Category Archives: Travel

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Korea, Travel

Military Good-byes

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: My son’s 88 on the Osan golf course. Seoah. Their golf. Murdoch. Rodeo. The money funnel of Korean businesses right across the street from Osan Air Base. The Plaque Shop. That Philly cheese-steak spot. The Blue Opera. The sim card guy. Lifting the bollards. The Galbi place where my son, Seoah, Kate, and I ate in 2016. A general air of sleaziness. One spot with a sign: No Koreans.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: lunch with my son

One brief shining: Songtan streets (ro) filled with small businesses, no chain stores that I’ve seen, a  mechanics place with car lifts and old tires out front next to a grilled fish joint, the occasional shiny store selling phones, a coffee shop, a plant store, taxis and delivery guys, folks coming home from work on the streets, us slower folks walking the sidewalks where they exist, otherwise dodging in and out of traffic along with the vehicles.

 

The military takes good-byes seriously. There are going away dinners. Plaques get made. Even an entire photograph and position title sign taken down and framed. My son also had a banner made with his senior enlisted, Master Sergeant Rocket’s seven call signs. It fits on a stanchion. A challenge coin, too.

The Plaque store in the Rodeo has a plaque for every occasion. And specializes in personalization. There are window boxes with swords, models of various planes, maps of Korea, clocks, animals like tigers and cobras. A whole counter full of patches made into metal. A thriving business. The proprietoress found my son’s order, gave him a well used receipt book to sign, flipping through pages and pages of orders, finding his.

We stopped into the sim card store where my son paid his monthly bill for South Korea telecom. He went on to another store while I took photographs. One door read Welcome Thirsty People. Another place, the Blue Opera had gargoyles and other strange animals as part of an elaborate sign. Seemed to be an open air coffee shop. Couldn’t make out why the name or the sign made sense.

When my son came back, we went down a narrow street to a hole in the wall joint with booths and walls made of plywood varnished and polyurethaned, very basic. A short Korean man with a white paper fry cook’s hat took our orders, One with jalapenos no onions, one with onions no jalapenos? Yes. A bit later a hot Philly cheese steak and some fries. It was so nice to have lunch with my boy.

He and Seoah later went to the golf course on base to play 18 holes. I stayed home this time, fed Murdoch, read. Watched some TV. Resting my sore hip. Gonna see a doc today if Seoah can get me an appointment. The hip has begun to get in the way of sight seeing. Some temporary solution, I hope. See Kristin when I get home if it’s still a problem.

Want to find some way to deal with it since I go to Israel less than a month after I get back from Korea.

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Korea, Travel, Weather +Climate, World History

Seoul Time

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Monday gratefuls: Being in Monday, not Sunday. The Fish Market. Daniel. Diane. Seoah. My son. Sejong the Great. Inventor of Hangul. The Korean George Washington. His palace. The cultural and arts district around it. Yongsan, the heart of Seoul. Seoul. My son’s friends. Heat and humidity. Snow in the forecast for Conifer. Jon, may his memory be for a blessing. Kate, whose memory is a blessing.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seoul, Korean megalopolis

One brief shining: The fish monger gaffed the sea bream and handed the gaff’s wooden handle to me so I could hold the fish as if I’d caught it instead of bought it, then he gaffed the other, whose name I’ve forgotten and gave it to my son and me to hold together, later in the restaurant above the market these two fish appeared as Korean cut sashimi and a soup made from their heads and the bones.

 

Yesterday we boarded the number 1 blue line at Songtan station and took the hour and forty-five minute ride into Seoul. Called a subway it was light rail on this route. We rode past clusters of apartment buildings, a few single houses, and the now routine rice paddies and thick plastic sheeting covered half moon long garden tents filled with vegetables.

All the way from Songtan the density of the housing remains high, the countryside far away in this populous urban corridor that extends to the south as well toward Daejong. Korea has a population of 51 million plus in an area the size of the state of Indiana. Over one-fifth of those live in Seoul.

Almost done with the novel Soil by Yi Kwang-Su written in 1932. Compared to Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle it focuses on the plight of Korean farmers who made up 80% of the population but lived lives poor, miserable, and short essentially as serfs or tenant farmers for the wealthy who lived in Seoul. The ratio of Seoul’s population to the rest of Korea remains about the same.

Seoul is the cultural and political and economic heart of the country as it has been since the time of Sejong the Great in 1395. On a main thoroughfare which runs past Seoul city hall a bronze seated Sejong looks on modern traffic headed towards his palace grounds. The city hall  has two buildings, one built by the Japanese during their long occupation in the 20th century and the other an uber modern building by Korean architect Yoo Kerl.

The fish market. The Noryagin Fish Market has its own subway stop which was our destination. We came up from the tracks and onto a bright day, young Koreans in blue uniforms playing baseball just outside the subway’s door.

On the inside hawkers of various levels of intensity try to interest you in the various sea creatures on offer. Sea squirts. Sea urchins. Whelks. Mollusks of various kinds. Shrimp. Prawns. Eels. Many, many varieties of Fish. Large aquariums held Squid and Crabs, some trying to wander off.  Though its floor had water on it and the air high humidity the market did not smell fishy to me.

When we sat down to eat in the restaurant on the fifth floor of the market, I looked up and saw: Trump World. A big two tower building across the freeway from where we sat. Diane told me that the area we could see out the window was Korea’s Wall Street, so I suppose Trump Tower fit in as a monument  to financial malfeasance.

Daniel and Diane then took us in their KIA SUV across the Han River into Yongsan, the central downtown of Seoul. Past it we found Sejong the Great’s palace and folklore museum. Unfortunately it was hot, humid, and my hip had begun to get sore so we didn’t stay as long as I might have wanted though I think we stayed longer than anybody else wanted.

Built in 1395 and destroyed in the 19th century (I don’t recall  how), it was rebuilt in 1885 I think. Massive. The architecture of power and status.

Asia, Cooking, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Mountains, Plants, Travel, Weather +Climate

Mountains in the Cities

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Saturday gratefuls: A whole Chicken and Rice for each of us. Onions. Peppers. Pickled Peppers. Kimchi. Radish in squares. Side dishes. Dates. Mushrooms. Dinner last night in downtown Songtan. Screen golf. My son’s drives. Seoah calling  herself Bunker Woman after several sand traps. Walking in the Woods on the small Mountain behind Seoah and my son’s apartment building.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son and Seoah’s relationship. Playful.

One brief shining: Black ceramic bowls with a whole Chicken, Rice underneath, Mushrooms and Dates in the soup, white bowls of pickled Radish, Cabbage, Peppers, Sliced Onions, and Green Peppers, cold Water in a jug, metal chopsticks and the long Korean spoon, a meal with my son and Seoah in neon intensive downtown Songtan on a Friday night.

 

Songtan, as most Korean cities and towns, has Mountains within its borders. Reminds me of the  Twin Cities with Lakes inside the city limits. Many not more than high Hills at this point in their geological journey, yet Forested and with changing altitudes.

Behind Posco the  Sharp’s building 111 where my son and Seoah live on the 12th floor a small Mountain rises. Walking trails covered with soft Vegetal mats, workout equipment at various sites, this Mountain goes up from building 111 and peaks, then descends to a small commercial area maybe 10 blocks away.

Murdoch goes on daily walks with his people there. Yesterday morning around 9 am the trails had many older Koreans out walking, using the workout equipment. Some swung side to side, some  hung on metal rings, others stretched their bodies while others turned a large wheel one way then the other or used a simple elliptical.

I walked for thirty minutes up one side of the Mountain down the other and back again. Worked up a sweat in the humid warming air. A prized amenity to have so close to their apartment.

Later in the day I went with my son and Seoah to screen golf. For $35 dollars they rented a room for three hours. Along the back wall was a large screen which had the ability to not only project various golf courses and their holes but to show the trajectory of a drive, the path of an iron shot, bunkers, roughs, water hazards. It could also show an instant video of your last swing, keep score, tell you the amount of backspin and side spin on your ball, where the ball struck your club face.

They played 18 holes. My son shot a 94. Seoah, who prefers outdoors golf, did less well. I had fun watching them, seeing them applaud each others good shots, help each other with kind advice, be with each other. My son chipped in on one shot and we all got up and high fived  him.

After returning to the apartment to feed and walk Murdoch, we set out again, this time on foot to downtown Songtan which is only ten minutes or so from the apartment.

Seoah had a found a place that met her two key criteria: first, clean. Second, delicious. We walked through narrow, most often sidewalkless streets, cars going around us, delivery motorcycles weaving in and out, the traditional Asian exuberance of neon signage. Past coffee shops, clothing stores, many different kinds of restaurants, a small traditional grocery where they made rice cakes, sesame cakes, and other delicacies on site. Clubs. Bars advertising soju (a Korean vodka and a favorite beverage) and beer. Fried chicken places.

Lively and interesting.

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Jefferson County, Korea, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Plants, Travel, Weather +Climate, World History

Softball, Korea News

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: Labor Day weekend. My son has Friday and Monday off. The Minnesota State Fair. A not so faded remnant of the Lughnasa festivals of the old Gaeltacht. A Minnesota Fall. Brilliant colors, blue Waters, trips up North. A Rocky Mountain Fall. Aspens gold against Lodgepole Green on Black Mountain. Clear cool Skies. A Korean Fall. Will find out.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seasons

One brief shining: My son came home last night in a bright t-shirt with Aladdin 02 on the back and a Cobra on the front his left arm bruised at the bicep after he threw a pitch and a hard hit soft ball came right back to him full of joy at playing and having an injury.

 

My son plays on his squadron’s soft ball team. The Cobra signifies their squadron. His first time up a few weeks ago he hit a homer. Now he’s hooked for the season. He’s an athlete, has been since middle school. Cross country in the fall. Ski racing in the winter and track in the spring. High school. He also raced on the UofM’s ski team.

He and Seoah both have the athletic gene, now expressed most often in workouts and golf every weekend. Makes dad glad. Ha. Good for health and for their marriage.

 

Used the apartment’s gym again yesterday. Feel better already. More limber and a regular dose of endorphins. The same three buff middle-aged Korean women were in the weight room. Seemed like chatting had as much to do with their reason for being there as the weight machines.

Noticed, again, that I tilt to the left. Scoliosis. Polio. Beginning to have some soreness in my right hip and lower back. Not often, not always. Usually after a lot of time on my feet.

Still not sure how it will affect my stamina when I get into serious sight-seeing. May be limited to mornings. Maybe less than that. Or, maybe rest at intervals will be enough. I’m sure to find out this weekend since we’re going to Seoul for the first time.

 

Big news here. War games held for both North and South Korea. Every year a war game called Freedom Shield unites South Korean and U.S. militaries in a display of force designed as a response to a hypothetical North Korean invasion. Such exercises enhance the ability of two command structures to blend when faced with actual conflict.

North Korea launched an unsuccessful spy satellite last Wednesday in response. Then two more short range ballistic missiles this week. Today North Korea announced military exercises simulating the occupation of all of South Korea. Tit for tat.

This annual saber rattling makes both sides a bit nervous, jumpy. My son has had some extra work as a result.

On the streets of Songtan this causes no reaction whatsoever as near I can tell. The taxis pick up passengers. Folks go into the coffee shops. Buy meals in restaurants. It’s not that people don’t care. All Koreans want unification. Just not through military means. It’s more that the specter of war hangs so heavy here that it has become a backdrop to daily life. Not ignored, but not engaged daily.

Sort of like having cancer it just occurred to me. You can’t pretend it’s not there. And, yes, it could kill you. But, if it occupies your heart/mind all the time  you give up life. Which doesn’t make sense. So  you make an uneasy peace and go on about your day.

Asia, Cooking, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Korea, Travel, Weather +Climate

A Babette’s Feast of Sushi

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: The gym. A workout. Rain. Typhoon Haikui. Sushi place. Lunch with Seoah. Tripping the circuit breaker. Murdoch. Soil, a classic Korean novel. Kate, always Kate. Jon, a memory. The USAF. Osan AFB. Sim cards. Smart phones. Computers. Zoom across the waters. From Songtan to downeast Maine.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Humid Korea

One brief shining: That lunch with Seoah yesterday first came miso soup, kimchi, pickled onions, water cress, seaweed packages, creamed corn (I know.), then udon noodles in soup, after that a large serving platter of sashimi, beautiful fresh Salmon, Tuna, translucent Fish, a buttery cut, all thicker than U.S. sashimi slices, later tempura a sushi roll and a dish of Fish entrails.

 

This was the Babette’s Feast of sushi. The food kept coming on the little serving trolley. The smiling waitress unruffled as she sat down dish after dish. I quit before the sushi roll and the Fish entrails. Full. Seoah ate on. Not much in the way of carbs, mostly protein and vegetables.

The restaurant had a second story perch over the same ro (street) on which Seaoh and my son’s apartment building sits. A delightful time with Seoah talking and eating, sharing. Making more memories together. Due to rain we took a cab both ways, oddly the same cab driver both ways.

 

Got back to workout routine. Treadmill and resistance. In a room of eight treadmills I had one to myself until a Korean man came and chose the one right next to me. An American would have chosen one in the rank of treadmills facing the other direction. We ran together for a bit.

In the weight room were three buff middle-aged Korean women and an older Korean man. I felt slightly self-conscious as the only old guy, only white guy, and the only one lifting lighter weights. Got over it. I know my weight lifting, my lower body work with the exercise ball, planks. Did shoulder presses, chest presses, concentration curls, flys, crunches, plank, dips, and squats.

Felt good to get back in the gym. My body had been feeling sore and I am demonstrably weak. I can cure most of that with regular gym time here and back home. Our bodies are meant to move.

 

Jet lag is in the past. Normal bed time. Up at 5:30-5:45. Joe gets up around the same time. He checks up on baseball, other sports. We talk a bit. He gets ready and leaves between 7 and 7:30 in desert camo with the oak cluster of a Lt. Col. prominent. Sand colored boots.

 

It’s the end of the rainy season here but typhoon Haikui has pumped up the cloud systems, sending more and more water over Seoul, Osan, and most of South Korea. The Mountains on the way to Okgwa and Gwangu over the weekend looked like Jungles with Vines overgrowing road signs, Trees green and healthy and numerous.

Looking forward to the cooler and drier weather of September. Cool back home, I noticed.

 

Family, Feelings, Korea, Travel

Songtan. Its streets. Korea.

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Songtan. Rain. Lots of rain. A walk. Buying Vitamin D3 and a green tea latte with the aid of my translation app. Signing up for the gym in the apartment complex. 28,000 Won. My son playing video games he found in moving. Old ones. Having a great time. Seoah and I have a sushi brunch date today. Sleep normal. Good. My own desk and chair in my room here.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Korea

One brief shining: Pressed my index finger into the scanner with the apartment complex manager softly touching it, went into the gym area, put my finger on the scanner and got an X, back out to try my thumb, again a soft pressure from the manager, again to the scanner, X, only to learn that sometimes old people’s fingerprints are too weak.

 

Oddly disappointed that my fingerprints were too weak. Considering it later I think it might be years of grasping and gripping, typing polishing the whorls and curlicues, losing definitive ridges. Reminded me of my mortgage banker Valerie who was one of a rare group of people who have no fingerprints at all. Valerie would always get X’s.

The gym is a good one. Six high quality treadmills in their own room. A weight room with machines and free weights. A room with mats and exercise balls. May get down there before my brunch with Seoah. If not, I’ll for sure start tomorrow.

 

Took a walk yesterday down a street used by locals, lots of coffee shops, drug stores, small restaurants, an occasional clothing store. When I stopped in one of the drug stores, I typed Vitamin D3 into my app and showed it to the clerk. Ah. She said. And went to get the pharmacist. Who found it and asked me if it was for an adult? Yes. Pricey. 23,000 Won. $17.

At the Paris Baguette I met the limits of the translation app. The young Korean girl, masked, read my order, nodded and asked me a question. Well now… A bit of back and forth. Finally figured out she wanted to know if I wanted only one. Made me wish I’d been more diligent with my Duo Korean.

I backed away from it after realizing I’d been doing it wrong from the start. And, I was pretty far along before I realized it. I learned Hangul. I learned words and phrases, could distinguish the spoken words. But I had neglected to pronounce the words as I learned them. Turns out in the real world of Songtan, being able to speak it is the most important skill. Being able to read, much less so.

Hope I can leverage my immersion here, Seoah, and Duo itself to recapture some of the gains I made and add to them pronunciation.

 

Korea, like all nations, has a complexity and sophistication difficult for a foreigner to see. Of course the language. Of course the bowing. But the knowledge of the  land, how to make it productive. The weight and possibilities offered by a long history, still shaping Korean life. Those Confucian virtues rippling down through time. The military victories and losses. The time of the hermit kingdom. Now a nation intertwined with great power conflicts between the US and China. Isolation no longer a possibility. The role of women. A fight back as contemporary women refuse to marry and bear children.

Still learning. So much fun.

 

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Korea, Travel

A Daughter is Stolen from her Mother

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Monday (across the date line) gratefuls: Mary’s birthday! Shaking off the body’s desire to still be in Colorado. Back home in Songtan. Everybody happy to be here. Most of all Murdoch. Warm and humid. 96%! Not the arid U.S. West. Korean fried chicken for dinner last night. Watermelon from Okgwa, Seoah’s parent’s grown. Being here. Faraway, yet with those closest to me.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My little family

One brief shining: At the table we’d sat around in Warner Robbins, Georgia, on Hickam AFB in Hawai’i, now in Songtan, Korea my son, Seoah,  and I ate fried chicken, drank water and chatted about tours we could take in the land of the morning calm.

 

Daughters are stolen from their mothers. Seoah repeated this bit of Korean folk wisdom to me as her mother stuffed watermelons, long beans, an Instant Pot, a blender, a mystery appliance, and other items into various bags before we headed back to Songtan. This sudden efflorescence of baggage required Joe to remove the golf clubs, stow the cargo cover, and arrange everything carefully.

Appa and Umma watched as did Seoah’s youngest sister and her daughter. Appah went into his machine shed and gathered some cold bottled water for all three of us. He gave everyone a hug, smiled. Seoah’s younger sister prodded her daughter who came over and gave me a delightful hug. A loving and familiar sendoff after a family visit to the farm.

 

Korea is a land of low Mountains covered by deciduous Trees, vines, and in obvious open spaces the mounded graves and grave markers important to this still Confucian inflected culture. It reminded me a bit of the Smokies. Except no signs for boiled peanuts, no Confederate battle flags. The journey from Okgwa to Songtan took us through many, many tunnels. At least twenty, perhaps more.

Most of the traffic control on the highways involves photo enforcement and various, often odd, reminders. Like the occasional actual rear end of a police car with a speed limit sign attached. Or, also a speed limit sign, but a police mannequin below watching the traffic. At regular intervals there are flashing blue and red lights like those on a stopped police car. A subliminal message? Not sure.

Unlike Korean urban drivers these highway drivers were sedate and orderly for the most part. Very few angry speeders or the dimwit who weaves in and out to gain a few seconds advantage. Urban drivers here, at least according to Joe, are unpredictable and erratic. I’ve not witnessed this myself.

 

Today or tomorrow I’ll start exercising again. Gotta do more resistance work. My back is sore and I’m weaker than I like. Feels good to be on vacation with my home duties signed off to Vince and Luke, bills paid, and money in the bank f0r the trip. Also to be in a country as far away my own culture as Korea.

A traveler can focus on the similarities or the differences between their home culture and the place they have traveled to. Neither focus gives a true picture of a cohesive culture, an intricate web of customs, assumptions, language, location, ethnicity, history, and ambition.

Glad to be here long enough for immersion.

 

Family, Korea, Memories, Travel

A Birthday Party

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Seoah’s mom and her 70th birthday party. In Gwangju. Her dad, a sweet guy. Her two sisters and her brother. Outback Steakhouse. The three hour drive from Songtan to her small village outside Okgwa. Highway rest stops along the way. The verdant, overgrown Mountains. The Rivers. Those grave sites high on the Mountain sites. Seoah’s memories. Swimming in the River. Playing in the Mountains. School. My son’s careful, steady driving.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Being able to translate the Hangul (mostly)

One brief shining: My poor jet lagged body kept me in a purple haze for most of the trip to Seoah’s parents I saw the passing countryside, the blue tiled roofs, the goofy speed signs with a mannequin policeman, listened to Seoah’s commentary, but not much made it past the veil.

 

We arrived in Okgwa after a long and congested trip on various Korean highways. Her brother had built her parents a brand new home, mostly concrete, stylish inside with an all white interior, polished floors, marble kitchen surfaces, in room mini-splits, and designed lighting. Kate and I saw the old house so I could see the contrast. Huge.

Four bedrooms so the family could stay for holidays or just because. One bedroom was the one he always uses when he visits. He lives in Osan as do Joe and Seoah. Knowing I was recently arrived and an elder, he gave up that room to me and slept last night on the floor with two of Seoah’s nephews. Not as onerous as it might sound since sleeping on the floor is still common in Korea. Joe, Seoah, and Murdoch found their room.

At 5:40 we drove to Gwangu, about 30 minutes away, and found the Outback Steak House. A much different experience than in the U.S. It had high stairs on both sides leading to an entrance on a balcony. Seoah’s oldest sister showed me the way.

The sisters had a clever idea. In a cake shaped object with decorations there was a card. When Seoah’s mom took out the card to read it, it caused a ribbon of 5000 Won notes to pull out. $1,500 worth. Her grandchildren gathered around her, her husband read the card to her, and behind the two of them was banner with an early picture of them as a couple and congratulatory statements.

The original plan was for all to go to a karaoke place. OMG! Someone said no. Instead we all drove back to the new house and had an after party. Seoah’s youngest sister, her husband, and her three kids stayed the night. In the morning Seoah’s mom made a traditional Korean breakfast for all. Tofu soup. Rice. Bulgogi. Kimchi. Bean sprouts. Egg pancakes. Quail eggs and mushrooms. Delicious.

The drive back. Much less eventful. We got back. Tired. But with another family memory in place.

 

Asia, Family, Travel

On the Ground, far from home

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: A safe but long flight. Two smiling happy humans greeting me in the Incheon Airport. Driving through streets with signs in Hangul. Lots of Koreans around here. The view from my son and Seoah’s apartment. Loss of a whole day. Time. Eh? Where did it go? Murdoch the happy. Being on the road again.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Lift

One brief shining: That moment when the landing gear whines as this heavy, heavy object filled with human lives including mine breaks free of the planet’s surface and soars into the air much more clumsy than a bird but sufficient to its task.

 

Three or four movies, one Jack Reacher novel, a few hours of fitful sleep and voila! Asia. Korea. Incheon. My son and Seoah. Songtan bus. Walk a bit. To their apartment building. Seojong bu-ro 99. Up 12 floors. The journey was over. The destination achieved.

Next morning now. Thursday disappeared somewhere in the air over Vladivostok. So Friday morning. Looking out over a Korean Sky filled with puffy Cumulus and an overhang of gray. In the distance apartment buildings literally as far as I can see. Back in the direction of the Seoul. I think.

Korean buildings in this area, larger Osan, have some soot and a palette that varies from muted white through muted greens and pinks. Some old style tile roofs but most are gone. Replaced by much less beautiful modernist works. Blocky and unimaginative. But easier to build.

The general impression. A bit tired, used, yet still useful.

Tried to use the microwave. All in Hangul. Which I can parse, but I don’t know the words. Couldn’t figure it out. Ate cold chicken. Seoah showed me when she got back from walking Murdoch.

 

Traveling has displacement as its objective. Not only the physical body, but also the mind, the soul, the everything that makes home home. All left behind, displaced by a new place, other peoples homes. This is truest when going to a country not only far away but far from the assumptions of home. Asia, for example, when reached by an  American soul.

Here the language does not conform to an American’s eye, nor do the faces and habitus of the people. Epicanthic folds. A skin color, definitely not yellow, a lighter tan perhaps also not familiar. Shuffling, hurrying, moving on paths known to them but mysterious to me. Yet all  human, most likely thinking about grocery lists, family squabbles, work that needs to get done.

Three workmen have come in to replace the stove. All ready, tools in the inevitable plastic bucket and toolbox. The smaller guy seems to know the work. He’s engaged now turning screws. One guy watches, the other cleans the sink!

 

About time for a nap. Still tired from the journey even after 12 hours of sleep. Where part of Thursday went. Mostly settling in, learning the Korean way of refuse. Particular bags for fruit, general waste. Separate bins for plastic and cardboard.

 

Feelings, Korea, Travel

The last day before leaving

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Colorado almost in the rearview. All details accounted for. Save two. Boarding pass and mail hold. Will solve this morning. All those gifts somewhere between here and Korea. Korea. My son and Seoah and Murdoch. Can’t wait to hug them. Ruth getting out today or tomorrow. The play pics. Glad that’s put to bed. A vacant feeling.  Some anxiety. The usual amount for heading into unknowns with airlines and airports.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The ability to cross oceans quickly

One brief shining: Vince will have my back for house related matters coming at least once a week to run all the taps and flush all the toilets, cut down a few dead trees, fix that damned toilet seat downstairs as well as the strip between the tile and the laminate, clean all the mini-split filters, maybe install a few shelves in my kitchen cabinets.

 

I would be finished except for the Post Office’s 30 day hold rule and an unreceived boarding pass. I have to fill out and return two hold forms one for thirty days and one for six. The nice guy with the gray ponytail said that should cover it. Done but I have to take them there after I have my last Aspen Perk’s breakfast for awhile.

On the boarding passes. Aaargh! When I finally had resolved all the errors on my entries, added my passport number for the fourth time, and gotten a successful notice, that last page, the one with the two options: print or send to mobile device for the boarding pass. Well. The button for the mobile boarding pass, the one I wanted, wouldn’t work. So? Just print one. Right. Except. My printer went on strike yesterday and all the tricks I know have not convinced it to return to work. I know. I can print one at the airport, but I got very completist and wanted to do one or the other. Finally, the American Airlines website sent up a distress signal. Apparently a system wide problem. Gonna go have breakfast and try again for the mobile option a few hours from now.

Been happy with how light I am with myself over these last few months. Very little oh shit Charlie, you dipstick! More amused laughter and gentle self-acceptance. This is a big and welcome change. I want to carry this change over into travel which can trigger Bad Charlie  easily. I get anxious, can’t hear well, not sure I’m making good decisions and that comes out as anger. At myself and others. 99% of the time I’m fine. But, oh boy that 1%. A part of myself I want to give over to my mussar training. Pause. Breathe. Assess. Then react. Another opportunity for self-acceptance and improvement. Among the many, so many that occur everyday.

Bought two Korean literary classes for my Kindle and plan to read them on the way. Gonna take a leave in the seat pocket Lee Child Reacher thriller, too. Once I get these last matters taken care of, some food in my stomach, I’ll return to being excited. A familiar routine.