Korean Baseball

I had the chance to experience Korean Baseball when one of my kid's (Jane) father took me to a Korean Pro Baseball game this past Saturday. I knew baseball was big here but I wasn't expecting what I saw. The stadium was sold out for the match between the Doosan Bears and Lotte Giants (teams are named after corporate sponsors instead of after the city they're based in). So an impressive 30,000 people turned out for a measly regular season game, one of 133 games in the season. The visiting Giants are apparently the Yankees of Korea in that they have the most fans who make a strong presence in all their away games. What was really fascinating is that fans buy tickets on the side of the stadium with their team's dugout, so that the stadium was split exactly in half, with one side having only Giants fans and the other side Bears fans.

Team's are allowed to have a maximum of two foreign players on the team, and this day's starting pitchers both happened to be Americans. Typically these are guys who can't hack it in the MLB anymore. The fans were awesome to watch and listen to. Whichever team is up to bat sees its fans get on their feet and proceed to chant and bang their thunder sticks together in perfect unison, while the other side of the stadium goes quiet, except for the occasional nice defensive play. They have a number of different chants and songs including a different one for each player when they come up to bat. Their is a stage in the middle of the crowd with cheerleaders that lead everyone in the movements and chants, and EVERYBODY takes part in it. Every person in the stadium seems to hang on and react to every single play, it was incredible. Even the kids were seriously focused on the game. One of the player's intro music for whenever he came to bat was "Shots" by LMFAO and the entire crowd would scream out "EVERYBOOODY" along with the song haha (this is Korea remember). It was all so much more thrilling than American baseball, where fans for the most part passively watch the game transpire (barring the occasional "wave" which is idiotic anyway). It was like soccer crowds but in baseball, and it made for the funnest ball game I've ever attended. I'm going to find going to American baseball games boring now I think.

Hiking Shots

The approach

Love this view of one of the towns below.

Typical sight

At the highest point

This is the section where we had to climb straight down, much more daunting in person

Sarah Ernie and I

No shot of us climbing up the rope, but this was us at the top, satisfied with ourselves

Turtle ship, two masted, portholes for cannons and windows to shoot arrows out of, and I think battering  rams at the front

This guy was hilarious, he'd play all these tricks on people when they ordered ice cream from him. This kid just wanted his flippin treat though

The last of a seafood pancake, kind've gross

Korean aircraft carrier. Smallish, only carries helicopters

Misty Mountain Hopping

             It was my birthday weekend and rather than celebrating with yet another blasé night out at the bars, I instead took a road trip to the southern tip of the Korean peninsula. For two weeks a year the cherry blossoms are in full bloom in Korea and the Cherry Blossom Festival in Jinhae is the best place to see them, so I’m told.

 But first, we had a 5+ hour hiking trip on Jagged Ridge Island planned for Saturday. Sarah, my travel companion and fellow English teacher at my school, was decked out in brand new Merrels which made me ache for my own pair that I foolishly left behind in Canada. The island featured a series of connected mountains which formed a zig-zagging continuum of jagged peaks. After an hour and a half we reached the first peak (the highest, at 400m) and the rest of the hike became an up and down affair – down a short ways from the current mountain top and up quickly again to the next. We took our time and rested often to snack, take pictures and gush at the views. From our height we could nearly take in the island’s entire circumference; looking out into the East China Sea showed yet more mountainous, but smaller islands. We quickly made friends – the trail was full of dozens of foreigners as well as Koreans who are big time hikers – and a fellow named Ernie from San Francisco fell in with us. He had quite a magnetic personality and a healthy appetite for women (fortuitous!) as well as a knowledge of everything from politics and history to flora and mathematics. 

 

Initially we were getting tired and our legs burned, but after the first hour of hiking the pain disappeared and we felt as though we could hike forever. Meanwhile, Ernie and I, under the instinctual influence of that machismo/daredevil affect which some males inspire in one another, began climbing more offbeat areas that promised to get your adrenaline pumping but also kill or seriously injure you if you slipped. We climbed up one ridge and on the other side it went straight down 90 degrees. We hesitated at first but some Koreans across the way shouted that it was indeed doable. Ernie lowered himself down first and found enough ledges to grip his way down the 25feet or so. I followed after and felt my heart pumping hard. At one point I had to hug a wall and support all my weight with my arms in this way so that I could lower my legs to the next platform. But I made it! A fellow foreigner, Will, followed soon after but was worse for the wear with bloody knees and arms. 

 

The next challenge was a rope ladder which went straight up about 45feet. We were at the bottom and wondering what was up there, but unfortunately there was a steady stream of hikers coming down the ladder and thus blocking us. My curiosity unabated, I searched and found a way up. Right next to the ladder was a thick rope which went all the way to the top and, sensibly, was unoccupied. Without a second thought I looked at Ernie and said we should go up with that instead. He quickly agreed. I grabbed on and began walking up the wall and climbing the rope with my arms. The Koreans next to me seemed a little perplexed as they passed me heading down. The climb up was thrilling and I blazed up the wall confidently. Coming down however, via the rope ladder, was a much different story. This was the stiffest test to my nerves yet. I’m not sure why my mind fears going down so much more than up, but I really took my time here and made sure of my footing. I kept telling myself that with every step the fall would be slightly less injurious. 

 

On Sunday we took in the Cherry Blossom Festival. There’s not a whole lot to say about it. As promised the cherry blossoms were in full bloom and simply gorgeous. The trees lined the roads which were closed to car traffic and instead occupied by long lines of food, souvenir and carnival game vendors. We visited a Naval Museum which featured a Korean “Turtle Ship”, a replica of the type of ship which repulsed a Japanese invasion of Korea in the 16^th century. It was a very pleasant day but not a lot to write home about. Pictures will be up very soon!        

One Hundred and Eight Bows Pt.2

                I walked fifteen minutes down a side road and found the temple entrance. A tall, fair-haired German about my age showed me around; he’d been staying at the temple five months already and his calm demeanour was a testament to this. I next met my roommate, Chang Min, a Korean I presumed to be in his thirties. He was unmarried and taking a month off from his work as a civil engineer to live the austere temple life. “I make money and buy, make money buy…” he explained in shaky english. “I want to find who is I.” 

                I walked with Chang Min to dinner, a steep uphill climb that left me panting and legs throbbing. Following this we had my first Sunmodo training. This temple is a particularly special one for being the headquarters of the Sundmodo discipline – a Korean Buddhist martial arts tradition. Sunmodo “envelopes the dynamic movements of a martial art into the peaceful practices of meditation, yoga, and chi gong exercises.” I did not know it yet but it was to be as much a physical challenge as a mental one.

                After learning proper bowing techniques from a nice Polish girl, the forty or so of us in the dojo-like temple were led in ritual chants by one of the masters. Though I was provided with a “lyrics” sheet for the chants I found I was far too busy trying to ensure I bowed properly and at the right time to join in on the droning. Next we were led in stretching exercises. My mat was next to Ryan’s, an American who also joined that day, and the two of us proved woefully inflexible. There were some particularly interesting movements however including one where you sit, legs spread in a wide “V” whereupon you reach out to grab your ankles and roll backwards onto your neck, keeping your “V” shape and trying to touch your feet to the ground behind your head. You then roll back to the sitting position and carry on ten times or so.     

                Many of the martial arts movements are done very slowly and methodically. They require grace in the movements of your limbs and strength in your legs as they are performed in the horse stance (google it). I think I am in decent shape and still my legs would burn so bad during some movements that I was forced to stop several times to straighten my legs and shake out the fire. One movement involved swinging your arm, hand in knifehand position, on either side of your body (front and back) utilizing momentum to create fluidity. The next step was incorporating the other arm simultaneously. I watched our master perform this and it had the effect of an impenetrable whirlwind of knifehands seeming to defend every angle of him at all times. Few of us could properly perform this. This was probably my most embarrassing attempt at the martial art during my stay. My arms refused to mirror each other’s movements and instead wildly flailed like two demented windmills. I looked like I was eight-years old again using my one primitive defence tactic against my big sister. 

                The next morning Chang Min and I awoke at 330. We showered and headed out for the 430 chanting service. It was lightly raining just as the day before. After the chanting we did thirty minutes of sitting meditation followed by thirty minutes of walking meditation outdoors in the cold rain. This involved walking very slowly and keeping in a line about two metres apart from the person in front of you. We were advised to take this time to soak in and think about the nature around us, or otherwise simply focus on the pressure beneath our feet as we walked. I enjoy walking meditation and the consonance of sounds around me – morning birds chirping, rain falling, feet rhythmically rising and falling – was indeed plenty to occupy my thoughts, but our steep, downhill and slippery path necessitated a portion of my brain stay focused on simply not wiping out. 

                One final event worth mentioning was the performance of the 108 Bows. This involves standing in a circle and prostrating oneself the aforementioned number of times for the purpose of self-purification and to humble oneself. Each bow is for a different “promise” or “objective” which is read out in Korean. We were provided English translations which I kept at my feet. With every bow I would quickly read what it was for and contemplate it for the few seconds before the next. “I bow to wonder where I came from and where I am going,” “I bow to appreciate my parents for giving birth to me,” “I bow to ask for forgiveness from the people I have hurt,” “I bow to call attention to the good in others, but not the bad,” and so on. I had been nervous about the pain my body might go through with all the getting up and down, but I found I was so occupied by each bow’s significance that I hardly felt discomfort on even the final bow. It was a very moving experience and one of my favourites during my stay.

                One night’s stay was not long enough to really get your mind and body into the flow of temple life I realized. I can’t stay for months as some lodgers there do (not that I’d want to given the chance), but I do intend to go back and stay for two or three days for a more thorough experience.        

Sunmodo Temple Pics

Lunch before arriving at the temple.

Dogs, possibly someone else's lunch.

Temple entrance

The floors were heated but it was still a rough sleep. I had to rotate throughout the night as each part of my body became sore.

Roomate 장 민 (Chang Min)

Part of the winding uphill path that lodgers walk. The nature on both sides was gorgeous even for this dreary time of year.

Chanting/training temple. Cool blend of the old and new no?

Jake-son before a training session.

The masters were impressive to watch.

One Hundred and Eight Bows

                This is my first Korean blog entry and I’ve chosen to write now that I have finally done something interesting here.  This first weekend in March sees Koreans celebrate Independence Movement Day, which celebrates the first nationwide protests against Japanese rule in 1919. My fellow English teachers were all eagerly planning together where they would go for the weekend.  For myself I would go solo on a temple stay at a Buddhist monastery – a chance to escape the smog and noise of Uijeongbu (where I work and live) for the lush, tranquil mountain setting of the temple I would be attending.

                It was my first time leaving Uijeongbu and for it I chose a spot on the exact opposite corner of the Korean peninsula (the outskirts of Gyeonju). Getting there was half the fun. I first rode Korea’s sleek subway system into Seoul, then elbowed my way through throngs of Koreans to transfer to another subway line which brought me to the intra-city bus terminal (I would travel the long and cheap way). After a four hour bus ride I arrived in Gyeongju and, before continuing on to the temple, stopped for lunch at the first place I found. It was a traditional Korean restaurant; this meant removing my shoes, sitting on the floor and forgetting about English. The old lady in charge gestured emphatically at a picture on the menu – presumably she’d decided to order for me when she saw my eyes glaze over in an attempt to make sense of my choices. I agreed and what came was a boiled half-chicken in an onion broth soup, stuffed with rice, potato, a single turnip-looking vegetable which I at first honestly thought might be a possum penis, and a single kalamata olive, along with the usual sides of various pickled vegetables (kimchi). It was delicious and I ate everything, possum penis and all. I was next to a TV and as I ate it showed a billiards match which was played with only three balls on a table with no pockets. Not surprisingly the match was still going when I left.

                I hopped on the local bus which was to take me to the temple, somewhat unsure of which exact stop was mine. The old local man sitting next to me took an interest in my destination, but my pronunciation of the town was apparently unintelligible. I had the idea to try out what I’d learned of writing Hangeul (the Korean writing system) and spelled out the town as best I could on paper. This time he understood and began diligently recruiting those sitting around us and shouting instructions to the bus driver. At the next stop my new friend had to depart, but sure enough, a couple stops later, what seemed like the entire bus turned to me and let me know that this was my stop. Nice folks.

                More to come including pictures.

One Thousand Ninety-Five Curves

The second last stop on my trip, Chiang Mai ended up being one of the best. On the third day I decided to spend some time with elephants at the Save the Elephants conservatory, where elephants make the transition from their former jobs as loggers to their new more humane one - performing tricks with hoola-hoops for tourists. The ride to the conservatory was a hazardous one. As we drove further from the city and into the mountains and forest the roads became more treacherous. As we approached a steep hill with an unpaved path full of deep gouges, I unbuckled expecting to hike the rest of the way. Instead my guide kicked the truck into 4x4 and began the uphill ascent and I proceeded to get violently tossed around the cabin. You know those commercials you see when a truck is being driven over ridiculously harsh terrain to show how capable it is? You scoff because most trucks never leave the pavement right. Not in Southeast Asia.

I was less excited to ride an elephant as I had been to ride a camel. Mine was named Olla and she did whatever she wanted despite my commands. Elephants work primarily on verbal commands with reward (bananas) and punishment (getting whacked) as incentive. Olla cared for nothing but eating and would stop every 8 seconds or so to eat grass or demand a banana. Unlike their African cousins, Asian elephants have a pronounced back bone which makes staying atop them difficult and uncomfortable; I fell off once nearly into a river. We rode through beautiful forest, across rivers, up steep hills - elephants can handle anything. They're extremely playful as well and let you touch and mess around with them however you like. Our trek led us to a waterfall where we all bathed Olla. She proceeded to spray mud all over herself immediately after (keeps the bugs off). My guides ended up being really cool which was a relief because I was only tourist on the trip. Pics to come.

The next couple days I spent hanging out with a Londoner I met named Kate. A painter and a poet, Kate was interesting to me because of her unshakeable philosophy on life which embodied many ideals I personally aspire to (sometimes). Over discussion of relationships (intimate and non), love, fidelity, and social xenophobia, among other things, I discerned her raison d'etre to be the safeguarding of her independence. She would tolerate no shackles around her legs. In a relationship she expected absolute trust and had no tolerance for jealousy, which would be a shackle and restrict how she behaved. Kate had zero sympathy for such petty human qualities and would stroke no man's ego if it meant compromising her integrity and actions. It was a mature, lofty outlook for a twenty-two year old and I admired how she held to it. I wondered whether I could ever fully overcome the vices of jealousy and ego the way she seemed to.

On my final night in Chiang Mai I took in some Muay Thai boxing. I'll only say that the highlight was a bout where they brought six amateur fighters into the ring, blindfolded them, and let them wail on each other, every man for himself. It sounds stupid, and it was, but I dare anybody to not smile when the referee continually gets pummeled because the fighters have no idea who they're hitting.

Today I hit the road for Mae Hong Son, my last stop. There is one road leading here and it takes you through the mountains for six-hours - a neverending journey of bends and hairpin turns. The Thai girl with braces sitting next to me informed me that their are 1095 curves between Chiang Mai and Mae Hong Son. I came very close to throwing up at one point but the van made a stop just in time and my stomach recovered. Another girl was not as lucky. I may just fly to Bangkok...