Watch this video. It makes sense to me. I've got a blog coming up soon.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zORv8wwiadQ
This guys sums up everything I feel about the global warming debate.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Sunday, January 6, 2008
A change is gonna come
I don't hate Republicans. I don't like George W. but I would hope people not assume that means I don't like Republicans. I'm not a Democrat either by the way. I would never judge an entire group of people (in this case Republicans) because some of their members are wastes of skin. I know what it's like to be hated because of a group I belong to. So when I talk about my dislike of George W. I am not saying I dislike Republicans. I was brought up in a Republican household after all. We really need to get past this party identification bullshit anyways. It has been disintegrating our politics for a long time.
It's kind of odd being here while politics in the US are heating up right now. There seems to be so much going on and a lot of excitement in both parties. I'm curious to see who will get the final nod for their parties. I have absolutely no idea who will win in the end. Someone asked me here if I thought Hilary's tears had anything to do with her winning the New Hampshire primaries. I thought the question was kind of silly but I answered it anyways. I told him I think Hilary being Hilary had something to do with her winning the New Hampshire primaries.
Enough politics though. I'm not sure when I will set foot on US soil again. I've been looking at jobs back in Portland and it's pretty slim pickings. It just wouldn't make sense to leave job opportunities here for no jobs there. I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life and I don't have any answers. I'm kind of old to have no answers in that department. I need to do something creative. That much I know. I would shrivel up and die in an office. I start breathing fast just thinking about it. Hmmmm. What does Chris want to do with his life? I refuse to not be happy and I refuse to settle for a safe life. I think we are conditioned to settle for life. We are conditioned to do what's safe and comfortable but I say "hell to the naw". It's just not in me.
I've started an improv group at my work though. There are some other teachers who have acting experience and are very creative so that should be nice. I'm also hoping to talk to one of the Spanish speaking teachers and learn some Spanish this year. Wouldn't that be funny to move to Korea and learn Spanish? I've started writing again too. Just a little bit though. My brother was a good writer. I say was because I'm not sure if he's written anything in a long time. He had a talent though. I still remember this story he wrote in middle school about this kid who was thinking about killing himself because he had no friends. He climbed on top of these rafters and put a noose around his neck. The moment that he was about to jump off he got a phone call. He answered the phone and it was some kid inviting him to come over and hang out. Now, until this moment I never thought about the fact that the boy was up in the rafters and he was able to answer the phone. My bro wrote this pre-cell phone after all. Anyways, the kid gets all excited and says he'll be right over and the story ends with the boy smiling and happy and jumping off the rafters. HE FORGOT TO TAKE THE NOOSE OFF AND HE HANGS HIMSELF. Now, even though I was young I could still tell this story was fucked up but damn good too. My brother was not into happy endings. It's popular to not have the happy ending these days but 20 some years ago it was not that popular. I mean, how messed up is that story. It still doesn't sit right in me. Like Romeo and Juliet. Every time I read the play or watch one of the movies I find myself talking to the characters. Just hold on! Wait one more minute before you take the poison. She ain't dead playa! She ain't dead!!!! That's the feeling I got when I read my brothers story. Take the noose off fool! Take it off!!! My brothers a really good artist too. I think he got that from my mom and dad but probably more my dad. They both like to draw and they are both good. I'm always amazed by people who have talents that they don't use all the time. If I could play the guitar I would walk around with a guitar in my hand singing made up songs. But I do understand it can be hard to keep your talents fresh. Life does happen after all. I'm not really one to talk. I would love to be on stage somewhere memorizing lines for an original play.
Sometimes it's easier to pretend like it's not realistic to pursue what you love. So a few days ago I found myself typing on the laptop. I'm not sure if it will go anywhere but I'm trying. I found myself surrounded by people who enjoy the arts and theater and I thought I'd take advantage of that and start a group so we can all keep our skills fresh. Why? I'm not sure, but I feel in my heart that it's important for me to not shut the door on creative expression.
It's kind of scary to think you might be really really good at something. But, I need to have more faith in myself. Who said youth is wasted on the young was so right. It's amazing how much stronger I am now that I'm an old man...ok, I'm not that old. The great thing about being a live is it's never to late to start living. It would really suck to not at least try. I go to sleep at night and I have these dreams. I'm not joking. I have these dreams about the possibility of my life. I wake up and I know it's all out there. I know that I have to walk the path and find my light.
I want my life to be like listening to your favorite songs. You know that feeling you get when a song you loves plays. You whole body feels lighter and your skin tightens. It's the feeling I get when I hear Ray LaMontagne song. He puts it all out there. It almost hurts to listen to him but in a good way.
I think about all the wonderful people I know. I know a lot of great human beings. They are very talented in their own ways and I want to harness all that energy some how and put it to work for me. I don't mean that in a fucked up way either. I'm being honest. I have an amazing group of people who are in my life. I would love to be able to work with all of them in some capacity. I think I've been waiting for someone to organize it and propose something but what if that person is me? Seriously. What if I'm waiting for myself? Hmmmmm. I can't let this feeling slip away. I do that too much. Gotta go. Write more later.
Cdubs
It's kind of odd being here while politics in the US are heating up right now. There seems to be so much going on and a lot of excitement in both parties. I'm curious to see who will get the final nod for their parties. I have absolutely no idea who will win in the end. Someone asked me here if I thought Hilary's tears had anything to do with her winning the New Hampshire primaries. I thought the question was kind of silly but I answered it anyways. I told him I think Hilary being Hilary had something to do with her winning the New Hampshire primaries.
Enough politics though. I'm not sure when I will set foot on US soil again. I've been looking at jobs back in Portland and it's pretty slim pickings. It just wouldn't make sense to leave job opportunities here for no jobs there. I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life and I don't have any answers. I'm kind of old to have no answers in that department. I need to do something creative. That much I know. I would shrivel up and die in an office. I start breathing fast just thinking about it. Hmmmm. What does Chris want to do with his life? I refuse to not be happy and I refuse to settle for a safe life. I think we are conditioned to settle for life. We are conditioned to do what's safe and comfortable but I say "hell to the naw". It's just not in me.
I've started an improv group at my work though. There are some other teachers who have acting experience and are very creative so that should be nice. I'm also hoping to talk to one of the Spanish speaking teachers and learn some Spanish this year. Wouldn't that be funny to move to Korea and learn Spanish? I've started writing again too. Just a little bit though. My brother was a good writer. I say was because I'm not sure if he's written anything in a long time. He had a talent though. I still remember this story he wrote in middle school about this kid who was thinking about killing himself because he had no friends. He climbed on top of these rafters and put a noose around his neck. The moment that he was about to jump off he got a phone call. He answered the phone and it was some kid inviting him to come over and hang out. Now, until this moment I never thought about the fact that the boy was up in the rafters and he was able to answer the phone. My bro wrote this pre-cell phone after all. Anyways, the kid gets all excited and says he'll be right over and the story ends with the boy smiling and happy and jumping off the rafters. HE FORGOT TO TAKE THE NOOSE OFF AND HE HANGS HIMSELF. Now, even though I was young I could still tell this story was fucked up but damn good too. My brother was not into happy endings. It's popular to not have the happy ending these days but 20 some years ago it was not that popular. I mean, how messed up is that story. It still doesn't sit right in me. Like Romeo and Juliet. Every time I read the play or watch one of the movies I find myself talking to the characters. Just hold on! Wait one more minute before you take the poison. She ain't dead playa! She ain't dead!!!! That's the feeling I got when I read my brothers story. Take the noose off fool! Take it off!!! My brothers a really good artist too. I think he got that from my mom and dad but probably more my dad. They both like to draw and they are both good. I'm always amazed by people who have talents that they don't use all the time. If I could play the guitar I would walk around with a guitar in my hand singing made up songs. But I do understand it can be hard to keep your talents fresh. Life does happen after all. I'm not really one to talk. I would love to be on stage somewhere memorizing lines for an original play.
Sometimes it's easier to pretend like it's not realistic to pursue what you love. So a few days ago I found myself typing on the laptop. I'm not sure if it will go anywhere but I'm trying. I found myself surrounded by people who enjoy the arts and theater and I thought I'd take advantage of that and start a group so we can all keep our skills fresh. Why? I'm not sure, but I feel in my heart that it's important for me to not shut the door on creative expression.
It's kind of scary to think you might be really really good at something. But, I need to have more faith in myself. Who said youth is wasted on the young was so right. It's amazing how much stronger I am now that I'm an old man...ok, I'm not that old. The great thing about being a live is it's never to late to start living. It would really suck to not at least try. I go to sleep at night and I have these dreams. I'm not joking. I have these dreams about the possibility of my life. I wake up and I know it's all out there. I know that I have to walk the path and find my light.
I want my life to be like listening to your favorite songs. You know that feeling you get when a song you loves plays. You whole body feels lighter and your skin tightens. It's the feeling I get when I hear Ray LaMontagne song. He puts it all out there. It almost hurts to listen to him but in a good way.
I think about all the wonderful people I know. I know a lot of great human beings. They are very talented in their own ways and I want to harness all that energy some how and put it to work for me. I don't mean that in a fucked up way either. I'm being honest. I have an amazing group of people who are in my life. I would love to be able to work with all of them in some capacity. I think I've been waiting for someone to organize it and propose something but what if that person is me? Seriously. What if I'm waiting for myself? Hmmmmm. I can't let this feeling slip away. I do that too much. Gotta go. Write more later.
Cdubs
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Quick Blog
South Korea is very cold in the winter. I got spoiled in Portland. It doesn't really snow there, it just rains...which also sucks. Rain vs Cold? It's are hard choice. In Portland you have the color dank spread over the whole city. Everything gets wet and the mold comes out to play. Here in Korea you have the biting cold and I do mean biting. It actually feels like tens of millions of ant are feeding on any exposed flesh when it's cold here. The only saving grace for this place in the winter has to be the sun. When the sun comes out, which is often, it casts a warm, golden film over the entire land. The sun doesn't really come out in Portland until the spring. I used to think I didn't mind the cold. Being born and raised in Michigan you get used to it. I realize now I was wrong. I don't like the cold. I like warm weather, not hot, warm. I wonder what the temperature of amniotic fluid is? That was not a random statement. I have a feeling whatever the temperature of amniotic fluid is the temperature most human beings desire to be in. Think about that one for a while.
Have I told you about the insane cab driver a fellow teacher and I took back to our work one night? It was one of those nights where nothing and I do mean NOTHING worked out. We went out to get some food and watch a movie. The night ended with us eating a very small (not normal for Korea) not so good meal, not making it to the movie in time, and spending about twenty dollars each on a tiny bag of candy.
I'll keep this short. We went out to get some Thai food, it was bad. We walked about three miles in the cold looking for a movie theater, we didn't find it. We found a candy shop that had no prices on anything....big mistake! We walked another two miles until a cab finally stopped to pick us up....he was insane. About half way back to our work campus the driver started speaking in Korean very loudly. We couldn't understand him until he said "CANDY" and held up a paper cup in front of our faces. At first I was confused and then I realized he was demanding we give up some of our candy! It was both funny and ridiculous. He kept shaking his cup and laughing while repeating "CANDY". Now we had just spent way to much money on the precious candy we were holding but he had the upper hand...he was driving us home. BASTARD!!! I reluctantly poured some tasty nuggets into the hijackers cup. He laughed! We got home safely, but we were both holding lighter bags of candy then we started out with.
So I just turned on the TV and saw that Obama won the Iowa Caucuses. I am surprised at how happy this makes me. I literally lit up. I feel warm and hopeful. It has been a long long time since I have felt this way about anything in the USA. I know there is a tough road ahead but just for one moment I am allowing myself to believe that there is hope for my country of birth. I'm sure race will enter into the campaign more and more but I remain hopeful. I have a feeling that George W. Bush may have had something to do with it. Bare with me. I think that you have a lot of white people in the states who are undercover bigots. They probably don't even realize it. The just don't think a Black person could be president. These people have friends of all different races but they have these underlying issues. However, if you look at all the damage Bush has done to this country and then you take a deep breath and look at the direction our country is heading you can't not think we need a huge change. Obama is an intelligent, capable human being who has aspirations of being president. He happens to be Black. I hope that people will look at the whole individual for these upcoming elections and not just the color of their skin. There are capable people and there's the Bush Administration. If you honesty feel that our current president has put our country on the right path then I want you to stop reading this Blog, walk to the nearest mirror, point, and just keep on laughing because you are the village idiot! Don't feel too bad though because you are not alone. He was re-elected after all.
Gotta go teach some Koreans.
Have I told you about the insane cab driver a fellow teacher and I took back to our work one night? It was one of those nights where nothing and I do mean NOTHING worked out. We went out to get some food and watch a movie. The night ended with us eating a very small (not normal for Korea) not so good meal, not making it to the movie in time, and spending about twenty dollars each on a tiny bag of candy.
I'll keep this short. We went out to get some Thai food, it was bad. We walked about three miles in the cold looking for a movie theater, we didn't find it. We found a candy shop that had no prices on anything....big mistake! We walked another two miles until a cab finally stopped to pick us up....he was insane. About half way back to our work campus the driver started speaking in Korean very loudly. We couldn't understand him until he said "CANDY" and held up a paper cup in front of our faces. At first I was confused and then I realized he was demanding we give up some of our candy! It was both funny and ridiculous. He kept shaking his cup and laughing while repeating "CANDY". Now we had just spent way to much money on the precious candy we were holding but he had the upper hand...he was driving us home. BASTARD!!! I reluctantly poured some tasty nuggets into the hijackers cup. He laughed! We got home safely, but we were both holding lighter bags of candy then we started out with.
So I just turned on the TV and saw that Obama won the Iowa Caucuses. I am surprised at how happy this makes me. I literally lit up. I feel warm and hopeful. It has been a long long time since I have felt this way about anything in the USA. I know there is a tough road ahead but just for one moment I am allowing myself to believe that there is hope for my country of birth. I'm sure race will enter into the campaign more and more but I remain hopeful. I have a feeling that George W. Bush may have had something to do with it. Bare with me. I think that you have a lot of white people in the states who are undercover bigots. They probably don't even realize it. The just don't think a Black person could be president. These people have friends of all different races but they have these underlying issues. However, if you look at all the damage Bush has done to this country and then you take a deep breath and look at the direction our country is heading you can't not think we need a huge change. Obama is an intelligent, capable human being who has aspirations of being president. He happens to be Black. I hope that people will look at the whole individual for these upcoming elections and not just the color of their skin. There are capable people and there's the Bush Administration. If you honesty feel that our current president has put our country on the right path then I want you to stop reading this Blog, walk to the nearest mirror, point, and just keep on laughing because you are the village idiot! Don't feel too bad though because you are not alone. He was re-elected after all.
Gotta go teach some Koreans.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Time flys
Time sure does fly by when you don't speak the language! It's hard man. I'm trying and I'm going to keep on trying but this language is difficult. I think I'm going to have to find a Korean language buddy which should be too hard. By the way, I'm a universal when it comes to being laughed at. Old Korean women love me, I don't know why but they do. They love to try and speak to me and then they love to hear my many mistakes when I try to say something back in Korean. Lucky for me I don't mind making a fool of myself. The holidays don't really feel like the holidays here. Danielle and I went south to Busan (Pusan) for Christmas because it's a little bit warmer down south. It was fun. It was more what I expected Korea to be like. Lots of markets, lots of old school structures and excellent food. Aghhh! You can eat so good here. It's so healthy. All I ate was thin cuts of mean, lots of garlic and veggies. I didn't smell that great but I was happy. The crowds were pretty intense though. I've said it before, there is no space out here. You're pretty much always in a crowd which must have a lot to do with the low low crime rate. It's also really clean here....on the streets anyways. Danielle and I were walking around late at night and we were discussing how there isn't really a bad area. There's no area where you turn around and go the long way home. You walk under bridges, through tunnels, down alley ways and it's all good.
Danielle and I accidentally ended up down a back street which was full of Eastern European prostitutes. I didn't really figure it out until Danielle said something. There were a lot of cool neon lights and Danielle was taking pictures when she figured it out. We noticed there were lots of white women in short short skirts and lots of make up staring at us. It was odd but not scary. Korea started "importing" prostitutes from Eastern Europe about ten years ago and as a result ALL women from Eastern Europe are treated like shit by a majority of Koreans.
I finally did a little bit of shopping this weekend. What's more holiday then spending money right? I bought a coat. We went to a department store and people were swarming like ants. I found a really nice coat and was about to try it on when this old women who worked there stopped me, put her hands on the sides of my shoulders and yelled some word. She then got out the same style coat but in a plastic bag. I assumed it was a larger size and it was. I still can't figure out what that word was she yelled but it must have been something like "Huge Man!" The coat fit perfectly though.
People are tall here but they are not very big. I have not really seen a fat person. As a matter of fact they have a show like the biggest loser here and it's sad how much fatter the U.S. is then most other places. The fat people here and on this show would never have made it onto the biggest loser in the U.S. They would have been laughed at.
Time really is going by fast here, I think it will be over before I'm ready and then I have to figure out what to do next. I'm going to enjoy the time I have here and try to make the most of it. The job is not hard at all. The kids are still great and if you're motivated (which I am) you can make this job really work for you. Some people are here to drink and party which I find funny because you can do that any where. You don't have to live in another country to do that. It seems that the people who party the most here (the foreigners) are the ones who have the least amount of contact with Koreans.
I have a little story before I go. This past week I was sitting with one of the kids houses during a movie when some of the boys surrounded me and started asking me all sorts of questions and just talking to me. They like to say "I love you" instead of "I like you" and they love to tell you how handsome you are. I thought this was nice until I realized they called everyone handsome and it wasn't just my universal good looks. Anyways, this young man with limited English starts talking to me and he says "You Black man....White man....O.K. handsome! Black man.....Very Handsome....Most Handsome!" I really had no idea what to say to this so I chuckled, said thank you and asked him to be quiet because the movie was about to start.
Happy Holidays!
Chris
Danielle and I accidentally ended up down a back street which was full of Eastern European prostitutes. I didn't really figure it out until Danielle said something. There were a lot of cool neon lights and Danielle was taking pictures when she figured it out. We noticed there were lots of white women in short short skirts and lots of make up staring at us. It was odd but not scary. Korea started "importing" prostitutes from Eastern Europe about ten years ago and as a result ALL women from Eastern Europe are treated like shit by a majority of Koreans.
I finally did a little bit of shopping this weekend. What's more holiday then spending money right? I bought a coat. We went to a department store and people were swarming like ants. I found a really nice coat and was about to try it on when this old women who worked there stopped me, put her hands on the sides of my shoulders and yelled some word. She then got out the same style coat but in a plastic bag. I assumed it was a larger size and it was. I still can't figure out what that word was she yelled but it must have been something like "Huge Man!" The coat fit perfectly though.
People are tall here but they are not very big. I have not really seen a fat person. As a matter of fact they have a show like the biggest loser here and it's sad how much fatter the U.S. is then most other places. The fat people here and on this show would never have made it onto the biggest loser in the U.S. They would have been laughed at.
Time really is going by fast here, I think it will be over before I'm ready and then I have to figure out what to do next. I'm going to enjoy the time I have here and try to make the most of it. The job is not hard at all. The kids are still great and if you're motivated (which I am) you can make this job really work for you. Some people are here to drink and party which I find funny because you can do that any where. You don't have to live in another country to do that. It seems that the people who party the most here (the foreigners) are the ones who have the least amount of contact with Koreans.
I have a little story before I go. This past week I was sitting with one of the kids houses during a movie when some of the boys surrounded me and started asking me all sorts of questions and just talking to me. They like to say "I love you" instead of "I like you" and they love to tell you how handsome you are. I thought this was nice until I realized they called everyone handsome and it wasn't just my universal good looks. Anyways, this young man with limited English starts talking to me and he says "You Black man....White man....O.K. handsome! Black man.....Very Handsome....Most Handsome!" I really had no idea what to say to this so I chuckled, said thank you and asked him to be quiet because the movie was about to start.
Happy Holidays!
Chris
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
In the past three days...
Here's the short of it, in the past three days I have tried to teach English to 20 young boys who can only say "yes" and "no", ordered way to much food for just two people (Shabu Shabu), made a two and a half year old Korean girl cry out of control, slept on the smallest bed in the universe, been side checked by elderly Koreans on the subway, and had to endure a very old man taking off his shoes and his socks while sitting very close to me on the train back home!
This past weekend I was teaching a class with a teacher from South Africa. We were explaining the rules to this word game we were about to play when we realized none of them spoke any English what so ever. Where I work, the kids come in and stay for one week. It's meant to get them comfortable having conversations with English speaking people so we get schools from all over the country. The cool thing about that is I get to meet a hell of a lot of people. The bad thing is that I never really get to develop a relationship with the kids, not a lasting one anyways. But usually we get kids who have been taking English at their schools for a few years....not this time. For an hour and a half my co teacher and I only heard "yes" and "no". We would ask, "How are you doing?" Answer, "yes". "Where are you from?" Answer, "no".
After my last class on Sunday I went home with Danielle and we ate at a place near her apartment. We ate something called Shabu Shabu which is basically very thinly sliced red meat with a huge place of veggies and some dumplings. The meat is raw and so are the veggies. They bring out a pot of broth and heat it up at the table. They then cut the veggies up and dump them into the bowl. We then take our meat and dip it into the boiling concoction. Because the meat is so thin it cooks in seconds. It's so good but I ordered way too much. Danielle and I knew right away we ordered too much. I think we ordered enough for 4 people. Now those of you who have ever eaten with us know that we order a lot of food when we go out normally but this was ridiculous. When you finish your veggies, they then bring out these fresh noodles and dump that into the broth. Then after your done with that they make fried rice at your table. We didn't make it to the fried rice. I will say this though, even though we ate like goats, I still didn't have that disgusting full feeling I have back in the states. I think that has to do with the fact that everything I was eating was fresh, not fried, and very few complex carbs.
Anyways, after feasting we headed to the grocery store because Danielle was out of food. As we are walking we're getting the usual looks. Danielle lives in an area that has very few foreigners. She gets looks because she's beautiful and has a small face (small faces are considered the best in Korea). I am getting stared at because I'm black, bald and weigh about 60lbs more then most people. We're used to the stares so we go about our business though, that is until we come upon a young girl and her mother. The girl is holding a balloon and she is so tiny I would never have noticed her had it not been for the balloon floating in front of my head. I look down and see this little creature staring at me. As soon as our eyes meet her eyes get large as she takes me in and then she runs behind her mother holding on tightly. Her mom looks up and me and smiles while chuckling a little bit. The girl stays frozen behind her mother and I point it out to Danielle. Danielle thinks this is funny and we move on. The little girl is very cute by the way and I have a feeling I am the first black person she has seen in her very young life. We continue to shop and about twenty minutes later we turn down an isle where the young girl and her mother are...they are looking at lotion. I am looking for a face scrub and Danielle is looking for chap stick. I purposely don't make eye contact with the little girl but I feel her small almond shaped eyes piercing my backside. I whisper to Danielle that the girl is back. She looks over at her and see that she's taking coverage behind her mother again. I decide to get out of there and at that moment the girl starts to cry like a banshee. Her mom obviously thinks this is hilarious because she starts laughing just as loud. I have yet to see anyone in this country laugh as hard as this mother was laughing. It brought a smile to my face but I still wanted to get away from her daughter. I look over at Danielle and she laughing almost as hard as the mother. So there's two people laughing and one little girl crying. Eventually the mother gave me a slight bow and while still laughing picked up her daughter and walked away. Danielle claims the little girl didn't start crying until she looked at her but I think we both know the truth. I wonder to myself if I was ever afraid of white people when I was two....I doubt it, I grew up in East Lansing, it's full of white people. The only white person I'm afraid of is George W. Bush and that has nothing to do with his color.
When I stay at Danielle's it consist of a two hour subway ride or train ride to get there. It then consist of sleeping on a bed that isn't big enough for her. Remember, Danielle has a small face and a small body. I do not have a small face and I do not have a small body. So I end up sleeping with half my butt hanging off the end of the bed. I thought my bed was the most uncomfortable bed in Korea but I was wrong.
Going back to my city yesterday I realized that I was being pushed around every time the subway doors opened by very old Koreans. They are rough. It's like hockey with no pads and no ice. They just push people out of the way to get to the front. I've been letting this slide since I arrived her because I didnt' want to be disrespectful of the culture but after talking to some of my Korean peeps they informed me I was being stupid. "What culture do you know of Chris where people are allowed to push other people out of the way?" Hmmmmm, good question. They suggested to me that I simply stop allowing myself to be pushed around. I remembered this bit of advice on my way home this time. It was bouncing around the inside of my head as I was getting bounced around the inside of the subway. Finally I had enough. This old women gut checked me as the door opened and then her partner in crime (I think it was her husband) stepped on my foot. I had enough. We ended up transferring to the same sub going to Seoul Station. The old man kept edging me over and over and then I stopped letting him. It really wasn't that hard since I weigh around 200lbs and he could not have weighed more then my arm. I simply stopped moving when he pressed against me. I think it took him a few seconds for it to click in. He was pushing but I had stopped moving. He kept pushing but I didn't move. He continued to push until I flexed my arm he was leaning against. I then must have looked at him the way Arnold Schwarzenegger has stared at so many people right before he smashes them with his fist. I didn't mean to look at him that way but that's what came out of me. The old man back off right away. I'm not proud of this but I was very tired and not in the mood to be pushed around any more. At least I didn't give him some stupid catch phrase.
I decide to take the train from Seoul Station instead of staying on the subway back home. The train has more space normally and you're above ground. Lucky for me the train was not very full at all and I was able to sit down and spread out some....at least for a while. People got on the train at every stop but the was lot's of room to sit. An older man got on at one of the stops and for some reason decided to sit right next to me. There were many open seats and he sat right next to me. This didn't bother me though, like I've said space does not belong to anyone in this country. However, when he started to take off his shoes and then his socks I started to wish he sat somewhere else. When he started to rub his feet and put them way to close to me I really started to wish I had stayed on the subway. I won't describe this mans feet because I don't want the image to be burned in your brains the way it is burned in mine. But lets just say that if this old man was around 70 years old his feet must have been 120 years old. The smell still lingers in my nostrils, any suggestions on how to get rid of that?
That was my Korean weekend.....tears, food, sleeplessness, body checks and smells!
This past weekend I was teaching a class with a teacher from South Africa. We were explaining the rules to this word game we were about to play when we realized none of them spoke any English what so ever. Where I work, the kids come in and stay for one week. It's meant to get them comfortable having conversations with English speaking people so we get schools from all over the country. The cool thing about that is I get to meet a hell of a lot of people. The bad thing is that I never really get to develop a relationship with the kids, not a lasting one anyways. But usually we get kids who have been taking English at their schools for a few years....not this time. For an hour and a half my co teacher and I only heard "yes" and "no". We would ask, "How are you doing?" Answer, "yes". "Where are you from?" Answer, "no".
After my last class on Sunday I went home with Danielle and we ate at a place near her apartment. We ate something called Shabu Shabu which is basically very thinly sliced red meat with a huge place of veggies and some dumplings. The meat is raw and so are the veggies. They bring out a pot of broth and heat it up at the table. They then cut the veggies up and dump them into the bowl. We then take our meat and dip it into the boiling concoction. Because the meat is so thin it cooks in seconds. It's so good but I ordered way too much. Danielle and I knew right away we ordered too much. I think we ordered enough for 4 people. Now those of you who have ever eaten with us know that we order a lot of food when we go out normally but this was ridiculous. When you finish your veggies, they then bring out these fresh noodles and dump that into the broth. Then after your done with that they make fried rice at your table. We didn't make it to the fried rice. I will say this though, even though we ate like goats, I still didn't have that disgusting full feeling I have back in the states. I think that has to do with the fact that everything I was eating was fresh, not fried, and very few complex carbs.
Anyways, after feasting we headed to the grocery store because Danielle was out of food. As we are walking we're getting the usual looks. Danielle lives in an area that has very few foreigners. She gets looks because she's beautiful and has a small face (small faces are considered the best in Korea). I am getting stared at because I'm black, bald and weigh about 60lbs more then most people. We're used to the stares so we go about our business though, that is until we come upon a young girl and her mother. The girl is holding a balloon and she is so tiny I would never have noticed her had it not been for the balloon floating in front of my head. I look down and see this little creature staring at me. As soon as our eyes meet her eyes get large as she takes me in and then she runs behind her mother holding on tightly. Her mom looks up and me and smiles while chuckling a little bit. The girl stays frozen behind her mother and I point it out to Danielle. Danielle thinks this is funny and we move on. The little girl is very cute by the way and I have a feeling I am the first black person she has seen in her very young life. We continue to shop and about twenty minutes later we turn down an isle where the young girl and her mother are...they are looking at lotion. I am looking for a face scrub and Danielle is looking for chap stick. I purposely don't make eye contact with the little girl but I feel her small almond shaped eyes piercing my backside. I whisper to Danielle that the girl is back. She looks over at her and see that she's taking coverage behind her mother again. I decide to get out of there and at that moment the girl starts to cry like a banshee. Her mom obviously thinks this is hilarious because she starts laughing just as loud. I have yet to see anyone in this country laugh as hard as this mother was laughing. It brought a smile to my face but I still wanted to get away from her daughter. I look over at Danielle and she laughing almost as hard as the mother. So there's two people laughing and one little girl crying. Eventually the mother gave me a slight bow and while still laughing picked up her daughter and walked away. Danielle claims the little girl didn't start crying until she looked at her but I think we both know the truth. I wonder to myself if I was ever afraid of white people when I was two....I doubt it, I grew up in East Lansing, it's full of white people. The only white person I'm afraid of is George W. Bush and that has nothing to do with his color.
When I stay at Danielle's it consist of a two hour subway ride or train ride to get there. It then consist of sleeping on a bed that isn't big enough for her. Remember, Danielle has a small face and a small body. I do not have a small face and I do not have a small body. So I end up sleeping with half my butt hanging off the end of the bed. I thought my bed was the most uncomfortable bed in Korea but I was wrong.
Going back to my city yesterday I realized that I was being pushed around every time the subway doors opened by very old Koreans. They are rough. It's like hockey with no pads and no ice. They just push people out of the way to get to the front. I've been letting this slide since I arrived her because I didnt' want to be disrespectful of the culture but after talking to some of my Korean peeps they informed me I was being stupid. "What culture do you know of Chris where people are allowed to push other people out of the way?" Hmmmmm, good question. They suggested to me that I simply stop allowing myself to be pushed around. I remembered this bit of advice on my way home this time. It was bouncing around the inside of my head as I was getting bounced around the inside of the subway. Finally I had enough. This old women gut checked me as the door opened and then her partner in crime (I think it was her husband) stepped on my foot. I had enough. We ended up transferring to the same sub going to Seoul Station. The old man kept edging me over and over and then I stopped letting him. It really wasn't that hard since I weigh around 200lbs and he could not have weighed more then my arm. I simply stopped moving when he pressed against me. I think it took him a few seconds for it to click in. He was pushing but I had stopped moving. He kept pushing but I didn't move. He continued to push until I flexed my arm he was leaning against. I then must have looked at him the way Arnold Schwarzenegger has stared at so many people right before he smashes them with his fist. I didn't mean to look at him that way but that's what came out of me. The old man back off right away. I'm not proud of this but I was very tired and not in the mood to be pushed around any more. At least I didn't give him some stupid catch phrase.
I decide to take the train from Seoul Station instead of staying on the subway back home. The train has more space normally and you're above ground. Lucky for me the train was not very full at all and I was able to sit down and spread out some....at least for a while. People got on the train at every stop but the was lot's of room to sit. An older man got on at one of the stops and for some reason decided to sit right next to me. There were many open seats and he sat right next to me. This didn't bother me though, like I've said space does not belong to anyone in this country. However, when he started to take off his shoes and then his socks I started to wish he sat somewhere else. When he started to rub his feet and put them way to close to me I really started to wish I had stayed on the subway. I won't describe this mans feet because I don't want the image to be burned in your brains the way it is burned in mine. But lets just say that if this old man was around 70 years old his feet must have been 120 years old. The smell still lingers in my nostrils, any suggestions on how to get rid of that?
That was my Korean weekend.....tears, food, sleeplessness, body checks and smells!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Mr. Sandman....
So, I have been having trouble sleeping lately. Actually, I'm not having trouble I just don't sleep lately. I'm a side sleeper and the bed in my room does not allow side sleepers to sleep. I have decided that I need to learn the ways of the back sleeper or the tummy sleeper. How do you people do it? I've tried...it's so unnatural. I feel like Blackula if I sleep on my back. I also can't seem to breath right that way. If I try to sleep on my stomach my neck hurts. Any suggestions that don't involve heavy drugs? I think it's starting to affect my health. I have yet another cold. This one is nothing like the other one which put me on my ass. This one just kind of hangs off to the side making itself known every so often but still having respect for my personal space. The other one didn't respect anything about me. The other played loud music at all hours of the night and threw its trash all over the place. People keep telling me my body is just getting used to all the different viruses out there. I used to think I had a really healthy immune system but I come to Korea and it's like starting all over again. I've decided to visit every single continent on the planet and get sick on each of them. I will build up super immunities to everything. I might not be able to speak foreign languages but my body will be able to fight off foreign viruses. Oh yes, when the final outbreak comes and people are dropping like flies all over the planet Chris will be here. Chris will be right here feeling fine because he thought outside of the box. Ebola you say? Ha! I laugh at you! Already been there and done that!
OK. You see what happens when I don't sleep? I start talking nonsense. I went to the gym this morning and got on the treadmill for a while before working out (yes I work out even when I'm sick). I don't have TV here so I only really watch it when I'm at the gym. Can I just tell you that Korean television is the coolest television in the world. I might not understand what these folks are saying but it's highly entertaining. First of all, every single Korean show is like watching an old school batman episode. They love love love their sound effects. They will even through up words in english sometimes. I was watching this show and this one guy hit this other guy and the word "Bonk" popped up in a red bubble. That's how the Korean do man. They also love limbo. I don't know why and I don't care, but believe me you have not seen good tv until you watch 200 Korean senior citizens do the limbo. You know how we have public access tv back in the states. You'll be flipping though a channel looking for Seinfeld or what have you and then you come across really bad camera work and a dude sitting behind a desk saying or doing really odd stuff. Well that's how all shows are here in Korea. I thought I was watching a news program when all of the sudden this Korean dude with dreadlocks walks onto the screen and starts dancing. The man and women who I thought were talking about the weather get up and start clapping (off beat mind you) and this guys just starts break dancing. Before I knew it I had been on the treadmill for half an hour and I was just trying to warm up for 5 minutes.
Dont' even get me started about the show which stars all mannequin's....that's right, it's a show that stars all mannequin's. ALL MANNEQUIN'S!!!! It's an hour long show. I don't know what it's called and again I don't know what they are saying. All I know is that it's a family of creepy ass looking Mannequins and they speak in Korean. They don't move, the camera just zooms in on their face sometimes and you hear the Korean voice over. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I have watched 40 minutes straight of this show. I can't explain the hold it has on me.
So far Korea for me has been like the TV shows I've seen. I never know what I'm going to get when I go out but it's always entertaining. The people are colorful and they have been very kind to me. Apparently I look like some famous soccer player called Ang Leigh or something like that. He's from France I guess. I have yet to see a picture of him but I'm assuming he's a bald black man. Kids at my school love to yell that at me. They also tell me and other teachers that we have very big eyes. Sometimes when they say this I'll squint and then start to clap. If I wear a T-Shirt it's only a matter of time before I have some student touching the hair on my arms in amazement. Being somewhat of a personal bubble person back in the states I had to get used to this but I'm fine with it now. You kind of have to be fine with touching people to live here. There is no "your" space "my" space here. It's just space and we all use it. I was walking to the store with one of the Korean teachers and she was talking about being sad that her husband hurt his shoulder and he won't be able to snowboard with her this winter. As we were walking I realized we were shoulder to shoulder so I tried to move over some thinking I would give her more space. The more I moved over the more she moved over and then I realized that she was more comfortable being close then being apart. There is something really beautiful about that. I have a lot to learn.
OK. You see what happens when I don't sleep? I start talking nonsense. I went to the gym this morning and got on the treadmill for a while before working out (yes I work out even when I'm sick). I don't have TV here so I only really watch it when I'm at the gym. Can I just tell you that Korean television is the coolest television in the world. I might not understand what these folks are saying but it's highly entertaining. First of all, every single Korean show is like watching an old school batman episode. They love love love their sound effects. They will even through up words in english sometimes. I was watching this show and this one guy hit this other guy and the word "Bonk" popped up in a red bubble. That's how the Korean do man. They also love limbo. I don't know why and I don't care, but believe me you have not seen good tv until you watch 200 Korean senior citizens do the limbo. You know how we have public access tv back in the states. You'll be flipping though a channel looking for Seinfeld or what have you and then you come across really bad camera work and a dude sitting behind a desk saying or doing really odd stuff. Well that's how all shows are here in Korea. I thought I was watching a news program when all of the sudden this Korean dude with dreadlocks walks onto the screen and starts dancing. The man and women who I thought were talking about the weather get up and start clapping (off beat mind you) and this guys just starts break dancing. Before I knew it I had been on the treadmill for half an hour and I was just trying to warm up for 5 minutes.
Dont' even get me started about the show which stars all mannequin's....that's right, it's a show that stars all mannequin's. ALL MANNEQUIN'S!!!! It's an hour long show. I don't know what it's called and again I don't know what they are saying. All I know is that it's a family of creepy ass looking Mannequins and they speak in Korean. They don't move, the camera just zooms in on their face sometimes and you hear the Korean voice over. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I have watched 40 minutes straight of this show. I can't explain the hold it has on me.
So far Korea for me has been like the TV shows I've seen. I never know what I'm going to get when I go out but it's always entertaining. The people are colorful and they have been very kind to me. Apparently I look like some famous soccer player called Ang Leigh or something like that. He's from France I guess. I have yet to see a picture of him but I'm assuming he's a bald black man. Kids at my school love to yell that at me. They also tell me and other teachers that we have very big eyes. Sometimes when they say this I'll squint and then start to clap. If I wear a T-Shirt it's only a matter of time before I have some student touching the hair on my arms in amazement. Being somewhat of a personal bubble person back in the states I had to get used to this but I'm fine with it now. You kind of have to be fine with touching people to live here. There is no "your" space "my" space here. It's just space and we all use it. I was walking to the store with one of the Korean teachers and she was talking about being sad that her husband hurt his shoulder and he won't be able to snowboard with her this winter. As we were walking I realized we were shoulder to shoulder so I tried to move over some thinking I would give her more space. The more I moved over the more she moved over and then I realized that she was more comfortable being close then being apart. There is something really beautiful about that. I have a lot to learn.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Thoughts
OK, I promise this blog will not be about food. However, I talked to some of my new Korean buddies and they informed me that although dogs are eaten it is very rare that the dogs are tortured and abused. That only happens in old school places. Just wanted to clear that up. Also, I just realized and I don't mean just (today) that after you read my blogs you have the option of commenting. I did not know this and I just read the comments of those that have taken that option. Thank you very much for your responses. Now that I know someone is actually reading this thing I will try harder to spell my words correctly and be more artistic in my descriptions....yeah that's not going to happen. Like some of you have said I just kind of right the way I write. I put it all out there and some times it makes sense and sometimes it doesn't.
If you want to read about Korea and personal experiences which you will find beautiful, artistic, magical and wonderfully written I would suggest you email Danielle and ask to be put on her mailing list. She is the writer. She is an amazing writer. She paints a beautiful picture and takes you for a sense driven ride with her lovely fingers and her not so lovely brand new laptop (It overheats a lot and shuts off on it's own...did I mention it's brand new?) Yeah Danielle has a gift for them words! I'm more like a person with a bullhorn. I yell things loudly (in this case I type and when I do I press my keys very hard). I talk about what I see and how I feel about what I see. I talk about how I feel and how what I feel affects my life and my experiences. The thing is I really like the way I write. I like that sometimes I write this blog and tell jokes that only I will laugh at. I've said this before but keeping a blog, especially in a situation like this is very therapeutic for me.
Speaking of this situation. I really like Korea. Actually I'm not sure if I really like Korea or if I really like not knowing any body and being a stranger in a not so strange land. Korea really isn't that strange....at least no stranger then the US. I find that I am laughing a lot here. I smile a lot here and I don't feel tense like I used to. It's not the job. I work way more hours then I did in my previous job (which towards the end of my employment was not that many). The work seems to go very fast her though. I'll put in ten or eleven hours but they are hours that don't feel like a waste of time. I enjoy working with these kids. They actually want to learn (most of the time). Even the so called "bad kids" here still want to learn. By the way, bad kids over here would not even show up on the radar in the United States. I mean, I have worked some jobs back home where kids were planning how to cut my throat (true story). OK, I have a dilemma here. Do I continue along this thought process with kids in Korea or do I take a little break and tell you about the time I foiled a plot to kill me at one of my jobs???? Hmmmmmm. OK, I'll make the story quick.
So about five or six years ago when I arrived in Portland I worked at a place which housed "dangerous" youths. These youths were not really dangerous most of the time. The were just....damaged in some way. They came from horrible families and horrible situations. I mean really bad situations. The kind of situations that rob people of their childhoods and replace them with recurring nightmares. The place I got a job at would take in kids from the state hospital normally and access them to see if they could "return to the community", needed further help in a group or foster home, or needed to go back to the state hospital. Some of the decisions made at this workplace still haunt me. I'm not one to take pills. I don't know why I just don't like them...so tiny and so powerful (not in a good way). I don't even like anything for a headache. But this place was doping up kids left and right. Hard stuff too. Powerful drugs that change the way a person behaves. Drugs that change the way a body feels and connects with itself. Anyways, I had been at this job for about a year and a half when we got in a couple of white skin heads (and not the old school, good skin heads, I'm talking about the Hitler versions). These guys were very angry and very damaged. I think the older one was 15 and the younger one was 13. So right away I knew I was in for a good time.
The thing I like about kids though is that they are trying to figure out who they are. That's why I have more patience with kids then I do with adults. I need to work on that I have patience with everybody, including myself. But I'm getting off track here. Anyways, these kids came in and were spouting their beliefs and showing off their war wounds (both had burned several swasticas into their flesh with the tip of an eraser). Did I mention the place I worked at had saferooms and was a lock down facility? This means that the "clients" could not go outside and could not leave the facility. All the doors were locked and it was 24 hour surveillance. The saferooms were where kids were put if they became a danger to themselves or others on the unit. At least that's what we were told they were for. I found that sometimes kids would end up there if certain staff members just didn't like them. Power has a way of turning people who are supposed help others into complete assholes! The funny thing about these guys is that the other staff members who were all white treated them like shit. I mean, they were treated like scum. Sure they tossed around the word nigger a few times but all in all they didn't cause much trouble on the unit...or rather no more trouble then other "clients". But the other staff members wanted these guys gone (now that I think about it, I'm sure it had something to do with white guilt and all) These boys called me a nigger one time. They said it more then that but they called me a nigger once. It was the first day they were there and I walked onto the unit and they looked at each other and said something to me. I remember thinking to myself that it had been a real long time since anyone had called me a nigger to my face. I also remember thinking the word didn't affect me the way it used to. Had I been 16 or even 19 I'm sure my reaction would have been....different. I just looked at them and said, "we don't use words like that on this unit boys". Over the next couple of weeks I ended up having several conversations with the older boy and he would request I play cards with him before he went to bed during my shift. One night, he asked me what I thought about his swastica and I told him I thought it looked infected. He laughed and so did I. After the card game he stood up to go to his room and stopped half way. He turned around and asked me how come I never sent him or his buddy to the saferoom. I told him that they never did anything that I considered saferoom worthy(other staff members had put them in the saferoom several times). He laughed again and then motioned for me to come to his door. Once I got there he said he had something to give me. He lifted up his mattress and there lay a very thin and very jagged piece of plastic. It was about the size or a ruler and was in the shape of a blade. He told me it had been under there since his third day on the unit but he had decided not to try and "cut my throat" over a week ago. He said it just like that. I smiled a little and took the home-made knife. He didn't apologize and I didn't need an apology. His decision not to try and kill me was good enough.
Anyways, back to these Korean kids. The "worst" thing a kid has done here is smoke in the bathroom. I've worked some places where smoking was a reward for good behavior. Yeah, I like it here. I feel like this place (Korea, not my work) is allowing me to discover more of who I am. That protective wall I built up and fortified isn't very necessary over here. I feel like I can breath over here. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what I want to do with my life. I'm pretty sure it needs to involve travel. I don't think I want to be a teacher but I wouldn't mind working with kids in some capacity. I used to think I had to be rich in order to be happy and do the things I wanted to do but I'm starting to realize that's not true. I think we all know I have no money what so ever, but I'm happy and I'm traveling around the world meeting interesting folks. I am learning from the experiences of others. I am starting to learn a new language. I have a partnership with an amazing, smart, beautiful, strong person. And, I'm learning more and more about myself with each passing day. Life aint so bad!
Speaking of this situation. I really like Korea. Actually I'm not sure if I really like Korea or if I really like not knowing any body and being a stranger in a not so strange land. Korea really isn't that strange....at least no stranger then the US. I find that I am laughing a lot here. I smile a lot here and I don't feel tense like I used to. It's not the job. I work way more hours then I did in my previous job (which towards the end of my employment was not that many). The work seems to go very fast her though. I'll put in ten or eleven hours but they are hours that don't feel like a waste of time. I enjoy working with these kids. They actually want to learn (most of the time). Even the so called "bad kids" here still want to learn. By the way, bad kids over here would not even show up on the radar in the United States. I mean, I have worked some jobs back home where kids were planning how to cut my throat (true story). OK, I have a dilemma here. Do I continue along this thought process with kids in Korea or do I take a little break and tell you about the time I foiled a plot to kill me at one of my jobs???? Hmmmmmm. OK, I'll make the story quick.
So about five or six years ago when I arrived in Portland I worked at a place which housed "dangerous" youths. These youths were not really dangerous most of the time. The were just....damaged in some way. They came from horrible families and horrible situations. I mean really bad situations. The kind of situations that rob people of their childhoods and replace them with recurring nightmares. The place I got a job at would take in kids from the state hospital normally and access them to see if they could "return to the community", needed further help in a group or foster home, or needed to go back to the state hospital. Some of the decisions made at this workplace still haunt me. I'm not one to take pills. I don't know why I just don't like them...so tiny and so powerful (not in a good way). I don't even like anything for a headache. But this place was doping up kids left and right. Hard stuff too. Powerful drugs that change the way a person behaves. Drugs that change the way a body feels and connects with itself. Anyways, I had been at this job for about a year and a half when we got in a couple of white skin heads (and not the old school, good skin heads, I'm talking about the Hitler versions). These guys were very angry and very damaged. I think the older one was 15 and the younger one was 13. So right away I knew I was in for a good time.
The thing I like about kids though is that they are trying to figure out who they are. That's why I have more patience with kids then I do with adults. I need to work on that I have patience with everybody, including myself. But I'm getting off track here. Anyways, these kids came in and were spouting their beliefs and showing off their war wounds (both had burned several swasticas into their flesh with the tip of an eraser). Did I mention the place I worked at had saferooms and was a lock down facility? This means that the "clients" could not go outside and could not leave the facility. All the doors were locked and it was 24 hour surveillance. The saferooms were where kids were put if they became a danger to themselves or others on the unit. At least that's what we were told they were for. I found that sometimes kids would end up there if certain staff members just didn't like them. Power has a way of turning people who are supposed help others into complete assholes! The funny thing about these guys is that the other staff members who were all white treated them like shit. I mean, they were treated like scum. Sure they tossed around the word nigger a few times but all in all they didn't cause much trouble on the unit...or rather no more trouble then other "clients". But the other staff members wanted these guys gone (now that I think about it, I'm sure it had something to do with white guilt and all) These boys called me a nigger one time. They said it more then that but they called me a nigger once. It was the first day they were there and I walked onto the unit and they looked at each other and said something to me. I remember thinking to myself that it had been a real long time since anyone had called me a nigger to my face. I also remember thinking the word didn't affect me the way it used to. Had I been 16 or even 19 I'm sure my reaction would have been....different. I just looked at them and said, "we don't use words like that on this unit boys". Over the next couple of weeks I ended up having several conversations with the older boy and he would request I play cards with him before he went to bed during my shift. One night, he asked me what I thought about his swastica and I told him I thought it looked infected. He laughed and so did I. After the card game he stood up to go to his room and stopped half way. He turned around and asked me how come I never sent him or his buddy to the saferoom. I told him that they never did anything that I considered saferoom worthy(other staff members had put them in the saferoom several times). He laughed again and then motioned for me to come to his door. Once I got there he said he had something to give me. He lifted up his mattress and there lay a very thin and very jagged piece of plastic. It was about the size or a ruler and was in the shape of a blade. He told me it had been under there since his third day on the unit but he had decided not to try and "cut my throat" over a week ago. He said it just like that. I smiled a little and took the home-made knife. He didn't apologize and I didn't need an apology. His decision not to try and kill me was good enough.
Anyways, back to these Korean kids. The "worst" thing a kid has done here is smoke in the bathroom. I've worked some places where smoking was a reward for good behavior. Yeah, I like it here. I feel like this place (Korea, not my work) is allowing me to discover more of who I am. That protective wall I built up and fortified isn't very necessary over here. I feel like I can breath over here. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what I want to do with my life. I'm pretty sure it needs to involve travel. I don't think I want to be a teacher but I wouldn't mind working with kids in some capacity. I used to think I had to be rich in order to be happy and do the things I wanted to do but I'm starting to realize that's not true. I think we all know I have no money what so ever, but I'm happy and I'm traveling around the world meeting interesting folks. I am learning from the experiences of others. I am starting to learn a new language. I have a partnership with an amazing, smart, beautiful, strong person. And, I'm learning more and more about myself with each passing day. Life aint so bad!
e
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