Roadtrippin' With My Foodies

I recently went on a spur of the moment roadtrip to an island south of Jinju. Two of my friends (one of whom had just purchased a car) and I decided to head out of town for a little island camping and basking in the sun while the summer season was high.
When we got to Geoje-do it took us a little while to find the beach we were looking for, but with broken Korean and the help of some lovely ajosshies pointing us in the right direction, we finally found our way.


The beach where a typhoon was supposedly going to kill us. That's the fun little fishing boat we swam out to.

 When we got to the beach there was a full-blown company party occurring and all sorts of tents were set up on wooden platforms. The camping tents were set up under overhead tents. Koreans have a very skewed idea of camping.
We set up our tent on the actual ground and headed to the water. There were a few adolescent boys that were basically beach patrol and they were quite concerned for our safety. We were 3 women and clearly not able to take care of ourselves, according to them. In broken English and with the aid of a Smartphone dictionary they informed us that a typhoon was coming and we were going to die (as they made a slitting motion across their necks) if we stayed at the beach. We assured them we were going to be fine, but they were adament we were going to die. We told them if the weather got too bad we would run to the safety of the car. They came back to us three different times to warn us of the danger.
We were sharing the beach with a group of men working for some nondescript Korean company and all their families; lots of noise and children and alcohol was a-flowin'. Oddly EVERYONE exited the water at about the same time, approximately 7 p.m. Koreans are deathly afraid of the ocean so you frequently see them with full life-preserving gear on and they hug the shore like it's their only chance of living a long, happy life. Quite a sight.
My ladies and I jumped into the water at about 7:30 or 8 p.m. and we were swimming around and splashing, having a grand time. Then one of the super-excitable beach patrol boys came full-on running out of his little shack by the beach and screamed at us to get out of the water like Jaws was behind us. He said the beach was closed from 7 p.m. to 9 a.m. and we could come back in the morning.
Are you frickin' serious?
My friend piped up, "Do you own this beach?"
He, of course, said no, but said it was very dangerous to swim after 7 p.m.
Bloody hell.
I swear Korea is afraid of absolutely everything. I certainly wouldn't trust the little she-boy lifeguards to save my life if I was in trouble anyway. They weigh about as much as my left pinky toe.
After a bit more frolicking in the water we begrudgingly got out of the water so as not to give the she-boy a heart attack.
Who closes a damn beach just because a clock hits 7 p.m.? Weird.
After some time had passed and the little adolescent water-nazis had retired to their shack by the sea, the three of us crept out to the water, stopping statue-like when we heard anything from the shack and then swam out to sea. It was lovely and the perfect temperature.
There was a little fishing boat hanging out in the water with nothing to do, so I took it upon myself to swim out to see it and say hi.
After a less than graceful entry into the boat I got pretty cut up from the fiberglass contraption, which was rather painful, but funny. The girls followed me into the boat and we had an enjoyable time chillin' in the fishing boat. One of my friends was convinced we were drifting out to sea, despite the fact that the boat was anchored and we weren't going anywhere. Of course, she was also convinced their were sharks in the water, so her judgement can't really be trusted.
We made the decision to head back to the beach and myself and shark girl were still in the boat. She looked at me and asked which one of us was jumping off the boat next. She asked our other friend, who was already in the water, if there were any sharks in the water and of course there were none. She looked at me wondering who was going next and I asked her, "Do you really want to be the last one off the boat?" She got this look of terror in her eyes and exclaimed, "Fuck no!" and promptly belly-flopped into the shark-free sea.
There was no typhoon that made us "die!" At one point, there was a bit of wind, but then it went away and a tiny bit of sprinkling, but that left after about 10 minutes. It's funny, nobody else got the "Die!" message and the beach patrol only seemed to warn us about the non-existant typhoon. Curious.
On our drive home the next day, the three of us talked about all the food we missed from home for 45 straight minutes, almost the entire duration of the trip. We discussed restaurants, meals we used to make and all the ingredients we miss. We talked about food for so long and then we got depressed and we couldn't even eat to drown our food-missing depression.
I'm going to gain so much weight when I get home.

The Real World? Not so much

I was told people my age had something significant and traumatizing happen to them in their life to get them to Korea. People our age are running from something.
I've worked with people in their late 50s and 60s in this country and met a handful in that age range. There's absolutely nothing wrong with this, but I just wonder what got these people to the point where they left their entire families behind: children, grandchildren, friends, etc. to come to South Korea to work with children. It just blows my mind and many of them have no intention of returning to the U.S. or wherever they came from. Granted, given the current state of the United States and the ridiculous government, I can't really blame them for not wanting to return.
When talking to many people around my age who do come abroad to teach and live, I do sense a certain undercurrent of a troubled past or something significant happening to them that forced them to run away. The majority of teachers here, and the new teachers arriving daily, are fresh out of university and are just here for an adventure. Many of them are trustfund babies and just thought it would be fun to party it up in a different country and travel. However, the ones my age are looking to forget something or a few are looking to pay down monstrous amounts of debt accumulated through years of higher education, but most are looking for a little of both. There are a token few who are just wanderers and nothing more (and obviously also end up being trustfund babies).
The beauty and abominable nature of Korea is that it's not reality for foreigners. We're here, for the most part, for a short amount of time. It's like a year-long holiday. Nobody knows us here, nobody knows anything about our past or where we came from. Essentially we can get lost in this place and it's ok. We can party like rockstars when we're not at school and we can drown all that we feel or don't want to feel with endless socializing and cheap alcohol.
Relationships and dating are not normal in Korea. It's the absolute twilight zone when it comes to dating and relating to people. You have foreign men who know full well that they wouldn't be given a second glance in their home countries, but in Korea subservient Korean girls fall at their feet hoping for the distinction of dating a foreign man. You have Korean men who have completely different cultural ideas about the responsibilities and role of girlfriends and spouses. Or you have the lovely last group of men, the members of the military. Dating someone in the military is just a whole different can of worms that I just don't want to get into. And these are our options in Korea as foreign women. Dating is not dating in Korea. It's not normal and it's unlike anything I've ever experienced in my life. I'm definitely looking forward to leave that aspect of Korea behind.
I do often wonder if those people who have trouble in their souls and pasts ever do figure out what it is they're looking for here. I can't help but think there is probably no real resolution due to the endless numbing in the waegook way of life of drinking excessively. Bars don't close in Korea and drinking EVERYWHERE is completely acceptable. Open container laws don't exist here. I could drink on the steps of a police station at 8 a.m. if I wanted to and nothing would happen to me.
That being said, I have met some really great people here and I've had some amazing experiences here that I will never forget, but I'm definitely looking forward to a little taste of real life. Granted, as soon as I get back to that real life I might be ready to leave again. Such is the nature of a restless and mercurial soul.

Hey! Haven't You Heard?? Korea has FOUR Distinct Seasons!

Koreans are freakishly proud of the fact that they have "four distinct seasons."
They are absolutely convinced that they are the onnnnnnnnllllllllllly country in the whole, wide world that has four seasons and it's near impossible to convince them otherwise. It's super awesome.
For those who don't know me well, that's sarcasm.


This super-green number was taken near the base. Those are greenhouses next to the rice fields and due to the highly uncomfortable monsoon season, crops grow quite well and are so green and beautiful.



There is a fellow English teacher from the States who taught in the same city as me last year and he sums Korea up in 5 seasons. There is the Yellow Dust Season (thanks China), the Monsoon Season (perpetual pruney skin and moldy walls), Typhoon Season (super windy good times), Too Bloody Hot to Do Anything Season (my personal favorite, natch) and Too F*&%ing Cold to Leave Your Apartment Season (reeeaaallly good times when listening to whiney Southerners who've never seen snow).

I get that Koreans are extremely proud of their country, culture and pretty much anything to do with themselves, but really? Do they really need to be excessively proud of their "four seasons" and adamantly convinced they are the only country in all the land that has four supposed seasons? Seems like an odd thing to be so intransigently proud of.