tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18150668257101878612024-03-19T06:46:04.484-04:00The Sisterhood of the Travelling TogasUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-55236030409722140342009-07-05T07:24:00.007-04:002009-07-05T08:02:31.243-04:00Happy Independence Day!<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlauFnb6x6RZek6tx7iAxl2GI6oIAqMuU4EFpTMPITczbPJELEfSJZiBxUB9K3Vq8eWNj-KQ5aGZ9CuLEvp_X_S7lEn4DDhFW6EN6P-77s1un-9jXrNSirloY_C_9zY1PSj3MGA-rJJl4/s1600-h/CIMG6281.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlauFnb6x6RZek6tx7iAxl2GI6oIAqMuU4EFpTMPITczbPJELEfSJZiBxUB9K3Vq8eWNj-KQ5aGZ9CuLEvp_X_S7lEn4DDhFW6EN6P-77s1un-9jXrNSirloY_C_9zY1PSj3MGA-rJJl4/s320/CIMG6281.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354940503503693314" border="0" /></a><br />^ Heejin and I in hanbok, traditional Korean garb<br /></div><br />Hello!<br /><br />So what I failed to realize when I re-started this blog was that summer school involves, well, just that: school in the summer. As such, the last few days have been filled with the typical summer activities combined with excruciatingly dense schoolwork, tests, and essays (and almost no time to update this blog!). Sorry sorry; I'll try and be better about updating in the future!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyN8KOzDRKadqS6KJzEAHFZ3PZbSK_65GzTG0a0KWdvYPby7uOlqclfYn_1a6dqrQAjm4mvgcV5SQBstBB4z9VlAQpU64pIjsJrUFAewtxepatEr6vdBKSUIQGrgpi21C-BTSc-aZIn8/s1600-h/CIMG6313.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyN8KOzDRKadqS6KJzEAHFZ3PZbSK_65GzTG0a0KWdvYPby7uOlqclfYn_1a6dqrQAjm4mvgcV5SQBstBB4z9VlAQpU64pIjsJrUFAewtxepatEr6vdBKSUIQGrgpi21C-BTSc-aZIn8/s320/CIMG6313.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354939537287813906" border="0" /></a><br />^ Sang "studying" for the first exam<br /><br /></div> Getting away from my cubby hole room, I've been hanging out with a lot of the Korean students, students from Korean universities such as Ewha Woman's University (not "Womens" because they stress the individual), Seoul National, and Seoul University. Whether because the majority of these students attend school while living at home (housing is only given to freshmen, and only freshmen who live a certain distance away from the University), or because the culture is simply so vastly different from America's, these students are some of the nicest and purest students I have ever met.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqhV5FG0-ufbsv_QR3XrSBFUg5st5bvxS-1PQ4mxh44h4Qw3fuZ4TXNmDXJpLN5fXQ0ComtsCJalQecB-YNeNJf0hK68q79YnfEo21PVYMkTXwbE0YLnpCg5tv_Az9Lbful5iiY0pVw4/s1600-h/CIMG6404.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqhV5FG0-ufbsv_QR3XrSBFUg5st5bvxS-1PQ4mxh44h4Qw3fuZ4TXNmDXJpLN5fXQ0ComtsCJalQecB-YNeNJf0hK68q79YnfEo21PVYMkTXwbE0YLnpCg5tv_Az9Lbful5iiY0pVw4/s320/CIMG6404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354937898051610610" border="0" /></a><br />^ Sleeping on the floor, Hangook style, 10 to a room on our archeological excursion to Iksan. Though we were pretty crammed into our room, the guys had it even worse and ended up spending the night in a sauna, of all places! Apparently this particular sauna that they found had a lounge area... that was then occupied by 13 guys for the night.<br /></div><br />From my two week observation, it seems as though Koreans in general are especially EXTREMELY good at creating a fun time. No matter what we do or where we go, there's bound to be some silly game or singing element involved!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneXexJQ5GNzCXgGFuOxyaKQ1sVbO5shzkA7cyJ7dms3xzfFxX3_wbPnkcZM_clNRp3KveJ472Z82NR1lVs_AdbRQXmjonwkVnPiQvVYuyROJqttCgvyFUS5Lbh8jp3ZgURpYQQU8-t-I/s1600-h/CIMG6390.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneXexJQ5GNzCXgGFuOxyaKQ1sVbO5shzkA7cyJ7dms3xzfFxX3_wbPnkcZM_clNRp3KveJ472Z82NR1lVs_AdbRQXmjonwkVnPiQvVYuyROJqttCgvyFUS5Lbh8jp3ZgURpYQQU8-t-I/s320/CIMG6390.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354937738597315602" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">^ Playing a version of thumb war in a restuarant in Puyo<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL20VN8CVzcyTJz5kWP20PXDSsjyvwzC0QbNX_RlUCI9RPq3yQ0Gn-xMYN4Ock_8suCoTjiJ0qRvNZ1S_8TEsmfVcPGSVLuwAd7QtGPcxffhUCI-n0exWGM6NvmOIdfXJogpOZGEGhRJc/s1600-h/CIMG6413.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL20VN8CVzcyTJz5kWP20PXDSsjyvwzC0QbNX_RlUCI9RPq3yQ0Gn-xMYN4Ock_8suCoTjiJ0qRvNZ1S_8TEsmfVcPGSVLuwAd7QtGPcxffhUCI-n0exWGM6NvmOIdfXJogpOZGEGhRJc/s320/CIMG6413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354939261189558802" border="0" /></a></div> </div> <div style="text-align: center;">^ Don't know if you can see this, but, this is Joo Yeon while karaoking (complete with a mike and sound system) on the bus ride home from Iksan!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">These kids always seem to bring a good time with them, and, I'm still shocked at how good Koreans are at singing! It seems like EVERYONE can carry a tune and belt Wonder Girls (gee gee gee gee baby baby baby).<br /><br />This past weekend, we went on our first archeological excursion that involved travelling to Iksan and viewing a lot of rocks and hills. I mean, we saw other relics as well, but, the majority were torn apart pagoders (explanation later) and grassy hill tombs for kings that may or may not actually still contain kings. Also, it was pretty disappointing to know that a lot of the things we travelled to see were actually replicas and not from 300AD.<br /><br />We still did get to see some cool stuff though:<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZU2a0nSlDf_xct-_eKKV1FWOMnfBN29VB14_Yg1XVVQZAeyCt3K5uzsS3E0kDmw3PAfQ0YQuqtlkbq7xtu4BfEXC0dw9tvDi00DRBwswdxDiqZB2liCqJ7aiLl6r5Nlx3FsDb6utsLU/s1600-h/CIMG6351.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZU2a0nSlDf_xct-_eKKV1FWOMnfBN29VB14_Yg1XVVQZAeyCt3K5uzsS3E0kDmw3PAfQ0YQuqtlkbq7xtu4BfEXC0dw9tvDi00DRBwswdxDiqZB2liCqJ7aiLl6r5Nlx3FsDb6utsLU/s320/CIMG6351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354940510652022930" border="0" /></a><br />^ Buddha's calificied remains from his cremation<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiRK454HwPxuKEOFqkNBFLIfYFjeJSP9r0CckXqVwSCtgOo-8Gxao2AAKBhu3Yfe4Nx3KsBb0If0GFVd0fwGocd2_3rW9Tg0uammp0v7k6w8e_xWs02hyphenhyphenLl3FLPjIv0YNAk42bPlPx_k/s1600-h/CIMG6375.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiRK454HwPxuKEOFqkNBFLIfYFjeJSP9r0CckXqVwSCtgOo-8Gxao2AAKBhu3Yfe4Nx3KsBb0If0GFVd0fwGocd2_3rW9Tg0uammp0v7k6w8e_xWs02hyphenhyphenLl3FLPjIv0YNAk42bPlPx_k/s320/CIMG6375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354942819850168082" border="0" /></a>^archeology dig<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-xJQY5oJjF_mXu6SYk2DNEryHP8tVSR5MzvASeqqVrCkmgJQxh2RFcqhRDbpFQDs1C6wfj1g5RVT5MjHmoAAKNpw1z0xceE9CmaX5PrIRD5mS0y8WPAF6t0Qz4G9ynFlfGsAvF4WX9Xg/s1600-h/CIMG6383.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-xJQY5oJjF_mXu6SYk2DNEryHP8tVSR5MzvASeqqVrCkmgJQxh2RFcqhRDbpFQDs1C6wfj1g5RVT5MjHmoAAKNpw1z0xceE9CmaX5PrIRD5mS0y8WPAF6t0Qz4G9ynFlfGsAvF4WX9Xg/s320/CIMG6383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354942810316301954" border="0" /></a>^ archeological find that looks like a gummy bear wearing a cowboy hat<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyVGjYl1b6U7vz7BBEM2-7hBbtD47hK-mpR2nnWlOjkVoORm4EypfdrFY1ROArRffv8loH6HGqNk5enlH0byP8hnXDLbGI-yv7TUGvHPJoJWySIwGl1Ii1IF15hX8a4WPpMKDvSAlbboo/s1600-h/CIMG6348.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyVGjYl1b6U7vz7BBEM2-7hBbtD47hK-mpR2nnWlOjkVoORm4EypfdrFY1ROArRffv8loH6HGqNk5enlH0byP8hnXDLbGI-yv7TUGvHPJoJWySIwGl1Ii1IF15hX8a4WPpMKDvSAlbboo/s320/CIMG6348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354942811013603874" border="0" /></a>^ One of many "pagoders" as our translator was prone to calling them<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">It's been a lot busier than I thought it would be, but, I'm enjoying my time here, and, managed to celebrate the 4th by going with friends to view fireworks while cruising down the Han River, and meeting up with some Harvard peeps later in the night.<br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: left;"> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0CktkHG5wYBlweUq8Fnc7z6rXTplePK9icwirEUuPtts1dHpep9Rr7oALONL0BBG7Puy5N14fYKyw3TZXZH7Ioz8ckcuJrlnNFWetJ1GnqAb02hNB4vvfTPzjfOBKsBCh2ET7CgEdBp8/s1600-h/CIMG6417.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0CktkHG5wYBlweUq8Fnc7z6rXTplePK9icwirEUuPtts1dHpep9Rr7oALONL0BBG7Puy5N14fYKyw3TZXZH7Ioz8ckcuJrlnNFWetJ1GnqAb02hNB4vvfTPzjfOBKsBCh2ET7CgEdBp8/s320/CIMG6417.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354940523194012210" border="0" /></a><br />^ fireworks behind the trump tower on the boat<br /><br /></div> Now, it's time to study for yet another exam... wish me luck!<br /><br />-Sara<br /></div> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-61669099584229634052009-06-23T05:21:00.008-04:002010-08-11T18:11:56.131-04:00Korea reduxKorea! After a year of Harvard Korean classes and a visit to Korea last summer (below), I'm back again for more, this time through summer school at Ewha University.<br /><br />The first adventure after disembarking from the 14 hour flight (we hit wind and were nearly 2 hours late) was finding the darn campus. My driver circled and circled while I groggily peered out the window and was of no help at all until we finally arrived at our destination: Ehwa's graduate school dorms.<br /><br />Our rooms are... well, let's just say that they make Dunster's accomodations look luxurious. Space wise at least.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7520D3Rdo_DhzeMC8Tb5LN8VJ9jPChcwMD0kpbm0VR5I9ZFLpzA3Aj98pK3zr8giUW7_WfSW3gd3OfZZvA6vRmFM2U3m7LtBQZXSvmItRgADTCakJ1wxfBeTiDMaassZbmLn7VOmuWD8/s1600-h/CIMG6216.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7520D3Rdo_DhzeMC8Tb5LN8VJ9jPChcwMD0kpbm0VR5I9ZFLpzA3Aj98pK3zr8giUW7_WfSW3gd3OfZZvA6vRmFM2U3m7LtBQZXSvmItRgADTCakJ1wxfBeTiDMaassZbmLn7VOmuWD8/s320/CIMG6216.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350455261852358114" border="0" /></a><br />^ But, it's clean, and has a "fun sized" balcony (my first reaction: THIS IS NOT A BALCONY, THIS IS A LEDGE WHERE PEOPLE CAN COMMIT SUICIDE!!). I'm sure I'll get used to it :)<br /><br />For my first day, I've been surprisingly productive, getting internet up and running... wait, that's all I've done. No, that's not true, I guess I took three naps and re-read Twilight when I couldn't get the internet to work (it's the only book I brought for the flight--don't ask). And, I went to the bookstore (also called the COOP) and bought The Alchemist which I've heard good things about.<br /><br />I'm pretty excited to get settled in, start my internship at KISTEP (an international science and technology think tank (I'll be working in the Policy and Planning division)), and begin classes with my Korean classmates!<br /><br />I'm off to take another nap; till later,<br />SaraUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-80501304552540611282008-08-20T09:03:00.010-04:002009-06-23T05:11:27.658-04:00ike a combination of New Zealand, Greece, and other places I haven't beenAhh. Last week we went to visit 2 islands that turned out to be just gorgeous. One of them, Hongdo, I actually consider to be The Prettiest place I have ever visited. It was like an amalgam of all the pictures of places I desperately wanted to visit at some time: the rolling green hills seemed like something you could only see in New Zealand, while the little houses set on the hill looked like something straight out of Greece (at least, from the pictures I've seen)... the aqua water (surprisingly clear!) reminded me of some place in South America, and the jungle like forest looked like something straight out of my book on orangutans in Borneo.<br /><br />This time, when I talk about "We," I mean my dad's best friend's family (the mom, dad, and two daughters aged 23 and 26). We grew up together sharing Christmases and holidays which were all recorded on home videos which we watched endlessly while I visited them. Their family ended up moving back to Korea, and, it's interesting to see how the girls I used to play with grew up so different from me, leading the life I could have lead if my parents had moved back to Korea too. I have to say, it's been so much fun hanging out with them/girls/young people again. We may have gone on extremely different paths, but, we picked up right where we left off.<br /><br />On the day we left, we took a KTX train from Seoul to Mokpo, a city on the southern most tip of Korea, where we boarded a ferry for a 2.5 hour ride to Hongdo (Korean for "Red Island").<br />Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Almost uninhabited by people due to the designation of the majority of the island as a nature reserve, the island combined the things I love most.<br />After Hongdo, it was off to Hooksando (black mountain island), another island (10x larger, and with a whopping population of 4,000 people).<br /><br />We chose to leave right in the middle of Olympic fever time, when all the events Koreans are good at were playing on tv. As a result, no matter where we went, Koreamania took over and people were crying, yelling, and hugging on the ferry and in restuarants. God love nationalism, even if it's not exactly my nation! If you know what event is happening at what time, you can literally tell the result by listening for the cheers or moans of agony that penetrate through the apartment walls or permeate from the streets below. Loves it!<br /><br /><br />Pictures:<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPF_f2tlGEy58y7kqy8wcS4PAaa4Ms-ENP9ulk8EBV2-Wl7d0YMiS3DqNwiZ9nFnQ36lGCkheae9GQC8SJKdVO3NEgG58CV1oYtj5tbm4AXI17En9YAFqDVTeYxf66AhTnYsQ5QofjmHg/s1600-h/%25ED%2599%258D%25EB%258F%2584%25EC%2597%25AC%25ED%2596%2589+027.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236596771264594594" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPF_f2tlGEy58y7kqy8wcS4PAaa4Ms-ENP9ulk8EBV2-Wl7d0YMiS3DqNwiZ9nFnQ36lGCkheae9GQC8SJKdVO3NEgG58CV1oYtj5tbm4AXI17En9YAFqDVTeYxf66AhTnYsQ5QofjmHg/s320/%25ED%2599%258D%25EB%258F%2584%25EC%2597%25AC%25ED%2596%2589+027.JPG" border="0" /></a> The general reigning over his land at Mokpo.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594039446910802" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAFtX-8juQjVNG-TBkHjtw3-OCcqW2CO62EyGJyuWy3wJvajxV-saXD3tpUTOt6MZ8DCXWsS27sXxPLtyLSv1V_XRR7HjHvo0W_M5Z-gNoNe5gkzkFlbT6KbNiOwpDMSSqV24hQtFfuI/s320/CIMG3817.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Mokpo: the rock that was covered with white powder to give the appearance of a large pile of rice to intimidate the Japanese that were going to invade on ships. The Japanese were intimidated by the "cornucopia", and instead of attacking, fled for home.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236596785729756898" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV49UezIfRKr2iIP_q6usPQkneHDyV40AKEbJt5wO5WCi6cRSwmK1svSRKbGpSnLsVrxDF1vTEtiDF1GvK_ZXumr5Quo64e5s6SyA98oPr0g-hRpLAliVNOWTd4hNILUqDL3j4U2zLXuE/s320/CIMG3885.JPG" border="0" /><br />On the ferry riding to Hongdo! I heard once that Korea is the only place in the world with overlapping mountains and weather that makes for these types of black and grey scenes... probably not true (Japan for one), but, so pretty nonetheless. The sticks are the borders of fish farms.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594050461196322" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-pPFObh-9Mh2Xu5NLKrYdvqky1V46a1D-tlPyYqn6BJ_ijl2E_zxIWpy_5_UHHvp8CMuyzhga0Pq34eBsq8XjS70Phun_lCcZLQguSbZdUzY1fjZ8aFH63IlWHq9LOc7PCdLnOFXm7w/s320/CIMG3925.JPG" border="0" />Arrival at Hongdo!<br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9fMEmU0wEVQBLZqXMacOHg-5z0ThqSOTmZ25gYvu6m5vEnU1fRoaDRBypbRbt3dwQtwSxB-IvQ7Jhhj70CRcD9fZ9so8YxXnNVMnhecJ1YicLTcAEEVA7G37VhbWxcmIzWoChb-5FHY/s1600-h/%25ED%2599%258D%25EB%258F%2584%25EC%2597%25AC%25ED%2596%2589+097.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236596769334784562" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9fMEmU0wEVQBLZqXMacOHg-5z0ThqSOTmZ25gYvu6m5vEnU1fRoaDRBypbRbt3dwQtwSxB-IvQ7Jhhj70CRcD9fZ9so8YxXnNVMnhecJ1YicLTcAEEVA7G37VhbWxcmIzWoChb-5FHY/s320/%25ED%2599%258D%25EB%258F%2584%25EC%2597%25AC%25ED%2596%2589+097.JPG" border="0" /></a>Hongdo: I look like a tool, but, this is the only pic I have of Hongdo's forests. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594058803138898" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYPErJ-rO5OK-NN66_9KKTplSvfN_cCsGMXCRABOqh7bWupDWvfAqzedBC0w6ZaG7dAtUue7braczU6uFzMrP-MoQEGRkGzjBGGGFslxwNtS4XvILdTJoV9sISWeiUBsjkWa3vw09llt4/s320/CIMG3959.JPG" border="0" /><br />One of Hongdo's green green hills (the only one you can walk up)</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236600653195329650" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WiHbZYwqsgHH_383iGb3ZUDRoZH0gAv-sScjPBLq2hh3oxNizlGgAv2xyPcZNygJWiX_Z77IU118ir5CLCMRp84sQtdmkJzXqcnXfbM5BgDJ2bCgGijpOA9X5qg8efYUrz1dVU-YbJ8/s320/CIMG3987.JPG" border="0" />A closer look at the stairs leading up the hill. I just realized that the colors seem to be off on my camera... either that or the light was really different at different times of day<br /><p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlTTRe3gWoEzxo6V6nEgdGaoF-YH_BBQnYhmC7Z22mVh-uHgBcV-oj2EdDJRGH0rjuyTqwz4jQdXzWX7Fohd_5kbabFftzQqq_yZG4eyv7RtyoGx9qrUpCbEW9W1R0AjpZm5jhqhTMfw/s1600-h/%25ED%2599%258D%25EB%258F%2584%25EC%2597%25AC%25ED%2596%2589+179.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236596774322010722" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlTTRe3gWoEzxo6V6nEgdGaoF-YH_BBQnYhmC7Z22mVh-uHgBcV-oj2EdDJRGH0rjuyTqwz4jQdXzWX7Fohd_5kbabFftzQqq_yZG4eyv7RtyoGx9qrUpCbEW9W1R0AjpZm5jhqhTMfw/s320/%25ED%2599%258D%25EB%258F%2584%25EC%2597%25AC%25ED%2596%2589+179.JPG" border="0" /></a> The little village of Hongdo, nestled inbetween the hills.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594065282662978" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHhGw71kKiju1jpTjy7zHWNAyD-9zqcetFA6fEIulD6VqCL_7qs8A4Wq8r5jUC3ClbIg8hxXtbBj9Vv1fZAmj63ln0Iwd8dECo96UFPdHKtlxQCw4InwTh6HWdXZbBE8LY41QH0Bpu8Q/s320/CIMG3963.JPG" border="0" />Mini praying mantis<br /></p><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTR7S1AKxDabRaOFoBlZFEqAxbkNO_YrS2liOijgGkAnRp_ZD0vHtC_dC5gp_Pixq2pzQAwZxSblkm4SoXVmnRdRl8qe7NJ0FvdhYwMmj5LsY_gtc_oKiC77dMFF3c4iTExMJktUDzQE/s1600-h/CIMG3999.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594397466117746" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTR7S1AKxDabRaOFoBlZFEqAxbkNO_YrS2liOijgGkAnRp_ZD0vHtC_dC5gp_Pixq2pzQAwZxSblkm4SoXVmnRdRl8qe7NJ0FvdhYwMmj5LsY_gtc_oKiC77dMFF3c4iTExMJktUDzQE/s320/CIMG3999.JPG" border="0" /></a>That pier is the one where I want to get married someday. Maybe. Probably?</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvkBsnBkGh1XXsjuqH7jNiFuO2yYUnnxB5gAS5f_ObpcDFVgL-OePy37-uTiXSvCs_q57APWelpgoUQrEgP79x15zqC-rV9gevqdwuoIrZ6vsUYMPpoGDvLS55esOi-rT3vLygZX5Nec/s1600-h/CIMG4024.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594409279667538" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvkBsnBkGh1XXsjuqH7jNiFuO2yYUnnxB5gAS5f_ObpcDFVgL-OePy37-uTiXSvCs_q57APWelpgoUQrEgP79x15zqC-rV9gevqdwuoIrZ6vsUYMPpoGDvLS55esOi-rT3vLygZX5Nec/s320/CIMG4024.JPG" border="0" /></a>View of the sunset from the restaurant where we had fish we saw swimming not 10 minutes before.<br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZfeYiWdFrs0Lzo2H5c9ujooW_7bkWgPtMXT0hmoS9jDLPaVI4s8v_jlsVd49W8mdgRV9hosd79_ZCfZT_AvVQcBdFOz86pmHqcZ6IdCCvpy2rY8WW7SVxMlr911Fz6FDjGjZiq3QfYCk/s1600-h/CIMG4159.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594414145541106" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZfeYiWdFrs0Lzo2H5c9ujooW_7bkWgPtMXT0hmoS9jDLPaVI4s8v_jlsVd49W8mdgRV9hosd79_ZCfZT_AvVQcBdFOz86pmHqcZ6IdCCvpy2rY8WW7SVxMlr911Fz6FDjGjZiq3QfYCk/s320/CIMG4159.JPG" border="0" /></a>Then it started raining, but, nothing could dampen our spirits (or our backpacks) on the pier</p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594043626018258" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMxVPN2mGbYp6HE2tud-CHi3e1wHF1XajvYPJqqOvhNuXb1HOtoldQEp_Hzyc31o9pIKY8gKc7G9qNXMBgiipcedFsRKl_xss_ij5W5Lndx__eTK__nmWGWviGtGlcqDHS7jQ8pphsvg/s320/CIMG3950.JPG" border="0" /></p>View from our ___'s window (not a hotel... not somebody's house either... don't know what to call it!)<br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-J2-DZU-c7k3Xhgr9-TUVOndQZ0sOEkbqmfOrvqdDnoglQEYj7gC_TcElwwiidNnaqrbCPSxSf7txCEmdrHcRPWCkqTny6PBLIo9VIzhNgyiuE99gijf-FndBz2bb9YO8Be3Ef_T7pg/s1600-h/CIMG4169.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594421572095570" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-J2-DZU-c7k3Xhgr9-TUVOndQZ0sOEkbqmfOrvqdDnoglQEYj7gC_TcElwwiidNnaqrbCPSxSf7txCEmdrHcRPWCkqTny6PBLIo9VIzhNgyiuE99gijf-FndBz2bb9YO8Be3Ef_T7pg/s320/CIMG4169.JPG" border="0" /></a>View from the ferry at Hooksando. That rock happens to look EXACTLY like Korea! Everyday the basic tv channels "take a break" from 4-6, but, when tv resumes at 6am, they play the national anthem with a slideshow of great images of Korea. We saw a handful of those images while at Hongdo and Hooksando, and, these rocks comprise one of them </p><p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1EiTQrW9bHWjv4AAjsohyZTP6AytclGaDBzFG7R7wTlr_UO5JIq15exEJCji9GGbfZyhVM-hsC6oUXtkTbpM4aYIx11Dxx5bK2kN1aybpCfJguGmXlSkt7jI_sBo2HhBqCvG4s2ukCg8/s1600-h/CIMG4191.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236594424202213554" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1EiTQrW9bHWjv4AAjsohyZTP6AytclGaDBzFG7R7wTlr_UO5JIq15exEJCji9GGbfZyhVM-hsC6oUXtkTbpM4aYIx11Dxx5bK2kN1aybpCfJguGmXlSkt7jI_sBo2HhBqCvG4s2ukCg8/s320/CIMG4191.JPG" border="0" /></a> Cloud forest at Hooksando<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236596779429930354" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1mEkkBy_v1XftRYb4wxoBw_i0yZCnYyzjBsB7cn54P6tkatxJLNvUuvO9Un8ZDSyPd4xLvasmP06orHDNbI4JDduPJ3B_qxU-p_3kEvzl2JIQgQ5zGgMxyj6Cx8Zzixhl6tVwZHq7KMI/s320/2008_8_19_041.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Ji Hae and I made a surprise birthday dinner for her mom's bday! I will miss that family tons.</p><p></p><p></p><p>It for now; leaving in 1 week, can you believe it??</p><p>Sara</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-10017271395791146622008-08-13T09:45:00.004-04:002008-08-13T09:58:05.663-04:00$The going rate for luxury items in Korea:<br /><br />-Calvin Klein bra: $100<br /><br />-Victoria's Secret underwear: $50<br /><br />-Seven or True Religion Jeans: $500<br /><br />-Jacket from a department store: $300<br /><br />-Coach purse: $600<br /><br />-Starbucks Coffee: $4<br /><br />-Foreign car prices: On average, 119.8% more expensive than in the USA<br /><br />-Gas: Not sure, but, it takes my friend $130 to fill up her tank and she has a sedan.<br /><br />-Eyelash grafts: $300 (they transplant hair follicles onto your eyelids... the problem is, they keep on growing like the hair on your head does, so, you need to trim them or be visually impaired)<br /><br />-Anything Burbury: Priceless?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-3747218958633550622008-08-07T09:11:00.001-04:002008-08-07T09:11:59.554-04:00YESGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-46845588565499537632008-08-07T08:16:00.007-04:002008-08-07T09:09:51.486-04:00Demo(nstration) Mad(cow)nessSHOOT (pun intended), Korea's soccer team which I love is playing in the Olympics and I need to see this!! Quickly, let me get something off my chest:<br /><br />I think one of the most disconcerting aspects of my stay in South Korea is the widespread negative sentiment that ebbs through the entire country, exploding into waves of protests almost daily in the streets of Seoul. Daily we drive by armored "riot buses," buses with grills on the windows and filled to the brim with Korean police officers wielding shields and clubs. In front of the subway stations are typically 4-8 of these riot police officers, ready to spring into (violent) action at the merest hint of a "Demo" (short for demonstration, or, protest).<br /><br />The negativity stems from much that we, as Americans, can relate to. Distrust, and even anger towards the conservative president. A tanking economy coupled with job shortages. Crazy weather.<br /><br />What I, as a product of a Western and capitalistic educational background, CANNOT relate to is the sheer numer of demos occuring, and the content of the demonstrations. I am all for social activism, and even for political dissent to keep politicians on their toes. But, demos, riot buses, 16,000 police officers clogging the streets daily? I'm having trouble understanding.<br /><br />This was one of the first cases where I realized in a slap in the face realization that I come from a very different cultural background than those around me who share my skin color and blood.<br /><br />South Korean President Lee Myung-Bak who grew up in extreme poverty to extricate himself using very "American" and non-traditional methods in Korea to become the youngest CEO of Hyundai is a very classic example of a strict economist who uses basic business principles to try and draw win win situations. Him, I get. His economic strategies, I get. I think the biggest example of his nothing short of genius political acumen and savvy business skilz is his turning a gross, swampy garbage stream that nobody wanted to live by into a scenic, pleasant river (Cheungecheon) that runs through Seoul spawning much desired riverside properties and beautifying the city during his time as Mayor. That earned Lee Myung-bak his thumbs up from Time Magazine as the "hero of the environment", and, that's about when I slowly started to give my approval to the atypical businessman from Seoul who promised Korea the 747: 7 % annual growth in GDP, $40,000 USD per capita, and a rise from 14th to 7th in world's largest economies.<br /><br />But, Lee has a 17% approval rating from Koreans. And, it's declining. A huge contributing factor to this disappointing number is the pro-American, pro-trade attitude Lee holds. He made the decision to re open trade with the United States beef industries after trade was closed in 2003 after the first reported case of mad cow disease.<br /><br />Well, Koreans went ballistic. And continue to demo DAILY in protest of American beef asking for Lee's resignation.<br /><br />I can't claim to know anything more about the status of Mad Cow Disease in American beef than the lay person in America. But, from my meager knowledge, I don't think that it's a large, or even close to large threat. For the most part, I'm behind the self declared "CEO of Korea, Inc." Mr. Lee.<br /><br />The last few days have been especially tense as President Bush himself has dropped in for a visit en route to Beijing. At night, the streets are alive with raucous protests from middle school aged students to about middle aged professionals.<br /><br />The Koreans I have met are lovely, and, it really puzzles me to hear their political tirades against the President. Maybe I will meet somebody or see something that suddenly will illuminate a side to the story that I currently don't understand... I will try to keep an open mind.<br /><br />For now, I really can't concentrate on writing any further; I love Korea's soccer team (as evidenced by the times my dad and I woke up at 3am to drive two hours and see the World Cup games in a Korean supermarket with 600 other fans) :) More on the riots later... with pictures next time.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-55340303594883133622008-07-28T10:23:00.004-04:002008-07-28T10:27:05.557-04:00Extra pickles pleaseK, so, just had some pizza in Korea. In addition to having shrimp on the top and coming with a side order of pickles (the fried chicken came with radishes...), the crust was stuffed with YAMS.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mmmm</span>... so much for eating less. Once again, WORTH IT!<br /><br />Full and content. And unable to fit in my jeans.<br /><br />Did Miss California really ever happen? Sometimes/most times, I think I dreamt it all!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-16423653656084010532008-07-27T22:43:00.016-04:002008-07-27T23:40:31.151-04:00Suwon and Halmoni<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTczwDrsUFd11wBHb6rzdOmYGGhlJkc6F5ywP2Vj98i4Yt7sMdlAwmiplD2d7HTVklGbACmFfbbixsa3OEzDLqoN7V7WGKRPBitOWkYN0ZDpJQgMuoYj0j8B8ebdNzmUFkjaL204MDeO0/s1600-h/CIMG3501.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227904110995298690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTczwDrsUFd11wBHb6rzdOmYGGhlJkc6F5ywP2Vj98i4Yt7sMdlAwmiplD2d7HTVklGbACmFfbbixsa3OEzDLqoN7V7WGKRPBitOWkYN0ZDpJQgMuoYj0j8B8ebdNzmUFkjaL204MDeO0/s320/CIMG3501.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>In the last few days I visited Suwon, a place just outside of Seoul, to visit my (brace yourself), father's mother's sister, father's mother's sister's husband, and their son, wife, and daughter. Whew. Unbeknowst to me, a good chunk of the fam I've met here in Korea are in medicine, like this Uncle and Aunt who are both doctors (well, the wife is now a professor at the Aju University hospital). Oops... maybe law school isn't right for me? Just kidding! </div><br /><div><br />It's funny because my relatives referred to Suwon as "rural," when, to me, it looked just like Seoul. Only with Hwaseong, a really impressive fortress wall that is 5.7km long with command posts, entrance gates, fire-beacon platforms, etc, and Hwaseong Haenggung, the palace.<br /></div><br /><div>Quick didja know fact: King Sejong was the father of Hangul, the Korean writing system. He created Hangul to unite Korea under one, simple alphabet (according to my travel book, "anyone can learn it in 2 months" though having spent a semester trying to learn it at Harvard, I kind of doubt that...). Since his aim was to teach everybody, even the poor, to use Hangul, he based the characters' shapes on where the readers should place their tongues to make it especially easy to learn. Quite remarkable, and a good idea, though, I tried it just a second ago, and I'm not so sure that ㅊ looks like my tongue when making a "ch" sound, or ㄹ looks like my tongue when making an "r/l" sound. </div><br /><div><br />최세라 (Choi Sa Ra). Hm... maybe the tongue rule made sense back then. </div><br /><div><br />Quick day trips to Insadong and the War Museum, and then off to "Emo Halmoni"'s, my mother's mother's sister's house (which is what "emo" means, haha). She's also a doctor, and, she's still working as a primary care physician at 80 years old! She is very headstrong, and, I love her for it. She argued with the movie theater people about starting the film earlier so we could see it, and then demanding that they seat us in good seats (it was open seating). She ended up walking into a film that had started 30 minutes ago, but, we watched it anyway, and she exclaimed LOUDLY during it. This was her first visit to the movie theater, and, she's a little hard of hearing which came in handy when she overrode the movie theater people's explanations.</div><br /><div><br />For whatever reason, my folks here are obsessed with taking care of me, and demonstrating their love in really bizarre ways. For example, the first house I stayed at housed my aunt who immediately asked me if I had had bowel movement that day. When I said no (BIG BIG BIG mistake), she produced thirty vitamin C tablets and, what I can only describe as bowel movement yogurt. She refused to take no for an answer! I thought, how harmful can yogurt be, right? Wrong. Needless to say, after that first yogurt, I refuse her yogurt three times a day (not even an exaggeration)</div><div><br />My emo halmoni was obessed with making sure I was cool enough. It hasn't been particularly hot in the last few days, yet, she cranked the ac to 17 degrees celsius (let me do the conversion right now... that's 62.6 degrees fahrenheit!!!) AND, insisted on putting a fan in my room (which I turned off asap). Her clinic was even worse. I think the real reason why she loved the movie theater was because it was so darn cold inside.</div><div><br />One universal way my family is showing me they want to take good care of me is by over feeding me, and feeding me fatty, delicious things all the time. The food here is the best I've had, and I'm not one to back down from finishing an entire bowl of spicy hot nangmyun which I've done no less than four times here. I am gaining weight at an alarming rate here seeing as we eat out twice a day. I made a heartbreaking resolution to refuse to eat out starting now because this is ridiculous, and I just threw 2 months of twice a day work outs down the drain.<br /><br />Worth it!<br /><br />Pictures:<br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirm8O5bDT1gB9LPi_WBWU4JIcP4CQkAMCJfZRkJ2Nr2cfBI0mImMK-bFMffJSmp9DDGci6GrFlJdRKGyxvCA-OItU8eJ9Xzj-zB8cr3KmlHIiOII2E5xY8K4-q85bKYSNar7roXk1nwvg/s1600-h/CIMG3640.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227898404245097730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirm8O5bDT1gB9LPi_WBWU4JIcP4CQkAMCJfZRkJ2Nr2cfBI0mImMK-bFMffJSmp9DDGci6GrFlJdRKGyxvCA-OItU8eJ9Xzj-zB8cr3KmlHIiOII2E5xY8K4-q85bKYSNar7roXk1nwvg/s320/CIMG3640.JPG" border="0" /></a> View from the top of Seoul<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJmh7WsEGAJnwOmWfIfHSZbAptI1WTyTKRY6MQbSWkCRNY07D3EN-OAsSrFSuzxsQDBC6ok-HigkHmKLKlrw8qEp21FnfKfLD3YVDqEet-DRtXZnUZlnwRwthkfqWSRrFTFFjpRu5C7gc/s1600-h/CIMG3608.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227898027349230178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJmh7WsEGAJnwOmWfIfHSZbAptI1WTyTKRY6MQbSWkCRNY07D3EN-OAsSrFSuzxsQDBC6ok-HigkHmKLKlrw8qEp21FnfKfLD3YVDqEet-DRtXZnUZlnwRwthkfqWSRrFTFFjpRu5C7gc/s320/CIMG3608.JPG" border="0" /></a> I feel like an awful person for a) taking this picture, and b) thinking what I did, but, come on. The only two white people I see on this entire trip are carrying McDonald's AND Starbucks (though you can't really tell from this picture). It made me think of Wall-E... I KNOW, I'm an awful person!!<br /><br /></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQJg_Y79eQgV7oEz2AIzhbMVNw-JpPdbcAR45dVos1J63Yq_LYD_ru4F6o0b3bLe-iwYKwSNZzOCT5GKLXeDaHjtbi-DwFooKMJgMcRL0n2y_TbHmxLGR83fNR25NuHst_4afY0RGrmQ/s1600-h/CIMG3602.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227897897135716578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQJg_Y79eQgV7oEz2AIzhbMVNw-JpPdbcAR45dVos1J63Yq_LYD_ru4F6o0b3bLe-iwYKwSNZzOCT5GKLXeDaHjtbi-DwFooKMJgMcRL0n2y_TbHmxLGR83fNR25NuHst_4afY0RGrmQ/s320/CIMG3602.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinj1iXgGpRGjTpm5BkkbQAdBrosqvF2QRpYPhMsWJjcoUmZBlOX6l-zAfw-6T2XuvulzPmP110xkV4symv3_df_zt7RFS0Y7HVQi-5ufAgpMayUWJozRs71-cTR8c80Qtb0BO2OT5JULI/s1600-h/CIMG3596.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227897781154630834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinj1iXgGpRGjTpm5BkkbQAdBrosqvF2QRpYPhMsWJjcoUmZBlOX6l-zAfw-6T2XuvulzPmP110xkV4symv3_df_zt7RFS0Y7HVQi-5ufAgpMayUWJozRs71-cTR8c80Qtb0BO2OT5JULI/s320/CIMG3596.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLU05i3aQ1zaI0_2561prLV20acRDbi5QuLUJFj8oVA4rWbxDnm5XjYdV0uTFftmVaO-vr6DcEbotN4tEr4q5m5D35Crrgi-NGk-6sEaOqgSbp8wYekF835zd7mYBcqTfuy3wb6-gr84/s1600-h/CIMG3593.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227897681019621298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLU05i3aQ1zaI0_2561prLV20acRDbi5QuLUJFj8oVA4rWbxDnm5XjYdV0uTFftmVaO-vr6DcEbotN4tEr4q5m5D35Crrgi-NGk-6sEaOqgSbp8wYekF835zd7mYBcqTfuy3wb6-gr84/s320/CIMG3593.JPG" border="0" /></a> Part of the reason why I went to Emo Halmoni's was to get some missing parts of our family's history when they lived in North Korea. Unfortunately, she's the only living member of our family who also lived in North Korea, and, she is getting on in years. These are pics from her family albums.<br /><br />So, in a nutshell, some of the missing pieces go like this:</div><br /><div>My great grandparents lived in North Korea, and owned a rich lumber company that transported logs. In 1950 (later than I previously thought), my folks crossed the 38th parallel by US boats and landed in the southern part of South Korea where they lived in houses made of cardboard for 3 years. My emo halmoni had been proposed to in North Korea by a childhood friend, but, declined. In South Korea, they ran into each other on the streets in front of her cardboard house, and, they got married. She lived by a school, so, at night because there was nothing to do, she went to school and learned English.<br /></div><div>This same emo halmoni rose to become a doctor... everybody loves a true rags to riches story :) I taped her speaking so my mom can help me translate the parts that I missed.<br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzwUiDyxRp2Mm8kBVYXrvAR05bJridcR1beC8bHM05ZNaaKy-HWCLGdGnr8sZtE4zwoL8SHXFmak5JY6sfmAxxwgcswz9zRTD3OXeDGM-uh6keyyCiXkM1ZRr4vx6c1o7oISE68Vn_qg/s1600-h/CIMG3580.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227897520034062146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzwUiDyxRp2Mm8kBVYXrvAR05bJridcR1beC8bHM05ZNaaKy-HWCLGdGnr8sZtE4zwoL8SHXFmak5JY6sfmAxxwgcswz9zRTD3OXeDGM-uh6keyyCiXkM1ZRr4vx6c1o7oISE68Vn_qg/s320/CIMG3580.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Korean traffic<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiJLdlLdS8VuHnl0sfEsRcsXnri6gPbh233t8yj3s5Uz-ELTzCB0XN12ArgAG_Wb5sHEns00UJc8ugemrL14eNmlTaqVB83zzXWP7Y6BQNT_f8U5B8a5blgsvNkCvYY3U1Lm47VN54tgg/s1600-h/CIMG3567.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227897332315729074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiJLdlLdS8VuHnl0sfEsRcsXnri6gPbh233t8yj3s5Uz-ELTzCB0XN12ArgAG_Wb5sHEns00UJc8ugemrL14eNmlTaqVB83zzXWP7Y6BQNT_f8U5B8a5blgsvNkCvYY3U1Lm47VN54tgg/s320/CIMG3567.JPG" border="0" /></a> Me being a tourist in ancient admiral clothes<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLjiWRy_YL-NEdC4BdmqadkxAg6sSuTfwmEm0du8_V-GMIPavTVWHFrBjVJjc3ZOLiY071YO6E8KikPJIbOvhR3iDHtIfAkmTLoO4pe-4d9ODHyK_ChRfwN5zoKQzo8-ncxb8Swtzfqg/s1600-h/CIMG3546.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227897060128154850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLjiWRy_YL-NEdC4BdmqadkxAg6sSuTfwmEm0du8_V-GMIPavTVWHFrBjVJjc3ZOLiY071YO6E8KikPJIbOvhR3iDHtIfAkmTLoO4pe-4d9ODHyK_ChRfwN5zoKQzo8-ncxb8Swtzfqg/s320/CIMG3546.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The war museum. On the left are flags from all the nations that participated in some way in the Koraen War<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7AG51wBx0n4x35-LkpXeXGQvzl4y1yEuvie27EidAokl-4mBIQjAJZExPGkOkmEJpBL7A4h_fuaJjCsz19lfKKMqgxBF32qnL_T0GzSE1uB1F9G3md5I_Bq3CVXm1Hri7Q6WXZpAPWWY/s1600-h/CIMG3522.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227896895234869490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7AG51wBx0n4x35-LkpXeXGQvzl4y1yEuvie27EidAokl-4mBIQjAJZExPGkOkmEJpBL7A4h_fuaJjCsz19lfKKMqgxBF32qnL_T0GzSE1uB1F9G3md5I_Bq3CVXm1Hri7Q6WXZpAPWWY/s320/CIMG3522.JPG" border="0" /></a>My ridiculous cousins behaving ridiculously! The small one on the right is CRAZY. She would not stop singing "DOMO ORIGATO MR. ROBOTO"!!<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLSiucISQIH79zuhvxrCIjmc6NsYE643FjZ2tXvfEuez3eS_dYPBaLIwE5HoyQL6QYNRzX7Es4Wz-nHuUHQPPoiOreAlymSD-_mZQ_eFCqUnT1qyjLjTPdIErRn8rwQ5ZT2uxQyDZ20M4/s1600-h/CIMG3537.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227896608577885938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLSiucISQIH79zuhvxrCIjmc6NsYE643FjZ2tXvfEuez3eS_dYPBaLIwE5HoyQL6QYNRzX7Es4Wz-nHuUHQPPoiOreAlymSD-_mZQ_eFCqUnT1qyjLjTPdIErRn8rwQ5ZT2uxQyDZ20M4/s320/CIMG3537.JPG" border="0" /></a> Cousins and dad's mom's brother's wife on the right :)<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdo3ej4abz21oH5CqVjZD2X7CsYu8bsnuDpWFVNGYbwXUCwqck-tHCv_744YpR7x_na9LP4jVSiureB5mVeGDjxhh2vxzNIUDlsORsfk7AluCYkzTkXY1LFk5Pb_KRKeIO1QBJQiQjiAA/s1600-h/CIMG3488.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227896242575137106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdo3ej4abz21oH5CqVjZD2X7CsYu8bsnuDpWFVNGYbwXUCwqck-tHCv_744YpR7x_na9LP4jVSiureB5mVeGDjxhh2vxzNIUDlsORsfk7AluCYkzTkXY1LFk5Pb_KRKeIO1QBJQiQjiAA/s320/CIMG3488.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Hwasong</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The heat has broken, and, I've discovered this smokey mosquito repellant for night times, so, I have not had another mosquito bite since the last post! </div><br /><div>Therefore:</div><div></div><br /><div>Waistband 10; Family history 10!<br /></div></div><div>It could be worse :)<br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-36028280425665559812008-07-20T07:12:00.002-04:002008-07-20T07:22:53.310-04:00Trying to update as much as possibleCoincidentally, especially for this blog, one of my fellow toga riders who I met on the infamous "Toga Tour" while attending the Institute for Humane Studies seminar on Poverty and Prosperity is now in South Korea for his Fulbright! I just read his blog, and it is absolutely dead on in so many regards. Here is an excert that I felt especially hit the nail on the head:<br /><br />"Also I should note that since being here and hanging out almost every night with Korean people, I have noticed how open and honest they always are with everyone. Sometimes this is bad, like if they think you are overweight, but most of the time it is a doorway to awesome conversation and thought. They are so sincere, and will not hesitate to tell you that seeing you has made them very happy. This frank style of talk is refreshing, but is also somewhat intimidating because any judgment they make about you is likely to be verbalized. "<br /><br />Along the same vein (forthright and outspoken), my mom's side of the family is pretty darn chunky, especially for Koreans. While eating dinner a few nights ago, my entire family kept on bringing up the fact that my cousin (or one of them anyway), had gained all the weight she had lost 2 years ago right before her wedding. I felt so bad for her! But, it's just the culture here, and, she completely took it in stride.<br /><br />Another thing is, here, you define yourself by your family. I remember in my human rights anthro class hearing Prof Theidon talk about how those from America define themselves by their job, hobbies, interests, and appearance, but, here you are made up of your blood first before anything else. And, it's easy to see why: for family, people will pull out all of the stops; for family there is no such thing as discomfort. <br /><br />For all my soul searching and self searching in the last few years, I really never once thought to look deep, deep inside... in my blood. The answers to questions I have been asking are slowly being answered :)<br /><br />Now, I'm off to take a nap in my first BED of this trip! Many Koreans still sleep on the ondul (heatable floor), and, my back is craving a nice, cozy bed!<br /><br />Besos, erm, popos!<br />SaraUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-86331187051542894522008-07-19T21:11:00.003-04:002008-07-19T21:22:56.170-04:00Mommy?I cried through half of dinner last night. Backtrack...<br /><br />There was a period of time in our family, like most, when my mom went through hard times. The thing about my mom is, she's the type of person to keep it all inside for the well being of the family. The only way that I could tell that she was upset or tired was through her eyes which would droop and look awfully sad even when she was smiling.<br /><br />Well, yesterday for the first time I met my mom's older sister. She not only had the EXACT same hands and same little habits (picking off a piece of tape and rolling it in her fingers), but, she had my mom's "stressed" eyes. I think a combination of jetlag, being away from mom, and being surprised by my aunt's resemblance to my mom made me suddenly erupt into tears, the kind of tears that fall silently and without ceasing.<br /><br />I felt awful for crying... here was my aunt who had travelled just to see me, who grew up with my mom in such hard times... and here was the spoiled American girl who lives in the land of opportunties. What right did I have to cry?<br /><br />And yet, the tears fell into my water, my soup, and my lap every single time I looked at my aunt and saw her sad sad eyes. How blessed we are to live in the United States where the poor can become rich and those who work hard are rewarded at the end of the day.<br /><br />I never get homesick, but, last night I was. Seeing all these brand new family members, finally putting faces to stories, living in the section of the city where my mom grew up... all of it is making me long to complete the tree and have my parents here too.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-27744385762432789392008-07-18T01:57:00.005-04:002008-07-18T02:34:00.875-04:00First days: pictures!Thank goodness for tech savvy cousins/Koreans! Due to them, I now can upload my pictures onto this journal, huzzah! I have to go, so I'll make this one quick :) Here are some pics from the last few days... enjoy!<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3388.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3388.jpg" border="0" /></a>My cousin cutting up the deeeeelicious Kalbi meat (the Korean equivalent of steak) to grill at our table. Btw, check out the panchan (small little dishes) on our table.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3380.jpg" border="0" /><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3381.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3381.jpg" border="0" /></a> Parking, Korean style by driving onto a metal rack ala Wall-E.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3379.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3379.jpg" border="0" /></a>My uncle who was just ripped off for the first time by Starbucks (to quote, in an extremely loud voice (he's a professional opera singer): "WHO IS THIS ****n <em>BUCKS GUY</em> ANYWAY???"). He asked my cousin to go get him a coffee, and so my cousin came back with a Grande coffee... that was $5. And, the cup was definitely NOT a Grande by American standards. In Korea, they don't even sell Venti on the menu.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3375.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3375.jpg" border="0" /></a> My family! My cousin on the left, my two uncles, me, my other cousin, and her husband :) Again, check out the mad panchan!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3368.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3368.jpg" border="0" /></a> Poor girls trying to get people to buy skin care products... This is where stereotypes are born.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3362.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3362.jpg" border="0" /></a> Shopping with the multitudes in Myong Dong<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3357.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3357.jpg" border="0" /></a>2 things: 1) flat screen tvs everywhere thanks to Samsung which is based in Seoul. 2) Suicide barriers in the form of the glass doors in the subway stations<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3344.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3344.jpg" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224237943586149314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLRIqAm4A8jkJqP8c_GoPpvzYB9Fvwm0awAx3Qnij9o2QIU36uwnmpk_dadFmM-XzeF7xLiHDWdtc7iG3gHDcibg5lf_ng0wNDDhNbqUOHxSPnU-N3V_jRPlVCtvUqM75iCZ39Sx_nf0/s320/CIMG3350.JPG" border="0" />Touching World Cup grass after we visited the World Cup stadium. We also went into the locker rooms where my favorite soccer players once peed. It was a thrill, let me tell you :) They transformed most of the world cup stadium into a shopping center and movie theater.<br /><br /><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3319.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div>Dog meat soup: The only reason why we look so happy is because we didn't try it yet.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3322.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3322.jpg" border="0" /></a> DOG HAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3311.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3312.jpg" border="0" />My cousin's super sweet grandmother took an unnatural liking to me ("I have an idea Sara! You can wake up and go to pray with me at 4:00 in the morning") and went out and bought these "treats" for me special. They are some part of the cow's stomach on the left, tongue in the middle, and Soondae, a sausage made from pig intestine on the outside, and blood, intestine, and vegetables on the inside. Actually, the Soondae is my favorite!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3268.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3268.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Korean palace<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3310.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3310.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Oh Disney... iRiver came out with Disney inspired mp3 players that are apparently all the rage.<br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3238.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v413/asiansweeetness/CIMG3238.jpg" border="0" /></a> View from my Uncle's house where I am staying (in Seoul).</div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It finally stopped raining, too, so, I think I can safely put the score at Mosquitoes: 2, Rain: 0, Sara:1</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Lots of love, more pics later, I have to goooo</div><br /><div>Jee Hee</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-34364675598918636062008-07-16T07:01:00.004-04:002008-07-16T07:58:39.667-04:00South Korea, Day 1So, approximately 1 day after coming in 4th runner up at the Miss California pageant (yes, pageant), I bought my ticket to first go to Korea for 6 weeks to visit my family and learn about my family's history for a potential book in the future, and then to go back to Harvard to start my junior year, one year later than my peers due to my year off from school. I truly believe that God has a plan for everyone, and, it was simply in his plan that I should not become Miss California and have to take another year off from school. Now that I have spent my first day in Korea, I am so thankful that I had this mentality because now I get to appreciate the warmth of my family, eccentricities of this country, and secrets in my family's history fully.<br /><br />With that being said, I am typing this from my Uncle's (mom's brother) house in Seoul, South Korea. Seoul is a hustle and bustle kind of place with a population of 10.4 million people (half of which I think I saw on the crowded subway system this afternoon).<br /><br />This morning and afternoon, my cousin and I explored Changyeonggung, and Changdeokgung, two of five ancient palaces originally constructed between 1405 and 1412. Koreans are an interesting bunch to say the least. For one, their scribes almost unanimously proclaim the Korean race to be the oldest in the world, and, scribes from around the world have declared Koreans to be one of the most homogenous people due to their selectivity and seclusion from 30th century BC. Both of these palaces were constructed "Korean style" with gorgeous and colorful buildings whose architecture resembles the hills the palaces lie in the shadow of.<br /><br />*Note to future Sara: insert picture of Changdeokgung here. I forgot my camera cord at home*<br /><br />Although it was rainy (way to go Sara, visiting Korea in the middle of their rainy season...), the location was perfect as the buildings were literally nestled next to hills. My cousin and I took some time to walk around the royal gardens and pond that were within the palace's premises as well as exchanged ghost stories while sitting in front of the Changdeokgung palace waiting for the rain to let up.<br /><br />On the way to a fancy schmancy lunch, we walked by several food stands, and, temptation gave way to steaming hot Duk Bo Gi (rice based large noodles with a spicy, orange-red sauce) and Ti Gim (fried squid and sweet potatoes). I thought I died and went to food heaven. For $1.50. I'm going to love living here! And I'm pretty certain that our meal was better than anything we could have ordered in the fancy schmancy place anyway :)<br /><br />After some shopping and more rain, we met up with Uncle and decided to go out to dinner. Now, before I begin describing the next meal, I need to issue a preemptive declaration: I love dogs, and even own the sweetest Beagle in the history of the world who sleeps in the same bed as I do. But, for dinner, my Uncle, cousin and I ate Bosintang, a dog meat soup.<br /><br />To continue with the story, the restuarant was a typical Korean restaurant where you take off your shoes at the door and sit on the ground, criss cross apple sauce style. Every Korean meal is accompanied by several smaller dishes of various pickled goods, but, I barely ate those in anticipation of Dog Soup. When we got our dishes, I thought that everything would be ok. I mean, the meat, though fairly dark in color, looked just like any other meat you would see in a soup. The texture was very chewy however, and, while on my fourth bite, get this: I discovered a frickin DOG HAIR in my soup.<br /><br />!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />I spit it out, and my cousin and I examined it:<br /><br />*insert picture of disgusting dog hair*<br /><br />As you can tell from the picture, the dog was clearly light brown in color.<br /><br />After thinking about it, I decided that, contrary to the opinion of my cousin, I HAD to finish the rest of the darn soup because some poor dog sacrificed his life for the sake of filling my bowl/stomach. So, I finished every single piece of awful, chewy, in a pretty gross soup dog meat in that bowl. And I now have a stomach ache.<br /><br />Day one:<br /><br />Dog: 1, Muggy, raining weather: 1, Sara: 0Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-12506456417929545012007-10-02T21:26:00.002-04:002008-07-28T10:23:15.606-04:00Home sweet sweet sweet home (from the Dominican Republic)TOUCHDOWN!!<br /><br />As I write this, I am sitting in my favorite leather recliner with a bowl of Mocha Almond ice cream at my side in my house in sunny California. Just a few short hours ago, Joe and I were wandering the streets of Puerto Plata, the Dominican Republic, eating ice cream that I picked out because there was the least left, a sure sign that it's the most popular flavor, right? Well, the ice cream turned out to not only be rum flavored, but actually contained a dash of Brugal or two... no wonder it was almost sold out! We just happened to be in town for the annual Merengue festival, a nationally televised concert, performance, and crowd drawing event, and as we waited (for four hours it turns out because we had no idea what time it started), we gorged ourselves on first dinner at an eccentric Dominican Irish pub (almost as good as Senor Don Nelson's), then on a hot dog on a stick DR style, our first two peanut sheets, coconut candies, shakes, more peanut candy, more shakes, conch, more peanut candy, etc. until we were out a good... two dollars out but filled to the brim on 10 cent goodies.<br /><br />In anticipation of leaving the DR, Joe and I managed to cram in a visit to the Brugal factory,<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116916652822588754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK5p3IDPFnckp5wtcSJX9yFUWYNr6-hdUVu9TKsPrwvmDK1o-3C5g-mmmzFhB6G7pmXbUwTxJ-Fvvrc4hBYSmh2pSFxNSBK1jOar3E81Dkngh2JqtwHKaIslQPNr0qiBotYO8a3l48kHI/s400/DSCF2260.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116916897635724642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYa_lA4knzAP_DkLZ26Bub7EKWLUzyZivog3_GUiPAUP7hFgAwx6eRD7nb2gjVKrVWskRQkBiPBLqh9tFjAgF5PeQ2y_h6YjBTk4dkHxexqPZ_4aYTIXGJkIj6VH0-_Sl7TVpyLroW8w/s400/DSCF2263.jpg" border="0" /><br />where 5 million + bottles of rum are produced annually with only 20% exported out of the island (that's lot of rum Dominicans are consuming... Brugal is the third largest producer of rum in the world), an amber store where we saw amber rocks being refined on rotating wheels, a quaint and out of the way bookstore where the English books were stored in the "back room,"<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116917413031800194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IeZY8vrGmi2PjTu-2xzz5Op1yRyY6OynZ-AIN-CULMOuSBfsuC6_Av4BK9m5ip2ICOrzg7ouooE7T0WjULbbcrJcMoIOBTGUOWoJ8Drv04H_ShzLMnJp0v7dyhLqzA52gP3vAQI8Vmo/s400/DSCF2303.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p>and of course, plenty of walks through the streets of Puerto Plata, one of my favorite cities to stay in by far.</p><p></p><p></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116917236938141042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6bLSLb1vMomfwrwcbRcHHnD_y4xGsEvU30vLd5js5XQldioMeBTNpvqpku2e8vGvvU0bU_tWCbY8F3vYy6EBy8vbWxnZhJgoT0Cvu3o_yjfFsANU4hFKznrApZFlENQaHkuwahd6FWY/s400/DSCF2305.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>A far cry from the hustle and bustle of Santo Domingo, or the uber touristy Cabarete, Puerto Plata can be described in one word: tranquilo. Home to a handful of ex pats, honeymooners, and, of course, the foul mouthed Irishwoman from the restaurant next door, Puerto Plata is a functioning authentic Dominican town, but with just the right number of tourists of the right sort. We met Richard from South Boston who vacationed in PP for 20 years and ended up retiring there, as well as a lovely couple from Indiana who we met when we hitched a ride on their gringomobile (duck tour esque open truck for albino visitors) led by Senor "Hola Coca Cola." It was the perfect combo of English speakers and locals, and a wonderful way to end the trip.</p><p>On the day before our flight out, Joe and I decided to climb aboard a random gua gua without knowing where it was going. We struck up a conversation with a 20 something Dominican guy named Ariel who it turns out has visited Miami and spoke great English. He offered to take us to Playa Dorada, a white sands beach, and along the way we stopped off at his grand home and exchanged numbers. Once again, I hope our paths cross sometime in the future; our encounter with open minded and amiable Ariel was typical of the entire trip and the wonderful folk on the Dominican Republic.</p><p>With a goodbye to one of my favorite hostels that we stayed in,</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116917816758726034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixdssJPbO9NP6jGyvap8dYiPSYN8P_2TrwiAHH8vuPgY9YzJViCeJG45DuXzpuq-bquLza_dwgO6SGbHOgorV3_TMzCThTo4AaS0D-uvLT4cCGzK5Lbb-TQoCJUv81wi6QUXUuwFsTops/s400/DSCF2289.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>we were on our way to Shanna's, and then, the airport (almost choking with the stench we eminated in the cab with windows that refused to roll down).</p><p></p><p>Funny enough, though I've been in the states less than 24 hours, I already miss it, it being the people, the biodiversity, the warmth, and, of course, the Joe. This trip was well needed, and it did absolute wonders for a girl who took a year off to make the trip, and a boy who quit his cushy job to travel for five weeks with her.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116919964242374082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UwWnmv8N6OJraTa9VFkOTWAXuOJC8SvCUFf274KjZuREUFGJctWBp94SI62-_tdP5hfbTXCBuh3UUYaIzVjkzXzLZliKpElPW2KQ3rt9S3BYFA-Eh3LIjY0YyobDh6dxaf7mzctMvc0/s400/DSCF2075.jpg" border="0" /> ^ Above is poor, unsuspecting Joe being pounced upon while cat napping on the beach. I called over a hair braider while he wasn't looking, and, though he protested, she promptly descended on his hair and left behind three red, white, and blue braids (no more, and no less, and all on the left side of his head) which he good sportedly left in for the remainder of the trip.<br /></p><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJwJNrvd4kOp9heuVdcgU5p0xMRvbhHNsPI72oo3yzsdvtKXtmN38TIIxWQXOkGqpWWNBrADmin14oHjQCICcI8STNmEeaElk0cQmvcy91Yf5P6Fbuv1LNb9opoCZ312BwFmmjr_sqXo/s1600-h/DSCF2063.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116918349334670754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJwJNrvd4kOp9heuVdcgU5p0xMRvbhHNsPI72oo3yzsdvtKXtmN38TIIxWQXOkGqpWWNBrADmin14oHjQCICcI8STNmEeaElk0cQmvcy91Yf5P6Fbuv1LNb9opoCZ312BwFmmjr_sqXo/s400/DSCF2063.jpg" border="0" /></a> ^ I miss this boy so much already! </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Unfortunately, my camera broke sometime while we were riding up to Julio's house in the back of a truck (I seated on thirty Presidente bottles, Joe seated on a gas tank), so, I will go back and pepper my entries with more pics taken on Joe's camera as they start trickling in.<br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>Thanks for keeping up with this edition of The Travelling Togas... you'll be happy to know that true to our word, Joe and I busted out the white sheets to wear togas on our last night in the Dominican Republic</div><div>. </div><div></div><div>It's been 5 weeks of Dominican life, I've witnessed two motorcycle accidents (one at our feet, one from a thirty foot drop where the guy broke his arm and probably more), had mild hallucinations from eating a pound of rancid pig that was roasted in front of our hostel, and jumped off or climbed/slid down no less than 27 waterfalls. It's been quite the experience... hopefully, I'll be able to use this blog soon for some more toga adventures!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-52518421441906016842007-09-28T18:41:00.001-04:002007-09-28T19:24:08.121-04:0027 waterfalls, one dayFirst of all, I read my entry from yesterday, and realized that I unknowingly implicated Joe in a lot of the crap I doled about Boys. He, ever the gentleman, was the perfect male travel companion. The problem was, for the first time on the trip, I really would have appreciated some good ol female socializing... just one conversation to tide me through the trek. In no way was it his fault, and he is, I maintain, an incredible traveler and a friend that I will have for a lifetime. Sorry buddy, I didn´t mean to come out so harsh.<br /><br />Today, we took a gua gua a few kms past Imbert where we hiked, swam, slid down, and jumped off of no less than 27 waterfalls. It. Was. INCREDIBLE. One of the best trips of the trip, it was absolutely breathtaking to swim in the fresh water pools, look up to vines and sunlight seeping inbetween branches, and later, jump off of 30 foot waterfalls into 10km deep pools.<br /><br />It felt absolutely magical... as if fairies and the like would creep out as soon as we were done rope climbing up the side of a rock. Magical.<br /><br />I promised Antoni, our guide, that I would return and bring all my friends, and I know that I will make good on that promise. Amazing.<br /><br />Los Viente Siete Charcos everybody... tell your friends!<br /><br />--------------------------------<br /><br />In other news, the hostel that Joe and I are staying at is the cheapest one so far, but, the most pleasant hands down. At $5 a night, there are actually two doors that are nailed like barn doors, and we were given a padlock to secure it when we leave. The room itself is mostly occupied by a twin bed (which explains how Joe´s leg ended up on my face last night), and a bathroom with no door. The ceilings are unnaturally high, almost twice the length of the actual room, and outside, there is a small sitting area in the courtyard with lines of fresh laundry stretching in all directions. The people are extremely hospitable, and the entire building has a quaint, eccentric feel with a dull pink exterior, and pale yellow walls inside.<br /><br />On the down side, Joe and I have not showered in 6 days now... we smell. Badly. We have been jumping into some river or another almost every day, but, I always manage to forget the soap or feel bad about soiling the potable water. Our room does have a shower, but, water seems to be a bit... tempermental at best. We can only flush the toilet sometimes (about every 20 minutes or so when Joe timed it), and the sink works pretty much when it wants to.<br /><br />I am going to go try to take a shower... wish me luck! I hope in three days my parents can recognize me beneath all this grime...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-77508973079696510572007-09-27T12:57:00.001-04:002008-07-16T07:52:26.968-04:00The problem with boys* Since writing this blog, I have found out that Pico Duarte is not only the largest mountain in the Dominican Republic, but the Caribbean as well.<br /><br />The last three days have been devoted to arranging and attempting a climb up Pico Duarte, the largest mountain in the DR. At 3000 meters, it actually takes a climb up Pico Yaque, a smaller mountain, and then a trek through the range up to the windy, cold, and cloudy Pico Duarte. Normal and sane tourists attempt the climb in 3-4 days, while larger groups do it in a week. We wanted to do it in two. And thus began the problems.<br /><br />Who exactly is this ¨we¨that I speak of? Well, of course, the ever tranquilo Joe, our resident surfer boy fom Cabarete, Francis, and our guide, Julio. We ended up taking our friend Francis because it seemed like a good way to repay him for free lessons and an introduction for Joe, and a reintroduction for me, to Cabarete´s night life. Plus, he´s quite simply a 16 year old trapped in a 19 year old´s body, and a whole ton of fun.<br /><br />So, the people are all people who I consider friends. Good people makes for good times, right? Well, the trip was<br /><br />HORRIBLE.<br /><br />HORRIBLE.<br /><br />HORRIBLE.<br /><br />It was probably the worst experience of my life. Maybe second to the first time that I visited the burning clothes in the DR... but it was pretty high up on the list.<br /><br />Now, I consider myself to be a relatively fit person. I can run a 7 minute mile, I work out at home, and I used to take pride in my dedication to working out 4-6 times a week. Well, after 72 hours of not eating when we got sick, and the subsequent 1 meal of day that Joe and I were able to stomach, I was definitely not at my best.<br /><br />The boys, however, were Joe, the triathlete who mid mountain declared that he would like to return and run a marathon after this trip, Francis, a surfing, windsurfing, and kite surfing champion against world competitors with a six pack I could do my laundry on, and our guide, Julio, who makes the trip up the mountain five times a month.<br /><br />The hike was straight up. Needless to say, I was the last one, and not only on the hiking up parts. At times I was jogging to keep up with the long legged pace of the others, even when we encountered rare moments of level land. Literally for every step they took, I took two on the rocky and muddy terrain. After the first two hours, I was tired, breathless, and my knees hurt. After the third, I was cursing in Korean every fourth step. After the fourth, I was cursing in Korean every fourth step, and leaking tears on every fifth. Tears which I discreetly hid under the pretext of wiping my glasses (God knows why in retrospect as the others were long, long, LONG out of sight). When we approached 1500 meters and 5 hours of hiking on Pico Yaque, I could not go further. Although the others wanted to continue on, I put my foot down. We had two options: to descend Pico Yaque and spend the night in the valley with a river to bathe in, a waterfall, and an indigenous Taino rock, or, to go up into the cold, cloudy, Pico Duarte which was another mountain climb up. We ended up going down and spending the night in this gorgeous valley with a flat plain that I will dream about in subsequent months. When we arrived, I promptly laid down for a nap, and wished that I would die.<br /><br />The next day was better. I only have about four new, bloody scratches from times I fell, and I was only cursing about every tenth step. Mainly because I ran out of words to say in Korean.<br /><br />Now, to the title of this blog. The problem with boys. While the boys were racing ahead of me, I got a chance to contemplate a few things. Such as the fact that even before we climbed, the boys were talking about how oh, 8 hours to get up Pico Yaque is NOTHING. We can do it in six. Three days? Psssh, we can do it in two. Two mules? We only need one. Five gallons of water? We only need three. I too thought that two days would be enough, but, the boys were... such BOYS! Since they were barreling ahead, nobody got a chance to actually stop and see, wow, what agreat view, or oh man, what is that bird song I hear? While behind the group, I saw not one but two solitaires (extremely rare birds), Palm Chats, a some white necked crows, and some other unidentifiable, but no less impressive birds. When we stopped, the chatter was about who was a bigger pansy, and I did not appreciate the sign on the side of the mountain that read Sara´s Crazy, or the lizard in the drinking water. On the entire trip both ways, barely a smile was cracked, much less a legit conversation.<br /><br />On the way down on the second day, after the others had long passed out of my eyesight, I came to a fork in the road. While the boys had time to write ¨Sara´s Crazy¨on the side of the mountain, they could not have possibly had time to leave a marker telling me which road to take. Oh no. One road led up, one led down. I took the one that led down, which I discovered later was the wrong fork. It led to a river with fresh footprints in the mud around some stones, so I assumed that everybody had crossed earlier across the rocks. Midway through, one o fthe rocks overturned and I fell into the river. Bam, another cut on my leg, not to mention the fact that I was soaking from sneaker to mid chest for the rest of the hike. I kept on going through the river to another fork, where I made another wrong turn. The thing is, by the time I realized my mistake and retraced my steps, there was not a word about the wet clothes, fresh bloody scratch on my leg, or furious face. Wordless, like they were for the rest of the trip, the boys just turned and walked on. BOYS!! My feet grew soggy, then blistered blood because of the little fall in the river.<br /><br />I will get more fit, and I will climb Pico Duarte... someday. But, the next time I do it, I will be with a GIRL. Boys just don´t get it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-56954736468772476132007-09-21T18:04:00.000-04:002007-10-02T23:03:19.771-04:00Alive and more<table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><br /><tbody><br /><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><p>Joe's out getting Mac and Cheese beause the new, super awesome place that we're staying at has a stove and refrigerator! Sweeet... God bless Cabarete.<br /><br />After the four (!!!) bus changes it took (while sick no less) to get to Cabarete, Joe and I met up with a friend's friend named Francis. Francis has lived in Cabarete all his life, and was the 2005 windsurfing champion of Cabarete, and the third place finisher in 06. So, pretty much, if you're going to be at the world's best location for wind surfing and kite surfing, he's the guy to talk to. He is in the sun so much that his awesome hair is completely naturally bleached!<br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116937762586848866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1jUKhzN879tuVppY3o5_5pniBQitj5BwJzTcSRu0VNfJLB0xdBEIMvUpJREtaEem5ZXDtjzOEUUo06y7_YAZBuY6mWRh7MQE2NrlR00gddPyR0jkrEna1CF4bc_euYk1UkmqgxzhMnwo/s320/DSCF2113.jpg" border="0" /><br />Francis is amazingly nice, and not the least bit conceited at all. He lives literally on the beach, and grew up surfing and playing in the water. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116936577175875138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlOUZ4m4J89Gdn6LhPTT6jXhhueGAN62Ovk82QfMKYARKsnC8vPZJGbi0bCPDFxW1t9N1uSvko51SUlWpmvlzeyTNxFqNv91ewI0zV6wT4Ayvw3oJH4cz6e9T9FdAKUmjQVDZf9LvsKg/s320/DSCF2059.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116938522796060290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUuY4T8GlLZhxb_B0ndtZv-YhWYMmy9wmBPTdfJViMD4QlTMEOZiXaqKs5x5KwGL9QWO4q0uck3AgXgEOC1SwliRuJ-PHLpiLBFfOQHwomj37IwzGvQakCeSd2W9wRw6Etb-7m28DmE7k/s320/DSCF2144.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>^ Francis's house, and Francis and his cousins.</p><p>The last two days he has been teaching us how to surf, although, I'm sure I feel a lot cooler on the surfboard than I actually look. Actually, I'm sure of that because the first time I tried to surf, I promptly hit myself in the head with the surfboard. The second time, I hit my chin. At least I'm not bleeding (much) like Joe whose knee is all scraped up! It was so worth it.<br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116936113319407154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RERRt_PGdPNgK92sw73ilYc8uYZL4xZ-EYYQVYz3A0SXxo6cneF4-3gjXjGhEoVKgSaiG7v2_qqEmiJe5FL9762egArIOS58THS9cNoC_CEpTfZ3f2wwhlwclxW0Eoop6aAOFtl3f_A/s320/DSCF2123.jpg" border="0" /> ^ Taking a coconut break after being demolished by the surfboard. Check out the bruises on my right leg...<br /><br />Tomorrow is kite surfing, and Sunday, we're taking Francis with us to climb Pico Duarte! We figured, hey, why not, and, he was enthusiastic about it as well. Joe thinks we can climb it in two and a half days, but, I'm expecting a three day climb, with the help of a mule. We'll see...<br /><br />God bless Cabarete as the perfect way to end this sickness!<br /></p></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-56595612992791963522007-09-18T15:55:00.000-04:002007-09-28T19:20:54.516-04:00Ew.Both Joe and I have been felled by some mystery illness that has us vomiting and having diharrea (is that how you spell it?), with some side effects of mild hallucinations, chills, and headaches. Thankfully, it seems to be passing, but, the last two days have not been pleasant with the midnight motorcycle ride to the hospital (the only time in the DR when I felt like I was going to die... and not from the illness, but, from the motorcycle driver who almost tipped us over on a well-placed speedbump!!), a shot inserted in the rear end without even a word of warning, and more vomit in our shower, on our steps, outside the hotel than even after Harvard Yale.<br /><br />We{ve slept night and day, and are finally able to drink down gatorade. Keep us in your thoughts as we experiment with choking down ritz crackers!<br /><br />Huge thanks goes out to five people:<br />Mom and Dad... you guys were of course the first people I called, and thanks for checking up on us! Isn{t it funny how no matter what bad or good thing happens, my first instinct is to tell you two?<br /><br />Philip... always awesome, and though your advice didn{t help at all lol, it was still reassuring to hear from my big bro.<br /><br />The Seabass... I forgot to tell you, but the medication that you told us under no circumstances to take was the very same that both the nurse and the pharmacist perscribed us! We would be so lost without you.<br /><br />and, of course, the Joe. Always looking out for me, the one to get out in the rain to call a motorcycle taxi, the one who held my hand when I was vomiting and crying outside the hospital, and the one who insisted on being the one to get medicine (unfortunately, mid declaration, he had to run to the bathroom, but, it was a great speech nonetheless), Joe has always been the most perfect friend and devout gentleman.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-39227617041100019902007-09-16T11:15:00.000-04:002007-09-28T19:22:54.977-04:00Some facebook pics<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1dSWo4qWzdeHMkRtq0p-fxLC1RweGJgrtV3Gh7jIw_RQXf_yIXDsYInLretwif25zK5KM5ZN9foOuJ1M7yht29_WeW93FtydBrt6n81oayBq6wDuNGh3H22U6M4COJm8UYEzRm5KuKk/s1600-h/n33186_33127612_4727.jpg">S</a>ome of the pics I put on Sebastian´s computer (and some of his as well) have been put on facebook finally! Here are some very after the fact pics. Enjoy!<br /><br />P.S. The $6 hostel where we are staying now does not have a sink, so, Joe and I have been trying to brush our teeth etc. in the shower that does not have a shower curtain... good times! Oh well, it´s better than the communal bathrooms we used when staying in the same room with 7 peace core volunteers (hey, we wanted their hostel rates which were 1-5th the cost of any of the other rooms), or the rainwater baths we took at Blanacas!<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110826373799498642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1dSWo4qWzdeHMkRtq0p-fxLC1RweGJgrtV3Gh7jIw_RQXf_yIXDsYInLretwif25zK5KM5ZN9foOuJ1M7yht29_WeW93FtydBrt6n81oayBq6wDuNGh3H22U6M4COJm8UYEzRm5KuKk/s320/n33186_33127612_4727.jpg" border="0" /> At the baptism of Milka, my Goddaughter! Michelle, Roznie, and the Pastor are from left to right. Unfortunately, I think the exposure in this pic was a little off...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhropiNdxfg7Xq3pqdnFILV3GKWe8yA9HQILBi0Zq_jcVLcplH9WVG06Hxo0C_cobsi2kYLE7gLsMvBLl791wdOniT1tRYxgn3vvW-MlNJcSyKhrJ-l9R0GAQ8u5z8mBKGX2jlBByoGotE/s1600-h/n33186_33127606_6213.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110826270720283522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhropiNdxfg7Xq3pqdnFILV3GKWe8yA9HQILBi0Zq_jcVLcplH9WVG06Hxo0C_cobsi2kYLE7gLsMvBLl791wdOniT1tRYxgn3vvW-MlNJcSyKhrJ-l9R0GAQ8u5z8mBKGX2jlBByoGotE/s320/n33186_33127606_6213.jpg" border="0" /></a> Finished latrine, a five day effort beause we hit rock like two feet down.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuS2I4azIZ2jv7m_N7SHF6TysAkKpa7LdeaM9szbCBRxBVdvYZvf1i0K_SCEHGAB4k-ckfRmKSsy7KBcT_GsGiUkzphCU47-Q7TFeItLiECMhx0mhA9p81b1-WrFIUgh4NdRiahu1RDfo/s1600-h/n33186_33127604_3228.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110825931417867122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuS2I4azIZ2jv7m_N7SHF6TysAkKpa7LdeaM9szbCBRxBVdvYZvf1i0K_SCEHGAB4k-ckfRmKSsy7KBcT_GsGiUkzphCU47-Q7TFeItLiECMhx0mhA9p81b1-WrFIUgh4NdRiahu1RDfo/s320/n33186_33127604_3228.jpg" border="0" /></a> Almost done.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizmpMqp0tHsrz1XtxHcYOw17_REEJheMvsyE-c3dpQ59XagBAQyu4Rit1YBRUfC7p04mOZCCD8HhfEXDzeV5jOxcVdKJaRfwnQIO-ZiUN4F3XJv7-RBgI1m8X6XzxGYhNAphj1u1GiaUY/s1600-h/n33186_33127589_3566.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110825742439306082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizmpMqp0tHsrz1XtxHcYOw17_REEJheMvsyE-c3dpQ59XagBAQyu4Rit1YBRUfC7p04mOZCCD8HhfEXDzeV5jOxcVdKJaRfwnQIO-ZiUN4F3XJv7-RBgI1m8X6XzxGYhNAphj1u1GiaUY/s320/n33186_33127589_3566.jpg" border="0" /></a> Starting the painting of the outside of the school. Notice how that stick figure on the right is holding a machete...<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9MhBFS_k59iJ4UQY-MWY8YxS-udE71962XSs_0nUoBVvGuyRUHmHrbHBDqUqIqcedxW4iAapgTDmdF6DdOCJH829kh2u_zI8zzukw1ycBx0juCp8UqtpjaPp998XIxsACfvg-v2VUYk/s1600-h/n33186_33127583_5905.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110824234905785170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9MhBFS_k59iJ4UQY-MWY8YxS-udE71962XSs_0nUoBVvGuyRUHmHrbHBDqUqIqcedxW4iAapgTDmdF6DdOCJH829kh2u_zI8zzukw1ycBx0juCp8UqtpjaPp998XIxsACfvg-v2VUYk/s320/n33186_33127583_5905.jpg" border="0" /></a> The kids LOVING the new books from Oak Grove Library</div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6ru5nVgGoE8/Ru1KQjcEU0I/AAAAAAAAAM4/MX3sHZg7lX0/s1600-h/n33186_33127580_1589.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110822800386708290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6ru5nVgGoE8/Ru1KQjcEU0I/AAAAAAAAAM4/MX3sHZg7lX0/s320/n33186_33127580_1589.jpg" border="0" /></a>Sea Bass reading to the kids. He tucked his shirt in for the special occasion.</div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlcfWzRA-xp9c9AKmhxGPIpjq6VYRmknBzlIgNHSHa9gkc5dAs-UYW2ue5ep7bKqIJJvIxsVtu9TglDN9X4r3mi0e5LJqd0F1zihOD3jqm-ATN8oCMRsIGl3dw1WjHSiUZezMjMcgk2M/s1600-h/n33186_33127578_9303.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110822495444030258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlcfWzRA-xp9c9AKmhxGPIpjq6VYRmknBzlIgNHSHa9gkc5dAs-UYW2ue5ep7bKqIJJvIxsVtu9TglDN9X4r3mi0e5LJqd0F1zihOD3jqm-ATN8oCMRsIGl3dw1WjHSiUZezMjMcgk2M/s320/n33186_33127578_9303.jpg" border="0" /></a>Me, showing Juana, the teacher, the different books for the library (and of course, for teaching purposes)<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5gcb6-jOgd4F-PdKIbV4FbGKxquTtPTbjq1XSwPldg9WgJ45rdJh8FqraeMF1auxi2M2q-KyUc8RqgZpVgzrBNUh1KokyXJsYv7UgLtfRT-vQhfOzK3bYFPKyPEG_LImqsi4qfR1o5g/s1600-h/n33186_33127577_7919.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110822319350371106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5gcb6-jOgd4F-PdKIbV4FbGKxquTtPTbjq1XSwPldg9WgJ45rdJh8FqraeMF1auxi2M2q-KyUc8RqgZpVgzrBNUh1KokyXJsYv7UgLtfRT-vQhfOzK3bYFPKyPEG_LImqsi4qfR1o5g/s320/n33186_33127577_7919.jpg" border="0" /></a> Reading to the kiddies...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0UPChO2gV2b4lVTFrvxO1-2vW7ahD1mS-ft6KNrAgqydAHYe__yYhhNKrIEt4jTYGKdQEyMOvNj96afGEgekIGspVvRBGZk5W3qKu2F8jsDO2q9ZT6Gnwtvjthi2X_GqYvSPsQj6wp0U/s1600-h/n33186_33127574_3797.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110822113191940882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0UPChO2gV2b4lVTFrvxO1-2vW7ahD1mS-ft6KNrAgqydAHYe__yYhhNKrIEt4jTYGKdQEyMOvNj96afGEgekIGspVvRBGZk5W3qKu2F8jsDO2q9ZT6Gnwtvjthi2X_GqYvSPsQj6wp0U/s320/n33186_33127574_3797.jpg" border="0" /></a> All in the same class despite age and ethnic differences.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlkNfvBVS_-0xNkzA89JvslMsUozybdJTbHJUHZsbCFrWm0ltoc57-bt9StZKDLhJ3OEXRqTbHvr8bLZ0q0p8vfQeYnJjU0sPzRxg3oCLWhJekhRJlTenjfg8Alth_U57XfqqWpzC-X0/s1600-h/n33186_33127561_6433.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110821876968739586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlkNfvBVS_-0xNkzA89JvslMsUozybdJTbHJUHZsbCFrWm0ltoc57-bt9StZKDLhJ3OEXRqTbHvr8bLZ0q0p8vfQeYnJjU0sPzRxg3oCLWhJekhRJlTenjfg8Alth_U57XfqqWpzC-X0/s320/n33186_33127561_6433.jpg" border="0" /></a> Hahaha... this is one of my favorite pics. Melissa helping dig the latrine hole with John looking on.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6ru5nVgGoE8/Ru1JPzcEUvI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Yg8pR8VcI54/s1600-h/n33186_33127549_1255.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110821687990178546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6ru5nVgGoE8/Ru1JPzcEUvI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Yg8pR8VcI54/s320/n33186_33127549_1255.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />One of the finished bookcases!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-0YXEQ3Hg53rDasGQHM18bwaCY66V4kqoTDGPEpnHOsAxwc2NoP4qjnTLrqEEhTJNrQ3KYNNO9zWBOUxZg5NLAzACVEHSfVn6_VNSTTU0agAMAk3mLX1hdyIaOTMgo4Hpqf4c5Zj4F4/s1600-h/n33186_33127514_7216.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110821443177042658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-0YXEQ3Hg53rDasGQHM18bwaCY66V4kqoTDGPEpnHOsAxwc2NoP4qjnTLrqEEhTJNrQ3KYNNO9zWBOUxZg5NLAzACVEHSfVn6_VNSTTU0agAMAk3mLX1hdyIaOTMgo4Hpqf4c5Zj4F4/s320/n33186_33127514_7216.jpg" border="0" /></a> The almost finished library and all our little helpers!<br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-3494373133124503192007-09-15T13:21:00.001-04:002007-09-15T13:32:25.300-04:00It is so ridiculously hard for me to remember what happened the last few. Oh man. Here it goes. <div><div><div><br /><div>We decided to leave Samana and head towards wherever. We stopped to ask a nice looking lady where we could catch a gua gua. She ended up walking us to the street where the gua guas pass through (gua guas being the vans that are privately owned and serve as cheap methods of transportation), and we started up a pleasant conversation. Somehow, she ended up inviting us to stay at her house in Cacao, and we of course accepted. What a nice lady!</div><br /><div>The crazy thing is, as we were walking with her, a motorcycle crashed literally right in front of our feet. I panicked a little bit, and was the first to get to him. My first instinct was to put something on the wounds, so I whipped out the antiseptic spray and gel and coated the guy who was bleeding from his head, arm, legs... I also relived my memory of crashing a motorcycle, and had my stomach churning with the feeling of lying on the ground, cut and shuddering. What a horrible memory.</div><div><br />Cacao was amazing. Quaint, lovely... a little winding stone town where the lady we were walking with seemingly had family around every corner. After she settled us in and gave us coffee, we realized we had no idea what her name was.</div><div><br />Blanca as it turns out has 7 children, and two of her daughters took us and their daughters to the beach. A wonderful family and greaaat eating... SUCH good food!!!! After swimming in the ocean, they took us to this tropical nook with fresh water to bathe... stuff of dreams. The entire day was magical, and I could not believe places and people like this existed in the real world. Is this the real world? I have no idea.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110483326171632290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWUVcTT_k5M9VNYVIH4JjfRpnnijtFEYO_YN0rpYGp_9-42XXhFGNdTSp5D6i8VNv0YV-mwRhR2rwoKSa3crbzETTSYtYV89jZ-Vr5-0VNGeJLC26SZkrsCw_P2QOB69ihcnRMvnkmpM/s320/Imagen+011.jpg" border="0" /><br />Blanca´s house is a typical Dominican house, but, her kitchen opens up to the most gorgeous view of the ocean, and a direct drop. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110484563122213586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaplx9VXP5YQ9KTxGd9rBVMphofFsOyI_G0JnAwbwGh-fN8tplIw9QSpJdgZFhz2BtIKYT-MggQ7rNpHuFisOaf5H2jzy3unBZQUo8O9il24aZ3KBWGrotWe5HYj-9dnTTgEd4Y6S0L2c/s320/Imagen+020.jpg" border="0" />In the last two days, we learned how to dance bachata, got quite close to our new and dear friends Yiselle, Nairobi, and Yiselle´s kids Cynthia and Christian. They wanted us to stay for a week, but, we had to leave. We exchanged numbers, and promises to see each other again, and soon. I really will miss them. I keep on saying this, and I know, I know, it´s probably getting old, but, what a great great family. What great people, and such hospitality to strangers.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110483712718688946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-w16kXemSCcBtqjktBXqvt9ygsEu4eH0IE5hd4ug8nle0c9Txbrp9UVDsa_4vVFKgYLcu-bcQ5hf3KYhANr6vvNElAqvaNU-l4XwfC_OI9xuKhE9qkeb1aTSlpDlt_OMcmj5mu_ib6FE/s320/Imagen+013.jpg" border="0" />Mairobe with our freshly caught lobster and fish... literally, we walked to the boats where they had just pulled in, and picked out which ones we wanted.<br /><br /><div></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110484052021105346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRXkUxBirdrfevYhQzHNAPL2zjA469RTPqYZEfpY27aMT3azzgT8IHXamYSpbD6coO4MUVhrcqdlmTd3h216nxMOYvEiwJqSxl6nho4tyxkHYTrwtCtMQpV8RXQEv0fmaxJboPRRfl0w4/s320/Imagen+015.jpg" border="0" /><br />Bachata with the sisters!<br /><br /><div>Now, we are in Terrenas. I am starting to realize two things... here, I am as fearless as Í´ll ever fear. I love staying with new found friends, and I am loving grabbing gua guas with no plans and eating whatever with whomever. But, my greatest fear at the same time is going home and being a different person, weighed down to the point where I look back at these blogs, at my journal, at the pictures and think I am a different person. I want to keep this Sara around as long as possible!</div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-23347470293975581542007-09-12T21:06:00.000-04:002007-09-15T13:21:02.958-04:00Cayo Levantado9 am boat ride to La Isla de Cayo Levantado! We followed our¨friend¨and guide Raphael to board a rickety boat to the island. We spent the entire day snorkling, playing some more volleyball, and seeing the craziest fish. There were some that were bright, neon blue, others that looked like pieces of seaweed, and others that looked like they came straight out of finding nemo. Just gorgeous.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110479748463874674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxdiccTmcsHihqLf9YNAHJeY-82lxIvJ1a4wulZzQFxwnKrxPlTIuLKxt5CxiEBN48CnBkzq_NbsPIYCKq3G4nvUoo6I_W2DQis8N3gQjRvobSEomG769otJm_V0tWVmrwdYFLhQp55Q/s320/Imagen+005.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110480401298903682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVUp36rTidQfZfXD6pwk32nIPtfIjP57h4fLb1ECKla0HxfE_oQTpPyyYnvE-rPqHUl132ybYbalYFvE64mA897BXfRn7FP41T7qg1WnVBDDhjkpXKySpb3My4KDOl4kj0nAlZ8BS2CTw/s320/Imagen+006.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div><div><div>There was a little nook on the side of the rocks that had thousands of the most pristine shells in various shades of orange. I´m sad that I can´t bring more back home to give to people, but, it was quite the sight.<br /><br /></div><div>At night, we wanted to see the church that was in front of our hotel that looked like a barn, and happened to walk in when the service was starting. We were given introductions by the pastor, sang some gospel songs, and listened to a sermon on what appeared to be human rights and the Dominican constitution. I think I would like to go to more Spanish services when I get back to the states.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110481874472686226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUe9qPCIX3izQT_p_vNQfCgQFkCvJ2LXw4C0FNiiflnkvfd1gumHCV-ESFZ7CLfiNk2_hXvudMNJxKjHhKjIagKNUcLVBlf_LW7QgZYo6je-EUqFZZJEEpdgQJwkGe3ncs0tEzuAnXegQ/s320/Imagen+008.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-46225623319290730792007-09-11T20:47:00.000-04:002007-09-15T13:06:01.305-04:00Santo Domingo to Samana, our first real adventure.After touring the Zona Colonial with Marino, a good friend from Harvard, seeing the Fortaleza Ozama where Columbus´s son was rumored to have been kept, the Catedral Primada de America (the oldest catedral in the western hemisphere), and walking through the parque colon (although we unfortunately could not enter where Columbus was buried because I was wearing shorts), we decided to pay a visit to a friend of a friend´s friend, Shanna. Here we found an amazing young family, the wife being Shanna, an ex peace core volunteer and proud new mother, and her husband, a Dominican going to school in Santo Domingo. They treated us with an ultimate dinner which was soooo ridiculously good. Such wonderful people in a town full of strangers. We cooked dinner in the dark as there was no power (surprise surprise), but it was a great meal and good company.<br /><div><div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110475092719325746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFvlcuD1htW0lr6UKUChdbPC7SSoa8lGll0uleEbyZZOXW_DvIoH_Z0KkJovEL2hyphenhyphenYan7RmOA9IzkFQMMcxCV1SuekMhzqA15xYKjX2lhc78xFOod7kwb0ZkKRK7w079Pc3VA8pzGxeI/s320/Imagen+001.jpg" border="0" />Me and Marino at the Fortaleza<br /></p><div>Unfortunately, while roaming the streets of SD, I had to unload the monster in the middle of the street next to a highway. The monster is HEAVY, and I decided that I was carrying waaay too much extra superflous stuff like pants and shampoo. My load considerably lighter, we carried on.</div><br /><p>-----------------------</p><p>After spending the night at Senor Don Nelsons (really, the name says it all), we embarked on our first real adventure, to the city of Samana. It doesn´t sound likea big deal to transfer busses and head only five hours north, but, getting anywhere here is always quite the ordeal. We made it to the first bus stop on our first try, in a relatively nice gua gua where we had just enough room to wiggle our feet if we so desired. The remarkable part is we made it on our first try, so, no complaints there.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110476647497486930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuDzSwu8SWnGqTRtdytsZ0QrDdCWB16NJnphk4uPM_S_R9qgs9eSgem84trtLPi3T_14CPK1XFGQhV7i1Ny3iuydHeuGp4DrQ8BaKxDmbkgQ47rheFdG3e1MM3D8x18x6Tf9LT0RFqd8k/s320/Imagen+002.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>The transfer was little harder. We got off at bus stop number 9 which ended up being the wrong stop. Joe and I walked to the next stop, and arrived at 950, just in time to catch the 10 bus. We waited with the soothing sounds of a generator and bachata in the background. We finally made it, and are currently in Samana! </p><p>Samana is the coolest little town. The buildings look like lego pieces stuck on the sides of the hill, and literally, the streets are built on top of one another connected by long stairways. The people are the friendlist that I have ever met, and when I approached a lady to ask for directions, she kissed me on both sides of the cheeks! Me, a perfect stranger!</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110477502195978850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcVpi0YK53qHzxp3gu5JWk_wUYHEGevn0yfMtNaNOhSDSzELbhcYFZIrQ-VwExzdN_sq7oiqvxObtFEsq-f6uW7XYWKXJ1sjTX72Xfptj5bC9ChkgcTLitpVTLTHNUG0FBzP3Osx0xb3c/s320/Imagen+019.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110475900173177410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9CDaD1Ra6Gs9xiK3VdBIuz64s_WqTYglj_e0G9jmqH91LQELn-dioAS9X9-iORQShXnnWxxL-A-9g3Rtnx-BIqyfabaKhEjiwlBGoE7gccf5u6Xz0VDPtilI5bijVAhxNOwLQorsV4s/s320/Imagen+018.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p>We ended up at a casino where I promptly lost all of my money and vowed never to go back. Joe won 5 dollars and was pretty happy about that, but, I really do not want to gamble again ever.</p></div></div><br /><p>At night, we played an intense game of volleyball, five on five with 8 big guys. Although there was a crowd of people waiting a turn to play, they put us right in the game, and Joe got a few spikes in before it got too dark to see.</p><p>Great town, great people, and the days keep getting better and better.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-19764149839045914572007-09-10T15:07:00.000-04:002007-09-16T11:45:42.253-04:00Breaking all the rules alreadyThe volunteers have left, and though I miss them terribly, Joe and I are just having a blast already. The one bad thing about the volunteers leaving is, it seems like they took all our rationality along with them back to the states! Today has been a day of breaking all the rules of travel, and I´m so glad that Joe is here to egg me on.<br /><br />For starters, we decided to wander around, and ended up in one of the strangest plazas I have ever seen. Granted, I have not been in many plazas in my lifetime, but, this one was exceptionally bizarre. It had benches stacked on top of each other in the middle underneath a great big black statue of Gomez. It was deserted, and seemingly had no purpose as there was nowhere to sit, nor anything to see. Below it was another nicer plaza, and a building next to it that had its doors thrown wide open. We decided to wander in, and saw a nice, big room with chairs set up like a classroom. We assumed it was an extension of the Santiago Technology University that was across the street, but were bewildered when we asked the guard and he ushered us to two seats in front of a great big official desk. We sat down, a bit nervously, after all, we didn´t exactly come to get consulted or anything. Then, a bubbly man strode out to the desk, and began talking to us. And talking to us. Joe did his trademark nod and smile, and I was able surprisingly to understand almost all of what he said, and what´s more, to talk right back to him. An hour later finds us still conversing with this incredible man who has walked from Santo Domingo into Haiti, the length of Puerto Rico, and from Miami to New York. He is the right hand man of a senator it turns out, a lawyer, and a devoted emissary of love, peace, and solidarity. We had to regretfully leave to meet Marino, a friend of mine from Harvard who lives in Santo Domingo, but, before we left, Angel offered us a place to stay that night.<br /><br />We went to the Colonial Zone with Marino afterwards. Then, in a thunderstorm with HUGE bullets of rain and lightening all around, we had to make a decision. Either we hop on a bus and head to god knows where to stay dry and begin our adventure there, or, we head back to the plaza.<br /><br />Well, let me just say, in twenty minutes, we are meeting Angel to stay the night at his house. Absolutely amazing. His hospitality, his good nature, and his dedication to solidarity are things that I admire so much, and am abolutely thankful for.<br /><br />So, the adventures begin with a stay in a stranger´s house, and a great meal that he promises us as soon as we get there.<br /><br />Plans for the rest of the trip? Meh... haven´t really got any. I think we will get on a bus tomorrow in the general direction of North, but, we´ll see. Wish us luck!<br /><br />Much love,<br />SaraUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-65032036091582426912007-09-08T21:19:00.000-04:002007-09-08T21:46:36.075-04:00So much to say but so little time to say it!Sorry for the lack of posts on this volunteer trip portion of The Great Adventure. I´ve been writing in my journal hoping to have some time to translate that onto this blog, but alas, the last few times I´ve tried to use the internet, the power has gone out five minutes in. Oh the Dominican Republic!<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Before I transcribe my journal entries here, let me just say briefly that this has been one of the greatest experiences of my life, and it´s not even halfway over. Sure, I woke up with two cockroaches on me... sure, we now consider a good bathroom to a) be enclosed with a hole b) flush c) be light enough to see... and sure, I have a blister from using the machete to clear the land by the latrine, but, we have also successfully built the school latrine, painted and restored the library, built bookshelves for the books to be put in Oak Grove Library (courtesy of the amazing folks up at Oak Grove), taken 13 infants and mothers to get vaccinations and medication for vomiting and diharrea, painted the school, etc. etc. the list goes on. Our volunteers are an aboslutely hardy bunch, not deterred by the bajillion mosquitoes or being slapped in the face by poverty. On the contrary, we´ve all made fast friends with the children and parents, and it was a sad sad thing to say goodbye this morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>We´ve been so blessed... it´s been a fruitful, productive, and memorable trip. I am now officially a godmother of Milka, the daughter of a friend and Haitian sharecropper who we eat and spend time with, Michele, and once again rejuvenated by the awe inspiring work of God. </div><div> </div><div>These pictures are not mine, but, I promised some pics so here we go.<br /></div><div>Taken from one of the volunteer´s cameraÑ</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108011735304777554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6ChvSgZ5uYFvFTqLLC4Tnclzq-kiF1MVEFcuUlZjZZLSzhgkVaPtIYDUe5V9HDrsJyUPf9q4r6dXpEEVNOUYV3VrODP0YwMFCf5TcXPEfO_NVUTY6VD6cGErNun9RyK2Y0g3jWXNDcU/s320/b.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>Our fearless volunteers!!!!!!!!!!! AMAZING folk who gave up 12 days to help out the DR Schools Project. From the left, me, John, Jenny, Melissa, Joe, and Linda. The Seabass is not pictured unfortunately (I had limited photos to choose from)</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108012130441768802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZoyDX9dSbmja6_zT7wbox4vSnG-3k_eB-zQPkja_oDvXS8_4vb3jh_6jkcFGV7H5UlIArYsMuQsrwmpVzGatKKzNwt61BX90UygBgZ6kPLHjZ6ZPw_IxTw40OyjHhlcs0zBUkwUbqt4/s320/c.jpg" border="0" />Walking to Estella´s house, the home of a Haitian sharecropping family. They pay for agrochemicals, the seed, and of course the labor to produce a crop to sell at market day, however, under the unfair sharecroppnig system of the DR, have to give up half of their profit at the end of the day to a Dominican landlord. Sebastian and I microfinanced Estella´s family so that they can begin a small corner grocery store. <br /><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108010408159882946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JqlY5Mj9LPQJ-XUENCtq7QNJXb9xWQMQFnI1oo04tB-g9IE5D57iVqsc4jTZ4BBiUJgQQ_BpHo099vqulytCFb53M3yVtj2xG_MvStfUDQCXEK8cFvy0m7E8aMCYB6FvQPgek0U0OBM/s320/n2103186_30893979_9104.jpg" border="0" />At Market day where Estella and other families sell their produce and whatnot. I´m holding a stick of sugar cane. Market day is when the border between the DR and Haiti is open to facilitate trade, however, it can be a dangerous place because of the national tensions... a man was stabbed fairly recently, so market day was at maybe a quarter capacity. We stuck out like sore thumbs.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Below, because I can´t get the formatting right, is some of Roznie´s food. We ate every day at Roznie and Michele´s place, a house that was purchased by Sebastian, my co-director. Sebastian has been going back and forth to the DR for 10 years, and in his travels met Michele and Roznie, living on dirt floors in inhumane conditions. He bought them a house and pays them a monthly stipend in exchange for all of their children going to school everyday. Those same children are the ones who are the BEST in school, and I am Milka, the infant´s, godmother.</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108011404592295730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihjEbm57xx4V1xd3Mvm4rgI5yjZaTRSA_CVaxcYC1stxfEJaZED158kcxFDYOysTNLctgc7deIpn0r6kGfmDU_FILaGEyrvO7z8PpSkLYYq9IjEOjD3GB-kIuiZr72ZpI57JrBbmkO0qE/s320/aaa.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>The school!! The books were a HUUUUGE success, and I taught the kids how to play perro perro gato (dog dog cat because I forgot the names for geese and duck) as well as ultimate frisbee and gongi.</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108011653700398914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7HpiMTp1ITPWsmrd85TgFuqEew8gCfsKLLTjWGSSEPNxtF67_KLnki74wxUpGxs3Db9hBcNdJBC1s6Cm-fNUJUnaiS6FcwuibJauVSPhJTw8drgmU6RRrL88oPUHa5fmqiG1xRy-3uqA/s320/aaaa.jpg" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div>Jenny and me trying unsuccessfullly to grab some guavas from the tree. The kids made it look easy!</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108010545598836450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinrTpohbXNufZkoH_1kGFfPFm4nLUIU67Y0pWipXIpBieyu0HMxUlzxKoBQy08a2RYOZ_ilId8nKIl9ZvEQS5IAC5IV6Q_7beQiVnGP_w6aBbViaeNZ-6dR6Cz28VM-itgeW0lDblyB1Y/s320/n2103186_30894017_3171.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>Jenny and me again. Behind us is Haiti where we purchased the most delicious empanadas you can find ANYWHERE. MAN, those were good.</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108010481174326994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixyvJQhKj7tk3RGIzK6Ps8_UV7zfQaiCnufMO-YMNficJjSaj-FL9xJ8HdnmCGjk3lIAbAkZ6uocab14jdl2y8Hvhz6uJ1cE9ixxY70blMP3FGVq3mlVQoOnq1TKYC0ifkuw3aKbiJk9k/s320/n2103186_30893992_2388.jpg" border="0" />The pristine and unused DR beaches are absolutely gorgeous. This isnt exactly a tourist destination, so we were quite alone when we took Michele´s family to the beach. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108010601433411314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIqyqzbZKJVNiUoDqcRSHQNTADmnqSvZXo4hTiRc_BwibecFwd_eNWibIN3EtDFB09T_R8IpuhZE4jp45_WfYaKT-QFQycNSFLkvCnfq9_Ma410dfXiC8IcM9_AbsIUpG2RWokdUGlfA/s320/n2103186_30894034_5503.jpg" border="0" /><br />Jump!!!!!!!! Meliss and I.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108010846246547234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhvgzsIyZFj7_cdbJrDdUsl1TV1P2xW3AvWnIR0fZBMT-9qXwfnWZlHqyWRAuKGj5vHqPQQYkmO4l0q1Oh6xKa4XQu3Q25yue8y1ul2tvUkeHwDu9GasrTNkefResl0fUWlUgsmRrokZ8/s320/aa.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108010665857920770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNTVjUz70wpqTKNbIjCnkIqJI29HeNIAfonxTU1jauH6vbnFIK0wepOfCMcPgBoBoH_yIh64jS-zNzbpgwGNJeSJkZrQlCvPM_RzZ5Op07JxbHVWFwdj0liExqKgXMymebqt0FT0kGyw/s320/n2103186_30894043_7847.jpg" border="0" /> Poor Jeremy was so confused when we told him to lay down and began burying him with sand!!!</div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108010730282430226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUTB6HGz121v_KnMbOjwSZSJA-BMWkQv2WB4iSrjnWoZxdatPMsKh26ek-se3NH3zZIrhymj7Fdno2VYhTdt-lxYxf-nDRWI_ICz3BX3AuBg9bITr1PlHO3Mit0D2gf8WtV1kVFZKF8s/s320/n2103186_30894044_8109.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p>Jeremy up close (michele and Roznie´s son)</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The volunteer portion is over and the volunteers are leavng tomorrow. I will miss them, but, Joe and I are going to have just the greatest adventure, I´m sure!</p><p>Much love and un abrazo,</p><p>Sarrrrrrrrita</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-70672152734921034602007-08-31T19:05:00.000-04:002007-09-10T15:06:51.221-04:00The Early BirdTranscribed from my journalÑ<br /><br />The moral of this story is the early bird is pretty much the smartest creature around. This morning seems like ages ago, and it´s only 7pm!<br /><br />After our second day in the DR, a day packed with our first meal with Michele´s family, a visit to a good friend Estella, and, of course, a trip to El Mogote Elementary, we have now established several things for the trip. The first is, mosquito repellant is pretty much akin to toilet paper. Yoú don´t NEED it, but it sure is good to have it handy at all times! John and I are currently competing for who will get malaria first, and I am sorry to say that he is winning. The second is, Estella´s house is a good hike away. Somehow, I always forget how far away it is! Maybe a quarter mile into the jungle of half ¨cultivated¨ land, and half pure wilderness leads to Estella and Laeice´s house, a shack on the iron infused dirt. Their children are some of the sweetest children I have ever met. When I passed around candy, I decided not to give the infant any because I assumed, incorrectly, that she wouldn´t eat any. When I didn´t give her any, her older sister who was holding her took her piece of candy, bit it in half, and fed her little sister the other half. Absolutely amazing. Keep in mind, this girl is not an older sister by very much. It´s common t0 see girls of 6 or 7 taking care of the infants thus prohibiting them from going to school. The third established thing of the tirp is Raca Raca Raca Chu Chua time! In the precious Urvan on the way back from Sitio Nuevo, John and I decided to open up the book carton and read aloud from a book about a train. It was great, and we have since established Chu Chua time at night whereby we can go over highs and lows, and discuss some of the things we have noticed-seen.<br /><br />Renewed by the loveliness of the DR, I then proceeded to toss and turn in my bed for a full hour, cautiously wrapped like an overstuffed burrito in my mosquito repellant coated bed sheet. I then dozed off in a restless half sleep to wake at three am. Perfect. I stumbled intot he bathroom, turned on the light, and... there was a cockroach. On my shoulder. And another one. On my arm.<br /><br />After this, I simply did not go to sleep. I sat on the bed for a little bit, but, I was afraid of waking my two roommates, so I decided to creep downstairs and wait for the others to arise. I chatted with the guard for a bit, and, at five thirty, left for the Haitian DR market a short car ride away.<br /><br />The market is a time when the borders are opened to facilitate trade betweent he two nations. There were disputes about prices, a hefty chain linked fence closing off Haiti, and vendors working deals out all around us. The market was only about about a quarter capacity, but it was still a lot for us gringos to see. The funny part is, there was a small chain that closed off the only road to Haiti fromt he DR side. As I approached it with Jenny, we thought certainly the armed guards would stop us, demand to see passports, etc., especially since one guy with a shotgun was fast approaching us without a smile in sight. But, no, when we reached the chain, the man wordlessly lifted it so that we could pass under it easier. Brilliant.<br /><br />The rest of the day flew by with errands, buying machetes, purchasing two live chickens, and beginnign painting the library. Some of my favorite quotes came from our car rides up to El Mogote. ¨Oh, you can just toss my machete aside if you want to sit down.¨ ´Has anyone seen my pineapple_¨ ¨The chicken just flopped on my foot!¨<br /><br />The children were absolutely amazing. I have to go soon for dinner, but, I just have to say that the children were so adorable and generous iwth everything. We seemingly didn´t have enough brushes for all the hands that wanted to help, and help they most certainly did. The end of the day found Hogie, a three year old, with paint on his face and head, and all the chidlren grinning and splattered witht he rosy turquoise that the shcool is painted in. One child, Tony, an impish little boy full of mischief, got a little carried away as the four trees around the library will attest to, but, it was good fun, and I loved every second of it. It was another day of firsts... the first day that I had fruit picked right from the tree above me, the first time I ate a green orange, the first time I ever saw somebody scale a tree that seemed to just go straight up... a beautiful and wonderfully long day indeed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815066825710187861.post-37293417957170087272007-08-30T18:40:00.001-04:002007-08-30T18:44:55.128-04:00Great Success!I am currently typing in an internet cafe in Pedernales, RD!! (Republica Dominicana). 6 volunteers and I arrived yesterday to Santo Domingo, the capital, and we have been busy... sleeping in the car. It was a 6 hour trip from SD to Pedernales, and 30 minutes from Pedernales to Las Mercedes. From Las Mercedes, it was another trip to El Mogote where the school is.<br /><br />The power just went out... nope, now it{s back on... and now it{s out again.<br /><br />Oh DR!<br /><br />I just wanted to say that we all made it safely )although Jenny, John, Sebastian, linda, and joe almost didn{t make the plane) and though we{re dirty, we{re happy! I{m so excited for what this trip has in store, and we have a fabulous group of volunteers so we{re all set Ñ=? That was supposed to be a smiley face, but, I haven{t quite mastered this spanish keyboard yet...<br /><br />SaraUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1