Christmas, Skiing, and other Diversions

Here comes another scattered post from a scattered mind. I'm staying up tonight to hear Carl Kassel's last newscast, which happens at 1am my time. I sit surrounded by sundry pursuits...my 2010 engagement calender stacked on top of Lonely Planet Korea, with which I've been laying out sightseeing plans. My goal is a day trip, a weekend trip, and one Seoul sight a month...nothing set in stone, but if I don't sketch it out, before I know it, it'll be June and I'll have 6 weekend trips still on my wish list. I also have here Lonely Planet Japan, not needed 'til summer, but fat enough that I want to eke away at it over time; "A New Earth", one of those books that revolutionizes your mind, with a notebook for distilling the author's Deep Thoughts and a journal for pontificating on mine; Rand McNally 2000, my only link to the wonders of my homeland, facilitating dreams for next fall; a wad of foil and wax paper containing homemade bark; my Rick Steves Christmas DVD, which has inexplicably stopped working since last Monday, but hope springs eternal; a thin Korean notebook with random pictures on the cover, including one of Moki Dugway--had to buy it for that (actually bought it for 75 cents, which made the decision easy)...periodically, I clean off the couch, but it never stays that way for long...

Christmas has come and gone since I last wrote, and it was pleasant and even rather festive. I went to a Christmas Eve potluck where my contribution of boxed mac & cheese was cause for much rejoicing and I escaped the grab bag gift exchange with a much-needed winter scarf. Midnight Mass was nixed after I learned that getting inside involves queues reminiscent of a Star Wars opening, so I went to the Christmas morning service instead. Myeongdong Cathedral was built in the 1890s with brick, stained glass, and the works. In Europe, no guidebook writer would waste a keystroke on it, but in Seoul, it's quite remarkable, and I was glad I went as soon as I walked in. For the most part, I could have been anywhere--particularly Ireland, since that's where the priest is from--there were just a few subtle clues: the Korean women wore veils; there was no kneeling, wine, or hand-holding; and you "peace" people by bowing to them. I was fortunate enough to have presents--mostly socks--to open at "home", then off to another party. At this one, they collected money and did all the cooking, and it was something to write home about...so I am. Stuffing, tofu, vegetables, deviled eggs...and homemade applesauce. No bedtime snack necessary!

Sunday was a banner day. Met some friends for brunch in Itaewon. Itaewon is the international district, which means:
1. prices are double everywhere else
2. VAT is not included in said prices, like it is everywhere else
3. English is spoken automatically
4. You have to remember to say "Excuse me" if someone's in your way
5. It's easy to pretend you're home, just for a little while
We sat in the little "garden level" restaurant and watched Seoul's first measurable snowfall of the year come down. I ate a giant plate of phenomenal pancakes, covered in bananas, nuts, and ice cream. And way too much syrup (you don't pour your own). I felt kinda sick for hours afterward, but it was worth it. We moved on to What the Book?, the English bookstore, where I found a used copy of Gulliver's Travels. And the best part...requires some backstory:

Animal hats are big here. THE 'in' thing. Cats, bears, dogs, sheep...it doesn't matter. And whether you're 2 years old or in university (or middle school!) doesn't matter, either. Guys, girls, everyone is wearing animal hats. They're cute. They're quintessential Korea. The last thing I need is another ridiculous-looking hat....but I realized that if I wear it in Korea, I WON'T look ridiculous! Except for the fact that my head circumference is big by American standards, so in a place where everyone is already tinier than me--forget it. I tried one on in Gongju and it wasn't the ears and eyes that made it look dumb. Still, when I was downtown last week and saw the "wolf-in-sheeps-clothing" hat being sold by Paris Baguette, it was a very strong temptation. But the hats weren't for sale as such; they were a giveaway if you bought a Christmas cake (the preferred celebratory accessory in Korea). Prices went up from $20. Nah. As you may have already guessed, though, Sarah and Diana bought a Paris Baguette Christmas cake on Friday, and they gave me the hat! Good friends, they! It's awfully cute in my apartment here, but maybe I'll have to wear it home in February.

Monday was the last day of school--I've seen "Merry Christmas Mr. Bean" close to 20 times now--and the reward for us teachers was a free trip to a ski resort. Transportation, meals, lift ticket, ski rental, condo accommodation, and even a bag of snacks were all included. I spent the night in a palatial (by comparison) unit with 6 young Korean teachers, 4 of whom were afraid of me (though 2 were over it by the end of the evening). I wondered if I was foolish for eschewing free lessons, but after the first run, I got my ski legs back. After hiking Korea's vertical mountains, I'd been concerned about what skiing here entails, but there were a couple of greens (although they don't use that system exactly) and I managed not to break anything. Except for the hopeless English on the gondola signs (and a few other places: "please warming up before the skiing" was one of the better translations), it could have been anywhere.

The whole endeavor was billed as a "workshop", and the schedule showed a few sessions for "talking about next year" as Terrie told me. She also said, "Probably that means drinking," and it was so. Again, it strikes me how the differences between countries aren't linear...it's not that one is "more" than the other; things just manifest in different ways. We did have one short meeting this morning, where everyone pulled a slip of paper from a can, read it to the group (I gather they were bon mots about teaching), then got a wrapped package corresponding to a number on the paper. Generally, people don't know what to do with me, and either decide to be overweening, or deal with it by pretending I'm not there. I hoped the latter might be the case in this instance, but my "babysitter" for the trip prevented that. I chose my strip and, without once looking at the audience, read it syllable by syllable, and got my gift--a tube of toothpaste. With pictures of rice plants on it. Wonder how that's gonna taste.

Have I mentioned that Koreans brush their teeth every time they eat? I noticed that toothbrushes are always sold in a super-economy pack, which I wrote off as a cultural quirk, but now I understand--even if you're just one person, you need a bunch of them. One for home, one for work, one to keep in your purse/pocket, etc, etc. Not only does everyone brush after lunch, but if we have a snack in the office, they're all over at the sink afterward. I feel like an adolescent boy by comparison.

So I'm off to school tomorrow, with serious doubts about whether anyone else will be there. Even if they're not, though, I have "camp" for the next 2 weeks, and having only been filled in on this right before we left yesterday, I've got a bit of planning to do. Gotta make sure I remember my longjohns!

PS--my new camera is (hopefully) on its way across the ocean as I write, so with any luck, I'll have photos to post again before too long