63 Building

Looking for something closer to home, and offering one-stop fun, we went a few km down the road to Korea's golden landmark, which for about a year after it was finished (1985) was the tallest building in Asia. Technically, it has 60 storeys above ground and 3 below, which is where some of the main attractions are. For about $27 Cdn per adult (kids under 4 free), you can go to the top floor observation deck, watch an Imax movie, and visit the aquarium. Plus free parking. (We skipped the wax museum.) The top also hosts travelling art exhibitions, and thus bills itself as the world's highest art gallery. The views are pretty good in all directions, and it makes a nice complement to Namsan Tower on the other side of the river. The Han River is crossed by something like 20 (actually more) bridges, which makes for one of the major aesthetic elements in the Seoul panorama; tall buildings and craggy hills in all directions round out the picture.

The aquarium was the kids' favourite, of course. It's not as large as the one across town at COEX, but kept us busy for the better part of two hours. Zoos and aquaria in Korea, while usually not alarming, do not have the rigid "pure science" ethic that the most serious institutions abroad do. There is generally an entertainment element that doesn't have much to do with wildlife conservation. (We've also noted a tendency to amp up the visitor experience by cramming enclosures full with as many animals as will fit. No more peering hopefully for the lone specimen in the back corner, as often happens in zoos at home.) Anyway, the main tank here at 63 Building features a nearly-continuous dancing mermaid show (video below), as well as some spunky floor performers (not shown) in fairy godmother and ballgown attire, whose thespian antics were sadly on lost on us. Yet another of those occasions where it would have been nice to have had really any idea as to what was going on.

In today's final installment, you'll hear me promising Jamie ice cream if he'll let a tiny fish nibble on his finger. (This "Dr. Fish" skin reinvigoration is a big spa thing here.) He consented, briefly; unfortunately, the creatures seemed little interested in his diminutive digit. That's my finger in the shot. I got a few bites. I really wanted that ice cream.

Icheon Ceramics Village

Another in the series of day trips around Seoul. (Blogger dates an entry from when it's started, not when it's posted, which is why it looks like you're not seeing this until about five days later -- with this in mind, please scroll down to make sure you haven't missed any other new additions over the holiday season.) There are a number of smaller towns and villages just to the southeast which make up one of the historic heartlands of the Korean pottery industry. This goes back to the middle ages (in European time) and at one point Korea was second only to China in ceramics technology. There is a good, and free, introductory museum in Gwangju (not to be confused with the larger and better-known city of the same name farther south), and a number of artisans and production sites down the road in the villages around Icheon (not to be confused with Incheon, on the other side of Seoul, where the airport is, or Ichon, a neighbourhood in Seoul.)

We didn't actually see any potters or kilns in action, but looked around a bit and did some token shopping (at the generic store, nothing by a specific artisan. However, the store people did bring us little cups of tea on wooden saucers as we were looking around.) We might have stayed longer but it was starting to snow. As noted in a previous post, the return journey took 4.5 hours, though I read later in the paper that the traffic disaster that occured that afternoon was not to be considered normal or acceptable. The explanation had something to do with the fact that it started snowing a bit earlier than expected, which caused the usual response plan to collapse. (In the photo collage, you'll see someone shoveling with a large signboard -- don't forget that collages in all posts are clickable to view large versions.)

Anyway, this region is not very far away, and I'm sure we'll go back in better weather. I don't know that we really got into the thick of things on this first visit. The most famous spot, Haegang, is that of the founder of the reborn industry (like so many things here, there was a significant interruption due to the Japanese colonial period and then the Korean War), including a museum and working area. The pieces are rather pricey, but it's fun to look through the reject heap of broken shards.

Ganghwa Island

Here's another popular and very worthwhile day trip from Seoul, to Ganghwa-do (Island), at the mouth of the Han river (immediately south of the DMZ), listed as two hours away, but drivable in one. It's a decent-sized place, of which you can do a lap in one day, but to see the many attractions you need more time. It's great because it offers a "royal sampler" of Korean history and culture: pre-historic dolmens, working fishing villages, ancient Buddhist temples, and 19th-century fortifications. Although not that distant from the mainland, the island was used as a strategic retreat on a couple of occasions in the last 700 years at times of foreign invasion (a recurring theme in Korean history). Its cannon also saw action, believe it or not, against US and French vessels in the late nineteenth century. (Don't worry, I didn't know this either.) Finally, it also apparently has one of the largest tidal ranges in the world (after the Bay of Fundy), but we had to leave the Tidal Flat Centre to be explored for another time. To note, the temple shown above (Jeondeungsa), while not an enormous complex, has some fantastic decorative elements and interiors, quite the equal of what we saw in Japan. (NB. to readers that the "swastika" is very old Buddhist symbol, often used as a icon to indicate temples here.)

We had lunch in a harbourside place in one of the larger fishing villages, watching the small vehicle ferry to the outer islands load and unload. The setting was not completely unlike that on one of BC's Gulf islands (one of the regular ones, not super-fancy). The waitress promptly spirited Jamie away and sat him down by the pass-through where the kitchen staff could admire him. They plied him with a free lunch and a bottle of Coke. We repatriated him to our table before too long, but at the end of it, the staff somehow got him to bow. Did he learn this at school? We hadn't seen it before and were impressed.

Harmonious City, Happy Suwon

One of the first day trips we did outside the city was to Suwon, which is very nearby and just to the south of Seoul. It's about a million people in its own right; Korea's eighth-largest city, or so I've read. But this isn't wikipedia.

It's known for its old fortifications, designed and built in the late 18th century on "scientific" principles. The main attractions are recreations and reenactments of various events and activities, but these don't run in the winter. So our visit was mainly for reconnaisance, to go at a quieter time. In fact, we found a lot of the restaurants in town were closed on a Sunday, although the street markets were in full swing. There was a bit of snow in the air. It's a slight climb up to the old wall in places, but worth it for the view. When we go back, we'll ride the little train ("with teeth") to see more of the walls.

Korea has a fair allotment of ancient to moderately old structures, mostly dating to the Joseon era, which isn't all that specific a designation, as it covers over 500 years from 1392 to 1910. However, where structures haven't survived due to war and foreign occupation, the Korean government has been rapidly rebuilding. So at any given site, there may be some original buildings and some that have been reconstructed in the last few years. This can give a striking sameness to many of the palaces, etc, in terms of design, materials, building techniques and decoration. However, I suppose in due course these new buildings will age too, and the niceties of "authenticity" will begin to fade with time. After all, some of Canada's top historic attractions (Ste-Marie among the Hurons, Fortress of Louisbourg) are entirely modern reconstructions as well.

Would you, could you, in a car?

Not too long ago, we finally got all the paperwork, insurance, plates, etc done for our car, and have thus been able to expand our horizons within and beyond Seoul. (By "we," I mean all the work was done by very helpful co-workers.) The vehicle is a 2000 Volvo S40, perhaps the only one of its kind in Korea, for all I know. It was purchased from a departing colleague who needed to get rid of it in a hurry, and it had the overwhelming virtue of already being parked in the garage at work. (This is one of these elevator-type loading systems where you drive your car in and then it gets whisked away. Fun for Jamie to watch.) It was first used in Ankara, so all the original service records are in Turkish.

So far we have replaced the battery and the tires (while shopping at Costco... "your time is valuable"), but the rubber on the windshield wipers still flaps semi-uselessly. They stock many sizes of wiper blades in Korea, but not the special ones for Volvo. So far I am on my fourth attempt to take it into to a dealer service centre for a proper inspection. This is mainly due to my scheduling challenges, and also to my overestimation of my ability to read Korean websites. (Somehow I managed to show up at the sales centre, not at the dealer's service location, nor at the other dealer's location, where the appointment had actually been made. And even that was with help.) Most recently, when I explained that it was an older vehicle, they asked if I would be bringing in my own oil.

I have learned that you need to get a ticket when you go on the toll highway, otherwise you will be in slight trouble when you leave. But I have not yet figured out which red lights the other drivers will stop at and which ones they will consider optional. So the New Jersey driving experience has been helpful, but not sufficient. There is also a knack to reading the road signs and traffic flow patterns, as there is in any new city/country. But of course, in other places, the signs are not in Korean. I think I might have figured out "heavy congestion ahead." Interestingly, while streets do have names, they are not much used, and are only occasionally shown on maps or signs. It's all done by landmarks.

This afternoon, a combination of the season's first snow and typical Sunday night traffic hit us coming home from our outing. It had taken about 1hr 15mins to get to this area, famous for ceramic production, maybe 40 km from Seoul. The trip home, non-stop, took 4hrs 30mins: no joke. From everything we've heard, this is not that unusual. In one or two places, we had to give up and change routes because the way was blocked by stationary vehicles. On the plus side, this finally gave the car stereo enough time to give us another chance to re-enter the anti-theft code, bringing the radio back to life (after I accidentally locked it, post-battery change). There was a very interesting traffic report stating nothing more than that conditions outside the city were very bad, and inside the city it was really no better. Apparently there are some downsides to not using street names.

We also had a chance to hear (for the first time, naturally) the countdown of the top 20 "hits" of 2009 on the way home. You know you're old when... but that's another story.

De-Militarized Zone

Here are some photos from a tour I went on to the nearby and famous DMZ earlier this month. It was a pretty clear day, but a bit chilly outside. (The lone North Korean guard showed no inclination to wander down to check out yet another busload of visitors.) I liked the model of the locality in the theatre at OP Dora. You also get to go down into a rather low tunnel the North Koreans tried to dig under the line, but no photos are allowed there.

It was interesting to see how the whole set-up at the Joint Security Area was meant to be a temporary arrangement, with just the basic huts for the UN and the Neutral Nations Supervisory Commission (which is now down to Sweden and Switzerland on a full-time basis, history having taken Poland and "Czechoslovakia" down a different path). Today, the Military Demarcation Line signs are rusted but other deterents are still being maintained.

Besides its notoriety as a relic of the locally-unfinished Cold War, the DMZ is famous these days for wildlife. It's true, there did seem to be plenty of birds around. Many visitors to Seoul are able to work a DMZ tour into their itinerary, and it's certainly worth a look, if you can arrange it.

String, Paper, Scissors

Before I moved to Seoul, my Korean teacher, despairing of ever teaching me the language, set about trying to convey something of Korean culture. She gave me a gift: a hanji mirror embellished with maedup knotwork and housed in a bojagi silk bag - none of which I could identify at the time. She also presented me with many many free government publications about Korean Cultural Heritage that explained the "ample reasons" why Koreans take such pride in their handicrafts. Once I moved to Seoul, my local Global Village Centre was keen to advance my education on these matters. I have since, dutifully, taken classes in gluing paper, making tiny stitches on patchwork, and tying string into knots.

I am very bad at all of these things. They all require discipline and patience - and I haven't any. On one occasion my Hanji teacher ripped apart my lamp making clucking noises with her tongue and proceeded to use my work as the demonstration piece for the class, thus ensuring that she, and not I, did all the tricky bits. My Bojagi teacher suggested once that I try to sew stitches that were "smaller, closer together, neater and ... more even," and then just confined herself to comments like "you did your homework very ..." and "maybe ironing would make it more beautiful ?" My Maedup teacher - who mostly laughed at me and admired my baby (Iris always comes along to school with me as distraction) - was amazed when after an hour of instruction I finally held up a completed knot: "Oh wow," she would say breathlessly as if I was some sort of signing chimpanzee.

Despite being very unskilled, I really enjoy Korean crafting and have been spending my idle hours at home making bojagi hangings, knotted wristbands, and wondering which articles of my government-issued furniture would look best with paper glued on them. The image above shows some of my work as well as examples of what the stuff is really supposed to look like. (also a picture of Dasik tea cakes from a class that I took Jamie to so he could see Mommy's school and press some flavored rice powder into beautiful wooden molds). Thanks to the tender tutelage of my demanding instructors, I can now identify Korean craft, and recognize its worth. With greater appreciation for these handicrafts (Important Intangible Cultural Properties), comes greater desire: now I covet. Of course I should pay a small fortune for a silk bogagi wall-hanging - look it's perfectly finished on both sides - do you know how hard it is to make it come out like that? Why wouldn't I buy that tourist souvenir with a knotted tassel (IICP#22: maedupjang) - that's a chrysanthemum knot - they are very tricky. Now if only I could find a dragonfly knot or that male butterfly one and wow - do you see that ring-knot - that one turned my finger blue when I tried it at home. But surely you see that I must have those sheets of hand-laid paper (IICP#117: hanjijang) - it's so versatile - I could make dolls or walls or floors or screens or rope, or armor!

So far I have not succumbed to the urge to make major financial investments in the Korean handicraft markets, though I did convince (amazingly by using only hand-gestures) a knot-maker in a traditional clothing market to sell me, not a finished knot, but some of her supplies so that I could keep practicing at home (but not the hand-wrapped-silk-cord dyed with only natural pigment). I may figure out the difference between the life-knot and the death-knot yet - though as it stands I can only do 3 of the 33 traditional knots that I need to know. My fine-sewing will never amount to much I fear, but at least I now have a use for the four giant bins of fabric scraps I carted over here (but oh - of course I should instead buy that naturally-dyed, hand-woven silk or that traditional ramie cloth . . . . it would make it more beautiful). As for Hanji , I am taking another class in January and will be soon gluing Korean mulberry paper (longer and stronger than Japanese mulberry paper - it ventilates well, it isolates well and finally it is sheen and translucent - it will last a thousand years) onto my very own Tea Table or Little Chest of Drawers. Now, if only I could apply the "neatly and more even" principle to the rest of my life: today crafting - tomorrow the world!

Pali-Pali

Pali-Pali (quick-quick), is an expression used to convey the rapidly changing, fast pace of life, particularly for the company man, here in Korea. Same holds for the expat mom I guess. Today is the first day in over a month that I have nothing planned, and only one child to tend to. No parties, lunches, classes, school closures, sick babies, hospital visits, household maintenance workers, play-dates, haircuts, shopping excursions etc. So other than periodically stopping to fish something out of Iris' mouth, or fish Iris out of the wet shower stall, or maybe bake some fish, I have time (knock wood) to blog. But it will have to be quick-quick, so bear with me.
At the end of October we went to Japan for a short visit. Here are some photos (out of order as usual - thanks Blogger frustrating image interface)
Here we are in Nara, just outside Kyoto. Nara is known for beautiful shrines and temples, local hand crafts, and free-roaming sacred deer. Old ladies sell cookies especially to feed deer (although I saw many young school boys daring each other to eat them as a joke). We bought some, and consequently were rushed by these very eager messengers-of-the-gods, intent on eating, not only our senbei cookies, but also our paper bags, picnic lunch, back-pack straps, and the dangling toes of our baby. Don't know what they told the gods about us, but we had a few choice words about them.

Here is Kasuga Grand Shrine, a Shinto shrine with over 3000 bronze and stone lanterns (we just missed the August festival where they were all lit at once). Our guidebook kept describing everything in the region as "atmospheric," but indeed the wooded paths surrounding the shrine lined with stone lanterns were compelling.

Here we are in Tokyo with our friends Tomomi, Mike and Takashi. We visited palace gardens, historic neighbourhoods, temples, aquariums, and shopping streets. We ate at many izakaya, took a boat trip, and learned how to use the trains. Best of all though was the chance to visit with our friends and see Jamie and Takashi running and playing together.

Oh look, here is Fushimi Inari shrine, where my father's house is, in Kyoto. Another "atmospheric," "evocative" and "magical" place. The paths though the bamboo forest are lined with 10,000 torii and as the light changes and the gates and paths glow orange, you feel a long way from Pali-Pali urban Seoul.

Here we are in and around Kyoto. We visited temples (many) and a palace, and gardens and neighbourhoods known for sights or shops or history. We visited family and friends of family. We took trains and taxis. I think it rained. Travelling with two tiny kids leaves little time for travelogues, and coming back to photos after 6+ weeks - well y'know. I really like Kyoto, everything is beautiful there - perfectly composed spaces, very picturesque - lovely food, tidy wrappings, efficient transportation. We will go back in a time with longer daylight, and have a more organized itinerary - it's only a few hours away after all.

Oops - back to Nara. Nara is home to Todaiji Temple. It houses the great Buddha statue, standing 30 metres tall and boasting other impressive stats like the fact that his hair is composed of 966 bronze balls. At the top of the photo you can see Jamie crawling through a pillar. The hole in the pillar is the size of the Buddha's nostril, and if you can fit through it you are guaranteed a place in heaven, or enlightenment, or something. There was a very long line of children waiting for their turn to crawl thorough the nostril. Some of the bigger ones had their friends yanking them though, but tiny Jamie was a shoo-in. The red-aproned fellow is Pindola, a wooden statue so well-worn because he is believed to heal pains if rubbed on the corresponding part of his body.

Here we are in and around Nara. It was very nice to have some family time since everyone has been and still is so busy. Pali-Pali doesn't do much for domestic bliss. But on this day the weather was fine, the leaves were changing, and we were all relaxed, well as relaxed as you can be if one of you is practically three-years-old.

This is the house, and its environs, to which I was carried as a newborn babe. There are only a few homes on the mountain of Fushimi Inari, and most, as you see, have been abandoned and are falling down. It's nice that my children had a chance to see the house while it is still occupied, and remains intact. Although life moves slower in a forested mountain shrine, time and change are unrelenting.

And, in November, we were back in Seoul. Here is sweet Iris. She had a fever last week-end. In Canada we learned that the eternal ER waits with fevered babies were not really designed to improve matters, so we dosed her with Tylenol and waited it out. She was still pretty sad on Wednesday, so we braved the Korean-language-barrier and took her to the International Clinic at our local hospital. There was much going back and around and through from interpreter to cashier to doctor to cashier to lab to interpreter to doctor to cashier to pharmacy to interpreter etc. We declined a chest x-ray and a "liquid therapy" IV drip, and waited through three applications of sterile bags and five hours before we had an acceptable sample for further tests. We were given much powdered medicine in tiny serving-sized plastic bags (bottom left) and told to return in two days. Friday we were back and a similar series of stops and starts revealed that Iris had an infection. We declined four days of hospitalization and more IV and instead we were given different medicine (top left) and told to return in a week for a sonogram. What have we learned? Very little. Iris is fine now, though finishing her course of antibiotics which means I have to mix various liquids and powders at each mealtime making me feel a bit like medieval apothecary. Korean hospitals are very orderly and thorough, with enough machines and tests and medicines to make my socialized-medicine-based-heart weep. We can't just randomly say no to half of their suggestions on principle, but translation is only offered in general terms "it is considered helpful," "some think it is needful," and doctors here aren't used to having to explain themselves least of all in another language. I'm sure on this occasion everything will be fine, and we will continue to explore our medical options. They love hospital stays here, so we are are spoilt for choice I guess.

Hey remember that bridge on Montmartre that they were building in September (photo top left)? Well here it is all done (Pali-Pali). It is supposed to look like a silk worm. There was an opening ceremony for which they repainted all the lamp-posts copper, but Jamie didn't want to climb the mountain. We can now walk very far from mountain-top to mountain-top enjoying local scenery. Provided, of course, that we don't bring a stroller and our three-year-old (who hates Pali-Pali when it involves walking) doesn't ever see a dog.

Here are some funny signs and photos of Insadong and Namdaemun markets. We aren't getting out and about nearly enough these days - but luckily three years offers much scope for exploration. We have taken possession of our car. We have mostly been stuck in traffic, lost in expensive parking garages, and searching for parts (so far it needs new wipers and a new battery), so it hasn't been the greatest boon, but we have faith that it will help with Pali-Pali somehow.

So that about wraps up the fall. There were persimmon trees (persimmons have found their way into curry, vegetable feta pasta, banana bread, mulled wine and baby food here at the homestead); there were woven tree-warmers; there were trips to the playground and endless walks up and down hill to school. We had our first snowfall on the weekend; the ondol-heated floors are warming our toes, and the weather is turning frosty. The Christmas trees are up, so here's hoping that things will slow down a little over the holiday season. Until then, think Pali-Pali (빨리빨리) and get a move on!

Yes Man

In the Jim Carrey movie Yes Man (which we accidentally borrowed shortly after our arrival in Seoul), the lead character is forced to say Yes to every experience that comes his way. This is actually (though we hope not unduly influenced by Mr. Carrey) how we have been orchestrating our introduction to Seoul Life. Yes, I will take your paper-gluing craft class (and 3 more classes besides); Yes, I will go to your all-French coffee mornings (and meet you weekly to listen to you burble about your babies en francais); Yes, I will hire your housekeeper, I will teach English to your Kindergarten class (wait, I won't, but I will work for YOU for three hours a week if I can do it from home); Yes, I will have half the office over for Thanksgiving dinner; Yes, I will come to your house for coffee and yours for lunch, and yours for playtime and meet you at the public baths. Yes I will invite you and you and all of your husbands and children over to my house for a third birthday party; Yes I will host a baby shower for two women I only just met, and a third I know only by reputation. Yes, I will learn your language and eat your food and watch your movies and YES, of course I will bring my babies on a day-long-adventure digging ginseng in the demilitarized zone.

You may not realize this, but Paju-Gaesong ginseng has the power to fight off AH1N1 and to bring about peaceful reunification of North and South Korea. This was primarily demonstrated to us via taekwondo and B-boying, featuring dancers in Kim Jong-il masks, virus costumes, and ginseng suits. It was surprisingly entertaining. (Hopefully the collage above will expand to a large format if you click on it. That's a Finnish person holding Jamie's hand in the top right corner.)

When we (the tour group of foreigners) got to the festival, we were told there would be a parade to entertain us, and shown where to stand. Then, it became apparent that we were actually in the parade. After the performances, there was a slight delay before being bussed to ginseng field, as the musicians had to get there first to pipe us in. (But with traditional Korean instruments, no pipes.)
Believing there was ginseng enough for all, we disembarked leisurely, and were last to the field, which when we got there was a teeming mass of people wielding small garden implements in the rain-softened soil. Everyone had bags and bags of ginseng. I found a couple of broken root-ends, which I think weren't really dug up, but just discarded. But then the tour guide gave us a courtesy sack of ginseng to make us feel better. It's in our fridge (the kimchi fridge) awaiting inspiration.

After stopping off at the festival once more, the day was over and we set off for Seoul. Saturday evening traffic being what it is, what had been a 45-minute outward journey turned into a 2-hour trek back to the drop-off point. Luckily we had ginseng candy to eat on the bus.

Yes Man is especially apropos because in the film, one of the things Jim Carrey acquiesces to is learning Korean. Sadly, he has a great deal more success with the language than we. But at least

we're saying yes.

잘 먹겠습니다 - jal meokkesseumnida

The title, I think, means "enjoy your meal," but could be translated as "eat as much as you like" or "get stuffed." We have been doing many forms of stuffing this last fortnight leading to Chuseok day (Korean thanksgiving). Here, for example, is Jamie with some deer at Seoul Forest Park. These deer, though not stuffed, are regularly stuffed full of whatever people choose to feed them. Feeding the animals anything that seems edible (popcorn, candy floss, sticks) seems to be a frequent occurrence at zoos around the city. Here, however, a nice couple gave Jamie a plastic glove and filled his palm with dried corn to feed to the deer. (That's his gloved hand at the bottom left) Bottom right is Jamie pointing to the photo-map of the deer "we already saw these ones and these ones but we still have to see this one."
We've been having some varied food experiences here now that we are trying to move beyond only going to restaurants with pictures and pointing. We had a steaming bowl of gelatinous beef organs in spicy broth that we had to leave largely uneaten the other day, and I made Brian buy me a big bowl of dukbokki (hot and spicy rice cake) that, it turns out, is not my favourite - but maybe it was just park-fast-food version that was the problem. I stuffed myself with crab juk (rice porridge) for my anniversary lunch, and yesterday we had some tasty BBQ pork flavored with miso sauce, sesame oil, garlic and green onions and wrapped in lettuce (sam-gyup-sal / 삼겹살) that was great once the server showed us how on earth we were supposed to prepare and eat it. We also enjoy buying random things in convenience stores and trying them out: red-bean Popsicles, Samgak gimbap 삼각김밥 with mystery stuffing (great value - 2/$1.50 and usually tasty), and strange drinks. Here is some melon milk and some tomato grapefruit juice (tomatoes are a fruit here - we had them on our waffles with whipped cream last week). The top picture is a ham sandwich we bought for Jamie, it was also stuffed with macaroni egg salad. He seemed to like it.

Seoul Forest, where we stuffed ourselves with the picnic food above, is one of the largest parks in the city. It has the deer as well as multiple playgrounds, picnic sites, playing fields and bike paths. Despite some no-bikes/no-dogs signage, many people rented and rode bikes with great enthusiasm. This is the location where the bicycle-riding scenes of the famous mini-series "Winter Sonata" were filmed. It is now a favorite location for "romantic couple story" or "together with sweetheart love dream" afternoons. Top centre you may see a young couple enjoying this wholesome past time.

After the park, we walked along the river to Tukseon Resort metro station. The river is spanned by many massive bridges that seem to do loops and turns just to prove that they can. Construction projects aplenty dot the riverbanks. There is a new climbing wall (and some climbing-wall-art to celebrate). There is a new walking trail with warnings by a cute cartoon construction man telling us not to follow his lead as he plunges to his death with a tear in his eye. They are also building a long white tube in mid-air (the panorama - see plan top right) for no apparent reason, but it will be done in time to "say bye-bye to 2009" and though yet half-built, currently houses a display of multi-media art. No wasting public space, even if it is a construction zone. The riverside is also home to many playgrounds, exercise equipment parks, and swan pedal boats. We like the fact that every time we venture out we find something new and unexpected to do. On our walk Jamie found this:

Yes, it is a giant bouncy-castle-fun-zone (in summer, a water-park). Jamie was amazing as he climbed and bounced and slid with abandon "I'm slidding!" - not in the least fazed by the big kids, great heights and uneven bouncy surfaces. I don't think I have ever seen him THAT happy before.
Chusok day (Saturday), we decided to take advantage of the relative quiet (many people go back to their hometowns for family activities) and take the kids to one of the many amusement parks in the Seoul area. This one is LotteWorld: "Children will be joyful and the whole family will be happy!" It is both an indoor and an out door amusement park. We were confined to rides that could be enjoyed by those under 100cm and under 36 months, but that was okay. Jamie found many trains, boats, balloons and cars to drive and stuffed himself with some "European style fast food." ("Today's the happy day! The family's eating out!")

It turns out that there is free babysitting so we could have gone on some of the grown-up rides: "Hold you hand together when riding with your sweetheart! Keep your composure!" Maybe next time we can "Share the fun of the night!" with the "trip of fantasy for you and your sweetheart" that is "the love-story of two!," but on this occasion it was the love-story of four. Note: We did not stuff ourselves with "NEW! Peanut Butter Sqid" as seen bottom centre - but we were tempted. We did have some "Mexican-style fry pastry" and very cheap beer though.

LotteWorld sells many funny hats and hair ribbons. Visitors to the park took to these accessories with enthusiasm. Bottom centre you can see some sweethearts dressed identically. Couple shirts (or matching ensembles for the whole family) are very popular here ("a cute way to show others the way they feel about each other.") There are shops that cater to just this fashion desire. I once saw a very elderly woman wearing a teal and green floral blouse accompanied by her aged spouse wearing the same blouse accented with a tie in the same fabric. Sadly I have not yet mastered the ability to photograph complete strangers since I am afraid they will tell me to get stuffed.

LotteWorld is also home to a folk museum and a miniature village. 2000 stuffed dolls in over 40 dioramas all hand-crafted with tiny accessories. I thought it was very fun - Jamie wanted to ride more trains.

We took home some souvenirs. We tried out the sticker booth, also fun once the young staffer pushed all the buttons for us and helped us design our final products. And look - it's a bee with Iris' face! She did get stuffed!

Last weekend was Brian's birthday -and yes there was stuffing involved. We raided the high-end department store (Shinsegae) food section and bought marinated fish, specialty flavored rice, meat skewers, sushi, BBQ ribs, etc. Everything was wrapped with great care - the sushi, for example, came in a metallic cooler bag with ice packs. But what took the cake (and we had plenty) was that the boxed chocolate dessert came with a serving knife, and inside the handle were matches and a a striking surface.

It was also our anniversary (now we've been married as long as we lived together) and moving day - yes, our stuff finally arrived by sea and our cavernous home is stuffed (well, not really - we still have much room and many empty drawers). We liked the three giant crates labelled Canadian Embassy. It made us feel important. When we first got here the information line - 114 - thought our home number was the Canadian Embassy and I fielded many calls in Korean asking for Embassy services - I did not ever say get stuffed, but it was a bit of a trial in my first 24 hours here to have the phone ringing off the hook with wrong numbers. Once again we were impressed with the ability and efficiency of the Korean moving company. Four people in a little over four hours carried in and unpacked all my things leaving nothing behind them but several tonnes of nicely shelved books and well-hidden ill-advised Costco bulk purchases. Only one item was damaged (bye-bye little red wagon), and my birth-certificate seems to have vanished, but it went well and then we all had pizza (here it comes with packets of sweet pickles - Jamie was very pleased).

We also went to Seoul Grand Park on birthday weekend. We skipped the amusement park, the rose garden and the contemporary art gallery, and instead rode the Elephant tram to the zoo (the tram was Jamie's favourite part). Apparently it is the 10th largest zoo in the world, and indeed we did not have time to visit the whole place. We were slightly surprised at the rampant animal feeding by visitors and the tendency to stuff many animals into the same enclosure (I think I saw 9 beavers huddled together eating lettuce - see bottom left), but the animals were surprisingly active, and I got to touch a lemur's toe and see an anteater having a bath. We drank some iced coffee, ordered and abandoned a strawberry slushie, and took a very scary cable car back to the gates.

Now, to reward your patience, here is a video of a snake. Zoos in Korea are to please the people, not to cater to the animals it seems. The people are pleased, and the snake can get stuffed (which he might do once he expires from all that handling). Eat well.

Villiage Idiot

Maybe it's hormones, maybe it's just being forced to sit still for 20 minutes, but there is something about nursing a baby that calms the spirit. When I began this post I was all ready to list the many many ways that I have appeared ridiculous to both my Korean and French neighbours, but now, having sent a slightly damp boy to his room and silenced a teething girl with milk, I am feeling better. I will focus on the cake in my cup, and not the cold dregs of congealing pre-sweetened instant coffee. I was told, upon moving to this neighbourhood, that I was lucky to have landed here. It's just like a village - everyone knows each other! In theory - this could be good, there always being someone to help you out, to give you advice etc. In practice, as I wend my usual chaotic, frazzled, disorganized way up and down the hills in my neighbourhood leaving cell phones, sand shovels and transit cards in my wake, It occurs to me that there are downsides to the visibility of village life. With my bright red stroller, my two blue-eyed babies, my uneven fashion sense, and my inability to communicate in either of the two languages spoken here - I became quickly known: "Oh - you're the Canadian" or "yes, we've heard about you." As I ran full out pushing a crying baby all the way from the subway to the school in order to catch pick-up time, at least 10 people called out encouragement as I sailed by. When, unable to use my door opener, I tore down the stairs and ran entirely around my building holding both children in my arms so I could let in a maintenance person who I wasn't expecting and whose purpose eluded me, many people bowed and said what I gather were helpful things. When my daughter threw up on me at the same time that my son peed all over his shoes and the non-absorbent ground of the local playground, I drew understanding nods from Korean and French mothers alike. So I may be developing a reputation as the village idiot, but at least they are nice to idiots here. People are always helping me strap and unstrap my baby in her carrier, they put me in taxis and give the driver instructions, they translate in stores and carry my shopping, stroller, or baby around the aisles. They invite me to their homes for coffee (not always instant) and suggest ways that I could make my life easier. So I get through the week - and then Brian is home and we can leave the village and appear ridiculous to the cityfolk.
Here we are, for example, at Gyeongbokgung (Palace). There are many palaces in Seoul; other than a couple of gates these are almost the only remainders of the layered history that preceded this current modern metropolis. Sole old Seoul. The palaces are good places to visit with children since they have wide-open courtyards, and often gardens, lawns or other green space to play in. This is one of the larger palaces and contains a folk museum and a palace museum (which we didn't visit on this occasion - but we will).
Iris, as usual, was a big hit. Here she is being surrounded by a group of tourists who found her more photo-worthy than the Queen Dowager's administrative picnic grounds or whatever. Their tour guide apologized to me since one of the ladies did stroller off with Iris, but when the group turned the corner and saw Jamie, they were at it again.
Speaking of Iris, if I am the village idiot, she is becoming the village mascot. At least three times a week I go to the Global Village Center ("life and convenience support for alien resident - Enjoy Seoul to the Full!"). There I can take cultural and language classes and learn practical information about local life. Photographers are present at all event to document the strange foreign women who know so little, and as Iris is present at all events as well - she is much photographed and appears on their web photopages frequently. Sadly she didn't have much to say for the radio interview, but the woman with the microphone held it up to her every time she gurgled. Generally the very friendly staff at the Global Center carry Iris about while I am gluing paper or learning to read, and the other day one of them sent me photos that she had taken of her time with Iris. Also here are three shots from the GVC webpages of my Hanji project, me gluing cardboard, and me receiving my own English translation of a French presentation about buses, mail, and garbage. Iris is chewing on the pen of my seatmate. In my Hanji class, the teacher spends her time either doing my project for me, carrying my baby, or practicing her English with me. None of these activities help my 8 French-speaking classmates learn the craft. In my Korean class my teacher is either dangling her earrings in front of my baby, holding my baby, or listening to my baby try to pronounce compound vowels. My 4 French-speaking classmates seem to have dropped out and we might hold the class at my teacher's house now so the baby will have more room to play.
Here is my village as seen from Montmartre (no really - I live in a French themepark). I dragged Jamie up this mountain with promises of playgrounds only to find more exercise equipment. Luckily one apparatus enabled you to hang upside down by your ankles, and Jamie found the sight of Mommy dangling arms swinging wildly as she tried to right herself very very funny (as did the four elderly Korean gentlemen, the baseball playing boy, and the small mean dog watching nearby). The middle photo is, I think, a magpie. They are large and very numerous around these parts. Two the left and right of the bird is a building project that will "achieve the connection of disconnected" green space. It will join two mountain tops. The sign is in French, English and Korean - just like the real Montmartre. The bridge is probably finished by now - they work very quickly in Korea.
Here is Brian's place of work where he goes everyday while we remain at home making fools of ourselves.
It is beside a tree, owned (and elaborately supported) by the people of Canada. It takes Brian about 50 minutes to get from home to work. The children and I can do in in an hour and a half. The staff is very very nice, and whenever I loiter about the door making a spectacle of myself, they invite me in and offer to call Brian. One of them translated by phone for me when I was locked out of my house. Sometime they send me things - like vacuums. They periodically drop by my apartment to count objects, and today they arranged for a group of 4 Korean men (two in ties, two in coveralls) to spend an hour and a half in my home flushing my toilets. Apparently they are all okay.
Ottawa (and London) residents will be pleased to see that we have a giant spider in Seoul too. Jamie was very happy that we had brought it along from our "old house in Ottawa CANADA." We have not only Maman here, but also bebe it seems. This is the Leeum Samsung museum of Art. Three buildings designed by three different architects. Here you may find the cream-of-the-crop of traditional Korean, and contemporary art as well as a children's learning space (group-bookings exclusively it seems). It used to be by appointment only, but as of a few months ago all of us may visit anytime we want. I was very happy to have found myself here in rooms full of familiar faces that neither see me, nor notice that I appear ridiculous. Though modern art is not always my cup of fur, it may well be my cup of cake.