Fly by Knight

  As for the unexpected, it consisted of where we stayed and who we were with, which, though we never would've realized it, were one in the same.

  Another thing we were blind to up until the point we stepped foot inside was our accommodations. It was our first time using a hostel, which was quite a bit different from a hotel, despite the simple change in spelling. The negatives were immediately apparent, as the first thing we wanted to do was shower after our extended day of travel (12 hours of traveling to cover three hours of flight). As hostels would have it, it wasn't our room in which we got to do this, but in a group sleeping area, where upon entering it felt like trespassing into the lion's den, trying not to disturb the sleeping, and possibly ornery, inhabitants, complete with concerns over which of the four light switches to flip (I chose incorrectly twice) as well as which shower hose to use (there was one in the toilet area and one next to the sink).

  Beyond that, our tile-floored room was exceedingly cold, with only a meager hot water heater to keep it warm, which we could not control. In older days, you get the feeling the less intelligent might have prayed to it for its mysterious production of warmth (only after a handful of burns).

  The positives, however long it took them to appear, far outweighed these small negatives. As we wandered back in after our day at the Great Wall, slightly confused and heavily weary, we walked in upon a feast of none other than the authentic Chinese food we had been looking to eat throughout the day. From tofu to duck to fish to eggplant, our hosts who ran the hostel had ordered food for the guests who were present at the time,  which up until that point did not include us. It was at this point we realized what the "community" room was for (besides the warmth we didn't get in our rooms). Though the guests went off on their own like arms completing separate tasks and legs making separate journeys, they eventually came back to this center through the gravitational pull of comfort.

Ana, Karey, Christophe and Yirka

  So it was with these people that we got to eat dinner, and simultaneously got to know. And so we met Christophe and Yirka, a couple from Belgium on a year-long paid vacation, and Karey, an English teacher in China, and his girlfriend Ana who had come to visit, both of whom came from Florida.

"Hello, you want postcard? Magnet?"

  As for the expected, we knew the place we had to go while in China was the Great Wall.

  So on our first morning in the land of so-called communism, we woke early, knowing we had to inject ourselves with energy in the form of our Hostel's breakfast (more on that later), as it would soon be stripped from us by the blistering cold like mother nature by the Chinese, quick and in its entirety. We navigated the city with the ease of experienced travelers, with the only minor snafu coming in the scowling form of a female bus worker who didn't understand Chinese (as I spoke it). It was nothing which could diminish our determination to see the Wall, though.

  Our point of entry, which goes by the name Badaling, is one of the most well-taken care of parts of the wall. While it have would felt more authentic to look upon crumbling bricks that now resemble only frames of their former selves, fragile enough to scatter when pressed upon by the strongest winds as if choosing to give way to the inevitability of time, being able to walk upon the wall as soldiers did for hundreds of years was pleasing in another sense. Despite the fact that same sense was continuously bombarded by the mountain winds, determined to turn our blood to ice, our awe outlived the brevity of the mere hour we could spend hiking before having to travel back down before we ourselves crumbled in our frames of gloves, hats and scarves.

  As this section of the wall wound up, over and between mountains that better resembled gigantic piles of boulders than jutting spires of rock, the hike proved to be challenging. In our hour, which seemed closer to two given the frigid conditions, we managed to scale our fair share of the wall, brushing off a pair of persistent adversaries in the cold and souvenir sellers. It would have been the latter, with their excellent abilities to force conversations using their three-word vocabularies (hello-magnet-postcard), who'd have forced us off the wall in warmer weather.

*As always, more photos can be viewed on Photobucket

Maoney

Chinese New Year

  With our first four-day vacation in the entire span of our time in Korea (outside of our measly five vacation days), we chose to go to China, making what we thought would be a cliche trip to one of the world's most populated countries. Upon leaving, of course we knew not what to expect, having heard etchings in both positive and negative light as to what would be contained inside those tight borders.

  We left unsure of our timing, hearing the travel would be horrendous, as hordes of people made a mass exodus from Korea in the name of the Chinese New Year, the Asian equivalent of January 1, but of course, as with everything in comparison to American tradition, more extravagant, time consuming and, for lack of a better word, holy.

  But much to our surprise, the travel which we expected to be a cyclone turned out to be a breeze, while our time, which we thought would expire much more rapidly as we scampered from one household monument to the next, turned out to be anything but cliche. Despite the narrow two days we had to absorb the essence of China (and the Chinese), both the expected and the unexpected took place, making one post not nearly enough to sufficiently describe the happenings of our trip.

  Three times today, Koreans have been shocked upon seeing me.
  One ran up and said "Hi" and ran away. Two of them actually yelled in English. One yelled "Oh my God!" The other one actually ran away and called "Mama!"
  And I think it was one of my students.

-Dave

Tiebreaker

  It was a beautiful Sunday morning.
  No it wasn't.
  It was cold as hell, and I hadn't gotten a chance to get more than three hours of sleep before waking up at 5:50 a.m.
  To catch a cab at six. To get to the bar (don't judge) at 6:30. To catch a ride to be at the baseball field (hope you didn't judge) by eight at the absolute latest. And by baseball I mean some sort of free-flowing derivation where some of the important rules are retracted and other, less sensical ones, are added in.
And by field I mean a patch of dirt and rocks that would be in the running for the Korean Salt Flats.
  The elk were awake as early as elk are, and had already begun a high-pitched squealing noise that would haunt us for most of the game. Why elk? Who knows.
  Long story short, we began our second round tournament game at 8 p.m. with a one-hour-and-forty-minute timeline. Quite a game it was. For five solid innings, our teams kept it to a measly four runs apiece (that's not a lot for the Korean Adult Leagues). Then came the call: Time was up. This was the last inning.
  In the top half of the inning, we missed our chance to break the tie. But in the bottom part, two things were playing on our solid, yet unawakened nerves.
  The first was we couldn't let anyone score.
  The second? We had no idea what was going to happen if this game turned into a tie.
  Why not extra innings? Maybe it's because Koreans are so damn efficient. And even though they aren't on time for most social events, they're never late to work. At least I am guessing (they are always there before me). Maybe it's because we are the foreigner (weh-gook) team, and they just don't care. Like the time they retracted the time limit (see above) because we were winning from the second inning on.
  No, not extra innings. Something different. So as we lined up at the end of the game, as we always do, we were annoyed at the fact the outcome of this game (and probably the tournament) would be settled by something other than the game itself. It was just the tip of the iceberg, and the decency of baseball was the Titanic. Glug. Glug.
  Glug.
  So as was common Korean practice (as we later found out), the carefully crafted tie which it took 100 minutes to build would be settled by none other than (one game of!) Rock-paper-scissors. Needless to say, our rock was shamelessly defeated by their paper.
  Why Rock-paper-scissors? Because Koreans are crazy about it. They do it back-to-back. They do it two-handed. They do it in eight-person groups (yes, possible).
  It's how they settle things.
  But baseball?
Oi.

The Hanwha Eagles

Ahh... Fall, the time when mother nature gives us relief from the soggy steam-bath that Koreans call summer. This wonderful season, as everyone knows, is the best time to see a baseball game, or ya-gu as its called in  Korea.
After getting on the wrong train and sitting through nauseating bumper-to-bumper traffic, we finally made it to the stadium in Daejeon. We arrived with the intention to support the team that we were newly allied with, the Hanwha Eagles, who were facing off against the Lotte Giants of Busan.

From the American perspective, cheerleaders are reserved only for the NFL and NBA, but not in Korea!! No, the Koreans love to watch girls dance to their most beloved K-pop songs.

Here, we see a good example of the enthusiasm that Koreans have for baseball. If  you could hear this picture, you would be overwhelmed with fighting songs and the thudding of cheer sticks.

And now, we have come to the best picture of all, the one of me :) As you can see, I am drinking one of Korea's special brew, Max. The other refreshments sold at the stadium were hotdogs, fried chicken and yes, fried squid. Koreans can't go anywhere without some delicious fried squid at hand.

Enough said

The "Jumbotron"

Down the right field line

Because we arrived at the game a bit late, we were forced to stand during the whole game. I think we underestimated the Eagle-Giants rivalry.
Even though we lost 7-1, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Music, games, beer and good food... Koreans know how to have a good time, wherever they may be.

~Jess