I would have posted this blog earlier, but I've been searching for Gavin's cats for the past hour or so. Oh, and I watched "Aliens." Love that movie. Game over, man!

No, I didn't forget the Korean Files. I just got distracted by living my life. Yes, I have a life.

"Campus notebooks contain the best ruled foolscape suitable for writing," (...Foolish things. Notebook)

"Casual of Unlimited Pleasure." (In my experience, casual usually leads to unlimited awkwardness down the road. Clothing store window).

It should be noted that when I cite a notebook as a source, I am referring to the material printed on the notebook, not something the child wrote. Millions of notebooks enter circulation with swill such as this stamped on the cover. Do the people who lay these covers out truly not think to pick up a phone and call their friendly neighborhood Native English Speaker and say, "Hey, does this make sense to you?" A few well-spent minutes could save a publishing company years of humiliation.

Hey look, a photograph.



I saw this lady on the way into Nampo-dong Christmas day. Christmas day. Nothing much happened Christmas day, which is EXACTLY the way I like it. Wake up, have a cup of coffee, screw around with my new camcorder, eat pancakes, drink more coffeeand goof off until I'm so fed up with myself that I shower, dress and kick myself out the door. Then I just catch a bus into town and do the same thing in public.



The real action was Saturday night. Before she sailed with the last of her kin for the Undying Lands of maple syrup, hockey legends and cheap beer, Julie spun a yarn for us in which she told of a magical microbrewery near Haeundae that served bottomless mugs of good, homemade beer beside a buffet overflowing with food for a piddling 16,000 won ($15).

Gavin and I suited up and mounted our weaving, speeding, four-wheeled chariot for the long, dangerous ride to Busan Station. No sooner had we stepped off the bus and entered Busan Station than we were swept up in a crush of holiday shoppers. In fact, everywhere we traveled this weekend, people filled every inch of available space.



In a later blog I will explain in detail my theory that Korea suffers from a country-wide case of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but for now just know that when I say Koreans are "space cadets" in public, I'm not playing around: This is the Land of The Terminally Unaware. People walk around like they're the only person in the whole universe. They stop, go, and window shop as if there weren't thousands of other Koreans crammed into the same tiny alleyway with them, careening off of one another like H²O particles in a glass of water.

A lot of foreigners who have lived here for a while like to joke about how some ajummas (old married women) will simply shove you aside if you happen to be in their way, and it's true. On the bus, in the subway, while waiting for coffee; it never fails: Some old lady physically shoves me out of the way so she can find her seat on the bus, train, or snag a cup of joe first.

Added to this problem is the total lack of social ettiquet. No one says 'excuse me.' No one politely says 'I'm sorry' after smashing your foot or apologizes following their subsequent collision with your camera bag. They just keep on walking like nothing happened.

Walking the streets of Busan became an endless game of "chicken" in which the Koreans never turned away. Notice how Gavin's shoulder is about to be buried in the shoulder of the man walking past him.



Gavin, God bless him, took the lead for most of the trip to Haeundae. He punched throug the crowds like an oil tanker lumbering through the fifty-foot waves in an Alaskan gale. With each subsequent collision and the ensuing vacuum of proper manners, Gavin and I got angrier and angrier. New Yorkers don't walk like this.

When people in the states collide with you, they apologize. What was with this rude behavior on the part of Koreans, a group of people who pride themselves on making everything 'just right.' I can't order a cup of coffee without it being perfect. My security guard always makes sure I put my garbage in the correct bin. If I ask for a Big Mac with no mayo, the girl behind the counter starts acting like I just insulted her mother. A Big Mac HAS MAYO YOU IGNORANT FOREIGN DEVIL!!!

As a person who suffers from obsessive-compulsive disorder, these are the unmistakable signs of my disease. I am living, literally, in my own psychological landscape.



As far as navigating this landscape, or should I say 'foolscape,' some had it better than others.



Other people took a break to recharge with soju and fried...squid.



It was hard to find a place to piss. When in doubt, just use the street.



After a brief stop in Seomyeon to geek out at the recently opened Apple Store, we caught a train for the long ride to Haeundae and booze heaven. The stop we wanted was actually the stop past Haeundae. Huge, empty luxury apartment complexes towered over us as we exited the station and stepped into the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the concrete canyons high overhead. The crowds were thinner and the stores were much more expensive than either Gavin or I could afford. I breezed through a Hillfiger "outlet" that sold thirty dollar kahkis for one-hundred and fifty bucks.

If it's Western in origin, expect the price to be huge.

After exploring this soulless landscape for a while, I began to contemplate the true meaning and purpose of Christmas. Living in a giant shopping mall will do that to you. Christmas. Christ. Giving. Love. Freedom. I just couldn't find these qualities in the Korean manifestation of Christmas. Every now and then we'd come across a church built like an afterthought between the monuments to consumeristic gluttony.



However, the spirit of Christmas seemed lost on the Koreans...At least from the perspective of that afternoon. A lot of the country is Christian, so I expected Christmas to be a bonanza of love, fellowship and giving. After a more careful analysis, it turns out that Christmas and Christ's birthday are seperate entities here. As far as I can tell, "Christmas" is interpreted to be this wierd Western holiday where it's perfectly alright to go nuts with one's credit card. "Christ's birthday" is wholy seperate, and it's celebration was much more subtle.

For example, I was walking through the Lotte Underground to work one morning (it's warm down there) when I came across a hardware salesman studying his Bible.



While checking my student's writing journals, I noticed that many of my students expresed dismay at receiving nothing for Christmas and yet spending hours and hours in church.

Dinner was somewhat of a disappointment. Our wanderings did, eventually, lead us to the microbrewery with it's cheesy German-sounding name, and we did, eventually, get 16,000 won's worth of beer. The buffet was a bitter disappointment. For the better part of the day my brain had been conjuring up this mythical feast of turkey, stuffing, and all the fixins.' I saw myself shoveling delicious food into my mouth while knockin' back beer after homemade beer. The beer was good. The canned, bottled, prefab food was nothing to write home about. Add to that more crowds of rude Koreans breaking in line to load up their plates with sausage without even saying 'excuse me.'

I got drunk...Reeeaaaaalllllyyyy drunk. Gavin too.

We went to Seomyeon for some good ole' fashion'd drunken aimless wandering. Well, not totally aimless. Enter random Korean couple.



They tapped us on the shoulder while we were discussing...something. It's strange how fast booze can turn the normally reserved Koreans into social party animals on par with the best of my party animal friends back home. One minute I'm walking with my friend through the streets of Seomyeon and the next I'm in a Hof drinking Cass with a Korean policeman and his girlfriend because they simply refused to let Gavin and I go without a drink.

An hour later I made the mistake of relating the Makalli Man. The Makalli man is this shop clerk at the quickie mart by my apartment. His job is to stock the booze shelves, but as far as I can tell he puts as much of the booze in his gut as in the refrigerator some nights. By the time I make it home every night around 10:30 he is absolutely plowed. As I try to buy eggs or Binches (crackers) or something he'll stumble towards me and invite me to a couple of rounds of Makalli - Unrefined rice wine.

It tastes like alcoholic yogurt (Gavin's words) and is the source for many a throbing headache. Still, I don't want to be rude, and I take a few shots with him, yelling "Kumbe!" as I clink paper cups with the old man in the freezing night air.

As I said before, I related this amusing story to the Korean couple. Their English wasn't all that good. I think all they heard was "Makalli" and "Kumbe!" Before Gavin or I could protest they wisked us off to a restaurant that served nothing BUT Makalli! Part of the reason they approached us was to practice their English. A couple of pitchers of beer and a bowl of Makalli or two was a small price to pay for some free English practice. All in all, I felt they were genuine people, and I appreciated their Christmas cheer. I went home happy that night.

Earlier in the week, Gavin and I treated our banker, Soo-ho, to dinner at my favorite Japanese restaurant. Soo-ho, who never attended a hagwon like ESS or studied extensively in school, is by far the best English speaking Korean I meet on a regular basis. He has walked me through complex tasks such as transferring money home and setting up an online bank account. He is a witty, affable man with a penchant for languages, and I thought it would be nice to take him to dinner in appreciation for all the help he's given me over the past few months.

Among other things my inquiring mind learned that night: Soo-ho has a girlfriend. This is big shit to the Koreans, as it means he might get married and finally get out of his parent's house. No, I'm serious. Koreans live with their parents until they get married. Soo-ho lives with his folks and his girlfriend lives with hers. Being the curious sort that I happen to be, I queried Soo-ho about his relationship further. How, exactly, do you find time or space to, er...?

"I guess that's why they have so many hotels," Gavin answered much later. Indeed.

Well, I got to go to bed. I got a camcorder for Christmas, and you know that means lots of fun for the viewers of SoKoNotes. I hope you all had a great Christmas, and I'll have lots of philosophic ruminating to dispense in my first update of 2006. Peace. --Notes