, a large island off the coast. There are domestic flights to Jeju from many cities, but even a month ago flights from Gunsan were already sold out since it was a holiday time. Most of the ferries were already sold out too, but luckily we were able to book tickets to come back on Friday. I was excited to go but a little apprehensive about the weather and my travel partner. My worries proved completely unfounded as everything went without a hitch and we had an awesome time.

We got from the bus terminal to the ferry just as they started boarding. There were many Korean on the boat, but SO MANY foreigners too. It's so strange how I've gotten used to seeing only a handful of foreigners in Gunsan, so when I see more it's a little overwhelming. It amazes me that I could talk to all of them AND they would understand me! Incredible. You have the option of booking luxury rooms, family rooms, seats, or general seating Korean-style on the floor. You have to take your shoes off and there are just hoards of people lounging, sleeping, playing cards, etc. We hung out on deck most of the time, chatting with other passengers (met one from Spokane!) and watching the scenery. I was SO happy to be on the water... I felt relaxed and at home and the 5 hours flew by.



We watched the sunset over the water and got into Jeju City at dark. Surprisingly, there were no free taxis outside the terminal, already busy with the holiday crowds. We hopped on a bus and I was so impressed with the patience of the driver as English-speaking passengers tried to ascertain where the bus went. All the transportation and service people on Jeju proved to be incredibly helpful and friendly over the next few days, not at all jaded by the tourists. We made it to the City Hall area for dinner and drinks before calling it an early night at our hotel.

We got up early the next morning headed to the trail head for Hallasan. Hallasan is the highest mountain in Korea and sits within the only National Park on the island. There are two different trails to the peak, so we decided to go up one and down the other. It was drizzling and foggy when we started, but we hoped for the best and plowed forward. Actually, Aaron hoped for the best and I grumbled in disappointment. He said he would start charging me 100 won (about 10 cents) every time I complained about something, and it made me remember that if I can't say something nice, I shouldn't say anything at all.

The rain stopped and by the time we got into the valley, it was fairly clear. It was steep and grassy in a glowing green, reminding me of a cross between Peru and Scotland.

When we climbed out of the valley though, we got back into the clouds, and as we neared the top we couldn't see anything. In fact, we could hear a crowd of voices, but it wasn't until we were about 30 feet away that we realized we had reached the peak. Usually you can see into the crater at the top of this extinct volcano, but today this was our view.



We headed down the rocky trail, and decided to just appreciate the hike for the good exercise. It was over 18 kilometers, so a pretty decent day hike. We went back to the city for tea and then a Mexican dinner. How I miss ethnic food! We got chimichangas and burritos, with nachos as an appetizer... and the nachos even came before our meal, so novel! In Korea, all the food is served at once, so staggered courses felt like a treat. Then we caught a bus out of the city to a beach on the north side of the island. There was a designated camping area... but there was no one else there. We had this beach completely to ourselves. It was my first time sleeping outside all year! It was a beautiful spot, but crazy windy that night. I woke up about 20 times as the wind violently rattled the tent, but felt decently rested and got another early start.


The coast is striking because there is so much volcanic rock, the black contrasting with the tropical blue-green of the water and the white surf. We took the bus to Manjangul, which is the largest lava tube in the world. It was cool to walk through part of it, but just a dark tube so no point in posting pictures. Then to the far east side of the island to Seongsan Ilchulbong, a volcanic tuff cone right on the water. The rock is so porous that water soaks through and there is no crater lake.


You get a nice view of the sea and west to Hallasan mountain. This is also a popular spot for the haenyo, the traditional female divers of Jeju that use no equipment as they dive for seaweed and seafood. We weren't there at the right time of day to see them though. For lunch we tried a regional fish soup called 갈 치 국 (gal chi gook), a red-pepper based soup with the local hair-tail fish.


Then to the south side, where we saw two different waterfalls before heading to our next campsite. This side of the island has more of a lush jungle feel, and is even more laid-back. At our next beach we set up camp as the sun was setting, again the only campers until a Korean couple came much later that night. We were pretty tired from a full day of walking around with our packs, and walked with aching legs into the small "town" area for dinner. We had 똥 돼 지 (ddong dweji), which is pork BBQ from a local black-skinned pig. It was SO delicious. Amazing flavor, good side dishes, Hallasan soju, and us being ravenous all contributed to this being one of my favorite meals in Korea. After the meat we decided to share some bibimbap (rice with veggies), as it is common to eat a rice or noodle dish as a sort of "dessert" at the end of the meal. I'm usually too full for this after eating BBQ, but today it was perfect and we joked about our morphing Korean eating habits.

It wasn't as windy on the southside and we slept better that night, with the sounds of the waves and birds so nearby. In the morning we had the beach to ourselves for a good hour. It was already sunny and warm at 8am, and the water was clear and warm too. In my mind, it was an ideal place to swim. But there were big signs prohibiting swimming, saying "The beach is only officially open for swimming in July and August." I am about 99% sure that this has nothing to do with safety-- no rip tides, stinging jellyfish, or sharks-- just that those are summer months and "appropriate" times to swim. If any one has any light to shed on this prohibition of swimming on a perfectly good beach, please let me know!

It's September, barely the shoulder season, and warmer than any beach I've ever been on in Washington state. I thought maybe they didn't want to pay lifeguards to staff the beach all year. Aaron had brought a mask and snorkel, so I enjoyed my favorite clandestine moments on Jeju of swimming in the early morning and watching fish. At 9am sharp, a loud voice started shouting in Korean over the loudspeaker. I doubted they were saying good morning, and I quickly scrambled out of the water. So much for my lack-of-staffing theory. By that time tourists were pouring in, and they looked scandalized that Aaron and I were in bathing suits. This is the one part of Jeju I can't reconcile- how can it be this tropical paradise with great weather and numerous beaches and yet discourage swimming 10 months of the year?


We took in more of the coastline seeing cliffs and basalt columns. It was a hot day, my muscles were sore, and I was a little tired of carrying my backpack. But it was a GOOD tired. The kind of tired where resting and eating feels amazing, where you are so appreciative of every little thing. We walked up to another waterfall, stopping at a corner store for snacks before the entrance to the falls. I sat there in shade, completely blissed out. "I LOVE sitting here. I am SO happy about eating this kimbap. This iced coffee is EXACTLY what I want. I'm so GLAD I have plenty of water!" The few days before Chuseok, I was having a rough time and not exactly grateful for everything. I think it took coming to the island, and unwinding into the beauty of the land and water to shake my mind from its negative thoughts. Sometimes tiring yourself out is the only way to release the pent-up energy you need to let go of. Traveling allows you to focus on visual beauty and also on meeting your basic needs, and somehow this combination is very therapuetic.

I have to give Aaron props for being an awesome travel buddy. He is waaaay more laid back than I am, and is able to accomplish something without over-analyzing it or getting stressed out. I do more research though, so we were a good balance to each other. By the time we got back to Jeju City, we had time for a late lunch before boarding the ferry for the 5 hour trip back to the mainland. Those 3 days felt expansive and clearing, and we got back to Gunsan with most of the weekend still left! Happy Chuseok indeed.

Gearing up for Chuseok

This week is a one-day work week! It's Korean Thanksgiving, or Chuseok, on Wednesday. On this holiday, people go back to their hometowns to spend time with family. They visit ancestors' graves and make offerings of food. Then they eat a large meal with many side dishes. The signature Chuseok food is songpyeon, traditional rice cakes. There are many different kinds, and can be plain or include sweet sesame filling, nuts, fruit, or red bean. We made songpyeon as a staff today at work since we had no classes. We made the green kind, which is rice flour with mugwort for color. You make balls, shape them, fill them, pinch the ends together, then steam them for about 20 minutes.



Oh, notice how I'm wearing a hat? Yeah, still pretty upset about the haircut. Sigh. Anyway, you can see the difference in color before and after cooking the green songpyeon.



The grocery stores feel the same way that they do right before Thanksgiving in the U.S. Crowded with people and big displays and a sort of palpable buzz. Here they sell lots of boxes of fruit, mushrooms, spam, tuna, and other assorted gift packs.

For those of us who don't have family obligations for Chuseok, it's the perfect time to take a little trip! I'm going to Jeju Island tomorrow, which is off the southern tip of Korea. I first read about it on my flight from Seattle to Seoul in the in-flight magazine, wondering if I would ever go there. It is touted as the polynesia or Hawaii of Korea. Beaches, lava rocks, traditional female divers, striking cliffs, and the tallest mountain in the country. I've heard good things and I'm pretty excited.

I'm trying not to let the negativity of the last couple days permeate my week any more. If I wanted to focus on the negative, I would point out that it is supposed to rain all week. On my BEACH holiday! When I am supposed to finally go CAMPING for the first time this year! And that I'm going with my ex boyfriend, because we already had tickets and plans and well, neither of us wanted to go alone or waste the ticket money, so... It's pretty ironic considering it's the "honeymoon" island and prime destination for couples. Instead of getting frustrated, I'm trying to take a lighthearted approach. I'm working on my attitude adjustment. And having a few days off will probably help. Wish me luck!

And Happy Chuseok!

Road and Other Rage

I thought I was a patient, open-minded person.

I really did. But I am having a low point in Korea today. I am trying not to take it personally that simple, simple tasks are so difficult and traumatizing today. First, I got the worst haircut of my life. The haircut itself isn't bad as long as you are going for a suburban mom look (even when you are single and urban). Even though I don't speak Korean, I showed the woman how much to cut on my hair, no more than half an inch. I don't know how to say "trim" in Korean, but I thought showing her would be explicit enough. She proceeded to chop about 2 inches off my already short hair that I have been trying to grow out.

Why I didn't say something... I don't know. I should have. I am just as angry at myself as I am at her. It's hard in a foreign language, and I don't want to be rude or demanding. I thought she wasn't really taking that much off, but by the time I walked out of the barber shop and ran my fingers through my hair, I was totally deflated. I burst into tears which I have never done before. Over the last few months, I have felt longish hair and been able to put my hair in a ponytail for the first time in 5 years. It's so superficial, I know, but I was really excited about it. To have all that length chopped off is devastating, especially because my hair doesn't grow very fast. Here's a picture of how I feel about this hair cut.

Then after that I rode my bike to a friend's house for a Korean lesson and movie watching. I was crossing the street and I KNOW riding a bike is different at home than in Korea. In the US, you can't even turn right on a red light in all states, and if you can, you have to first stop behind the crosswalk before pulling forward. Here crosswalks and crosslights are just a suggestion. You think you have the right-of-way yet it's a cruel joke. But my US-trained mind saw the green walk light and started crossing. Meanwhile a car sped through the crosswalk. Luckily, we both saw each other in time for him to slow down and me to swerve, but he still hit me and I was thrown foward off my bicycle. It's the first time (and hopefully last) that I've ever been hit by a car. I wasn't hurt but just very angry. The driver seemed concerned as I yelled at him, "I had the green light!! Why don't you look before speeding through the intersection?!" I was more scared than anything, and sat on the sidewalk crying for the second time in 2 hours. I moved my bike out of the road for the honking cars and walked it to my friend's apartment.

I'm just tired of it taking so much mental energy to maneuver like 5 blocks to my friend's house. I have to say, when you drive on the right side of the road, always staying to the right is a VERY logical idea. Imagine the Burke-Gilman trail if people didn't stay to the right, and just walked and cycled and roller-bladed all over the trail with their headphones on. It would be unnecessary chaos. And that's how riding a bike and walking in Korea is, ALL THE TIME. I am trying to be culturally sensitive and not impose my subjective standards on other people. Some friends recently reminded me that 1) Korea was occupied for Japan for a good chunk of the last century and in Japan they walk on the left. So Koreans are used to walking on the left but driving on the right, so road etiquette is a bit scrambled. And 2) Public transportation is really good and the average Korean hasn't been driving their own car for that long, not like Americans who have been developing their road rules and driving culture for almost a century. Culturally, Koreans are fairly new drivers. Okay, okay, I'm taking a deep breath trying to be positive. Happy thought- it's finally cooling off and I can wear a beanie for the indeterminate future.

Halfway Point

As of today, I have been in Korea for 6 months. As soon as you start teaching here, people are already asking if you plan on staying a second year. "Uh, I've only been here a few weeks so it's hard to say," I would reply. Now that I've been here half a year, I finally have a more defined impression of things.

I am very grateful to Korea to give me a job and the chance to live here. As a whole, the country is dedicated to learning English, and from native speakers. My Korean coteachers are awesome- such helpful, resourceful, fun people to work with. I really like the food here- a good balance of meat, tons of different vegetables, and spice. I still can't speak much Korean, but I can read and write Korean (hangul) and feel pretty cool using a non-Roman script. Life is simple and low-stress compared to back home, with no car and minimal bills. When you do pay bills you can do it at any ATM which is an easy and brilliant system I wish we had in the U.S. You can transfer money from your account into any account in the country, business or personal, as long as you have the bank name and account number. No mailing checks or setting up PayPal. It's awesome.

But of course it's not all kittens and roses living abroad. Before I left, my mom's Korean friend told me a Korean proverb which is, "You know the number of chopsticks in your neighbor's kitchen." It's true. There are 50 million people living in this country the size of Indiana, mostly residing in new and cheaply-built apartments with minimal insulation. You hear EVERYTHING. I don't know when any one sleeps, because there is always some one making noise. I would probably know the details of all my neighbors' habits if I could understand them. Not speaking Korean is very frustrating, for me as well as Koreans who have to interact with me. I am really, really tired of always being stared at. For a country that has so much international business, American TV shows, American movies always in the theater, foreign models on billboards, and competes in the Olympics and World Cup, it surprises me that I get looked at like an alien all the time. Riding a bike here is liberating and also completely infuriating. Cars don't follow traffic laws and are totally unpredictable, and pedestrians walk in bike lanes all the time. I mean, I don't speak Korean but I'm pretty sure that the PICTURE OF A BIKE PAINTED EVERY 20 FEET translates "bike lane". I could be wrong.

There have been many ups and downs these last few months, but overall I'm comfortable and have figured out how to get by on the day-to-day tasks (thanks largely to coworkers who translate, explain, look up bus schedules, and make phone calls for me) . So my official stance on whether or not to stay another year in Korea is that I would be open to teaching here longer, but not immediately following this contract. I really want to be back in the U.S. for more than a few weeks, plus I'd like to do some other traveling as well. And I would NOT stay in Gunsan another year. Maybe if I were raising a family or doing a Masters online or had something major to inspire me... but otherwise another year here would drive me insane. I know there are many parts of Korea with more cultural action, but here there is absolutely nothing in the way of live music, poetry, literature, independent film, dance, or art galleries. It makes my heart ache.

I've learned a lot in my 6th months here, like that apartment floors get dirty fast, even when I take my shoes off at the door and sweep and mop all the time. It REALLY makes me leery of carpet.

I've learned to make new friends but keep the old; one is silver and the other gold... as my mom always said.

I've learned you can grow an amazing amount of food with no irrigation, especially if the growing season is the rainy season.

I've learned that pointing to your wrist and looking quizzical is no longer a charade for asking the time. I've done it several times here and only gotten puzzled looks. Every one uses their cell phone as their time piece.

I've learned that few foods make me feel as healthy as kimchi, but even a wide variety of kimchi is no substitute for cheese, glorious cheese.

I've learned there are many types of people who teach English abroad, for all sorts of reasons.

I've learned so much more, and there are 100 more things I want to say, ideas to share, images to convey. I want to stay up late with you dear reader, drinking tea and chatting nonstop, scraping out my brain and trying to show it all to you. But it's impossible, of course. For now I will just say that I'm very happy that it is the day it is, and I am where I am. The past week has been cooler, heavenly bearable. I still wear shorts and short-sleeves, but instead of sweating I am perfectly comfortable. The sky is bluer, the air clearer as the humidity decreases. Even when it rains it's nice- cleans the air instead of just feeling like a sauna. I had a mellow weekend of walking, riding bikes, watching movies, and having dinner with the first friends I met from Gunsan. Very fitting for my anniversary.

We rode bikes under the grey sky, the air still thick but a cool breeze blowing. We rode just out of the city, through the fields, the same ones I watched being planted months ago with short plugs of sprouting rice. Now they are 3 feet tall, with seed heads bending just so. When do they harvest? We rode past the little country homes with strong squash vines growing up the sides and tops of the houses. A pumpkin hangs from a gate and a zucchini is visible on the roof, an explosion of food. Then out of the fields and onto the main road where the gritty dust from the factories stings my eyes. This is the long long street of refineries, glass, cement, and paper plants. But gardens still creep out of forgotten crevices, peppers and dandelions, cabbage and flowers. We ride under the fruit canopy of persimmon, pears, kumquats that hang over the sidewalk. We get back to town just as the sky opens, fat drops hitting us as we duck in for lunch. We sip miso soup and watch yellow leaves spin toward the ground. I've never been so ready for autumn.

Seoraksan and Summer's End

Growing up in Seattle, summer always came too late and ended too soon. Those few glorious months of heat would leave all residents, adults and children alike, wanting a little more sun.

So it feels strange, almost sacrilegious, to admit that I'm ready for this summer to be over. Summer is a different beast here in South Korea- a hot, humid, relentless one. In the Pacific Northwest, even a scorching hot day usually cools off at night. Not so here. It is always warm, and on bike rides home even late at night I will be dripping sweat. I literally haven't worn a pair of pants or a long sleeve shirt in months. I miss my pants.

Another reason for being ready for summer to end is the lopsided work schedule. In the summer we had a lot of "office time", aka "desk warming", aka having to be at work with not a lot to do. I tried to stay busy with productive activities, but most teachers end up painfully bored.

On the flip side, we also taught a 3-week summer camp, and I was in charge of the drama classes. We had to put on a short English play with 64 middle school students. It was an absolutely crazy 3 weeks of nonstop work. Imagine putting on a full production with that many middle school students in the U.S... then imagine it in a second language. Holy cow. Luckily my Korean co-teacher had taught drama in the past, and was an amazing source of ideas and experience. Other staff helped as well to fill in the gaps where I didn't have the time or knowledge: two teachers choreographed and taught the dances, the music teacher practiced the songs in his music classes, an intern who is going to Stanford this fall translated the whole script for the parents; a design intern painted the backdrop and made props; another intern downloaded sound clips and ran the audio. In the end, everything came together amazingly well, with many parents attending as well as the Head of the Provincial Board of Education and the Mayor of Gunsan!

Before settling in to a steady, cooler fall routine, I wanted to take one last trip. Seoraksan is a huge National Park in the northeast corner of the country. It has beautiful peaks, waterfalls, hot springs, temples, rock faces, and caves. Summer is the high season to visit, though fall is very popular also when the leaves start to change. I have gone on many smaller hikes this summer and had limited visibility in the humid air. I was really hoping for some good views, knowing that it's always a gamble with the weather. I was also really excited to "backpack" as much as is possible in Korea. As far as I can tell, there are no real "back country" wilderness areas. The national parks are large, but they will have railings along the trails and crowds even in the deepest areas. Camping and cooking and swimming are prohibited... which is good for preservation, but bad for folks who seek a less controlled mountain experience. Some parks, including Seoraksan, have shelters though. These are rustic structures with long wooden bunks, a cooking shack, and toilets, and can be reserved ahead of time. So our plans was to start in the northeast part at the Seorak-dong entrance, backpack all day up to the Jungcheongbong shelter, hike up Daecheongbong peak, then hike out the next day to Osaek to the south.

My friend Bryony and I arrived by bus in Sokcho in the northeast coast of Korea about 7 hours after leaving Gunsan, then took a city bus to Seorak-dong. We were going to camp there but it was pouring rain so we decided to check into a hotel instead. We walked up to the ranger station which had just closed for the evening, but luckily they came out to talk to us anyway. It turned out that with all the heavy rains the trail to Jungcheongbong and Daecheongbong were closed. They said maybe the trail would re-open Sunday. It was Thursday, so we definitely couldn't wait that long. This is our sad face after we realized our backpacking plans were foiled.

We were bummed, but we both kept a positive and flexible, "Let's make the best of it!" attitude. There was still a lot of hiking to do from the Seorak-dong entrance, including temples...

...a steep hike to Ulsan Bawi and decent views when the clouds parted...

... and a beautiful hike through a river valley to a cave in a high cliffside that is also a Buddhist shrine.

We also hiked to a waterfall that evening- a flat walk that felt like nothing after our steep trails of the day. We had gained over 1,400 meters of elevation (4,200 feet) that day. I woke up early the next morning not feeling sore anywhere... except my calves. We managed to hobble out to catch the bus back to Sokcho and around the park to the Osaek entrance. It hadn't rained the day before, so we were hoping the trail to Daecheongbong would be open. By the time the various bus connections got us to the trailhead, it was already noon. The ranger asked if we planned to get to the peak and back, and we said yes. He looked skeptical. "It's 8 hours roundtrip," he said. "Seven!" I countered, as though we were bargaining. "We'll be fast, we have lights, no problem!" Bryony and I assured him. We really didn't want to hike in the dark, but we had come so far to get here that we had to attempt it. We had also agreed that we could tap out anytime if we were too tired. "Where are you from?" he asked. "Mi-gook!" (America) I said. I don't know if that swayed his acceptance of our crazy plan (we didn't mention that Bryony was British) but finally he nodded and said, "Hurry".

So with calves already aching from the day before, we powered up the stone staircase of a trail. In the U.S. we would make switchbacks, but in Korea it's straight up the mountain. We barely stopped to rest as we ascended 1,000 meters (3,000 feet) in the worsening afternoon weather. It was getting cooler, foggier, and looked like rain could start any moment. We reached the top in 2 hours 45 minutes, tired but exhilarated. We were on the 3rd highest peak in Korea and couldn't see a thing!

It began raining on the descent. We hoped the same ranger would be at the trailhead when we returned so we could gloat over our triumphant 5:20 time, but it was all new faces. We managed to catch the last bus back to Seoul, buying our ticket at a tiny ticket office which was also a convenience store. The ajumma let us change clothes in her back room before settling into the bus dry, exhausted, and happy.