The Vacation, Part 2: “When I get old I wanna be a Fish Market Ajumma!”

I know we just talked yesterday and all, but I figured I should finally get around to telling the remainder of the epic that was our vacation around Korea. Plus, I don't have dick else to do. It's 9:30 am now and I don't have any classes until 1:30pm. I guess at some point today they are changing the fluorescent lights in the office, so there's the possibility of a major disaster, but that's probably just wishful thinking. But I digress. To the story at hand. When we last left our heroes they had survived the soju-filled dreams and desires of Seoul, rung in a new year in grand style, and gotten naked with the gym teacher's family (“Wow. Big.” “Thank you?”). Let's rejoin our heroes in the aftermath of the jimjilbang....

After the lovely, yet sometimes “different” times at the jimjilbang, we arose on Saturday January 3 with great hopes. Seoul had been incredible, and now we were heading to Busan. This was the first time in Busan for either of us, so visions of various types of badassery danced in both our heads. What wonders, what delights did this great unknown hold for us? Only time would tell. First things first, though. Reservations must be made for the temple stay for next weekend. As usual, Korea aspires to thwart your valiant heroes. The various English language sites set up by the bloody Korean government make mention of the Yongmunsa Temple, but say that the temple doesn't do temple stays. This I knew to be a lie, since fellow English teacher Carrie had already done a temple stay at the temple in question. After being run into the ground by the contradictions of the websites, we decided to call in the big guns: Jeong Dung Chun, the gym teacher. I explained our predicament and he graciously, as always, offered to help as well as feed us lunch before we hoped the bullet train to Busan. Lunch and reservations were had by all, as well as more combing of Alyse's hair by the rugrats and pulling out of my hair and “low blows” by the same source. I just gotta keep telling myself what doesn't kill me, only makes me stronger. With that behind us, we headed to the train station and from there we began the quest to Busan. Our train trip to Seoul was more eventful than usual, as we happened to run into the students of an infamous fellow foreign teacher. We shared the standing room only area with several students who we heard whispering various English words and what not. In Korea, most kids are so afraid to speak English that they have to pump themselves up for 15 minutes or so before they actually speak, so we knew what was inevitably coming. Finally, one of the brave souls stepped up and asked us where we were from. Eventually, I made mention of the fact that I'm an English teacher and they naturally started asking me if I knew their teacher, you know, cuz I know every foreigner. Turns out I did. They mentioned that their teacher had red hair and that his name was “Br...Brinley”. Ohh, you mean Brynley? Yeah, Yeah. That's right our flame-haired party animal, Brynley. Alyse decided that to break the ice or just for shits and giggles, she would show the kids the picture on her camera of Brnley passed out from New Year's. I wasn't so sure if that was a good idea, but the kids ate it up. “Wow, Brynley teacher drinking?” I had forgotten that binge drinking is incredibly cool to kids. Well, binge drinking is always cool. I heard from Brynley several days later that some of his students had a picture of me on their camera phone and that his popularity had risen even further thanks to the drinking picture. So everything worked out for the best. Hahah. With that out of the way, we were free to move on to Seoul, then onto Busan. God, I love that you can go from corner to corner in this country in 3 hours for 40 bucks. Kickass. Once in Busan, we set out to find ourselves a hotel. We decided on the Haeundae Beach area since it is home to numerous love motels due to the popularity of the beach in the summer. Since you have no idea of what the rooms look like without actually paying for them we were hesitant to pick one. Finally, we settled on the Picasso Hotel (side note, all love motels have English names, like Sicily, Manhattan, New York, usually more exotic locations than Korea) and were pleasantly surprised with what we got for 50,000 won (40 bucks or so). They even gave us a bag with all the hygienic products we would need. I laughed when I saw they had included a condom in the bag, then I remembered that we were in a love motel. To further prove that we were indeed in a love motel, the room came with a coin-operated condom dispenser. Awesome. No dildo machines in the staircases like I had heard some have. Darn. Next up was finding food. Through the highly scientific and foolproof method of enne-meene-minne-mo we selected a seafood restaurant in which to dine. Once inside we were treated to the sweetest little lady waitress. I know I keep saying this, but these ladies just keep raising the bar each time. She tried to talk to us with her limited English and was absolutely in awe of Alyse's hair. It's just so, so blonde. When the meal finally came and the waitress saw that Alyse was struggling with her chopsticks (she wasn't so good when she got there, she improved drastically by the time she left), so she just fed Alyse the food for her. Awwwwwww. Just adorable. With dinner behind us, we moved on to the drinking. What? We're both from Wisconsin. What the hell else would you do after dinner? Don't judge us. This time around we decided to get a little bit more bang for our buck, so we went the convenience store liquor route. Only problem: all the bottles here are pop-off, no twist-offs. Meaning we needed a bottle opener. That we didn't have. Since neither of us are pros at popping tops off on tables or with our teeth, we hit the streets to find a bottle opener. Eventually we found one and the drinking commenced.

Jan 4th saw us heading to the famous Jalgalchi Fish Market. Immediately we were bombarded with all the sights, sounds, and obviously, smells. Blocks and blocks of small stands all run by little old Korean ladies (ajumma is a Korean word for an older woman, used to be a term of respect and honor, now its just a specific way to call someone old). Alyse was so taken by the whole spectacle that she uttered the title line for this post. She decided that when she gets old she's gonna come back and work at the fish market with the other little old ladies. Interesting career choice. We quickly found our way to one of the street vendors nearby, cuz street food rocks. We settled on a deep fried hot-dog looking thing on a stick, which turned out to be fish of some sort and really delicious. I dropped a bunch of mine and was quite saddened by it. Alyse suggested that I institute the 5 second rule, but seeing the amount of fish gut/blood/stuff run-off on the ground, I decided against it. After more wandering and a stop at a candy stand (yeah, there was someone selling candys...they were delicious in case you were wondering), we stopped at a stand for some breakfast. I quickly noticed that we were sharing the “restaurant” with a middle aged man who clearly appeared to have had way too much soju (even though it was only 11am or so) and seemed to have taken quite an interest in Alyse. Ohhhhhhh boy. Eventually he summoned the liquid courage to start chatting with us and eventually asked me to take a picture of Alyse and him. It started innocently enough (well sort of), as he moved in close and gave her a kiss on the cheek for the first pic. Then, for the second picture he tested his luck even further. As I prepared to take the shot, he tried to move in and plant on directly on Alyse's lips. Alyse, having had quite enough of the old man/soju smell (here those two things are one and the same), shut him down with a two handed shove to the face, then quickly moved back to her seat, far away from Romeo. I'm not sure how I was supposed to respond to this. I probably should have yelled at the old coot or something to defend the goodly lady's honor, but I was laughing too hard to do much of anything. Korea, Korea, you horndog. Having experienced everything (and more) that the fish market had to offer, we moved on to Yongdusan Park and Busan Tower. The park was fun and all, but the highlight was definitely when a Korean man started talking to us in pretty good English. We soon discovered that he had learned most of his English from movies and was not too shy to tell us a joke he had memorized verbatim from a Sly Stallone film. He really liked Sly Stallone movies. The joke was actually pretty good, with a solid moral behind it to boot. “Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy and not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend”. I never knew Sly was so deep. Learn something everyday. From there we headed to Taejongdae Park on the southern most tip of Busan. As you can tell from the overwhelming amount of videos that I took there, I found it incredibly beautiful. Alyse and I had quite a laugh at her travel book's expense, as it had set up the park as something really unimpressive, that you could do if you had time, you know, and you didn't have anything else to do. Seriously, what Taejongdae Park were you visiting? The most interesting aspect of the park was definitely the little old ladies who had literally set up shop right on the rock beach. They had their pots all set for cooking up some delicious grub and the customers sat on the rocks mere feet from the water. I guess I shouldn't be surprised by the things that those persistent ajummas can pull off. They are a mighty force. Once back in town, we headed back to the fish market for a delicious meal of sashimi, clams and other fishies. We really didn't have any choice in the matter, as when we passed one particular booth we were strong armed into sitting down and eating. Literally. He grabbed us by the arm and sat us down. They are not shy about pulling in customers here. Second verse, same as the first. We ended dinner and decided to close the evening with, what else, alcohol.

Monday, January 5th saw us rising much earlier than usual in order to catch the sunrise from Haedong Yonggunsa Temple on Busan's eastern coast. When they said in my travel book that the temple was on the water, I was skeptical about how close that really meant. Really fucking close apparently. Here's the temple, here's the ocean. The view was more than worth the jaunt to get there from our hotel. I took plenty of videos of the sun poking his head up, so all of you back in Wisconsin, where you haven't seen the sun since October, November, maybe, could remember what it looks like. You are most welcome. Having seen all that we wished to see in Busan, we headed to “the largest spa in Asia” (supposedly) for some chillaxing. Wow, what a place. I've been to my fair share of spa/jimjilbangs here in Korea but man, this one was leagues beyond anything I had seen. For starters, you paid when you left and you just charged stuff to your wristband/locker key rather than having to carry around cash. Cool, but can get kinda pricey. The actual spa/baths. Wow. Technically 2 floors of baths of every kind. Salt baths, jasmine baths, the standard baths, champagne (seriously?) baths, small swimming pool (they usually have these), some kind of woodchip or something bath (all I can say for that one is its different), and an ex foliating area. Am I forgetting anything? Don't think so. Wait, no, they also had an outdoor patio for the heartier of folk to enjoy a hot jasmine bath in 30 degree temperatures, then “cool” down in a bath at or around the same temp as the air. The “relaxing” area was no less impressive, with several sauna rooms accompanied by an ice room, various massage rooms, hot stone rooms (I guess it was supposed to be relaxing, but I just walked out of it with scalded skin where the stones were laying...probably weren't supposed to be contacting bare skin...hmmm), several specially oxygenated or pressurized rooms for resting, and a spot where you could have fish nibble the dead skin off your feet. Yup, for 3,000 won (less than 3 bucks) and 20 minutes you too can torture small fish with the stink from your feet. I declined on the grounds that it would consist animal cruelty to subject them to my feet. I like animals too much to do that to them. Having relaxed sufficiently, we moved to the ferry terminal to ensure transit to Jeju. Before boarding we managed to sneak in yet another dinner in a shady/sketchy/grungy restaurant as well as pick up booze for our time at sea. This dinner was unique, as it was the only time that Alyse said she felt uncomfortable in our environs, despite spending considerable time in less than classy establishments. I think her discomfort might have had something to do with the table next to us that happened to be filled with loud and presumably drunk Korean men who were eye-fucking the shit out of poor Alyse. But then again I could be mistaken. Once aboard the cozy confines of the Seolbongho ferry, the party was on. We spent the better part of an hour just admiring the setup of the place. Room: bigger and more impressive than expected. The ferry, in a word: pimp. Restaurant? Check. Bar? Check. Dance floor? Check. Noraebang rooms (kareoke rooms, for the uninitiated)? Umm, we are still in Korea, so of course. From there it was back to the room for more drinking and resting up in anticipation of our landing on the “Hawaii of Korea” (haha, I read somewhere that that is what some Koreans affectionately call it...I politely disagree). This is gonna rock.

January 6th should be wiped off the calendar forever. Add another day to February, they seem to be pretty low, to balance out. Do something. Do anything. Just punish January 6th for its crimes. Seriously, January 6th, what did I ever do to you? This “unpleasant” day started going south from the first second. I should probably explain that the ferry trip takes 11 hours, leaving port in Busan at 7pm and arriving into Jeju-si at 6am. Nice easy ferry ride, and it goes quickly since you just sleep for most of the trip. Or you are supposed to. My suffering actually began about 11pm the night before. With Alyse having crashed at 9:30 or 10pm, I was left with quiet (uggg, finally!) so I could read. Somewhere around 10:30pm I decided to call it a night and settled in myself, unaware the horrors awaiting just around the corner, or more literally, in 30 minutes. At 11pm I promptly woke up and began probably the worst 7 or so hours of my life. Due to either very choppy seas or too much booze or bad food or some lethal combination of the three, I awoke knowing full well that I had mere seconds to reach the privy before I lost my lunch, dinner and everything in between. I succeeded in reaching the toilet just in time to begin a symphony that may have sounded something like whales having sex. Don't really if that's true since I don't spend much time with whales. Fine, alright. So you threw up, big deal. Why all the drama? Well, after 15 minutes or so I was well enough to return to my bed and went back to sleep. 'Cept I was not destined to stay asleep, as I woke again after 15 minutes and began an ungodly cycle that continued for the remainder of my time on the boat: throw up for 15 minutes, sleep (more like try to sleep) for 15 minutes, repeat. Let me once again stress that this began at 11pm and the boat wasn't slotted to reach port until 6am. My body, not content to merely expel substances from just one orifice, began, during the second or third session at the can, to loosen products of a brown persuasion from my hindquarters. But even that wasn't for my body, as at one point, while already sitting on the toilet with a garbage can in my lap, my nose began to run profusely. Fuck me. Well, as one might expect, I quickly became quite exhausted/dehydrated/weak, so I attempted to at least combat one of my conditions, that being dehydration since I couldn't do much about the fatigue and overall weakness. Alack alas, I could not even keep down water. My absolute lowest point did not arrive until around 3am, when I decided (I cling to fatigue/exhaustion as the excuse for my absolute lack of brain function and overall stupidity here) that I really had to fart. For those not in the know, forcing out a fart is never a good idea, but it becomes even less of a good idea when you lost your bowel control hours before. As one would expect, and those readers who are faint of heart are certainly dreading, I ruined a perfectly good pair of boxers. I can only take a small amount of satisfaction in knowing that some janitor's day was ruined by the disaster he stumbled upon within that bathroom and within that unsuspecting garbage can (the final resting place of my beloved undergarments...also a different can than I used for vomit). Eventually, the ferry made it to port and we disembarked. I should mention here that Alyse slept through night without any issue (thank Buddha, Shiva, or whoever for small victories, as I most certainly did not want Alyse to see in in that state) and was shocked to find me ghastly and specter-like when she woke. With much effort I managed to disembark from the boat and make it to the terminal, though it did take several stops and rests. Safely off that vessel from Hades, I rested in the terminal for 30 minutes while I drank water and ate rice cakes provided by one Ms. Pfeil. I greatly appreciated her care and concern for me during my weaker moments. I do not know where I would have been without it. After considerable time, we reached our accommodations for the duration of our Jeju trip and I went to bed. Alyse, being the gracious caregiver, offered to stay at the room while I rested but I refused to have her waste her precious vacation for me. So while she marveled in the spectacle that is Jeju Loveland (a adult-themed art exhibit created by several art students from Hongik University in Seoul), I slept. At around 2, we met up at the room, me having regained consciousness and Alyse having returned from Loveland, and I decided that I was well enough to head out for sightseeing. It was not meant to be, as I began feeling awful and weak when we reached the bus station and had to have a cab take us back to the room. After another hour trying to to compose myself, I finally admitted defeat and decided that I needed to go to the hospital to get checked out. If you are ever sick in Jeju, go to Jeju University Hospital. The doctors are quite satisfactory and they speak quite good English (which was a surprise given the absolute absence of it anywhere else on the island). At 6 pm I checked myself into the hospital and was promptly put on an I.V. Drip. I'm glad that the patients and doctors had more scruples than many in Korea. I was concerned that I would have a considerable gallery wanting to know what a sick whitey looks like. I was not excited about the idea of Koreans poking me to find out if whiteys do indeed have 2 hearts, 5 lungs, and acid blood, like they hear told in the stories. So began my road to recovery. Or so I hoped...

Ohh no, what misadventures and pitfalls have our heroes fallen into this time. How will they ever get themselves out of this mess? Will Eric survive his sickness and return to his mighty self? Will Alyse be able to find her way around Korea with her trusty translator (albeit, a really shitty one)? Will the won ever recover to a decent conversion rate compared to the dollar so that American foreign teachers can make some money? Will the Brewers be any good this season? Stick around for the next thrilling installment to get all these answers (well, maybe not all) and more. This episode brought to you by Cass premium lager. CASSSSSSSS!!!! The sound of vitality!!! Delicious!!!!