more dispatches from february.

The Royal Palace, Phenom Pheh, Cambodia

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Just saw a dragon dance being performed in the parking lot of a super market on our way to the temples of Angkor with Dari, our tuktuk driver. Happy new year, Cambodia.
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8:30am. Just caught the sunrise at Angkor Wat with Paul. Currently listening to Radiohead and the humming of the tuktuk motor. It's amazing, but my mind is still on Koh Tao. In my next life I'll be a beach bum.
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Thoughts that remain unsaid remain ineffable. More reading more writing and more thinking from now on.
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Overlooking the Tonle Sap river in Phenom Pheh

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In Siem Reap we saw a Wonder of the World and ate with the locals (thanks to Dara, our sweetheart of a tuktuk driver) but what really won me over to Cambodia was the capital, Phenom Pheh. In Phenom Pheh we saw palaces and killing fields, Cambodians, expats and meandering Brits. We partied at a nightclub with some of the bright young Khmers (some of them quite young, by US standards). What could have been a sketchy, uncomfortable evening wound up being great fun, thanks mostly to our random expat friends/guides.
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Street scene, Phenom Pheh

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Stop. Change of Pace. (Apologies for the rather somber turn this post is about to take.)

Despite all the opportunities for fun and adventure a vacation in southeast asia offers, there are some things you simply need to see while in Cambodia. No matter how awful. No matter how much you are dreading it. You cant just cruise on by to Vietnam and pretend that you are in a country where nothing bad has ever happened. Or at least, if you are me you can't. So, we went to see the Killing Fields.
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the Killing Fields.

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I thought for a long time before taking the picture above. This is not a regular tourist attraction. I felt a bit skeevy taking out my camera at all. Like it showed a lack of respect, or something. Also, I just hate the site of cameras snapping away at places like this, and i generally like to keep my level of personal hypocrisy to a minimum. However, the more I thought about it the more I realized that you don't do anyone any favors by editing history. Even if its just my personal photographic history that might one day at the very most get put up on my stupid blog. Turning away from this because its too ugly, because it is better left undisturbed, is not really an answer. So I took one photo and only one photo. Then we moved on.
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S-21

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What kind of revolution could they have hoped to build on the back of such violence? I wanted to say a prayer for the victims, for the country, for the souls dispatched with so much meaningless volence from this absurd place, but I realized with a mild sensation of horror (like missing a step in the house where you grew up, a falling sensation coupled with astonishment at one's own forgetfulness) that I had forgotten the Mourner's Kaddish.

[S-21 is a school that was turned into a prison by the Khemer Rouge. It is now the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum.]
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the rules of S-21 posted in the courtyard.

They read as follows:
1. You must answer accordingly to my questions - Don't turn them away.
2. Don't try to hide the facts by making pretexts this and that. You are strictly prohibited to contest me.
3. Don't be fool for you are chap who dare to thwart the revolution.
4. You must immediately answer my questions without wasting time to reflect.
5. Don't tell me either about your immoralities or the essence of the Revolution. 6. While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.
7. Do nothing, sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order, keep quiet. When I ask you to do something, you must do it right away without protesting.

[it goes to ten but i think that that's quite enough]
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weekend update

Things I did this weekend:

Had a picnic

Ran through a fountain

Fell in the mud

Bought new shoes

Got them dirty

Bought big earings and bigger sunglasses

Skyped my parents.

Downloaded more k-pop.

Did my laundry.

Saw 100,000 adorable asian babies and wated to smoosh them all.

Took pictures (of the 35mm variety).

Went to the memorial for the lost sailors from the sunken submarine. Realized how young they were. Realized that most of them were younger than me. Paused.

Satisfied my week long craving for a burrito.

Wandered down a random, sketchy hallway... and into a really cute piano bar.

Added an amazing photobooth charm to my phone.

Caught up on Personal Taste, my kdrama of the moment.

Climbed Namsan Mountain.

Had coffee at coffee prince.

Oh, and I guess somewhere in there i slept ^^. All in all, a very satisfactory weekend. God, I love it when the weather remembers that its spring!!

I was craving cupcakes the other day (and needed a haircut) so I went down to Life is Just a Cup of Cake in Itaewon.

Seriously, how cute is this place?

Red Velvet. The only cupcake that matters.

It's no Sugar Sweet Sunshine, but the frosting on these was really, really good. Now, if only I could find a place that made decent brownies...

looking forward, looking back,

you know you're getting older when you start feeling nostalgic for a time and a place you haven't actually left yet. This year is flying by. (Is it really midterms already? When did we get to the end of April?) Everytime I blink, another month has gone by. And while getting the fulbright is a huge honor and opportunity, it has made August a more difinitive end point than it had previously been.

 

Korea has grown on me, and in the end completely won me over. I was actually considering staying for another 6 months, thinking there was little chance of me getting a fb grant. shows what I know. Anyhow, I keep making mental lists of all the things I'll miss about Korea. I thought perhaps I'd post a few.

 

#5: The Korean approach to English education

 

The inevitable awkwardness of English (EFL) instruction keeps me entertained throughout the day. Here are some of my favorite prompts from the midterm:

 

A: When you talk like that I get upset.

B: I'm sorry, I'll be more considerate in the future.

 

A: Excuse me, waiter! This food is terrible. The steak is undercooked and the potatoes are cold.

B: I'm sorry, I'll take it back right away and bring you a new dish.

 

A: Why didn't you show up yesterday?

B: Something came up and I couldn't get away. I'm really sorry.

A: Did your phone break too? why didn't you call?

 

A: This isn't the room I reserved. I asked for a room on the business floor with an Internet connection.

B: I'm very sorry, ma'am. I'll call the front desk immediately and get this straightened out.

 

A: How did the test go?

B: Awful, I don't even want to talk about it.

 

A: I'll let it go this time, but don't ever do it again.

B: Thank you, I promise it wort happen again.

 

A: I'm looking for an engagement ring.

B: Yes sir! Right this way! We have a full range of diamonds here. I am sure you'll find something suitable.

 

A: You're looking slimmer these days. Have you been working out?

B: You know, everybody is telling me that! I should start working out more often.

 

A: Could I borrow your skis this weekend?

B: Sorry, I already lent them to my brother.

 

A: It looks like Johnny's going to make it through the surgery.

B: Oh, thats great to hear.

 

Perhaps these are only funny in context, or only to me and my bizzare sense of humor. But really, you have to appriciate the absurdity of my 9 classes of first years all memorizing these specific phrases. And what fourteen year old is shopping for engagement rings, anyway?

 

Here's to you, Korea. 건배!

proficiency

There's a small story in the times today on talent. It reads, in part:

"In addition, by studying those who have excelled, Professor Ericsson has found that they engage in something he calls "deliberate practice." It involves spending hours a day in highly structured activities to improve performance and overcome weaknesses.

The practice is not necessarily enjoyable and requires someone willing to put in the grueling hours over at least 10 years. From his observations, it takes a minimum of a decade of deliberate practice to excel in any field.

But he is not talking about practicing every day, all day. Four hours a day is usually the maximum that anyone can do to really get the most out of the effort, he said. After that, exhaustion sets in.

"Most people wouldn't be able to engage in deliberate practice for even a few weeks," Professor Ericsson said. And that's one of the biggest reasons why more of us don't get to — or even near — the top levels in a given field."

 

Which made me wonder, when was the last time I devoted 4 hours a day to anything?

 

I guess in school I would give that much time to studying and when I was younger I gave that time to books. Now, I give it to 맥주, friends and korean dramas. I suppose we could call that deliberate practice of leading a really enjoyable life.

 

article at http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/10/your-money/10shortcuts.html?src=me&ref=business

thoughts on a sunday

If we really do have souls, that is to say that if a soul is something that physically exists in this world (rather than merely as an idea) and as such has a more or less definite space within which it exists, then I think it would have to reside just underneath our skin, in the fraction of a micrometer between our outer layer and all the internal stuff that pumps the blood and digests the food and generally keeps us alive and well.

I mention this because last night, as we were all collected in the basement of honey chicken to celebrate a friend's birthday over beer and fried foods, the topic turned to tattoos. It should be noted that some of our friends have really, really impressive ones. I confessed that I didn't have any, and Matt's (somewhat playful) response was, "but you want one, right?" I thought, really thought, about his question. In a way you don't often give thought to questions posed to you at a party.

What stopped me was that I don't actually have any desire to get a tattoo. This may be a bit odd for someone of my age, but is not in and of itself particularly shocking. Having, at one time or another, toyed with the notion (like I said, some of my friends have really cool ink) I was surprised to find myself with zero plans, or desire, for future tattoos.

Now of course, there have always been downsides to tattoos, but none of these had ever turned me off the idea of tattoos entirely. So why my sudden contentment? Where was that little voice saying, well maybe just a small one. something subtle?

I finally realized that there is simply nothing left for me to tattoo on myself.

I once had a phrase that was particularly meaningful to me carved into a ring. It says "you, too, were once a stranger in a strange land". To elaborate all the ways that this sentiment is important to me would require more time and more focus than I can give it right this minute. Suffice to say that I still have, and treasure, this particular ring.

I think, if you could see through my skin, or somehow turn me inside out, you would find I am covered with similar engravings. My soul is tattooed, from fingertips to toenails, with words that I have loved, places that I have seen, homes that I have lost, people I treasure and experiences that I may never be able to put into words. Underneath, I could give Ray Bradbury's Illustrated Man a run for his money. When I die I am certain that my soul (if it exists) will be the most beautiful tattoo I could ever imagine. What on earth could I put on the outside, could I ask someone to draw with hands and ink and tools, that could compare to that?

So, I am content to remain tattoo-less. I continue to enjoy the tattoos of others, however. And even more, the stories that always come with them.

[this turned out to be more of a journal entry than a blog post. apologies if that was a bit heavy. also, apologies to my medically trained parents for so abusing human anatomy in the name of poetry. and for referring to internal organs as "stuff". ;p]

An Interlude...

From Borges, My Whole Life

I am this groping intensity that is a soul.
I have got near to happiness and have stood in the shadow of suffering.
I have crossed the sea.
[...]
I believe that my days and my nights, in their poverty and their riches, are the equal of God's and of all men's.

sigh.