Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Suwheeet!

The long missing Peace Education Conference just contacted me, and I am presenting on September 27th, in the afternoon.

Book me that ticket to Seoul!

And, or course, BKF is co-writer on the paper, so it's a win all around....

now.. I must party... they will find me just like they found Heath Ledger...

well, except he was fit and handsome.. but you know what I mean. ;-)

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Tuesday, July 08, 2008

The 4th of July was pretty epic fun. Particularly since it started with not plan in mind. Out on the street, as I was heading to the store, I ran into a couple of folks from my building as they headed off to buy things including fireworks.

I ran with them a way (there was some promise of fireworks being available at a small store, but it turned out to be no more than sparklers), and then turned back to the lovely solace of air-conditioning and soju.

But a few hours later my phone rang and as I ran in from the deck to answer it, I heard banging in the stairwell. This was ADAM and his family, and Thumper McStomp heading up to BPU to set off fireworks on the soccer pitch (essentially sand formed into cement by generations of Korean spit). I brought my camera so that I could take pictures.

We were headed to the soccer pitch because this same group had started to set fireworks off by the second river but had received a group hairy-eyeball from a bunch of Koreans who were preparing for their weekly session in which they dress up as cows and protest pretty much anything that they can think of. In this case, it could have been fireworks, and ADAM and Thumper Mac didn't want to get into any of that. The soccer pitch had the advantage of NOT being the location of a demonstration as well as plenty of free space.

They began setting off Roman Candles (Korean fireworks are splendidly not-safe and not-sane) and all of a sudden a whistle began to blow from the building behind us. Thumper didn't seem to hear it and casually lit another Roman Candle. This cause the whistling to increase to a mighty level and Thumper heard it, but had just lit the fuse on a 10-ball Roman Candle. As each ball sped into the night sky, the guy with the whistle went a bit louder and a bit higher.

It seemed endless, but finally Thumper's Roman Candle guttered out and a security guy from another building came over and told us that we'd need a permit from the college to do things on the soccer pitch.

Oh well, chased away from the 4th of July twice now.

So it was back to the apartment and the certain solace of soju, where an hour later I heard English-speakers on the street. Once again it was Adam, this time with two other instructors in tow. They had bags of un-safe and insande fireworks and a two-liter plastic container of some ferocious rice-wine that they had purchased from a monastery (they said). A few more calls and we had a group of about 7 people and we headed, noisily I'm afraid, down to the closest confluence of a rivulet and something approaching a creek. There we proceeded to shoot of about an hour of fireworks and drink the rice-wine and some beer we had purchased on the way.

Thumper Mac was a bit drunk and both loathing and loving his wife's imminent arrival in Korea. This manifested itself in drunken male-bonding and alternating hollers of, "it's great to be a man," and "it's great to have a dick!" All this noise and light brought local Koreans out several of whom said something too us, but it was too indistinct to understand and they soon became bored with watching the waeguks have fun. A bit later a second group came out to watch us including one guy with a flashlight and another who just stood behind us and watched (the photo of the watcher). One brave woman actually wandered down the embankment and cadged a beer of off us. She stayed only long enough to drink it, and then scarpered back up the encampment.

The entire scene was a bit surreal (particularly as it all took place under the watchful eye of a neon church-cross) and this was exacerbated by the fact that, just that day, there had been an oil spill in the rivulet, so the water was greasily reflective and covered in swirly patterns.

I went home and the first song on the iPod was "Right Next Door to Hell" which I thought was just about right.

In that sacreligious spirit I leave you with a picture of Thumper Mac committing acts of indecency as the cross upon which Jesus died to forgive our sin looks sadly down.


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Sunday, November 04, 2007

Biggish Day?

Today I head up with the BKF to Bigger City to meet with Yun-Hyang Lee of Ewha University and Vania Haam of the ATA Korean wing. I think this is something like a job interview at best and another character check at worst.

So I spent last night resurrecting a thing from the past, the "Briefcase full of BS." In this case it is a lovely brown-leather traveling case with my updated CV, two copies of my review of Cho Sehui's The Dwarf (for Ed, you know! It would be a coincidence if a copy happened to appear in front of the Women of Ewha. Coincidence I say), my new cards and several articles about Korean history and literature. Also, of course, a dog-eared and annotated copy of The Dwarf. Let's hope no one of the crew I'm meeting are of the "pristine book" religion.

In any case, as the plan was to pick me up at 9, the BKF will be here around 10 and then it will be off to whatever it is.

On the other side of this coin, the planning process at work seems to be going well, although I frequently find myself arguing on the side of the consultant and not my president, who occasionally goes OCD over some PowerPoint slide or arcane piece of data that is generally unimportant while we are still discussing meta issues. I also wish the consultant would learn to recognize when the president has dropped one of his little jewels (normally a metaphor he is proud of, a joke, or some story) so that the president would not have to continue repeating these until they are acknowledged. It really slows things down. Not so much as the Pres being in charge of the Powerpoint (it hurts to watch someone struggle to do something relatively simple. But you grab the mouse out of the President's manly and noble hand only at the risk of your continued employment).

Ah well... it's a lovely day in Big City and I have 30 minutes or so to enjoy before the Embassy arrives. And the landlady is gone all next week, so I shall have privacy.

For what, God knows, but it is good to know it is there.

Finally, my favorite self-absorbed blogger continues to struggle under the massive weight of the beauty and solemnity that she so gracefully carries...

My inner introvert lets out a sigh and bemoans the fact that I am already popular


Alas.. struggle on Namaste, struggle on!

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Saturday, October 13, 2007

My Favorite Self-Absorbed Blogger

Is Namaste by a mile.. Check out this classic
Guapo, as he henceforth shall be called, lives on a side of DC that is in the process of receiving what some folks like to call a remedial "face lift". I, for one, happen to feel right at home here. The first day after my arrival, we bellied up to the bar for breakfast at a place down the street, where Spanish is the first and only language and the fried plantains are simply divine. Further down the street, we continued our feast on enchiladas and two Coronas at a place where the jeans are skin tight and even the jukebox speaks Spanish. Guapo laughs good-naturedly that between my bus trips and grocery shopping adventures, I have become a rather popular figure in the local community. Four months in the Middle East have me haggling with the street vendors for better prices on mangos, which Guapo patiently says has nothing to do with my popularity..
Classic stuff. Her topic, barely disguised by self-serving cultural analysis, is her own "popularity." And babydoll can turn anything into herself, normally with a beautiful slap at some sort of un-named class she can't stand for not being cool. After all.. "some folks" like to call things a "remedial 'face lift'" and those are the people who don't like Spanish, beer for breakfast and skin-tight jeans.

Do you get it. Really GET it? Those people aren't cool.

Heck (Hell, maybe!), Namaste digs the urban scene "I'm one of those people who actually finds the American suburbs more creepy and disturbing than the alley where the local drug users leave their needles." She is the loner! She is "radically different within." She is "not a part of a herd."

These 300 or so words of self-stroking are a two paragraph introduction to a substantially shorter section in which she admits she likes the United States.... because it is more convenient for her to shop there...

Namaste, Namaste, all is Namaste... ;-)

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