Planes Trains and Automobiles....and Buses and Tuk-tuks and....
Mood:  suave

I love traveling.  That may appear to be stating the obvious, but I'm not talking about visiting places.  Without a doubt I enjoy that.  I'm talking about the physical act of getting from one place to another.  I love it!

I like all of the documentation involved with travel....my passport, visa stamps, the tickets, itineraries,  those adhesive tags the airlines put on your luggage.  I like reading subway maps and the arrival/departure board.  Walking through airports or train stations with my carry-on bag gives me a thrill.  My music, a book, water bottle, and camera are staples bag essentials.  I think it's great to get off the train, change concourses and hop on the subway.  Heck, I just flat out like the subway, period.  Don't even get me started on getting to ring the bell signaling the bus driver you want to get off at the next stop.  Hailing a taxi makes me happy.

Layovers can sometimes be a drag depending on your location.  It's amazing what some airports offer.  I've surfed the net, sat in a massage chair, gotten my nails done, napped, had a masseuse relax my tired feet, watched a movie....in a theater, played pool, drank bloody Marys,  and of course shopped.  The airport shops are great, even though I'm more of a browser than a buyer.

But it's not all a bed of roses.  I'll admit I've had my fair share of horrible experiences -- lost luggage, plane delays, countless sprints to through train stations and airports or chasing after buses and taxis, my pick up person is nowhere to be found....  I've had travel snafus that brought me to tears and fellow passengers that made me contemplate violence.  Yet, I still love it. 

The more I travel the more creative the modes of transportation become.  My journey back home from Cambodia started with a tuk-tuk drive from the hotel to the airport.  I then boarded a plane to Vietnam.  After a lengthy layover I got on another plane bound for Korea.  I landed in Pusan and grabbed a taxi to the train station.  With impeccable timing I bought a ticket and was on my way to Taegu in a matter of minutes.  One more taxi from the Taegu station to my front door and I was home sweet home.

That old saying of "you can't get there from here" is obsolete.  There may not be a direct route, but you can definitely get there.     

 

 

Geisha For A Day
Mood:  happy

I use the term geisha as a synonym for maiko.  They do not, however, refer to the same thing.  Maikos are apprentice geisha and they wear the more ornate kimonos and their make-up and hairstyles are a little different than a full-fledged geisha.  Technically, I got a maiko makeover.   

 

Stage 1 – Getting Prepped

There are many layers to a geisha’s kimono.  I started out with a light white cotton wrap that dipped down in the back and V-ed low in the front.  The fit of the wrap is important because the white makeup is worn on the neck, and a bit down the back.  Thankfully, I wore a wig (can’t imagine how long it would have taken my own hair to look like that) which necessitated the lovely hairnet.

 

 

Stage 2 – The Makeup

It wasn’t nearly as think or un-breathable as I’d expected.  Of course I only had in on for an hour.  It might be different after several hours of wear.  And maybe the real geisha wears a thicker brand to last all night.  A light pink base, similar to a rouge, was put on my checks before the white makeup.  This is so the rosy cheeks would shine through.  One of the real geisha I saw in Gion had that blushing look.  It reminded me when I’d put a flashlight in my mouth and puff out my cheeks….you’ve done it too, don’t lie.  Her’s, of course, were much more attractive.  It really did look like she was glowing.  She was beautiful.  I couldn’t help but stare. 

 

The white makeup goes over the entire face neck and part of the chest and back.  A W pattern is made at the base of the neck.  The kimono dips slightly to show the design.  Red tinted eye makeup is put on along with eyeliner and mascara.  The eyebrows are penciled in and the lips painted a glossy red.  Red is used frequently in the makeup and the kimono as it is supposed to attract men. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stage 3 – Layering, Layering, Layering

As stated earlier there are several layers to the kimono.  I first put on the tabi socks  -- the popular foot mitten designed to accommodate flip flops or in my case getas. They were a nylon/satin material that hooked along the back heel.

 

Everything else was done by my makeup artist/dresser.  In addition to the cotton slip there was another light-weight white wrap that went around my shoulders.  This one wasn’t as low cut, had thick red trim around the neckline and only went down to my upper abdomen. It was secured just below my boobs.  Next was a wrap skirt tied above my natural waistline.  This was patterned because it’s meant to be seen.  Then came a wide sash that draped around my neck.  Finally we got to the kimono robe.  It rested on my shoulders strategically to show the fancy back makeup as well as the decorative neck sash.  A long, wide red sash was then wrapped from right below my hips to just above my waist.  Then some sort of stiff board was placed over my midsection.  An embroidered sash was wrapped high on my torso flattening my chest down.  (That one isn't shown in the above picture.)  At last we got to the obi sash.  It went on top of, but did not cover the embroidered and solid wraps.  There's a full length shot below that you can make out the 3 different sashes, but you have to look closely.   A skinny elastic belt with a rhinestone studded buckle was placed over the obi.  I guess this was to indicate where my waist should have been.  The finishing touch (for the kimono anyway) was the back knot.  I’m sure that real Japanese women tie it, but for my dress-up purposes we used the pre-made style.  The large plastic hook wedged into my obi like giant bow on a Christmas box.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stage 4 – The Wig

I was asked to sit down to put the wig in place.  The dresser had wrapped me so low on my hips that I could hardly bend down onto the stool.  It was a snug fit and a bit heavy.  For just a few seconds I felt light headed.  How those Rockettes do it I’ll never know. 

 

Stage 5 – The Photo Shoot

I walked from the dressing room to the studio taking tiny steps.  There wasn’t much room in all my wrapping for a large stride.  It added to the whole experience, though, making me feel more in character.  I wore basic sandals from room to room, but had the actual geta shoes on during the pictures.  Boy were those tricky!

Some of the shots were taken while I was kneeling.  Getting down wasn’t so bad, but the photographer had to help me back up.  It takes a bit more effort when you can’t bend at the waist. 

 

 

Stage 6 – The Clean-Up

Taking off was quicker that putting on.  Even the makeup cleaned up with ease.  The whole thing, makeup, dressing, and pictures only took an hour and a half.  I got to keep the contact sheet from the shoot.  From the 20 shots he took I was able to pick out (3) 5x7’s and make one of those into a wallet size laminated card.  I also opted to get a CD that has all 20 original shots.

 

The makeup lady and the photographer were a lot of fun and really enhanced the afternoon.  It was a once in a lifetime experience.  I’ve gotten to do and see so many different things while living over here.  What a blessed and fortunate life I’ve lived.

 

The End Result -- Check out the travel pics for another shot of me and some pictures of real geisha and maiko.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**By the way, I did get to participate in a traditional tea ceremony while in Japan.  If I can get my hands on a good wig I might become available for parties, anniversaries, and bar mitzvahs.**

 

     

Hot. It's So Freakin' Hot
Mood:  on fire

It’s funny how people ask about the weather.  They hear you live in a foreign country and they want to know what the weather is like.  It has to be out of habit.  Although I’m not sure how such a habit originates, I can’t imagine that that many people are truly interested in meteorological analysis.  No doubt I have been guilty of the same query and I definitely fall into the habit group.

 

Before moving to Taegu I spent a brief time living around Seoul.  Upon telling people I was would be moving to Taegu they’d either tell me that Taegu was going to be much hotter than Seoul or much colder.  Now how can that be?  Taegu is south of Seoul so I could understand the hotter part, but the colder?  And there’s no way it could be both. 

 

Criminy sakes, they were right.  Something having to do with the mountains around the city.  They create a wind tunnel in the winter.  The temperature may read higher than Seoul, but the wind is a killer.  Summer is naturally warmer due to it’s southern location, but I think the mountains also trap in the humidity.  I don’t know the technical reasons, all I know is it’s July and I’m miserable.  The humidity level is so high that there is a palpable difference going from indoors to outdoors.  Palpable.

 

Adding to the agony, the AC in my office hasn’t been working all that well.  From after lunch until quitting time the building is completely uncomfortable.  A few of us walk down the block to the quickie-mart just to hang out in the walk in refrigerator.  We joke among the cases of cokes and beer about bringing in our laptops….but were not really joking. 

A new shipment of fans arrived at the small furniture shop on base.  Five of us bought matching desk fans.  I call us “the fan club”.  It’s the best $17 I’ve ever spent.  It's definitely made the past few days a bit more bearable

Useful Phrases When Traveling
Mood:  a-ok

Guide books always list several words and phrases that come in handy during international travel.  Hello and thank you are the most common terms people learn.  Because they can be repeated several times during the day they are also usually the easiest to remember.  A lot of people think that “I don’t speak (insert language)” would be useful.  Ironically saying that phrase tends to contradict the desired effect.  Ideally, the foreign national would follow a thought process similar to “They don’t speak my language, perhaps I’ll try another language.” Or “They don’t speak my language, perhaps I’ll find someone who speaks their language.” Or even “They don’t speak my language, perhaps I’ll try wildly exaggerated hand gestures.”  No, what seems to occur is a complete disregard to the statement itself and more of a focus on the language being spoken….”They constructed a complete sentence using my language.  I’ll continue speaking to them in my native tongue.”

 

I make a point to learn excuse me and sorry.  Excuse me is a great way to politely get someone’s attention.  It signifies you are at least attempting to assimilate into their culture.  And hopefully, that tiny gesture will encourage them to be charitable.  I say this because most of my excuse me’s are prompted by the need to ask for directions.  Sometimes it’s as desperate as, “Excuse me, am I currently anywhere on this map”?

 

Of course a new country brings new customs and new procedures, making sorry an excellent friend.  Take for instance my first day in Japan.  Riding the bus, you enter from the back and exit at the front, paying as you leave.  It’s 220 Yen to ride the bus.  Upon exiting, I put my 500 Yen coin in the slot, got my change and started heading out the door.  Not so fast.  You have to pay the exact amount.  That first slot just broke down my 500 Yen coin to smaller denominations.  There was a different place to put the bus fair.  I just opened my hand and let the bus driver take what he needed….ooops sorry.  Day 2 with the bus system I was more confident.  I now possessed a pre-paid bus pass that let me ride all day long.  All I had to do was put the card in the slot next to the driver.  Too bad I got the paper money slot confused with the bus pass slot….ooops sorry.

Yep, I highly recommend mastering the I'm sorry phrase.  An accompanied naive expression doesn't hurt either.

Wake Up And Smell The.....Tuna?
Mood:  smelly
Somewhere in this site I think I've mentioned that Koreans don't eat a traditional western breakfast. Their morning meal is often leftovers from the night before. I've eaten my share of cold pizza in the A.M. but I'm not about to give up my pancakes and eggs.

Weekends I usually put a little more effort into the cooking. Today was no exception. I had my fancy omelet, my toast, my instant chai latte. I was all prepared for a relaxing breakfast. Then I walked into the dining area where the smell of fish slapped me in the face. And not the deliciously grilled Mahi Mahi Amondine fish smell. I'm talking heart of the fish market, head still on, fish smell. That stench is bad anytime, but at 8am when you aren't braced for it is just torture.

This time of year I like to keep my windows open, as do my neighbors. On one side of my apartment there are 2 driveways that separate me from the neighbors. The other side I can spit and hit their window. Thankfully the buildings are staggered in such a way that the windows aren't directly across from each other. As luck would have it I can look down into my neighbor's kitchen....where all of their cooking smells were wafting right into my room. I let out some grunts and sighs of disgust then closed the window, lit some incense, and managed to get the peaceful meal I was hoping for.

Just Say No
Mood:  d'oh
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. What the heck happens the third time?

Koreans aren't known for their desserts or pastries. They just don't have that western sweet tooth. One popular "dessert" is deok. A friend of mine was raving about it so much that as soon as I got the chance I gleeful took a sample. I have no idea how she found it even remotely tasty. It was a flavorless chewy ball.

Deok is rice cake. Not the crunchy variety. I'm not sure of the exact method, but I would guess it involves over-cooking rice then compressing it into desired shape. Think of a rice flavored gummy bear and you've got your deok.

Often, it will come in a cute shape or pretty color. This is how I got burned the second time. I saw the colorful layered squares on a buffet table. They looked like petite four cakes. I knew what they were, but couldn't help myself from taking one. As soon as I bit into it I cursed myself for being so easily deceived.

Almost two years went by and I wasn't even so much as tempted to eat them. It was no problem for me to pass on the deok. Then a friend and I were at a grand opening. The business had a small reception table with (you guessed it) deok. The green and white balls sat neatly on trays. "Oh, those are the ones with brown sugar in them", he said. "Brown sugar", I thought. "I like brown sugar." So I took one. One bite into it and I began to rue my actions. He failed to tell me that the brown sugar was mixed with sesame oil. Sesame oil is okay for meat dishes, but doesn't go well with desserts. The flavor is too strong. Instead of complimenting the sweetness it overpowers it.

Thankfully, we were outside when I took the bite. It allowed my to spit it out in a ditch.

I'm No Betty Crocker
Mood:  d'oh
A while ago -- a long while ago, I got into a squash phase. Acorn, Spaghetti, Butternut....I was cooking them all. The first step is to bake it. You poke a few holes in it and pop in the oven for about 30 minutes -- too easy. One evening I decided to fix my dinner then put the squash in the oven to bake while I was eating. I'd finish preparing the squash dish after my dinner and have tomorrows dinner done. I like to pre-cook. It helps me stay away from the fast food joints on my busier days. But I digress....Somewhere between my first bite of dinner and washing the dishes I forgot all about the squash.

Going about my nightly routine I occasionally got a whiff of baking bread. Because it wasn't a strong or constant smell I figured it was coming from one of the other apartments. This should have been a big red flag because Koreans don't eat bread like Americans do. There's no way they'd be whipping up a batch of biscuits. As the evening progressed I kept smelling it. Going to bed I caught another whiff. I began to wonder if I had some sort of brain tumor. Don't stroke victims smell burning hair right before the stroke hits? What abnormality would make one smell biscuits, I pondered.

I couldn't take it any longer I had to find the source. I rose from bed and began wandering around my apartment inhaling deeply through the nostrils. Approaching the oven I took a big breath, then a gasp....THE SQUASH! Flinging open the oven door revealed a deflated spaghetti squash. The poor thing spent four hours baking away. It's once taut yellow rind was now wrinkly and caramel colored. Surprisingly, the inside was perfect! :-)

So tonight I got back on the squash kick. I put it in the oven and quickly proceeded to forget all about it. Once again I smelled the faint sent of bread baking. Once again I thought it was coming from another apartment.

Finally, the old grey matter woke up. MMM biscuits....What? NO! Not biscuits....SQUASH! I can't believe I did it AGAIN!!

This time it had only been about two hours in the oven. That's clearly progress. Although, an egg timer might not be a bad investment.

See You In Vancouver
Mood:  cool
The moguls...The aerials....The Super-G...Inspired by Olympic fever I decided to hit the slopes last weekend. Actually, the trip is somewhat of a family tradition. It's the second year in a row that the Korean clan has gone skiing over President's Day Weekend. Twice can be considered tradition, right? Anywho, the point is that since we work on a US Army base we get the typical American government holidays. So, while most of the Koreans have to head into the office, we get the day off.

The magnitude of this perk may get lost on my state-side friends. In a country where 45 million people are crammed into an area the size of Indiana, space is a premium. I have NEVER (no exaggeration) NEVER been outside alone. And I've walked these streets at all hours of the day or night. There's ALWAYS somebody else out there too.

This population density means that any attraction -- museum, park, resort, etc. is going to be packed on weekends. It's just a way of life here.

Saturday and Sunday on the slopes is less about "good powder" and more about dodging people. Night skiing helps the situation, but there is still a pretty good crowd.

It's a weekend trip for us, but it's really that third day that makes all the difference. Come Monday morning, that mountain is ours! No waiting for the lifts. Wide open runs. It's great!! As the day progresses the crowd picks up, but nothing like the weekend mass. Plus, most of them are condensed at the bottom. The upper runs remain spacious.

I could really tell an advancement in my skiing this year. Not only was I going down more difficult courses, but I was much more relaxed. On more than one occasion the phrase "I rule" crossed my mind. It was a great get-away. Colorado is looking better and better as a possible place to call home.

My Tip To You
Mood:  spacey
If you are wandering through your apartment and have your contacts in, you don't need to put on your glasses. Sometimes I forget. Ironically, instead of making your vision twice as good it tends to have the opposite effect. Luckily even though the shock will incapacitate you, there is still some part of your brain that wills the hand up to your head and rips the glasses off your face.

Super Bowl Monday
Mood:  party time!
Being 14 hours ahead of America’s east coast makes for some interesting adjustments. Telephone calls always require a math equation. The American TV shows we do get are rarely shown while they are being aired in the States. Think about it, seeing Katie, Matt, Al, and Ann just wouldn’t work while you’re getting ready for dinner.

One of the few exceptions, however, is The Super Bowl. We watch it in real time. Of course, that means Super Bowl Sunday becomes Super Bowl Monday (morning). Kick off time for us is around 8am. The clubs on base hold traditional parties complete with radio station broadcasts, door prizes, free food, contests…the whole 9 yards. Just trade your nachos and hot wings for some eggs and bacon.

I know what you’re thinking….”But it’s still Monday morning, people have to work.” No, they don’t. It’s a day off. Let me repeat that….They get the day off to watch the Super Bowl. I say “they” because there are still a few poor souls (myself included) that have to work. As luck would have it, though, I work in a building equipped with a teleconference room housing multiple 60 inch plasma screens. Breakfast is a pot luck and a few betting pools are coordinated. We rotate manning the phones and check email during commercials. It’s not a bad way to spend the morning.

And speaking of commercials, those don’t get aired. So Monday night I cracked open a beer, sat in front of my computer and critiqued the good, bad, and pointless. You got to love the internet! In the end I got everything someone in the States got – just with a twist.