-Kife in Korea-: August 2006

Kangnam Righteousness Ninja versus Bundang Sweetness Assassin

South-east Asia: Food Poisoning Capital of My Life

Back on the shores of Canadiana, I was convinced that I had been blessed with a gift from the gods, a gift of epic scope and dimension; the inability to get sick (provided I didn't do anything particularly foolish, such as play with dead animals or lurk around hospitals in the virus ward). Selfishly assuming that all hemisperes offer this gift, I gallantly decided to move to Korea and eat everything. As a result, over the course of the past 9 months or so I have been poisoned by my food:
4 times seriously
2 times not-so-seriously

This adds up to a total of 6. That is almost 1 bout of poisoning per six week period. Emperors targeted for assassination did not encounter poison this often. Nor did peasants eating lizards and unknown fungi in the woods.
Currently, I am recovering from a maddeningly excruciating rebellion of traitorous organs and insides that decided to contract gastroenteritis for no other reason than I happened to order ludricous caches of food from a restaurant that DID NOT have any label reading:

'WARNING TO POTENTIAL CUSTOMERS! - due to the lack of health standards and/or general cleanliness, all items ordered may potentially KILL you'

Such a warning could prevent similar future incidents. However, I am certain that within another 6 week period, provided that I do in fact continue to eat, I will assuredly contract another form of deadly poison or virus. By the time I return from Korea, I will probably be immune to just about everything, save for a well-aimed gunshot to the head.

Everything Will Be Metal

After maintaining many months with a distinctly non-metal diet of various levels of groovenation dancery and party, an excellent event happened upon Seoul to reverse my alarming trend of throwing the hallowed 'sign of the goat' at non-metal events. The burgeoning industrial community along with a meagre, yet indignant extreme metal community blended styles for a night of metal and gothic rapture. One of the difficulties in being a foreigner is that without a functional grasp of native Hangul, many opportunities to experience cultural, musical, or otherwise events can lead to resources tapping out almost invariably. However, having attained such lofty ambitions and befriending several persons integral to the promotion and contribution to the scene, I was able to attend shows at my leisure and convenience.

The gothic and/industrial scene in Seoul is still in its infancy. However, with each successive show and production it grows stronger, offering more talent, decor and atmosphere and fostering a strong contingency of dedicated fans and enthusiasts (myself included). On the bill for this particular chapter were two bands who I have desperately wanted to see, Desperado and Oathean. Both bands know how and have the ability to rock until the socks come off. Suffice to say, this is exactly what happened. There were also two magicians at the show, about 60 or so Korean fashion afficianados, and Dj Shade from Toronto, most known for Darkrave and similar events showcased at Big Bop and Savage Garden. Having righteous bands drilling sonorous wrath and unmitigated chaos into one's brain can be eclipsed by no other thing, save for a mindnumbingly narcotic selection of pulsing industrial techno (or perhaps Thor and Cthulu slaying a thousand trolls)

triad of badassedness

Oathean - black metal
the best damn Korean band. period.

Desperado - metalcore

Musical Scenery and Greenery

This past Saturday I attended a magical rave in a theme park by a forest and mountain. As part of a Groovenation promotion, Seoul Land (aptly and clearly creatively named) was decided as the host environment for 2 days of Dj-ing, supporting both local and international talent. Having befriended a local Korean who works for the sponsoring production company, entrance to this event was free of charge.

While the sun remained in the sky, several Djs mixed tracks by the pool and waterslides, which was interesting due to the volume of both the under 30 crowd as well as the family-at-the-park crowd. Interesting to note was the style of beats; electro breaks and funky drum 'n bass. These musical styles are not common in Korea, or even in Canada for that matter. My dance skill was tested severely due to the aquatic handicap, however, rockin' the Casbah stops for no impediment. Then we bought plastic swords.

As evening drew closer, we tried our hand at archery. For about $2, the attending employee offers a compound bow and 10 arrows. Needless to say, this particular event was completely and systematically OWNED. We were rewarded with a righteous stuffed camel for our legendary efforts. With Robin Hood-ing completed, we sought further questing.

Somewhat aimlessly lurking around the park, we came across children of various ages heading home with their families, as the majority of the park rides were closing. At this time, I skillfully noticed that many of them sported plastic swords similar to mine. Insulted by their plagiarism, I challenged such foes to a duel, and one one occassion, all 4 at once. My celebrated prowess with a blade was introduced to the unsuspecting juveniles, however, having already consumed a pirate's ransom in ale coupled with a penchant for wearing sunglasses at night, I was repeatedly stabbed and assaulted, despite having clearly already won the battle.

It was at this time that we were assuaged by the hypnotic allure of the Dj area. Clearly, the synchopated rhythms and tightly timed break-beats spoke"come to my thumping bassline...". The theatre itself hosted a dance floor reminiscent of a large chessboard. The theatre auditorium also had no roof, and so while offering chairs and a large dance floor, there was an open sky and fresh air. Tequila was $100 a bottle, so we were forced to procure one. The ensuing installment of Dance-a-thon 2006 would have pleased Dionysis immensely.

At around 4am, we made the decision (I think) to return home. Having remembered how we arrived, it was a relatively simple matter to determine how to return via the same route. After walking for about 40 minutes, we realized that this mission was a miserable failure. Procuring a cell phone with juice left, we called Sunny for assistance. And then a cab came and the escape to a soft bed and huge feast was made possible. However, waking up for orchestra the next day was a marathon struggle of Olympian performance and pedigree.

And now another week of teaching begins, presenting all of the usual obstacles and regular challenges, yet after spending a great deal of time becoming involved with sporadic and illogically structured events, this type of standardization and scheduling is almost a welcome relief. Almost.

Thailand Travels

Strange Things Done in the Fun and Sun

After a pathetic attempt to force the body into sleep mode, a 5:30am alarm arousal helped to focus thoughts on catching the express bus to the airport. One of the more enviable elements of the Incheon International airport is that check-in takes approximately 3 seconds. This standard of excellence is different from many other airports, which generally incur a 1-2 hour, piteous wait within the maw of anonymous, frazzled tourists. It is here Asian efficiency pulls through in full colour; a shining pinnacle of engineering and scheduling achievement.

The flight from Seoul to Bangkok was relatively painless, save for a building anticipation to get off and reach the final destination. Once disembarked (notice that in Asia, no inanely conjured word such as 'deplaning' has been created to indicate that passengers exit the vehicle), I asked where I could find the transfer gate to catch my flight to Koh Samui. An assuring "Gate 7, sir" further increased my sense of confidence in my ability to be responsible for my own well-being. Noting carefully that I had a 3 hour wait scheduled between flights, a well-deserved nap was in order. Awaking 20 minutes before my plane was scheduled to become airborne, I read the flight schedule monitors, noticing that my flight was unlisted. I was forced to ask for assistance. A calm and orderly Thai woman explained that "Sir, you're flight is at the other end of the airport. It is very far away. Maybe you should run [smiling politely]." Shocked at the deception incurred through asking for assistance on the plane, I considered this information to be far more genuine. So I shuffled my way down to the other end of the airport terminal. Reaching the checkout gate, I carefully asked the attendant if I was in the right place. He jabbered at me for a moment or two and then escorted me to a bus that was just departing. Apparently this was the last bus carrying passengers to the plane. 45 minutes later, I was inside the Koh Samui airport, which strongly resembles a small collection of modified fishing huts nestled beside a concrete runway. 20 minutes following, I was met by Lynda. It was a strange reunion, to see someone who had I had known well in the past and who had been absent for such a long time since. We spent the next 15 minutes talking about nothing in the cab and getting used to being around one another.

Thai beaches are unusually beautiful. After stepping off the ferry (or perhaps 'deboating', as some petulent bureaucrat will eventually coin) following a one night stay in Koh Samui, we grabbed a taxi and found ourselves whizzing through slopes and curving roads until we reached the bungalow palace that would be home for the next week or so on Koh Phangan. The tide at the resort travels approximately 500 meters everyday, and the beach levels off leaving pools of milky sea water and sand, which has adeptly been named Milky Bay. Dinner that night consisted of eating as much as possible, drinking fancy cocktails, and paying about $8 for it. The expensive part of traveling to Thailand is getting there. After that, options become virtually limitless.

Renting mopeds is the only way to travel on the island. It takes a few minutes to adjust to the ludicrous speeds at which Thai citizens pass each other on small dusty roads with only 2 narrow lanes. However, exhibition of speed followed by carefully timed, skilled attempts at passing help one to feel at home on the road. One point of interest is that wherever a moped is rented from, it must be brought back in the same pristine condition is was loaned in. If any mark is found on the vehicle, the locale of rental insists that it be replaced and paid for in full by the rentee. They take your passport hostage before giving you the bike, and hold it securely until all dues are paid. At the resort, I noticed 3 individuals sporting semi-serious to serious moped crash wounds and bandages. None of whom seemed to care very much. Island life does tend to take the severity out of potentially debilitating situations.

Daily life in Thailand consisted of eating full meals at every sitting, drinking casually out of hollowed pineapples, swimming in the pool oblivious to the world, walking the beach, and traveling via moped to explore as much of the island as possible. One such adventure led to the Northern-most tip of the island, where a person can find a taxi boat, whisking him or her off to an area called Bottle Beach, which is virtually inaccessible any other way. This area hosts what is arguably the most beautiful beach on the island, encased by cliffs on both sides. Another fringe offers a secluded beach with parallel coral reefs offering a trail into the sea. Once there, snorkeling gear is available, and the shallow reefs are prime location for potential fish enthusiasts. At the tip of the shore, there is an almost white sand beach that connects to another smaller island, Koh Ma. After snorkeling, eating, and then laying under the comfortable shade of a cashew tree, the idea of ever leaving seems improbable and preposterous. There are also waterfalls that can be found through 1km or so treks into the jungle and lush tropics of the island mountains. One can also find look-out areas where large rocks have been conveniently found to offer spectacular views of the shores and surrounding islands.

One particular point of interest is the difference noticed between predominantly wealthy European tourists, and the relative poverty of most of the island populace. This problem is further exascerbated when, after offering a taxi ride for 50 baht (which equals almost $1.50), pompous tourists have the gall to attempt to haggle the price. First of all, that price, when translated into almost all European and North American currencies, accounts to about fuck all. Second, to have the ability to make an attempt at decreasing that price without kicking oneself in the face out of sheer spite, is an incredible feat. Lastly, these taxi drivers make a living through driving around tourists who are basically the cause of the island's exploitation. Making an effort to cheat them out of what little money they make in the first place is an exercise in antagonism and overbearing condescension. Coupled with the fact that many people in Thailand speak some English, tourists often feel that Thailand is a place where the local people exist simply to act subserviently to them.

On one particular evening, one of the hosts of the resort offered and rallied denizens to attend a Thai boxing fiesta. This was an excellent invitation to receive. Muay Thai is fantastically interesting to watch, and the local people take it extremely seriously. There are also bucket drinks to purchase, which run about 350 baht each ($10). Bucket drinks are literally a bucket, which is then filled with red bull, whisky or vodka, and coke or sprite. It is truly a dangerous item, one that sold famously. Muay Thai has a long-standing tradition of discipline and training behind it, helping it to appear as more of a structured and noble art, as opposed to the normative 'ultimate no-rules fighting' that foreigners typically find on television.

Back for one night in Bangkok, Lynda and myself traveled to several markets, where one can find almost any item. The most enthralling of these visits told of a middle-aged Thai woman selling a table full of authentically vicious weapons. I safely procured a ninja-star knife and brass knuckles. Then I proceded to play with several machetes (sharpened), a long sword (also sharpened), and a vast array of assorted knives and axes (all of which were fully prepped for battle). I decided I needed photos to document such a momentous occasion. As I was having my photo taken, the kind and jovial Thai shopkeeper handed me a hand gun and a menacing-looking axe. I therefore gracefully accepted and proceeded to wave blades about like a true warrior. Ah, Thailand.

This vacation was also an emotional experience. Many months ago, Lynda and myself planned this trip together, holding onto a lot of both shared and individualistic notions of how the future would pan out, particularly with respect to our relationship, an on-again, off-again experience spanning large portions of the last 5 years. This type of emotional and personal investment has far-reaching consequences and will always affect the ability to make decisions. One can have particular ideas and thoughts while away from someone else, but these can change once that person is reintroduced. Honesty is key, and without it, life can often feel hollow and fragmented, further problematized by a loss of control. The final night of the Thai experience was heralded by a discussion and explanation of feelings and hopes, dreams, future aspirations, all of which were bound together by a base of emotional honesty. It was draining and intense. And we realized and worked through the problems and decisions that were necessary to address. Many people have experienced awful breakups, some have ended on amiable terms, and others opt to hate and vow childish revenge or become wrapped in self pity. Ending a relationship in one of the most beautiful places imaginable is a rare and beautiful thing. As we travel our seperate ways, I hope and trust that this will always be something to look back on and remember with intimate nostalgia.