Jjimjilbang

I've been anxious lately. I hope it doesn't catch on, as I've lived a jolly and carefree life until it started about a week ago. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me. In idle moments, a pressure would rise in my chest and tighten like a wet towel being wrung out. I'd lose my breath and worry. Have I been eating unhealthy? When was the last time I exercised? Who was the youngest person to ever have a heart attack?

I thought about a close friend of mine who recently left Gwangju and returned home to Chicago. About a month before he left, I can recall him having trouble sleeping, terrible acid re-flux, and upon talking to him last week, the same weighty feeling in his chest. He saw a doctor who told him to cut out caffeine, exercise more, eat healthier, and take it easy.

Needing to relax was something I never actually needed to do. It just happened. It's who I was. But I guess leaving a place I've called home for two years and heading to a new life of unknowns was sneaking into my subconscious. Like the mold in my apartment, slowly creeping up the walls and baseboards of my happy-go-lucky psyche. 

One night I confided in a friend and he recommended I go to a jjimjilbang, a Korean style public bathhouse. He had been several times and on the one condition I didn't go with him, he thought it would be a great way to relax. I knew of one in the neighborhood next to mine and reasoned at least it could be one more Thomas Try Out before I left. 

I wanted to arrive early-ish and before anyone else got there. I wasn't thrilled about the prospect of wandering around a Korean YMCA nudist colony in complete confusion. I didn't expect any signs in English, nor anyone who spoke it. I was hoping for only one other man to be there with me. Just so I could tail him through the bathhouse and make sure I didn't end up on the women's half of the jjimjilbang or worse, outside in the 10 degree weather. Too many naked men, and I might not go through with it. But one, just one would be perfect.

The Sauna Jjimjilbang was on the 2nd and 3rd floor of an 8 story high rise. The main counter and women's bathhouse was on the 2nd and the men's was above. I gave the woman at the counter $5 and took my receipt upstairs. I opened the door and was surprised at how familiar everything looked. My initial thought was how much this looked like the bowling alleys I had been to. Shoe box size lockers about 7 feet high and a back room with tools, old machinery and piles of small clean towels. I half expected to see rows of bowling balls opposite the lockers but instead there were just nude Korean men.  

I fumbled through a conversation with a man who worked there as I figured out the shoe box size lockers were only for your shoes and not for your winter coat, scarf, hat, and back pack. I locked my sneakers up and carried the #42 key across the room, past vending machines and wooden benches, towards the lockers. The room itself was huge but not overwhelming. I was expecting hallways and doors marked with mysterious signage as I scampered naked, peeking in doorways, praying for an empty hot tub. In actuality it had a very comfortable feel about it.

I disrobed and as casually as I could muster, walked past 4 columns of clean, white towels and through the steamiest door I saw. I was in the jjimjilbang. It was only one room and about the size of an Applebee's or other causal dining restaurant. Rip down the walls, columns, and tacky decorations, pull out the booths and bar stools and you'd get an idea. Along the left wall were the showers for pre and post washing I guessed. In the NW corner stood a trio of empty massage tables. Inviting, but I was a bit overwhelmed to figure out how to procure one. Across from the main entrance was a long shallow pool of cold, still water that ran into the NE corner of the bathhouse. From there, jutting south, was a short pool lined with jets of warm water. In the cross hairs of the Jacuzzi jets were two saunas. I had no idea what either one was for but could see through the window that one had benches around the perimeter and the other had a young man walking in circles by himself. The heat can be too much for some people. 

The saunas ran to the SE wall and from there, more showers, and then restrooms before you ended back at the main doors. After showering I headed towards the center of the room where a giant, mosaic pillar of turquoise, coral, and white stones shot toward the ceiling and spread across the ceiling in yellow petals of concrete and glass. Three hot tubs of varying temperatures rested at the food of this pillar as stone amphibians and reptiles belched a sepia tinted water into each. I chose my hot tub based solely on the lowest total of men wading around the edges. I eased into the one nearest to the door and tried to make it seem like I belonged. The water looked like green tea and I let my eyes cautiously wander around the room. 

Turns out, the central pillar of the room wasn't the only surface covered in the Floridian color scheme. The walls around the room were speckled with blues, greens, and soft yellows. Dolphins leaped along the wall above the shallow pool and puffer fish floated above the Jacuzzi jets nearby. I felt like this was the kind of place you could meet a mermaid. Or merman, rather.

I climbed out of the green tea soup and walked into the sauna and sat down. The benches were hot and it took a while for my cheeks to grow accustomed to the heat. Then I realized how insanely hot everything else was in the room. I've never been in a sauna before. Unbelievably hot. I was struggling for air, hoping I wouldn't embarrass myself, and praying the man across from me would close his legs a bit more. Nobody needed that much leg room. It was a bit aggressive I thought.

After about 15 minutes, I took a quick dip in the cold pool along the back wall and back to the center of the room. This time I settled into a nice temperature and a seat with a good line of sight. Black and white angel fish encrusted between the dolphins and puffer fish with nary a nude passerby to obstruct my vision. I fell into a deep calm. Only the sound of bubbling water and wet feet on tile and stone. I began to relax and take it all in.

I was pleasantly surprised by how little attention I received. I figured to have to explain to several people that I only spoke a little Korean and then close my eyes until they got the hint. I expected little boys screaming and splashing in a pool with muzak blanketing everything. But there was none. A friendly nod was the most attention I got and was really the only attention I saw towards anyone. Everyone seemed to be there for the sole purpose of a quiet escape. There were no cell phones, no chatty wives or girl friends, and no meddlesome small talk. We were a commune of men, exposed but safe in our numbers, all hanging out in the mermaid's grotto.

I did another lap of the sauna, pool, and hot tub before showering up and walking back out to the lockers. I grabbed a towel and dried off outside the doors, tossing the damp 1'x3' rag into a hamper. The nook where my locker was stood empty. I unlocked #42 and dried my hair again. As the towel slid off my eyes, two men appeared with me in the nook. One on the bench opposite me and the other a few lockers down. I recognized them both. The ones moppish faux-hawk sat next to me in one of the hot tubs and the others rotund, healthy gut bounced into my life as I sat in the sauna. We all got dressed silently. The faux-hawk was combed down and a shirt and tie came on, while the other pulled on a pair of spandex pants and climate controlled hiking gear. We turned the keys in our lockers and buttoned our coats. We were strangers again, suiting up for the frigid outside world.  

     

Dentist

My Korean adventure is quickly coming to an end. In less than 2 months I will be heading home, putting an end to the overwhelming amount of new opportunities for Thomas Try Outs. While I am overly excited to be close to friends and family again, there are things I am not looking forward to. Being uninsured is a big one.

Although I've never had a cavity, I am not proud to say that I haven't been to the dentist in over 3 years. Coupled with no insurance, I never had any reason to go. Now that I'll be returning to my home country and paying for dental appointments out of pocket, I decided it would be a good educational and financial decision to give the Korean dentist a try. 

Aside from the price there is quality and quantity. It seems that every student's dream job is to be either a doctor or dentist and I think at least half grow up to be one. There are dentist offices everywhere. The one I chose was owned by the father of one of my past students. I made an appt. through a friend of mine and showed up at 9 AM on Saturday morning.

The office was what I expected from Korea. Shiny chrome, marble, and white. All of the dental assistants wore high heels and pencil mini skirts and giggled frequently. The waiting room was unnecessary as the assistants whisked us away one after the other. First I sat down at the front desk and had my blood pressure taken. I wasn't sure why and I should add here that Stephanie was going to have 2 wisdom teeth pulled at the same time as my cleaning. I started to fantasize about awful mix-up scenarios. 

Shortly after my blood pressure screening I was taken to one side of the office. I was a upset I didn't get the other side as it overlooked the snow covered city street through huge glass windows. Mine wasn't too shabby though. The equipment looked standard, aside from a Samsung flat screen TV monitor attached to the chair. They took pictures with a hi-tech camera of sorts and brought them out to me on an iPad. The dentist discussed that he would be scaling my teeth (not pulling) and it would take 15 minutes and cost $60. 

The scaling was a routine cleaning. Everything was typical except for the beginning and end. As the chair reclined into a horizontal position the dental hygienist covered my face with what looked like a donut for hemorrhoids sufferers. A hole in the middle surrounded my mouth as the rest of it blocked out any eye contact. I closed my eyes and imagined what a toilet bowl felt like watching someone put the seat down. But it was quick and painless. Afterwards she propped up her Korean to English dictionary and showed me a model of perfect teeth, asking me to demonstrate how I brushed. I held the over-sized toothbrush and put on a clinic of my own. She nodded in approval then held my hand and went over some new techniques to add to my arsenal. It was awkward because I'm 27 and she was teaching me how to brush my teeth. 

Then we were done. I complimented her English and she my Korean. I was honest and she a liar. When I went to pay there was more giggling from the assistants huddled together. The price was $10 less than the Dr. told me, so I thanked them and left. The no cavity streak continues and I can tell people what dentist offices are like in Korea. Win win.

Dentist, check

Calendar Shoot

This was not the role I envisioned myself having. I was supposed to be behind the camera, zooming in on bikini clad women, surrounded by white sand and blue waves. However, I was offered a different perspective as I tried on the role of the bikini clad coed.

This morning's kindergarten activities were all the same. Usually we offer an intensely diverse curriculum for our 3-6 year olds. Math, Language Arts, Science, Cooking, Geography. I kid you not, Geography. Well, there is a new semester coming up and preparations have already begun to woo new parents, so we had to switch gears a bit and focus on the prize ahead. That's how I ended up being a model for our school's new calendar.

Don't be fooled. I'm not overwhelmingly handsome enough to overtake all 12 months of 2013, but I wouldn't be surprised if I was Miss March and hopefully Miss September. All of the english teachers at our school were posed and prodded into photogenic positions. I like to think mine were a bit more memorable.

We'll start with my first shoot. The Art Class. I'm assuming each month will debut a class activity that our school offers. Phonics, Cooking, Science, etc. We don't actually have an art class currently but who's to say a handsome American face can't make that happen?

My kindergarten class and I were ushered out of our classroom and into a neighboring one. Inside, 4 easels were set up with a clean sheet of paper. In the center of the room was a lone table. My stage. I sat down on the table and offered poses I remembered from Will Ferrell's skit on SNL. The students began to draw, the camera snapped away, and I was in a Korean school posing for their upcoming calendar. Don't ever let anyone tell you dreams don't come true.

When I wore the camera out, I was headed outdoors for some fun in the sun. I would be shooting for the P.E. portion of our curriculum (also non-existent). Two miniature basketball hoops were set up opposite each other and a new class was gathered around me in between. My assignment was a tricky one. The ever elusive "action jump" shot. Hard enough with grown adults, but with eight 6 year olds...they needed a professional. I must have thrown the basketball into the air 50 times. The students mimicking the ball's trajectory, as I blankly smile and laugh at the situation. It was grand!

By the end of my second shoot, I was worn out. Those girls on America's Next Top Model don't have it so easy. Modeling is hard work! I was really thirsty too! But I wasn't about to let some other english teacher become Miss September! Not on my watch! On to the third shoot.

Science time. My third different class was again gathered around me and a portable gas range stove. Atop the stove was a 1.5 ft. metal tube. The idea would be to place a floppy tissue paper balloon over the pipe and turn the stove on. The balloon fills with hot air and floats to the heavens. The children cry with delight as I look down and pat one on the head saying, "Isn't science wonderful?"

We tried several takes to get this to happen but the closest we got was the balloon floating away and disappearing into the chilly November afternoon. One of the damn kids blinked and messed up the take so we had to try again. We took our second balloon and positioned ourselves in front of a much nicer background. The balloon was ready, the kids were feigning interest, and I turned on the stove.

The wind blew the tissue paper balloon over top of the metal tube, trapping the hot air and creating a fire ball that sent all the students running and screaming. The tissue paper went up in a flash as I tried to stomp out the flames like a mad man. The other teachers screamed in horror as a passing elderly couple looked on with growing intrigue. Luckily as fast as it caught fire, it was out and the only harm done was to my rubber Chuck Taylor sole.

Artist, Athlete, Scientist, Stuntman. Miss September.

Calendar shoot, check

Dry Armpits

This past summer was the hottest season of my life. It almost certainly wasn't the highest temperature I've experienced but it felt like it. I think I had too many internal stresses, pushing, pulling and radiating heat along with the humid, brothy atmosphere. The past three months wrecked havoc on a typically optimistic outlook of summers in general and my attitude towards pretty much everybody. A particularly bitter lens was slid in front of everyone and everything Korea. Alas they weren't my problem. Sometimes you need to look at yourself first and then your unsightly pit stains.

I've never thought of myself as a sweaty fellow. Sure I was one of the kids who tried hard in gym class and ended up sweaty but that was different. I was exercising my right to dominate you in dodgeball. Now however, just being awake and standing up outside is enough to create delightful halos of sweat beneath each arm.

I learned to deal with it as best I could. 2 shirts was mandatory if I was in an establishment that frowned on the party tank, otherwise that was my summer uniform. This past weekend I had a wedding to attend and had no appropriate summer clothes. I was left with very few options.

I owe it all to my friend. Anthony had been in my ear about his secret to beating the heat since I met him. He too had experienced an overwhelming surge of sweat since arriving and the constant "Ewww Dirty Teacher!" was enough for him to make a change. Anthony's secret was DriClor. It's the anti-perspirant to end all anti-perspirants! I was 100% sure it had cancer in it, so I avoided it for nearly a year but couldn't hold out any longer. I bought it the night before my friend's wedding. Bought it, applied it, and prayed.

That is past sweat not present sweat

That ladies and gentleman is a new man. Improved, confident, and dare I say sure? Sure of himself, sure of his new outlook on life, and sure that he may have cancer. But I ask myself is it worth it? Is it worth smoking cigarettes and being cool knowing what lies ahead? Is it worth eating that whole entire pizza just to prove it to...well nobody? Is it worth immediate gratification for long term heartache? I have no idea but I don't sweat when I stand outside anymore. Boom.


Dry Armpits, check

Migraine

I have two memories of migraines. Neither of them affected me directly, rather it was a friend and family member. I started to notice my friend Chad was not on the morning school bus, usually for a few days at a time. I was shy but observant and eventually asked about my friend's whereabouts. "He has migraines," a boy said. "Oh that's a headache," I thought to myself. "Chad baby."

My Aunt also had episodes. My mother too, but her sister's experiences I remember more vividly. She is a very quiet person, who could easily slip into the background of a raucous family gathering. When that was the case, often times it was because of a migraine. "Your aunt went to lie down upstairs," my grandmother would say. "Oh she gets to take a nap," I thought to myself. "Big baby."

Welp, last week I had my first migraine. Just Tried It Out cause I heard how much fun they were! And before I continue and forget, I want to apologize for my thoughts of apathy toward all migraine sufferers in years past. They suck.a.lot.

I was teaching my last class of the day, tutoring a 12 yr old girl, when I looked up toward the ceiling at my room's air conditioning unit. I caught a quick glimpse of the lights overhead and they stayed in my vision like staring at the sun too long. As they normally do I expected it to dissipate. Walking home I couldn't shake the hollowed out center of my vision, and I started to feel ill. By the time I got home the headaches had sunk in above and behind my eye sockets. Walking, seeing, talking, and hearing made everything worse. At this point Stephanie didn't know what was happening and I wanted to punch her every time she asked me a question.

I needed complete darkness and silence. I needed space. I needed an empty room in an empty house. I wanted this to stop. It was bad enough that work consumed my days, now it was creeping into my nights. I barely remember dinner and scarfing down two tacos under a dim, table lamp. Immediately I retreated to the bedroom and prayed for silence. When that did not work, I defied my logic and used my voice to ask Steph to search for remedies, cures, and potions. A long, hot shower later, the pain was subsiding and I had dozed off to sleep.

When I woke the next morning, my vision and head still felt off. Like a projector that's been bumped askew, I wanted nothing more than to be realigned. I tiptoed through the morning, knowing I had an 8 hour teaching day ahead of me. The thought of imminent and loud chaos was enough to put me back in I thought. However, I can safely say the migraine never returned and I hope it stays away. It made it's slow and debilitating point. I imagine the early stages of a python constricting your skull to be similar to a migraine. But maybe I'm just a big baby.

Migraine, check.

Korea School Cancellation

Yeah, yeah...kids freak when school is cancelled. I remember being promised flurries, looking out my window and having miniature seizures. Willing the clouds to snow more than the weatherman promised and release me from my horrible life of show n' tell, snack time, and one hour recess. Wherein I could watch Maury and play Sega Genesis in my pajamas until dinner. Of course if that failed I would dare the feeble mind of our Superintendent to prematurely cancel school. In that case, less snow was favored, as it proved I had won a battle of the minds from my bedroom window. 

Well now I'm a grown up. A grown up teaching English in Korea. I never thought I would feel that same joy ever again. Although I plan to become an elementary school teacher when I return to the US, I never thought I would experience a school cancellation in Korea. The land where education comes before physical exercise, healthy sleeping habits, and normal social interactions. Especially since I teach at an after school, um....school, called a "hagwon." Most students come here after school in case any of the aforementioned perils should attack them on their walk home. The stage is thus set for education to overcome even common sense.

As word got out that schools across the country would be closed as Typhoon Bolaven swung up towards the west coast of the peninsula, I sat and stared out my window. I wasn't willing school teachers or storm clouds this time, but wondering if I could slide out the crack of my 5th story window. After speaking to our manager I learned we would remain open until further notice. I heard open and my idiotic hope was crushed.

What's this? What's this? 

My phone's blinking on the chair! 

What's this?

A message sent with care!

What's this?

I can't believe my eyes.

I must be dreaming, or perhaps there's been an err!

What's this!

School's canceled and it feels unbelievable. 

Our manager sent us a message telling us to rest and not to risk the treacherous 400 m. to work tomorrow. I immediately high fived my girlfriend with my foot and thought of all I would do with my new day off. Not only that, but the positive changes it would have on the rest of my week. A 5 day work week becomes a 3 day pleasure stroll. An impromptu opportunity to shack up inside, watch movies, and like my childhood...play video games. Little did I realize how my teachers were enjoying the very same thing as I was. 

Korea School Cancellation, check.

Gyeongju

This past weekend I had 5 days off and wanted to explore Korea more than I have. I have been to all of the major cities and a few beaches during the warmer months. Gyeongju is a city on the east coast about an hour north of Busan. It's self appointed nickname is the "museum without walls," and I guess I could buy that. The downtown boasts several interesting destinations within walking distance. All or most of the sites showcase the ancient Silla dynasty and their Buddhist upbringing.

We stayed in a hostel in the center of downtown, which was great for walking through Anpaji Pond, the Tumuli, and seeing the observation tower. I think Stephanie and I were more impressed with the lotus pond. I don't think I'd ever seen lotus plants that big or plentiful. After a day of walking we looked for a decent restaurant around the hostel but found only chain restaurants. We settled for a so-so bulgogi restaurant, overpaid, and left to look for a bar.

There are none in the main city center. I was stunned. Luckily a blog I found let us in on a university area nearby that had everything we were looking for. We found a great pizza place believe it or not and had some beers outside on a picnic table. The next night we would come back to partake in some of the best dalkgalbi we've had in Korea and a convenience store that sold Vietnamese beer. If you're in the neighborhood I have a great street to recommend.

Our last full day in Gyeongju we got up early and headed for Bulguksa, Korea's most famous temple. On the outskirts of the city and on a mountain slope sits the Buddhist temple grounds known for it's seamless existence in the mountain. Beautifully laid out, I wasn't so amazed at the buildings as much as Kyoto's but the temple grounds were very nice. Above Bulguksa was Seokguram grotto, housing a huge white granite buddha. Sadly I couldn't take pictures but it was beautiful.

Great place to visit, some nice sites, good food, and only an hour from Busan.

Gyeongju, check.