Is it A Hike to Get to Tomorrow? (#4)
Sunday, April 12, 2015 at 01:49AM The sun is setting over Dangjeong.
The buildings across from mine reflect the sunlight that I can't see. It is a comfort to see the concrete light up in the glory of the afternoon light. The transformative properties of Mother Nature embrace me. I think about what else she can do.
You can probably tell I am listening to Chopin.
Classical music becomes universal in the smallest of moments.
I am sitting wearing a different kind of mask today. Spring has arrived and I find the air safely entering and exiting my bronchials.
Korea is known for its prodigal skin care products. So I've ventured to Nature Republic to purchase "Lotus Flower." This is intended to hydrate my skin. I did not ask what the "Snail" mask was intended for. I was unsure which part of the snail was used to create the consistency of facial mud. There were also some other questionable animal masks (caviar?) and I instead went with flora instead of fauna for the pores.
Last week, I made phone calls to all of my students at home after school hours. My assignment was to distribute questions about the U.S. that they had to know the answers to, much like an immigration-style questionnaire. The interrogation lasts 10 minutes, during which the parents of the child get giddy at home over speakerphone as they listen to their child speak in rehearsed English. The most rewarding parts of the experience are the long silences.
This weekend, a couple other foreign teachers and I ventured to hike Mt. Umyeonsan. This is one of the smaller hills nestling Seoul in the Gangnam area. Mountains: Korea are like Architecture: Spain. The mountains are sprinkled throughout the city and there often seems to be no division between metropolitan areas and the beauty of a nature retreat. It can be disorienting and also comforting.
Like not quite knowing where you are but liking it. That is perhaps the moment when Dorothy first meets the Munchkins in Oz.
Once we made it to the top of the mountain and descended into a ravine, we found a minaret-like structure next to what I called "an apartment complex." It turns out this "apartment complex" was actually a temple. Because I saw a structure that looked modern, I had mistaken it as a residential building instead of the "antiquated" religous institution we were looking for.
At the entrance of the temple, I found two sculptures modeled after my experiences teaching at the English Academy. I was shocked that the Koreans took the time to make such accurate depictions of my experiences with the children.
A Wonderful Day Teaching
A Terrible Day Teaching
After fawning over my self-portraits erected at the temple, we were invited in for our first traditional Korea tea ceremony accompanied by all sorts of snacks. The on-the-house(temple?) tea ceremony requires you to sit up straight and take three sips of tea in order to finish each cup. It is a meditation, a getaway from the bustle of city life.
During this process, our host commented that the bodies of my colleagues were very beautiful. I drank my tea clumsily and did not receive a compliment. However, she did determine that I was the oldest of the group. And so I had the "honor" of pouring the tea for the others.
Whether or not it landed in the cup.
I am not sure who the person to our right was, but we accepted the individual with good graces and I made sure to pour him/her the tea first. During this process, we got the impression that the ceremony would keep going unless we departed from it by force. And so we did. But not without a dinner invitation which we politely declined.
Chopin is playing his nocturnes to me. The towers are now darker, but my window is open so I can still get a waft of the warmed night air. I want to capture the remnants of that setting sun.
I stand up to shaken out my foot, which has fallen asleep to the hum of uploading videos. This morning, I saw a man walking strangely out of a BBQ place, and I assumed he was inebriated from a late night of soju-drinking. It turns out his legs were asleep from sitting on them for too long.
Spring has arrived in this part of the world, which means everybody is losing their senses about the cherry blossoms emerging. In order to celebrate this occasion, I climbed Mount Suri this morning to discover what the fuss was about.
I ended up reacting in a way that suprised even myself. When I watch my reaction, I am not sure whether the blossoms are that beautiful or whether I am desperate for any sort of beauty here. In recovery from a severe bout of illness and exhaustion from readjustment, I am a moth to the flame of this view.
Although perhaps I hold the camera on myself a bit too long. When alone in a new country, one is prone to bad selfies and revealing long video footage. The existential traveller needs a haircut.
It is now dark, and Chopin tells me it is time to drink Ginseng rice wine. He is a smart and intuitive man who has guided me from the beauty of one day into the next.
I leave you all with a photo of friendship over a view of Seoul.
Let the warmth of others let in the world.
Lesson of the Week: Keep your window open during a beautiful sunset. You never know what will blow in from the departing day.
Yours,
Bulgogi Teacher
Reader Comments (3)
What at the... marshmallow tubes (?) that the woman is cutting at the tea ceremony?
The "marshmallow tubes" are Ddeok, or sticky rice cake tubes. They are not sweet, but rather need to be chewed thoroughly and oh-so-deliciously.
L O V E Y O U!