Welcome to LAX

It's only taken me 5 months to realize that I landed at the wrong airport in August. I feel like I should have landed in L.A. given that I've found myself in a city full of vanity and cosmetic obsessions.The only thing that's missing is the blond hair and big boobs.

Korean women go everywhere and anywhere armed with three essential items. A pocket mirror, make-up and high heels. Everywhere I turn Korean women are decked out and dolled up. They turn up for a lazy Sunday coffee sporting the latest fashion trends and can be seen re-applying make-up while holding a latte. I've even  witnessed women hike mountains in stiletto's. I've never been in a culture so aesthetically obsessed.

There are days when I am envious. I wish I was able to leave the house having primed and pampered myself for hours before stepping one peep-toe pump out of the door. I just don't have the time or energy to primp that way before my day begins.

Don't get me wrong-- a week-end night out entails a lot of effort. The perfect blow dry; an extra swipe of blush and mascara. But some days, I just throw on my sneakers, pull my hair back into a  low pony tail and go. There are days when I only catch a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Korean's aesthetic ideals are an obsession. Almost every woman I've met here has had some form of cosmetic surgery. Plastic surgery is rampant here. They tell me it is because if  you have a "flaw" it should be fixed. They pat their faces and stretch their necks a hundred times a day to prevent wrinkles. Korean women talk about rhinoplasty, face-lifts and plastic surgeries like North American's talk about the weather.

Some days it's hard to live in this society. Korea is such an image conscientious society and you can't help but feel less than adequate in your old blue jeans and runners as you walk about town. I'm beginning to wonder if these women have it right!?  Korean women are considered the most beautiful of all the Asian countries.  

I'm told that here in Korea, women have a small window of opportunity to catch a husband. This window usually lasts from 22-27 years. After 27, they are considered old and chances of securing a mate rapidly declines. My guess is that for the many still single Korean women in their twenties the only way to get a men to perk up is to be as atheistically pleasing as can be.

For now, I'm thankful that I have been blessed with good genes and that my age is masked most of the time. I'm also especially grateful that where I'm from- single women in their thirties aren't clawing their way through in search of the last few good men standing.   Although the pool may have dwindled  a little- I'm content as can be just the way I am, without any cosmetic alterations. 

Moving Day

One of the greatest things about being thirty is that I've learned through the years how to be assertive, ask for what I want and tell it like it is. There really is no harm asking- and I've learned that sometimes people actually say "yes". Of course, my way is to do it all with style, class and of course a smile. It's proved to be quite advantageous since being in Korea.

I recall when I first arrived, I made a bit of a fuss over the bed I was given. It was uneven, lumpy and lopsided actually! After a few days of gripes, I was told they were going to provide me with a new bed. Here in Korea, once a decision is made, they act swiftly and smoothly. Within an hour of them deciding that a new bed would be needed- it was purchased, delivered and set up within three hours. People move fast. They say Korea is dynamic- but I never expected to be blown away by how quickly some decisions are made. No hassles, no complaints, just done.

Having been borderline hypothermic for the past two weeks in my apartment, I've been expressing my utter dissatisfaction with the situation. A little griping goes a long way it seems! This morning I was informed that the administration has finally agreed to look at some new apartments for me (this of course was refused when I first saw the apartment 5 months ago). Here's how quick everything happens:

11:00 am Off to see some of the studio styles available near my school.
11:05 am Viewing of studio apartment #1
11:15 am Viewing of studio apartment #2
11:30 am Administration negotiates the lease
11:45 am settled on an apartment
12:00 pm confirmation that the apartment I liked would be mine
12:02 pm advised that I would be moving in 3 days
12:05 pm drive back to the apartment with 5 male teachers
12:10 pm male teachers deliberate, argue and sketch furniture placement
12:25 pm I'm given the apartment key and a few boxes

This timetable was not exaggerated in the least. That's really how quickly everything happens around here. I guess there really isn't any harm in asking and owe it all to the advantage of having lived and learned the right way to get what you really want!

Scrub, Scrub, Scrub

Having been chilled to the bone for a few days- I took matters into my hands and decided it was a good day to indulge in a public bath, otherwise known in Korea as the Jjimjilbang (gender segregated public bath house) If you've read some of my earlier posts- you'll know that making this decision doesn't come lightly!

The place was packed, as I suspected that others were of like mind, beating their weather woes with a good spa treatment. I took my time, enjoying the heat and relaxation. I enjoyed the steam room, jumping from the ice cold pool to hot whirlpool. I even indulged in the high jet massage pool. I felt relaxed and warm. A perfect week day afternoon.

Having spent about an hour savoring the the different pools- my eye caught sight of a woman heading in to a tiny room off to the side of the spa. She was escorted onto one of two massage tables lying side by side. I had heard of these scrub rooms, where Korean women frequently go to have an extreme exfoliation treatment. Women who work at the public baths, called ajuma's (Korean for Aunt) scrub you down.

I sat nervously in the whirlpool, desperately wanting to experience this scrub down for myself. After an internal fight with myself - I decided what the hell. Now or never. As I strutted my stuff across the pools, I glanced over at the lady getting scrubbed down. She appeared calm and relaxed as the ajuma scrubbed away. I stood there for a moment, and caught the ajuma's attention. She smiled as I pointed to my self and made circling scrubbing motions. She nodded her head and flashed her palm. The woman on the table briefly opened her eyes and in her broken English told me to wait a few minutes. As I scoped the scene, I had no idea of the cost, the duration or what to expect- the sign above was of course only in Korean.

My ajuma finally appeared, a petite curious looking woman wearing her bra and panties. She smiled and pointed towards the table. She asked me something in Korean and repeated again. I flicked my eyes towards the woman on the other table, hoping she could possibly translate. She pointed to her face and questioned if I wanted a facial treatment. With nothing to lose I nodded eagerly in agreement.

In silence, she tapped gently on my legs or arms to position me properly. As I lay face up on the table, she poured two pails of hot water over my body. A seaweed and fresh cucumber face mask was slathered on and away she went. She scrubbed every inch of my body. The process is repeated three times, with different products. The scrubbing was quite enjoyable actually. At one point during the treatment I heard her say something to the other ajuma. Slightly paranoid I wondered if she was talking about me? I know that I am the only Caucasian to have entered this public bath. I quickly let it go, and put my attention back into enjoying the treatment.

After applying a thick layer of lotion and exfoliater I was asked to sit up so she could scrub parts not previously covered. As I gently opened my eyes I observed that I was surrounded by piles of dead skin. I must have gasped and winced a little because my ajuma began to giggle. She nodded her head agreeing that the filth around me was in fact mine. I could not believe the amount of skin. I must have shed a least a few pounds. I knew I scrubbed myself- but this was unreal. No wonder Korean women go every second week to get a good scrub down. My skin never felt softer.

As the last rinse was completed, she slicked on a thick layer of body butter and told me to go rinse off. I was done! I felt so relaxed and clean. The whole treatment lasted an hour and fifteen minutes. As I showered up, patted dry and dressed I worried about where I paid for this and what the cost would be.

As I stepped out to collect my shoes- the lady scribbled the amount I owed on a piece of paper for me. The total cost was 15,000 won. That's roughly $14.00. I happily paid for the service, and as I left the building filled with glee- I knew this would become my new addiction.

Antarctica

Nothing screams home like a good snow storm. Feeling like we were in the Canadian Artic last week, Daegu had a hefty snowfall. The kind of snow that streams from the sky. Thick and fluffy. Just perfect for building snowmen and catching snowflakes.

Winter's first snow fall is just one of those things I love. My heart skips, and girlish giddyness washes over me. As I strolled home through the winterwonderland taking in the grey skies, the whipping cold and harsh winds I realized how these days are just the perfect setting to cuddle up inside, light a fire, brew a good cup of cocoa and snuggle up with your man.

As I opened the door to my apartment, I flicked on the lights and undressed from my coat, hat and mitts. I peeked into my apartment but there was no fireplace, no cocoa, and no man.

I settled for a a billion blankets, a cup of Earl Grey tea and sole snuggling. I stretched out on my bed to watch my latest download and pulled and tucked most of the blankets I owned around me. After a few solid minutes, I felt a cold draft in the air. De-cuddling myself to check out the cause of the temperature shift, I noticed that I could see my breath in the air. I knew the weather had turned brisk, but my apartment was nearly as cold inside as it was outside. I double checked that the boiler system was on. The green beam flashed indicating it was on and working. These boiler systems are equipped with temperature gauges, and heat from the floor. I peered at the temperature. A bomby 14 degrees! I scaled the gauge higher in hopes that the number would change.

Two hours later the temperature hadn't budged. I was in Antarctica. I bundled up with my hat, mitts and layered on a heavy sweater. I put on long johns and ski socks and nestled in for my night's sleep.

It's been 8 days. I've now resorted to camping out on the floor of my apartment. Let's not even mention the whole shower ordeal. Some days I feel like I'm practicing for the Polar Bear club.

Two days ago I received my gas/heat bill. It was ridiculous! They say it's because it's a really old building. The temperature in my apartment has not budged from 14 degrees in over 8 days, no matter how high I scale the knob.

As I eagerly await for the Spring temperatures of February to arrive swiftly, I have succumbed to the camp out on my living room floor. I still wear my hat and mitts to bed and dream nightly of toasting by the roaring fire, with a cup of hot cocoa snuggled up with a man.

Ringing in a new decade

It's hard to believe that another year has flown by. I've never been one to go all extravaganza for New Year's- typically I allow my gung- ho friends to pick a place to party and follow suit. Everyone scrambles to find something to do, and usually we end up forking out way too much money for "just another night out". But, as they say... it is New Years!

A new year. A year of possibilities, changes and unknowns. At the stroke of midnight, it all begins. It's always been difficult to reflect on the year passed while Auld Lang Syne is humming in the background, the crowd is counting down in unison and glasses are clinking together. At that pivotal moment expressions of good luck, happiness and health are murmured across the bar- usually by this point we can barely stand- but all the same we're celebrating the new year to come.

It's the following day, when morning breaks and the fog from the previous evenings cocktails and shots lifts that we take the time to reflect and curse ourselves for the debauchery from the previous night's party. As we piece together the night, we are faced with the reality that it is a New Year. I've always gone back to ponder the good and the bad and cross my fingers for an even better upcoming year.

I have to admit, that as I scan the last 12 months- I wouldn't change a thing and am amazed by everything that I have accomplished. Of course, there have been some trials and tribulations along the way- but as much as this is cliche- it is truly these times that pave the way for more strength and adventure.

As I raise my glass to no one in particular- I'm wishing that everyone finds the passion to embark on their own adventures and find their true purpose in life. Here is to loving, living and hoping that all of our wildest dreams come true in the new decade.

All alone for Christmas

For the first time in my life, it really doesn't feel like Christmas time at all. Downtown Daegu is lined with a few Christmas trees full of twinkling lights and sparkling decorations- carols can be heard as you wander past the rows of shops- bakeries present beautiful sweet treats in the windows... but the Christmas cheer is far from home.

This year, as I celebrate Christmas a little differently in the land of the morning calm- I realize that even though I may be "alone" for Christmas, miles away from family and friends- I am not completely alone. For those of us who find ourselves in Korea for Christmas we have gathered around and made new Christmas memories. There may not be any chestnuts roasting on an open fire, snowflakes streaming from the skies or gifts under the tree- but we do have new friendships to toast to.

For the past 30 years Christmas has been spent dashing from one house to the other, lugging gifts, and indulging in one meal after another. This year I have avoided Christmas crowds; gift lists; trimming the tree; wrapping; packaging; cooking; baking; cleaning; driving; de-decorating the tree, and weeks vacuuming up the remnants of the pine scented tree (the most dreaded of holiday activities) that have made up my Christmas ritual year after year.

Although I am rejoicing in the fact that this year I have managed to escape the Christmas craziness- there is something to be said for celebrating the real spirit of Christmas.

Nothing feels more like Christmas than to have friends and family dropping in, the joy and laughter that comes with gathering around the tree; giving and receiving presents and toasting to the holidays. Despite all my delight to the no stress approach this year, I think I would trade it all in just to be home for the holidays.

Templestay

In the past two years I've sat through intensive Vipassana Meditation courses. Vipasassana mediation is one of Asia's most ancient techniques of meditation attributed to Gautama Buddha. Having experienced some powerful insight, liberation and detachment during these sittings, I've always been drawn to experiencing more.

If you're going to teach English in Korea, I highly recommend participating in a TempleStay. In Korea, the temple gates open to those who wish to be introduced and experience Buddhism. The Korean Buddhism tradition has existed for over 1700 years and participating in Templestay is one of the many rich cultural experiences one can do in Korea.

For 24 hours we experienced the unique lifestyle of Buddhist practitioners. We settled on Haeinsa Temple which offers the full cultural experience. High in the mountains, surrounded by thousand year old trees, ponds, and pathways this temple offered more than just natural beauty.

We were surrounded my monks (Sunim) in traditional robes, the many temples nestled in the forests and the sounds of wind chimes clamouring in the wind. Our host was a Korean Monk who spoke perfect English, and his story touched us all. He , like many monks lived a so-called normal life just as you and I. A life of attachment, material possessions and suffering. I am so grateful for his words, wisdom and insight.

The stay begins at with an opening ceremony at 16:00- we were given traditional clothing and shown to our rooms. The men and women are of course separated. A simple dwelling: you are given blankets and pillows and sleep on the comfort of the heated floor.

We were taught about temple banner, how to bow and basic Buddhist philosophies. At 17:00 We were treated to Balwoo-gongyang (a traditional Buddhist meal) and then to the main temple for Ye-bool at the 18:00. The Ye-boo is the Buddhist ritual that pays respect to Buddha.

To participate and observe hundreds of monks in the temple, chanting and bowing was one of the most amazing and beautiful things that I have ever seen. The energy that filled the room was indescribable. We bowed with them, and quietly observed the ritual.

At 19:00 we engaged in a Da-do- a Tea Ceremony with our Sunim; where he told us of his University days, including tragic suffering that finally led him to his path of becoming a Buddhist monk. The Buddhists claim that while drinking tea we are enjoying life. The whole ceremony was quite the process from the brewing to the drinking.

We talked about life, it's meaning, Buddhist precepts, faith and the Matrix. We talked for hours, quietly reflecting and tasting our tea. Lights out was at 21:00, as Korean Buddhists are the one of the few who rise the earliest.

The Sunim's rise at 02:30. In the darkness of the night, with the moon shining high in the sky, the monks perform a traditional drum ceremony. The pre-dawn ceremony is ignited by the drums that can be heard at 03:10, waking the animals, mammals, and lastly the humans. We joined again in the main hall at 04:00. The chants awakening every human form in the room. As the monks chant in unison, you can feel the energy flowing through your entire body.

The thought of the sacredness and the awakening of our bodies and minds at 03:00 was truly eye-opening. Normally, we would all still be out at the bars traipsing around trying to make our way home.

We were shown how to bow and at 05:00 we participated in the chanting of a thousand hands led by a senior monk and performed 108 bows. We sat through a 45 minute Zen Meditation sitting with perfect posture and breathing. We were again served tea, and had delighted to a modest breakfast.

In the morning calm, we we shown how to make our own Prayer beads. 108 strung along in complete silence. The monks say the significance of making the beads is not in the bead itself- but that the beads are meaningful because they contain within them our prayers and hopes.

We walked the grounds in full meditation and the stay wrapped up shortly after lunch. For nearly 24 hours, you are connected to your body and mind- and I was reminded of how much I truly need to remove themselves from the toxicity and negative influences in the world.

As a result of enduring some major pains some years ago, I committed to a journey to seek myself. To seek my true self. My purpose, my life and my passions. I can tell you that over the past two years my path to self-discovery has taken me to places within myself I'd never dreamed of going. I don't know that I will be able to seek enlightenment- but I do know that I am closer to fulfilling my true purpose and am so grateful to those who have shown up on my path.

May all beings be happy.