some odds and ends

it's been ages since i had the chance to really write. thailand tales still await. in the meantime, there's this...

a new do!

fun party times!

a day on the boat!

oh, to be home

saturday was an epic san francisco day. while spending the afternoon lolling about in the sun (and rather cold wind) on "homo hill" in dolores park, as it is affectionately known, i witnessed something that, i'm sure, only happens in this city. a guy was wandering around offering happy chocolates to the sunbathers. i watched him make his way around the hill. then, i noticed something sparkle, something glint in the sunlight. the tell-tale copper bowls of the happy truffle guy. a smile spread across my face as i watched him set his two beautiful sets of bowls on the ground. it was good to know that he's still around. i then saw the happy chocolate guy stop at the same spot as the happy truffle guy. from a distance, i watched the happy chocolate guy buy a bag of happy truffles from the happy truffle guy. fabulous kizmet. ah, to be home...(you get the idea...)

later that evening, while walking to meet my friend for a drink at cafe flor in the castro, i caught sight of two sisters of perpetual indulgence (www.thesisters.org/) kneeling on the ground, talking to a 7 year old girl and her mom. i just had to stop and watch this interaction. if you know the sisters, you can imagine the mixture of fear and complete fascination they might inspire in a small girl. well, this girl was doing this dance around her mom, peeking out every few minutes from behind her mom's legs. the sisters were just wonderful. they were telling the girl that they had been giving blessings to lots of kids all night and they wanted to give her a blessing. she wasn't too keen on it. but they kept talking. telling her about their magical little box of blessing glitter. then they offered her something even more special: an angle pin that she could name for herself. they offered it to her, but she declined. she agreed to let her mom take it for safe keeping. she named the angle Julia.

when the mom and daughter departed, i had to tell the sisters what an amazing little interaction that had been for me to witness. i just felt this incredible surge of pride and total joy at the idea that here are these incredible people who "promulgate universal joy, expiate stigmatic guilt and serve the community." they just rock. and i told them as much. we chatted for a minute, and then they opened up their magical box and blessed me with a mixture of glitter, sand from the temple of isis and holy water from notre dame. it was a gift from their sisters in Paris. and then they gave me a red boa feather from Paris. it was ridiculous and wonderful. we hugged and kissed and i was on my way.

later at cafe flor, after a glass of wine with my friend, i walked inside to get another drink and was caught with my mouth agape at the gaggle of trannies in the corner, perhaps celebrating a birthday. apparently, it was a latina trannie fundraiser event at the cafe. who knew? the ladies were fierce. my friend called them mean disco balls with asses. and only in the best possible way. they were well endowed, to say the least, in every direction. and their outfits were, well, almost not really outfits at all. just little scraps of nylon strung together with rhinestones and gold lame. fabulous.

if that wasn't a day to remind me why i live in and love this city, i don't know what is. and today, at city hall, Phyllis Lyon and Del Martin, who have been together for over 50 years, were married in the one of the first same-sex weddings in California after the supreme court ruling. these sisters are in their 80's. it's good to be home...

my latest project

some of you may know that i've been working on a project for burning man this year called the temple of community. you can check it out here: http://tribes.tribe.net/templeofcommunity or here: http://www.bloodvessel.org/news.html

Mark your calendars for July 26th!

we'll be having a fundraiser for the project, which will coincide nicely with my 32nd birthday!

part 1: drifting into jasmine dreams

As many of you know, I landed back here stateside a little over a week ago. Finding my breathing room…finding some space to settle in…finding comfort in the familiar…it’s all a little strange. One gets so used to the discomfort of daily life as a foreigner in such foreign lands, relishes it, in fact. And now, as I find myself astounded that I remember how to get to Church and Market, know exactly where to find the hummus in Trader Joe’s, and am able to buy a damn good cup of coffee for less than $2, the comfort of home waxes and wanes in its enjoyment. I’m certainly happy to be home and I’ve had many adventures since I landed, but I can’t say my heart isn’t aching for a little bit of that Korean thrill of living. I haven’t had one single near-death cab experience in over a week. What kind of fun is that??!!

But there will be time to hash out the ins and outs of decompression and culture shock and all things related. Now is the time for some true travel tales of Thailand. It may take a handful of posts to get this whole trip sorted out for you, so stay tuned. This is only the beginning.

Bangkok to Chiang Mai
I landed in Bangkok on May 6^th. A whirlwind of a trip in Seoul followed by a soft landing and a lunch that proved to be one f the most memorable on my trip—so much so that I ended up returning for the same treats on my final day in that airport. At the Tate Café, I ate the most delicious fried green papaya salad. I had no idea you could do such a thing. It was greasy and spicy and totally not Korean food. (Don’t get me wrong here; I pine for Korean food daily. But the pure excitement of the taste of fresh basil, well, it can send a girl into orbit after a year’s absence.) I hopped my flight to Chiang Mai after finagling some luggage storage. Six hours after leaving Korea, I found myself in an air-conditioned taxi, zipping down the wrong side of the road (who KNEW?) next to the moat that borders the old city of Chiang Mai. My taxi driver was ever so gracious, getting a bit lost, stopping for directions, and finally, depositing me at the CM Blue House where I set up a home base for the next 8 days.

I walked into the loveliest of courtyard gardens, replete with waterfall fountain and twisting, winding jungle vines in every direction. The guest house was three levels. I met the lady of the house, and she took me up to my spacious second-floor room. And so there I was. Out of Korea. In Thailand. Alone for the first time in longer than I could remember in this room in a city I knew nothing about. Simultaneously, I felt intensely, almost painfully alone and completely, liberatingly free and thrilled about the next few weeks.

Before I jump in to the thrilling adventure part, I will say this: the thread of this loneliness ran in, out and around my experiences on this trip. At times, it wound itself so tightly, I felt I might not find the next breath. The letting go of everything—my students, my friends in Korea, Jim, everything about my life as I had known it for 19 months—the pain of the loss and the change came in waves of such intensity, I would quite literally find myself breathless, often crying in some random public place. I certainly had my fair share of anxious and desperate moments. And I have deep gratitude for those of you who were right there when I needed you. I know now—and I knew at the time—that this was all part of the journey, part of letting go and finding a new space for myself. Everything I felt and did and wrote was exactly what I needed to. And what I am infinitely proud of myself for is this: at each moment, when the pain set in and the tears came and I felt so very alone, I recognized the experience as a choice. I could choose to let the sadness of the loss take over, or I could choose to allow myself to feel what I was feeling, and then go out and find something to remind me that I was in THAILAND. No matter how sad I was, I never let it take over my trip. I reached out for help when I needed it, and I moved on. And then I did it all over again. But, always, I moved on.

Chiang Mai
And so, that first night in Chiang Mai, as sad as I felt, I kept myself out for as long as I could manage, walking and eating and drinking. Finding the streets I knew I didn’t need to hang out on—the ones with all the girly bars with the ladies hanging around waiting for their night to begin, and then finding the places that were definitely chill and fun. I ate the most delicious vegetarian curry and drank my first non-Korean beer at a place called the THC Rooftop Bar, where everything is made out of hemp and you sit under the cover of a bamboo roof on small little cushions at rattan tables while a mellow DJ plays a lot of dub and faux marijuana plants twinkle with Christmas lights and glowing lanterns of purple and red and orange sway in the warm breeze. There were signs everywhere saying that patrons should not use or bring drugs to the THC Rooftop Bar. Hmmm. I dunno. Seemed kinda ironic to me.

After the Rooftop Bar, I did some wandering, and found some seriously fancy and gorgeous hotels around town. Also walked by a man taking a “shower” standing up in the middle of the sidewalk wearing nothing but black briefs. He was pouring water from a bucket all over his body. Just getting clean in the middle of the road. I somehow missed the clump of small, groovy bars just one block up from my place, but I did manage to find another little bar where I could sit and write for a while. Tiny little place. All the ladies there were trannies—or “ladyboys” as they call themselves in Thailand. Super sweet people. Really chill atmosphere. A stage where a band plays regularly during the week. And as I sat there, this wild lizard went scurrying up the wall. Pale, almost translucent, the same color as the stucco wall behind me. Bad speakers played really bad 80’s soft rock remixes. I drank a beer and settled into my first night in Thailand. Walked back down to my guest house, passing by an empty lot where the cacophony of frogs and bugs and jungle critters became a familiar and soothing sound each night I returned to the place. I definitely came to love that little soi (side street in Thai) with it’s delicious cafes and stinky street market and funky little bar where rasta Thai guys played Nirvana’s “Unplugged” every night.

The night was a rough one. I stayed up too late and woke up a little bit dazed by the whole evening. But I had a big day planned—lots of walking and temple-seeing and massages and such. So off I went, stopping first at what came to be my favorite little breakfast joint, Da’s Bakery and Café. I ate the most delicious muesli, yogurt and fruit with think hilltribe mountain coffee every morning in Chiang Mai. And the juices. My god. Anywhere you wanted you could get the most incredible juices for about $1. I felt like I was splurging at Da’s spending a whole $4 on breakfast.

Off on my temple walk I went. I think I saw maybe 8 or 10 temples that first day. So many, they, of course, all blend together, unless I sit down with my photos. There was tiny Wat Lam Chang, the site of an ancient elephant watering hole, which was right behind my guest house. I casually strolled through this temple before realizing that there was a funeral going, on and the whole community was sitting down with the monks for the funeral lunch. They didn’t pay me much mind. And since I had adopted full tourist mode, I embraced the ridiculousness of wandering through someone’s funeral while on tour. The next temple was Wat Chiang Man, up the road a bit from the funeral temple. This one was far bigger. In fact, it claimed to be the oldest and biggest temple in Chiang Mai. Little did I know that nearly every temple I would go to would make the same contention. Chiang Man was pretty gorgeous—the first example of Lanna Thai architecture I had seen in person. The dragons, the gold, the vastly different temple style from what I had seen in Korea. Atop each of the temple spires along the spine of the roof, were small copper wind chimes. As the breeze blew, all you could hear throughout the grounds was the small sound of the metal bells. The sky was cloudy for most of the time I was in Chiang Mai—Cyclone Nargis has thrown some bad weather towards Thailand—so the temple walk day was sultry and breezy with such bold, blue skies set against these incredible low white and gray clouds. After Chiang Man came about four more temples whose names are escaping me now, but which were all beautiful and quirky in their own right. The ancient with the remodeled nearly everywhere.

I got some lunch at this corner place that apparently has some of the best food in the city—and the cheapest. I ate kao soy for the first time here. Super popular northern Thai dish. Like a spicy curry soup with noodles and chicken and crispy noodles on top. It’s served with limes, chiles and ginger. I fell in love instantly. Great street food. Flavors I hadn’t tasted in ages—coconut milk, curry, anise, cilantro. Definitely not in Korea anymore.

In my guide book—the infamous Lonely Planet—I read about something that I just couldn’t pass up after this long walk of temples—a spe run by former inmates at the Chiang Mai Women’s Correctional Facility. I mean, how could I pass something like this up? Seriously. I found the prison at the end of a road near the Three Kings Statue. Decorated with festive murals, the prison wasn’t nearly as foreboding as our own correctional facilities. It looked almost pleasant, like, “Hey! Here’s our prison! With flowers everywhere! Isn’t it nice? Don’t miss the shop across the street! And definitely don’t leave without a foot massage!” Hmm. The shop sold the requisite handmade doilies and toilet paper covers and aprons. A correctional officer pointed me in the direction of the spa which was back out on the main road. To the left of the shop appeared to be a visitors center. I was told that the women in this prison are short-timers. The prison’s goal is to ensure that each prisoner is trained in some kind of sustainable trade before she is released. So, massage therapy is one of the main trades the women learn. I think sewing is another.

I made it over to the spa and realized it was the same one I had been eyeing as I walked to the prison. Really beautiful and simple inside. SUPER cheap. For my first massage in Thailand, I got a 1 hour foot, leg, head, neck and shoulder massage for 150 baht (or $5). Totally decadent. The massage therapist was so sweet. She was a young woman, very beautiful, not petite in the way that so many Thai women are, a square face, a broad smile. It was perfect. And it started me on my obsession with Thai spas during my trip. I ended up spending most of my time (and money!) in spas wherever I went, though it wasn’t until Ko Samui that I really splurged.

That afternoon, I hopped into a rickshaw taxi to go check out the yoga class I had wanted to find. The studio was lovely, set back in a Thai garden. A great group of people. Super fun, playful class with this English teacher—amazing to sit in a class and hear my own language! Out for the evening, looking for food. I ended up settling for the guest house place that had a typical Thai menu—nearly 50 pages of the most random collection of Thai, American and European food. Seriously, this was the norm no matter where I went. Huge menus. I am perplexed as to how one place can possibly have so many ingredients let alone cooks who know how to make all 600 items on the menu. This place I ate was weird. Daret’s House. Recommended by lonely planet, of course. I had a perfectly decent meal, and as I was paying my bill, I looked up to read the guest house rules sign on the wall above me. Lots of typical rules—lock your valuables in the safe, we’re not responsible for stolen items, check out time is noon, etc. But then there were the special rules: “No sex work activity in the rooms (that means no prostitutes),” and “Don’t bring ladyboys back to the room (no homosexuals allowed).” “These rules are for your own safety,” it said. Truly bizarre.

I took a long walk to the bar that Jen and Michael raved about—Santiya’s Grotto. I was told to expect a hilarious Thai woman who belonged at Burning Man and a bar completely covered in paper mache. I got the paper-covered walls, but not the Thai lady. The bar was totally empty save for the young guy running the bar and playing solitaire on the computer. Already in a lonely state of mind, the patron-less bar did me little good. I sat with my Lonely Planet—lonely indeed!—and planned my next day. I knew this crappy lonely feeling was good for me—that I would get over it soon—but man, was it crappy. The place was really fantastic, though. Very Gaudi-esque. Gorgeous portraits sat on easels against the walls, books and random things lined the shelves. There was a small stage with a drum set painted red with spray paint. Windows and mirrors framed by paper mache. A lion mask stared at me from one side of the room, a rams head from the other. Wilting orchids sat on my table. Honeycombs were stuck into the walls. A total cave—exactly as the name suggests. I drank a couple of beers, took in the scene, shot some pictures and after about an hour, was still the only one in the room. So, it was time to go home.

After my first two days in Chiang Mai, I found that the daytime was awesome—so much to do and see and occupy my brain. Night was much harder. Going out to eat and finding places to hang out on my own just led to a load of loneliness. Like I said, it came in waves. And I don't regret a second of it. The adventures just kept coming... Look out for Part 2 soon!

the (really) last day

this is me writing to you from the floor of my friend Annie's apartment in Seoul on my official last night in Korea. you can't imagine the range of emotions in this emotional girl at the moment. the past three days have been, as per usual, a whirlwind of insanity and beauty in this fabulous city of Seoul. i don't have much time for details at the moment--much more will be written in the coming weeks and months about all that has transpired this year, this month and this week, but for now, i'll give you the highlights of the Last Great Weekend in Korea:

• Showing up in Insadong on the eve of the Lotus Lantern Festival and being quite surprised to find out it was being held this weekend not next weekend and not having a hotel reservation to speak of.
  
• Being helped by a very lovely Korean man who walked us to the only place that had a room in the area -- a love motel, of course -- where we drank blue juice, ate ice cream and relaxed in their "romantic coffee" shop.
  
• Returning to our original hotel and being "gifted" the last room in the house (though we still had to pay) and later realizing that it was probably not rentable at all due to the extreme wood eating mold in the bathroom and the broken chair.
  
• Eating a delicious real Italian meal of steamed mussels, crab lasagna, salmon linguine and foccacia while relaxing on the patio of a very lovely restaurant in Insadong.
  
• Finding out that the jacuzzi tub actually has to be full before you turn on the jets or everything gets really really wet.
  
• Saying goodbye to Jim as I got into a cab to head to my friend Annie's house and he got onto a bus to go to the airport to go to the states.
  
• Wandering the streets of Insadong and discovering the most gorgeous temple with the most incredible lanterns covering the space in a thick canopy.
  
• Finding Korean b-boys rockin' it on stage at the street fair.
• Buying an awesome glowy lotus lantern.
  
• Witnessing the most insanely Korean parade ever -- thousands of people walking the streets of downtown Seoul with gorgeous lanterns and lantern floats of Buddha, elephants, pagodas and dragons -- as it changed course no fewer than three times in 45 minutes. We had a perfec (seriously perfect) spot which we had to run to and fro from as the parade changed course. Ridiculous.
• Walking around Insadong in the rain with good friends and eating grilled Korean chicken one last time.
  
• Waking up this morning and heading to Hongdae for a fabulous meal of artichoke and sun dried tomato sandwiches, finding a funny cafe that actually looks like a cathedral in Prague, and discovering a troupe of Korean swing dancers in the park.
  
• Eating Indian food and spending my last night in Korea reading in an awesome underground cafe that we had been searching for all day.
  

enjoy the pics. there will be more soon. for now, anyeonghasaeyo from Korea. stay tuned for tales from thailand.

the last day

Today was it. My last day. Been saying goodbye to so many people over the past week. But today, I find myself in a state of the following: amazement at having finished an entire year in Korea (we celebrated one year on May 1^st!); relief for finally being able to step away from my classes (despite how much I love my kids, this was an exhausting job); total excitement for the coming months (Thailand, SF, Tucson, burning man); and, yes, sadness for having to leave it all behind. But like I said in my last post, I’m so grateful to have had the chance to really connect with people and to feel so very loved by everyone here (I have been begged and pleaded with to stay on at our school by everyone from the bus drivers to the bosses, to the Korean teachers to some of the foreigners). On Saturday at our big going away party, a dear friend of mine, Young Jeong, who is a fabulous Korean artist, gave me a piece of her art that I feel in love with the first time I visited her studio. It was just before her big show, and so I inquired about the price. It was far out of my range, though. On Saturday night, she and her boyfriend show up and she pulls out this very well-protected package with her gallery flyer on the front and a small little picture of the art in the corner. Of course, I cried. In that moment, I knew everything I needed to know about my life in Korea – it will forever be part of my heart and the people I have known here, well, most of them will be part of my life for a long time to come.

On a side note, since I don’t have time to blog about the party, just wanted some folks to know (Katie & Jake, particularly) that I just happen to meet Zaid, the manager of Ron’s bars for 9 years (Tonic and Blur), who, when I said, ohmygod, not only do you live 4 blocks from me in SF, but you also worked for my two of my dear friend’s friend…his reply: your friend wouldn’t happen to be a prenatal yoga instructor, would she? Also named Katie? Ohmygod, yes. He completely 100% randomly happened to be invited to our party, and we connected that night. What a small, small, beautiful world we live in. just had to share. Here’s a pic of us! (take note that one week ago today, it was like 50 degrees F here, and now, it is seriously 88 degrees outside).

Also, also, we spent one last afternoon with Swan and her mom, where she, of course, took us to a wonderland of beauty. But again, since I don’t have time to blog about it, I had to share this awesome drawing that Swan did of Jim and I. She was hiding behind her mom’s camera, saying she was drawing something secret. We discovered from the image on the camera she was drawing a portrait of us. Well, what to our wondering eyes should appear but this completely amazing picture – me and jim as stick figure puppets. You wish you knew this kid. You really do.

xoxo

catie

Bummin’ around Gyeongju

Last weekend, Jim and I took an awesome weekend trip to a gorgeous, fabulous ancient town in Korea called Gyeongju. I tell you, I have never seen anything quite as beautiful as spring in Korea. I am in LOVE with all the flowers and trees. The vibrant shades of purple and green and red and pink are some of the most vivid I’ve ever seen. The hillsides and streets are thick with blossoms. Everywhere we go, there are huge swaths of color sweeping across the road. It’s awesome.

So, we decided to make the 4 hour trek to this town north of Busan. It was the ancient Silla dynasty capital. The Silla dynasty was Buddhist, so much of their legacy is steeped in that culture. The town is flanked by two very large national parks, both of which are dotted with tomb sites of the ancient royal family, Buddhist temples and other Silla relics. The center of town is very small. There aren’t many multi-story buildings, and there are NO apartment complexes. This was so bizarre, and so refreshing! To be somewhere without groves of 20 story apartments in Korea. Wow. There’s a downtown area much like Gwangju, but at night, as we discovered, it’s pretty dead. Not a lot of people out and about it seemed. We landed on a rather drizzly, gray day. The sky had been threatening to open up at any minute, but as of our arrival, it was only sprinkling.

We were starving, so we found an udon place nearby and ordered up. Of course, I thought I’d be adventurous and order the ramen bibimbap, but not so much. It wasn’t the warm treat I was hoping for. It was cold. So, not nearly as delicious as Jim’s udon. But no matter. Behind me on the television was Korean TV, the ever fascinating, never logical experience of entertainment. On this particular day, it was some show called “X-boyfriend.” And as far as we could tell, there seemed to be a panel of contestants (all women) of some sort and a panel of judges. One of the judges was the Korean singer who Miho had tattooed and done a photo shoot with in her tattoo parlor. (I have no idea what her name is.) The show seemed to follow around the ex in question and detail his antics on camera, and then there was lots of crying and lots of talking, presumably advice-giving and such. Then at some point, we see the ex cyring in the boys bathroom. Really. And then a short time later, back on the show, the girl, complete with a red, tear-stained face, goes inside this box on stage. I was guessing that if her ex was in the small box, then he wants her back. If not, then we would see a display of emotion not seen since Gwyneth’s blubbering Oscar speech. Lucky for us, the ex was there. Very moving. So totally. The inside of the box was ridiculous – like a small little lounge, trippy wallpaper on the floor, ceiling and walls, little stools for the ex-couple to sit on. So, the guy starts tearing up again, and the girl just hides her face in her hands. And then we had to leave because we had almost forgotten that we were in the ancient Shilla dynasty capital and had a variety of ancient places to be. Riight. So, as I sat down to write this, I had to look on the interwebs to see what I could find out about it. And here it is…it’s subtitled in good English so it’s not as fun as if it were just in Korean, but enjoy it nonetheless…I think if you live in NYC you can catch it on this station – IATV.

http://www.iatv.tv/variety/11155/

Anyhoo, back to things that are ancient. We jumped on a bus to head to Bulguksa, some say the most famous temple in Korea. On the bus ride, we got a pretty good tour of the entire city, including the bizarre resort area that’s been built up around a lake in the northwest corner of the town. Dozens of major hotels, an amusement park, a soon-to-be-completed water park and any number of other manufactured experiences lined the shores of the lake. Though this was all pretty much an eye sore, the streets we drove on as we toured the area were lined up and down with cherry trees in full bloom. The day was a bit gray, but the blossoms were a gorgeous shade of pink and red and they stretched as far as I could see in any direction. At one point, we were stuck in traffic, and we were on a street with trees on either side and down the middle, all very tall and stretching over us, creating a little tunnel of pink blossom perfectness.

We finally made it to the temple. It was Saturday, so the place was buzzing with action. We landed in the parking lot below the temple and made our way into what looked like a park above us. When we got closer, I was, again, stopped by the realization that we were about to walk into a place that was covered in cherry blossoms. We walked up a stairway and entered into a swirling, whirling space filled with cherry blossom trees. Blossoms were floating on the air in the wind, drifting languidly like snowflakes to the ground below. Families, lovers, kids, old folks, everyone taking photos, stopping to shake a branch or two to send a flurry of blossoms into the air. I stood in the middle of the walkway with my arms up in the air, a giant smile on my face. As soon as I felt the melt of winter begin, I was determined to find a place just like this. A place where I could run through the blossoms falling at my feet. Springtime here is really unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I mean, Boston was beautiful, definitely. But this is surreal. The burst of color and life is astounding to me.

Jim managed to pull me out of the cherry blossom grove and up the path to the temple. The path was lined with all sorts of hawkers, and we bought two tiny little plastic Buddha statues. We entered the temple site, and wandered up the long, winding walkway towards the main structure. Gorgeous lampposts lined the walkway. The place was like a secret forest. The temple building itself is pretty grand. There are two large staircases leading up to the entrance, both of which are off limits for use. Visitors have to walk around to the back entrance. As I walked towards the back, a flash of green caught my eye. I saw rows of green lanterns hanging from a small building enclosed by a wall behind the temple. I got on my tiptoes to get some shots of them. Jim found me and we made our way into the central part of the temple where an ancient pagoda and a few other relics stand. There is a small space of worship in the middle of the space where we were constantly scolded for taking pictures. This in a sea of some of the most advanced, elaborate cameras. There were dozens of people with serious camera gear. This is the way in Korea – no camera is too big.

We made our way out of the temple and decided we wanted to try our luck at getting up to Seokguram Grotto, an ancient hermitage that is part of Bulguksa. We were in a bit of a time crunch. The hike up the mountain to the grotto really winded me, which was totally frustrating. My time in Korea hasn’t allowed for a lot of exercise, so I’m totally out of shape. We made it up to the grotto with about 30 minutes to explore before we had to hop on the last bus back to the bottom of the mountain. So, speed walking our way to the Buddha, we made it with about 15 minutes of exploring time. At the site, there is an artificial grotto built into the side of the mountain. Inside the grotto is a statue of Buddha surrounded by fifteen panels of bodhisattvas, arhats and ancient Indian gods. It’s encased in glass these days, and photos aren’t permitted, of course, so we snuck a couple in. We barreled back to the parking lot to hop on the bus. Ended up back downtown and started looking for a place to stay.

We stumbled into a great Buddhist store and then just started wandering around the neighborhood. We turned up a side street and suddenly, and as we were walking, I caught sight of something pink down a small alleyway. Of course, I had to search out what it was, so I dragged Jim with me down this little dark street. It was early, maybe 7:30 pm, so the street was pretty empty, but what we found was exactly what I thought it was. A street of glass windows with little cushioned stools where the ladies who were prepping themselves for the evening at dressing tables would soon sit waiting for customers. I’m still not exactly sure how this whole set up works, but it’s the same in every town – Gwangju, Seoul, Gyeongju. Streets lined with glass windows, all illuminated with soft pink light. Ladies getting ready for the evening. Chairs in the windows. One could certainly make a safe guess as to how this all works, but what I mean is that I’m not sure how this all works within the space of Korea. It’s something that fascinates me – the obvious, pervasive presence of a booming sex industry within a culture that basically pretends it doesn’t exist and simply never talks about it. I think I have to get back to the states to really explore this whole issue – to get a sense of what goes on and what people think of it, what the true situation is. I haven’t really found anyone who will talk about it here. At any rate, it still fascinates me, especially the early hours which is the only time we’ve ever encountered the places. The time when the ladies are primping and preening, when the ajummas are cleaning up the rooms, when the women are gathered in front of a TV intently watching some such thing, killing time before the customers show up. It was such an incongruous surprise to find it in Gyeongju after visiting ancient Buddhist temples…

We finally found a pretty decent place to stay for $30. Nothing remarkable about the place except for the very large, very empty fish tanks on the first floor landing. Rocks, stones and plants. No water, no fish.

Went out to find ourselves something to eat. I almost got hit by a scooter which we later discovered to be the “parking attendant.” Seems that everyone who parks on the streets downtown must pay a fee. So, a little ticket is left on your windshield, and as soon as you start your engine, this woman on a scooter comes speeding up to your window, ready to collect the fee. I’m not sure how this actually works. There didn’t seem to be any more than one person. But man, was she fast. We found a little grill place and ordered some random stuff from the menu. Thought we were ordering grilled chicken on a stick, and, in a certain way, we did. But turns out it was chicken feet. Spicy, grilled chicken feet. Yes, no thank you. Played gin all night and got up the next morning to explore a bit more before we headed back to Gwangju.

Jim needed sunglasses, so we went hunting. Thought we’d try our luck at the Gyeongju market. And wow. I’m so glad we did. Didn’t manage to find sunglasses there, but we did find a whole array of products and experiences that we simply don’t have in Gwangju. We turned the corner of the particular walkway we were on, and we stumbled into row after row of these incredible rice treats. In Korea, on special milestone occasions like grandparents birthdays, first birthdays, weddings, funerals, etc., special rice treats are brought as gifts. They’re called deok, I believe. And apparently, they dome in all sorts of shapes and colors. I had only seen the towers of candy-like treats – red, green, blue, pink. But what we encountered in Gyeongju was far more elaborate and interesting. Giant octopi surrounded by big prawns. Lots of whole fish. Tons of fruits and vegetables. Almost like what people do with marzipan. It was hard to tell whether the seafood was real or just rice-based and shellacked for that glossy finish. Every time we moved our heads, there was something else astounding to see. As we got to the end of the rice treat section, we found ourselves in street food heaven. Steaming pots, spicy smells, familiar sights. We meandered a bit and then turned left up another walkway. This one was a bit dark, but as we looked ahead to where we were going, another dumfounding sight stood before us. In the stall directly ahead, dozens of red-purple octopi hung from hooks, tentacles and all, fresh and ready for eatin’. (Gyeongju is only about 30 km from the coast, so the seafood is thick in the town.) As we got closer, I noticed that two of the three proprietors of the stand were napping, as most Koreans do in the market, especially when there’s slow business. They were dressed in red shirts, nearly matching the creatures that hung in front of them. Bowls of sea urchins and sea slugs sat on the wooden table below the hanging octopi. A woman and her family were purchasing a variety of things to our left. I watched a little girl with balloons stop and stare for a minute and then go back to playing with her dad while mom waited for lunch to be wrapped up.

As we turned to walk towards the street, we walked right into yet another jaw-dropping, whaaa? There was a butcher shop about two stands down from the octopi. And on the ground, in front of the meat case, was a red plastic bowl with two very large pig heads sitting inside in a pool of water. A green hose lay next to the bowl, indicating a fresh bathing may have just occurred. Right. Just some pig heads lying around. We took another turn instead of heading out. I just had to see what else I could find there. But, it was getting late, and we had a plan to get to another place or two before the end of the day. So, a very left turns later and we were back on the street.

Two pairs of sunglasses and some various Korean sundries later, we were on our way to Seochulji Pong. We took a taxi not really knowing how long the bus might be. We stopped at the pond and found ourselves in a funny little neighborhood. Everything ancient – most of the homes and buildings in Gyeongju are traditional architecture. There seemed to be about a half-dozen temples surrounding the pond. We met a nice Korean man who tried to explain the story of the pond to us as well as the story behind the broken stone face we kept seeing all over the place. Then, we discovered this totally beautiful, very small, temple down the road. I think this was my favorite part of the trip, aside from frolicking in various field of spring blossoms. The temple had a garden in which there was a gong, a bell, a pagoda, a small fountain and a Buddha. There were camellias and these gorgeous deep purple blossoms that may be related to magnolias, I’m not sure. The camellias were pink and white and red. I was in heaven. It was just so serene and so beautiful to be in the space. We walked towards the back, to the Buddha, and found the little fountain. Some movement caught my eye, and I realized that there were tiny little green frogs with bright orange bellies swimming in the water. We found about three of them. They were too cool. I loved these little frogs. We watched them for a while and got back to the Buddha. The temple abutted a pine forest, so the Buddha stood against a background of a clear blue sky and a forest of dense pines. In the time that we had been there, some people had gathered inside the temple with one of the monks to pray. The chanting began and the voices drifted over the space. We quietly walked towards the temple and stood outside for a few minutes allowing the reverberations of that sound to wash over us. I felt so privileged, so blessed to experience something like this.

On the other side of the pond was a palace of sorts. Before we walked in, we read the description of the place – a palace built by former President Park to commemorate the three individuals who helped to unify Korea. Seeing as he was a ruthless dictator, we weren’t expecting too much with the palace. And, in fact, there wasn’t much to see. It was totally antiseptic and contrived. The grounds were pretty, but boring. The entire building was painted tan. TAN! What? In a culture of such color and vibrancy, you build a TAN palace. Ew. Boring. The best thing I got out of it was a rubbing of a tile on the ground. They had the most beautiful lotus flowers on them. I couldn’t resist another inspiration for a new tattoo!

We quickly moved on, caught a bus back to town and ended up in a field of yellow flowers. Had to take some shots with yet another set of cartoon guardians of the field. And of course, a series of fabulous shots of me in the field wearing my ridiculous new sunglasses and holding one of the three parasols I bought that day for $2. We wandered around this incredible field and found the first observatory in Asia. We climbed a hill thinking we’d find a pond, but instead found an ancient freezer! A place they used to keep ice underground. Jim was ecstatic about it. I was not really too impressed. I wanted to find the damn pond I had set out to see! We finally realized that the pond was actually on the other side of the street as we made our way back to the other side of the park. Our bus to Gwangju was leaving in about 45 minutes, so again, we decided to speed walk the place and jump in a cab to the bus station.

The pond was very simple, but very beautiful. The site was excavated many years ago. A Shilla palace was discovered, but most of the building remains were covered up again with earth. Not really sure why. There are now two pavilion buildings on the edge of the pond, one with a scaled wooden replica of the palace that once stood on the grounds. We were crunched for time, so I ran in to use the bathroom. When I returned, about 3 minutes later, Jim called me over to see what he had just shot on his camera. Apparently, while I was in the bathroom, three men dressed as Shilla warriors had ridden in through the front gates on horseback and rode across the site and out the other side. Right! 3 minutes and I miss this.

Into a cab we went. Made it to the bus station with 10 minutes to spare. But of course, the only bus of the day was sold out. So, we bought tickets for another bus to another town to make a connection to Gwangju. We had an hour to kill so we went in search of food behind the bus station. Always a good idea! It was a pretty run-down deserted neighborhood, but we managed to find a little joint open for food. Two cyclists were inside enjoying some soju and samgipsol, so we sat down and ordered some as well. I’m not the biggest fan of it (we call it Korean bacon), as it’s usually super fatty, but this was delicious and lean. While we were eating, the nice restaurant lady picked up her keys and put on her jacket, jumped on her scooter and sped away. Hmm. Ok. The cyclist guys seemed to know that it was all good, she’d be back soon, they said. So, we shrugged, finished our beers and delicious food and had to run to catch the bus. We left some cash on the table – there was lots of confusion over just how much we had to leave. Made it to our bus. An hour later, we were in Daegu. When we tried to buy tickets to Gwangju, we were told the next bus didn’t leave until 7:50 pm – almost 2 hours later. Argh. The next 3 buses were sold out. So, resigned to stay in Daegu for a bit, we wandered out to find something to do. Found a café across the street that was actually called Sleepless in Seattle…had some coffee and tea and played more games of gin. Finally made it on a bus to Gwangju. Stopped at a rest stop for a bathroom break. Now, on every bus I’ve ever traveled on in Korea, we get 15 minutes at the rest stop. But apparently, our bus driver was a little antsy, so instead of 15 minutes, we got about 6. But we didn’t know this. So, after I bought a drink and decided to head back to the bus while Jim got a snack, I opened the door to the parking lot to see our bus driver driving away without us. I started yelling for Jim and waving my hands frantically while running straight at the bus. He stopped, thankfully. It’s unclear whether he really would have left us or if he was just trying to get our attention, but he definitely asked the passengers if anyone else was missing before we headed off again. I don’t really know. But it would have seriously sucked to be stranded in that bus station with no money, no phone and no bag, as I had left everything on the bus. Jim was pissed, and when we finally got back to Gwangju, he went right up to the driver and demanded his name. I said in the little Korean I know, why 5 minutes? 15 minutes, always! “You didn’t understand!” he said. Probably true, but still, with foreigners on the bus, one cannot assume we understand, non? There was a series of hand gestures and cross remarks made, and we finally got out of the station and in a cab home. Finally. It was an incredible weekend, and I’m so very glad to have gotten the chance to get there. Jim and I had a great time together. Definitely my most favorite place in Korea, hands down. We only saw a small fraction of what there is to see there. Another time. Another time.

Last weekend – dinner and drinks with lots of Korea friends, and a trip to a butterfly festival with our favorite 7 year-old! Tomorrow night – our first of two going away parties! Stay tuned for that soon!

One week left…so very, very strange.