2.16.2007
The Reverse Missionary: it's not what you think
Recently I have been assaulted by Korean women, seemingly kind and eager to make an English speaking friend. Only I quickly realize, they are missionaries for the church of the Heavenly mother. Now in my mind, missionaries are traditionally foreigners working to build religious communities around the world by preaching their ideologies in the language of that particular country. But thanks to a strong history of missionary work in Korea, I am being "reverse missionaried" and I don't like it one bit. Is it payback for all the Mormons in town? And if so, why do I have to bare the brunt of the missionary competition. Maybe if I told them i lived at the motel orange, they would let me be. Does it not seem odd that in a non English speaking country this organization trains it's missionaries in English only to solicit foreigner membership to their parish? What's more, I attempt to be friendly and create good cultural relations as the cultural ambassador that I am, but who wants to be friendly with the Korean version of Jehovah witnesses harassing you at your doorstep? A challenge indeed.
2.15.2007
Yoegwan Tour Y2k7
526 hours gallivanting across the Korean peninsula, making our way south-proved quite an interesting adventure. An endeavor entitled, Yoegwan Tour Y2k7, in addition to seeing the sights, Alex Page and myself set out in search of the best yeogwan in the country.
What exactly is a yeogwan and what's all the hype? Korean Yeogwan culture is quite taboo. Love motels as they are frequently called provide a space for young couples to escape the confines of living with parents or strict dorms well into you adulthood. In turn, yeogwans provide a plethora of options regarding sleeping arrangements: 1 hour, 1 night, circular beds, themed rooms, black lights, and personal hygiene kits available for 50 cents at the front desk. Nestled in the back alleys of all Korean cities and towns, the neon glow of establishments with names such as motel Eros and motel paradise, guide lovers down a heathenish path of lust and debauchery. Needless to say, I have never seen a Korean couple enter such an establishment with a bag of any sort. But every couple that stands awkwardly next to me in the elevator, I feel compelled to say-"I know what you did don't think the rubber curtains which hide the license plate of your car trick me."
It is important to recognize though, for the traditional budget traveler, these yeogwans are in fact the most humble of accommodations for the most reasonable price. And so we set out, in hopes of finding the most absurd of accommodations at a good rate. What we quickly realized though, was the fact that our budget did not provide a space for the type of accommodations we were looking for; personal noribang etc.
However, Motel Zen in Daegu proved to be our top choice amidst a slue of similarly priced establishments. In addition to the lovely decor-modern and hip, the hot tub and full massage shower with radio/CD player inside made me reminiscent of our luxurious Bali bathroom.
Motel Windmill in Gwanjgu caught our attention immediately. Who could ignore a larger than life neon windmill on the side of a 10 story building. Easy to find and circular chimdays! Amazingly, amidst the quest we only stumbled across one circular bed-somewhat surprising since lonely planet made them seem so normal. Once again, it must have been a mater of budget.
The medieval themed tour took a backseat to central locations, though the number of motel queens/princess/prince/castle make the task an easy undertaking for anyone looking for a fun quest. Motel Carib, the castle motel in Chuncheon, entertained our desires to over quote Borat as much as possible-"king of the castle king of the castle."
Motel Paradise in Seoul, seemed to have an American movie classics theme to it. That is until we entered our room. The room was on the tenth floor, in actuality the attic of the establishment as the elevator didn't even climb to this floor. We enter a room nostalgic of a 14 year old's bedroom; complimentary large gorilla stuffed bear and all. It made me feel uncomfortable, one that we are fetishizing 14 year old's bedrooms, and that the concierge, or whatever you would call such an individual who mans the check in desk, would assume such a room would appeal to our tastes. Perhaps more, was the frosted glass bathroom door-classy in most situations, when they don't have an airbrushed picture of a topless Korean girl seductively posing for the camera. Either way, we were rarely in this room, with the exception of an hour midday, which consisted of Alex watching a piss poor Kurt Russell action flick. MISERABLE.
Most yeogwans are not very accommodating to the actual traveler. For example the seemingly amazing Motel NuNu, charges an extra 20 dollars for anyone checking in before 10 pm. And, weekends are always extra. Some yeogwans like to capitalize on their one hour market, and therefore make travelers check out for the day and come back in the evening. I know lockers are available in the subway, but the last thing I am interested in doing is lugging a heavy pack around with hopes of finding storage for the day.
Motel Prince in Sinchon Seoul, has been by far the most accommodating, allowing bag storage for the day, helping me tekbay-ship bags, and in general being quite friendly.
Motel Vision 21 in Pusan, arguably the hardest motel to find ever despite it's central location, provided us with mood lighting that could make anyone go blind. Though it was better than Motel Enhasu in Daegu. A Yeogwan cited as the best by lonely planet, was dirty, lacked the variety of TV channels and has a malfunctioning USB port on the computer-completely unacceptable for a 25 dollar accommodation. I was terrified by the bathroom. Although I desperately craved a shower, I thought I might come out dirtier than when I entered and opted to postpone the endeavor until we found better accommodations.
Motel Theme in Seoul, and Motel Cello in Pusan were unworthy of noting really. Both were clean, but in no way entertaining. I think I did most of my job applications at these establishments because they provided no entertainment, bland, lacking black lighting, and certainly no circular beds. Though if I recall, the juice box selection was decent in both locations.
And who could forget the ship yeogwan. Let's just say while embarking on the final leg of our journey back towards Jeju, the mokpo ferry provides space for it's passangers to rest. A public yeogwan if you will. I found myself in the midst of an ajuma slumber party. I think they might have been the group of people drinking before getting on the 9 am ship. Morning alcohol binges are sure to put old women to sleep.
At the suggestion of friends, we checked out motel orange in Jeju. A fitting name for an island known for it's citrus production. Though I must digress for a moment and pose the question why a province famous for oranges groves, does not produce ORANGE JUICE? There is a market waiting to be penetrated and I feel like I could make some money making jeju famous orange juice. The accommodations were lovely, and the rules posted in the lobby even more entertaining. Rule number 5 clearly stated: "Minors (under 19 years old), even if they are with adults, should not share a bed with members of the opposite gender because it may corrupt public morals". At least Jeju holds itself to high standards, upholding morals, even in it's corrupt yeogwan
districts.
All in all, Motel Zen wins. Best all around. Even the ajumas running the place were friendly. Though they always seem so innoncent, considering they are contributing to the currption of family values and morals all around.
What exactly is a yeogwan and what's all the hype? Korean Yeogwan culture is quite taboo. Love motels as they are frequently called provide a space for young couples to escape the confines of living with parents or strict dorms well into you adulthood. In turn, yeogwans provide a plethora of options regarding sleeping arrangements: 1 hour, 1 night, circular beds, themed rooms, black lights, and personal hygiene kits available for 50 cents at the front desk. Nestled in the back alleys of all Korean cities and towns, the neon glow of establishments with names such as motel Eros and motel paradise, guide lovers down a heathenish path of lust and debauchery. Needless to say, I have never seen a Korean couple enter such an establishment with a bag of any sort. But every couple that stands awkwardly next to me in the elevator, I feel compelled to say-"I know what you did don't think the rubber curtains which hide the license plate of your car trick me."
It is important to recognize though, for the traditional budget traveler, these yeogwans are in fact the most humble of accommodations for the most reasonable price. And so we set out, in hopes of finding the most absurd of accommodations at a good rate. What we quickly realized though, was the fact that our budget did not provide a space for the type of accommodations we were looking for; personal noribang etc.
However, Motel Zen in Daegu proved to be our top choice amidst a slue of similarly priced establishments. In addition to the lovely decor-modern and hip, the hot tub and full massage shower with radio/CD player inside made me reminiscent of our luxurious Bali bathroom.
Motel Windmill in Gwanjgu caught our attention immediately. Who could ignore a larger than life neon windmill on the side of a 10 story building. Easy to find and circular chimdays! Amazingly, amidst the quest we only stumbled across one circular bed-somewhat surprising since lonely planet made them seem so normal. Once again, it must have been a mater of budget.
The medieval themed tour took a backseat to central locations, though the number of motel queens/princess/prince/castle make the task an easy undertaking for anyone looking for a fun quest. Motel Carib, the castle motel in Chuncheon, entertained our desires to over quote Borat as much as possible-"king of the castle king of the castle."
Motel Paradise in Seoul, seemed to have an American movie classics theme to it. That is until we entered our room. The room was on the tenth floor, in actuality the attic of the establishment as the elevator didn't even climb to this floor. We enter a room nostalgic of a 14 year old's bedroom; complimentary large gorilla stuffed bear and all. It made me feel uncomfortable, one that we are fetishizing 14 year old's bedrooms, and that the concierge, or whatever you would call such an individual who mans the check in desk, would assume such a room would appeal to our tastes. Perhaps more, was the frosted glass bathroom door-classy in most situations, when they don't have an airbrushed picture of a topless Korean girl seductively posing for the camera. Either way, we were rarely in this room, with the exception of an hour midday, which consisted of Alex watching a piss poor Kurt Russell action flick. MISERABLE.
Most yeogwans are not very accommodating to the actual traveler. For example the seemingly amazing Motel NuNu, charges an extra 20 dollars for anyone checking in before 10 pm. And, weekends are always extra. Some yeogwans like to capitalize on their one hour market, and therefore make travelers check out for the day and come back in the evening. I know lockers are available in the subway, but the last thing I am interested in doing is lugging a heavy pack around with hopes of finding storage for the day.
Motel Prince in Sinchon Seoul, has been by far the most accommodating, allowing bag storage for the day, helping me tekbay-ship bags, and in general being quite friendly.
Motel Vision 21 in Pusan, arguably the hardest motel to find ever despite it's central location, provided us with mood lighting that could make anyone go blind. Though it was better than Motel Enhasu in Daegu. A Yeogwan cited as the best by lonely planet, was dirty, lacked the variety of TV channels and has a malfunctioning USB port on the computer-completely unacceptable for a 25 dollar accommodation. I was terrified by the bathroom. Although I desperately craved a shower, I thought I might come out dirtier than when I entered and opted to postpone the endeavor until we found better accommodations.
Motel Theme in Seoul, and Motel Cello in Pusan were unworthy of noting really. Both were clean, but in no way entertaining. I think I did most of my job applications at these establishments because they provided no entertainment, bland, lacking black lighting, and certainly no circular beds. Though if I recall, the juice box selection was decent in both locations.
And who could forget the ship yeogwan. Let's just say while embarking on the final leg of our journey back towards Jeju, the mokpo ferry provides space for it's passangers to rest. A public yeogwan if you will. I found myself in the midst of an ajuma slumber party. I think they might have been the group of people drinking before getting on the 9 am ship. Morning alcohol binges are sure to put old women to sleep.
At the suggestion of friends, we checked out motel orange in Jeju. A fitting name for an island known for it's citrus production. Though I must digress for a moment and pose the question why a province famous for oranges groves, does not produce ORANGE JUICE? There is a market waiting to be penetrated and I feel like I could make some money making jeju famous orange juice. The accommodations were lovely, and the rules posted in the lobby even more entertaining. Rule number 5 clearly stated: "Minors (under 19 years old), even if they are with adults, should not share a bed with members of the opposite gender because it may corrupt public morals". At least Jeju holds itself to high standards, upholding morals, even in it's corrupt yeogwan
districts.
All in all, Motel Zen wins. Best all around. Even the ajumas running the place were friendly. Though they always seem so innoncent, considering they are contributing to the currption of family values and morals all around.
2.12.2007
Transcending Terrorist Threats-Tackling Bali
Imagine the 14th season of the Real World is about to premiere. This year’s location: The Real World Bali. It’s the scene we’ve all seen before-7 individuals in their mid 20’s vying for the best spot in the house. Running around like children at an amusement park, not exactly sure which stop to make first. Then imagine Fulbrighters with the addition of the amazing Edwin Shaw at the Emerald Sunset villa. All coming from different places, the states, Bangkok, the Malaysian jungle, strategizing on room selection and in awe of the amazing ping pong table soon to be put into use. Meeting back up for the first time in months, words were a bit hard to get out since our jaws were to the ground in awe of our infinity pool and full staff (yes including a pool boy). We were greeted with finger sandwiches, and freshly squeezed orange juice. We were to live like kings for a week.
Following a set of appetizers prepared by Made, our new friend who happened to be our personal chef for the week, we wandered down the road leading straight to the unpopulated beach. Quite a sight to be seen, bali is known for its picturesque sunsets. Within 2 hours, I quickly realized that this experience will probably never fall into my lap again…ever. That is until our 10 year reunion.
Swimming, ping pong, good tunes, even better company, encompasses everything we had envisioned for balli to bali. Yoga and qi gong,with an abdominal workout for the books-a fine way to start the morning. I arrived pack strapped to my back, living for a month with clothes strewn on guesthouse floors, to find my clothes hung nicely in our luxurious closet. If only I had that type of assistance at Kangwan University.
We opted out of a snorkeling trip, and instead set out to expose me to one of the most famous activities in Bali. That’s right I went surfing, and my quest to move westward has only been strengthened since doing so. Though from what I hear, the Cali beaches might be hard to compete with arguably the best surfing in the world. With what one could call “couples rashgaurds” Alex and I set out in neon blue and pink tops. Even though I grew up on the ocean, spent summers fighting the strong currents and waves on the vineyard, I have always been fearless of the water. But when there is an 8-foot board attached to you, and you’re taken under, it’s a whole new experience. After regrouping, and letting Alex actually surf for real, we set back out. And though they were baby waves, I stood on my first real attempt for a decent 5 seconds. More than I could have ever imagined possible. Needless to say, I have a new hobby to pursue and will do so in Jeju and in Cali.
When I say we set out to go surfing, I literally mean set out on a journey. A journey that exposed us to the good, the bad and the ugly of Bali. Unable to find a place to rent some boards, we were forced to walk south towards kuta and legion. The beaches where we were located in Canngu were absolutely beautiful and even the touristy destination of Kuta beach was impeccable. So it was much to our surprise when we stumbled upon what could have been Bali municipal waste management center. Amidst a beautiful walk along the ocean, we had to stop dead in our tracks and look at the trash around us. I have never seen so much pollution in my life. We couldn’t walk around it because there was too much. What was more absurd is that resort patrons, just found the clean spots and settled in amidst the garbage. If I were to have had accommodations at one of these resorts, I would have left Bali more infuriated than I was just walking through it. There was garbage on the beach and in the ocean. It is a scene I never want to think about again. EVER.
The beaches near us were beautiful but occasionally the tide got strong.
The waves were strong and so Kate, with her maternal instincts, or perhaps plain logic, instated a no drunken ocean swimming policy. We also instated a no drunken balcony jumping policy rule as the thought had crossed our minds a few times while sober.
Other wonders of bali were the jewelry vendors. Oh the jewelry vendors, stores lined with necklace after necklace, big and chunky, brightly colored, beautiful necklaces. I couldn’t get enough of it. I bargained the man down and found myself very happy with a pile of new gems to add to my collection.
Following a week of indulgence and luxurious living, we packed our bags and bounced to the airport. It was difficult to see our friends off, just about to start their travels in S.E. Asia while ours had come to an end, but I was excited for them nonetheless. We dropped our bags at a baggage storage place. The worst idea masked as the best idea. In a country where “terrorism is imminent” why would you have an unsecure luggage storage in the central part of the airport? Sort of trumps the idea of never leave your bags unattended. We bounced around Kuta for the last time before heading out. The heat was so exhausting; it reminded me of summer days at Kangwan University. Where I was too hot to get to the post office because walking was so tasking.
I arrived home in Korea with a pain in my stomach and knew before I got off the plane something was not right. Nonetheless, I lied on my health quarantine document with fear of what would happen otherwise. When I look back, perhaps they could have been of more help than wikipedia. Anyhow, what it comes down to is that while traveling I came down with an annoyance of a thing, called a parasite. Needless to say, I was down and out for a bit. In fact I still haven’t fully recovered. The reproduction cycle is certainly a wonder.
Though it was somewhat anticlimactic to embark on a cross-country trip in Korea post wild south East Asian adventures, we tackled it with stride and yoegwan tour 2007 was certainly entertaining.
Following a set of appetizers prepared by Made, our new friend who happened to be our personal chef for the week, we wandered down the road leading straight to the unpopulated beach. Quite a sight to be seen, bali is known for its picturesque sunsets. Within 2 hours, I quickly realized that this experience will probably never fall into my lap again…ever. That is until our 10 year reunion.
Swimming, ping pong, good tunes, even better company, encompasses everything we had envisioned for balli to bali. Yoga and qi gong,with an abdominal workout for the books-a fine way to start the morning. I arrived pack strapped to my back, living for a month with clothes strewn on guesthouse floors, to find my clothes hung nicely in our luxurious closet. If only I had that type of assistance at Kangwan University.
We opted out of a snorkeling trip, and instead set out to expose me to one of the most famous activities in Bali. That’s right I went surfing, and my quest to move westward has only been strengthened since doing so. Though from what I hear, the Cali beaches might be hard to compete with arguably the best surfing in the world. With what one could call “couples rashgaurds” Alex and I set out in neon blue and pink tops. Even though I grew up on the ocean, spent summers fighting the strong currents and waves on the vineyard, I have always been fearless of the water. But when there is an 8-foot board attached to you, and you’re taken under, it’s a whole new experience. After regrouping, and letting Alex actually surf for real, we set back out. And though they were baby waves, I stood on my first real attempt for a decent 5 seconds. More than I could have ever imagined possible. Needless to say, I have a new hobby to pursue and will do so in Jeju and in Cali.
When I say we set out to go surfing, I literally mean set out on a journey. A journey that exposed us to the good, the bad and the ugly of Bali. Unable to find a place to rent some boards, we were forced to walk south towards kuta and legion. The beaches where we were located in Canngu were absolutely beautiful and even the touristy destination of Kuta beach was impeccable. So it was much to our surprise when we stumbled upon what could have been Bali municipal waste management center. Amidst a beautiful walk along the ocean, we had to stop dead in our tracks and look at the trash around us. I have never seen so much pollution in my life. We couldn’t walk around it because there was too much. What was more absurd is that resort patrons, just found the clean spots and settled in amidst the garbage. If I were to have had accommodations at one of these resorts, I would have left Bali more infuriated than I was just walking through it. There was garbage on the beach and in the ocean. It is a scene I never want to think about again. EVER.
The beaches near us were beautiful but occasionally the tide got strong.
The waves were strong and so Kate, with her maternal instincts, or perhaps plain logic, instated a no drunken ocean swimming policy. We also instated a no drunken balcony jumping policy rule as the thought had crossed our minds a few times while sober.
Other wonders of bali were the jewelry vendors. Oh the jewelry vendors, stores lined with necklace after necklace, big and chunky, brightly colored, beautiful necklaces. I couldn’t get enough of it. I bargained the man down and found myself very happy with a pile of new gems to add to my collection.
Following a week of indulgence and luxurious living, we packed our bags and bounced to the airport. It was difficult to see our friends off, just about to start their travels in S.E. Asia while ours had come to an end, but I was excited for them nonetheless. We dropped our bags at a baggage storage place. The worst idea masked as the best idea. In a country where “terrorism is imminent” why would you have an unsecure luggage storage in the central part of the airport? Sort of trumps the idea of never leave your bags unattended. We bounced around Kuta for the last time before heading out. The heat was so exhausting; it reminded me of summer days at Kangwan University. Where I was too hot to get to the post office because walking was so tasking.
I arrived home in Korea with a pain in my stomach and knew before I got off the plane something was not right. Nonetheless, I lied on my health quarantine document with fear of what would happen otherwise. When I look back, perhaps they could have been of more help than wikipedia. Anyhow, what it comes down to is that while traveling I came down with an annoyance of a thing, called a parasite. Needless to say, I was down and out for a bit. In fact I still haven’t fully recovered. The reproduction cycle is certainly a wonder.
Though it was somewhat anticlimactic to embark on a cross-country trip in Korea post wild south East Asian adventures, we tackled it with stride and yoegwan tour 2007 was certainly entertaining.
In transit
Following a rousing time in Thailand it was my time to embark on arguably the most absurd leg of my trip. I purchased my “Airport taxi” ticket on the side of the road from a vendor selling cheaper tickets that those at the hotel. Though I was hesitant, after watching carload after carload, day after day, I assumed these people we arriving at the correct destination. We set out and I promptly passed out. Bangkok sure does reinvent one’s definition of party. I slept uncomfortably until the car de-accelerated to a stop on the highway. That’s it; I knew this van wasn’t capable of making it to the airport. I quickly realized we were merely helping another van driver who was stranded. Though I couldn’t help think the worst, I was impressed at the good-natured driver. The van was shady, considering when we arrived at the airport it was immediately given a ticket for being an unlicensed transport provider. But with my luggage in hand, I wasn’t concerned and I set off hoping for a more leisurely journey than that on one two go. Thai international airways is by far the most luxurious airport I have ever been to, but I have heard Singapore, with personal free x box stations, and reclining leather couches gives it a run for it’s money.
As my plane taxied down the runway a fear took over my body. The clanking coming from all parts of the plane was so disconcerting. So loud, I was assured we would be taken back to the terminal. No such thing occurred and we took off as scheduled. I made an assumption that flying on an airliner where you cannot purchase the tickets at 7-11 would prove a gentler ride. I was gravely mistaken. I thought to myself, how ironic it would be were this plane to crash and not the 40-year-old repainted continental airline that one two go acquired. I had my second panic attack, the first being the morning of graduation. The amount of turbulence and endless clanking lead me to reasonably think, parts of this plane are falling into the ocean and we are not far behind. I had never felt so settled as to land in Taipei, but feared the dreaded smell of the airport and the possibility of setting out to find accommodations at 1 am.
Still smelling like 1974, the Taipei airport, was much more alive at night. A speedy trip through immigration made me have a good feeling about my evening’s prospects. Until I realized I unknowingly left the terminal where my transit hotel was located. A debacle in a language I was unfamiliar with quickly ensued. I needed to communicate with immigration, customs, and airlines attendants that although I did not have a boarding pass, and could not acquire one until the morning, I needed to re enter the terminal. Amazingly enough they were extremely accommodating. And so I obtained my first voided entry stamp into a country. And entered the transit hotel with little problem.
Following a brief slumber, I took a deep breath and set out for a day of travel. A 2-½ hour trip back to Seoul followed by a 7-hour flight back down to Bali. Chaotic travel arrangements due to the cancellation of camp Fulbright. The flight was relaxing and my neighbor and I did it right; exit row seating, extra pillows and extra blankets. It was like an airplane fort, and it was fantastic. Once in Seoul, I felt a feeling of comfort, something so fulfilling from a country that once also seemed so foreign.
I set out in the early evening for bali. Unnerved after reading the recent travel warning released not 5 days before. Embassy’s around the world echoed the same sentiments: do not make unnecessary travel to Indonesia. Terrorist attacks against foreigners are imminent and in the advanced planning stages; including but not limited to bombings, kidnappings, poisonings and/or executions. Add this the Adam Air scenario that seems too similar to “Lost,” and I was wondering if I would make it back to Korea alive. Trying to dig deep down and be intrepid, I fought fear and looked forward to the amazingness that was to be Bali to Bali.
I made friends with an older women; she also had the good sense to also choose exit row seating. She was thoroughly interesting and though there must have been a 40-year-old age difference, we decided to catch a cab together and stay at the same guesthouse. She was eager to find better accommodations, which in turn caused quite a riff with the guesthouse staff, since I was guilty by association and had to diffuse the tension between the two parties, even though I had no allegiance to either. She was upset she didn’t have hot water and was paying for hot water. What she failed to realize was compared to a lot of s.e Asia’s conception of hot water, we were bathing in scalding water. She moved on the next morning and I apologized to the staff for the conflict. I caught up on some reading, sudoku and sleep my first day alone in Bali. These badass hot surfer girls kept walking by and I knew at that moment, that I had new goal to accomplish. I was so eager to see the Jeju crew, my anticipation made the day go on forever. I awoke around 12 the next morning and was saved from an artist peddling his paintings, by the fact that I needed to get to the airport. What ensued can only be defined as absurdity.
As my plane taxied down the runway a fear took over my body. The clanking coming from all parts of the plane was so disconcerting. So loud, I was assured we would be taken back to the terminal. No such thing occurred and we took off as scheduled. I made an assumption that flying on an airliner where you cannot purchase the tickets at 7-11 would prove a gentler ride. I was gravely mistaken. I thought to myself, how ironic it would be were this plane to crash and not the 40-year-old repainted continental airline that one two go acquired. I had my second panic attack, the first being the morning of graduation. The amount of turbulence and endless clanking lead me to reasonably think, parts of this plane are falling into the ocean and we are not far behind. I had never felt so settled as to land in Taipei, but feared the dreaded smell of the airport and the possibility of setting out to find accommodations at 1 am.
Still smelling like 1974, the Taipei airport, was much more alive at night. A speedy trip through immigration made me have a good feeling about my evening’s prospects. Until I realized I unknowingly left the terminal where my transit hotel was located. A debacle in a language I was unfamiliar with quickly ensued. I needed to communicate with immigration, customs, and airlines attendants that although I did not have a boarding pass, and could not acquire one until the morning, I needed to re enter the terminal. Amazingly enough they were extremely accommodating. And so I obtained my first voided entry stamp into a country. And entered the transit hotel with little problem.
Following a brief slumber, I took a deep breath and set out for a day of travel. A 2-½ hour trip back to Seoul followed by a 7-hour flight back down to Bali. Chaotic travel arrangements due to the cancellation of camp Fulbright. The flight was relaxing and my neighbor and I did it right; exit row seating, extra pillows and extra blankets. It was like an airplane fort, and it was fantastic. Once in Seoul, I felt a feeling of comfort, something so fulfilling from a country that once also seemed so foreign.
I set out in the early evening for bali. Unnerved after reading the recent travel warning released not 5 days before. Embassy’s around the world echoed the same sentiments: do not make unnecessary travel to Indonesia. Terrorist attacks against foreigners are imminent and in the advanced planning stages; including but not limited to bombings, kidnappings, poisonings and/or executions. Add this the Adam Air scenario that seems too similar to “Lost,” and I was wondering if I would make it back to Korea alive. Trying to dig deep down and be intrepid, I fought fear and looked forward to the amazingness that was to be Bali to Bali.
I made friends with an older women; she also had the good sense to also choose exit row seating. She was thoroughly interesting and though there must have been a 40-year-old age difference, we decided to catch a cab together and stay at the same guesthouse. She was eager to find better accommodations, which in turn caused quite a riff with the guesthouse staff, since I was guilty by association and had to diffuse the tension between the two parties, even though I had no allegiance to either. She was upset she didn’t have hot water and was paying for hot water. What she failed to realize was compared to a lot of s.e Asia’s conception of hot water, we were bathing in scalding water. She moved on the next morning and I apologized to the staff for the conflict. I caught up on some reading, sudoku and sleep my first day alone in Bali. These badass hot surfer girls kept walking by and I knew at that moment, that I had new goal to accomplish. I was so eager to see the Jeju crew, my anticipation made the day go on forever. I awoke around 12 the next morning and was saved from an artist peddling his paintings, by the fact that I needed to get to the airport. What ensued can only be defined as absurdity.
characters you meet along the way.
Drunk Model on a Thai Binge
As we attempted to aquire accomodations for the evening on our first day in Bangkok, Rafiq and I perused the crowd at the Wild Orchid Villa in hopes of finding travelers checking out. Two young ladies, packs in tow, seemed to be ready leave. We asked if they were heading out and if we could have their key. They said "yes, pay us 800 baht." We no sooner asked why we would pay them if they were checking out when an attractive British man swooped in and got the key from them. Rudely interrupting our transaction; bad traveling karma-I thought to myself. We saw him many times after. This man appeared in the lobby of our hotel, his eyes piercing through everything as though he couldn't see what was actually in front of him-only through it. Since then, I see him alone wandering aimlessly, a swagger in his step, as though he's simultaneously searching for something but really, nothing at all. We come across him around 12:45 sipping down long islands and not able to make a coherent sentence but merely gesture intoxicatingly. he was too drunk to speak. So beautiful to look at, but too pathetic for one to entertain such a thought. One would think his next step would be to pay out the tab and hit the sack. But he staggers away in to the night, drunkenly stumbling down the stairs, alone in Bangkok. And I think to myself, "where are you going?"
Flower Boys
1 am, a young boy-more of an entrepreneur in my opinion, solicited 20 baht in exchange for a flower. He was darling, and although I know it is a scheme of sorts, with the money going somewhere that is not his pocket, we felt so compelled to buy one. In my opinion, his parents would be better off placing him in the entertainment world. He is absolutely adorable, perhaps one of the most charismatic people I have ever come across. We did not purchase a flower, but a handsome young lad bought into his deal after seeing us engaged with the young boy. He jetted over to our table. placed it my hands and said, in a charming manor "for you m'lady." He immediately bounced back to his seat with time to spare before his friends came back from the bathroom. He was an indie 20 something British guy. I think the accent was the most delightful part of the interaction. Earlier that evening some hippied out man gave me a flower as well. But took it back after we refused to go with them...where ever that might have been. We saw the indie 20 something British guy around throughout our stay, needless to say we enjoyed him much more than the staggering drunkard who stole our key.
As we attempted to aquire accomodations for the evening on our first day in Bangkok, Rafiq and I perused the crowd at the Wild Orchid Villa in hopes of finding travelers checking out. Two young ladies, packs in tow, seemed to be ready leave. We asked if they were heading out and if we could have their key. They said "yes, pay us 800 baht." We no sooner asked why we would pay them if they were checking out when an attractive British man swooped in and got the key from them. Rudely interrupting our transaction; bad traveling karma-I thought to myself. We saw him many times after. This man appeared in the lobby of our hotel, his eyes piercing through everything as though he couldn't see what was actually in front of him-only through it. Since then, I see him alone wandering aimlessly, a swagger in his step, as though he's simultaneously searching for something but really, nothing at all. We come across him around 12:45 sipping down long islands and not able to make a coherent sentence but merely gesture intoxicatingly. he was too drunk to speak. So beautiful to look at, but too pathetic for one to entertain such a thought. One would think his next step would be to pay out the tab and hit the sack. But he staggers away in to the night, drunkenly stumbling down the stairs, alone in Bangkok. And I think to myself, "where are you going?"
Flower Boys
1 am, a young boy-more of an entrepreneur in my opinion, solicited 20 baht in exchange for a flower. He was darling, and although I know it is a scheme of sorts, with the money going somewhere that is not his pocket, we felt so compelled to buy one. In my opinion, his parents would be better off placing him in the entertainment world. He is absolutely adorable, perhaps one of the most charismatic people I have ever come across. We did not purchase a flower, but a handsome young lad bought into his deal after seeing us engaged with the young boy. He jetted over to our table. placed it my hands and said, in a charming manor "for you m'lady." He immediately bounced back to his seat with time to spare before his friends came back from the bathroom. He was an indie 20 something British guy. I think the accent was the most delightful part of the interaction. Earlier that evening some hippied out man gave me a flower as well. But took it back after we refused to go with them...where ever that might have been. We saw the indie 20 something British guy around throughout our stay, needless to say we enjoyed him much more than the staggering drunkard who stole our key.
January 15
We directed our taxi driver to soi rambuttri after having no luck finding the club we were attempting to go to. But when we arrived, we saw nothing that resembling a bar scene or our intended destination. He in turn said, "I take you to club street many international discotheque." We thanked him but as our cab crept slowly into a dark ally way, occupied only by two homeless men and some stray dogs, we knew there was no club to be found. We politely declined, risking missing the most ultra hip, underground scene should this location actually have proven to be a club scene. And we asked to be taken back to soi rambuttri one more time. He said "ok ok, i bring you another club near there. friend club." The thing about Thailand is everyone seems to have a great friend willing to help you out, sell you a suit, give you a 10 baht tuk tuk. It's unfortunate that in countries where the economy is dependent on tourism, exploitation works on both ends. It is frustrating to have to navigate your way in a country when everyone wants something from you. Unfortunately, i have found this thought true.
We had an altercation at a bar last night. Not was much of an altercation i suppose, as that renders images of throwing punches-a rumble if you will. What we experienced was more like a heightened conflict due to a mis- communication. After chatting with some lovely girls from Australia, trying to find foreigners as amazing as our new friend English Sarah, we all attempted to pay our individual bills. The waiter made a simple mistake. Which I was completely unaware of, until he came back looking for money. I was skeptical to hand over the 100 baht. but quickly realized he was accurate in demanding the change. however when he returned looking for more, I got defensive. I was frustrated that this was the process for handling things. I am used to the customer being right and it is a loss for the establishment if the waitstaff makes the mistake. Now, had I known that I was at fault, I would never use this logic. However, when the manager came over and asked for 500 baht I said, no because it simply made no sense. The table of our Australian friends had also been wrongly charged for items and asked to give money back to the establishment. Lot's of voices were raised, that's for sure. This entire ordeal required an English translator to relay what they were trying to attempt and do, which was to start the transaction over again. This entire situation definitely put a riff in some good conversation and made me frustrated that I had acted so rashly. I should have been calm, but I lost my cool. I still think I lost out 100 baht.
We directed our taxi driver to soi rambuttri after having no luck finding the club we were attempting to go to. But when we arrived, we saw nothing that resembling a bar scene or our intended destination. He in turn said, "I take you to club street many international discotheque." We thanked him but as our cab crept slowly into a dark ally way, occupied only by two homeless men and some stray dogs, we knew there was no club to be found. We politely declined, risking missing the most ultra hip, underground scene should this location actually have proven to be a club scene. And we asked to be taken back to soi rambuttri one more time. He said "ok ok, i bring you another club near there. friend club." The thing about Thailand is everyone seems to have a great friend willing to help you out, sell you a suit, give you a 10 baht tuk tuk. It's unfortunate that in countries where the economy is dependent on tourism, exploitation works on both ends. It is frustrating to have to navigate your way in a country when everyone wants something from you. Unfortunately, i have found this thought true.
We had an altercation at a bar last night. Not was much of an altercation i suppose, as that renders images of throwing punches-a rumble if you will. What we experienced was more like a heightened conflict due to a mis- communication. After chatting with some lovely girls from Australia, trying to find foreigners as amazing as our new friend English Sarah, we all attempted to pay our individual bills. The waiter made a simple mistake. Which I was completely unaware of, until he came back looking for money. I was skeptical to hand over the 100 baht. but quickly realized he was accurate in demanding the change. however when he returned looking for more, I got defensive. I was frustrated that this was the process for handling things. I am used to the customer being right and it is a loss for the establishment if the waitstaff makes the mistake. Now, had I known that I was at fault, I would never use this logic. However, when the manager came over and asked for 500 baht I said, no because it simply made no sense. The table of our Australian friends had also been wrongly charged for items and asked to give money back to the establishment. Lot's of voices were raised, that's for sure. This entire ordeal required an English translator to relay what they were trying to attempt and do, which was to start the transaction over again. This entire situation definitely put a riff in some good conversation and made me frustrated that I had acted so rashly. I should have been calm, but I lost my cool. I still think I lost out 100 baht.
luxurious living and 7-11
"I'd like 2 scratch tickets, a pack of Marlboro lights, and a round trip ticket to phuket leaving on Saturday and returning on Tuesday??"
Lived the luxurious life in Phuket-saunas, massages, personal drivers and yummy Thai food. Despite all of this I wondered if it was worth it. I have to ask you...would you feel uncomfortable flying an airline that sells tickets from 7-11? I think yes. I arrived back in Bangkok and my One Two Go airlines nightmare story was solidified. As if I needed more proof that flying budget airlines utilizing old school 1980 continental airlines planes-was a bad idea. The total 5 hour delay was not the most absurd part, nor was the new wing on the runway or painted exit signs. The Velcro neck collars on the flight attendants were appalling, but it was the scene on the tar mac that solidified things in my mind. A flight crew sitting and attempting, with much vigor, to resuscitate a passenger's pet that must have had a hard attack like i nearly did during, take off, landing, and all of the turbulence in between.
Lived the luxurious life in Phuket-saunas, massages, personal drivers and yummy Thai food. Despite all of this I wondered if it was worth it. I have to ask you...would you feel uncomfortable flying an airline that sells tickets from 7-11? I think yes. I arrived back in Bangkok and my One Two Go airlines nightmare story was solidified. As if I needed more proof that flying budget airlines utilizing old school 1980 continental airlines planes-was a bad idea. The total 5 hour delay was not the most absurd part, nor was the new wing on the runway or painted exit signs. The Velcro neck collars on the flight attendants were appalling, but it was the scene on the tar mac that solidified things in my mind. A flight crew sitting and attempting, with much vigor, to resuscitate a passenger's pet that must have had a hard attack like i nearly did during, take off, landing, and all of the turbulence in between.
one night in bangkok...
Arrived in Bangkok around 1 in the morning. Of course my flight had some in flight entertainment AND, just my luck the movie actually finished within the duration of the flight. However, due to my seat placement, I could hardly see the centralized screen and it could be categorized in "the terminal"/"Holiday" genre. I had high hopes for Jacinda Barrett (cast member of the real world London) and Zack Braff. But, this movie ended up being a lame attempt at on spin off of Garden State, with a soundtrack that didn't have a chance to compete. It was awful, and for that reason I can't even remember the movie's name-but it's probably for the better.
I had an unsettled feeling the entire flight. I assume it was attributed to arriving in Bangkok alone at 2 in the morning. My fears subsided a bit when arrived at the massive and aesthetically pleasing, Thai international airport. A nice airport is really important for a city's image and Thailand's airport is gorgeous. The employees were helpful and assisted me in finding a legit taxi while translating my needs to him. Things I would learn quickly were luxuries not to be taken for granted. This service made me feel secure that it was smooth sailing from here on out.
I was heading to Th. Khao San, the backpackers haven in Bangkok. A few times throughout the taxi ride, I thought to myself, "this man, should he want to, could take me anywhere and I would be rendered helpless-lacking any Thai language skills, or familiarity with the city. Fortunately I arrived to my intended destination. Though it looked desolate and unlike what I had imagined from a location travel guides cite as "never sleeping." The road was dark and it's only movement consisted of shady looking characters, seemingly strung out or otherwise indisposed. Needless to say, I stuck out like a sore thumb; cords rolled and a 3/4 length shirt in 89 degree weather. Tuk Tuk drivers solicited rides and I politely declined, walking in stride with hopes of concealing the fear that was settling in of being alone and accommodation-less at 3 am in Bangkok. The scene was reminiscent of the biblical tale "no room at the inn," Without the entourage, but with a heavy load on my back, I might as well have been pregnant and going into labor i was carrying so much. most of my interactions went something like this:
Me: Hello do you have a room
Proprietor of Guesthouse (heavily intoxicated): no no maybe all full.
Me: Do you think everywhere is full?
Proprietor (Laughing): maybe everywhere is full.
I can infer from Korean interactions "maybe" is not used in the traditional sense of "possibly", but rather as a definitive yes. In turn when you hear or see "Maybe", insert "yes," accordingly.
I stumbled across a burger king. Fantastic, the only sign of life is at burger king! Feeling comfortable amongst the foreigner population seemingly in a similar situation, I entered the familiar establishment. I thought it a good idea to re group while discretely consulting lonely planet as to my next move. I figured my best bet was to consult some fellow travelers whom, with no packs seemed more acclimated to Bangkok's goings on.
While asking for some info, another group of folks came in and joined the conversation. Feeling sheepish, though not ashamed or defeated, I asked the three travelers from Canada if I could hop on with them and look for accommodations together. Usually I embrace the go it alone challenge, but when I think I am about to have to forgo a 2 dollar a night accommodation and seek out a Sheraton or Marriott i think twice. They were more than happy and after a search that seemed endless, we finally found accommodations. Ones, that forced us to bunk up, but nonetheless, we had beds!
It was 4 am, this didn't stop us from pursuing an Internet cafe to send greetings of safe arrivals to friends and families. And, starved from our tedious search, we settled into a crowded and chaotic bar on Soi rambuttri. It was filled with travelers drinking through until morning due to the lack of vacancies. Lonely planet failed to mention that accommodations are imposable and reservations non-existent in this haven for hobos from around the world. Seeing travelers roam in throughout the early morning-i was saddened that they were unaware of the task they were about to endure. We joked that we should summon them into the bar and join the party. In saying this, the table next door peeped in and said "hey hey, that's what we're doin." We soon found out these kids were from Vancouver and frequented the same bars as the Canadian kids i was traveling with.
I had no clue what I was doing bunking with these strangers. All I could think of was Taiko getting her passport and wallet stolen from "nice foreigners" she had met. But desperate times, sometimes call for desperate measures. and they seemed like decent kids. I slept with my passport and plane tickets in my pillowcase Prague Czech Republic style. A bit over protective, I am sure, but I was willing to seem ridiculous.
We awoke and set out. So many beautiful people despite some of the wacko travelers. I could people watch all day, in fact i did. After downing some padthai, we wandered the markets and vendors and delighted in eyebrow waxes and Thai massages. I was terrified that I would emerge from my wax with no eyebrows left, but was surprisingly impressed by the job she had done. While the crew compared prices of travel agents, I decided to take advantage of the fact that I had family in Phuket and figured out a way to bounce down to the south for a few days. It would get me out of Bangkok and to the beach.
Following dinner, we hit up the sky train area of Siam Sq. It was an entirely different feel from the Khao San vibe. Khao San is the equivalent to that of shakedown street-any dead/phish heads? Vendors selling their wares, strung out and drunk folks,and more hippied out dreaded kids than anywhere other than a concert of the jam band variety, I am amazed More college students don't do spring break Thailand. It's dirt cheap, drinks everywhere, parties all night long and beer funneling antics similar to that of a frat party taking place at 9 am. You sure see the good, the bad and the ugly of Thailand in the foreigner district. Siam sq, is the hip affluent/western influenced shopping area. Instead of Thai fisherman pants, you found Channel and Gucci. Oh and amazing break dancers-couldn't forget that.
I had an unsettled feeling the entire flight. I assume it was attributed to arriving in Bangkok alone at 2 in the morning. My fears subsided a bit when arrived at the massive and aesthetically pleasing, Thai international airport. A nice airport is really important for a city's image and Thailand's airport is gorgeous. The employees were helpful and assisted me in finding a legit taxi while translating my needs to him. Things I would learn quickly were luxuries not to be taken for granted. This service made me feel secure that it was smooth sailing from here on out.
I was heading to Th. Khao San, the backpackers haven in Bangkok. A few times throughout the taxi ride, I thought to myself, "this man, should he want to, could take me anywhere and I would be rendered helpless-lacking any Thai language skills, or familiarity with the city. Fortunately I arrived to my intended destination. Though it looked desolate and unlike what I had imagined from a location travel guides cite as "never sleeping." The road was dark and it's only movement consisted of shady looking characters, seemingly strung out or otherwise indisposed. Needless to say, I stuck out like a sore thumb; cords rolled and a 3/4 length shirt in 89 degree weather. Tuk Tuk drivers solicited rides and I politely declined, walking in stride with hopes of concealing the fear that was settling in of being alone and accommodation-less at 3 am in Bangkok. The scene was reminiscent of the biblical tale "no room at the inn," Without the entourage, but with a heavy load on my back, I might as well have been pregnant and going into labor i was carrying so much. most of my interactions went something like this:
Me: Hello do you have a room
Proprietor of Guesthouse (heavily intoxicated): no no maybe all full.
Me: Do you think everywhere is full?
Proprietor (Laughing): maybe everywhere is full.
I can infer from Korean interactions "maybe" is not used in the traditional sense of "possibly", but rather as a definitive yes. In turn when you hear or see "Maybe", insert "yes," accordingly.
I stumbled across a burger king. Fantastic, the only sign of life is at burger king! Feeling comfortable amongst the foreigner population seemingly in a similar situation, I entered the familiar establishment. I thought it a good idea to re group while discretely consulting lonely planet as to my next move. I figured my best bet was to consult some fellow travelers whom, with no packs seemed more acclimated to Bangkok's goings on.
While asking for some info, another group of folks came in and joined the conversation. Feeling sheepish, though not ashamed or defeated, I asked the three travelers from Canada if I could hop on with them and look for accommodations together. Usually I embrace the go it alone challenge, but when I think I am about to have to forgo a 2 dollar a night accommodation and seek out a Sheraton or Marriott i think twice. They were more than happy and after a search that seemed endless, we finally found accommodations. Ones, that forced us to bunk up, but nonetheless, we had beds!
It was 4 am, this didn't stop us from pursuing an Internet cafe to send greetings of safe arrivals to friends and families. And, starved from our tedious search, we settled into a crowded and chaotic bar on Soi rambuttri. It was filled with travelers drinking through until morning due to the lack of vacancies. Lonely planet failed to mention that accommodations are imposable and reservations non-existent in this haven for hobos from around the world. Seeing travelers roam in throughout the early morning-i was saddened that they were unaware of the task they were about to endure. We joked that we should summon them into the bar and join the party. In saying this, the table next door peeped in and said "hey hey, that's what we're doin." We soon found out these kids were from Vancouver and frequented the same bars as the Canadian kids i was traveling with.
I had no clue what I was doing bunking with these strangers. All I could think of was Taiko getting her passport and wallet stolen from "nice foreigners" she had met. But desperate times, sometimes call for desperate measures. and they seemed like decent kids. I slept with my passport and plane tickets in my pillowcase Prague Czech Republic style. A bit over protective, I am sure, but I was willing to seem ridiculous.
We awoke and set out. So many beautiful people despite some of the wacko travelers. I could people watch all day, in fact i did. After downing some padthai, we wandered the markets and vendors and delighted in eyebrow waxes and Thai massages. I was terrified that I would emerge from my wax with no eyebrows left, but was surprisingly impressed by the job she had done. While the crew compared prices of travel agents, I decided to take advantage of the fact that I had family in Phuket and figured out a way to bounce down to the south for a few days. It would get me out of Bangkok and to the beach.
Following dinner, we hit up the sky train area of Siam Sq. It was an entirely different feel from the Khao San vibe. Khao San is the equivalent to that of shakedown street-any dead/phish heads? Vendors selling their wares, strung out and drunk folks,and more hippied out dreaded kids than anywhere other than a concert of the jam band variety, I am amazed More college students don't do spring break Thailand. It's dirt cheap, drinks everywhere, parties all night long and beer funneling antics similar to that of a frat party taking place at 9 am. You sure see the good, the bad and the ugly of Thailand in the foreigner district. Siam sq, is the hip affluent/western influenced shopping area. Instead of Thai fisherman pants, you found Channel and Gucci. Oh and amazing break dancers-couldn't forget that.
In-Flight Entertainment
January 10
The worst thing about in flight entertainment is the fact that the films aired, are something longer than the flight itself. I can not convey how frustrating it is to screen a film only to perfectly time landing with the climactic turning point. 1 hour and 47 minutes in and only 15 to go. This has happened twice in a row, which makes me think my next leg of this journey will be catch up time. This situation however, leaves me with quite the predicament-a catch 22 if you will. Ass soon as I complete the screening of my two prior films, I will find myself facing the same issue with my new movie pick. And let's not even get started with the fact that the movie selection might be different-leaving me completely unfulfilled and just wanting to know what ever happens to Olive in the pageant in Little Miss Sunshine.
The worst thing about in flight entertainment is the fact that the films aired, are something longer than the flight itself. I can not convey how frustrating it is to screen a film only to perfectly time landing with the climactic turning point. 1 hour and 47 minutes in and only 15 to go. This has happened twice in a row, which makes me think my next leg of this journey will be catch up time. This situation however, leaves me with quite the predicament-a catch 22 if you will. Ass soon as I complete the screening of my two prior films, I will find myself facing the same issue with my new movie pick. And let's not even get started with the fact that the movie selection might be different-leaving me completely unfulfilled and just wanting to know what ever happens to Olive in the pageant in Little Miss Sunshine.
Taipei for a Day
I preface this post with an apology for the out of sorts, out or order, lack of posts this past month. It's been a wild time. I am safely back in Korea, teaching once again. Hope you enjoy-I had a blast.
JANUARY 9
Sitting in Taipei airport-15:17. Only 6 hours before boarding my next flight. My assumptions regarding the Taipei airport facilities were way off. I had hoped for an airport similar to Incheon; grand, beautiful, and new. But, much to my dismay, I am sitting amidst construction in a room that smells like 1974. To be honest, I have no clue what the year 1974 smelled like-I mean clearly you can't quantify the smell of a year. But I am pretty sure if you could, this would be an accurate description. Perhaps, it's the bleakness of the place, an eerie emptiness that for a moment had me thinking some massive catastrophe or political event must have taken place-which could explain the desolate airport.
Perhaps more disconcerting was the one man show at security clearance. He was doing it all; x-ray machine, searches of bags, the metal detector. Hell he was acting as a customer service and visitor information center, directing travelers to respective terminals and bathroom facilities. Now, with an operation like this, I could assume, all liquids were a go. I would not have a Kate Barney ordeal regarding a a confiscated jar of nutella.
Now I shouldn't be all down on the Taipei airport, as there were some perks. Like the showers for instance. Yes, they have full shower facilities. had I known about such a thing, I would have packed accordingly-wasted an hour here cleaning myself, rather than attempting to sleep in a climate controlled room so poorly controlled I thought the arctic freeze had begun. As I sit here scribbling away, I only wish I had some of the resources available to Tom Hanks in "The Terminal." Yes I am citing the worst movie in history second to "The Holiday"-but seriously, slouching and attempting to rest my arm in a variety of positions---nothing works. And it's only 15:35-if only I had my Shampoo.
JANUARY 9
Sitting in Taipei airport-15:17. Only 6 hours before boarding my next flight. My assumptions regarding the Taipei airport facilities were way off. I had hoped for an airport similar to Incheon; grand, beautiful, and new. But, much to my dismay, I am sitting amidst construction in a room that smells like 1974. To be honest, I have no clue what the year 1974 smelled like-I mean clearly you can't quantify the smell of a year. But I am pretty sure if you could, this would be an accurate description. Perhaps, it's the bleakness of the place, an eerie emptiness that for a moment had me thinking some massive catastrophe or political event must have taken place-which could explain the desolate airport.
Perhaps more disconcerting was the one man show at security clearance. He was doing it all; x-ray machine, searches of bags, the metal detector. Hell he was acting as a customer service and visitor information center, directing travelers to respective terminals and bathroom facilities. Now, with an operation like this, I could assume, all liquids were a go. I would not have a Kate Barney ordeal regarding a a confiscated jar of nutella.
Now I shouldn't be all down on the Taipei airport, as there were some perks. Like the showers for instance. Yes, they have full shower facilities. had I known about such a thing, I would have packed accordingly-wasted an hour here cleaning myself, rather than attempting to sleep in a climate controlled room so poorly controlled I thought the arctic freeze had begun. As I sit here scribbling away, I only wish I had some of the resources available to Tom Hanks in "The Terminal." Yes I am citing the worst movie in history second to "The Holiday"-but seriously, slouching and attempting to rest my arm in a variety of positions---nothing works. And it's only 15:35-if only I had my Shampoo.
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