Markets - series post

March 5, 2014

I've been spending a lot of my time on the weekends exploring the local traditional markets, but I haven't been sharing much of what I've seen. Since the last post was a bit wordy, here's a much more laconic post for you. PICTURE TIME!

You do not want to mess with the fish vendors in Yang-dong market.

A lunch break for one of the poorer merchants at Yang-dong market. Vendors like this one likely grow their own produce in whatever meagre plots of land are available around their house. The produce is often wilted, and there is never much on offer.&… — A lunch break for one of the poorer merchants at Yang-dong market. Vendors like this one likely grow their own produce in whatever meagre plots of land are available around their house. The produce is often wilted, and there is never much on offer.

Another of the poorer merchants, these vendors are unable to afford the price to rent a stall within the market proper, and so are relegated to the outskirts where they use large umbrellas to protect themselves and their produce from the elements. I… — Another of the poorer merchants, these vendors are unable to afford the price to rent a stall within the market proper, and so are relegated to the outskirts where they use large umbrellas to protect themselves and their produce from the elements. In the background, you can see the produce on offer from a slightly more well-to-do merchant.

One of the merchants with a centrally-located stall inside Yang-dong market. The boxes are used to measure out how much you get when you make a purchase from a vendor. The boxes are always over-flowing to show what a good deal you get. I have no ide… — One of the merchants with a centrally-located stall inside Yang-dong market. The boxes are used to measure out how much you get when you make a purchase from a vendor. The boxes are always over-flowing to show what a good deal you get. I have no idea what she's selling.

Though the streets through the markets are actually quite wide, many merchants display their wares in the road itself, thus choking them to narrow, winding paths. Despite little room for error, motorcycle-delivery men cruise through at breakneck spe… — Though the streets through the markets are actually quite wide, many merchants display their wares in the road itself, thus choking them to narrow, winding paths. Despite little room for error, motorcycle-delivery men cruise through at breakneck speeds. No one in the market bats an eye.

A new travel game! - Misadventures by Bus

March 3, 2014

Bus stop in the factory district of Gwangju. #92 to #20 transition.

Yesterday (Sunday), I decided that I wanted to explore Gwangju a bit more than I have so far. I thought that Mr. Kang was going to take John and me out to Naju to help his wife campaign for a position in the local government, but he never showed up. So, I walked to the bus stop, and on the way, I decided to play a new travel game that I made up. The name is in flux, but for now, we'll call it "The Bus Game."

Basically, you walk to the local bus stop, and take the first bus that comes by. It doesn't matter if you know where that bus goes, or not. Then, you ride said bus as far as the outside remains interesting. When it gets boring, or you just want to hop off for some reason, hop off. Explore where you are for a while and then catch a different bus going the other way. Get off when it gets interesting. Continue until you're too tired to keep going.

Construction site by the bus stop where I transferred from the #92 to #20.

So, the best thing about this game here in Gwangju is that, if you have a Hanpay card, transfering buses within an hour is free. This means I get to hop off one bus, go take some pictures of whatever I find interesting in this area, and then hop on a different bus for free. I'm not sure if you have this ability where you live, but if you do, I recommend playing this game. I played all day for less than $3USD. I did hop on the subway for a while, which cost me an extra $1. I thought the transfer rate would apply, but it did not. Oh wells...

So, today I didn't follow strict rules, I was making them up as I went along. The first bus I took was apparently a work bus, the #92. It zig-zagged its way through factories and plants. Interestingly, because it was Sunday, I was the only person on the bus. That's the first time this has happened to me in Gwangju where public transit is used by a great number of people. Take any express bus during the weekend and you will not get a seat. Anyway, after the 15th factory/chemical plant I decided that it was time to exit the bus. I happened to be next to a construction site, and that was the most interesting thing in the area, so, aside from the ground, that's what I took pictures of.

So, this is as interesting as the area around Sangmu Subway station got...

Once another bus finally pulled up, a #20, I hopped on it, and it took me back to central Gwangju, and through some areas I actually recognized. Recognized areas are boring. I know the #98 bus can take me to these places because I've passed them before. I ended up riding until I saw a stop for Sangmu Subway Station. Oh! The Subway! I haven't ridden that yet! I hop off at the Sangmu Subway Station stop and take a couple pictures that were halfway interesting, but honestly, at this point I'm out past the airport and the only things I see are an outlet mall and apartments.

Quick point: all the apartments in Gwangju look the same. No, seriously. There's about three different designs for apartments. I'm pretty sure this means that there's three companies building them and they just use the same design over and over because it's cheaper. Wouldn't you?

Anyway, so I'm in this terribly dull area of Gwangju. There's nearly nothing to photograph. I walk around a few blocks and everything is less than ten years old. I'm bored. Okay, maybe newer buildings are interesting to you, but they aren't to me. I hate new buildings. I'm so, so bored by most modern architecture.

Quick side note. We just finished the winter semester at the academy where I teach, and the last unit in one of the books I teach is about architecture. Specifically, it's about modern architecture. So, the first class I teach this unit to, I don't really explain architecture. Rookie mistake. I don't show them what I mean when I say "Modern Architecture." And the essays I get back from the kids are along the lines of "I like modern architecture because it has modern conveniences, like elevators." Oh, you lazy shits. "I like modern architecture because it lasts longer because it isn't built of dirt and grass." Wait, seriously? You want to compare modern architecture to buildings made 1,000 years ago? (Little did I know, traditional Korean architecture is insulated with dirt... more on that in another post.) "Modern architecture is better than older architecture because it is more colorful." Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Have you NOT been out to the places I have? Have you not seen the wonderful, beautiful colors painted on the undersides of the traditional roofs at temples? Their idea of colorful is colorful windows, or a building painted entirely pink.

So, for the other class using the same book I begin to describe architecture in more detail. I draw examples of older architecture and modern architecture on the board. I open the window of the classroom and I say, "What do you see? What is out there?" I explain how nothing in modern architecture is superfluous. There are no additions to the buildings that are unnecessary. The area around the structures is designed to make people want to live there. The playgrounds and parks are designed to entice parents. The exercise machines are designed to entice older couples. Everything is there for a reason! And this time, despite the fact that these students are at a lower lever than the other class, I still got better essays out of them. "I think modern architecture is simple in design." Yes. "I think modern architecture has useful features, like air conditioning." Oh, god, yes. I even got one student who wrote "I think modern architecture has very useful features like air conditioning, but I would still like to try to live in [traditional] Korean-style housing." I got through to him. He understood what I was trying to teach, and I got through to him. Sometimes I love my job.

That wasn't very quick, was it? Anyway, end tangent, back to the main story!

So, I'm in a boring area of Gwangju. But I'm near a subway station! I walk around, see what I can see, yawn, and go down to the subway. My Hanpay works for the subway! Score, and thank you, information desk! I head down multiple flights of stairs and magically pick the side that is headed towards the area of town I am familiar with.

At this point, I get off the train, basically conceding the game because I know where I am. How dull is that? But, I have to stop by my bank to pick up some cash, so I'm not too worried about that. There's only one location for my bank here in Gwangju, so unless I want to pay money to access my money, I really want to stop by the location. Granted, ATM fees here usually fall between 50 and 90 cents USD. Are you jealous of me yet? I'm still too much of a penny-pincher to want to spend that, so I do try to stop by my bank when I want to make a withdrawal.

So, I'm in old downtown at this point, which I know far too well. I go and look for a shot that didn't quite make it yesterday, but it's blocked by a car. I decide to walk around and find a dead fish in the river, which I feel is worth a shot, despite my lack of tripod.

I cheated, I actually took this picture my first weekend in Gwangju, but this is where I ate Odeng.

After the dead fish, I'm feeling hungry, so I head to my friend HY's crepe shop, which is closed. This is bad news for me, but good for him. He closes when he sells all of his crepe batter, so I know he made money, but it means that I don't get to eat delicious crepes. Win-lose situation here. I keep walking toward the bus that I know will take me home (game over, remember?). Near the bus stop I decide to stop for what has become one of my favorite cold-weather street foods. It's called Odeng (오뎅). It's basically fish-meal mixed with flour cooked in a broth of fishy juice. It's super cheap, and the great thing is that you can drink as much fishy-juice broth as you want while you're there. The funny thing about eating odaeng on the street is the weird looks you get from the other people eating there. I interpret the looks as "Does this white-guy know what he's eating?" "Why is this white person eating at my favorite food-stall?" and the one that is actually voiced: "Where are you from?"

This time was nice, because I walked up and started eating just before another woman walked up and ordered the exact same thing I did. By the time she was pretty much done eating she offered me most of what was left of her topokki (톡폭키?)(rice cakes in a spicy sauce). It was awesome, and a good end to my game.

As a final move in the game, I did decide to take a bus that would take me almost home, but not quite, just so I would have the chance to walk home, and see some sights along the way.

So, long story longer, that's my new travel game! It's an opportunity to purposefully misadventure, which I love, and an opportunity to see some stuff I've never seen before, which I love even more. I hope some of you keep the new travel game in mind and play again by yourselves, and even more-so, I hope you share your misadventure with me!

Take a seat - series post

February 27, 2014

One thing I've noticed since I got to South Korea is how many people around here seem to just put chairs anywhere. So far I haven't seen anyone sitting in them, but I did start taking pictures of them. I'm hoping this will be a continuing series, and it will as long as I keep finding chairs everywhere I go. Anyway, here's the beginning.

Jazz Bar

Under a bridge near my home in Singa-Dong.

Patio Seating

This chair was sitting next to a collapsing building and a shrine-stone of some sort.

Conversation Piece

Two chairs in the partially collapsed remains of a building.

Inversion Chair

Chairs in a doorway in Yang-dong market, near downtown Gwangju.

I'm going to try doing more of these series posts. Fewer words, just as much misadventure. Until next time, go get lost, just to have the opportunity to be found again.

Daenamugol - Damyang Bamboo Forest

February 24, 2014

A visit to Daenamugol (대나무골), a bamboo forest in Damyang (다먕), South Korea.

Traditional buildings peeking through the bamboo in Daenamugol

A couple of weekends ago was Valentine's Day weekend. A time for smarmy romantic comedies and spending too much for chocolates that will be 80% off the next day. I'm single, so none of that matters to me, except the discounted chocolates, of course. Then again, in Korea, the traditions Americans grew up with, where the man gives his sweetheart flowers and chocolates is reversed: the woman is expected to deliver gifts to the object of her affection.

I think some of my students have crushes on me...

Anyway, my friend John was paid a visit by his girlfriend, who lives up in Incheon (about 3.5 hours by bus from Gwangju), to celebrate the holiday. They were kind enough to allow me to be the third-wheel on their weekend adventures. Saturday's adventure was, as previously mentioned, to Daenamugol bamboo forest.

Before I really get going, I just want to mention a little technicality that irks me in the idea of a bamboo forest. Bamboo is not a tree. Bamboo is a grass. Really, it should be called a "bamboo field," or, at most, a "bamboo thicket." But that's just me arguing semantics, and that really isn't interesting, so for the sake of clarity, I'll just (begrudgingly) keep calling it a "forest."

Daenamugol is a place for couples. Too bad John and Fabi let me tag along...

Daenamugol, on the other hand, is fantastically interesting. Inside the park there are three square kilometers of bamboo growth. I know that doesn't really sound like much, but when you're in the midst of it, it feels like it goes on forever. I did my best to capture this feeling, but I really want to return to try again. It really is a magical place.

The bamboo towers above you, shrouding you in thick, green shadow. Though the area is packed with tourists, you somehow manage to get a sense of isolation for the nearby city. The thickets of bamboo quickly deaden sounds so that even the laughter of families and lovers just around a bend in the path are soon lost to your conscious perception. If you prick up your ears, you know you are not alone, but the ability to separate yourself so totally from the sounds of other people is something I had not yet experienced in my time here in South Korea.

A part of me feels sorry for John and Fabi for letting me tag along on their adventure to this wonderland. It's a perfect date spot. Sure, there are other couples everywhere, and the evidence of their passing is visible on nearly every bamboo pole within a meter of the trail - couples regularly carve their names into the greenery. Despite the presence of the teeming throngs of tourists, it is rather easy to separate yourself from the masses. Everywhere there are small, unpaved footpaths forking off from the main road, inviting lover's trysts even in this highly-visited area. The Koreans are not big on PDA.

Traditonal villages traditionally mean traditional kimchi pots. Which is okay, because I love kimchi, and the pots it's kept in.

From the top of the mountain inside Daenamugol during the blue hour. The lights of Damyang peek through the mists.

Aside from the lovers, Daenamugol is famous for its appearance on Korean dramas. If you want more information on that, google it, because I don't find it interesting enough to go into detail about. Sorrynotsorry.

The park is not limited to bamboo. In addition to the forest (which I nearly forgot to mention is also a nesting habitat for local birds), there is a type of traditional "theme park" aspect to the area. Traditional games (made of bamboo, of course) are set up around the park for people to play. We tried our hand at these games and found them to be much more difficult than they appeared to be. (In case you were wondering, one was like bamboo-javelin-darts, and the other was a ring-toss akin to horseshoes.) The traditional village also included what appeared to be traditional rental cottages so that you could stay in the park over the weekend if you so desired.

Because these traditional lodgings were so picturesque, and because it was Valentine's Day weekend, I thought I would try my hand at some couple's photography, which means, of course, BONUS PICTURES!

Couple's photography, Mortal Kombat style.

Despite being thoroughly worn out by the day's hiking around Daenamugol, the next day Mr. Kang had promised to wake us up exceptionally early so we could go out to Naju and celebrate his mother's and brother's birthdays. There isn't much to say here, except that we enjoyed a traditional Korean party with a lot of folks a lot older than us. This means a lot of drinking, a lot of eating, and quite a bit of singing. It was the last part that made an impression.

John and Fabi talk to Mr. Kang's mother.

Two party guests sing an elegy about the Korean War, which brings a man to tears.

Mr. Kang explains the elegy to John, and why the man is crying about it.

Until my next misadventure, hope you stay well and have a few misadventures of your own.

Seollal in Gwangju, South Korea

February 2, 2014

So, what's Seollal? You know what it is. You may not know you know, but you know. In Vietnam they refer to it as Tet, and most of the US refers to it as the "Chinese New Year." It is the new year in any culture that at some point in recent history relied on a lunar calendar. The term "Chinese New Year" is an irksome title akin to referring as the Solar New Year as "American New Year," even though the majority of the world agrees that January 1 of the Gregorian Calendar, give or take a few hours (that's what leap years are for, y'all), is the first day of the new Solar Year. But I digress...

I found this man playing his trumpet under the same bridge the last picture was taken from.

Seollal is a rather major holiday in Korea which causes the big cities to empty as families reunite in ancestral areas, usually around the countryside. This is not to say that the big cities are devoid of people, but the crowds are markedly smaller. The holiday is mostly a family holiday typified by a traditional family meal, followed by the youth bowing respectfully to their elders, and then holding out their hands for cold-hard cash. Yeah, that's how they roll here, young'uns bow, elders fork out the dough. Rad system if you're young. This system of paying off the youth in return for momentary respect leads to a relative shopping frenzy over the next few days. I ran into my friend H.Y. downtown on Friday night while he was out spending his hard-begged money as quickly as possible on his day off. Apparently he scored nearly $200US in alms.

Since I'm not Korean, and my family is across the largest body of water on this little mossy stone in space, my Seollal was just a four-day weekend without a plan. The two people who live on my floor are out of town on their own holidays, and the other three floors in my building are businesses, which are also empty, so I'm in a four-story building alone. No hanging out with the few people I know here in Gwangju. What does an intrepid-explorer-slash-photographer do with four days to himself? Walk. Walk around. See things I haven't seen before. Look for differences in things I have. Work on a couple of series. Too bad it's so rainy. Or is it?

The nice thing about the change in weather is the warmth it brings. The bad thing is the rain. The best way to ruin a four-day weekend is by having it rain. Unless, of course, you like reflections in your photographs. I've been trying to learn to use reflections, yet so far, it hasn't been working. It is also hard to take pictures while holding an umbrella with one hand, or with water on your lens. With that in mind, I have an idea for an invention that holds an umbrella over your head while you hold a camera with both hands. I'm gonna be rich.

Honestly, though, Saturday was the first warm day since I arrived in South Korea. What surprises me most is that the Koreans were, for the most part, still wearing their warm jackets and scarves. The Koreans really love to be warm. Even being a Texas boy, I was walking around with a t-shirt, a light hoodie, and loving it.

I have never, since I arrived here, seen the markets this empty.

As I walked through the concrete canyons of old downtown I noticed some interesting things about the new warmth that surrounded me. Icy air, accumulated over weeks of freezing temperatures, poured freely from open doors of the tall, mostly unheated buildings, giving a staccato effect to the warmth of the day. Cool eddies interrupted the comfort of the day as I walked the nearly empty streets. The warmth, while welcome, awakened the noisome odors that run through the city like a cancer. The warm air metastasizes the affliction. Even when the temperatures fell below freezing, the scent of the streets of downtown is often overwhelming in its putrescence. The western nose is not accustomed to such an assault, and while, for a time, I thought I was getting used to it, the weekend's weather made me realize how much I have to learn. I can't wait for summer.

Basically, this was a nice, long weekend. I had fun, but didn't get nearly as much stuff done as I wanted to. I'm writing this in the last hours I have left before I sleep and then return to work tomorrow. I wish I had gotten more done, but I'm glad I got done what I did. Until my next misadventure, do some misadventuring of your own. Get dirty this time.