Ire hab the pouagra, pwease.

My time here in Korea is coming to an almost immediate end. My parents are now in Korea, and I have since left Yeosu (with an offensive amount of luggage and a resulting back injusry) for Seoul to live the rest of my days in Korea as a tourist. I think that perhaps the best indication of my personal growth and adaptation to this country is the fact that during my 'If I had a million dollars' lesson, one student wrote: "pouagra, cabior" when asked what he would eat and I could discern his meaning as being 'foie gras and caviar." Seriously, hooked on phonics worked for me.

In truth, I will miss the bizarre relationship between Koreans and English. Somehow it is both a language too foreign to chance a conversation in, but the perfect language to advertise and add street cred and visual interest to anything from T-Shirts to billboards. If I were the English Language, I might be a tad put off by being played so hot and cold. There's a comparison to be drawn between this and Western use of Eastern language in tattoos.

As someone who enjoys playing with English more than my students seem to enjoy playing with themselves under their desks and school uniform blazers, I have a certain built-in fondness for anything that might pass as wordplay. I'm more than game for a little intentional misspelling and bait-and-switch word usage, maybe this is why I can't help but smile ear-to-ear whenever I go t-shirt shopping.



Besides being able to shop in the women's section again, shopping in Canada is going to be terrible in comparison. Will I engage in it anyways, absolutely-I have a problem. Does a crack addict give up crack altogether when they return from a vacation destination where they experienced better crack? Well, maybe. I don't even know if crack addicts are prone to vacation... Are there even varying qualities of crack? Clearly, while largely comprehensive, my Degrassi Drug Education has left stones unturned.

Servicee

In English, service can mean a lot of things. If English is your first language, you can vouch for me when I say that none of these various meanings is synonymous with "free." Think again, chingus! Here in the Land of the Morning Calm, it means just that. When first I experienced this bastardized form of the word it was in a context that was confusing as all hell. It was at a Korean BBQ restaurant and a waiter brought a few bottles of Cider over to my table saying "servicee". I thought: no subtlety there, this young buck thinks he's giving excellent service and is pointing it out in the hopes of a tip, fair enough. I mean, before leaving for Korea I had read enough sources to indicate that the Korean grasp on nuance wasn't the most developed. However, I had read and heard form the same sources that tipping in Korea was a faux pas. How worldly this young gentleman must then be to be extorting a foreigner for gratuities! Not. The. Case. In reality, we were being given free cider. A welcome alternative and a great welcome to Korea!

Such random acts of servicee (herein after referred to as RAS) have peppered my time here. It will happen when you least expect it and oftentimes the items that are doled out as servicee are completely random and often of no relation to the situation or the purchase pre-cursing it. In Canada, sometimes when the gas station overcharges you for a bottle of water, they will throw in a free chocolate bar. Bonus! Maybe it will be beyond its allocated shelflife and the kind shopkeeper thinks that the bottle of water will be just the thing to wash it down. These two items are related. In Korea, maybe you'll run into a Ministop to replenish your beer supply and BANG; RAS! Tuna. A single can. Beer and tuna would be hard to associate using even the '7 degrees of Kevin Bacon' method! Never mind the fact that I was, on the occasion in question, in the midst of drinking said beers at the quaint table and chairs just beyond the doors of the Ministop. I mean, the cashier knew I wasn't going home. And if her intention was that I eat it with my beer, she might have been so kind as to provide me with disposable chopsticks like she did that one time when I bought yogurt. On that particular day I received two counts of RAS to the tune of the aforementioned chopsticks and the subsequent lip slivers.

So, yes. This falls under the "Things I will miss" section of the final countdown. When at home I begin being denied free upgrades and random items after shooting people a profile highlighting my 'high nose' or making my biggest 'round eyes', I simply don't know what I'll do.
I mean, I have not paid for toilet paper this year! And it's always been the classy, scented, animated kind. You know, the kind that's been long outlawed in North America for irritating a certain delicate pH balance, if you know what I mean. If you don't, that's cool too. Probably for the best. Vaginas are weird. I mean...

Back to school, back to school, to prove to mom I'm not a fool.

Welcome, March 2nd; the first day of a new school year in Korea! It's a new season and there is a fresh batch of grade 7 boys who welcome me to the school with screams as though they are all Justin Bieber fans and that I am the Bieby himself.

If only cowbell could cure this particular fever.

This, first day of the 2011 school year, was full of fun things. Some of which fall into the "Things I Will Miss" category while other things (and people) will belong in the "Things I Won't Miss" column. I will of course miss the waygook-fever and the fact that my new Vice Principal is an ex-English teacher who will understand me when I am sent to him with all of my questions and concerns by a co-teacher whose biggest job seems to be saying "oh, really?" whenever I tell her that I don't speak Korean. To her credit, she does this rather well.

I will not miss the incomprehensible lack of logic and/or organization that characterizes my daily life in a Public Korean Middle School. No, no I can't tell what my schedule is after sitting in on the staff meeting conducted entirely in Korean; no, no I don't think that it is a good idea to replace the only English computer in the school with a Korean one the day that school starts and leave the boxes from the new one and remnants of the old one strewn about the English lab. Yes, yes I do think that the previously mentioned action renders my desk-warming time, during which I was supposed to plan this semester's classes, even more useless than its very name suggests. Everything that I saved on that computer is obviously gone, baby, gone. And, though I honestly didn't do any planning over the break, I had 10 months of powerpoints and lessons from last year on it, so I'm still chalking it up as a loss. A huge one. One that might drive me to drink.

It seems worth mentioning that as of 5 p.m. on this, the fateful first day of a whole new year, I have yet to be given any direction as to what I am supposed to be doing today, this week, or the rest of the year. I have missed lunch because there are no bells today since the schedule is different. Isn't a different schedule a good reason to employ the use of bells? No, probably not. After missing lunch, I got a call on my hand pone from my co-worker (not co-teacher, never my co-teacher) asking where I was and saying that he was looking for me. Cool. You know where he didn't look? The only place that I ever am. Bitch ain't got nothing on Nancy.

Absence makes the heart grow...indifferent?

Though I must say that I had initial reservations about my ability to maintain a blog, I will admit that I harboured hope that I might become addicted to it like I am internet television. Wrong. My apologies to the few (father...) people who attempt to keep tabs on me by following my blog. Turns out you keep up with it more than I. I will now, for the umpteenth time since undertaking this blog, promise to try to do better. You know, for the 2 months that I have left.

Speaking of the 2 months I have left - I ONLY HAVE TWO MONTHS LEFT! What gives, Father Time; you sneaky, speedy bitch? In all fairness, one could hardly argue that I did nothing to speed it along as I have crammed a hell of a lot of Korea into my year here, taking less than 3 weekends off in the whole of the year. It is my shock that I have mustered such stamina at my ripe, old age that causes me to brag about such numbers. Proudly, I have not said 'no' to a weekend's festivities due to dwindling funds or lengthy bus rides to and from. Not once. As a result, I have seen a lot of Korea and a lot more of Asia than I thought would be possible with the relatively limited amount of vacation days that I am granted in my contract. Have I lost a lot of sleep? Yes. Have I slept in ill-advised places? Yes.

Have I gone against doctors' orders and boarded an air-conditioned bus while suffering pneumonia just to make it to a Tigers' game and be busted by my school by being on TV? Yes.

Am I positive that photos of mine and my friends' shenanigans will land us on a promotional banner or website for one of the festivals we ravaged? Quite.

Will these same photos be sufficient in foiling my plans of running for office in the future? Most definitely.

While it is all well and good to applaud myself for the life I've squeezed in to the past 10+ months, all I can focus on is what I need to cram into these next 2. For example, I need to post entries on this here bloog about my trips to Malaysia and Indonesia. I also need to show my big brosephine a hella good time during his short stay here and then regroup for my parents' arrival at the end of my contract. I also need to log face time with the friends I have made over the course of the past year. A certain couple of ladies have either kept me from losing my sanity or lost theirs right along with me; allowing me to remain sane, at least comparatively. Mercifully, these two lovelies are both from Canada and I have little doubt that I will see them again in the future, though likely not as soon or as often as I would like. As for the other people that I have met and not hated, I think I should see them in the future as well, both the Canadians and otherwise. The Canadians because I travel the True North Strong and Free side-to-side a good deal, and those from abroad because I live in the world's best country and who wouldn't want to visit? Jerks, that's who.

Going back to the beginning of this entry where I halfheartedly promise to be more (at all) vigilant about updating this beginner’s blog: from now on, I am just going to enter little anecdotes about Korea and label them as things that I will either miss, or not miss, about Korea.

Number 1:

I will miss the way cabbies see foreign fares as a way of getting free English lessons.

This particular point falls under both headings because sometimes this situation is awesome and sometimes it makes me want to tuck and roll out the cab, ya' heard? It is awesome when the cabbie in question already speaks a tiny bit of English and tries to communicate with you and prompt you for pointers on pronunciation while you struggle through his/her valiant attempt at actual verbal exchange. It is terrible then the cabbie in question speaks no English, asks if you speak Korean, to which you respond "no," all while becoming increasingly heated while yelling at you in Korean and asking for English translations. To premise, I maintain that Hangul really is the German of Asian languages and whatever it is that he or she is saying sound a lot like threats and verbal attacks.

Christmas in Korea

December 25th, 2010.

This is the day that marked the first Christmas that was not spent with my family. The first Christmas that all 5 Prymacks were not celebrating together. I must admit that I do see some satisfaction in the fact that I was the first one to miss a Christmas at home. Not because I wouldn't have preferred to be home with everyone, just because I think that it would have been harder to be home and have one of my other family members absent. Especially since I had long been preparing myself for this since it seemed inevitable with an older brother in the military and a younger brother constantly jet-setting around the world for to fight with swords. For me, it was as though Christmas didn't exist. Korea doesn't celebrate Christmas, so there were scarcely reminders except for the Christmas movies that I watched on my laptop and the Hanson Christmas album that I listened to on my laptop. To be fair, I do both of these things year-round if we are counting Love Actually as a Christmas movie.

My Christmas was celebrated in a way that allows for many a parallel to be found with the way I celebrate at home. And here's why:

1) I ate until I felt sick

2)I drank before noon

3)I was in great company

4)I wore pajamas for most of the day

5)I got to watch my family open their presents thanks, skype!

It was dissimilar also, obviously. And here's how:

1)There was no turkey

2)There were no hugs from my family sad face

3)There was no egg nog

4)I took my friend to a Korean hospital where she was outfitted with a Darth Vader-esque mask for her sweet bronchitis/former smoker's cough

So, as I said, we did not eat turkey. Tragic, though it was, we did manage to eat until we felt sick. Which I always find to be a sign of a job well-done. What we DID do was produce a spectacular college-student-grade feast featuring pasta with chicken and mushroom sauce. This dish was partially produced in a kettle. We also had a salad. We also had more cheese than I would ever advise. And nuts. And fruit. AND OLIVES. So, I was happy. I was even happier since there is photographic evidence of me wearing a Santa beard for the duration. Both as a beard and as a sweet eyebrow-hair statement - an obvious nod to Einstein.

Perhaps the most touching part of all of the festivities was when a song featuring the lyrics 'Christmas in Korea's a new one for me. Trading your sleigh for a Jeep...' came on in the midst of our exchanging of Secret Santa stockings. Le Tear.

Countdown to Christmas 2011 has begun.

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.

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.

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.

The weekend to end weekends!

Weekends in the ROK are always a mixed bag. None more so than the weekend of July 23rd to 25th. In an effort to recover from what was a hectic and trying weekend at mudfest, me and my A Team decide that we should plan for a tame destination. We settled on Mokpo, a decent sized city and the home of Lindsay, so we could crash for free and take it more or less easy. Bring on the less easy...as usual.

Friday
Lazer had been raving about a bistro type place called Kirin's, and I've never heard of a bistro that serves kimchi, so I am instantly on board. So we go for dinner, and are blown away. A) By the food and atmosphere and B) by the owner Jin Seon. She is a Korean who is in a relationship with a French ex-pat - hence the bistro. I ordered pumpkin lasagna, it was a good choice. Lazer ordered the eggplant lasagna, it was a better choice and is featured below.


Back to Jin Seon, she is unreal. The decor of the joint is of her own design and we find out later into the evening that quite a few of the photographs and paintings are hers. We make the assumption that one so cool must love to party. Let me tell you, assuming doesn't ALWAYS make asses of people. She's down. She tells us that she just needs to clean up and that since we are the only people left in the restaurant, she'll close down and we'll leave as soon as the dishes are done. Stiff and I, sensing an opportunity to expedite the process, get started on the dishes. We make a mean assembly line.


As a means to pay us back for our voluntary labour, Jin Seon grabs around 6 bottles of wine. Pretty good ratio for 7 people, ne? 'Ne' is Korean for 'yes'. 바보 is Korean for stuuuupid. Off we head to Peace Park, a splendid boardwalk type area, in order to set off fireworks and dance on forbidden barges. So, it's getting pretty late and, as cool as Jin Seon is, she is far from irresponsible. She heads home to bed. We don't. We demand to be taken somewhere we can dance, and dance we do. Until the wee morn. We are taken to a club called Gwang Nights. It is a fun time. Spotted: fit Korean man in tribal printed harem pants. Win! Obviously, a dance-off is waged and lost. To be fair, the opponent was a member of the Korean National Ballet. The bulk of which we met when we were invited back to their table. We are told to come watch them in Swan Lake the next day.

Saturday
Wake up after a cat nap of a night's sleep. Head down to Kraze burger to ingest Western-style beef products..and in Stiff's case, a veggie burger. Tool around town. Get coffee in A DOLL HOUSE, go shopping. Gamze buys a whole new wardrobe. Nothing really out of the ordinary here.

Head back to Lazer's place for a self-prescribed nap. Nawwwwt. This turns to girl talk and silliness which in turn get us amped for another night at Gwang Nights. Mamma Marie, ever the responsible one, opts to stay in and engage in the horizontal activity known as 'sleep', something the rest of us have but vague memories of. No worries. We take Marie with us in the form of a necklace. Realizing that we've yet to eat a real dinner, we head to Tom and Tom's cafe and get some bagels. Because that covers all of the food groups. We are mistaken for prostitutes. We head to a Family Mart to start drinking a classy mixture of Hot 6 (Korean Red Bull) and Soju (Korean Life Source). On the way, Stiff spots the very same tribal harem pants from last night and she calls to their wearer from down the street. Of course it is the same dudes. They have excellent English on account of living abroad studying ballet and likely being from wealthy families. They use this English to ask why we didn't go to their ballet. Fair question, we thought it was a joke. We assure them that we will go the following day. We head to the nightclub to meet up with some Korean guy friends of Lazer's. They play on her soccer team, they have excellent English. They have reserved a Noraebang (Singing Room) for us.

After dancing to some K Pop, we submit and go to the Noraebang that Korean Joel, who's favorite words are 'jesus' and 'christ', has reserved. We ride there in a convertible. We sing and party at length. We find out that one of our Korean friends, Jay, is the male and Korean version of Celine Dion. We are told that he was on Korean Idol, but was kicked off for being too drunk. I love him immediately. We stay there until 8 AM! And really, even at this point only think to leave because Gamze has been dropped knee-first onto a glass table.




Sunday
After taking a few photos in the cab to Lazer's place, I fall dead asleep. We sleep until midmorning at Lazer's before heading to Kraze Burger to wreak more gastrointestinal havoc on our bodies. To premise: I already feel awesome.
Bring on the ballet! So, we go to the ballet. It is amazing. The set and costumes are amazing. We all develop crushes on the ballerinas that we had chance encountered twice this very weekend. I start calling them ballerinos in an effort to make them more easily classifiable as male to people who hear this story. And because I like messing with English like that. After the performance, we are invited for dinner. The bulk of the ladies attend, but I am forced to flee back to my stomping ground a whopping 3+ hour bus ride away. Le sigh. As soon as I get on the first bus of my trek in Mokpo, I begin my week-long attempt to rest and recharge for what is sure to await me 5 days into the future - another weekend.

Korean Haircut How-to

Despite my deep-rooted and lasting desire to grow my hair "mermaid long", I recently submitted myself to my first Korean haircut. Hot dog, was it ever an experience. After asking my ever-so-helpful ko-teacher to write down the Korean translation for "trim", only to have her write down what google translate later revealed as "big cut", I venture out into the mean streets of Yeosu in search of a hair salon. This was probably the easiest mission ever since "hair clubs" dot the streets of Korea like hole-in-the-wall restaurants. So, in I walk. I check my umbrella at the door; as is the custom in Korea, where during monsoon season every and all salon/restaurant/store has an umbrella condom machine and receptacle at the entry. I am then greeted by the nicest and least English-speaking personnel. Win. Here, I engage my inner Korean and drop a bow and a greeting on them before basically exhausting my knowledge of Hangul by saying "조금". This means 'little'. When paired with sign language, I am sure that this adequately expresses my desire for a trim and my aversion to "big cut".

I sit in the chair, and the I am introduced to my stylist. He is at once the most effeminate and heterosexual man I have EVER met. His scissors, combs, and blow dryer call a bejeweled HOLSTER at his hip their home. And really, why wouldn't they?

Then, he gets to work on the cut. One man, 5 pairs of scissors. Hair in my face for the duration. I have no idea whether or not my broken Hangul and sweet gesturing has indeed conveyed my desire for "just a little off the ends", I start to worry that my Ko has phoned ahead to ensure that I leave with a Korean bowl-cut..

The hair is parted, I still have hair. Phewf. Thinking the fun is over, I stand and start to walk towards the counter. Too soon, first, I am supposed to follow an underage child worker into the back to have my hair washed. Slightly backwards by my standards, but hey, in Korea you do call 119 in case of emergency. So, I sit down and put my head in the sink behind me. It is now that my height becomes a problem in Korea. Again. Sweet sassy molassy, is that sink ever far from where my shoulders naturally sit. No matter, I'll power through.

Then, following the wash that followed the cut, comes the towel dry -this preteen girl has her WAY with my ears. She sticks her fingers right in there. It was not entirely unpleasant, though she may have made contact with my brain, thus robbing me of my ability to do basic math. I am ushered back to the first chair, and my super-fem hair dresser is fetched from his smoke break. No less than 3 asians with no less than 5 blow dryers between them get going on my hair. Korean efficiency is real. Hair dry, my stylist shoos away his help and proceeds to curl my whole head of hair.

When all is said and done, I saunter questioningly over to the counter. I only have about 50, 000 won in my wallet, so I reach for my bank card and don't even try to decipher what price she tells me before handing it over. I get the receipt, fully prepared for the whole song and dance to amount to anything over 50, 000. Not a chance. 12, 000 won and a "trim" later, I walk out of the salon with the nicest hair I've had since prom...into a monsoon.

Double win.

latentryaboutheworldcup

Yeah, Korea's been out of the World Cup for a a while now. Both Koreas, in fact. But since the World Cup itself is still recent enough to be relevant to the world via the many who care and the few who've since jumped on the bandwagon, I figured that I still had a window to write about Korea's showing.
To be fair, I honestly never even noticed the WC before I moved to Korea for this one. I had heard the words 'World Cup' before, but as far as my life goes, I was only familiar in terms of the school yard game by the same name, wherein teams of two adopt the name of a country and try to score on the same net as many other teams of two who've adopted the namesakes of other countries. It should probably be noted that Canada was not a popularly chosen country to represent among those playing this game.

Above is a photo of me watching the Korea vs. Uruguay game in Busan. It was pouring. In Korea, there is a country-wide belief that rain causes one to melt. But seriously, Koreans fear the rain like a mother. Which is hilarious because they have a Monsoon SEASON. But anyways, even the monsoon couldn't keep the Koreans off of the beach, where they gathered in droves and in ponchos.

Jeollanamdon't mind if I do!

And, while I do love Yeosu in all of it's obvious glory, I take every opportunity to explore more of the province. This is largely because at the end of a one-week orientation, I was chucked solo into Yeosu and my friends and fellow waygooks were scattered far and wide. As such, it is awesomely easy to justify weekly visits to other pockets of Jeollanamdo. By the way, family and friends from home and environs; I no longer pronounce it Jello-lando....at least when sober.

Highlights of my ventures thus far include a trip to Mokpo for some fireworks and to rub shoulders with the Mokpo's finest. The latter is meant to include the likes of my friends who live there, and also the actual police. Ahem. We then took a ferry that smelled not at all of fish to what is known as "the love island". It was there that I felt too modest to wear just a bikini and thought it necessary to wear a large piece of seaweed as a cheeky skirt.

So, I've been to some beach parties, some house parties..and a good deal of Mini Stop parties. And, while it's hard to pick favourites; the novelty of pounding back some cheap as booze in public under a parasol, while summoning Korean locals who may, or may not, be of age to join in, has not yet worn off.