Part Two: The After Par-Tay!

Where was I?  Oh yeah, on top of a mountain in Korea, naturally.

After enjoying the view, (but not the tranquility!  seriously, how many people are we going to cram on this summit?) Mr Park and I begin our descent of Dobongsan.  For this portion of the hike, he insists that I use one of his hiking poles.  He's pretty appalled with my state of unpreparedness ("your jogging shoes are incredibly inconvenient for the broken ankles!").

Quick aside:  Hiking is HUGE in Korea.  And in order to be a 'proper' hiker, you have to look the part.  I'm not talking looking like a rugged mountain man hiker.  It's more along the lines of, modeling for a Patagonia magazine hiker.  People are decked out head-to-toe in designer label hiking gear.  Women coordinate their gear with their lipstick, and with their husband's clothing.  In addition to the designer outerwear, they seem to have every possible hiking accessory ever made (and these are all, of course, color-coordinated).  i have no idea how much money is spent on hiking gear in Korea.  It seems though, that they have taken a universally accessible activity (walking, duh) and turned it into some sort of elite fashion showroom.

It's needless to say that I stood out for more then the normal reasons.

Well, with the aid of Mr Park's hiking stick, I successfully make it back down the mountain with both ankles intact.  He declares that it is now time to "celebrate, commemorate this momentous hike with some maekgeolli".  Maekgeolli is Korean rice wine, and apparently, all the other hikers are also celebrating with it.  At the bottom of the mountain there is a whole village of open air bars that are absolutely crammed full of hikers drinking!  And I'm not talking about 'oh let's have a quiet toast to the relaxing day'.  No.  These people are downing the maekgeolli like they're survivors of Everest.  FINALLY!  I've found the daytime party I've been dreaming of!

We find ourselves a table ("how comfortable, cozy, snug!") and immediately have a plethora of side dishes thrown in front of us, along with a cool, refreshing bottle of maekgeolli.  I don't know how to describe the stuff except to tell ya that it's delicious.  The atmosphere at the base of the mountain was just pure jubilee.  There just seems to be such a wonderful camaraderie between everyone. You know, the kind that comes naturally after you've all downed a few (many) cups of wine.

However things at our table turn a bit somber when I ask Mr Park's how he's been enjoying life since he retired as an electrical engineer.

"Ah!  Yes, electrical engineer... I must confess, I must admit something to you.  When I told you I was an electrical engineer, I was concealing some information from you.  In fact, I studied electrical engineering for three years, but before my final year in the University, I changed my mind to English literature.  In fact, ahh, oh I am so ashamed....  I am, I was an English teacher.  Can you believe that?!  Eck!  What a thing, no one could ever believe that about me!  With my English? No!  I am not qualified to teach that!  But for thirty seven years, that is what I did.
It is a shame.  I am ashamed...  I am a shame.  Do you know?!  In my whole life, you are only the third English-speaking foreigner I have spoken with?  And then today, I saw you, and I did not pause, I did not hesitate, because I wanted an opportunity to speak English.  But then, oh I am so ashamed of how I speak English, I did not want to tell you that I am an English teacher.  My whole life, other people, I tell them, yes I'm a teacher.  I teach Korean.  That, they can believe."

Wow. He's ashamed of his English?  I was (am still) shocked by this. Quite literally, this man is a walking thesaurus.  And, although his pronunciation is not great, at times he speaks with an impeccable British accent. (He was taught English at a time when having a British accent was more desirable).  And as I later found out during an extended Korean lesson from him, his understanding of grammar is incredible.  I would venture to say that he has a more thorough understanding of English grammar than almost all native English speakers.  Yep.  It's that good.

But what do you say to someone who thinks their entire career (and by extension, most of their life) is a shame?


Really, what do you say? Because somehow I feel that my attempt at encouragement fell short.

I guess that's what maekgeolli is for?

Mountain Par-tay! Part One: The Climb

Spring is finally FINALLY here!  We've had, from what I've been told, a relatively mild winter here in Korea.  However, we just have not been able to shake the cold weather!  While all my friends back in NYC and in the midwest are posting updates on facebook about their beautiful February picnics, we've been consistently well below freezing through all of March.  The cold just wouldn't let go!  But, this last weekend, we had our first days of real spring weather!  Highs in the mid-50's and nighttime lows in the upper 30's.  It's no tropical forecast, I know, but I'll take it!

I decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather by doing some hiking at Bukhansan National Park, on the outskirts of Seoul.  Hiking in Korea is incredibly convenient.  Sunday morning, I caught an express bus from in front of my apartment into Seoul, and then took the subway up to the base of the mountain.  The instructions I'd found on the internet for how to find the trail head told me "get off the subway, and follow the hordes of other hikers.  Do not be distracted by all the shops selling hiking gear and snacks."  Okay.  Those are pretty much the two biggest understatements I've ever read in travel advice.  "Hordes" doesn't even begin to describe the volume of people exiting the subway and marching towards the base of the mountain.   I felt like I was a tiny ant in a swarm of army ants in the jungle.  Like, if all these people had put their mind to it, they probably could have just picked the mountain up and carried it away.  And, "Do not be distracted"?  I used every bit of New Yorker-shopping-in-Chinatown-self defense tactics I know, and still ended up with a new backpack! (In my defense, when I got off the subway, I realized that my little canvas bag had developed a not-so-little hole, and that my Kindle, camera, and overstuffed wallet were all poking out of the hole.).  

So, equipped with a new bag, I edge my way into the flow of hikers.  Almost immediately, an older gentlemen starts talking to me in Korean. A LOT of Korean. I smile and nod, and respond "Hangguk, Aniyo" (Korean, No).  His response "Oh!  So do you speak English?"  

Annnnd we get to chatting.  He tells me: "You are here all alone, by yourself?  That is very rare, very different, not common, uncommon, to see a young lady hiking up the mountain by herself, all alone." (I'm thinking: Sir, have you looked around??? The last thing I am, is alone)  "I think, I suppose that it is not a good idea!  I think, perhaps, it is not safe for you! I would like to offer my services as your bodyguard, to you, as a patron of this mountain!"

Ummm, well, okay. I guess I should never turn down the offer of a bodyguard.  And, company is nice to have on a hike. So we start our journey up the mountain.  After about ten minutes of strolling up a very slight incline, Mr. Par-tay (I later find out his name is 'Park Tae', but I prefer Mr. Par-tay!) inquired about the time.  "Ah! 1:20, you say?  Well, if you concur, I think it is the time to take our lunch.  We will find a picnic rock, and eat our lunch!"  Hmmm, so I had planned to be up and down the mountain in just under three hours, so had not anticipated needing a lunch.  In my bag I had a few granola bars, a half eaten bag of pretzels and a liter of water.  Not exactly the makings for a picnic lunch.  Luckily, Mr Park came prepared.  And here is where I got my first insights into why the Korean hikers all have such massive hiking packs.

Once Mr Park located a satisfactory picnic rock, he starts disassembling his pack.  Out comes a foam mat that he unrolls for us to sit on.  Then, the food: a huge box of kimbap (Korean-style sushi rolls), a large bag of homemade kimchi, fresh homemade rice cakes ("my wife says, these aren't food- they're medicine!"), a large thermos of coffee, apples (Mr Park put on a pair of medical grade rubber gloves, wielded a very large, shiny knife, and declared "I am a specialist... of apple peeling!") and granola. "Just a little snack, a taste, hors d'oeuvres for our stomachs, so we don't starve on this hike!"  Right.  Hold on a minute while I enter a temporary food coma.

I snapped out of it, and we were able to carry on.  Good thing too, since we'd just barely started.  Mr Park was excellent company for a hike.  He's a very social guy, and kept up an ongoing banter with fellow hikers almost the entire time.  Often, though, he'd comment to me "I am trying to greet the others coming down, descending the mountain, but as you see, as you've observed, many of them, the majority, most- are not responding to me.  They are not cooperating!  Good thing I will not give up; I will persevere!"

"What?  I can't hear you!  There's terrible reception on the mountain!"

Maps are not necessary.  This is good, old-fashioned follow the leader

After awhile, we come upon a Buddhist temple built into the cliff walls.

Jaunbong Summit looming over the temple.  We're almost there!

Mr Park took me inside and showed me how to bow to Buddha.  I ask him if I can take photos inside the temple.  His response: "Yes! Of course!  Well, maybe not, but there are no guards here!  Go stand over there!"

 
After the Buddhist temple, the trail becomes steeper and the crowd thins out a little bit.  Lacking people to greet, Mr Park begins to serenade the hills.

In a cavern, in a canyon
excavating for a mine,
dwelt a miner, forty-niner
and his daughter, Clementine.

Oh my darling, oh my darling
Oh my darling, Clementine
Thou art lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine


"You know this song?  You know, very important time in the American history.  The men, they found, discovered very large nuggets of gold in the great state of California.  People from all over hurried, ran, rushed to the state to try to make their fortune in the mines, to get rich!  And that is why it was called the great gold rush!"

"Okay, here's another song.  This one, all the young, youthful people like this song.  It is very popular!"

When you're weary
feeling small
when tears are at your eyes
I will dry them all


I'm on your side
when times get rough
and friends just can't be found
like a bridge over troubled waters
I will lay me down


"Haha!  Can you imagine that?  Can you picture that?  Laying down like a bridge.  Simon and Garfunkel- you know them?  Very, very good music!"

Mr Park continues singing, we continue hiking, and eventually we start coming to some gorgeous vistas.

And then.... we make it!

My fearless leader, Mr Park

Stay tuned..... because this blog update is

to be continued..... 

Junk in the Trunk

Yoga, yoga, yoga.  WHY do I keep going back???

Anyways, I did.  And there was another new teacher.  This one is a super intense pilates instructor.  Finally!  This may be a class where I'm not the one flailing wildly, demanding all of the instructor's attention!  Because, what I lack in flexibility, I make up for in strength.  I'm one of the only people in the class who can do a push-up.

Yep.  One push-up puts me in the above-average category for strength.  So pilates class, here I come!



Ohhhhhh I should have known it wasn't going to be that great. While the instructor may have been impressed with my push up, she was not impressed with the muscle tone in my butt.  She made sure I understood this by repeatedly pinching my butt as we did infinity leg-raises.  Alright already!  I get it!  You don't like that I have an extra layer (or five) of padding on my behind.

So I left class, once again feeling slightly deflated.  Then, while changing in the locker room, one of the girls from class turns to me and says, "Hi!  Are you liking the yoga? Because I think, yes, it's helping you!  I saw you last week, no two week ago, and today I was looking at you from the back.  Your butt, well, it is still big, but I think that your arms are smaller!"

Oh jeez.  My Butt : The Conversation Starter.

That was all the motivation I need to stick to my running schedule.  At least when I run, no one's pinching me (yet).  And old men working at the Samsung factory like to clap for me, and throw the occasional 'thumbs-up'.