Free at Last!

22 November 2012

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all!  So the show is over.  My last performance was Tuesday night, and the residual feelings are bittersweet.  On one hand, I am sad that I will not be seeing my new friends very often after having spent the majority of the last month with them.  Pretty much every single day, in fact.  On the other hand, I am thrilled to finally have my life back!  I may or may not have teared up a bit with joy when I walked home with the Hubby after school yesterday.  Not to the train station, not to the bus stop, not to the taxi stand, but HOME!  To my warm and cozy apartment.  I celebrated by promptly falling asleep on the couch, waking up long enough only to eat the delicious bon juk (rice porridge) that my sweet man had gone to pick up from a nearby restaurant while I was napping and then to watch an episode or two of The Walking Dead.  Nothing like flesh eating zombies to help you relax after weeks of a grueling rehearsal schedule.

My participation in the play itself was definitely an experience I would not trade for anything. I met a lot of really fantastic people and undertook a role I have always wanted to play, all while dealing with the incredibly challenging language barrier and inevitable cultural differences.  I will say that I was thoroughly impressed with the dedicated work ethic of the company members, many of whom spent two long days at the theatre building the set from scratch and hanging lights themselves.  It was truly a collaborative effort.

This is what happens when I only understand about 1/16th of what is being said in the rehearsal room at any given time, and you leave me alone with a Falstaff fat suit, and a random witch's hat.

Lord Stanley, Murderer 2, Clarence, Archbishop

Margaret, Clarence, Elizabeth, Anne (foreign cast)

My self-appointed Korean "dad."  He has claimed me as his daughter, and thanks to him, I know how to say "Sit down," "father," and "hurry up" in Korean.

Margaret (Korean cast) and Me

Elizabeth, Margaret, Richard III, Anne

All the Boys and Me; it was a HUGE cast

Hopefully now, I will be able to get back to traveling again and experiencing more of Korea than the inside of the bullet train.  I must say, though, that I have nabbing an unreserved seat on said train down to a science.  The commuter ticket I used all throughout the last month did not, in fact, offer me an assigned seat on each train.  There are, however, precisely two auditorium-style fold-up seats in between each car in the area where passengers ride who have "standing room only" tickets.  If you go up to the platform about ten to fifteen minutes before the train arrives and stand at the number on the platform that matches a corresponding car on the train, when the train stops, you will be positioned right in front of the train door.  When the door opens and the exiting passengers leave the train, you will be the first one to enter through the aforementioned door, thus allowing you to claim one of the unreserved seats by placing your bag on the seat and stepping aside to allow other passengers to enter the train.  Chances are there will be at least one seat available, and if you're lucky, the other seat will not be occupied by a vociferous businessman, slightly swaying from imbibing a bit too much soju, who insists on shouting at some poor soul on the other end of his cell phone conversation, all while staring at you for an immeasurable amount of time while you try to inconspicuously read a book.  Again...if you're lucky.  And if you're really lucky, this garrulous individual or someone equally engaging will be there, giving you fodder for memories to relish for years on end.

I Speak Shakespeare in Korea(n?)! Who knew?!

1 November 2012

Happy Celtic New Year to one and all!  Sorry.  I've been teaching my students here about the history of Halloween, and I've been a little inundated with all things Samhain/All Hallow's Eve/modern-day Halloween.  That being said, did you know that Halloween started as the Celtic celebration of Samhain,  which was the last night of the Celtic year, and during which the spirits of the dead could come back to earth? Yeah.  My students weren't really that impressed either.  They don't really celebrate Halloween here in Korea.

Since the events of my last entry, which was in fact, a record of happenings a few weeks before I actually wrote it, I have been cast in a play.  I will be playing Lady Anne in Shakespeare's Richard III for the Eurasia Shakespeare Theatre Company at the Dalorum Theatre, part of the National Theatre in Seoul.  Not long after I came to Korea, I discovered, through conversation with another native English teacher here, that there are in fact a few expat theatre companies that perform shows in English.  When we decided to leave NYC for the Far East, I was not a little concerned about my acting career going on hiatus.  Well, to put it more accurately, I was totally freaked out at the prospect of not being able to act in anything for more than a year.  Granted, in the U.S. that sometimes happens in spite of being around plenty of opportunities.  One must still get the gig, as it were.  But to have absolutely no chance to perform was frightening.  So once I found out about the acting possibilities for English speakers here, I began Googling for all I was worth.  I located a few companies and their contact information and promptly sent out my desperate creative feelers into the great unknown that is expat theatre in the ROK (Republic of Korea).  I discovered the dates of a few auditions, but the first company to contact me directly was the Eurasia Shakespeare Theatre Company.  I scheduled an audition appointment in Seoul for a Saturday in mid-October, the same day that the U.S. Embassy was planning a voting event in which American citizens could easily cast their absentee ballots in the upcoming presidential election.  The timing couldn't be more perfect.

The Hubby and I arrived at the audition location early, as I was anxious about getting lost on the unmarked streets of Seoul.  A vast majority of the streets in Korea do not seem to have names posted on them.  Navigation can be dubious at best, even with a map.  It was clear that I was the first auditionee to appear, so I set to work, warming up and preparing myself as best I could.  It had been a few months since I had attended an audition at all, but I was confident it would be like riding a bike.  You just have to get right back up on that horse.  'Tis a far, far better thing.  And all that.  <insert your favorite aphorism here>.  I had realized the night before that I didn't even have a headshot to carry with me.  When I left the U.S., I didn't even think to pack any as I was sure they would prove to only take up much needed underwear space.  In spite of this insufficiency, which I hoped the director would not hold against me, given the circumstances, I tried to gather my courage, unsure of what to expect, and stepped through the theatre doors and into the dark rehearsal space when my name (or what kind of resembled the sound of my actual name; Ls and Rs are hard for Koreans to pronounce) was called.  The audition itself was similar to dozens of others I had undergone in America, right down to the apparent ambivalence of the director watching me.  I did a prepared monologue followed by a cold reading of one of Lady Macbeth's speeches, which the stage manager had handed me a few minutes before I was to go into the room.  I only took a moment to curse the fact that my well-worn Shakespeare lexicons were safely tucked away in a climate-controlled storage facility in Queens.  Smart phones, by the way, are excellent when it comes to deciphering Shakespeare in a pinch.

Afterwards, I wasn't really sure what to make of the experience.  I had done the best I could, staying in the present, using the language, trying to get something from my imaginary acting partner (Monologues are really stupid in my opinion.  When do you actually have to talk to someone that isn't there?...But I digress...).  After all was said and done, I collected the Hubby from the corner of the theatre's cafe where he was absorbed in another Cormack McCarthy novel, and we headed out to do our civic duty.  After voting, the rest of the day was spent in Seoul's shopping district where I tried my best to focus, albeit not entirely successfully, on all the distractions that an H&M, a Forever 21, and a Uniqlo in close proximity to each other could provide.  A couple of days later, almost certain that my little venture had been ill-fated, I flipped open my laptop to browse through the spam that filled my email.  There, I clicked on what looked like it might be a legitimate message as opposed to another attempt to win me over to the virtues of male enhancement.  I scanned the missive, my eyes alighting on the words "invite" and "offer" and "role of Lady Anne."  This did indeed appear to be an offer to play Lady Anne in the company's upcoming production of Richard III.  I squealed with delight as I flew into the next room to share my news with the Hubby.  I was to begin rehearsals in two days time, coming into rehearsal late, as they had already been meeting for a month.  My heart fluttered anxiously at the thought of having only one month to prepare to play one of my Shakespearean dream roles.  No matter!  I was in!

Two days later, I walked into the rehearsal room (I always have to come late to rehearsal since I live and work so far away from Seoul in comparison to the rest of the cast; 40 minutes one way on the bullet train (KTX) added to three subway stops with one transfer and a 5 minute walk as well as the 30 minutes it actually takes to get to the original train in the first place).  As I walked in, I could hear them already at work.  "But that couldn't be right," I thought to myself.  It sounded as if they were speaking not in English, but in Korean.  As I tried to inconspicuously make my way to an available chair (I say "tried" since an inconspicuous red-haired, Caucasian foreigner in Korea is in itself an oxymoron), it dawned on me that, yes, the cast was in fact speaking a Korean translation of Shakespeare's English play.  I swallowed and made eye contact with the only other foreigner in the room I could find.  She smiled back at me briefly and then went back to scanning her script, following along.  I sat there, trying to grasp what was going on.  The director did know I didn't speak Korean, right?  I mean, I hadn't auditioned in Korean.  I spoke English the whole time.  And he never asked me if I spoke Korean.  I told him I'd only been here a little over a month, didn't I?  Unsure what to think, I waited until the other actors paused in their reading.  The director acknowledged me and asked me to introduce myself, which I did. In English.  While everyone around me stared at me blankly, obviously not understanding a word I was saying.

After that, we took a small break, during which I sought out the other foreigners (there were in fact two American women in addition to me) and asked what exactly was happening.  Not to worry, they assured me. I would only be speaking in English.  What was different, though, was that the Korean actors would all be speaking in Korean.  Within the same scenes.  So, to put it as clearly as possible, in my most significant scene, I would be an English-speaking Anne who would be answered and addressed by a Korean-speaking Richard.  While my mind tried to wrap itself around the implications of this prospect, I could feel my heart begin to race, and I tried to remind myself of an adage I had adopted a couple of years ago.  "If it scares you, you should probably just do it."  And let me tell you, reader, it scared the be-geevers out of me!  To not know what the other person was saying!  That was crazy!  But at the same time, how challenging would that be!  To have to listen so closely to the other person's body, voice, eyes.  And not only that, but to have to communicate  what I was saying so effectively with my entire being that there could be not doubt as to what messages I was trying to convey.  I had not heard of anyone doing anything like this before, and the concept intrigued me.  I wanted to run far away from this weird thing they were asking me to be a part of, but another part of me that needed desperately to do what I love to do best formed a secure alliance with yet a different part of me, the part that thrives on seemingly impossible endeavors, and I knew I would just have to suck it up and try, come what may.  In the immortal words of one of my most beloved professors, "If you're gonna suck, suck big."  And let me tell you, friends, this whole thing might very well suck, but if it does, I'm gonna be the one left standing with the most air in her lungs.  That's my plan anyway.  We'll see what happens.

I think someone is about to be beheaded here.

Crazy Lady Anne's Ghost surfing backstage?  I don't know what shenanigans were happening. Notice no one is wearing shoes.  Difficult to rehearse Shakespeare in socks, but that's the Korean culture.  No shoes inside.  In this rehearsal space at least.

Studying the script with Queen Elizabeth, Clarence, and a Murderer

Stage combat rehearsal

The younger members of the cast get instruction on how to properly kneel by Lord Stanley / King Henry VI's Ghost

A Smack on the Behind and a Boy's First Kiss

23 October 2012

Oh my goodness!!  It sure has been a long time since I wrote anything on here.  Sorry about that, say I to the people who asked me to compose this blog.  To others, I say, you're welcome.  Sooo....I don't even know where to begin.  So much has happened the last few weeks.  I'm afraid this may not be the most clever, witty entry in the world, but hopefully it will kickstart my blog-writing endeavor once again.  Consider yourselves warned.

I guess I'll start where I left off.  About three weeks ago, the Hubby and I went into the larger city near ours to see a movie at Yawoori, the cinema there.  They actually show English movies, albeit with Korean subtitles, but it is really nice to be able to pretend I am at home at the movie theatre for a couple of hours.  We saw Taken 2, which was OK, but not nearly as awesome as the first one.  No sarcasm intended here.  I really did like the first Taken movie.  After we left the theatre to take the bus, we realized that we had forgotten that there was a big International Dance Festival in the city that weekend.  We stepped out of the shopping mall that houses the movie theatre and were greeted by hoards of people lining the main thoroughfare, waiting for the parade to pass by (literally, in this case).  We had not intended to watch said parade, but realized quickly that we would most likely see much of it as we trudged down the street, trying to locate the alternative bus route that would get us back to our apartment in the neighboring town since the normal route was blocked off due to the festivities.  As we walked, we saw dance troupes from all over the world, and when I say all over the world, I mean the world that rarely registers on the American radar: little known eastern European countries that gained independence with the fall of the Soviet Union in addition to small nations near India, Malaysia, and Thailand.  Upon realizing that I didn't even recognize that 75% of these countries existed, I was a bit ashamed of my lack of geographical awareness.  Each troupe performed dances native to their homeland, and some even threw in a nod to the Gangnam Style phenomenon that seems to be sweeping the globe at the moment, much to the delight of their Korean audience, who proceeded to dance with them on the street.  After we finally reached the bus stop at the end of the parade route, I went into a Daiso (the equivalent of the Dollar Store in the States) to browse while we waited for the bus to (hopefully) show up (eventually. we hoped.).

When I came out of the store I found the Hubby quietly chuckling to himself.  When I asked him what he found so amusing (I was getting slightly cranky waiting for this supposed "bus"), he said that while I was in the store, this older Korean gentleman came up to him and asked him where he was from.  Well, it was more like, "You where from? You Russian?" (there is a weird obsession here with people being Russian), to which the Hubby replied that he was from America and pointed to the baseball cap the old man was wearing, which had an American flag (or something referencing America) on it.  The old man smiled, a bit confused because, the Hubby surmised, he didn't realize and/or remember what was on his cap.  Then the old man laughed, giving the thumbs up sign, and said that he really liked America.  America was good.  The old man, like most Korean men, was fairly short and looked up and down my husband's tall, slim figure and pointed.  "Tall!" he said, with an appraising nod.  The Hubby smiled and nodded (he gets this a lot).  This old, smiling Korean man then gave my sweet, unsuspecting husband a couple of firm smacks on the behind and walked a way, chuckling to himself all the while.  The Hubby, in shock, watched him go sit on a nearby bench to wait for the bus, take out a pocket knife and an apple, and proceed to carefully rotate the fruit under the knife, deftly stripping away its waxy outer layer in one long peel.  He then cut the apple into wedges with care and motioned for the Hubby to move closer so as to share his apple with his new American friend.  The Hubby did so, and they waited together, eating a shared apple in silent camaraderie until the old man's bus (not our bus *sigh*) finally appeared and he collected his things to go.  All this happened, unfortunately, while I was browsing through aisles of inexpensive knick-knacks.  Thus, I must hope I do the story justice, only telling it secondhand.

The next day, the kids in the Hubby's class were doing their midterm interviews with him.  They had been required to choose three things from a list to do while they were at home over the weekend, which they would then discuss in their interviews.  One kid chose to eat a new food he had never tried before and describe the experience.  He told the Hubby that his family just gave him the food to eat, not telling him what it was.  He thought the texture was strange, but it tasted OK.  Eventually, and to his horror apparently, his family told him he had been eating cow tongue.  The poor kid grimaced at this point in the interview and complained, "Ugh, teacher.  Was my first kiss."

Hopefully I will get better about writing on here.  Lord knows there's definitely enough material.  I should probably treat it like a regimen or something.  Unfortunately, I've never been one to stick with journals.  More to come.  Stay tuned.

Rock Out With Your Chew Socks Out!

4 October 2012

So I am going to attempt to write an interesting yet concise entry about our trip to Seoul for Chuseok.  Chuseok is one of the most important holidays here and is kind of like Korea's Thanksgiving in as much as it celebrates the harvest, but also during this holiday they pay their respects to their ancestors.  A lot of times the whole family will pack up and head off to the cemetery to lay out flowers, gifts, and general tokens of affection during Chuseok. They also give gifts to each other.

Our gift of two ginormous boxes of apples from the parents of our school.

For foreigners during Chuseok, it is a great time to take advantage of a five day weekend and take a trip.

FRIDAY NIGHT

We decided to go to Seoul with a big group of friends we met at orientation our first week here.

The Seoul Crew!

I think the final headcount ended up being around 15 or so. The Hubby and I had already booked our train tickets on the KTX (bullet train) a couple weeks before, so we were shocked when we arrived at the train station to pick up our tickets only to find that they had been cancelled!  After a lot of discussion with the people at the ticketing booth, we discovered that we had mistakenly booked tickets for 7:30 in the morning instead of 7:30 at night.  Korea uses military time, so when we clicked on 7:30 as a time for departure, we should have been looking for 19:30 instead. <sigh>  Luckily, we were able to get what were probably the last two seats on the 7:30, excuse me, 19:30 Seoul bound train.  I think they were the last seats because when we got on, some people were having to stand.  Thirty minutes after we boarded, we arrived at Seoul station, ready to start our long holiday weekend!

We took the subway to our hotel, found a few people from our group, and went to dinner.  After hanging out for the rest of the night into the wee hours of the next morning, we all headed to bed and agreed to meet the next morning to decide what the game plan was going to be for our first full day in Seoul.

SATURDAY

A groggy, yet excited crew met up at the coffee shop on the corner the next morning, and we decided to go to Insadong, a well known shopping area full of all kinds cultural and souvenir-like goods.  From there, we went to Gyeongbokgung Palace, known for housing the royal family of the Joseon Dynasty.  Apparently, the original palace complex was destroyed during one of the many Japanese occupations of Korea, but the country has been slowly restoring the buildings.

Entrance to Gyeongbokgung Palace

The Hubby in front of the palace

Standing with one of the guardsmen.  He never moved.  They must be really good sports.

Party pavilion at the palace

Gardens.  The queen had her own garden, which was really the only place she could go outside since she was forbidden to go anywhere in view of other people.  Imagine being under house arrest for the rest of your life.

Throne Room

Beautiful mountains behind the palace

After visiting the palace, a few of us moseyed on through the streets of Insadong, checking out all the cool artwork and pottery.  I love shopping, but it is so hard for me to actually commit to purchasing something.  I don't suffer from buyer's remorse as much as I suffer from buyer's paralysis.  Just can't decide if I want to spend the money.

After Insadong, we went to Itaewon to meet up with some of the others from our group who had gone on ahead.  Itaewon is the area in Seoul often referred to as Little America.  It is where all the foreigners go to hang out and is full of all kinds of little western comforts that remind waygooks (foreigners) of home.  We reunited with most of our group and ate at a Mexican restaurant called Amigos for dinner.  It wasn't bad, but nothing beats Tex Mex from the source.

SUNDAY - Chuseok Day!

After a western style brunch in Itaewon, complete with eggs benedict and homefries (yum!), we decided to hike up to the Seoul Tower to see a complete view of Seoul.  It was much steeper than I expected, and I regretted not wearing tennis shoes, but after a long trek up the mountain, we made it, albeit rather drenched in sweat, to the top.

So many steps

Come on!  You can do it!

The view on the way up the mountain was really beautiful, as most of the landscape in Korea is.

Once we arrived at the base of the tower, we bought tickets to travel up to the observation deck.  While we waited, we had to stop and introduce our British friends to the Cold Stone Creamery ice cream that was available there.  At the top of the tower, we were able to see a 360 degree view of Seoul, which is a huge, sprawling city - so much bigger than New York and even more overflowing with people. 

No wonder it takes so long to get places on the subway.  Manhattan is so compact that you can get pretty much anywhere within twenty to thirty minutes.  At least before midnight anyway.  One more note about the subway: there is a little song or ditty for everything here.  In the subway, a trumpet reveille announces the arrival of the train.  The "bell" at our school is the unofficial, quite catchy, anthem for the Chungnam province.  Even my washing machine plays a little song to let me know it has finished its cycle.  Koreans love their jingles.

While on the subway to our next destination after the Seoul Tower, I was standing there when suddenly I felt someone pulling on the sleeve of my sweater.  When I looked down, I saw a little old Korean lady trying to get my attention to tell me to sit down in the empty seat next to her.  My feet were incredibly sore after the long hike up and down the mountain to get to the tower, so I gratefully acquiesced and sat down next to her.  Then she proceeded to try to get one of the other girls in our group to sit in an empty seat across from us.  When our friend smiled and politely declined, the older lady began to firmly and assertively nudge our friend's arm, gesturing for her to sit down.  Again our friend tried to tell the lady that she was just fine standing up, after which, my new little Korean grandmother began to nudge my arm and whisper conspiratorially behind her hand (in Korean, mind you), trying to get me to convince my American friend to sit down.  Then she began to have a full on conversation with me in Korean.  I say "conversation" in spite of the fact that it was completely one-sided and I had no earthly idea what she was saying.  I think part of it included an explanation about how she needed to sit on the train because of a bad back.  This I derived from gestures and facial expressions.  An even larger part of it included more insistent nudging of my arm in an attempt to get my American friend to sit down.  She was really worried about that apparently.  I just smiled and nodded as she carried on, completely at a loss as to what she was saying, but I must have looked like I understood, 'cause she just kept on talkin'.

There we are.  That's my I'm-trying-to-be-polite-and-not-outright-laugh-at-this-situation face.

When we arrived at our stop, I bowed and said goodbye, smiling to myself at the whole encounter.

That evening, we went on a boat ride of the Han River.  It was a "magic cruise" in that it had a magic show that lasted about 30 minutes.  It was pretty cool, but the best part was just being on the water.

After our boat cruise, we went back to the area around our hotel where we decided to go to a noraebang (a private karaoke room rented by the hour) where we had a blast reliving the 80s and 90s with Mr. Big, Ace of Base, and some Oasis thrown in for good measure.  Those were pretty much the only decades represented in the English song selection.

MONDAY

Monday morning, we headed out to try to catch what we could of the Hi Seoul Festival, one of the most prominent festivals Seoul has to offer.  Unfortunately, when we got to Seoul Plaza, we realized that the opening ceremony wasn't until that evening.  We had about four hours to kill, which really isn't much time to get around Seoul, have time to do anything, and then get back in time for the festival events.  So we walked around a different part of Insadong.  It was soooo crowded!  Everyone and their adjumma (grandma) was out and about.  After a long afternoon of wandering around on our own, we all met back up to claim a spot on the lawn to watch the show.  The opening ceremony began with a kind of sporadic parade.  I say sporadic because it didn't just keep flowing like parades in the States do.  Instead, one group would pass by, then another, then another.  Between acts in the parade, everyone just kind of hung out on the street.

This puppet contraption reminded me so much of my time in Lyon, France at a theatre workshop watching and doing some pretty weird theatre.

Fairy bride in a Korean fairy tale

Deer in Korean fairy tale

White Tiger; one of Korea's guardians

Phoenix (that looks an awful lot like a chicken); another guardian

Dragon; another guardian

After the parade, we went back to the plaza to watch the opening program.

These guys formed a human mobile dangling from a crane above the crowd. They were strapped in a harness and were drumming the whole time.  So awesome.  Above them was a trapeze artist whose face was painted like the Joker.  Kind of random, but soooooo Korea.  (Although I think this particular troupe was from Chicago strangely enough.)

Lots of fireworks. I mean A LOT!

After the program, a lady in traditional garb, or hanbok, came up on the stage and had everyone stand up.  Please note that everything said on stage was in Korean, so we only knew what to do by following everyone else.  After everyone was standing, the lady was still talking and music began to play as well. Before I knew what was happening, Koreans all over the Plaza began to hold hands and then proceeded to skip off in a sort of snakelike line.  All of a sudden, I felt someone grab my own hand and looked up to see the bemused face of one of my friends from our group.  Some random guy had grabbed her hand and her expression told me that she was not going alone.  We were whisked away to join the dancing crowd, but not before I added another of our group to the line with my free hand.  I looked around the lawn to find dozens of concentric circles of joined hands and smiling faces.  Here and there I could spot other foreigners from our group with the same I-have-no-idea-what's-going-on-but-I'm-just-gonna-go-with-it expression on their faces.  I'm pretty sure they only mirrored my own.

Me trying to figure out what the heck just happened.

Soon the dancing and music died down, and the crowd began to disperse.  The revelry was indeed over for the evening.  Exhausted, we went back to the hotel to get ready to leave the next day.

TUESDAY

This last day, I was pretty tired, and a day at home doing absolutely nothing was beckoning to me.  We couldn't, however, leave Seoul without seeing the COEX Aquarium.  The aquarium had some pretty amazing fish, and I got to see a beaver and a manatee for the first time in real life.  Even so, four days chock full of walking and sightseeing had worn me pretty thin, and I kind of breezed through the exhibits, managing to narrowly escape stumbling over the hundreds of children scattered throughout the tiny rooms of the aquarium.  My spirits soared, however, when we were coming around a corner and I saw one of the most beautiful things I have yet seen here - a sign proclaiming the existence of an On the Border!  That's right, folks, my last meal in Seoul on my five day weekend was chicken fajita Tex Mex nachos at an On the Border American chain restaurant!  It was like the Heavens opened up and God had mercy on my poor little Mexican food deprived soul.

After a lovely, albeit exhausting, weekend, I am now home in Asan!  Thanks, Seoul, for being so much fun...even if you are WAY too spread out.

THE END! (for now)

Ginsengocide and a Warrior Turtle

25 September 2012

First of all, I must state that in Korea, there is a festival for EVERYTHING.  Apple festivals, floating lantern festivals, walnut cookie festivals, mud festivals.  You name it, there is a festival for it.  Last weekend, we decided to head a little further into the heart of Korea for the Ginseng Festival in Geumsan.  That's right, folks.  There is a Ginseng Festival.  We got up early Saturday morning and rode a bus for a couple hours to Daejon, a really large city in our province; then we transferred to another bus for another hour until we came to the smaller town of Geumsan.

When we got off the bus, we immediately began to collect stares.  The inhabitants of our city are pretty used to seeing foreigners.  For the most part.  In Geumsan, however, it seemed obvious that we were most likely a rarity.  Armed with my phrasebook, I looked up the word for "ginseng" and the word for "festival," hailed a taxi, spouted off my new Korean vocabulary, which, luckily, was not difficult for the driver to understand in spite of my heavy American accent, and we were off.  Even in small towns there are taxis here.  It seems easier to get a taxi in the smallest towns in Korea than it is to get one in Queens sometimes.  The cab maneuvered down crowded streets full to bursting with vendors of all sorts and their patrons, searching for the best bargain.  It was hard to tell where the normal Saturday open air market ended and the actual festival began.  At the entrance of the festival, we spotted tent after tent after tent filled with all things ginseng.  Occasionally, some folks who were staring at us would shout "Hello!" and then run away, giggling at having exhausted their entire English vocabulary with the use of that one word.  We waved a lot, smiled a lot, and bowed. A lot.

Everywhere we went, people plied us with various Geumsan ginseng delicacies.  There was one very kind, yet oddly assertive, gentleman leading us from tent to tent, trying to get us to taste and experience everything the festival had to offer.  There was ginseng tea, ginseng candy, ginseng wine, deep fried ginseng (couldn't quite bring myself to try this one), ginseng jellies, ginseng syrup (with a honey-like consistency), and, to the dismay of our already overstimulated taste buds, some sort of ginseng extract.  The good-natured ladies distributing samples gave each of us a popsicle stick they had dipped in jar full of a dark, thick liquid about the color and consistency of molasses, and then they smiled, eager for the positive reaction they were sure we would have when we tried their tasty treat.  As soon as the dark goo assaulted my tongue, it was everything I could do not to immediately search for the nearest napkin to wipe it away.  I don't know that I can even describe the taste fully.  It reminded me of when Dumbledore, in one of the Harry Potter books, says he came across a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean that tasted like earwax.  It was oddly bitter, metallic, and earthy, and left an aftertaste like nothing I have ever experienced.  The Hubby and I both looked at each other and tried to smile as we choked down the stuff.  We didn't want to offend, but... Man, that was nasty!  Speaking of Harry Potter, ginseng itself really reminds me of those screaming plants in the Chamber of Secrets books.  I kept half expecting to have to cover my ears to prevent passing out.

After we escaped the ginseng food gauntlet, we decided to go into the Museum.  There, you can learn all about how ginseng is the life-giving root that has sustained the Korean people and, indeed, the world for hundreds of years.  Did you know that ginseng is apparently good for every organ and system in your body?  You only thought that beans were the magical fruit.  As I travelled around the museum, looking at all the exhibits and photos, I noticed that we were being followed.  Every time I looked over my shoulder or a few feet away from me at various angles, I saw a guy who looked to be the official festival photographer snapping dozens of photos of me and the Hubby as we wandered the different showrooms.  He was accompanied by another guy with a video camera, who was also probably shooting promotional footage for the festival.  Later, as I perused a brochure, I noticed that it was littered with pictures of smiling foreigners who, like us, had visited the festival in years past.  If one were to look at advertisements and information pamphlets for next year's festival, I am pretty sure you will spot a couple of Americans who look uncannily like us smiling back at you from the pages.

After we had visited all three floors of the museum and learned about the wonders of ginseng, we were in the lobby deciding where to go next, when two women appeared at our sides and hurriedly led us (and by led I mean nicely, but firmly, grabbed our arms and pulled us) into an alcove where they thrust 3D glasses into our hands and then, for lack of a better word, shoved us into a small room with a movie screen.  The tiny theatre was packed, but we found two seats together in the back row.  Dozens of eyes followed us intently as we made our way to our seats.  Not sure what to expect, we sat down and put on our glasses as the lights began to dim.  What we saw next made the entire trip worthwhile.

We proceeded to watch a 3D cartoon (thankfully, with English subtitles) in which the god of Ginseng, ages ago, took pity on mere mortals and gave them this magical root.  As a result, the humans prospered greatly.  To protect the ginseng, the god appointed a warrior turtle to guard it from any that might seek to harm it and take away the life-giving energy it provided.  The god of Death, however, became angry and jealous of the humans' prosperity and decided to steal the ginseng from the people.  In the year 2011, the evil god succeeds and defeats the warrior turtle with his evil swarm of flying insects.  The film then cuts to a scene of people purchasing ginseng from a market, and as soon as the god steals the ginseng, they begin to writhe around in agony, clutching their heads, hearts, stomachs, arms, legs, etc. (all parts of the body which ginseng is supposed to benefit...sooo....the whole body, according to Koreans).  The roots they are buying shrivel in their hands.  Pain and anguish come to the people due to the loss of the ginseng.  All of a sudden, a man appears at the side of the defeated warrior turtle asking if he is too late.  We then discover that the man is from the future, from the year 2035, where the world is dying due to the loss of the ginseng. We see a glimpse into the future when the man is given his mission to travel back to 2011 and to stop the god of death from carrying out his evil plans.  In the scene from the future, there is a huge chart on the wall that shows a dark graph depicting the loss of human life in correlation to the loss of ginseng.  At the bottom of the chart, the word "ginsengocide" appears, written in English.

At this point in the film, the Hubby and I are trying our best to stifle the laughter that perpetually threatens to erupt from us as we take in the amazing-ness that is this whole cartoon experience.  Which is 4-D, by the way.  Air keeps blowing on us every time the evil flying insects appear.

As the film continues, the future-guy and the warrior turtle locate where the god of death has hidden the ginseng, encased in a glowing, blue force field.  They fight the god and defeat him, essentially killing death, mind you.  After the battle, the future-guy collapses, apparently dead.  The ginseng magically begins to grow around him, lifting his still form off the ground.  Then the ginseng begins to shoot off magic bubbles that float into the man's mouth, reviving him and restoring ginseng to the world.  Christian metaphors abound.

Best ginseng propaganda film EVER!

As the lights came back up in the theatre, the Hubby and I just stared at each other, open mouthed.  "That. Was. Awesome," he said, his smile matching my own.  Only in Korea.  We made our way back to the bus terminal and headed back to Daejon, satisfied with our entire experience, if only because we saw that incredibly strange, yet delightful cartoon.

At the terminal in Daejon, I turned around, looking for the ticketing booth, when, much to my surprise, I spotted a couple of people we had met at our orientation in Cheonan the month before.  I called to them, and we agreed to meet up later to hang out.  We all ended up staying in Daejon that night, having a great time with other native Engish speakers.

Daejon night life!

Can't wait for our next adventure in Seoul next weekend for Korean Thanksgiving, or Chuseok!  Stay tuned.