Jagalchi Market

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

I am not a seafood person. Serve me any farmyard animal and I’ll scarf it down so fast that you won’t even remember that Old McDonald had a farm. Give me (most types of) fish, crustaceans, mollusks, echinoderms, or roe and I’m going to sit pouting at the dinner table until my meal is cold.

Despite my aversion to all of the things that frolic about the sea, I was eager to explore Busan’s iconic Jagalchi Market. The market, located on the edge of Nampo Port, is famed as the largest seafood market in all of Korea.

Steph and I visited Jagalchi at around midday on a Saturday. The market had already been abuzz for several hours and didn’t show any signs of slowing down. Equipped with our Nikon D90 and iPhone 5C, respectively, Steph and I made our way through the alleyway, and eventually emerged at Nampo Port. We watched a group of middle-aged men who appeared to be gambling near the dried fish racks before heading back into Jagalchi’s main strip, lined with colourful and holey umbrellas. We inspected baskets of fish and crustaceans that were pretty to look at, but not particularly palatable and tried to be as respectful as we possibly could when snapping photos, so as not to upset the ajummas working the stalls. [Note: We have both encountered situations where ajummas have gotten angry when we took their pictures. It’s better to err on the side of caution and ask first.]

The Jagalchi experience can be overwhelming. There is a constant barrage of shoppers pushing past you. The narrow alleys of the market are lined by booths selling every type of seafood you could imagine. There is water splashing, knives slicing, and grills sizzling. There are walls of tanks containing crabs and eerie fish, and buckets containing slithering eels and octopi. There are elderly Korean men frying mackerel on a hot plate and ajummas gutting fish and adding them to already towering piles. No matter where you go in Jagalchi, the market is alive with the sounds, sights, and smells of the sea. It sort of makes you forget the farm, if only for a second.

Directions
To get to Jagalchi Market, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Jagalchi Station (stop 110). Go out exit 10, and take your first right at Jagalchi 3(sam)-gil Street. Walk straight for five minutes and the market will be on your left-hand side.

Changseondong Meokja Golmok (Busan’s “Let’s Eat” Alley)

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

Why just see the world when you can eat it, too?

This is a question I ask myself while travelling for two reasons. First, because I believe that one can go to all of the temples, towers, gardens, parks, beaches, and monuments and still not necessarily experience anything culturally authentic. These places, while beautiful, are often just snapshots. I believe you have to engage yourself in the culture and customs of a different country, and food sampling is a pretty solid way to do so. The second reason is that I’m never not thinking about food. I could almost literally “eat the world” myself.

I’m lucky to have friends who share this same philosophy. We can journey, trek, and voyage to see all of the things, refuel by eating all of the things, and then continue on our merry sightseeing ways. We employ this approach frequently, as was the case earlier this month when Steph and I found ourselves exploring the Nampo area for Changseondong Meokja Golmok (먹자골목), otherwise known as Busan’s “Let’s Eat” Alley.

The concept is simple and efficient: walk through the red archway into the alley, find an appealing vendor, park your keister on the brightly coloured stools, and point to the bowl you want. There is no time to waste in Changseondong. There is none of the usual “please wait for your server to seat you”, or disappointment when your meal arrives and doesn’t come close to matching the photo in the menu. What you see is what you get.

Each stall is run by an elderly Korean woman, lovingly known as an “ajumma”, who prepares your meal for you. With regard to the actual meals, there is a variety of traditional Korean dishes available, including tteokbokki (Korean rice cake), pajeon (green onion pancake), kimbap, and japchae (sweet potato noodles). The cost of each dish is incredibly cheap, ranging from ₩2,000 to ₩5,000 (approximately $2 to $5CAD).

Steph and I each ordered a bowl of japchae to start. We mixed the sweet potato noodles in with the carrots, onions, spinach, and mushrooms, as we befriended the lovely ajumma at the stall. Afterwards, Steph opted for a plate of kimbap, while I decided to “carb-o-load” and ordered a second bowl of noodles, known as baekmyeon (white buckwheat noodles)

Steph and I departed the “Let’s Eat” Alley with full stomachs and full wallets, having only spent ₩4,000 each. If you’re trying to see and eat Busan, Nampo’s “Let’s Eat” Alley is a great place to start.

Directions
To get to Changseondong Meokja Golmok, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Nampo-dong Station (stop 111). Take exit 7, and take your first left. Continue down this road, until you reach Gwangbokro Street (the third street) and turn right. The “Let’s Eat” Alley will be on your left and is between a pharmacy and a Coffee Bean. The entrance to the alley has a red and white archway.

Songdo Beach and Amnam Park

Photo from For 91 Days in Busan

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

Photos by Stephanie Pellett. Check out her blog Life in Limbo here.

It is a widely held belief that a horseshoe is said to attract good fortune and luck. While I don’t necessarily hold this notion as canon, it was a true stroke of luck to have recently added Busan’s horseshoe-shaped Songdo Beach and the nearby Amnam Park to my Korean Bucket List.

Compared to the other beaches in Busan that I’m familiar with, (namely Haeundae and Gwangalli) my mid-March visit to Songdo was unusually placid. The promenade was not overcrowded with couples taking selfies or struggling artists pedalling their heartfelt renditions of “My Heart Will Go On”. Instead, there were families taking quiet afternoon walks, and groups of ajummas sitting on the benches, quietly conversing.

Dogs of Songdo

The actual beach had an almost kitschy feel to it, with statues of dolphins and whales rising up from the water. The surrounding neighbourhood was filled with coastal hotels laying claims to the best coastal views in Nampo and the usual Korean coffee chains.

On the left side of the beach, we came across an archway that led out to a series of low-rising sea-stacks to walk upon. Inside the archway was an information sign that offered some history on Songdo’s tumultuous history. I learned that not only is it Busan’s oldest beach, (having officially opened in 1913) but is also its most berated. Songdo’s coastline took a pretty severe beating from multiple hurricanes, most notably Typhoon Thelma in 1991, which caused a great deal of sand loss. Following a reconstruction in 2000, the beach now plays host to a variety of celebrations, including the Busan Sea Festival.

Songdo selfies

After a few pictures on the sea-stacks, we moved to a scenic park elevated just above the beach. My favourite part about this area was a tiny glass house filled with books at the edge of the park. Unfortunately, we couldn’t access this outdoor library, as its door was locked. We brushed this off by practicing a few arm balances and headstands, as good yogis do.

Steph rockin’ her salamba sirsasana

Thereafter, we headed to the Songdo Coastal Walkway in order to get to Amnam Park. This walk was undoubtedly the best part of the day. Our journey along the red staircase that hugged the coast was timed perfectly with the setting sun. The walkway was almost completely empty, save for a few smiling ajummas, and just below us were numerous fishermen looking for their last catch of the day. The Coastal Walkway has been one of my favourite moments in Busan so far, and I’m looking forward to returning later this summer.

Songdo Coastal Walkway

The walkway took us approximately 25 minutes to cross. Upon reaching Amnam Park, we began to feel the effects of a full afternoon of walking on empty stomachs. We ended up hiking for about 15 minutes through the park, which was enough time to get some views, see some statues, and smell some pine trees. Amnam Park, while beautiful, couldn’t hold a candle to the astonishing views offered on the Songdo Coastal Walkway. Nor could it overshadow our rumbling stomachs. Sometimes, nature can only do so much when you’re fixing for some Thai food.

Library Park

Directions
To get to Songdo Beach and Amnam Park, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Jagalchi Station (stop 110). Go out exit 2, and take your first left. Just ahead is a bus stop; buses 7, 26, 71, or 96 will all get you to Songdo Beach, while buses 7, 9, and 91 will take you to Amnam Park. Alternatively, a cab from Jagalchi Market costs approximately ₩8,000.

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.

Dongbaekseom Island

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

Like all good things, Dongbaekseom Island has rebranded itself over time. The “sands of time” gradually joined the formerly solitary island to the mainland, if only to allows Koreans and foreigners to promenade along it and admire the dongbaek, pine, and camellia trees that surround it.

Always loving a good rebrand myself, I ventured to Dongbaekseom Island in mid-January with the girls to enjoy a sunlit stroll along the Busan coast, as well as to check out the APEC Nurimaru House.

The Nurimaru APEC House is filled with a lot of information regarding the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation Summit held in Busan; very little of which I actually retained. I know that leaders from two dozen countries came to Busan in 2005 to discuss economic cooperation and that they were required to wear traditional Korean garb. The visual of George Bush in a hanbok sticks out, but not much else. Four years as a history major, memorizing textbook upon textbook of minute details, and this is what I have to show for it. Sorry, but I’m really not that sorry.

After briefly exploring the APEC House, we ventured outside into Dongbaekseom Park which offered gorgeous views of the coast and Haeundae Beach. We chuckled to ourselves about the fact that, while our friends and family were suffering through “Canada’s Polar Vortex Winter 2013/14”, we were leisurely walking in a beautiful outdoor park in cardigans. We caught sight of a towering lighthouse perched upon the jagged coastline, and a monument to the Confucian philosopher Choi Chi-won during our exploration.

We continued along the coastal trail, until we happened across a fun little rope bridge. Just beyond the bridge, below the rock wall, sits a statue of Princess Topaz, of the Naranda Kingdom. The melancholic princess stares dejectedly down into the water, in an almost Mulan, “when will my reflection show” type of way. According to lore, she was married off to King of Mungungnara, and now sits for all eternity in the coast, weeping for her homeland. [Note: I was going through my “2014 Korea Breakdown” around this time, and could totally sympathize with the poor girl and her longing for the “old country”.] 

Dongbaekseom Island was off my radar with regard to “things to do and see in Busan”, but is a perfect spot for a quiet walk (or talk, with Princess Topaz) if you’re in the Haeundae area.

Directions
To get to Dongbaekseom Island, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Dongbaek Station (stop 204). Take exit 1, and walk straight for approximately 10 minutes until you reach Dongbaekseom Island.

Taejongdae Resort Park

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

Photos by Jess Sternberg. Follow her on Instagram here.

As a Canadian boy who has experienced some twenty-two winters in Southeastern Ontario, the relatively temperate climate of Busan has been a dream during the typically harsh winter months. Besides one day in mid-February when it “snowed” (read: there was light snowfall that evaporated before it even touched the ground), on the whole, the South Korean winter has treated me well. It has also given me the ability to remain active and explore the great outdoors of Busan during months where, in Canada, I would be hermitting indoors.

Taejongdae Resort Park, located on the southern coast of Busan in Yeongdo-gu, provided a perfect setting for exploring the great outdoors, in the form of a crisp January afternoon stroll. The weather on this particular Saturday felt like a late October day in Canada, so my fellow Toronto girls, Jess, Maddie, Mary, and I took advantage and ventured to the famous Busan monument to take some yoga photos and watch the sunset.

Taejongdae derives its name from King TaeJong Mu-Yeol of the Silla Dynasty (BC57 until AD 935) who used to fire arrows along this beautiful coastal area back in his heyday. The park is absolutely magnificent – serene forests, breathtaking views of the coast, and beautiful man-made monuments. The park itself is quite sprawling, so in order to reach the main attraction, the Taejongdae Lighthouse, in an expedient manner, the park’s Danubi train is almost necessary to save yourself a long journey on foot. Unfortunately, the girls and I mistook the line that was simply waiting to board the Danubi train as the line waiting to purchase tickets for the train, became impatient, and started walking along the road towards the sites of Taejongdae. [Note: We never made it to the lighthouse. All of the sads.]

While we never made it to the lighthouse or Sinseon Rock, (which according to myth was a relaxation spot for gods and goddesses), we did get to see Taejongdae’s beautiful Pebble Beach from one of the many observatories along the coastline. Mary and I surged ahead to visit the Taejongdae observatory, which provided some stunning views of the rocky Korea Strait and the famous “Suicide Rock”. A sombre statue of a mother with two children stands just outside the observatory to remind anyone who has ventured to Taejongdae to commit suicide that somewhere, their mother holds an unconditional love for them. The observatory was unfortunately our last stop before turning back, but provided us with some unforgettable panoramic views and interesting information about the “Taejong Rain” which happens around the 10th of May (on the Lunar calendar). As a result, Taejongdae serves as a famous site for rain prayers during droughts.

Eventually, the girls and I headed back towards the Pebble Beach, finding a quiet part of the forest where we could watch the sunset, undisturbed. Just to our left, we discovered a giant boulder on the coast, absolutely perfect for some sunset yoga photos. One at a time, we each slowly and surely crawled our way onto the rock, making sure we didn’t look down at the deep plunge beneath us should our loafers or Toms fail us. A couple of “rock”-solid warrior, mermaid, and lotus poses later, the girls and I left the park, while the sun finally set on the magnificent coastal park.

Directions
To reach Taejongdae Resort Park, take the Busan Subway Red Line (Line 1) to Busan Station (stop 113). From here, take Bus 88 or 101 until the Taejongdae Park stop (approximately 35 minutes). Alternatively, you can take Line 1 to Nampo (stop 111) and take a 20 minute cab ride to Taejongdae. Entrance is free. For those who want to explore Taejongdae without walking, the Danubi Train provides transportation for W1,500, as well as service in English, Korean, and Chinese.

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.

~ObSeSsEd~: February Edition

While teaching about the Gregorian calendar to my level 3 kindy students earlier this week, I utilized a cute poem from their textbook to aid them in remembering what months contained 30, 31, or 28/9 days.

“February has 28 days – that’s great!
But sometimes it has 29 and that’s fine.”

For some reason this poem, intended for seven year old ESL students, gave my 23 year old self some perspective about how truly fleeting February is (especially as a postgraduate, living without the amplified stress of midterms inevitably followed by the lazy lull of reading break).

Since I missed out on those solid two to three days of obsessing that other months offer, my list of obsessions for February is short and sweet, highlighting the best that Korean culture can offer, as well as an old and a new school television series.

Survivor
Icebreaker: During my formative years, I was positively crazed about competition-based reality television shows, particularly Survivor. I used to prepare full-on, colour-coded round robin circuits in my notepad, pitting my toys (who portrayed some of my favourite competitors from the show) against one another. I used to prepare fantasy seasons in that same notepad, where my favourites would return to battle it out in a tropical setting for a second time. I used to assign members of my class to survivors competing in a new season, and reward the ultimate winner with a pack of Skittles (if I recall, Stephanie Raison was the winner in this particular instance during Survivor: Pearl Islands). I even had a Survivor themed party for my 13th birthday, where my guests were forced to eat baby food in timed trials, and were quizzed on trivia that only I could have possibly known. I’m sure this just provides even more evidence to the fact that I am and always have been, a crazy, obsessive human being.

I’ve recently gotten back into the beloved series after discovering multiple full seasons on YouTube. In the past four weeks, I’ve zipped through five seasons of the show, truly rekindling an old love affair. I’m also not ashamed to announce that I’ll be following the newest (and 28th!) installment of the show, Survivor: Cagayan, which premieres today (!!!). The twist this season is Brains vs. Beauty vs. Brawn, and will take place in the Philippines for the fourth season in a row.

Sundubu jigae
A spicy stew made from tofu, assorted vegetables, and chili powder that tastes delicious, includes rice, AND only costs W4,000? As we say in Korea, “NAY!”

Looking
I know with certainty that I’m not the first person to describe Looking as “Girls for gay boys”, but I truly can’t think of a more apt comparison. Looking follows three male friends, Patrick, Agustin, and Dom, who all happen to be gay(!), living in San Francisco, and “looking” for something (it’s not always love, y’all). Sure, the characters of Looking are a little older than “the girls”, and perhaps possess slightly more life experience, but in the end they’re as self-involved, filterless, and cringe-worthy as Hannah, Marnie, Jessa, and Shosh.

Truthfully, I found the Pilot episode painfully slow and uneventful, but the subsequent five episodes have been relatable, funny, and honest, without skimping on the awkward and outlandish. I was a huge fan of the fifth episode (“Looking for the Future”) in particular, if only because it made reference to Friends and posited that Rachel was the top in the Rachel-Ross dynamic; truly #dead. I’m crossing my fingers that Looking doesn’t go the way of Girls and becomes totally unrelatable in its second season. Also, if any of you are curious, I’m a total Patrick.

“Let It Go”
It seems that I moved to the right country, because Koreans on the whole are just as obsessive as I am. Disney’s latest offering, Frozen, stars Idina Menzel (otherwise known as Maureen from Rent) as frigid Princess Elsa, who harbours great powers and evem greater intimacy issues (the character was loosely modelled after me).

While I haven’t heard much about the merits of the actual film, I have heard the lead song, “Let It Go“, literally everywhere I go. Walking by a phone store? Why not just blare it on repeat? Choosing to eat lunch with my youngest students in Star Class? Why not burst out into song with a group of five year olds? With regard to once hating the song and now being obsessed with it, I borrow a line from the song itself to justify my actions: “Couldn’t keep it in / heaven knows I tried”.

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

~ObSeSsEd~: January Edition

Somehow I blinked and 2014 crept out from the shadows and stationed itself upon my lap. How absurdly cliched would I be if I said “each new year arrives faster than the last”? Likely senior-citizen-levels of absurdly cliched, methinks.

A new year means new obsessions. This month will feature an album from my favourite 1970s rock band, new school Jenny from the Block, a yummy treat from Korea, and the reigning Queen of Film proving (yet again) why she’s the Queen.

“Dance Again” by Jennifer Lopez
I credit the fire-dancing troupes in Boracay for this obsession, because I was not a fan the first time I heard this J.Lo track in 2012. Obvious points are deducted for teaming up with Pitbull, the STD of the musical collaboration world, but still: this song is near perfect.

“Tusk” (1979)

Tusk by Fleetwood Mac
Despite proclamations of being a “die-hard Fleetwood Mac fan”, I’ve admittedly really only listened to their Rumours album in its entirety. But, upon my return from Boracay, I’ve been absolutely obsessed with Tusk (1979), the group’s follow-up to Rumours. In particular, the tracks “I Know I’m Not Wrong”, “The Ledge”, “Not That Funny”, “Honey Hi”, and “Think About Me” strike the most beautiful chord progressions in my heart. The album is clearly inspired by late 1970’s musical trends, notably New Wave and garage rock. Recommended for Friday nights alone in your apartment, whether for solo dance parties or hugging-your-pillow-level bouts of loneliness.

Philippine cuisine
Chicken adobo (particularly the famous “Twice-Cooked Chicken Adobo” of Boracay, currently being served at Damiana’s/Ti Braz in White Beach, station 2), chicken halang-halang, gising-gising: this country can literally do know wrong when it comes to food. I’m currently trying to remedy the fact that I’ve yet to consume any Filipino food since returning to Busan; the appeal of Korean BBQ can only last for so long…

Melt in your mouth girl, not in your hand

White Cookie Chocolate Pepero (빼빼로)
My favourite after-school snack from the Lotte Corporation (which produces EVERYTHING in this country), Pepero is basically a Hershey’s Cookies & Cream bar melted onto a cookie. It’s AMAZING. Oddly, November 11th is an observance holiday in South Korea known as, you guessed it: “Pepero Day”. Quite similar to Valentine’s Day, where one is expected to exchange Pepero to their affections in lieu of Valentine’s cards. According to Wikipedia, its original purpose was to “exchange peperos in hopes of becoming taller and thinner”, because of course, Korea, right?

Meryl Streep on Ellen
I’m predictable but Meryl’s perfect. This is the world’s shortest rant because it’s all well-tread territory. Everyone already knows it. I mean, just try not to laugh when she’s reading the traffic report while mimicking a woman in labour. You simply can’t do it!