The Busan Museum

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

Did I really visit the Busan Museum? Frankly, the entire thing was a bit of a boring blur. After departing the UN Memorial Cemetery with Mary and Steph, we came across the museum by accident. In a very “YOLO, let’s go learn some things!” moment, the three of us entered the museum. We left about fifteen minutes later, probably less knowledgeable about Busan than we had been upon entrance.

The Busan Museum itself seems fairly curated. It has two main exhibition halls – one devoted to habitation in Busan, spanning across the Palaeolithic, Samhan, Silla, Samguk, and Joseon Periods, and the other devoted to modern and contemporary Busan. The latter also features an exhibit on Korean-Japanese relations.

The museum maybe tries to pack too great a punch, and suffers from “information overload”. I found the lighting made the entire place feel a little desolate, but overall, I think I was just more interested in talking to Mary about our applications to school for the fall.

No offense meant to the Busan Museum, but you were the tiniest and most boring blip on my Korean Bucket List radar so far. Keep hustling, though. If it’s any consolation, I would have enjoyed you much more as a field trip with my kindergarten students.

Directions
To get to the Busan Museum, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Daeyeon Station (stop 213). Go straight out exit 3, take your first right, and proceed straight for about 10 minutes. The Busan Museum will be on your left. Entrance to the museum is free (thank goodness).

Hurshimchung Spa

Photo from the Hotel Nongshim website

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

If there’s one thing that you should know about my friends and I during our year in Korea, it’s this: we love to get naked and soak our bodies in large, gender-segregated bathhouses, all while surrounded by hordes of (also naked) Koreans. This locale, otherwise known as a “jjimjilbang”, has been a constant weekend addiction since I arrived in Busan eight months ago. I still hold that fateful Sunday in August when the girls took me to the famed Centum City bathhouse, Spaland, as a cherished memory. [Read more about Spaland here.]

Given our addiction to Spaland, it seemed only natural to expand our horizons to other jjimjilbangs throughout the city. Labelled “the biggest and baddest hot spring fed spa in all of Asia”, Hurshimchung Spa is located in the charming Dongnae neighbourhood, an area that I had yet to visit after five and a half months in Busan. During my obligatory “pre-Bucket-List-research-session”, I was intrigued to learn that like all of the “Dynamic Busan hot spots”, Hurshimchung had a lore, all its own.

Fountain in the lobby of the Hotel Nongshim

As the story goes, after a weary journey through the Korean peninsula, a white crane stopped to dip its infirm legs into the hot springs of Dongnae. Shortly after, it left just as quickly as it came, completely cured from the healing waters. An elderly woman witnessed this miracle performed, followed the crane’s lead, and wouldn’t you know it – she was healed, too! With marketing like that, it’s no wonder that people from all over Asia travel to Busan to dip their own infirm bodies into these hot spring fed baths.

The girls and I met in Dongnae, and began our search for the Hotel Nongshim, which houses Hurshimchung Spa. This search proved fruitless, possibly because we began following a middle-aged Korean woman through the twists and turns of Dongnae. [Note: We were just assuming that she was insistent upon helping us find the spa since she didn’t actually speak any English. The poor soul ended up leading us in completely the wrong direction. I’m choosing to believe that she was just as confused as we were, and wasn’t hatching some sinister plot in the streets of Dongnae.] After splitting from our new Korean pal, we stumbled upon the hotel, weary from our journey, just as the white crane had been after his.

Upon separating from the girls, stripping down, and entering the baths, I soon learned that Hurshimching was indeed as popular as the interwebz had indicated. The shower area was literally crawling with people. It was so crowded in fact, that each shower stall was often occupied by two men bathing together. I’m all for men bathing together, but this was slightly bizarre. The whole scene was admittedly overwhelming, as I waited for a stall to free up. All the while, I’m standing there, nude, trying to communicate with only a look that said, “sorry, I’m next in line for this shower, so please back off.”

The bath area wasn’t much better with regard to over-crowding. My experiences at Spaland have always afforded me great personal space. I do my thing, the other patrons do theirs, all is well. At Hurshimching, the concept of a “personal bubble” dissolved like the green tea extracts they put into the baths. There were old Korean men basically sitting on my lap, as if I were Santa Clause and this bathhouse were a shopping mall. There were children with full-on snorkelling masks and fins diving into the hot-tubs. At one point, a child literally swam up THROUGH my legs. Let’s all just remember that I’m fully naked at this point in the recap.

Despite the crowds, Hurshimchung’s bath facilities were gorgeous. There were two “cave baths” in the corner, baths with names like “Philosophy Bath” and “Champagne Bath”, baths containing green tea and jasmine extracts in them, baths where you could watch television, a waterfall bath that pelted your body as you knelt down in child’s pose, and an “open air bath” for those brave enough to venture into the chilly outdoors, naked (which I was, obviously).

I ended up finding a quiet corner on the second level of the bathhouse to escape the madness below. When I returned to the first level, things had mellowed out a little bit, and I spent my remaining time relaxing in the cave bath.

The patbingsu offerings at Hurshimchung

Afterwards, I met the girls in the communal “Grand Resting Room”. They were even less enthused than I was about their Hurshimchung experience. The girls vowed to never return again, and I felt obliged to agree, if only because of Spaland’s relative proximity to my apartment complex. We ended up ordering noodles and our favourite frozen dessert, patbingsu. In a common trend, both turned out to be slightly inferior to the treats served at Spaland. We opted to leave the spa right away, avoiding the crowded bath area on our way out.

Besides the pretty bath facilities, the one thing that Hurshimchung really has going for it is the jjimjilbang attire they provide you with. The robes are positively Saved by the Bell-esque, and much more visually appealing than the brown and burgundy robes provided by Spaland. I plan on transforming the pants into beach shorts with the help of a tailor.

Don’t let the creeper teeth fool you – I’m not thrilled

In my opinion, Hurshimchung’s bath facilities are far superior to Spaland’s. However, Spaland trumps Hurshimchung in almost every other aspect. Spaland allows for a much quieter experience, is generally cleaner, and has better amenities. Hurshimchung’s “Grand Resting Room” looks like Hobo Junction compared Spaland’s relaxation room. Hurshimchung’s cafe is an adequate size with mediocre food. However, their resting room and cafe are the only places where patrons can really go outside the baths. Spaland, on the other hand offers a DVD room, a spacious outdoor foot bathing area, a relaxation room, a room filled with oxygen tanks – you get the idea.

In conclusion, if you’re looking for a relaxing spa experience, Spaland is probably for you. If you’re looking for a naked, waterpar-esque experience, head on over to Hurshimchung. Don’t forget your snorkelling gear.

Directions
To get to Hurshimchung Spa, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Oncheonjang Station (stop 127). Go out exit 1, and ascend the pedestrian overpass on your right to cross the street. Take two rights; the first at the traffic light after the pedestrian overpass, and the second at the Woori Bank. Hotel Nongshim will be on the left side, and Hurshimchung is just behind it. There’s an escalator in the hotel lobby which will lead you to the spa. Entrance is ₩8,000 and gives you admittance to the baths and all other amenities. Spa robes cost an additional ₩2,000.

Life Round Here

It has been quite some time since I have posted an update about my day-to-day life in Busan. Between trips to the Philippines and China, busy school days that require restful weekends, and blog posts concerning my Korean Bucket List, I’ve neglected talking about myself (one of my favourite pasttimes)! That said, March marks a big turning point for my year abroad in South Korea, and I figured it was time to provide some tales about “life round here”. This blog is quite simply about change, since that has been a persistent theme in every facet of my life lately, whether discussing my school, my relationships, or even the weather.

January Birthdays

Teaching
Over the last three months, there has been a lot of upheaval in my workplace as a result of a merger between my hagwon and another. The ownership and management switched hands in early December, drastically altering the private academy I started with in August. There has been a lot of change; some that I’ve welcomed and has made my life as an expat working in a foreign environment much easier; some that have been wholly unwelcome and caused quite a bit of (unnecessary) tension and stress. The highs and lows of working as a teacher in South Korea have been much more acute since the merger. The days when I’m able to maintain a bubbly countenance and a focused perspective on the reasons why I’m here (my kiddies, saving money, experiencing Korean culture) are amazing, and luckily on those select days when I’m quivering with rage through gritted teeth and clenched fists, I’m able to turn to my solid global support system in South Korea, Canada, and the Philippines.

My experiences with my hagwon are not unique – the culture of teaching for foreigners in South Korea has been rapidly changing over the past year. Schools downsizing, merging, and closing are becoming the new norm. When I compare my story to some true “hagwon horror stories”, it’s pretty clear that the old adage of “things could always be worse” rings ever true.

Sweet Nina, pre-perm

This past Friday was pretty bittersweet. An absurd number of my favourite students ran up to me in the hallway to tell me they were switching to a different academy (some literally across the street), or would be receiving private lessons in their homes, or were simply discontinuing their English language instruction altogether. A quick high five or hug later, and they were in the elevator, out of my academy and my life, likely forever. I was lucky enough to write to a quick note to a few particularly bright students in their homework books or quickly tell them at the end of class how smart and amazing they are. I’ve grown so attached to these little noodles after spending nearly every day with them over the last seven months, and even though I knew this day would come eventually, I expected it to be on my own terms, at the end of my contract. I suppose this is what it’s like to be a parent. Even though my nest is much emptier, there are still so many amazing dumplings to teach (somewhat functional) English to, and of course, gush over in future blog posts.

Friday also marked the last day for seven – count ’em, seven teachers. I’ve been fortunate enough to have taught with five of these teachers (Joanna, Jenny, Sun, Flora, and Elly) since my very first day and it’s so strange to think that I won’t have the opportunity to coo and complain about the students and classes we share together in the teacher’s room anymore.

Come Monday, there will be new books, new students, new teachers, and new rules to greet. While it has been incredibly difficult to say goodbye to so many faces that have become so familiar and comforting over these past few months, I’m excited to break away from certain aspects of teaching that have become monotonous lately and begin the second half of my year as a teacher with a renewed attitude.

Graduation photos with my noodles from Wish Class

Graduation
In line with all “changes” at my school, twenty-two of my third year kindergarten students “graduated” last week! If you didn’t know, kindergarten graduation is a HUGE deal at Korean hagwons. Basically, every private academy in South Korea is in a blind, panicked frenzy from the beginning of January until mid-February, as they work to teach their students a graduation play and/or song. The next six weeks are all about line memorization, learning to speak into a microphone, effective stage blocking, choreography, and costume selection, in preparation for performance day when the parents come to watch. The stakes are high – if performance day is not up to snuff, many parents are likely to pull their students out of the academy. There’s a lot of pressure for both the teachers and students to perform well, and in my personal opinion, perhaps a little too much pressure to put on children at such a young age.

I was responsible for the graduation performances of both Star and Happiness Class. These are my youngest students, aged 4 and 5, many of whom have only been learning English for half a year. This actually relieved some of the pressure off of me: since they are so young and low-level, it doesn’t really matter what they say or do because they’ll look absolutely precious doing it. Star Class and I practiced a shortened play adaptation of “Five Little Monkeys”, and a song titled “I Am The Music Man”, while I authored a play titled “The Desert Island” (a la my favourite television show LOST), as well as choreography to a song called “Walking Through the Jungle” for Happiness Class. I have to say: after a full six weeks of practicing each of these plays and songs, I truly never want to hear any of them again. After graduation, I still had students humming or making references to their songs and plays, prompting me to threaten removing a star off their sticker board. “Music Man, anneyo! Teacher does not like!”

Star Class angels on Seollal

On the day of graduation, the children, donned in adorable (if not slightly inappropriate) costumes that often showcased their midriffs, were graciously welcomed onstage to perform their class play, song, and dance. I served as the foreign Master of Ceremonies for our school’s graduation performance, so I got to witness every single performance. On the whole, the performances can only be described as “disastrously adorable”. There were lots of issues with sound, blocking, and remembering lines, but at the end of the day, the majority of these children were born the year I was a university freshman – NOT THAT LONG AGO – and still did an amazing job. All the students of Star and Happiness Class received big hugs for bravery and bags of candy for making Dylan Teacher proud.

Starting on Monday, I will only be seeing my seven year old graduates for only two periods a day in the afternoon, as opposed to the five hours I spent with them daily for over half a year. Luckily, my new March schedule has me teaching 2/3rds of these little graduates, who, I can assure you, will be experiencing a whole new level of crazy from “Jombie” (read: “Zombie”) Teacher in the afternoons.

My girls and I (featuring Bacon Boy!)

Goodbyes and Hellos
Part of making it this far into my contract also means that goodbyes are inevitable. Teaching in South Korea is a constant revolving door – people are always coming and going. This transient environment definitely puts an egg timer on becoming close with people.

After seven months together, two legs of “the tripod”, Jess and Maddie, are leaving Busan. They have come to the end of their teaching contracts and will be embarking on a new adventure, travelling across Southeast Asia, India, and South America over the next five months. These two girls have been so integral to every step of my journey – from the world’s longest Facebook thread about getting me to Busan, to giving me an insider’s perspective about life in Korea pre-departure, to serving as my tour guide upon arrival, to travelling to Bijindo and Boracay together, to spending every weekend together – we’ve done it all and we’ve done it all together. I know life will continue in Busan, but it will definitely be an adjustment without my two solid pillars of strength, stinking up my life. Jess and Maddie, I love you both! I am so excited for all of the adventures you are both going to have, and for all of the adventures the three of us are soon to have again. All my vibes to my Curly Sue and Straightened Jew. ❤

Just as I say goodbye to two lovely ladies, I say hello to another friend from Canada, Steph Pellett, who recently made the bold and brave move to move to South Korea to teach! I couldn’t be more thrilled to bring a new friend into the the crazy South Korean fold. It’s seriously perfect timing with the summer season fast approaching and I’m so excited to play tour guide to Steph, while also having a new buddy to blog and do yoga with. Godspeed, Steph!

Namaste

Miscellaneous
A quick rapidfire, bullet-point list of other updates:

– Summer is almost here. While it has been slightly rainier than I would prefer, the temperatures in Busan have been positively sweater-only appropriate. I cannot wait for my Korean co-teachers to throw me shade and mention how “brown my skin looks” after an entire weekend on the beach!

– I’ll be staying put in South Korea for the duration of my contract, travelling only to Seoul for Ultra Music Festival in June, and Jeju-do in July. Mary will be joining me on both trips, and we are so excited to pull out our face-paint for Above and Beyond at Ultra and do some cliff-diving in Jeju! I’ll only be travelling in Korea to save some money because:

– I’ve applied to school in Canada for January 2015! After two years of relative freedom and learning some valuable life lessons, it’s time to once again hit the books in a classroom setting. But, not before:

– I go to Southeast Asia for four months! My current plan is to return to the Philippines once my contract is finished in early August, spend some time with my laberboy in Boracay, see what kind of work I can find, and potentially do some travelling in Thailand and Cambodia before returning to Canada at around Christmas time.

That’s about it for life round here, y’all. Stay tuned for blog updates about my trip to Beijing, and Bucket List posts including Taejongdae Resort Park, Hurshimchung Spa, The Busan Museum or Art, and others! Namaste.

Gamcheon Culture Village

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

Busan: The city of dreams, with its towering skyscrapers, sandy beaches, and hiking apparel stores as far as the eye can see. However, one can’t help but feel a little uninspired every once in a while in this bustling, concrete, ultra-modern metropolitan. The sea of identical-looking apartments, usually some “off” shade of brown, white, or gray, can be visually exhausting and the homogenous nature of most neighbourhoods is often slightly depressing (read: any given city block is as follows – Baskins Robbins, an Olleh phone store, Starbucks, a KT phone store, Caffe Bene, a second Olleh phone store, Dunkin Donuts, a third OIleh phone store, and so on…).

Thankfully, the hills of Saha-gu offer a perfectly vibrant outlet for those pining for an escape from the urban solitude of Busan: the Gamcheon Culture Village. Gamcheon, affectionally dubbed “Lego Village”, takes the mantra of Pocahontas (“paint with all the colours of the wind”) to new heights, as the majority of its 10,000 residents live in pink and blue and yellow and green pastel-hued homes.

Allow me to rattle off, at an auctioneers pace, the history, and establishment of Gamcheon: during the 1950s, refugees flocked to Busan in the wake of the Korean War, and established a shanty town of sorts, that over the next two decades was transformed into the village of block-style houses that remain today. The rest of Busan industrialized and modernized at a rapid fire pace while Gamcheon remained “old school” and relatively poor in comparison. Just over five years ago, the Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism hired artists to work with Gamcheon’s residents to create and install murals reflective of the “Taeguk” (yin and yang symbol) throughout the village, and thus, the Gamcheon Culture Village known today was born. [Note: For deeper insights about the history of Gamcheon, follow the jump to this fantastic article on Busan Haps, written by Jessica Steele.]

After seeing pictures of the village from early December when Maddie, Jess, and our friend Marta visited, I knew a visit to Gamcheon was imminent. Six weeks later, on a gloomy Saturday afternoon, I, along with fellow wanderluster and close friend, Mary, journeyed by subway and taxi to the culture village in the hopes that the bright village would serve as a distraction from the gray January skies.

Immediately upon arrival, Mary and I began derping around the village, leaving written messages wholly indicative of our respective personal brands on the walls of the village photo gallery, performing headstands and wheels on the observation deck’s soaking wet AstroTurf, and purposefully avoiding the numerous paved footpaths in favour of bounding down the treacherous and hilly grasslands of Gamcheon. Our egos swelled at the applause we received for our yoga poses from other tourists and our sides ached from giggling as we gracelessly descended Gamcheon’s hills.

Like most of South Korea, Gamcheon is brimming with bizarre idiosyncrasies. In one instance, I happened to peer into the open door of a bungalow whilst walking down a deserted alley, and I kid you not, there was a young Korean woman immobile on the floor, encased in Saran Wrap. Like, the kind that your mom would wrap your elementary school baloney sandwiches in. Given that Mary and I are both tall individuals with long legs, I thought that maybe my eyes had played a simple trick on me as a result of my brisk stride. Mary turned back to verify my claim and the look of shock and slight horror on her face confirmed that there was indeed a poor young woman likely waiting to be devoured like a bulgogi* sandwich. In another instance, we climbed a flight of stairs that had been painted to resemble an ascending library, each step representing a literary classic. One step was particularly larf-worthy, emblazoned with the classic Konglish phrase “YOU NEED DIET”. Korea, you’re strange but I really do (mostly) love it.

The beauty of Gamcheon is that you’re basically a lab rat, running through a never-ending maze THAT YOU CAN’T LOSE AT. Detoured off the main road to venture down a twisty alley that caught your eye? That’s cool, if you go down those three staircases there, take 6 lefts, and walk backwards with your eyes closed, you will literally end up back where you started. Mary and I wandered aimlessly for about 20 minutes, somehow stumbled upon the village’s main entrance, and then pretended like the nonsensical path we chose had been our planned route all along. Foolproof.

My advice to prospective visitors varies based on personality. For the flexible, “go with the flow” types, let the colours of Gamcheon speak to inner spirit, as you float through the narrow alleys. The element of surprise upon accidentally stumbling across the various art installations is a treat in itself. For the more structured, “type A” tourist, I would recommend some pre-departure research and an investment in a village map detailing the locations of each respective village landmarks. [Note: These maps are sold at the tourist information centre and retail for 2,000 won.]

Quietly quirky, the Gamcheon Culture Village is a nice reminder that it’s always best to march to the beat of your own janggu**.

Directions
To get to the Gamcheon Culture Village, take the Red Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Toseong Station (stop 109). Take exit 8, walking straight until you reach the bus stop at the PNU Cancer Center. Take mini-bus 2 or 2-2 for approximately 10 minutes until you reach the stop at Gamcheon Elementary School. [Note: A cab from Nampo Station (Red Line, stop 111) costs about 4,000 won.]

* I’ve got to keep my examples Korea specific, okay?

** A janggu is a traditional Korean drum. Korea specific, right?

Gamcheon warrior

Happy, bucket listing derps

A staircase for all the bookworms out there

Letting these colourful fishies act as our spirit guides

Blessed Gamcheon at dusk

A sample of the featured art in Gamcheon

A(nother) beautiful Busan temple