Joanie Loves Chachi

The Korean word for penis is pronounced 'Chachi;' written as 자지. On a related note, the first episode of 'Joanie loves Chachi' that aired in Korea was the highest rated show of ever.

Another fun fact: in English, we often refer to the more bulbous and spherical components of male genetalia as 'balls,' 'nuts,' or even 'jewels.' Well aren't we clever. Maybe we are clever, but we are surely not as creative as the Korean masses. Their slang for these same body parts equates to 'fire eggs' when translated directly.

In an effort to appeal to both sexes, I will include in this entry the fact that a woman's period is called 'magic day' here in Korea...magic indeed if it were to last but one day. There is also a brand of feminine hygiene products that goes by this name: Abracadabra.

Puck off, North Korea!

So, I got to Korea just in time for the hullaballoo that was the missile attack on the South Korean freighter by North Korea. Since then, it has been mostly smooth sailing and I've stopped thinking that all of the loud Korean announcements on the street (usually about sales on fruit) are telling me to seek shelter from a nuke sent to us with love from Kim Jong-Il. However, as of early last week, tensions are high again since the adult baby known as Kim Jong Il decided to open fire on some unsuspecting and undeserving South Korean soldiers. In all, 4 were killed (to my knowledge); 2 soldiers and 2 civilians. How rude, Lil' Kim. Since this most recent incident, the world seems to have gotten a little carried away. And by world, I mean media. As someone currently living in South Korea, I can tell you that the atmosphere is little affected. Yeah, it is a serious matter, and yes, some international attention is merited. Also, I will be checking my e-mail more regularly for potential word form the Canadian Embassy telling me to get the puck out of here. My point is just that, all things considered, it is not that big of a deal. It is by no means the first time something like this has happened and all of my Korean friends assure me that it is of no concern of ours, especially since we are so far south.

I think at this point that the media, especially foreign media, are just as guilty of war-mongering as the "Shining Star of Paektu Mountain." So, for all of those who think that I am dead in South Korea, I am not. Take a load off. Why not indulge in a sip of soju and chuckle at this lighthearted gem.



Disclaimer: I plan on deleting this entry altogether if we get nuked.

Busan International Fireworks Festival

Okay. So, in Korea, they use "international" as an adjective in the names of pretty much any festival, no matter how strictly intranational...which isn't a word but I hope it comes across as meaning the opposite of international. Perfect. Usually, this causes some disappointment. Such was not the case at all with Busan's International Fireworks Festival. I was far from disappointed as I sat on Gwangali beach with over a million other people watching the sky light up as various continents/countries did their best to woo us with a sweet show of fire working. The show was scheduled to start at 8, we were there more than 2 hours early and the beach itself had been claimed. Me and my posse of 10 or so champions claimed a wee slice of the sidewalk between the beach and the road as our very own. By the time the actual show was to start, the street bordering the sand directly, as well as the ones meeting it, were legitimately fullof people. Behold the fire, as it works.

Europe was the most impressive in my opinion, as they lit up the entire mother licking bridge in sweet symphony with the classical music that was accompanying their display. You'll all be happy to know that of the two songs that we were supposed to identify as American was one sweet Disney ditty.


The only time I felt less than positively giddy throughout the whole time was when, as and after the crowd dispersed, there was the most offensive amount of refuse left on the beach and the street bordering it. I'm sure this would have been the case anywhere because of the sheer bulk of people, but Korea's failure to get on the public trash can bandwagon pains me. Pains me good. All was not ruined though, the rest of the night had nothing but good things in store as all of the party people who had witnessed the festivities lingered on the beach for merriment and poor decision-making.

The Ugly

Breaking up the aforementioned "bad" of Manila, was the ugly that one Stephanie Sam Clark and I brought. The Philippines, you see, is home to a charming drinking establishment by the name of Hobbit House. Word on the street is that it was founded by a German expat and staffed by only little people. Having made back his initial investment and then some, the founder gave the business over to his employees. The slogan is "The Smallest Waiters in the World" and I can say with more than moderate confidence that this is true.
Besides the uniquely attributed employees, this bar has as its claim to fame an extensive selection of import beers - 100 to be exact. Coming from Korea, this was especially exciting. Eager to select a beer that we had been missing over the past 5 months, Stiff and I reached for the list only to behold the most tempting of deals.

Drink 5 import beers and get a free Hobbit House T-Shirt, you say? Don't mind if we do! So, Stiff and I set off on what we aimed to make a worldwide sampling of tasty brews. We decide to start off in Canada with some of our home and native land's Moosehead. I think it was sometime after this first beer that we decided to chronicle the 5 different beers and commemorate each and every one of them with a new hairstyle and unflattering photo.

We followed Moosehead with Kingfisher from India, Brahma from Brazil, Caffreys from Northern Ireland and finished with Singha from Thailand. So you see, it was with the sweet hair styles that we did indeed bring the Ugly...and the Cousin It...

Also, apart from the obvious sweet novelty of the joint coupled with the beer for T-Shirts deal, the bar was memorable on its own. They had amazing live music and atmosphere that prompted us to stay well beyond seeing the bottom of the last of our five foreign bottles of beer.

The Bad.

The title of this entry is not to suggest that there was anything bad about the trip, besides it ending, of course. It's actually in reference to balance that Lazer, Stiff, and I chose to strike between the paradise of the 'Ppines and more of the reality.

A lot of the SK Waygooks headed straight for Boracay. Fair. It is quite legitimately heaven. Our little group decided it best to see some of the mainland as well, so we spent the first few and the last few days in Manila. I'm glad we went did, but it was not all good. Parts of it were heartbreaking and one of us ended up breaking down while inside a convenience store. The three of us had gone into the Mini Stop to get water and, let's be honest, Pringles for the night. Just to get into the store, we had to step over and around families on the street - primarily emaciated mothers carrying one or more children. Having been warned against it countless times before arriving, we refrained from giving them money but picked up a few snacks and milk for them while inside the store. They watched through the doors and must have realized what we were doing because by the time we'd all left to distribute our meagre donations, the group outside had tripled. Devastating.

I also realized in Manila that there was the silverest of linings to my getting robbed in Vietnam. I sincerely believe having safely returned from the Philippines that had I not been mugged in Nam, I would have gotten absolutely stripped clean in Manila. Thankfully, I was freshly paranoid and nothing happened. We were constantly carrying our purses like footballs a la Joan Prymack, and we had distributed our money all over our bodies. These precautions proved to be far from unnecessary and at one point I physically removed a boy's hand from my pocket. He was in up to his elbow with his left hand while his right hand was fully visible in front of my face begging for money. I have no doubt that had we not been hyper careful, bad things would have happened especially since we were the ONLY white people in Manila, 3 white chicks, at that.

Apart from strictly observing the poverty and corruption, we took in the sights of Manila. We walked to the aquarium through Rizal park and spent a lovely afternoon. At the aquarium we took part in the 'foot spa'. This is the name given for massive pools of water wherein "Dr. Fish" eagerly await your freshly cleaned tootsies andhoover them smooth - one of my funnier experiences, especially given how ticklish I am. Whether or not I got my money's worth is debatable since I probably only succeeded in keeping my feet submerged for about 3 of the 20 minutes.

We also checked out the old Fort Santiago, which is the preserved and walled-in old city. It was cool to see how small the city was before Manila blew up into what it is now. We walked the whole perimeter in well under an hour.

The Good.

Korea was nice enough to schedule their Thanksgiving Holiday such as to allot us silly Waygooks another week's vacation. It seemed as though it would have been rude not to take advantage, so me and some of the coolest foreigners in the country fled to the Philippines.

4 out of the 8 days were spent on paradise. Assuming that I am bound for heaven at death, death will actually be redundant seeing as how I've already been there. For realz. I've been lucky in my life: I've traveled a good majority of the Caribbean and seen a lot of its beauty in brief. Nothing that I have seen in terms of beaches before can even touch Boracay. I'm not saying that pockets of what I've seen of the Caribbean haven't been as breathtaking - but I will say this: Boracay is an island measuring 9km long and 1km across. The whole thing is pristine.

We arrived in the evening and made a beeline for the beach. Walking into the water, we can see our feet and the fish we are startling. This is in the dark. After the sun goes down, the water is still so clear and clean that the visibility isn't compromised. Also, it feels like bath water. More like how bath water would feel if you were a god and your shower curtain was the most picturesque scene imaginable. There could not have been a better way to start our stay on Boracay and it proved perfectly indicative of things to come as this is how our stay on the island ended.

How's that for perfect symmetry?

So for starters we met up with the rest of the foreigners that were on Boracay and we went for some island hopping. This covered some cave swimming, some snorkeling, and lunch - all on a private boat. Not bad for under $20 per person for a full 6 some-odd hour day. A few days later, we had the same kind of deal put together, but this one was with cliff jumping as a primary objective. It was unbelievable. And, not taking anything away from my sweet times jumping off pirate ships in the 'Ppines or Antigua with my 2nd family, nothing compares to a 50 foot drop off a cliff. That's when your insides truly get acquainted with your bathing suit bottoms. Luckily, I have the mummy position down when I enter the water. For me, it's a necessity just to keep the bathing suit top on. Especially with waters as clear as these, I wasn't going to take any chances. So, I escaped primarily unscathed. I'm not going to pretend that jumping that height into water was a great choice with my sinus infection, but what's done is done. Not everyone had my sweet technique down and some people got a bruised tailbone in the deal, but I doubt they regret the experience as a whole, even if it is only because it's long since healed.
On top of these two day trips, we just got a lot of solid beach time in on one of the best beaches in the world. We also got massages on the beach which got interrupted mid-way but some tropical rain - Jumangi style. No worries though, the massages continued and though they might have been slightly less enjoyable with the pelting rain, I'm sure they will be remembered all the more vividly by all involved as a result.

Intelnationar Malching Band Pestivar

If you have read this before, you know that I have the sweetest co-teacher ever. In fact, I wrote this song about her:

You're a mean one, Jang Min Jeong.
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
Jang Min Jeoooo-ooong.

You're a bad banana
With a greasy black peel.

So you can understand my frustration and skepticism when she came to me and said the following: "You in parade on Wednesday, 6 o'clock." Sweet, Min Jeong, sweet. I was completely ready for this to mean that I would be in some sort of parade consisting of just me walking while being flogged....or frankly anything as bad or worse. Imagine my surprise and elation when I rock up to the mysterious address that my teacher wrote down for me (sans instructions )to find that this "parade" that I was to be in was in fact the YEOSU INTERNATIONAL MARCHING FESTIVAL!!! Win.

I don't know how "international" it was, since the whole ceremonial part of it was conducted in Korean....and the bulk of the bands in question were also Korean. What I do know, is this: Thailand was represented, as was the US. Canada made an appearance as well and brought with it about 15 bagpipes, 6 drums, and the combined amount of kilts - awesome because it's funny...not necessarily because it was good.

Up first, after the obligatory and VERY Korean opening ceremony (which took over an hour), was Thailand. So much about their performance was awesome. Between the traditionally dressed backup dancers who turned into the bass and drum players for the second song and the fact that the second song was The Phantom of the Opera complete with singers, I don't know what was best. What I do know is this: the guy who sang the part of the dude had glitter in his pocket. He threw this glitter at the end. Best finale ever? Quite possibly.

My second favorite performance was by one of Korea's many entries. Technically, it was incredibly flawed. The formations were elaborate and poorly executed. The players were literally looking behind them with fear in their eyes trying to make sure there were no collisions. Sadly, there weren't. You might be asking yourself "Diana, if they were so bad, why were they one of your favorites?" The answer is simple: song selection. They opened with a rendition of Mambo #5. That's right. Lou Bega has relevance beyond the 90s, after all! Their second song was all too predicable. I mean, when you hear Mambo #5, you immediately wish you could follow it up with the title track from Les Mis. No?

Anyways. This is a silly and pointless entry. Well, maybe more silly than pointless. The point is that Korea is hilarious and that you should all come. And, assuming that I know you, you should all come and stay with me. And bring Shake 'n' Bake mix. And Hot Chocolate. And Bath and Body Works hand sanitizing sheets. And, maybe most of all, tampons.

k,thanks,bai.