When ya gotta go . . .

Every once in awhile I push my bladder to the limit. I get wrapped up in something, I'm lazy, or just don't have the opportunity to take care of business. Sometimes, once I realize my situation has become dire, I think I could go anywhere. Apparently, my taxi driver had reached such an apex of discomfort today. I hopped a taxi from KBS to my dentist's office this afternoon and about five minutes into the ride noticed that the surroundings were quite peaceful. The car radio was turned off, not spewing the typical array of dubious American covers. Traffic was decent so the cacophony of honking horns was muted to a tolerable level. Quite peaceful, indeed, and a good opportunity to catch up on some reading. I was knee-deep in the letters section of the latest National Geographic when I detected a curious sound coming from the front seat. It sounded like liquid being poured onto plastic. That's when I noticed that Mr. Taxidriver's hands weren't on the wheel. His arms were clearly positioned somewhere in his lap and as he casually looked around, scoping out the nondescript apartment buildings and neon signs outside the car, I came to the shocking realization that he was, in deed, relieving himself. I was utterly nonplussed. As I sat there considering whether this was a weird Korea thing, or just a weird thing, I couldn't decide whether to feel violated, humored, or disgusted. I settled on something involving all three. I think it was the utter nonchalance Mr. Taxidriver demonstrated that most appalled me. Some people have difficulty letting loose in a bathroom if they know people outside the door may be able to hear. This guy had no such qualms. As he completed the task and buttoned up, I just returned to my National Geographic and thought, "At least he didn't have to go number two."

No Smoking . . . unless you want to

I've long noticed the unmistakable stench of cigarette smoke present in bathroom stalls and stairwells around KBS, but until today had never actually witnessed someone lighting up. There are "No Smoking" signs posted in recording studios throughout the building, and odd stickers applied to bathroom stall doors that, as far as I can tell, imply one of two things; 1) crabs are using our toilets or, 2) crabs prefer unfiltered cigarettes when using the toilet. Despite the ambiguous warnings, five minutes in a bathroom at KBS can leave you smelling like you've been hanging out in a smoky tavern for hours. I often see men (never women) standing in stairwells, wafts of smoke circling around them, but the sources of the fumes are always concealed, as though they don't realize the smell and reduced visibility in the area are a dead giveaway. And today, a first; I watched a cavalier gentleman light up with the suave mystique of a 1950s movie star while sauntering down the hallway outside my office. According to my sources, you're "not supposed to" smoke in the building, but apparently that rule isn't strictly enforced, and certainly not to someone who looks so cool in the act.

While smoking is quite prevalent among Korean men (around 4 in 10), the women who partake of cancer sticks usually do so in private places (such as bathroom stalls) where they can't be seen. Just last week I noticed two very feminine, well-dressed 20-something Korean girls crouched in a back alley of a busy downtown district, puffing away. I've never seen a Korean woman smoking openly, so unless there really are crabs using the bathrooms in KBS, someone is breaking the rules!

Valentine's Day--Korea

Korean's have figured out a way to recognize Valentine's Day while building a second-chance day for men and a separate day for cynics right into the system. Valentine's Day in Korea is a time for women to bestow upon men chocolates, candies, and the like. The lucky ones with both X and Y chromosomes can sit back and be showered with gifts from wives, girlfriends, sweethearts, daughters, even co-workers. It's completely acceptable, and often expected, for females to buy chocolates for all the men in their lives, regardless of the nature of the relationship. Of course, if the brown-nosing men out there want to go ahead and buy gifts for their sweeties on Valentine's Day, the gifts aren't likely to be turned down. The men aren't expected to reciprocate in any way, however—until White Day on March 14. That's the day women hope to get their due. So, I think of it as a second chance for men, since most probably screwed up Valentine's Day in some fashion anyway. And for those who get shafted on either of those days, or are otherwise disgruntled, there's April 14, Black Day. Black bean noodles called jjajangmyun (짜 장 뮨) are consumed by the bowlful by black-clad singles and cynics who use the day as their personal revenge against holidays dedicated to love.

Cognizant of the customs regarding Valentine's Day here in Korea, I was anxious to see how things played out among my co-workers and friends. The men in the office certainly received many more chocolates and gifts than the women, although I did get a few treats, myself. Our English service intern (a female) gave me a chocolate with a note that almost brought a tear to my eye:

Dear Abbie (smiley face)
Happy Valentine! Pretty Abbie (smiley face) though there's been little time to talk, I 'shall' know you have a warm heart! I like your voice on radio, so, please let me hear it for a long time (smiley face)
Ji-yeon

I'll let you know how things go on White Day next month. If this system works like the well-oiled machine I think it is, I should rake in some serious chocolate on April 14.

National Treasure #1 goes down in history, up in flames

Korea's most well-known national landmark, designated National Treasure #1, was destroyed in a fire Sunday night. The 610 year-old Sungnyemun, better known as Namdaemun Gate, went up in flames in a suspected arson. There's controversy over how the disaster was handled, but the bottom line is the wooden part is history. The stone base still stands, and the government says it will restore the gate to its original design. The gate was modified under Japanese colonial rule.

There was mixed reaction around KBS today in response to the event. Some people seemed absolutely devastated, given the significance of the site being designated a national treasure. Others weren't phased and even suggested the "gate" is rather laughable, the only historic structure among modern sky scrapers and bustling city streets. Apparently there's enough appreciation, however, for the government to agree to a $21 million restoration. The project should be completed in three years.

The aftermath

Yoko, Josh, and me in front of Namdaemun in November, 2007

Ice Skating with Dr. Choi and Family

Dr. Choi's soon, Brian, got a perm because the most talented kid on his soccer team has a perm. No report yet on whether there's a correlation between soccer skill and curly hair.

Brian pretty much just pulled me around the rink.

Hmm . . . maybe I should get a perm . . .

Seollal

On February 7 Koreans celebrated the lunar New Year, or Seollal in Korean. Known to many Westerners as the Chinese New Year, this is one of Korea's biggest holidays, perhaps the biggest. Like Chuseok, the Korean Thanksgiving, this holiday means a tremendous amount of work for women, particularly the wives of eldest sons. My boss, Sophia, for instance, hosted her in-laws for over a week, preparing huge meals on a daily basis. Part of the tradition of Seollal involves a pilgrimage to one's hometown, so the holiday is marked by an exodus of Seoulites from the city. Traffic last Monday and Tuesday was horrendous. Flights out of the country to places like Japan, the U.S., and southeast Asia were completely booked weeks ago (since many people use the vacation time to travel abroad) . Once I heard that, I actually started to feel a little trapped . . . I couldn't even leave if I wanted to! By Wednesday the streets of Seoul were considerably less congested and typically bustling shopping areas were eerily quiet. Those who stay in Korea are somewhat compelled to head to their home towns to pay respects to their ancestors who are memorialized there. So, with Seoul looking like a ghost town, I'm thinking, "Doesn't anyone call Seoul his hometown?!"

I spent the holiday ice skating and dining at the Seoul Grand Hyatt with a Korean doctor and his family. I've given a few English lessons to Dr. Choi, so he and his wife invited me to join them for some New Year's celebration. I was supposed to eat the traditional holiday dish, a soup called tteokguk which is supposed to make you a year older every time you eat it, but I somehow dodged that bullet. I have a hard enough time trying to figure out how old Koreans are (since they're considered 1 year old when they're born, plus the lunar New Year throws an additional kink in the system) without this superstition clouding my perception. Two weeks ago Sophia's daughter was 8 years old in Korea and 7 years old in Western age. She's somehow now 9 years old in Korea and still 7 years old in Western age . . . and she didn't have a birthday! Your guess is as good as mine.