My new challenge is to make 30 comics in Korean in 30 days. It's a way to practice my Korean, and also do something creative. I started yesterday.
The title is "재밌는 원어민 이야기" (Fun foreign teacher tales). Hopefully it'll also be a good way to record some of my stories of the last two years, before they all just disappear. I'll post some of them here with translations. I'm also going to try to find a Korean site, probably naver.com, where I can post them for a Korean audience.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Failed challenge: 300k in one month
This was a bigger challenge than I realized. On paper, a 10k run every day doesn't seem too bad. But during the challenge, you realize that if you skip one of those days, and then you have to absorb that 10k somewhere else.
I ended up skipping too many days in the beginning to catch up. Some days were really cold or raining, and other days I was worried about overworking my knees and feet.
The challenge did get me running on days I ordinarily would have just skipped, so that part was pretty good. I'll try this again when the weather gets a little better.
I ended up skipping too many days in the beginning to catch up. Some days were really cold or raining, and other days I was worried about overworking my knees and feet.
The challenge did get me running on days I ordinarily would have just skipped, so that part was pretty good. I'll try this again when the weather gets a little better.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Running Update
Here's what I've run so far. It's not been as clean as the schedule I originally planned.
day 1- 10k
day 2- 11.5k
day 3- break
day 4- 10 k
day 5- break
day 6- 15.5 k
That's a grand total of 47 kilometers over 6 days. Dividing the days up, I should be at 60k by now, so I'm a little behind. I've been running into some problems (haha, it's a pun) such as sore knees (the reason for my break on day 3), and some stomach problems which have limited the length of some of the runs.
Another challenge has been to accurately determine how far I've run. I've been listening to radiolab shows, which are usually about an hour long. I have a pretty good idea of how far I can run in one hour, so I then go to mapmyrun.com and try to guess where exactly I had just been running to confirm (not an easy task when you're randomly selecting alleyways around Incheon).
day 1- 10k
day 2- 11.5k
day 3- break
day 4- 10 k
day 5- break
day 6- 15.5 k
That's a grand total of 47 kilometers over 6 days. Dividing the days up, I should be at 60k by now, so I'm a little behind. I've been running into some problems (haha, it's a pun) such as sore knees (the reason for my break on day 3), and some stomach problems which have limited the length of some of the runs.
Another challenge has been to accurately determine how far I've run. I've been listening to radiolab shows, which are usually about an hour long. I have a pretty good idea of how far I can run in one hour, so I then go to mapmyrun.com and try to guess where exactly I had just been running to confirm (not an easy task when you're randomly selecting alleyways around Incheon).
Monday, October 22, 2012
Failed Challenge: Meditation
During my trip to India, I started a 30-day meditation challenge. Somewhere along the way, I got distracted and forgot. India can be a distracting country sometimes.
I liked what little meditation that I did during the challenge, so I'll probably try it again sometime.
I liked what little meditation that I did during the challenge, so I'll probably try it again sometime.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
New Challenge: 300 kilometers in 30 days
There's no better time to be running in Korea than during fall. The weather is cool, and the leaves are changing into other-colored leaves.
There was a lot of math in this post. It's making my head hurt a little bit.
My next challenge is to run a total of 300 km within 30 days. It's the same as a 10 km (about 6 miles) run every day. Impressed with my division yet? Just wait.
But instead of running every day, weekly I'm going to do 5 days of 10 km runs, 1 day off, and then a 20 km run.
Yesterday I ran around beautiful Bupyeong Park. It has a course that's exactly 1260 meters long, so 8 times around makes a perfect 10 km run. Counting to eight very slowly while running around in a circle is surprisingly challenging for me, so I used my fingers to keep track.
There was a lot of math in this post. It's making my head hurt a little bit.
Monday, September 3, 2012
bad service and a monkey battle
Filocafe, a cafe that has the distinction of having the best view I've ever experienced, while simultaneously being the worst cafe.
I ordered an iced espresso about an hour ago, when finally she brings over a lemonade and mutters something about being sorry for the wait.
Oh, I think, that's nice of them - a free lemonade because obviously some terrible disaster occurred in the kitchen that's caused all the espresso to explode.
"Free?" I need to confirm.
"No," she says. "You no order?"
No, me no order. Oh well.
A British guy, one of the only three other patrons in the cafe, comes over and claims it before things get any more confusing. "I ordered this an hour ago. I didn't think it was coming," he says.
I made my order again and wait. At any other cafe, this would be a terrifically frustrating experience. But here, I am content to wait as long as it takes. In fact, the longer the better. Because all the while, I am watching the most amazing situation unfold on the adjacent rooftop.
A tribe of monkeys has been slowly collecting on the roof. They tore down clothes that were drying on a clothesline, and started eating the buttons off of them.
Every so often, a monkey will jump the three or four feet and land on our terrace, and some kid will chase it away with a stick.
The monkeys' numbers grow and grow, when a surprised Japanese tourist pokes his head up from the stairs. He disappears and returns with a few friends and a large stick.
The three Japanese men slowly clear a path across the rooftop. A few monkeys try to hold their ground, but the man with the stick bangs it against the ground, and the monkey quickly flees.
They make it to the room on the other side of the roof, where their friends had apparently been held captive by the monkeys. Now there's about seven guys and one girl.
But the monkeys have reclaimed the roof, and taken the stairs. And this time they have the upper ground.
They slowly go back. One man is separated from the group for a few moments, and a monkey decides to challenge him. He charges the man and shrieks in his ear. The man quickly retreats to his group.
They see me watching them only a few meters away, and wave, and I tell them to keep it up, they're doing great.
But in the middle of the roof, they are completely surrounded, and the monkeys are not backing down. Neither the monkeys nor the humans want to get physical - it's a game of posturing and bluffs, and position. And the Japanese are not doing a very good job of feigning confidence and strength. I can't say I'd be any different surrounded by monkeys.
In the nick of time, an Indian guy from below rushes up the stairs, waving a huge stick, and yelling. The monkeys retreat a small distance. He starts throwing bricks at them, and the monkeys reluctantly leave.
My espresso arrives. It's disgusting and full of sugar. I can't even make myself drink it. I will never come back here again.
I ordered an iced espresso about an hour ago, when finally she brings over a lemonade and mutters something about being sorry for the wait.
Oh, I think, that's nice of them - a free lemonade because obviously some terrible disaster occurred in the kitchen that's caused all the espresso to explode.
"Free?" I need to confirm.
"No," she says. "You no order?"
No, me no order. Oh well.
A British guy, one of the only three other patrons in the cafe, comes over and claims it before things get any more confusing. "I ordered this an hour ago. I didn't think it was coming," he says.
I made my order again and wait. At any other cafe, this would be a terrifically frustrating experience. But here, I am content to wait as long as it takes. In fact, the longer the better. Because all the while, I am watching the most amazing situation unfold on the adjacent rooftop.
A tribe of monkeys has been slowly collecting on the roof. They tore down clothes that were drying on a clothesline, and started eating the buttons off of them.
Every so often, a monkey will jump the three or four feet and land on our terrace, and some kid will chase it away with a stick.
The monkeys' numbers grow and grow, when a surprised Japanese tourist pokes his head up from the stairs. He disappears and returns with a few friends and a large stick.
The three Japanese men slowly clear a path across the rooftop. A few monkeys try to hold their ground, but the man with the stick bangs it against the ground, and the monkey quickly flees.
They make it to the room on the other side of the roof, where their friends had apparently been held captive by the monkeys. Now there's about seven guys and one girl.
But the monkeys have reclaimed the roof, and taken the stairs. And this time they have the upper ground.
They slowly go back. One man is separated from the group for a few moments, and a monkey decides to challenge him. He charges the man and shrieks in his ear. The man quickly retreats to his group.
They see me watching them only a few meters away, and wave, and I tell them to keep it up, they're doing great.
But in the middle of the roof, they are completely surrounded, and the monkeys are not backing down. Neither the monkeys nor the humans want to get physical - it's a game of posturing and bluffs, and position. And the Japanese are not doing a very good job of feigning confidence and strength. I can't say I'd be any different surrounded by monkeys.
In the nick of time, an Indian guy from below rushes up the stairs, waving a huge stick, and yelling. The monkeys retreat a small distance. He starts throwing bricks at them, and the monkeys reluctantly leave.
My espresso arrives. It's disgusting and full of sugar. I can't even make myself drink it. I will never come back here again.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
We Sell Refreshing Beer - Varanasi, India
Minjeong and I are sitting in Dennis's Restaruant, in an alley maze somewhere in Varanasi, India.
We came here because we saw a sign: "시원한 맥주 팔아요!" It means "We sell refreshing beer!" It's not in Hindi, or in English: only in Korean.
There are no liquor licenses in Varanasi, so Dennis (if that is his real name) has found a creative solution that caters to those who can read the sign (knowing Korean has some surprising practical applications). Hopefully the police don't take any classes.
We ordered our bottle about 10 minutes ago, and we're still waiting for it. "Dennis" goes to the refrigerator and pulls something out from behind the Sprites. Concealing it behind his body, he beckons me over.
We go into a back room, and I watch him pour the full Kingfisher bottle into a little metal pitcher. Apparently nobody believes that the whole beer can fit into the pitcher, so now he always makes someone watch to confirm that he's not cheating them out of precious beer.
I take the pitcher back to the table, and as we enjoy our secret beer, a nearby cow pokes his head into the entryway. She waits there until Dennis comes and feeds her some bread. "She comes every day for bread."
I sip beer and wonder if bread is a good diet for cows. She seems to like it anyway; she keeps coming back.
We came here because we saw a sign: "시원한 맥주 팔아요!" It means "We sell refreshing beer!" It's not in Hindi, or in English: only in Korean.
There are no liquor licenses in Varanasi, so Dennis (if that is his real name) has found a creative solution that caters to those who can read the sign (knowing Korean has some surprising practical applications). Hopefully the police don't take any classes.
We ordered our bottle about 10 minutes ago, and we're still waiting for it. "Dennis" goes to the refrigerator and pulls something out from behind the Sprites. Concealing it behind his body, he beckons me over.
We go into a back room, and I watch him pour the full Kingfisher bottle into a little metal pitcher. Apparently nobody believes that the whole beer can fit into the pitcher, so now he always makes someone watch to confirm that he's not cheating them out of precious beer.
I take the pitcher back to the table, and as we enjoy our secret beer, a nearby cow pokes his head into the entryway. She waits there until Dennis comes and feeds her some bread. "She comes every day for bread."
I sip beer and wonder if bread is a good diet for cows. She seems to like it anyway; she keeps coming back.
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