Suwon and Halmoni

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!

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.

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.

최세라 (Choi Sa Ra). Hm... maybe the tongue rule made sense back then.

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.

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)

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.

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.

Worth it!

Pictures:

View from the top of Seoul

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!!

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.

So, in a nutshell, some of the missing pieces go like this:

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.

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.

Korean traffic

Me being a tourist in ancient admiral clothes

The war museum. On the left are flags from all the nations that participated in some way in the Koraen War

My ridiculous cousins behaving ridiculously! The small one on the right is CRAZY. She would not stop singing "DOMO ORIGATO MR. ROBOTO"!!

Cousins and dad's mom's brother's wife on the right :)

Hwasong

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!

Therefore:

Waistband 10; Family history 10!

It could be worse :)

Trying to update as much as possible

Coincidentally, 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:

"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. "

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.

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.

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 :)

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!

Besos, erm, popos!
Sara

Mommy?

I cried through half of dinner last night. Backtrack...

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

First 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!


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.

Parking, Korean style by driving onto a metal rack ala Wall-E.

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 BUCKS GUY 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.

My family! My cousin on the left, my two uncles, me, my other cousin, and her husband :) Again, check out the mad panchan!

Poor girls trying to get people to buy skin care products... This is where stereotypes are born.

Shopping with the multitudes in Myong Dong

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

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.

Dog meat soup: The only reason why we look so happy is because we didn't try it yet.

DOG HAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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!

Korean palace

Oh Disney... iRiver came out with Disney inspired mp3 players that are apparently all the rage.

View from my Uncle's house where I am staying (in Seoul).

It finally stopped raining, too, so, I think I can safely put the score at Mosquitoes: 2, Rain: 0, Sara:1

Lots of love, more pics later, I have to goooo

Jee Hee

South Korea, Day 1

So, 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.

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).

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.

*Note to future Sara: insert picture of Changdeokgung here. I forgot my camera cord at home*

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.

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 :)

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.

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.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I spit it out, and my cousin and I examined it:

*insert picture of disgusting dog hair*

As you can tell from the picture, the dog was clearly light brown in color.

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.

Day one:

Dog: 1, Muggy, raining weather: 1, Sara: 0

Home sweet sweet sweet home (from the Dominican Republic)

TOUCHDOWN!!

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.

In anticipation of leaving the DR, Joe and I managed to cram in a visit to the Brugal factory,

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,"

and of course, plenty of walks through the streets of Puerto Plata, one of my favorite cities to stay in by far.

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.

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.

With a goodbye to one of my favorite hostels that we stayed in,

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).

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.

^ 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.

^ I miss this boy so much already!

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.

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

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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!

27 waterfalls, one day

First 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.

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.

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.

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.

Los Viente Siete Charcos everybody... tell your friends!

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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.

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.

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...