Caveat: 5 years and 13 days cancer free

I had a final checkup at the Cancer Center this morning. I got a CT scan with contrast medium, for upper body, head, and neck. 

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Before the scan, because of the contrast medium, I'm supposed to fast for 12 hours – so I was starving. After the scan was complete I went into the hospital's cafe and had an egg salad sandwich.

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I went to meet Dr Cho, the diagnostic oncologist, and he said everything is clear. I told him that I was leaving Korea, and he was very surprised. I think in previous visits I'd always implied that I felt like I would stay in Korea forever. We agreed that sometimes life takes us in unexpected directions. He wished me good luck, as did the staff at the radiology clinic, several of whom I know quite well.

I spent some extra time with the hospital bureaucracy so I could get a full medical record printout and DVD burned with all my info and scans. This will be helpful in the event of getting any necessary care related to my various permanent issues in the US or elsewhere. Here is my 5 year history – a half a ream of printed paper and a DVD.

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After leaving the hospital I took an hour and met a former coworker, Colin. Colin worked at Karma for a period of months a few years ago. We've sort of sporadically stayed in touch and he happens to live near the Cancer Center, so he saw I was there on facebook and suggested we meet up. We had coffee.

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Now later tonight, after academy close, we have our farewell dinner of everyone from work.

[daily log: walking, 11km]

Caveat: Farewell Dinner with the Keum Clan

My friend and boss, Mr Keum (Curt) and some of his extended family invited me to dinner last night.

We went to a place we've gone before – in fact, I went there with my mom and Curt's family in 2013.

We had dinner of 칼국수 and then coffee and dessert afterward.

Here's where we went.

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Here are the 4 kids (well, 2 kids, 2 teenagers) along with the food we were eating. They are two sets of siblings: two older cousins on the right, Nayun and Dayeon, and two younger cousins on the left, Doyeon and Baegang – each pair of siblings facing each other. I have taught ALL 4 of these children for many years. They are all smart. The oldest, Nayun, in the purple tshirt, I have known since 2007 when she was 5 years old, and the youngest, the only boy, Baegang, I saw as a newborn infant.

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In this last picture – this is the entire group. Curt and his brother, each of their wives and kids. Everyone kind of mixed together.

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I will miss all of them. They have all been very generous with me.

[daily log: walking, 7.5km; carrying heavy box to post office, 0.5km]

Caveat: Destiny, Destination

I don't have a lot to say today, and currently I have no new "pre-made" posts queued up for my blog.

So I'll recycle some old photographs, from my uncle's house in Alaska. I don't normally like to "repost" old stuff on my blog, but this is where I'm going to be living. Some people might be interested in that.

This photo is from a visit there in 2009.

This is standing at the back of the house, looking down the Port Saint Nicholas Fiord (an inlet of the Pacific Ocean), toward the hill called Sunny Hay, which has a patch of snow on it. The town of Craig is at the base of the hill to the left, behind the trees and across the water.

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These photos are from my visit there in 2016.

This is looking "up" the fiord, toward the center of the island at dawn. The house at lower right is my uncle's closest neighbor.

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This is looking down onto the dock at his house. Down in the boat is my uncle, Arthur. Standing on the dock, looking down, are Curt and I.

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[daily log: walking, 7.5km; carrying heavy box to post office, 0.5km]

Caveat: My own private DMZ

My packing progress reached a kind of milestone, today.

I have been doing a sort of "bubble sort" on my apartment. I divide things into piles, and go through piles doing a sort of "keep, give-away, trash, defer decision" classification on each item. Today, I implemented a broad categorization for the two non-trash categories. I have one side of the apartment classified as either "keep and send to the US" or "defer decision", and the other side of the apartment classified as "leave behind". The goal, of course, is that between trips to the post office and trips to the trash zone downstairs, these categories will finally result in only my packed luggage on the "keep" side, and everything else on the "leave" side so that I can have some friends over to help me dispose of it.

I took a picture.

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Everything on the left is "leave behind" and everything on the right is "still needs to sort" or "ready to send to US."

This doesn't include some items still in my closets, behind me in the picture. But I feel like the end state is within conception, now – and that's the first time I've felt that. I have 16 days left.

This reminds me a lot of the summer before I came to Korea, in 2007. I really spent all of August packing and sorting and organizing my stuff. And my storage unit in Minneapolis represents the frozen result of that effort. So now I'll have a new similar result – a bunch of boxes waiting for me in Alaska, and some suitcases, and the rest is abandoned.

I guess it's good to tackle this kind of thing once a decade or so. But I'm realizing that this is just phase one. Once back in the US, I'll have to go to Minnesota and repeat the process to get out of that storage unit.

[daily log: walking, 8km; carrying heavy box to post office, 0.5km]

Caveat: Signs or Omens

For the next three weeks, as I prepare my departure from the place I've called home for more than a decade, I will be making a daily trip to the post office. That's because it seems like the best way to get some of my possessions back home is to simply mail them. It may not the be the cheapest, but certainly I suspect it's the best compromise of price and convenience.

So I pack boxes and mail them – if I do one a day between now and my departure, that should be about right, I'm guessing. 

Today at my local post office branch, I saw this at the back entrance.

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I've circled in red the notable detail: that container is one of the US Post Office's proprietary containers. It's being used as an overflow trash can at a Seoul suburban post office.

I guess that's yet another sign to go back to the US, right?

[daily log: walking, 8km,; carrying heavy box to post office, 0.5km]

Caveat: The whys and wherefores with a side of ramen

Of course, my beloved uncle Arthur is the reason for this trip. He had a small stroke while working outdoors at his place in Alaska, and consequently fell down an embankment, breaking his neck (literally) and experiencing a concussion, with concomitant brain injury, impacting memory and cognition.

Alaska is not a good place to get treatment for those things, so he was air-ambulanced from Ketchikan down to Seattle, and upon discharge from the hospital he has been staying with our very close and long-term family friends who live west of Portland, Oregon. He has stayed here so many times before, over the last 30 years, that it is a familiar place with familiar people (both of which is helpful relative to the memory issues).

Anyway, that's just a short summary of why I'm here. Arthur is still just Arthur, despite the current situation – his personality is unchanged and in some situations you'd never realize what could be wrong.

Today we had Korean Shin Ramyeon (Korean-style spicy ramen, 신라면). Keith had said he liked ramen and I was telling him about spicy Korean style, which is different than the non-spicy Japanese style that is popular in the US. So when I saw the Shin Ramyeon on the shelf in the Fred Meyer store in Forest Grove the other day, I bought some. And today, we had it for lunch.

Arthur and Keith both liked it – I expected they would, because they both like spicy food, anyway. So we had a Korean 분식 (bunshik = fast food) lunch. Here's Arthur with his ramen. Note that he doesn't normally use chopsticks – he was hamming slightly for the camera.

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Later, I went to the airport and fetched my sister, who is flying up will be here after I leave to return to Korea on Friday.

[daily log: walking, 4km]

Caveat: Drivearound

I had a day off from riding along with Arthur to his appointments, because he didn't have any appointments. So I decided to go visit some of my other relatives and friends who are clustered in this part of the world. Actually, just based on that factor, I suppose that although I have never lived in the Portland region, it is nevertheless a kind of "hometown" for me. 

First I drove down to Eugene, which is actually a few hours, but I didn't mind – I enjoy road trips as long as they're not a requirement of my day-to-day life, and with not having a car in Korea, in fact I only do driving one week or two out of each year. So I headed down the west side of the Willamette Valley through McMinnville and Corvallis, and saw my aunt and uncle Janet and Bob – who are on my father's side and so unrelated to my maternal uncle Arthur, who is my main reason for this visit.

I enjoyed that visit, and the scattered fogs and periodic bouts of rain going down and back up the valley. I spent about 4 hours there, having coffee and talking, catching up on things. I really enjoy the company of Janet and Bob, and it's worth noting that they lived with us in Arcata when I an infant, and thus Janet was one of my first baby sitters, though I don't remember that as I was only an infant. 

I drove back up the east side of the Valley on I-5, through Albany and Salem and to Portland, where I met up with an old schoolmate Raven who lives there. We haven't in fact seen each other since high school, and in high school we were in different social circles so in fact we haven't interacted since grade school, but we were in the same class for two years in 5th and 6th grade. So it was interesting to sit and chat about such ancient times after so long. Then I drove back out to Forest Grove and met my cousin Jori (also on my father's side, my father's and Janet's niece from another Way family sibling, Freda). I had dinner with her and her husband at a Peruvian restaurant in Forest Grove. It was nostalgic to have Peruvian food, because when I lived in Long Beach I used to go to this Peruvian place with my coworkers that was nearby to where we were working on that big project in Costa Mesa. And I've always like Peruvian cuisine, which is hard to find in Korea. Go figure.

I was surprised to learn that my second cousin Philip (Jori's son, who is, incidentally, named for my father)  has recently become the proprietor of a pub in Forest Grove, which is a popular spot for students at the nearby Pacific University, which is where our family friend Juli (who I am staying with, here) has been a physics professor for so many years. So we had dessert (a chocolate creme brulee with strawberries) at the pub and chatted a little about how he's hoping to succeed with this new business venture. I was just impressed to think there is a relative of mine who owns a pub.

Here are some pictures.

Driving down the valley.

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With aunt Janet and Bob at their place.

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The hillside at Janet and Bob's place.

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Some impressively authentic Peruvian food. I had chaufa with some ceviche before that.

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My cousin Philip at the bar of his pub.

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A chocolate creme brulee with strawberries.

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[daily log: walking, 4km]

Caveat: A man who wears many hats

Today is the big show. It'll be a long day, but the end is in sight. The results will be what they are, and there's not much left to be done except just do the show.

Last night my student Gary, a third grader in one of the lower level classes, was putting in extra time preparing his role. He's kind of the main character for the particular little play that we're doing in that group, and as all the teachers have complained to me, the play is a bit difficult for their level. So he has a lot of English to memorize, and it's quite a bit beyond his level. In my defense, the students did choose the skit themselves, after having read through it and several easier choices several times. So they had some idea what they were getting into.

Gary was feeling pleased with himself because he'd managed to get it pretty well mastered. So he took ALL the animal hats that we are using as costumes for the skit and put them ALL on his head. 

I asked him if that meant he intended to memorize all the other roles, too. He quickly removed the hats, but not before I took a picture.

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Wish us luck.

[daily log: walking, 8km]

Caveat: Doubling Up

Lately, a new thing has been appearing on the wide avenues of Goyang: double-decker buses.

These seem only distantly related to the iconic double-deckers of London notoriety – I think they're a German make: M.A.N. Regardless, on certain highly traveled routes, like the 1100 (shown below) that connects Ilsan with Seoul Station (downtown), they're putting in an appearance. I expect once a domestic bus manufacturer (e.g. Hyundai) comes out with a model, they'll really take off. As an inveterate watcher of public transportation infrastructure, this is interesting for me.

The picture was taken on 중앙로 [Jungang-no = "Central Road"], just southeast of the Juyeop subway station, yesterday, as I walked home from work in the springtime drizzle.

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[daily log: walking, 1km]

Caveat: how often do you visit Seoul?

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My friend Peter visits Seoul more frequently than I do. Which might not seem like such a notable thing, except that I live 25 km away and can go on a subway or bus, while he lives in Washington, DC. 

So he stopped by on Sunday, using my apartment as a spot to leave his extra luggage so that he could be more mobile. I have no problem with that – he's been quite generous with me over the years, too.

This week has been pretty busy with work. Last night we had a 회식 (hweh-sik) after work, and on top of six classes in a back-to-back schedule, I was exhausted. We went to a galbi place, typical Korean fare, grilled at the table.

I am kind of tired and out-of-it today.

More later.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: On Canned Beans and Related Technology

I've been trying to eat more beans or other legumes and vegetable protein.

After my cancer, my weight dropped below 70 kg, but four years later I have completely bounced back to my pre-cancer weight equilibrium, which, frankly, I think is just a bit heavier than my ideal, which I'd put at around 75 kg, maybe. I'm currently about 84 kg.

Back in 2006-2007, when I successfully dropped from around 120 kg down to 80 kg, I did so through three main lifestyle changes: 1) walking everywhere as my primary mode of transport, 2) reducing stress by quitting that horrible job in Long Beach, and 3) eating an almost entirely vegan diet.

So, being vegan is not easy, and especially in Korea. In fact, I have no ideological interest in being vegan – therefore, for example, I have no issues with eating meat when out with coworkers or friends or whatever. Nevertheless, I recognize that less meat is probably healthier, and so I try to balance my daily diet toward vegetable proteins. The hardest thing, always, has been reducing or eliminating cheese intake – despite my lack of taste buds, there are still aspects of cheese that I enjoy, including the satiety it grants, the strong, nostalgic smell of things like mac and cheese or pizza, and whatever 'mouthfeel' is, I still experience that, too.

Anyway, all of that is background to mention I was going eat some beans, today, with my rice. And although I sometimes cook my beans from scratch, I also sometimes get lazy and use canned beans. The Korean market for canned beans doesn't run further than simple "pork and beans" type things, or I guess I've seen the native red beans pre-cooked in cans, but of course that product is painfully sweetened – like the red bean paste that is so popular here – I find such sugary prepared legumes almost unbearable (if you're not familiar with it, imagine some Mexican-style refried beans, with a cup of sugar added for good measure). So mostly if I buy canned beans I prefer to get Anglosphere brands (i.e. US or Australian products in Korean supermarkets). They're hardly expensive and easy to find, and so I buy them frequently.

Now, to talk about what I really wanted to talk about: I wanted to open my can of beans, imported from Australia.

Most canned foods, these days, have those "pop tops" – you pull the tab, the can opens. I don't, therefore, own a can opener.

But this can of beans I'd bought didn't – it had the old style top: just your plain surface tin can.

The convenience store downstairs in my building sells can openers – I've seen them there, in a little display with some other common simple housewares. But I have a different approach: a very "low tech" approach, that might be familiar to my grandfather's generation.

My pocket knife (a "Swiss Army Knife" as they're called) has as a can opener tab. It's quite useful, though entirely old-fashioned. You have to develop the right rhythm of push, tilt, advance, retreat, but you can walk it around an old-style can in about the same amount of time as with a normal manual can-opener.

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It occurred to me that despite being fully embedded in the 21st Century, with my computer stuff and my smartphone and my highly urban existence on the edges of the Seoul megalopolis, I still use this antiquated method of opening my canned food. And it's worth observing that that pocket knife is now 30 years old – I received it as a gift in 1988.

I snapped a picture (right). The can that I wanted to open, on the left, and a more typical 21st century can on the right, with my low-tech solution below.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: Inventing Secret Conspiracies

My friend Peter, who once lived here in Korea but is now a graduate student of Korean Studies in the US, dropped by on Friday morning. He travels back to Korea fairly regularly – which is a natural consequence of his major, I suppose. It's nice that he takes the time to visit.

We seem to always find a lot to talk about. He's one of the few people who can talk intelligently about Korean politics and religion, two topics that interest me but for which it's nearly impossible for me to find others who care – there's a certain need for caution when expressing opinions or ideas on these topics with my Korean colleagues, and most "foreigners" (people like me) seem genuinely uninterested in such things.

We spent some time concocting "just so" conspiracy theories (which I think neither of us would actually believe) about the "Korean deep state" vis-a-vis the weird preponderance of bizarre cults in South Korea and the North Korean situation. Or perhaps more accurately, I concocted and he encouraged me? Anyway, it's entertaining.

Here's Peter and I standing in front of the Karma sign in the little lobby, when he dropped by with me there.

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Here he is looking meditative over our lunch at the 본죽 [bonjuk = a chain of "juk" (congee Korean savory porridge) joints].

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[daily log: walking, 1km]

Caveat: Paskong Pinoy Sa Korea

Saturday, after work, I took the subway into the Myeongdong neighborhood in Seoul. My former coworker Razel (a naturalized Korean of Philippine origin) had invited me to a Philippine-Korean community Christmas event. It was quite interesting, from a cultural perspective. A well-integrated immigrant community, with diverse admixtures of Koreans and other foreigners, too. And a kind of mirror image of a US-style immigrant community: in the US, the adults speak whatever language they brought from their country-of-origin, and all the kids speak English; here, all the adults were speaking English (the Philippine lingua franca, after all) and Tagalog, while the kids were all speaking Korean.

There were activities, games for kids, some karaoke and Christmas carol singing (I even participated – go figure). There was an interesting "secret Santa" gift exchange, which I didn't participate because I was too disorganized to have brought a gift for the pool.

Although I never studied it, I find Tagalog weirdly "on the edge of understandable" because of its substantial English and Spanish borrowings in terms of vocabulary.

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[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: No thanks…

That's how I was feeling last night. It's Thanksgiving in the US, but it's just a regular day of work, here. And it was a particularly awful day at work. 

I was feeling incompetent as a teacher, and yet also frustrated with idiotic parents who complain about what I like to hope are good, research-supported teaching methods.

It was one of those fortunately rare days when I walk home daydreaming about quitting my job. I used to suffer that a lot. When I worked in those computer jobs, I literally spent every day daydreaming such things. In general, I stick with this teaching thing because I don't suffer those kinds of days so often.

So last night, I was thinking, "No thanks…"

This morning, there was a dusting of snow in my neighborhood. You can kind of see it on Jeongbal Hill, in the background, and on the trees in front of the maternity hospital in the foreground.

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So for that, thanks.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: Ah, the Fall, when the redwoods turn color and shed their leaves…- Wait, wut?

Below are some Ilsan redwoods (yellow-orange color, right-of-center) – in fact, they are planted instantiations of the Chinese "dawn redwood" (Metasequoia glyptostroboides), which shed their needles for the winter. Yet they have that redwood smell of the California coast redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens) of my childhood, and that familiar texture of bark and shape of needles. It's just exotic enough to remind me of what a long way I am from home, yet familiar enough to remind me of home. They are abundant in Korean suburbs.

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[daily log: walking, 3km]

Caveat: The Tissue-Paper Mummy Tradition

Every year, Karma English Academy has a Halloween party. The tradition has become that I run an activity room at the party, where visiting cohorts of students compete to make the best tissue paper mummy.

This year, this past Friday, some students in one class insisted that I should be the mummy. I allowed them, and two boys named Alex and Daho mummified me quite well. Daho took a picture of Alex taking a selfie with the mummy-teacher.

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Of all the student mummies produced, I believe Lucy was the best, as mummified by her friend Julia and Amy.

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Lucy was unusual of the student mummies, in that she didn't complain at all about being mummified. She seemed to enjoy it. She stayed perfectly still. This made her easier to mummify. One has to have a certain tolerance for claustrophobic feelings.

[daily log: walking, 1.5km]

Caveat: Karma Guy

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My student who goes by Michelle is a pretty talented caricaturist for a 2nd-grader. She drew this picture on the white board and told me it was me. I was impressed. I look like that dad character from the TV animated series "Family Guy."

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: That One Freaky Tree

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Walking around my neighborhood yesterday (picture at right), I saw this one tree, a few blocks from my apartment building (near the district prosecutor's office, behind the Lotte Department Store). 

The tree seemed to have been unclear on the signaling involved with respect to the arrival of fall. It's far ahead of any of its peers. Why this one tree?

I think I've also seen the same tree changing "too soon" in previous  seasons. Is it a genetic freak? Or maybe it's ensconced in some weird microclimate? Perhaps the district prosecutor's building exudes some strange air that tastes strongly of coming winter.

[daily log: walking, 1km]

Caveat: The Recovery

Yesterday I spent most of the day on an airplane. Although there's not much to do on an airplane except eat, sleep, read, and watch things on the video, it still always feels exhausting to me. I think it's just the rarefied air and body's intuitive apprehension of its own displacement. It's slow-motion teleportation, and it's unpleasant.

So I survived. I ran away from the airplane as soon as I got back, and the arrival, in the chaotic Korean tradition, was weirdly efficient. I am now home. I am not feeling particularly motivated.

Here is a picture from Brisbane, where I spent the night Wednesday night.

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Actually, that was the first time I visited there. I thought Brisbane wasn't bad, as small cities go – it reminded me of many US second-tier cities – San Diego or Austin or Minneapolis for that matter. The one thing that was unexpected was that the downtown is actually rather hilly. I had this impression, because of the map with its meandering river, that it was probably flat, but that was clearly a wrong conception. In that way, it was like St Paul – it looks flat on the map, but really isn't flat at all. 

[daily log: living, 52years]

Caveat: Touristic Behavior

Today being my last full day here at my mom's house, we decided to do some tourism type stuff.

We drove down to the rainforest at Mamu (Wooroonooran National Park) where I walked a trail and saw some rainforest and some mountains and a river valley. It was beautiful.

Then we drove to the "platypus park" at Malanda, where I saw some platypi. It was the first time – in all my visits to Australia, I've never actually seen a platypus. So now I have.

Then we drove to the Hasties Swamp, where there were many migratory birds, and we came back to Ravenshoe via Herberton.

I took a lot of pictures, but they are a bit scattered and I need to go through them on my phone. Perhaps I'll post some additional pictures after I have gone through them. For now, here is a quick snap of the cute Herberton post office building as we raced by in the car.

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[daily log: walking, 4km]

Caveat: sun-dappled goats, instead

I was feeling restless this morning.

So I took a long walk in the wind – up to the "T" in the road, which I estimate to be about 4.5km from my mom's front door. So it was a 9km walk, round trip.

I saw no wallabies. So I can only offer an unexotic assemblage of some sun-dappled goats, instead.

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[daily log: walking, 9km] 

Caveat: Wind. Cloud. Flower.

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The whole time I've been here, it has been quite windy. The skies have been mostly clear, just occasional clouds scudding by. A sustained period of windy days feels a bit unusual to me – Korea doesn't really have them, for more than a day or two at a time. So it's been a long time since I've experienced it.

My mother makes fires in her fireplace at night, though the temperatures drop to around 12 C (maybe 55 F) at lowest. I'm enjoying the cooler weather, though in fact the week before I left Korea we were having a taste of early fall, with a few nights at similar temperatures.

This morning is more overcast than it has been, with actual periods of sunlessness. The wind continues – the equinoctial clouds being herded up the Tully River gorge from the Pacific – over the sugar cane plantations on the coast, over the rainforest on the Eastern-facing slopes, and over this sclerophyllous plateau. Everything here is very dry. I went out to the driveway and took a picture of an orange flower hovering over lichen-covered rocks. In that moment, I could feel like I am in a poem by Robinson Jeffers, where place is stronger than species or idea.

[daily log: walking, 3km]

Caveat: Do Not Run

I didn't see a cassowary today.

I thought I might, because I went on a drive and walked around the rainforest at a national park (Mt Hypipamee) about 30 km north of here for a while.

Cassowaries are type of giant, flightless bird, maybe a bit emu-ish. Apparently they are somewhat dangerous (there was a sign that said, "Beware of cassowaries: Do not run" – I guess if you run they will chase you).

The closest I came to seeing a cassowary was a group of German tourists who claimed to have just seen one.

I did see a forest turkey. Some random pictures, below.

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[daily log: walking, 4.5km] 

Caveat: 家和萬事成

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I learned this aphorism from the Shamanism Museum on Friday.

가화만사성 (家和萬事成)
ga.hwa.man.sa.seong
home-harmonious-everything-achieve
A happy home can achieve anything.

It was on a sign board on an outside wall (picture at right).
The most notable thing at the museum, to me, was the extreme similarity and parallelism between these shamanistic accouterments and images and those I normally associate with Korean Buddhism. I suppose 1500 years of coexistence has led to extensive syncretism on both sides.
So I took some other pictures at the Shamanism museum.
There were some exhibits.
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There were various rooms.
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There were token examples of Nepalese and Tibeten shaman costumes, perhaps to justify the name “Museum of Shamanism” as opposed to “Museum of Korean Shamanism.”
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There were stylistic pseudo-Chinese decorative objects.
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There was a tranquil-looking back room.
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The museum’s location is in a newly developed neighborhood of typical Korean highrises, but the building itself is a historical site of some deified ancestor.
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[daily log: walking… uh, nope.]

Caveat: The museum was closed

Yesterday I went to Seoul to see my friend Peter. We had some lunch, and then ended up deciding to try to go to a "Shamanism Museum" that Peter had told me about before, and which interests me. It wasn't that far – it would have been 3 stops on the subway, but we decided to walk, which was 2-3 km. We skirted the southwestern edge of Bukhansan, the big mountain and park area that rises north of central Seoul, paralleling the line 3 subway, which is the one that comes out to Ilsan, too. It's pretty familiar territory.

We found the museum without difficulty, but it was closed. It seems to keep limited hours, a few weekday mornings only. So. 

We talked a lot, anyway, and it was a nice enough walk, as the clouds loomed and the monsoon was about to start. The rain started last night.

Here is a picture of the museum – it's in a very posh neighborhood of rather new high rise apartments.

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Here is a nice-looking gazebo amid some trees and greenery nearby. It's nothing old, but it's built in an old style and is quite pleasant.

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Maybe I'll try to go back, sometime, when it's open. Then I'd have more to write about.

[daily log: walking, 1.5km]  

Caveat: 청기와 장수

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I found this idiom in my book of aphorisms.

청기와 장수
cheong.gi.wa jang.su
blue-tile dealer
“Blue tile merchant”

This is a reference to some old Korean tale, I guess, wherein some guy made excellent blue tiles but refused to share the secret of his technique, so when he died no one knew how to make such great blue tiles. It means someone who keeps a trade secret or has some secret talent. Anyway, blue tile roofs are a very traditional high-quality style in Korea, up to and including the famous blue tile roof on the Presidential Palace, which gives the palace its name, called 청와대 [cheongwadae] – in English “Blue House.” At right is a picture of a temple in Suwon that I took in 2010, showing a blue tile roof.
I think this has more negative connotations than the English phrase, “A person of hidden talent.” In Western culture, I think this phrase is generally meant in a kind of admiration, or anyway saying that the person merits more admiration than we are currently giving. In the Korean, the semantics of the phrase seem to be focused instead on the person’s selfishness in the refusal to share knowledge or ability with the community.
[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: For Some Reasons

I suppose it must be a translation of a typical Korean way of phrasing things: my students almost universally will offer "for some reasons" when preparing to give a list of more than one reason for something. It makes sense, but it sounds unidiomatic in English. Being around it so much, however, it has become part of my idiolect, like some other Koreanisms, like starting a sentence with "By the way…" or "And then…" when those phrases aren't quite pragmatically appropriate.

By the way, I had a very hard week, this past week, for some reasons.

First, there was a lot to be done at work. Because I had to prepare more detailed versions of my syllabuses for my Elementary classes. Also, we had a business dinner. Also, Friday morning, I got some weird upset stomach thing, so I'm wondering if it was a mild food poisoning or something, since it passed fairly quickly, and it was unpleasant while it lasted.

And then, the week is finally over.

Nowadays, I am recovering from it.

It was lightly snowing this morning, but it doesn't show in this picture among the Hugok redwoods (deciduous "dawn redwoods," metasequoia).

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[daily log: walking, 7.5km]

Caveat: Stanville

Yesterday morning, I went into Seoul. I travel so rarely, these days, even to just go into the city for a half-day – it was the first time I've left Ilsan since returning from my North American odyssey last November. 

My friend Peter is on the Peninsula, now that he's a grad student specializing in Korean Studies, he has reasons to come back to visit, and apparently he managed to make it quite affordable. We met in that area around Dongdaemun that I have always called "Russiatown" – it's one of my favorite neighborhoods in Seoul, with much of the same "international" or cosmopolitan feel of, say Itaewon, but without the pretentiousness or gentrification, and fewer "fratboy" tourists, as the US soldier-on-leave crowd in Itaewon always seems to come off as. Nevertheless, I would say that "Russiatown" seems a bit gentrified, lately, too.

Anyway, my old standby, the Russian restaurant of the ever-changing name but fairly constant menu, was still there. Peter pointed out that it was in Russiatown in 2009 that we met for the very first time. I don't think I blogged that particular trip to Russiatown – I went rather frequently back in that era. Anyway, Peter and I had lunch at the restaurant, and then met a friend of his (colleague also enrolled in the same graduate program at Johns Hopkins, apparently) and went to Hongdae briefly, where I got to visit the Korean Language hagwon where Peter studied last year some. Peter is trying to persuade me, I think, to get more serious about my own regrettable progress in the language. Certainly I feel jealous of his amazing competence in the language relative to my own.

Then I went to work, taking the Gyeongui line subway route that follows the old railroad mainline to Ilsan Station. The line is several years old, now, but it still doesn't form part of my default mental map of how to get around.

Here are some pictures. I think Russiatown looks much more prosperous than it did 5 or 8 years ago. Still, there is much Cyrillic signage – not just in Russian but other central Asian languages typically written in Cyrillic, such as Mongolian, Uzbek, Kazakh and others. As I chatted with Peter, I coined a new name for the neighborhood: "Stanville." This reflects the Central Asian character as opposed to strictly Russian (all the "-stans" of the former Soviet sphere).

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Борщ и Голубцы (borscht and cabbage rolls).

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[daily log: walking, 7km]

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