Me: Hey, you should hook me up with some of your date's friends!
Tech Guy: Really? Are you sure? Because her friends are...um...they like Jesus.
Me: Oh....that's okay. I can change.
Tech Guy: Really? You would change?
Me: No.
Well played friend, well played. You understand ohhh so well and yet I've known you for such a short time. So it probably won't work out with his date's friends. But at least he'll be praying for me. And having J.C. on my team is never a bad thing, since the ladies love J.C.
Ride on my brother. You've earned it. People like you make me feel really good about the future of Korea.
Now on to the trip with my school. Back in mid-July, when the semester ended, our school decided to take a trip to the beach for relaxing and drinking (I presumed). So at 10am on the last Friday of the semester, we set off. Collin, the other foreign teacher, and I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into because, well, nobody had really told us anything. We knew that we were heading to somewhere near Boryeong Beach, which seemed like the worst time to come, as the biggest foreigner party/festival started the next day. Mud Fest, as it is called, is basically an excuse for people of all races, but mostly foreigners, to lounge around a beach, play in the water and get shit faced drunk. All the stories I've heard of it make it sound like the Korean equivalent of Spring Break. As you might imagine, I didn't really wanna be anywhere near it. We were arriving Friday afternoon and staying until Saturday afternoon, while the 2 week festival didn't really start (officially) until Saturday evening, but I still didn't like my chances for walking the beach and not running into really shady characters. But then the rain solved all of that. More on that later.
While on the bus, the foreigners kept to themselves, reading for most of the ride and avoiding everybody else. I think we would have felt worse about avoiding everybody if our co-teachers weren't in engaged in scintillating conversations about their husbands, their kids, their diets, or their clothes (they are all female) and the men on the bus weren't drinking their boredom away. Generally, I avoid the liquor in the A.M. and so far that wisdom has worked pretty well for me.
As for the rest of the 4 or 5 hours on the bus, the highlight was when we stopped at a rest station and I found the much too small swingset around the back of the station. Sure, its a little difficult to swing when you have to tuck your legs against your chest just so they don't drag on the ground and kill all your momentum when you swing through, but it was so worth it. And the old thing didn't break or kill me or anything, despite the all too frequent shudders and groaning noises coming from the swingset.
Thanks to the rain, that swinging was nearly the highlight of the entire trip. I had forgotten we were in the middle of the summer monsoon season, meaning that whatever you try to do, indoors or out, the rain will cock block it. Just how it goes. Our first item on the itinerary was to travel to some rather famous ski slope, obviously closed to skiing in July, ride the cable car/lift to the top and then hike around for several hours. Nature, you say? I'm in. However, we got shut down. So after waiting around at the slope for 30 minutes for the place to open up, and watching several of the male teachers become so bored (or so drunk?) that they started playing soccer with an empty beer can, we were informed that due to all the lightning and storms that were hanging around at the top, they wouldn't allow anybody up, for obvious safety reasons. Apparently mountains are quite high and thus make them a high risk for lightning strikes, which I'm told are bad. Boo, as it seemed like it would be really pretty.
This cancellation put us in a bit of a bind, as we had slotted 3 or 4 hours for trekking around up there. In a bit of a scramble, somebody managed to discover that there was a Wine Brewery nearby, where they kept and possibly brewed the stuff in a cave. Cool, but how are we gonna burn 3 or 4 hours there? I mean, I'm sure we tour the place then get a quick sample or something and are on our way in 30 minutes.....Ohhh, stay and buy some bottles of wine, you say. But to what end? What's that? Drink enough of them and almost anything will seem fun enough to waste 3 or 4 hours doing?....That just might work. Sadly, it did turn out to be the quick wander in, sample some wine, buy some bottles and leave. Ohhh well. I guess we had just resigned to the fact that we would be arriving at our hotel several hours early.
After more driving, we arrived at our hotel, only to find out it wasn't actually a hotel. My understanding of it was that it's a Seoul Office of Education training center/retreat complex and our school rented out several rooms for this particular weekend. Meaning that rather than a comfy bed, I would be sleeping on the floor, old school like. But its okay, as I'll be sleeping like a baby on those floor mats. You know, waking up innumerable times during the night, crying incessantly, and occasionally soiling my diapers. Ohhh, that's not what that expression means??? OOPs.
Being as we were a few hours earlier than we expected, we could have wandered around town and killed some time. Thankfully, somebody in charge had their head on straight and we immediately moved into the most important aspects of the trip. Namely the eating and drinking to excess. Once everybody was squared away in their proper rooms and had stowed their bags, the party moved towards dinner. We could have wandered the beach and most everybody really wanted to do just that, but again the heavy rain was having none of that. Straight away to dinner it is.
Dinner itself was the standard deal. Lots of food, lots of kimchi, lots of amazement about how much food I can eat, lots of men getting hammered and trying to get me to drink with them (it never works). There was, however, plenty of discussion about this "balloon volleyball" that the teachers would be playing immediately after dinner ended. As expected, Colin and I were out of the loop, meaning we were trying to figure out what the hell "balloon volleyball" even is and whose team we were on. As it turned out, balloon volleyball was exactly what it sounded like. Using one of the school's sleeping rooms, we would move some sort of obstacle into the middle to separate the two halves, then teams of two would play volleyball against each other. 3 touches per team, if the ball hits the ground the other team scores the point, etc. Rules are the same, except for the one about the men on the team having to play on the back line. Given that we are playing with a balloon, you would be correct to assume the back line players don't have to do a whole lot of anything.
Now, I thought, because this was a nice relaxing trip/retreat that folks wouldn't really care much about this silly little volleyball tourney. Man, was I wrong as usual. These people really need more competitive outlets in their lives, as it was pretty nutty watching this shit. Our team, in order to get some practice time before the matches, casually disappeared from dinner early (we really did). Colin and I happened to be on the same team and the real battle was to see who between us was less interested in the competition. It was pretty close, but I think he won. We trained with the rest of the subject teachers from the office, who weren't on our team, but again, we really didn't care. As for the training, it consisted of me lightly setting the balloon for the ladies at the front to spike. As you might imagine that required little to no effort on my part. Since it was a balloon there wasn't any need to rush to position myself properly for the contact, then all I had to do was very lightly tap the balloon over to the ladies in the front line to wack the hell out of. The ladies, on the other hand, couldn't have been more focused. They discussed how hard to hit the balloon, where on the court to aim it, whether open palm or closed fist was better for striking the ball, etc. Again nutty.
Soon enough, the games started and knew we wouldn't be doing anything in the back. That and the fellow teachers were insane. Arguing over calls, rule changes and clarifications, general bickering, sweating, you name it, it happened. And the women up front? Terrifying. The organizers had decided to use a coffee table as the dividing line, meaning the ball could fall and just rest on the table during matches while still being in play, which lead to numerous scrums and dogpiles and pileups on the table itself. The lack of concern for one's wellbeing, the aggression, the brutality....it reminded me of a rugby scrum.
Our game was no exception. Colin and I had been paired up with some ladies from the administration office and they controlled the balloon for about 99.9% of the time. In truth, I think I touched the balloon all of 4 times during the entire match. But really with 3 bloodthirsty ladies up front, how exactly is the balloon supposed to get to me? We started strong, going up 7-2 in a first to 10 game, only to lose 10-9 or something. Just like that, it was over. Colin and I had exchanged numerous glances during the match and it appeared we were feeling the same thing. Namely "What the fuck?" and "Huh?" and other expressions of incredible confusion. So we decided to use this free time to wander the beach and find some much needed peace and quiet.
As luck would have it, the rain had finally stopped. However, it was 11pm, so that made picture taking quite difficult, but still the beach walk was well worth it. The rain had kept the people at bay, so we had the beach mostly to our selves. No run ins with US soldiers, no run ins with meathead English teachers, no nothing. And for that I can be thankful. Here some shots from my night photo-deficient camera.
At this point things got fairly interesting, as Collin and I were called back to the dorm/hotel by Collin's co-teacher to hang out with the rest of the team. We were more than a bit unsure as to what was up, as the rest of our team was female and spoke minimal English, so what exactly would be accomplished was beyond us. Turns out they just wanted to drink with us. Although that was pretty surprising in itself, as Korean women usually seem uncomfortable drinking around men. Not like I can blame them. Hell, I feel uncomfortable just being around drunken Korean men (por ejemplo at school dinners) and I'm not even of the opposite sex. Then again, I have gotten some suspicious attention from the fellas at said events. Terrifying....or arousing? Could go either way.
Even being invited to such a event was quite the compliment. "I don't think you will drink yourself to a blackout or become a creepy skuzzball if you do happen to reach said blackout." Damn, that's gotta be nearly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I prefer to imagine that they invited us, well me specifically, because the ladies just wanna stare at my beautiful face while listening to beautiful English words spill out of my beautiful mouth. Sadly, that probably isn't true.
Throughout the course of the drinking and game playing, I made sure to avoid as much alcohol as possible, probably due to my fear of drinking games. I assume my fear of such games stems from the first drinking game I ever played way back in Oshkosh which was named, unbeknown-est to me, "Let's shit on Wallin and make him drink alot". Frankly, I don't see my fear of drinking games to be that unusual really. Not like I had much to worry about with this crowd. Small Korean women with minimal tolerance? Exactly. Then there was poor Collin. The ladies would discuss and explain the rules of the game in Korean, meaning I could pull out the details for the most part, but Collin? Looked like a sad little confused puppy with a bunch of beers being sent his way. No idea what was going on.
Don't worry it gets more interesting. During one particular game, which required counting up to 31 (in English as Colin didn't know enough Korean to play that way), the young secretary messed up the counting. "13, 14, 19". Easy enough mistake to make, but still hilarious to everybody else, as we all work with 10 year olds that could do that in their sleep. She didn't seem to appreciate me laughing at her (getting laughed at for a second language mistake by someone who never, ever speaks Korean does seem pretty douchy, now that I think about it), and took some surprising action about it. She turned to me (we were sitting next to each other), looked me square in the face, hellbent on causing some pain (I could see the death in her eyes!), then abruptly grabbed me by the shirt collar and looked ready to haul off and smack me. Or at least that's the reasoning I'll give myself for flinching when she grabbed my shirt. I'm a wuss, what can I say? Although a lifetime of getting beat up by women would do that ya. She never did hit me though, only stared me down, then let go of the shirt while muttering under her breath about how we should play in Korean.
And what pray tell, do you think my reaction to this encounter? (Hint: it shouldn't be too hard to figure out)
If you said something about me instantly being attracted to her, you would be right. I am a masochist who seems to gravitate towards crazy or seemingly crazy womenz. In my defense though, the amount of women here that don't follow the cutesy/innocent/sweet girl act appears to be so small that finding someone that breaks that mold is really something to get excited about.
The next day, on our way back to Seoul, we stopped in at art gallery/greenhouse/place of wonder outside of town. Again, we would have liked to visit the beach. Or walk it. Or even look at it. But guess what? It was still fucking raining. So we just moved on. The art gallery, if that's really what it was, was simply a house that was filled with artwork and sculptures. Weird sculptures. I really liked the house though and its design, what with the nice balcony and the spacious sitting room and view out onto the woods behind the house. And my interest in the house had absolutely nothing to do with the naked lady (or nearly naked lady) sculptures situated across the house. I swear, hand on my heart.
Although, now that I think of it, my appreciation might just have been a result of having not been in a proper house in something like 2 years. I miss houses and all their roomy and cozy goodness.
This art park/art gallery place had a supposedly impressive sculpture park. Outside. And it was still raining, so we didn't do that. But the indoor greenhouse/forest? Ohhhh, we so did that. Twice. To say that I was caught off guard when we went into this place would be a huge understatement. I assumed it would just be like every other greenhouse I'd been in. Just rows and rows of plants. However, "greenhouse" probably isn't the right word for this place. "Arboretum" would probably be better. "Wonderland" would work too.
I think you can understand why I didn't wanna leave. It was big too. Probably football or soccer field long from end to end and twice (or maybe thrice) as wide. Filled with plants and other green things. And windmills. And those ponds? Full of fish. And did I mention the cute young girls working inside this wonderful, wonderful place? If the apocalypse does come to pass while I'm still in Korea, I know exactly where I'm going.
Sure, the place had a restaurant too, but its in the gift shop that this place really shines. Want a cute pet to take home and love until you lose interest in them? They got that.
Want vaguely or super rascist dolls to take home and disgust your friends with? What if said dolls were also super creepy? Done.
Sadly, every fairy tale must come to an end, and with heavy hearts we had to leave this wonderful place. But the memories (and/or nightmares) will remain forever.
Videos:
