You know, in many ways, people from very different societies can be surprisingly similar. Take Mississippi and compare it to Korea and you uncover a shocking pattern of cultural homogeneity. Since it is the New Year, and since most Western societies take the New Year much too seriously, pretty much world wide you can bet the day after, day of, day before, or the entire week leading up to and maybe even following New Years Day is going to be time away from work. What do people in Mississippi do when they get a day off?

You guessed it. Load the wife and kids into the Humvee, buy a cup of worms, drop your line in the water and forget about the world as you sip cold Budweiser by the pine-lined edge of a calm lake.



Well, in Korea the story isn't much different. Load the wife and kids onto your 125cc scooter, buy a cup of shrimp, drop your line in the water and forget about the world as you sip cold soju by the sheer granite shores of a tempestuous sea.



You can fish to your hearts content while the kids play in the tidal pools and your wife baits hooks on a nearby rock outcropping.



I made these photos while climbing around Amnam Park down around the southern tip of Pusan. As it is a new year and all, I decided to explore a part of the city that has remained a mystery for the past four months (Jesus, I've been here four months): Songdo.

Songdo is home to one of the oldest beaches in the city and many of my students live there, too. The first day of the year was unusually warm I thought to myself as I mounted my trusty steed (a $200 125cc Daelim Ninja) and sped off towards Nampo-dong. The traffic was light and friendly for once, and I crossed the old bridge without incident and turned southwest on my own for the first time since arriving here.

The tall buildings, traffic and cornicopia of flashing neon lights of Nampo-dong abruptly ended where the main road veered right towards Saha. To my left was the harbor, blocked by factory buildings, cranes, and smokestacks. To my right the modest neighborhoods of Songdo crept up the ridge of an unnamed mountain. My first glimpse of Songdo beach revealed the tiny figures of dozens of fishermen crowding the breakwaters extending into the harbor. They moved like ants against a backdrop of freighters in the harbor.

Down at the beach families took advantage of the break in the weather and wandered along the beach, the sunlight warming their skin. Old ajummas haunted the boardwalk, hocking dokpokki and icecream to hungry children.



A woman and her children attempted to fly a kite, but the sheltered beach was utterly devoid of atmospheric pressure deviations, and the flimsy, tailless plastic kite wouldn't go anywhere but down.





After a brief stop by the convenience store for water and an energy drink, I continued on my exploration of the southwestern tip of the city. The road from Songdo wound around the steep-sided mountain on it's southern side and deposited me in a shallow gap with a parking lot full of cars. I parked the bike and got off to investigate. It turns out I had stumbled across the famed Amnam Park, built December 30, 1972. At 562,500 square meters, it is one of the largest parks in Pusan, and sports a maze of well-groomed walking paths. I walked them for an hour or two, stopping to take the above photographs of people fishing.



As the sun began to fall lower in the sky, I set course for the last stop on my New Year's journey: Dadaepo. During her time here, Julie had pointed out Dadaepo many times on the map as we traveled around the city. It was hard to get to conventionally, being far from any train station, and to get there on foot would mean walking five kilometers or more on foot down the road running along the Nakdong River. The bike presented the solution, provided the weather was warm enough, and on New Years day just such a situation presented itself.

I sped along the long, wide road towards Dadaepo at a brisk 80KPH. At that speed the wind finds every tiny open crevice in my jacket, freezing the skin around my wrists, ankles, and neck. If had been even five degrees colder, the trip would have been impossible as frostbite would have set in around Nampo-dong. As it was, my body was happy to dismount the bike and begin walking some warmpth back into my limps upon arriving at Dadaepo.

Far from being empty, Dadaepo was alive with human presence. Couples and families crossed the wide expanse of dunes standing between the dokpokki stands and the waters' edge to take in the sunset and watch paraglider buzz overhead. In many places the sand was hard enough to bike on and on more than one occasion I saw a father or mother teaching a child how to ride a bicycle.







The scenes of people out and about in Busan reminded me of the Impressionist paintings I saw in my High School art history textbooks: French families sitting under willow trees by the Seine enjoying a kite, a blanket with bree and crackers, and the warm sunshine on their faces. All in all, I had to hand it to the Koreans: They know how to relax. They work hard, and when they get a break, they get outside and spend valuble time with their families. I admired their dedication to one another and the enterprising nature of their free time.

Well, that's the second installment of my blog. Tomorrow I will discuss developments at ESS and Mr. Kim's celebration of the New Year. I'll have some of the student's New Years resolutions, plus mine, and a whole lot more photos. Stay tuned, because Sokonotes doesn't stop here. The story goes on! Peace. --Notes