Alike, yet Askew

It is after the passing of several months in a new place that one can stop focusing on all that is going on around oneself, and realize that other people’s lives are changing as well. People get married, or move house, start new relationships, or do something completely unexpected. For me, I have noticed a lot of changes in the last few weeks, causing me to look back at what has happened in the lives of my friends whilst I have been in Korea. I was staggered by how much has gone on whilst I was too busy trying to wade into Korea and its culture.

In our current age of immediate, ever-present social media and information, looking back on my friends’ lives has been eerily easy. I have browsed photographs of weddings and honeymoons that I had no idea were even imminent. I have peered through years of profile pictures, thinking to myself that some people change remarkably little, while others morph into completely new people through the passing of time. Someone that has always been known as clean-shaven is nigh unrecognizable with a full beard. The reverse is also true.

These unprocessed changes (or lack thereof) lay everywhere in my Facebook feed. In the past, I would have been able to keep up with the myriad of happenings in the lives of almost every single person that I was connected to. Now, I am boggled by trying to keep up with even a handful. I think that my inability to keep up is a combination of a number of factors.

Firstly, I simply do not have as much time to keep up with everything happening in the digital world. Between my full-time job, my volunteering at GosuGamers, freelance writing, and generally trying to keep my mental health within acceptable boundaries, I have far less time to sink into Facebook than I had when I was a bored student with hours of free time.

Secondly, I have become a little disillusioned with the platform and social media in general. It is certainly a superb way to connect with people on the other side of the world. I have managed to keep message conversations with people I would otherwise have lost touch with. Looking at a person’s feed is a decent way to see what they’ve been up to. For most of you, my doting readers, my Facebook feed is how you keep up with when I post a new slew of words. It is a necessary part of our everyday lives. However, it is also a dangerous, vacuous pit where one can lose hours and one’s happiness or ability to feel anything, simply by staring at selfies of those around you.

This is linked to the third reason I use social media less than I once did – the ratio between valuable content and superfluous content has most definitely lessened, meaning that one must invest far more time in order to find something of value than one used to have to. What was once a bright star of connection to one’s peers has swollen into the beginnings of a black hole of narcissism. It has become much easier to post one’s entire life experience onto Facebook, from photographs to documents to sharing that great Buzzfeed link to those around us (#7 will BLOW YOUR MIND!). While the sheer amount of content on Facebook makes it easy to track changes in the lives of those we care about, it is also easy to become overwhelmed by the depth of life going on around us. Or to see hordes of selfies. Even this post is an exercise in narcissism – I write what I am thinking, hoping that people will notice and click an arbitrary button and validate my thoughts.

Social media helps us keep together. It has been great to scroll through the slideshow lives of my friends as projected through Facebook. Keep posting things. I like seeing things, and so does most of society these days. But before you post, consider the value of what you are posting. We love you, but do we want to see another just-woken-up selfie? You decide. We’ll all see it all anyway.

Movers, Lean, and Allergies: Day 1 as a Freelance Writer

After weeks of trying to bid on several different contracts, ranging from writing blog posts to editing academic work to simply entering data into an Excel spreadsheet, I managed to net my first contract via Freelancer.com yesterday. The pay is insignificant. The material I’m writing about has been vastly out of my interests and comfort zone. It is the definition of a job that would not support a human life. And yet, I am enjoying it so far.

Despite all of my bidding on Freelancer, the contracts I was interested in were always being given to other freelancers – those with online reputation, a portfolio expanding years, and several hundred reviews on their profile from jobs that they had completed in the past. Strangely enough, my first contract came not from something that I had bid on, but simply from someone looking at my profile, liking what they saw, and contacting me directly.

I am now a member of the freelance writing caste. I am currently at the bottom rung, below even people who write obituaries in the newspaper. I am unsure where I rank compared to several hundred monkeys chained to typewriters. But I am here, and I am proud that I have my first paying gig. I may have written three articles and still only effectively paid for a meal at McDonald’s, but I can only go upward from this point. Some day I might write for a big audience at a major-name publishing house or firm or brand or whatever. Today I wrote about the dangers of low-cost moving, lean manufacturing principles before ending my productive day with a content pushing email designed for doctors. I may not have written literary masterworks, but I wrote something and got paid money for it.

Well, I will, when I have completed 10 articles. The current model for my payment is that I complete ten articles before my wonderful German employer will pay me. That may give you an idea as to how insignificant the money that I am earning my pecking frantically at my keyboard, trying to dig out the words that I need to get out into the digital world. I am genuinely worried that I will produce 10 articles, the employer will not pay me, and then I will promptly curse loudly into the night, before trying once more to find a job. However, the employer does have a well-reviewed profile on Freelancer, so this is hopefully unlikely. There is still fear lurking in the back of my mind though, like a cat scratching at the crack of a cupboard it wants to get into and ransack.

All of this writing was made possible by the glorious fact that today is a public holiday in Korea: Hangul Day. I find it quite fitting that I spend the day that Korea spends celebrating inventing its own form of writing putting my own digital pen to digital paper, honing my craft and hopefully getting paid at some point in the near future. I even had some extra time on the side to write some more, both for GosuGamers and this post. While I wouldn’t say I’m gaining writing momentum, it’s certainly getting easier to sit down in front of a screen most commonly used for delving into imaginary worlds of light, sound, and sensation and simply type away.

The rest of the coming weekend is filled with activities away from our humble home, so I am glad that today I managed to produce what I have. I have learned things about industries I had not cared to think much about before today. I am sure that I will learn a whole lot more in the coming months. And I can’t wait for every less-than-minimum-wage moment of it.

An Inspirational Birthday

Today is my aunt and godmother Collett’s birthday. To many people, she is a well-reputed publicist, manager, and producer in the South African arts scene. To others, she is simply a stranger that they have not and will never meet. To me, however, she is someone that has shaped the course of who I am, what I enjoy, and where I want to go with my life.

Since I can remember, Collett has been taking me to theatre shows, musical concerts, openings – almost every form of performing art imaginable. Before I was a legal adult, i had probably seen more theatre than most legal adults could claim to have seen. I witnessed everything from major productions off of Broadway to new shows in their first week in a tiny, smoky theatre. Some shows were fantastic. In others, the only fantastic aspect were the snacks served at interval. Nevertheless, Collett got myself, my brother, cousins, family, and pretty much anyone else she could possibly pin down for the time required to go and see as many shows as they could fit into their schedule. And then a show or two extra, just in case.

This exposure to the arts throughout my formative years has left its mark – I have an undying love for music, theatre, film, and almost any other form of expression. Ballet’s a little iffy, but it can be done from time to time. I have learned instruments because I heard them play in shows and liked how they sounded. I wrote because I felt that I too could tell stories like the ones I had seen.

Arguably the greatest thing that Collett has taught me is that one should never be afraid to pursue the things that one loves. Whilst other people were getting the degrees that they felt they were supposed to get, to go into the job they had been told was good, Collett went out and took a year to experience England. Whilst there, she managed to learn from one of the best managers of theatre at the time, and found that she had a passion for the industry. She has never looked back. It may have taken a while, and many dues had to be paid, but Collett is now regarded as one of the best in South Africa in the job that she is passionate about. That, to me, is true bravery. I hope to be half that brave.

Collett has always been around to help me do so. We would always try to plan regular meetings, be it to see a new show, watch a movie (the infamous Lord of the Rings viewings spring quickly to mind), or, as I grew older, cups of coffee and a chat. We would talk about everything and nothing – what was on our minds, who we thought would win the latest season of South African Idol, what I wanted to do with life, or Formula One. Collett has been watching over me from the day I was born, and for that I will always be thankful.

So, she may have a couple more wrinkles than years past, and her devotion to Michael Schumacher may have been corrupted into a love for the pretender that is Lewis Hamilton, but my love for this amazing lady will never change. Happy birthday Collett. I hope that you have many more, because this world would be far darker without you in it.

Twenty-Five Things I Learned on Jeju Island

I am officially over a quarter of a century old, as of Monday the 28th of September 2015. Luckily, I spent the moment that I turned twenty-five on the Hawaii of South Korea: Jeju island. What would normally be a moment where I would become very introspective, negative, and self-pitying, was instead another happy moment in a long weekend filled with joy and relaxation away from Dongtan. In celebration of this, I will list twenty-five things that I learned in my four days on Jeju.

1. My girlfriend is truly the perfect woman for me. She managed to keep the trip a secret for three whole months, right up until we had to pack and leave. Normally she cannot hold a straight face when she’s trying to tell white lies, so this was impressive, and shows how dedicated she was to surprising me. Thank you, my love.

2. Jeju’s most famous fruit, the hallabong, is simply a naartjie. A good naartjie, but not the face-melting taste explosion it had been hyped up to be.

3. The statues symbolic of Jeju are just guys that look like penises.

4. On the subject of penises, a prominent attraction in Jeju is ‘Loveland’, which is essentially a collection of erotic or suggestive statues.

5. Noraebangs (Korean karaoke bars) are heaps of fun. Kris and I went on our first visit to one in Jeju, and we stayed for three hours and woke up with sore throats the next morning. It was worth it.

6. Jeju is home to a volcano (the one in the big picture above) that was once separate from the mainland, but became connected to the rest of the island after erupting. The eruption was so vicious, the soil eroded in such a way that it formed a path to the mainland.

7. Everywhere is a potential spot to throw a Frisbee.

8. Do not try to do anything sea-related when there is a supermoon happening on the other side of the world. The tides will disappoint you. Keep that in mind for 2033!

9. Korea is apparently okay with having the aforementioned sexy statue park, but should a woman show her shoulders, she is likely to get scolded by elderly Koreans.

10. Crime is very low on Jeju island, because everyone on the island is taught at a young age that one must work hard to earn things, and stealing is seen as completely contrary to this philosophy.

11. It is possible to rent a bicycle and, in the course of a few hours, cycle around U-do island, a small, scenic island a 15-minute ferry ride away from Jeju.

12. Travelling for seven hours on a bus sucks.

13. Travelling for seven hours on a bus sucks slightly less when said bus plays a movie.

14.  There is a maze in Jeju that is home to dozens of cats. Kristen enjoyed that one.

15. There are more South Africans in Korea than I thought possible.

16. Muffins can be a well-rounded breakfast.

17. Jeju’s moniker of the ‘Hawaii of Korea’ is well-deserved. The beaches are very clean, the water is warm and clear, and the weather was perfect. A must-do for all in Korea.

18. Do not expect to receive good service in a fried chicken restaurant when the employees of said fried chicken restaurant are watching an important football game.

19. Watching Twitch.tv streams on mobile data is a great way to burn through your data allocation in a matter of minutes.

20. After a trip to the beach, some bus drivers will spray your sandy feet with compressed air before allowing you on their bus.

21. Korean beachfront shops are not known for selling sunglasses. What’s up with that?

22. There is a restaurant on U-do island decorated entirely in Marilyn Monroe memorabilia. They also serve burgers the size of your face.

23. Koreans are not shy to decorate ice-creams with savoury snacks such as spicy chips and onion rings. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds!

24. I am going to miss being twenty-four.

25. Being twenty-five is going to be great! I am in a pleasant country, with the woman that I love. It is all going to be okay.

All in all, I had a wonderful time in Jeju. It is a quirky island, filled with enough things to do to fill the long weekend we were lucky enough to spend there. We made new friends, we strengthened blossoming friendships with people we knew beforehand, and we had a bunch of fun with everyone. We will definitely be returning to Jeju before our time in Korea is over. Sadly, I will not be returning to age twenty-four. It was a good year. But I am certain that twenty-five will be even better!

Spreading the Ink

For most of my life, writing has been something that has just happened, that has always been there with me. From my first, one-syllable pieces when I could barely hold a pen, to fledgling short stories and poems in high school, to this blog post right now, putting words onto paper in a mostly logical and flowing manner has always been something I did for enjoyment, for myself. Today, that changed. I wrote my first article for GosuGamers.net.

It wasn’t delivering major, world-shattering news that needed to be put to the masses or society would collapse. It was just a little piece telling the lovely patrons to the site that an exciting tournament of DotA2 would soon be starting. Nevertheless, I felt an immense sense of pride and accomplishment when my current mentor from GosuGamers pressed the button, and my article, something that I had written, popped up on the front page of the site. I had contributed to something larger than myself.

This is the first step in a new direction that I am taking for myself. Next year, I hope to teach only part-time, and supplement my income through freelance writing or editing jobs. Having recently been told about Freelancer.com, a most intriguing platform that helps freelancers of all trades meet up with potential projects where their talent can be utilized, I am testing the waters to see whether this could be a viable option for me for the future. I am trying to net a few small jobs, build up my reputation on the site and my skills in the writing field at the same time.

While the GosuGamers article may not be the first time my work has been published online (with a short story I wrote forming part of a digital anthology called The Collective, available here), it does mark a step in the direction of more lucrative writing, and possibly even supporting myself by doing so. This causes me to stop and wonder: could I write for a living?

My heart says that I could. Hell, there are a host of people that put pen (or the digital equivalent) to paper (or the digital equivalent) and money happens to end up in their bank account because people like their work. My mind then reminds me of the much larger host of other people desperately flogging their creative wares to no avail or profit, and I feel more reserved and conflicted at the idea, but no less keen to walk the path, even if it is only for a little while.

So, I flex my fingers and carefully tread the next brick on the yellow road of writing. Will I walk long enough to reach the Emerald City of self-sufficiency and self-actualisation? Is that even where this road goes? I know not. But I am going to enjoy the view along the way.

Victory! and other stories: ROK-U Game Week 2

Our amazing ROK-U team, Cheonwon, managed to win our first game of the season. Our weekend started rusty. There was a brief break for varying levels of drunken revelry and a stay at an amazing hostel. Then the sweet taste of victory washed over us. Our final game may have the been tainted by administrative hijinks, but nothing could take away the feeling of success that we all felt at pulling together as a team.

The games this weeks were held in Busan, the coastal city that we initially wanted to be placed in, and fell in love with over Kristen’s birthday weekend. For the second time this year, we played on sand, and for the second time this year, it was hard on our bodies. Our team had never played on sand together, and it showed in our games on the first day of play. We were rusty. We were slow. We were uncoordinated, and miscommunication abounded. Our first game epitomised these flaws, and was a demoralising loss to one of the better teams in the league.

Nevertheless, we avoided falling into a negative mental state as a result of the loss. We acknowledged that the game had happened, noted some mistakes to be worked on, and proceeded to the next game, against a team native to Busan. While we lost once more, it was a much tighter affair, with our noble Cheonwons only going down 4-8. It was in this game that we first showed signs that we could win a game on the sandy beaches of Busan.

Once our second game was completed, our games for Saturday were finished, and we had the rest of the afternoon and evening to our own, before we would head to the arranged ROK-U party at the local Irish pub, The Wolfhound. Our team took the time to visit our accommodation for the evening, a local hostel named COOOOL Guesthouse. They most certainly lived up to their name – the space was very well-designed, open, clean, and, frankly, cool. We put our kit down, had quick (or, in the case of some ladies, not so quick) showers, and headed out for a team dinner. We ate our fill, took some photos, and left for The Wolfhound.

This was my first taste of an Ultimate party in Korea, and I must say that it was a great night. Even though I was not drunk, I had more fun than most of the drunk people there. It was wonderful to see large portions of the teams in a social setting, as opposed to on the field. I played darts, I danced, I walked around in a onesie once more. The theme was pyjama party, and my actual sleeping clothes (or lack thereof) would not really be safe or pleasant for the general public to see. After Kris and I had had our fill of merriment, we left, lay down in our bunk bed, and slept soundly.

We arose in the mid-morning, with our first game of the day only at 1 p.m. Our wonderful host at COOOOL had prepared a scrumptious breakfast of egg and cheese on toast, complete with condiments and French pressed coffee. Where nothing more than a loaf of ordinary bread, some jam, and instant coffee in a tub would have sufficed, COOOOL went the extra mile. When we return to Busan, we will most certainly be returning to COOOOL. We then packed our things and said goodbye to our lovely host, heading to the beach to support the other teams/spy on them for their weaknesses.

One of the teams that we had our eyes on were the team that we would be playing next, Feel. Unlike most of the other teams in the league, they seemed to be less than perfectly organised, similar to our own level. We were cautiously optimistic that we could give them a tough game. We could maybe even win. In our pre-game pep talk, everyone was ready, and had a fire in their eyes that had not been there in the first game on Saturday. We knew that we started to really come together as a team in the second game of Saturday’s play, and if we played at that level, we could show the other teams what we could truly do.

The first half began well. We managed to score a couple of quick points, leading the game for the first time of any game in the season up until that point. After our initial burst of scoring, the game slowed down, and we began trading points back and forth. However, once we scored our sixth point, the half ended. The score was 6-2 to us. There were many smiles in our half-time huddle, but behind those smiles lay weary eyes and beads of sweat – we had run hard in the first half, and we were all tired. This tiredness showed in the first part of the second half. We became complacent, and Feel capitalised on this, scoring three quick points of their own to bring the score 6-5. At this point, hard cap was called. This meant that the game would end after the next point was scored, unless the game ended in a tie. My body was quite broken, and I spent this crucial time on the sideline, cheering for my team. Both teams played scrappily, a combination of exhaustion and in-game stress leading to a host of throws going awry. After this one point lasted ten minutes, the fastest cutter on Feel managed to break away from his mark and catch a lofty pass in the end zone, bringing the scoreline even again, and forcing the game into the Universal Point. Whoever scored the next point in the game would win it.

If the hard cap point was a marathon, the Universal Point was a supermarathon. Even with fresh legs on the field after the hard cap, the game had been long, and we all were wrecked. Instead of trying to work the disc up the field with short passes, both teams fired long-range passes, hoping to catch one of their respective cutters in the end zone and end the game quickly. They did not succeed. The point went on for twenty minutes. Fast cuts and interplay changed to ambling and desperation. And then we managed to get the disc deep in the Feel half. I made eye contact with our handler, Jotham. We both knew what had to happen. I faked a cut, beat my mark, and bolted for the left-hand side of the end zone. Jotham floated a beautiful pass, slightly beyond my reach. I leapt into the air. I caught it. We had won. It is the proudest moment in my Ultimate career up until this point.

Our next game, which had been rescheduled to a later time, was less positive. Many players on our team had booked train tickets to and from Busan weeks in advance, using the earlier timetable, where our final game took place one hour earlier than it ended up doing. Consequently, almost half of our players left in order to not miss their trains. Our last game was a rout.

Not even the frustration of losing awfully due largely do to administration could wipe the smile off of my face though. I had scored the winning point for my team in the most dramatic fashion. I felt like a king. Even now, sleep creeping in on my senses like black mist, I think back to that moment and smile. Sure, I may have fulfilled my role rather well at that moment. But without my team, I would not have been in that position. And in the moment that I scored, there was nothing in our team’s mind of but the glory of winning our first game, the joy of overcoming everything put in front of us. I helped do that.

Letting Go

Sometimes you go into a situation thinking that it is going to be great for a while, but secretly knowing that it will eventually break your heart. Some people do it with relationships. Others do it with cars, homes, holidays, alcohol, or a host of other things. For Kristen and I, it’s fostering two cats. We thought that it would allow us to reap all of the benefits of cat ownership whilst minimizing long-term commitments of doing so. Tonight, we came to the point where hearts start to break. Tonight we decided that we will not be keeping them after all.

From our first night with them, we have grown to love Kichu and Catsby. They became more than temporary squatters in our living quarters – we became a little misfit family. Because of this, we discussed the possibility of adopting them with the lady that we are fostering them for, and this option was left open for the past few months, while she got settled in her new job in Africa. Tonight, she sent us a message gently asking us what our intentions for the two feline boys are, and we were forced to think carefully about it.

We weighed up the two options: keep them forever, or begin to look for other homes for them. We had to consider both their interests and our own. First, what is in their best interests. They need a secure, stable environment where they will be happy. While we may love them deeply and care for them well, we are likely to move regularly. Kichu is incredibly averse to travel, so the less that he would have to do so, the better. We can make sure that they go to a home where they will be loved in one place for the rest of their lives.

Then, we thought about our future. As cruel as it may sound, having the cats with us would be additional responsibility. Every time we travel, every time we start a new contract, we would have to be sure that the cats could come with us. Caring for them is not an issue, but having to turn down potential future avenues is. We have to try keep as many options open as possible, so that we can make the best move for us.

So, with these considerations in mind and with heavy hearts, we decided that they should leave us. It is the best for everyone. It hasn’t been easy. Simply acknowledging that they will be leaving us, even if this is not for months yet, has brought out tears and sadness. We don’t want to hand them over. We love them like children. But, like parents who know that the time has come, we must let them go to a better place for them. The goodbyes lie ahead, but they are not upon us yet. For now, we will love them. We will treasure every moment. We will play with them at every available moment. We will even forgive the occasional accident or shredded item. They deserve nothing less.

Betrayal!

I played League of Legends for the first time yesterday. And I enjoyed it. As someone who was raised on DotA and then DotA2, this is considered a form of high treason, punishable by death or permanent low priority. Nevertheless, it happened. League was fun, and there are many differences between League and DotA2, and I thought I’d share the ones that struck me the most: the good, the bad, and the plain weird. I have only played about six games against actual humans, so this is by no means a comprehensive, in-depth comparison between the two games. These simply some of one guy’s first impressions on a game quite similar to a game that he has put thousands of hours into.

Firstly, the things I liked about League. The process from first signing up, picking an appropriate (or inappropriate) summoner name to playing against real live humans took only a couple of games against computer-controlled characters. DotA2 has an extensive tutorial that needs to be completed, and then bot games, and then only can one try to defeat prepubescent boys who speak a different language than you. To a new player, this may be a detracting factor from starting to play DotA2.

The reason that League can do this is the second reason I enjoyed jumping into League: it has a lower overall skill requirement. I am not saying that it is easier overall, or that there is no difference between skilled players and people who have never played a game in their life before, but the amount of skill required to go into a game and not single-handedly lose the game for your team is far lower in League than it is in DotA2. Sure, you may not win the game for your team, but you will not cause your first games to be hour-long visits to the house of feed and pain for your teammates.

Thirdly, League seems more whimsical. From ridiculous character skins to the more cartoony art style, League takes itself far less seriously than DotA2 does. While this may not be to my liking in the long run, there is something cool about playing a slightly insane teenage girl wielding a machine gun and rocket launcher, and this put a smile on my face in my first few hours of play.

Next, those things that I am currently ambivalent about, undecided, or haven’t encountered enough to make an informed judgement call on. In League, as you play more games, you level up and gain certain in-game benefits that would be inaccessible to new players. While this may allow for you to more intricately tweak your heroes (sorry, champions) into a bastard child of your own designing, it also means that there is some grinding necessary to unlock these. Coming from DotA2, where no matter how many games you have played, the only bonuses you get are shiny hats and more honed skills, this seems both intriguing and problematic.

The fact that there are over one hundred heroes (sorry, champions) in League, combined with a whole host of items, and then all of the summoner bonuses, I feel that it may make certain strategies or heroes imbalanced. Even in DotA2, without summoner abilities, the metagame (which heroes and strategies are played most consistently) is ever-changing.

This need for grinding encourages people to develop scripts with the sole purpose of sitting completely away from your computer and doing something else, meeting the minimum requirement to not be kicked from the game, simply to gain levels. This ruins games, and it happened to me a couple of times in my time playing League. Finally, the minimap is on the wrong side of the screen (for me). I’m sure I can easily change it, but what’s up with that?

Now, that which I disliked. Linked to the grinding above is the fact that not all of the heroes (can we just accept that I’m not going to get the terminology correct?) are available to all players at all times. There is a list of heroes which are available to everyone who plays League. The list changes regularly, so all heroes will go on the free rotation at some point. The rest being available in a store, purchasable with either in-game gold (gained by playing games) or real money. At first, I thought it was a good idea, allowing players to make tangible gains in the game simply from playing and doing well. Like a hero? You buy them, using the gold you earned while playing them during their free rotation. Also, having a limited pool of heroes forces you out of your comfort zone occasionally, which can help you improve your skills.

But then I thought about how certain heroes might be able to completely unchallenged by the free heroes, and stomp the games where people had not purchased the heroes that countered them. This kind of imbalance worried me, but not too much. It seemed like a little inconvenience. Sure, one day, you might be able to play most of the heroes every game. But not for a long time.

I disliked the fact that there is no in-game support for voice chat, only text input. Voice chat is so much quicker and more concise, and promotes greater communication. Sure, a good ping and a message can be great, but a simple ‘Careful.’ muttered by a teammate can more effectively prevent feeding. Not having support for it seems silly. We ended up Skyping a friend we were playing with in order to accomplish the same task as a feature built into DotA2.

However, the feature of League that I liked the least is the surrender option. In League, if 4 out of 5 players on the team (correct me if I’m wrong, League friends) vote to end the game, your ancient (sorry, nexus) will blow up and you will lose. The aim of this is to put you out of your misery if the enemy is using your team’s collective face as a doormat, and the game is not even close. In my experience, however, it was more often used when players had a poor early game experience, and simply wanted the game to end in order to move on to their next one. In DotA2, there is no surrender. Until an ancient explodes, it will continue. And you can continue to fight. And it is possible to come back. Comebacks from major deficits are some of my favourite memories in DotA2. With a surrender button, these are far less likely to happen. Stop voting for surrender and simply play the game.

Looking back, I see that I have only just touched the surface of the different experiences. I will undoubtedly play League more, and have more to say as I gain insight and experience. Do I prefer it to DotA2? Nope. It is a nice change, and being able to play with those friends in Korea that only play League is something I look forward to doing more. But my heart still lies in the never-ending battle between the Radiant and the Dire. Between Kunkka and Tidehunter. Between all of the heroes who I have spent inordinate amounts of time trying to master. In the words of Rubick, my favourite hero in DotA2: “Quickly! To the next battle!”.

New Blood

Today, we met the newest member of our school’s collective. Her arrival had been expected for a while now, and had been delayed several times due to struggles with the application process. Nevertheless, today, she arrived. Her presence signaled both a new chapter in our time at our first school and a wave of reminiscing to our early days in Korea.

This morning, I realised completely that we have passed the half-way point of our first contract in Korea. I had thought about it before, but only for brief moments. During our 15-minute walk to work, I considered the notion in more depth than I had done before. The thought filled me with not dread, not regret, but hope and surprise. A few months ago, we were wallowing in the depths of the three-month-slump – something that all teachers in Korea report experiencing. The combination of homesickness, confusion, and the thought of settling more deeply into Korea is a scary one, and Kris and I both felt down in the deepest of dumps. We wanted to go home. We wanted to go home every day. We were looking for flights during our afternoon preparation time. And yet, here we are, three months later, considering our options for next year. And all of the major ones lie in Korea.

At this point of enlightenment, our friendly new co-worker appeared, mostly bright-eyed and enthusiastic, but also overwhelmed and exhausted from her journey. She was eager to find out the day-to-day workings of the school, and we were all eager to share them with her. In her, I saw a lot of myself in my first few days in the country. Everything was new. Everything was a change, and one that needed to be made quickly in order to properly do my job. Thinking back to my earliest days built upon my already-significant feelings of pride at coming so far. A little over six months ago, I was unemployed, living in my parent’s house, and awaiting with fear and excitement for a new part of my life to start.

I am glad to say that the reasons for fear have reared their head only briefly in our time here, and every day brings new sources of excitement and joy. While Korea may not be the pure wonderland we initially thought it was, Kris and I have learned to appreciate the little sources of happiness in our day. Walking to and from work together. Eating our favourite Korean foods when we feel comfortable enough with our saving pattern for the month. Spending our evenings doing as much or as little as we want. Seeing our new friends. Our work may be mundane and unfulfilling, but the rest of Korea more than makes up for it. And I can only hope that our new colleague will have the same feeling in six months’ time.

Cleats, Hucks, and Salty Buttcracks: ROK-U Game Day 1

Yesterday was the first weekend of the Republic of Korea Ultimate (ROK-U) 2015 Fall season. After the great time Kris and I had in Seoul Spring League, we felt that we should experience the major league for Ultimate in Korea. Even before we came to Korea, ROK-U was something that drew us to the country. As ROK-U is a national league, game days (or weekends) are held in cities across the country. The idea that we could travel around Korea playing Ultimate was very appealing, and we eagerly awaited the first game day. It did not disappoint.

We arrived, managed to find our captain and several of the other players from our team, whose name is the Cheon-won. For those outside Korea, cheon-won is the Korean word for 1000 won, the Korean currency. It is roughly equivalent to R10 in South Africa, or $1 in the United States. Here is a picture of a Cheon-won note: 

These blue notes with the visage of a venerated elderly Korean general are the cancer of the wallets of those in Korea. They seem to multiply at incomprehensible rates, devouring all of the other, more valuable notes in the process.

Having a name that is drawn from a banknote inevitably leads to money being a central theme in the team. All of the team’s pre-and-during-game chants revolved around money. Some more notable of these included “CASH MONEY!” and the old faithful “MAKE IT RAIN!”. While these may not be the most creative use of the money trope, we still have all season to elaborate and branch out from these old staples.

The frivolity of our chants hints at arguably my favourite thing about our team – the spirit. We didn’t win a single game all day. We never scored more than three points in an entire game. But we never stopped fighting. We never stopped having fun. And that is more important to me than winning will ever be. I was wearing in new cleats that I had been gifted for my birthday by my aunt, and from the end of the first game, my feet were aching. I was having so much fun, I didn’t care.

Nothing exemplifies the spirit of our team more than the manner by which we dole out our MVP award to the standout player of the enemy team. Members of our team sign a cheon-won note. We then announce the player lucky enough to receive the award. That person then has to retrieve their enviable prize from the lower back, nay, the upper butt crevice of our inimitable captain. This could be a thing of horror and humiliation. With us, it is just something done for a laugh to be had by all after a hard game of Frisbee. And everyone laughs, even the person lucky enough to rescue the venerable Korean general from his sweaty prison.

We have many weekends left in the league to win games. I am glad that we started having fun before the first minute of the first game.