A Weekend in The Cave: with Cats!

Back in South Africa, I spent a large portion of my free time playing computer games in a room adjacent to the living room. My mother had a penchant for calling this room ‘the cave’, or ‘the nerd cave’. Now that we have moved to Korea, our entire apartment isn’t awfully much bigger than that room was. Our home has become the new cave for Kristen and I, and we have spent the entirety of this weekend reveling in nerding out through DotA2, Game of Thrones, BioShock, and Assassin’s Creed. It made me realize for the first time that the name my mother had coined is the same name that Plato gave to an all-too-relevant allegory.

I have never read the allegory myself. I came across its general idea tangentially through a strip from one of my favourite webcomics, Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal, which is the picture above. The strip can be found in its original form here: http://www.smbc-comics.com/?id=3110. SMBC is a fantastic strip, and I would recommend it highly.

As Kristen and I spent our entire weekend watching shadows, we felt no regret that we had not done something more adventurous or social. We simply enjoyed each other’s company and the company of our two foster cats, Kichu and Catsby.20150809_145414 Here the boys are, in all of their furry glory. Kichu (on the left) is a boisterous, cuddly, and chatty cat. His favourite things are playing with lasers and waking me up at ungodly hours of the morning for no good reason. Catsby (on the right) is the polar opposite – he is calm, reclusive, curious, and likes to go about his own business. His favourite things are exploring the mythical contents of our cupboards, and sleeping under our bed. We are currently only fostering them, but they have already become a part of our little family.

In the coming weeks, we are heading across the country for a Frisbee tournament on the beach of Pohang, and also beginning to compete in a nation-wide Frisbee league. We may not have much time to spend in our cave in the coming weekends, so we thought that we should make the most of our time while we still could. And we loved every minute of it. We may simply have been playing games, but as gamers, there is little that we enjoy more, especially when we experience the new worlds together.

O Captain! My Captain!

Before tonight, I had not seen the film The Dead Poet’s Society. I had always been told that it was a marvel of modern cinema, and a story that one needs to experience in one’s life. I had dismissed these claims offhandedly, vowing to one day give it a whirl. By pure happenstance and a bad losing streak in DotA2, that day was today, that night, tonight. I now see why it is such a necessary part of many people’s motion picture journey.

I shan’t ruin the story, because it is something that needs to be experienced for oneself. I will simply detail that it revolves around an English teacher and his students at an upmarket high school in the United States of America. The teacher encourages the students to begin to think for themselves, to drink the marrow out of life. This resonated with me particularly well, as I saw a great deal of myself in the film. I saw myself as I was in the eyes of the boys. I saw big dreams, feelings most crystalline, and the uncertainty of life ahead. I saw myself in the teacher as well – regardless of what I do, I want to inspire others to change their lives and question what they know.

Dead Poet’s Society made me question what I was doing with my life. Was I living it to its fullest? Was I truly doing what I dreamed of? What did I even dream of? These are all questions that are still swirling in my consciousness as I write this. I can’t say that I had always dreamed of teaching small Korean children to speak a language foreign to them. Conversely, I had always dreamed that I would find someone that I could be exactly myself with and would still love me. And I have found that in Kristen.

The film also rekindled the flame of literature in my heart. Simple phrases and stanzas littered throughout the film helped me to see the beauty that has been penned by those long dead. While I can’t say that I have written anything of consequence yet, who is to say that it is not inside me, simply waiting to be expressed? And until it surfaces from the sea of my unconscious mind, I’d best keep my literary weaponry and penmanship at the ready, to help ease it into existence with maximum clarity and beauty,

I sit here, in a chair on the other side of the world from where I went to school. And yet, I find myself looking back on those days where I roamed the halls of St. John’s College. I think back to those teachers that inspired me to start writing, start playing music, start expressing myself in any way, shape, or form possible. I see them as clearly as if we were sharing a table at this moment. I only hope that they would be proud of how I send my thoughts and feelings into the void of the Internet, of how I have walked my life’s path up until this point. Of how I have seized the days I have been gifted on this earth.

The Magic of Mac and Cheese

This week was a tough week. Even though some of our students were still away on holiday (or politely looking for other hagwons for next semester), the five working days seemed to drag by like time in a dentist’s waiting room. That was until a seemingly mundane discussion on Wednesday afternoon gave us something to look forward to for the weekend. What was this fabled holy grail at the end of the week? As you may have guessed from the title, it was the humble macaroni and cheese. The thought of the goopy, delicious combination of pasta, cheese, and whatever mysterious fillings they may have drove us forward, helping the hours pass by much more briskly.

But why? Food is a common topic in our break room at our first school in Korea. As a foreigner, exploring different foods is one of the more common pastimes, alongside alcoholism and finding things wrong with your job. This exploration could be finding new, exciting Korean food or the most interesting recreations of Western-style dishes – both are interesting to the foreign population. Everyone has their favourite burger joint, pizza house, and Korean barbeque restaurant, and the merits of each are discussed at length. Is the Western dish authentic to what is experienced ‘back home’? Is it a unique Korean take on something? Most importantly, is it delicious? These questions follow each other in rapid succession, establishing a baseline for comparison of any particular dish or restaurant before the minor details are digested and savoured.

On this particular Wednesday, the subject of macaroni and cheese came up through a conversation such as this. The slightly left-of-centre nature of the dish meant that some amongst the teachers did not have a favourite place to acquire and devour good ol’ mac and cheese. The rest tended to agree that Sam Ryan’s, a foreigner pub located in nearby Suwon, boasted the best mac and cheese in Korea. Kristen painted such a vivid picture of its deliciousness that we, as a teaching unit, resolved to go to Sam Ryan’s on Friday evening for mekju (the Korean word for beer) and mac and cheese.

Once this was asserted, the week noticeably accelerated, and took on a surreal, macaroni-worshipping nature. The dish was rarely far from conversation. A co-worker even changed Kristen’s wallpaper on her work computer to honour the soul food delicacy.

When closing time on Friday finally came, the majority of the teachers hopped into two taxis bound for Sam Ryan’s. Two of our co-workers had decided to not attend. And they missed out tremendously. The mac and cheese was gorgeous. Gooey. Cheesy. Filled with love and care. And it went down well with a couple of beers (or more than a couple, in the case of some of our compatriots). What left us feeling most warm and content, however, was the good times had at Sam Ryan’s. We kicked back, discussed everything from little gripes at work to philosophy to the minutia of American football timetabling. It was a great evening, enjoyed by all.

We ate delicious food. We drank a little (or a lot). We talked about everything and nothing. It felt like our first few meals together, where we were all still excited for the year ahead. We may have become slightly deflated in the meantime, but the medium of mac and cheese allowed us to forget everything else for a little while and simply enjoy being with friends from two other countries on the other side of the world – something we forget to do all too often.

Japan: Blow by Beautiful Blow

We went to Japan. It was incredible. Here’s how it went down, broken down into easy, twenty-four-hour-sized chunks for your reading enjoyment!

Day 1: Landing and Osaka: First Days in a New Land

We boarded our plane with plenty of time to spare. We were more excited than we had been for months. We completed the necessary procedures, flew, and landed. We breathed in our first breath of Japanese air, and our excitement had turned to joy. We were in Japan! We had made it! After the many moths of jumping through the bureaucratic hoops of varying colour and size, we had made it! We promptly hopped onto a train to nearby Osaka to drop our bags at our first accommodation. Once we had done so, we headed out to explore Osaka itself and see the Tenjin Matsuri festival and accompanying fireworks display.

The Tenjin Matsuri festival is a time-honoured Japanese celebration, where the spirit of a god from a nearby temple takes a brief sojourn around the city. The city responds by blowing up several forms of gunpowder and creating over two hours of pretty lights in a staggered fashion. It felt like a neighbourhood fireworks display, with a long line of men pulling up their trucks to a certain point and letting rip their small collection of explodables. The only difference is that each man comes ready with massive, expensive, two-stage fireworks that change colour, and not negligible whizzbangs. Between the night sky lit up with an array of colours and the wide variety of traditional dress worn by the people of Osaka to the celebrations, it was an enchanting start to our time in Japan.

Day 2: Universal Studios: One Big Dose of Fandom Overload

After seeing some traditional Japanese culture on our first evening, we ventured to something completely different – Universal Studios. We queued for tickets, constantly looking around us at the host of references to films that we know and love. The Harry Potter theme played in the background periodically. The Universal Globe spun steadily, looming over the park that lauded the highlights of the company’s contributions to the history of film.

Once inside, we were surrounded by a distinctly Westernized experience, with a unique Asian twist. Many years ago, I was lucky enough to visit DisneyWorld in the United States, and Universal Studios reminded me distinctly of that. The first few buildings were filled with shops selling merchandise for Spider-Man and Harry Potter, but also Hello Kitty and the popular anime, One Piece. We eyed some of the wares, but felt that we should save our money until after we had returned from The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

And that turned out to be a wise decision indeed. We spent almost half of our day in The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, and it was as magical as the protagonist of the books and films. We drank Butterbeer, hung out in Honeydukes, Zonko’s, and Ollivander’s. We bought all that we could reasonably justify buying. No, we did not buy wands. We have accepted the fact that we are Muggles, and do not need commemorative sticks.

What we made sure we did not miss out on were the rides within the Potter-themed area. There were only two of note – The Flight of the Hippogriff and The Forbidden Journey. The Flight of the Hippogriff was little more than a small coaster riding a wicker hippogriff. It was enjoyable, but not something that is going to change the state of rollercoasters in the world. It did succeed in introducing us to how long we would be queuing for rides – we waited over seventy minutes for our thirty seconds of hippogriff-induced happiness. This preparation would greatly assist us in our wait for The Forbidden Journey, which would last over two and a half hours.

We waited patiently, taking in our enchanted surroundings and listening to music, before it came to be our turn for the ride that had won an award for being the best ride of its type in the entire world. We were bursting with excitement. We put on our obligatory 3D glasses, pulled down the lap bar, and were whisked away to a land where all of the characters of the series spoke Japanese, and anything could happen.

About a minute and a half later, we knew exactly why the ride is considered the best – it was indescribable. The combination of characters that we loved, rocking back and forth, and the mesmerising imagery and real-world props made us feel like we were living in Harry’s world for a brief time. To anyone wondering if the wait was worth it, it most certainly was. The Forbidden Journey topped all of the other rides that we went on in the rest of our day in the park by a considerable margin, and memories of its wonder have stayed with us ever since. We walked away from the ride, and Universal Studios in general, feeling like children again, eyes wide with rediscovered joy. Most recommended for anyone planning a trip to Japan.

Day 3: Hiroshima: Place of Horror, Place of Hope

The next morning, we packed our bags and left Osaka for a much more sombre and sobering place – Hiroshima. Almost seventy years after the first use of the atomic bomb on humanity, Hiroshima looked like any ordinary city. It had high-rise buildings, both old and new. Trams and buses ported people around their day-to-day existence with no sign of the atrocities that were committed mere decades ago.

It is only when we came very close to the detonation site that the signs of what happened burned themselves across our vision. The first harrowing piece of evidence was the Atomic Bomb Dome. Before the bomb, it was a massive, proud convention centre. It happened to be close enough to the centre of the blast that some of the inner walls managed to stay standing. It has been preserved as a stark, harsh reminder of the bomb and its destructive capability.

Not far from the Atomic Bomb Dome, the Japanese government has constructed a memorial to all of those that lost their lives on that day and every day since. The most affecting part of this memorial was a short video, depicting extracts from ‘Children of Hiroshima’. This book is a compilation of essays written by children who had directly witnessed the bombings on that fateful day. The narratives filled with charred bodies and missing parents and siblings penned by those that should never have had to be exposed to such atrocities made Kristen and I feel physically ill and emotionally drained. They managed more than anything else to put across how monstrous one military decision could be.

We left Hiroshima more quietly than we arrived. What had seemed to be an ordinary city was actually something to be revered, remembered by all. Most notably, all of the museums and memorials cry for peace, that no others may suffer as those in Hiroshima did. There was no anger, no desire for revenge. If only world leaders could take that sentiment to heart.

Day 4: Kyoto: Fushimi Inari and Kyoto International Manga Museum

Coming from Korea, we have seen our fair share of Buddhist temples. We were thus wary to visit similar temples in Japan, because they were highly likely to be similar to those in Korea. The one exception to this rule was Fushimi Inari.

Walking up the slight hill to the first shrine at this sacred site, we see our first torii gate. This is an intimidating structure consisting of two wooden legs holding up a wooden crossbeam, painted bright red and covered on side with intricate carvings. It is essentially a large wooden gateway. And at Fushimi Inari, this is only the first of over ten thousand such gates strewn on the side of a hill on the edges of Kyoto.

The day was humid, but we toiled up as much of the hill as time allowed. We fought through several hundred people wielding selfie sticks and taking cheesy photographs to try and see as many of these ten thousand gates as we could. With each passing gate, my fascination with them grew. Each gate was indistinct from the others as we walked up the hill. However, when time ran out and we had to turn around, they became unique bastions of individual faith. Each inscription was carved deep into the wood of each and every gate. The amount of hours it must have taken to complete even one gate boggled my mind, and filled me with reverence for the dedication to their faith.

Upon leaving Fushimi Inari, we had just enough time to briskly whizz around Kyoto’s International Manga Museum. In an old elementary school building in Kyoto’s city centre stands an old elementary school filled to the brim with shelves and shelves of manga (a Japanese form of comic book). The major feature of the museum is that one can simply take any issue off of the shelves and read at your leisure. Kristen and I could not do so, as we cannot read Japanese. Nevertheless, we enjoyed learning about the history of manga, its influences, and how it has evolved over the years. And we looked at many pretty pictures within random volumes from equally random shelves.

We then left the museum and rushed out of Kyoto to Tokyo. The reason for our rush was that we had to be in time for an Ultimate Frisbee practice in Tokyo. Despite our hurry, we arrived late, introduced ourselves and ran onto the field with fellow lovers of Ultimate from a completely different country. Once again, Ultimate served to unite us with new cultures and people in a way that few other sports can claim to. We even had dinner with some of our new hosts. We ate delicious Japanese omelettes, and headed to check in to our Tokyo home.

This proved to be the most difficult navigation of our trip. We managed to get frightfully lost, to the point that we waltzed into a bar in the area that we thought was close to our home and asked (in a combination of English and gestures) for assistance. A man reeking of alcohol and a kindly waitress from the bar then spent half an hour roaming the streets with us, trying to uncover the location of our lodgings. Japanese hospitality and kindness shone through once more. Luckily for us, Japanese sense of direction shone through as well, as we eventually found our home, thanked our house-hunting compatriots with more bowing than was necessary, and settled in.

Day 5: Tokyo: Akihabara: Streets Filled with Wonders

In the nerd sphere, Akihabara is well-known as the heart of what is known as otaku culture. An otaku is a person that loves a particular series, comic, game, or anything else to the point of obsession and beyond. Otakus build their lives around their own particular poison. And Akihabara caters to pretty much every single one perfectly. Like a well-practised drug dealer, Akiba (as it is affectionately known) knows exactly what you’re looking for and how to give it to you, provided you can pay the price.

Once we alighted from the train at the bustling station, we knew that Akiba would undoubtedly live up to all of our expectations. To our right lay a Gundam Cafe celebrating the beloved mecha series, and to our left lay a multi-storey SEGA arcade. We were exactly where we wanted to be. We roamed the streets for hours, dodging amongst the many Japanese ladies dressed as French maids to gaze upon stores filled with merchandise for everything from anime to Star Wars to video games.

Our particular goal for Akiba was to acquire an original Game Boy Color and several classic games, such as the original Pokemon. We thought that this would be a simple task. We thought that it would involve nothing more than frequenting one of the famed retro gaming stores and parting with our money in exchange for nostalgia and awesomeness. In the end, we had to run around between several stores to find Game Boys that we liked and that we knew functioned. We didn’t mind, however. Looking in each store revealed new wonders, from gaming consoles that would be impossible to find in most other places. Sega Saturns sat next to pristine Famicoms and Super Nintendos. I stared at them in wonder, wishing that I had enough bag space to take one home with us. I gathered all of my self-control and resisted buying all of them. We had a quest, and it was not yet complete!

After realizing that the larger consoles seemed to withstand the test of time better than handheld consoles like the Gameboy, we came to the last of the well-reviewed stores on our list. It had everything. Gameboys. Games, boxed or unboxed, with batteries freshly changed. Even rare games that I had only ever heard whispers of, like the Mother series (apparently brilliant games, but only ever available in Japan). Wisely, we had left a large portion of our money at home, otherwise it would have all slowly disappeared into the hands of the store owner. We simply found the Gameboys that we liked the most, purchased the games, and left Akiba with giddy smiles on our faces and distinctly lighter wallets.

Day 6: Tokyo: Imperial Gardens: Oh look, it’s Green and Brown All Over!

After our late night roaming Akiba, we lazed around for the entire morning. We felt that we had done so much, our bodies needed a rest. And thus, we only left the house briefly, to visit the Gardens of the Imperial Palace, which was rumoured to be remarkably beautiful and a worthwhile excursion for any traveler to Tokyo. So, when we finally gathered the will to put clothes on and leave, we ventured out to see if this was the case.

Sadly, this was arguably the biggest disappointment of our trip. Despite high reviews on Tripadvisor, we found it to be little more than a wide open space with varying colours of green (from grass and trees) and brown (from stone). It was a nice place to spend a little while, but we were certainly not blown away, as we had thought we would be. We sauntered around, enjoying the wide open space, but soon returned to the bustle of the inner city in search of articles emblazoned with Hello Kitty for Kristen. Once we were successful in that, we simply returned to our town, had dinner, and went to bed early, as we would be up early for the next day.

Day 7: Fuji-Q Highland: Japan’s Ridiculous, Remarkable Roller Coaster Resort

Fuji-Q Highland is unlike any theme park that I have ever been to. Whilst most theme parks seem to try to cling around a particular theme (hence the name), Fuji-Q seems only to exist to act as a line of pure adrenaline that addicts can snarf without pretense or distraction. Fuji-Q is all about ridiculous roller coasters. It is home to three different world-record-holding roller coasters. And we rode every single one of them.

Our first ride of the day was Eejanaika, which holds the record for the most number of spins in a roller coaster, with fifteen spins in total. These were your entire seat spinning forward or backward, loops and flips through the air, and horizontal twists. This is the ride that I feared would upset my relatively weak stomach the most, with all of its twisting and turning and flipping. Luckily, the ride passed by too quickly for my stomach to process what was going on. I was left with a feeling of exhilaration and mild terror (but only mild). And that was only the first ride.

The next ride was Fujiyama, the so-called “King of Coasters”. Whilst no longer a world record holder, Fujiyama had once held the records for height, longest drop, and longest ride length. And it was arguably the coaster that I enjoyed the most. The record-holding coasters were focused on excelling in one aspect, and induced feelings of terror as a result. With Fujiyama, I felt no terror, simply enjoyment of the exhilarating experience.

After Fujiyama, we rode the Dodonpa. This coaster hold the record for fastest acceleration, going from a standstill to 172 kilometers per hour in a mere 1.8 seconds. I had never felt anything like that acceleration. One moment, we were in a tunnel, and the next moment, we were distinctly elsewhere. It was insane, like how I imagine riding a bullet would feel like.

After the Dodonpa, we rode Takabisha, the coaster with the steepest vertical drop. While most coasters would be content with dropping their victims straight down (at ninety degrees), Takabisha goes the extra mile, dropping at one hundred and twenty-one degrees after sitting atop the drop for the longest seconds of my life. It gave us time to contemplate our choice to ride Takabisha and regret it a little before whisking us around its incomparably bonkers course. Takabisha was definitely the most terrifying of all of the coasters. It was fast. The course was madness. And it had the gall to drop us at one hundred and twenty-one degrees. Exhilarating, but also genuinely scary.

Aside from the record-breakers, Fuji-Q was filled with an assortment of equally entertaining rides, with everything from water rides to an indoor ‘flight around Fuji’ experience. While the emphasis was clearly on the aptly-named ‘Screamers’, Fuji-Q was filled with unforgettable experiences. It was well worth the two hours it took to reach it, and will feature on any future trips that we take to Japan. Universal Studios was a bloated, cuddly nostalgia trip with rides in it. Fuji-Q Highland was a masterwork katana made of nothing more than a desire to show off world-class roller coasters. They were different, and we enjoyed them differently, but we loved them both.

Day 8: Tokyo: Tsukiji Fish Market and Tokyo Skytree: The Best Sushi Ever

Our last full day in Japan began in the best possible way – sushi brunch! Kris and I traveled to Tsukiji Fish Market, which is known as the place to get the best, freshest sushi in Japan. At Tsukiji, auctions are held each morning for fish that are fresh off of the boats. The owners of the restaurants then use the fish that they buy each morning for the sushi that day. We queued outside the restaurant we thought looked the best, waited our turn, and were finally ushered in.

We sat down in the tiny restaurant (with a capacity of twelve people at a time), mere centimeters away from the two sushi chefs who were calmly preparing any orders put forward to them. We decided to go for one of the various nigiri (raw meat on beds of rice) platters that were on offer. Our particular platter contained all of the nigiri we loved, and others that we were not averse to trying. We eagerly awaited our salmon, salmon eggs, tuna, snow crab, and, to a lesser extent, squid. The sushi was worth every second of waiting.

Served elegantly on bamboo leaves, each piece was perfectly prepared by our sushi chef. Never before had we tasted such flavourful, soft sushi. Even the squid, which we had previously had less-than-positive experiences with, was creamy and light, not chewy and stodgy. As each piece was dished to us, we eyed them eagerly before scoffing them in one go. The flavours rolled gently over our palate, covering our mouths in a soft blanket of delicate deliciousness. We adored the sushi so much, we ordered additional pieces of the salmon and tuna, as well as a recommendation from our sushi chef, snapper.

It was not only the food that made Tsukiji a worthwhile trip – it was the whole sushi-eating experience. The restaurants were small, so it was a more personal experience. We even got to talk at length with our sushi chef (whose name we foolishly neglected to ask) about his life. It turned out that he had trained to be a sushi chef since he was fifteen, and had been dishing out masterful sushi for over twenty-three years. This experience showed in his work – it was flawless, clean, and quick. It is likely that no sushi we ever have will match up to the small pieces that we enjoyed at Tsukiji.

After our incomparable brunch, we explored Tokyo a little more, wandering in the general direction of the Tokyo SkyTree. This aptly-named structure towers over the nearby neighbourhoods of Tokyo. We paid the not-small-but-not-unreasonable price to enter, and were promptly whisked to the 350th floor, and its rather marvelous view of the city. Similar to our experience of seeing the skyline of Seoul from N-Seoul Tower, we were flabbergasted at the sheer size of the city, stretching from one horizon to the other. It was a rather fitting last major activity in Tokyo. We looked fondly upon the neighbourhoods we recognised from our travels and the railways that got us around. We noted prominent buildings for any future trips to Tokyo. Most of all, we took in our last Tokyo sunset. Although it didn’t compare with the sunsets back in South Africa, the emotions brought up by recollecting our escapades tinged the air with its own unique colour.

Day 9: Our Sad Return to Korea

Our return to Korea was not nearly as smooth as our arrival in Japan. We almost missed every part of our return journey – our train, our bullet train transfer, the bus within the airport, even the plane itself. We narrowly caught them all, and ran frantically for our gate, with the polite Japanese announcer declaring the last call for our flight. It’s not that we didn’t have enough time. It was simply our subconscious not wanting us to leave our wondrous holiday behind. We procrastinated at every possible moment without really knowing it. Instead of waking up early, we stayed in bed a little and re-packed some things. Instead of heading early to our gate, we tried to spend our last few yen. That shows just how great the holiday actually was.

As the wheels of the plane left the runway, we looked at each other with downturned faces. We were genuinely saddened by leaving. We had enjoyed one of the best holidays of our lives, and would be working the next day. We smiled only when we spoke about returning, or our future holidays to other special parts of the world. Best of all, we would do it all together.

Japan: The Land of Bonkers Theme Parks, Otakus, and Nice People

Ah, what a holiday it was. Nine days in the place that Kris and I that had wanted to go to for many years. We went to two of the world’s best theme parks. We ate the most sublime sushi that we had ever eaten. And we loved every minute of it. I am quite tired from all of our travelling, so I am just going to give a quick run-down of both the good and not-so-good things about Japan that we discovered in our all-too-short time in that wonderful country. I will undoubtedly miss things out, but I will do a more lengthy post later in the week, telling the tale of our time in the magical land that is Japan.

The Good:

– Theme Parks: We went to two different theme parks, Universal Studios Japan and Fuji-Q Highland. Universal was a soft, warm dose of nostalgia through attractions based on famous movie franchises such as Harry Potter, Back to the Future, and Jurassic Park. Fuji-Q was like a line of pure adrenaline taken in a dirty back alley, with four of their coasters holding world records. I went from 0-179 kilometers per hour in 1.8 seconds. It was manic. Both parks are reason enough to plan a trip to Japan, never mind all of the other things we did.

– Food: Japanese food is far more varied than South Korean fare, and there are far fewer American chains in the country. Our personal favourite was sushi at Tsukiji Fish Market. The sushi was made from fish that came out of the sea a matter of hours before it landed on our plate, crafted by a sushi master with twenty-three years of experience. All other sushi will pale in comparison to that.

– Japanese people: The Japanese are a warm, welcoming people, eager to help those that are visiting their country. There were at least four occasions when Kris and I were lost and observant Japanese passersby helped us find our way. We were even helped to our Tokyo accommodation by a semi-drunken man and a waitress from a local pub. They walked the streets for half an hour until we finally found the correct address.

– Japanese Obsessions: Anyone interested in anime, Hello Kitty, manga, gaming, or anything else Japanese will not be disappointed by the support of their particular flavour of otaku. From four-storey arcades, to miniature theme parks dedicated to anime and manga characters, Japan knows what your poison is, and it is more than willing to supply it to you.

The Not-So-Good:

– Temples: Coming from Korea, the majority of Buddhist temples look remarkably similar, and those in Japan were no different. However, there were exceptions to this, most notably at Fushimi Inari, a shrine where over ten thousand hand-carved wooden gates stand on the side of a mountain in honour of the fox messenger to the gods, ‘kitsune’.

– The Imperial Garden in Tokyo: Hailed by several travel websites, we found it a tad disappointing, little more than a blur of green and brown. Maybe we were just tired.

All told, our time in Japan was unforgettable, and we will most certainly tell our children stories of this holiday. As mentioned above, I will definitely do a detailed post, elaborating on what we did each day, at some point this week. Right now, however, I simply want to sit, enjoy the last few minutes of freedom before work tomorrow, and reminisce fondly on our amazing holiday. Keep an eye out for more exciting details about Japan!

Japan: A Good First Impression

Tonight, I sit not in my usual chair at home whilst I write to you, my faithful readers. Tonight, I AM IN JAPAN! This trip has been a personal dream of mine for many years, and when we sat on the train from the airport and caught our first glimpses of Osaka, the magic of fulfilling them filled my body with joy and my face with a smile.

Kris and I are here for nine days, our entire summer vacation from our first school in Korea. Rather than dwell on how short that the holiday is, we are enraptured by the new country that we have nine whole days to explore.

We are staying in Osaka for the next three days, in Kyoto for one day, and finally Tokyo for five days. We are going to see such wonders as Universal Studios theme park (containing Harry Potter world, which we are tremendously excited about), Hiroshima, Fugi-Q Highland (another famous them Park with Mount Fuji as a backdrop), and more Pokémon, Hello Kitty, and anime characters than adults should be allowed to see. It shall be glorious.

The trip got off to a good start as well – today happened to be a major celebration in Osaka, where the deity of scholarship of a local temple leaves his home and is carried through the city in a golden shrine. Sadly, we arrived too late to see the procession through the city, but we were able to witness a spectacular fireworks display held in his honour. Many of the locals wore traditional kimonos, which added to the wonder of the scene. What a way to celebrate our arrival!

With such a great holiday ahead of us, we are both looking forward to each coming day and relishing the experiences we are having in each moment. This is a welcome change from our work life, where we often simply drift along during the day, only living in the evening, when we aren’t at work. Maybe this singularly magical experience will give us renewed energy to do more than simply float on. It will, however, give us memories that we will carry with us for the rest of our lives.

Two More Days

We are all burned out. It has been a long, eventful semester. We have endured the MERS, the outbreak that never really broke. We have taken our children from their first days at the school, and led them to being only moderately misbehaved brats. It has been an interesting ride so far. But, for all of us teachers, the fact that we’re focusing on now is that there are only two more days of term before we have our one week of break.

Two more days lie between Kris and I and the shores of Japan. Thankfully, getting a Japanese Visa no longer hinders us – yesterday we managed to pick up our visas. It was in this moment that the excitement that I should have been feeling for the trip since we booked our flights and accommodation hit me, all at once. When we held our passports in our hands, with the necessary piece of paper (complete with awkward photo) resting comfortably in the Visas pages, I felt it all. I beamed like a small child who had been given next month’s allowance two weeks early. I chuckled, giddy with happiness that this obstacle that had stood between us and our dreams had finally shrugged its shoulders and moved aside. For a time, I felt nothing but happiness and excitement.

Then we returned to work, to finish doing our due service. For the past two days, my mind has most certainly been more often outside the classroom than inside it. I picture walking the streets of Tokyo, surrounded by another foreign language, and the imagery that formed a large part of my childhood. I picture going to the Universal Studios theme park, seeing the Harry Potter world that has been constructed there. I picture the festivals and that we will see. Sometimes, I simply cannot contain the excitement within me.

Two more days. That is all that remains. Each lesson that passes is one lesson closer to Kyoto, to Osaka, to Tokyo. Japan, we are coming for you. We have to tend to some children for a little longer first. But we are coming. I hope you’re ready for us.

Mudfest Mania

On Friday night, Kris and I stood at a crossroads. We had booked a place on a bus to a place called Boryeong for the weekend, to attend a rather unique festival that was taking place there. It was not a music festival, or a flower festival, or even a craft beer festival. It was a festival celebrating the wonders of mud. We were uncertain whether we would rather be content at home for the two days of freedom from children, or at this bizarre festival with some potentially scary strangers who happened to live in our town. Looking back at how much we enjoyed the weekend, we needn’t have even considered missing Mudfest.

One of the major reasons for our trepidation in the hours leading up to departing for Mudfest was the apparent emphasis on drinking alcohol that permeated the Facebook message group prior to the trip. It would seem that many of our Mudfest comrades would be having big weekends indeed, and we weren’t sure if we were comfortable with that. These intentions came to become truth soon enough, as the drinking began before we even stepped foot onto the bus. However, we decided to share the first few drinks with everyone, and this helped ease us into the rest of our time together. We arrived at our accommodation in the early hours of the morning and did some brief exploring of the area before Kris and I decided to call it a night, leaving some of our party to explore several bars.

Kris decided to share a few more drinks than I did on Friday night, and felt rather poorly on Saturday morning. This experience was shared with the others amongst our group who overestimated their capabilities to process alcohol, and for most of our group, Saturday morning and afternoon were spent in our accommodation, nursing various symptoms and not moving a great deal. Once some strength had been regained, Cards Against Humanity was cracked open, and there followed several hours of inappropriate laughter and bonding between us. While the majority of Boryeong was spending their time getting covered in mud, we were perfectly happy to be inside, having a good laugh together.

Today, then, was our day to see what exactly about mud was worthy of celebrating in its own festival. Kris and I rose early, leaving behind most of our group (who had made a concerted effort to drink more on Saturday night than they had on Friday night), to explore the wonders of mud. And we were very, very pleasantly surprised.

We had expected there to simply be a large pool of mud to splash around in, cover yourself with, and then proceed to take more selfies than should probably be allowed. While there were indeed two large pools of mud, there was so much more than that. There were slides. There was mud football. There was an obstacle course. There was even an inflatable gladiatorial arena, where you would beat another person with a foam cylinder, attempting to knock them off of the pole that you both sat on. It was a veritable mud theme park. And, for most of the attractions, the victor of the activity got to throw mud upon the body of the loser. My own victory over Kristen in the gladiatorial arena was indeed sweeter after covering her with mud. Everything was more fun with mud.

Like our recent field trip to the ‘water park’, it astounded me how activities that seemed so simple proved to be so incredibly enjoyable. We bonded with some new friends. We threw frisbee on the beach. But, most prominently, we got covered in mud, and had a blast doing so. We will see our Mudfest comrades again. We will return to Mudfest next year if we decide to stay in Korea. I am simply hoping that I will be able to, one day, remove all of the ninja-like mud from many nooks and crannies on my person.

Everybody Loves Water Pistols

Today was our third field trip at our first school in Korea, and it was by far best we have had up until this point. While our expectations and initial impressions may have been rather low, the day quickly turned to on one of the most positive experiences we have had with the children. What turned the day into such a good one? Nothing more than a parking lot, two blow-up slides, an inflatable pool, a host of water pistols, and a rediscovered chlidishness inside us teachers.

For the whole month, we have been aware that the field trip would be to a water park. Our initial thoughts of travelling to a massive theme park with three-storey slides was quashed by our co-workers who had been at the school for more than a year. They told us that in previous years, there had been little more than a couple of slides in a small parking lot. When we arrived at the ‘water park’ this morning, they were proved correct. I looked upon the two slides, splash pool, and pavement with dread. I felt that the children would quickly be bored, and the day would turn into a constant hunt for explorers seeking entertainment outside of the small oasis of fun. How wrong I would be.

The children ate their snacks, which ranged from healthy fruit to exotic sweet things, and changed into their swimming clothes. The slides were ready, and so were the children. I was not ready for how much fun would be had in the short time we would spend in a Korean soccer academy’s parking lot.

The children soon became one with all of the watery objects, sliding and swimming and sliding again. Almost as quickly, the first streams of water flew from a water gun. Thus began the aquatic warfare that would not cease until the ‘adult’ teachers were told it was time to return to the reality of the school. The majority of children had brought water guns with them, of varying size, functionality, and effectiveness. The teachers happily scavenged any guns that were left unattended, and I managed to sample almost every means by which children and other teachers could be covered in water.

My personal favourite was a foam water cannon in the shape of a pink unicorn. Apart from the ridiculousness of the image that was created by my wielding this weapon, it was also remarkably good at its job. Its operation was simple: put the end of the tube into the water, pull on the handle to suck water in, point it at your target, push the water out again, and watch as your quarry is covered in water. The only limitations were the strength of one’s arm and the limited water capacity. In a young girl’s hand, it made a soft stream that reached a few metres. In my hands, it was a siege weapon capable of reaching across the entire parking lot, from the floor to the top of the taller slide. I had more fun than I probably should have through drenching children. And I wasn’t the only one.

The pools were prowled by students and teachers equally determined to spread watery havoc to the best of their ability. Children played. Teachers forgot that they were meant to be working, and played as well. Work was a foreign concept in the small playground where we enjoyed a bubble of simple childish joy.

While I one day might look back at my experiences in Korea and see all of the bureaucracy and duties and mundanity of day-to-day teaching, tonight, I remember what it feels like to be a child for a while. I cast off my glasses, my negative attitudes, and my disciplinary teaching facade, and sprayed children in the face with a pink unicorn. Today was a good day.