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The Last Supper, redux

Got invited out to dinner on Wednesday; it was my friend Afia’s birthday. It was nice to get out and share in some conversation (and get this lucky shot). There was follow up get together on Saturday, for another dinner and bowling afterwards. Unfortunately I got stiffed on that one; arrived at the designated meeting spot, waited for 35 minutes, realized that my feet were getting numb and said “fuck it” and bailed out. Not the first time but definitely the last time: their considerable holier than thou arrogance has finally rubbed me the wrong way.

Done.

My next door neighbors like to make love on Saturday mornings. I have no idea if they have any meaningful foreplay; all I know is that it sounds like all “full speed ahead, engage”. Bang-bang in a steady jackhammer rhythm – about two minutes and they’re done. Well, somebody is done. The neighbors overhead do it about once a week as well; sounds the same and I worry when the ceiling will start showering paint flecks – man, they are loud. It really doesn’t bother me – it is even kinda funny some days. Of course, they have no idea that I am abstaining, so they feel no guilt; not likely they would.

Anyway, this entry isn’t about my neighbors doing it and how they do it; this is about my trip to Busan and getting my application Teacher’s College done.

The bus was scheduled to leave at 07:30, so I was up at 04:30, to be sure I covered off any last minute details, checked my email, read the news, used the facilities, get all buffed and cleaned and take a cab to the station. Pretty much a normal day when I think about it, save for the cab ride. I’m always up early, to be sure that I have lots of time to do the things I want to do before I have to do the things that I have to do. I’ve always worked to afford the things I (really) want to do, so these pre-work preliminaries are part of that process. Of course that all changes during different times of the year and where I am and if I am involved with someone or not. The goal remains the same: cover the basics, focus on the specifics.

There was a mom and dad at the station, seeing their camouflaged son off to Gwangju. I’ve seen this scene a couple of times (Gwangju seems to be a major military transit center, for all parts of the arm forces), but this time it was a little different. Dad was all stoic and strong and silent. Mom was all teary eyed and did all the touching and talking. She even got on the bus one last time to say good-bye. I imagine it must be scary for young men in Korea, at least to a certain extent. The possibility of war is remote, but you are being placed into a tough profession without having any say in the matter. You reach a certain age – in you go for two years. This was the first time I got to see how that compulsory conscription impacts those who stay behind. They say Korean people are not emotional – guess it depends on your perspective.

Just before I hopped on my bus there was a news snippet, via the ubiquitous station TV, on the Google-like “street view” mapping of hiking trails. Crazy – the halo/rig the guy was wearing, the cameras (nice looking Canons I think), the goofy determined look on his face – madness.

Passed out on the bus; despite getting plenty of sleep the night before I guess I was still tired. I was listening to Yes (“Yessongs”, live) and managed to be jarred awake about 30 minutes before my expected arrival. More or less two hours asleep, dreaming of colours and naked girls and swirling music and taking magic mushrooms… or so I sort of remember. It was fun for me – hope I didn’t snore too much.

I did wake up to an aching right arm though. Man, I slept on it “wrong” about six weeks ago and I have not been able to shake the pain. Not there all the time, but I have to admit that on occasion I cannot raise it higher than my shoulder without seeing sparks in my eyes. Then there is the numbness in my fingers. I’m sure I have pinched a nerve somewhere – just wish it would it heal and I can move on.

Since I got there so early I wandered over to the Paragon Hotel. I had stayed there last summer when I was on my way home; it was a very nice experience and I need a place to stay this February and then again in the Spring. With the weekend I am leaving for Cambodia/Viet Nam being the Lunar New Year weekend in Korea and I made the February reservation right away.

And then I made a tentative reservation for late April. I’m so looking forward to coming home this Spring – I keep dancing on the dates, but the commitment to leave is now cast. I’m even now contemplating flying to Vancouver then taking the train home from there. I’ve worked small stints in Winnipeg, Calgary and Edmonton and I’ve seen the inside of Vancouver International, but really and truly I haven’t seen much of my own country. I think a train trip through the Rockies and across the Prairies and eventually around the horn of Lake Superior would do quite nicely. The cost is high, but hey: a private cabin… I’m a romantic, after-all.

The taxi ride to the lawyer’s office was easy. The process of getting the paperwork sworn and signed was almost as easy. They were even going to undercharge me until I pointed out the mistake. All tolled: 15 minutes, done and done.

Why the notarization? In order to apply for Teacher’s College, specifically in the Technology stream I’m shooting for, you have to demonstrate hands on knowledge/experience. Much like filling out a job application/résumé, I would have to provide references and recommendations to attest to my prowess. Unfortunately I’ve worked a long time in technical jobs in industries where turnover is high and relationships change very frequently. There aren’t too many of those colleagues left to testify in my case. So, the option is provide a sworn statement that does support your application. That’s what I did: twenty years of experience laid out for all to see. And what a “career”: laid off, four times,  1992, 2002, 2005 and 2007. Back to school twice during periods of unemployment; big money, small money and everything in between. Two divorces, too – not work related in one sense, but in another, totally related to the work I did. Ugh – this will be interesting. The important thing? Despite being 10,000 kilometers from home (and the resources there that could help) I figured it all out and got it done.

Made it back “downtown”, as much as you could call any Korean city having one downtown core; since most are amalgamations of villages there are many different downtowns. Found a Pizza Hut and said to hell with dieting and eating native – time to celebrate and bury some carbs into my body for a change. And half a pepperoni pizza later, I did (with leftovers for later). I watched a pair of housewives, early 40’s maybe, wolf their way through some flat noodles and white sauce. They both ate with their mouth open (very, very common) and one of them worked a cellphone call while mowing away. I so wanted to go over and yell at them, but, that will come at another time.

Got home about 12 hours after I started; not a bad day, I’d say.

Hug someone you love today; don’t forget that you might appreciate it as much as they do.

Should be ominous, but it isn’t – just sounded cool to say/write.

Tonight I watched the movie “Julie and Julia” – a wonderful film, full of loving and caring and cooking. Just right, even with butter. This is also the 7th day of my Movember moustache and I made a small modification to it  - wouldn’t you know it it looks just like the one Stanley Tucci cultivated for his role as Paul Child. And he played the role of a very nice guy – coincidence? I think not. And Julia Child having a “nooner”, repeatedly - no way says I, but lo and behold she did. Julia Child having sex was something I just did not expect; then again, someone with that much passion about something should be having sex, morning noon and night. Anyway, I highly recommend it.

On a side note, I was really hoping to have seen it with my best friend this past summer, but alas it was not to be. Torrents are a wonderful thing, sometimes.

Started the first page of the one thing a day journal for November (year two). As in, I finally remembered to do something with it as I completely forgot to crack ‘er open and get busy. I started with a ZINK print, because I am lazy, although it is of a rather appealing nature, if I do say so myself. Going to have to really sit down and write a few things this month, commit to that need to communicate in a handwritten form. See this for a short thought about that. Maybe I am ADD… started to make some handmade books last night – nothing like a new project to distract one’s self, eh?

Next week, after a visit to a Korean lawyer, a day or to to clean up some paperwork, and on the 13th no less, I will be mailing in my application for Teacher’s College. Holy cow, I’m actually heading down this path – remarkable. I’m really narrowing down my chances, but I really have no interest in going to live in Thunder Bay; London is my home and where I want to be.

And Home (and it deserved that capital) – not long now – about six months and a bit, I reckon.

Much love and happiness to you all.

The recital was advertised as a trio, with viola, cello and piano; the primary focus was for viola compositions, accompanied by either piano or piano/cello. There were works by Georg Philipp Telemann (Concerto in G major for viola and piano), Carl Maria von Weber (Adante e Rondo ungrarese), Michael Glinka (Trio Pathetique in D minor for viola, piano and cello), Robert Schumann (Adagio and Allegro Op.70 for viola and piano) and Georges Enesco (Concert piece for viola and piano). All of them were wonderful, especially those accompanied by cello (my favorite “classical” stringed instrument). They even played three encore pieces; more contemporary pieces and all just as good.

The violist, Park Hae-Lee, is apparently a local musician. I got to sit with a local high school student, who initially marveled over my sleeve tattoo, then told me how he was a violinist and Ms Park was his teacher. I also got to sit near a bevy of elementary school girls, who other than the typical “where are you from” and “what’s you name” litany during intermission, learned how to say “Encore” and “Bravo” and “Bravissimo” by the end of the show.

It was nice to get out to a local, easily accessible event for a change – and the music was a very nice surprise.

I recently went to the local cultural center – an amalgamation of concert hall, library, couple of exhibition halls and some administration buildings. I had found a poster for an up and coming recital, confirmed that this was the venue, with the assistance of one of my co-teachers; figured I’d wander over a day early and get a ticket. The staff there was very helpful and through pantomime/charades and half English/Korean it was determined that I didn’t have to buy a ticket. Sweet bit of luck that was. While I was there I noticed that one of the exhibition halls had a pottery show on. What the hell; fair bit of a cultural day, so why not check it out?

There were two other visitors and three “minders” when I poked my head in. They gave me a nice little guide/pamphlet, which had Korean text descriptions and individual photos of the artists. To a one they all looked middle-aged and virtually identical in look and appearance; made me think of Tuesday night pottery classes at one of the local schools, neighborhood folks getting together to shoot the breeze and drop some clay on the wheel. I could hear the chatter and the looks/sounds of surprise when one discovered the beauty of a certain drip glaze and how well it blended with the base layer.

There actually wasn’t a whole lot of pots and bowls mind you; some nice vases, some interesting figurative bits, one rock and roll abstract/neon glaze effect.

Well done, ladies – there were some nice things there.

The wonder of the things you see.

It fascinates me that there is a variety of feeling about what I do. I’m not a premeditative photographer. I see a picture and I make it. If I had a chance, I’d be out shooting all the time. You don’t have to go looking for pictures. The material is generous. You go out and the pictures are staring at you. - Lee Friedlander

They don’t celebrate Hallowe’en in Korea like we do at home. So, the whole Devil’s  Night, Hallowe’en and All Souls Day/of the Dead trifecta makes no sense to them. That also means I can tell them that on the 30th of October we concentrate on burning cats and torturing bad students and old (really old) people …and they will buy into it. Hook. Line. And sinker. Oh, well: it has to make due until April 1st, 2010. Evil bastard that I am. On the note of evil-ness, I managed to make it this far post angry kidney, then painkiller stomach trauma – lost one point five kilos from Monday to Thursday. Consumed liters of water to compensate, but I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since then either. My body is in revolt I reckon, so I am just going to have to stick with it.

Oh and did I mention they forgot to pay me last Friday… classic back of the hand over the mouth reaction to boot: “oops… we’ll take care of it right away”.

Arrgghh, I cannot get out of here fast enough, trust me.

A shitty week just go stranger when I dropped by the largest school I teach at. The reason for the non-working day visit? I got news from my “walk-to school”, where I teach on Wednesdays and Fridays, that there will be an English camp this winter vacation season at their school. There will be eighty hours teaching required from me – no problem there. The real issue is how to stretch out the number of hours over the available number of weeks. Teach five hours a day for 16 days (three weeks plus one); fours hours a day for 20 days (four weeks) or some other option we haven’t discussed. Either is cool with me – the real key is an available curriculum, delivered on time and ready to go (last year’s was a disaster, 75% in error and delivered less than two days before we began). So, after hearing all of this I dropped in to discuss it with my primary co-teacher.

I found her in the staff room, chatting with some other teachers, eating some fruit. There appeared to be quite a somber mood when I walked in. Apparently we have had our first occurrences of the dreaded H1N1 flu – one grade four and one grade one. To me it was inevitable: their entire “plan” to deal with the problem was fraught with problems from the beginning: inadequate and inconsistent are the politest way I could describe it. Hell, the aforementioned ”walk-to school” won’t let me enter a classroom without a temperature check (mind you, I seem to be the only person going for these checks and writing down the results on the provided for clipboard). After my summer vacation I entered into a self regualted quarantine for a week and for the first two days back teaching they checked my temperature upon arrival. Then, nothing – not a damn thing for nearly eight weeks.

So, two kids get sick, let’s deal with it and be vigilant.

The thing is, I could not help but get the impression that they looked at it more like a failure than a problem to be solved. Typical Korean inferiority reaction.

The next weeks will sure be interesting.

Hug someone you love today – but… be careful to wash afterwards… sigh.

My colleagues and I have often commented on the number of hospital patients we see wandering around outside of the hospitals you’d assume they are getting treated/treated in. You can tell by the PJ’s they are wearing that they are patients, unless of course they are getting some sort of intravenous injection; then the IV getup is pretty much a dead giveaway. I’ve watched parents push youngsters around in carriages, IV/drip poles securely fashioned/fastened, saline solution and lord knows what else drip drip dripping away. Well, today, I got my own bag and lived to tell about it.

The kidney stone pain I started to experience late Saturday night abated by dawn on Sunday. Wasn’t doing too bad, until around 4 PM on Sunday it picked up again. Two hour nap, followed by copious amounts of painkillers and a sleeping pill and I was off to sleep more or less on schedule. Monday morning I was feeling a little out of it, but not in a lot of pain. By noon I couldn’t see straight. Came home, waited out the nausea, then decided that although I have certainly got through this type of aggravation before, I’ve never had to deal with it for two days.

Brain to body – I think we have a problem – to the hospital we go.

Caught a local bus to the largest hospital in the area. There are literally hospitals on every street corner in Korea. I opted for this one because: it is the largest, thus more likely they will have some English speaking staff; ultrasound is the best way to find kidney stones – if I had a severe blockage it is more than likely they will have ultrasound capabilities; and on the oft chance that will simply do a better job.

Hospitals are a profit focused organization in Korea; being the largest, this hospital was also the most expensive. No worries there – I have money, I have pain, please fix, thank you. Right off the top it is about $32 to get triaged; no problem, let’s get going. I was seen by two doctors and two nurses; urine analysis, blood work, x-rays, another $60 – no big deal, please proceed. Test results – cannot see stones, blood work excellent, but some blood in urine – if problem persists go see your local urologist (probably one of those on every other corner). Want something for pain? No problem, here you go – $1.20 for three hits of Ultracet and Cimet. Man, this was totally a bargain. First time I had stones I was in California – around $5000 for four hours of work. Never got charged for the times in Canada of course, but not sure how much the drugs would have cost me (I’m betting a lot).

Took the first dose, an hour later I’m all tingling in my fingers and my groin doesn’t hurt as much any more.

They did offer to inject some pain killers, but I took a pass. I had my own saline bag, with appropriate tubing and taps, at this point, applied right after they did the blood work. Everybody gets a saline bag; it makes the delivery of any additional meds very easy. The disposal of the used bits was a bit disconcerting. Everything gets trashed but the bag; that gets put back into circulation. I suspect there is no way anything can go “backwards”, but, hey, it was weird to see it recycled. The tap in my hand was jettisoned into a sharps container, that was essentially wide open – I saw at least hundred of them in this box, all easily accessible and who knows what could go wrong there. The first swab to stem the flow of blood from the now removed tap was tossed to the floor – based on the number of swabs I saw under my gurney, I’m not sure how often they clean the joint up.

For such an efficiency focused country, it is strange how these little things get messed up. Once again: great people, dumb-ass bureaucracy/process.