2018 Olympics Are Coming to Korea

The third time's a charm! When I first moved to Korea four years ago South Korea was in the midst of a bid for the 2014 Winter Olympics. It was their second time bidding for the Winter Olympics, having barely lost 6 years prior to Vancouver to host the 2010 Olympics. They had lost to Vancouver by only 4 votes. Unfortunately in 2007 Russia beat Korea in its second bid by an even more agonizing 3 votes. This past week Korea tried for the third time to host the Winter Olympics. Success! And a landslide. Korea won it's bid with 63 votes, the most ever in a first round of voting.


The 2018 Olympics will be held in Pyeongchang, South Korea. Pyeongchang is about 3 hours from Seoul, on the east coast. They do get a lot of snow. I went skiing there this past winter. When our bus left Seoul it was cloudy, but not snowing. Right as we got into the Pyeongchang area the snow started to fall we could see they had received 12 inches of fresh snow the night before. The mountains of Korea certainly can't compare to the Alps, or even the Rockies, but I guess the IOC thinks they're good enough for Olympic skiing.


Of course, skiing just accounts for a few of the winter events. In fact, most of the events do not take place on a mountain ski slope. Korea is especially proud of their strong speed skaters. Unwitting to most Americans, South Korea has a rivalry with the United States when it comes to speed skating. Didn't know that, did you? Apparently in one of the previous Olympics the American, Apolo Ohno, knocked a Korean down and cost him the gold medal. Of course it wasn't on purpose but it doesn't matter. Koreans remain very bitter about that moment. Mention "Apolo Ohno" to any Korean and they'll respond with a scowl. Especially the kids. I just think it's amazing that they know an American athlete by name. I doubt many Americans could name any Korean athletes. There might be one, however- Kim Yuna.

Kim Yuna won the gold medal in figure skating for South Korea in last year's Vancouver Olympics, winning Korea it's first medal in that sport and earning herself the devotion of a nation. Her face is plastered everywhere here. There's even a children's cartoon based on her. I know- crazy!

Last year South Korea won a total of 14 Olympics medals in Vancouver, 6 of those gold. It was Korea's best showing ever. Compare that 2002 when they won just 4 medals in all and they've come a long way. The excitement of the Korean people is palpable and they are ready for such a big event, not just as a city, but as a nation. I attended the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics with my sister, Laura. They were so smoothly run it was amazing. If the Asian work ethic is any indication, I think the Pyeongchang Olympics will be just as organized and successful.

In 1988 Seoul hosted the Summer Olympics. That truly was a watershed event in the history of this country. It directly helped bring democracy to South Korea and was a coming out party for the country. Korea was no longer a backwater Asian country known for it's nasty northern neighbor and a war in the 1950's, but an up and coming nation capable and worthy of big things. It will be interesting to see how this next Olympics changes the country, 30 years later. Whether I'm still living in Korea or not, I know I'll be there!

Ziplining in Mungyeong- 2nd Publication!

Here is the second story I had published in Groove Magazine. For pictures, follow the link HERE and download the PDF. It's actually a really cool looking spread. I'm quite proud. Hehe.

“Just walk off the platform. It’s fun.” Yeah right. One would think such a simple instruction would be easy to follow, but when that platform happens to be 48 meters above the ground and you’re about to fly over a ravine on a wire, compliance doesn’t come quite so easily, especially if you have a healthy respect for heights. That’s like saying to an arachnophobe, “Just pet the tarantula, it’s friendly.” Yes, such things are much easier said than done.

Thea's palms were sweaty with anxiety. That day she had tagged along with a large group of American soldiers to the zipline course. She was the last of the group to take the walk of faith and even though she had just witnessed ten people zip along the wire unharmed, what if she happened to be that statistical improbability -- an accident?

Having taken a pass on bungee jumping, and refusing to even contemplate skydiving with her friends, Thea was determined not to be left out on ziplining. She took a deep breath, walked three paces off the platform, and squeezed her eyes shut. Zzzzzzzzziiiiiippppp!! The written word does not do justice to the actual sound. Unlike the dainty zip! of a jeans fly, the sound of a pulley, weighed down by an adult human, sliding down a 13mm-thick inclined steel wire at up to 40 km/hr is unlike anything you’ve heard before. It’s a reverberation. Racing back up the line it whips behind any observer standing on the departing platform like a boomerang and blasts them with vibrations. Such is the effect that even though a ziplining person might already be 100 meters down the line, it sounds like they’re whizzing right by your ear. It’s a sound that denotes speed, exhilaration, power. The power to overcome fears.

Thea opened her eyes just in time to glide in for a landing. As she gingerly took the steps down off the landing platform her pursed lips loosened and spread triumph across her face. She’d done it. She hadn’t freaked out. She hadn’t backed out. She had conquered her fear and what’s more, "It was really fun!" she gushed. "And not scary at all."

One might call ziplining a “light” adventure sport. There’s no danger of going splat should your parachute not open, nor is there expensive training involved, such as with scuba diving. In some places ziplining is even used for the treatment of acrophobia, the fear of heights.

Kang Dong-Jun, a manager at Zipline Mungyeong, says his facility has not started programs specifically for that purpose. However, he sees people like Thea nonetheless conquering their fears every day. The best part of his job he says, is seeing the energizing effect that ziplining has on otherwise risk-averse people. “They smile and thank me afterward and tell me how much fun they had,” he says. “Some even ask for my phone number.”

As an adventure sport, ziplining gained popularity in the mid-‘90s in Costa Rica as an exhilarating way to see the beauty of the rainforest while having a softer imprint on the environment. Mr. Kang helped bring ziplining to Korea when Zipline Mungyeong opened in 2009.

Nestled amongst Korea's emerald mountains, Mungyeong's scenic locale makes the perfect place for an eco-friendly zipline facility. Zipline Mungyeong remains the only large professional zipline facility in the country and, with nine different courses, amounts to 1.4 kilometers of high-flying thrills. This culminates in a spectacular ride above the trees that reveals a panoramic view of the mountain forest and Mungyeong’s rice paddies below. Standing at the start one can barely see the landing platform 378 meters away. Whizzing through the trees like Tarzan is liberating, and yet one feels perfectly secure in their sturdy harness attached to a steel line that can support up to eight tons of weight. But is ziplining truly safe?

Mr. Kang chuckles and points to the photographs on the wall of laughing children in their helmets and harnesses. “We even let children do it. Over the past two years we have had over 50,000 visitors. I’d be lying if I said we’ve had no accidents. However, none of them have been the result of ziplining.” Turns out walking down a mountain trail is more dangerous than ziplining.

So what makes ziplining stand out from other adventure sports? Mr. Kang leans back in his chair and smiles as if recalling a pleasant memory. “The great thing about ziplining is that it’s not an individual sport like paragliding or skydiving. One can experience it in a group with family and friends. And anyone can do it. Grandmothers and grandfathers even come here.”

Grandmas? Well if they can enjoy it, anyone can.

April 14th- Black Day

Today is Black Day. Today also happens to be my birthday. But, it's not a black day because it's my birthday. It's actually a bright and sunny spring afternoon. Very representative of my sunny disposition. Haha!

In Asia, the fourteenth of every month is a special day. In Korea three of those days are primarily celebrated. February 14th is Valentine's Day, as we all know. On that day in Korea women give their significant others chocolate. The 14th of March is known as White Day. It's on that day that men reciprocate by giving their significant other candy. And April 14th, that's Black Day. This day is for everyone else.

Black Day is the day that single people commemorate their singleness. Single parties are held today. There's a speed dating party that I heard about that's happening today. There are 20 guys and 20 girls and you have 3 minutes to talk to each person. Every three minutes you switch. Apparently it's the new rage. I wouldn't know though, I've never been. The most famous way single people commemorate Black Day, however, is by by eating ja-jang-myeon.

Ja-jang-myeon is noodles with black been sauce, and it's eaten today because of it's color. It came to Korea about 100 years ago from China, and is now more popular here than there. It is the most popular home delivery food- much more so than pizza, chicken, and traditional Korean food. It also happens to be one of my personal favorite dishes in Korea. I know the photo may not look appetizing to a Westerner, but take my word for it, black bean sauce and noodles is so delicious! Although I am celebrating today, I won't be eating ja-jang-myeon. I don't need to and besides, it's my birthday. Tonight I am planning on having a night on the town with my friends and we will kick it off by eating some excellent Western fare: brick oven baked pizza at the new restaurant that opened down the road.

And what do all the people who are spoken for do on Black Day? Not much. Either thank God they're not single, or conspire about how they can be.

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things...

I've been meaning to write for awhile about what I like about Korea. Instead of making a list, I'll just highlight them one by one as I see fit. They will be in no particular order, but if I had to choose the best thing about Korea, it would probably be the dirt cheap and easily accessible health care. But that's for another day...

Today's thing that I love about Korea:

#1 SEO-BI-SUH

Last night I went grocery shopping and was reminded of the freebies that come with almost everything in Korea. They're called "service". The way a Korean would say it is "seo-bi-suh". It's one of those many English words that the Koreans have adopted into their vocabulary but changed the meaning slightly.

Often times a product like cereal or laundry detergent will have another "service" product attached to it. By attached I mean wrapped with clear box tape. Sometimes they're related, sometimes not. I've seen bowls taped to cereal boxes. That makes sense. The paper towels attached to my cereal, on the other hand, not so much sense. Nor does the Tony the Tiger visor a friend of mine received. Last night I had to choose between just a carton of milk and a carton of milk with pineapple juice taped to it. And what would you choose? Hell's yeah I chose the one with pineapple juice freebie.

If you buy a kilo of strawberries from the market after reaching the correct weight the vendor will throw in an extra handful, service. Or maybe you're paying for six apples, she'll give you a seventh, service. Seo-bi-suh permeates throughout all Korean businesses though, not just in the grocery store. I had the dry cleaner sew a button back onto my shirt, in addition to the blanket I had given her to dry-clean. How much did she want for the button? "Seo-bi-suh."

This week I went to the cellphone service center to get a new charger for my phone. Again. Seems like I need a new one every few months and I was pissed. The girl working there recognized me and serviced it. Guess who's not pissed anymore but in fact delighted that he got a free phone charger? Oh, and she offered me a bag of freshly popped popcorn from their popcorn machine. How random is that? I've also seen cellphone stores offering a 6-pack of ramen noodles to those who signed new plans. Sometimes if you have a long cross-country trip the bus company will provide a bottle of water for riders. Self serve coffee or ice cream is standard at nicer Korean restaurants. Health and beauty stores often give you free samples just for walking through the door.

Even at the sporting goods store: "Oh, you bought a hundred dollar backpack? Here's a menu of free stuff. What would you like?" "I'll take the pair of nice hiking socks, thanks!" Who can't use more socks?

Or how about this one: "Hey lady at the fried chicken restaurant. We just bought three chickens and a bunch of beers. You think you can service our dessert?"
"Sure, I'd be happy to."

It seems that food home delivery rewards with the most interesting freebies. The most exciting thing I got with my fried chicken was a Super Junior calendar. (Super Junior is a popular Korean boy band.) But my friends have scored much better. One friend got a badminton set with her pizza. Another, and I think is this the best, received a pet snail in a plastic cage with her pizza order.

Yes I do love seo-bi-suh. I know. It's just a marketing ploy to make customers come back. But you know what? It works. If I have to choose between giving my business to the phone center with popcorn and the one without, I'll choose the popcorn bribe every time.

Published!

I finally have gotten published! The article I wrote about skydiving appears in the March issue of Groove Korea, an English language magazine for expats in Korea. The article is reproduced in my blog post on skydiving in February. And, to top it off, I have my first official assignment from the magazine- ziplining! I will be writing about Korea's largest ziplining facility for the May issue of Groove Magazine. One can download a pdf of the magazine or simply read the articles online HERE.

Catching a Bus in Seoul

Before you read this, take a look at this VIDEO. Granted my experience was not this bad and this is Tokyo, not Seoul. But it was darn close...


At 7:23 this morning I scurried out the door in a disorganized rush. My bag over one shoulder and my smelly gym shoes in a paper bag in my left hand, and my coffee in a thermos in my right hand, I trotted down the hill outside my apartment. It's really steep. There's really no choice but to trot. Even if I wasn't late, it takes more energy to fight gravity and walk down this hill than it does to simply give in to physics. As I jog I try to slip on my gloves. Yes, it's still glove weather in Korea. This is the time of year that I become most homesick for my hometown in Virginia, where the daffodils have already bloomed and coat weather has turned to sunny warm jacket weather. In Korea we still have another good 6 weeks of winter. Last year we had a snow flurry in May; the first time I've ever seen snow in May.

7:27 I'm almost at the bus stop, but my legs can't slow down. I can't quit until I get there. Actually I'm not late; I'm early. I usually don't leave my house until 7:30 so I can catch the 7:42 bus. In recent days that commute has proven to be quite unpleasant, however. Yesterday I caught the 7:42 bus. Or, at least I tried. The bus was so jammed with people I couldn't get on. Nor could most of the other people at the 7:42 Bus Stop Club. I got to work 20 minutes late. Today is different, I'm going to be early. You know how when you commute to work, leaving just 10 minutes late can increase your commute time by 20 minutes? Similar concept here.

7:28 Perfect timing! I'm at the bus stop and the 401 & the 406 arrive just seconds after me. Mine is the 143. All the people waiting will get onto those buses leaving the 143 nice and empty. I look around and to my surprise the 7:30 Bus Stop Club looks exactly like the 7:42 Club.
The thing about Bus Stop Clubs is that the characters rarely change between buses. People have their schedules and they stick to them for the most part. The 7:30 Club should be different. But it's not. Apparently after yesterday's fiasco, everyone has had the bright idea to come early.

Yup, there's Velma. With her black thick-rimmed glasses and short fuzzy haircut she could have come straight out of the Scooby Doo cartoon except she's dyed her hair platinum blond. There's Velma's mother. And here come Talk-a-lot and her co-worker Quieter. There's Tough Guy. Red Beard. Handsome is also part of the gang, as is Tony. Tony is his real name, by the way; I actually know him. If I didn't though, he'd be Tall Guy. He's 6'3". Sometimes I wonder what nickname they've given me. Maybe it's Hot Stuff or Cute Guy. I don't' think so though. It's probably something like Marathon, or Long Commute. Since my stop is two away from the end of the line, I'm always last to get off the bus. Perhaps it's Sucks For Him.

7:33 The 143 arrives at last. It's three minutes late and the passengers look pretty distressingly squished. If I were still in America I would have resigned myself to tardiness. Having spent four years in country, however, I consider myself a semi-Korean, and my instincts have changed. But mainly I've also expended too much energy to get here early only to be late. Against all common sense the bus doors open and I make a break for it, jumping in front of the rest of the 7:30 Club members. Elbows out I charge the back door and squeeze into the crowd, pushing into people in my determination. Despite being twice my size Tony too, has joined the sardines. I suck it in, face outwards, and reach up to the door frame, standing on my tippy toes and pushing myself backwards inside the bus, allowing just enough room for the door to slide shut. "Nice move!" Tony croons with an approving smile, impressed with my moves.

With the bus at full capacity the driver still feels that it's necessary to blast the heat at full force. It's sweltering. I can't breath. I can't maneuver my arms to take off my coat or scarf. Fighting claustrophobia I take measured breaths and watch the city go by through the door window my cheek is smashed against. The bus comes to the next stop and the door slides open. Balancing on my toes I again push with all my might against the top of the door frame, fighting against the pressure that wants to pop me out of the bus like a champagne cork. No one gets off at this stop, I don't know why the driver insists on opening the door. Must be protocol. I suck in again and allow the door to slide past me, trying hard to avoid getting caught in it. I watched that happen to an old lady once. She screamed bloody murder. I have desire to make that kind of a scene.

The bus continues on its route, entering Namsan Tunnel 3- the third of three tunnels under Namsan Mountain, that sits smack in the middle of the city. Breathe, breathe. Just two more minutes until the Pressure Valve Bus Stop. Crap, there's traffic in the tunnel. I close my eyes and picture the beaches in Thailand. The heat certainly feels like I could be in Thailand. It doesn't work; I'll have to endure. Five minutes of hell later, the we reach the next stop, Myeong-dong- a shopping district with lots of upscale stores and more importantly for me, a lot of upscale store clerks who happen to be on my bus.

The door slides open and and the bus vomits humanity onto the sidewalk. Lest we get trampled Tony and I too plop out and step aside. Disheveled workers splatter out onto the sidewalk and briskly head off to work, straightening their ties and smoothing their skirts as they go. When the heaving has subsided we quickly jump back into the bowels of the groaning steel contraption before we get left behind.

The bus is still way too crowded, but at least I don't feel like I'm going to asphyxiate anymore. Just two stops later Tony and I acquire a seat and settle into our commute, none worse for the wear. Just another day in the world's second most crowded metro area- just behind Tokyo that is.

Skydiving in Korea

“What the HELL am I doing here?” I focus on the rotors of the helicopter spinning a few feet above my head. Whoop whoop whoop whoop! Korea's green mountains rise up in the distance. Just below the horizon of mountains is...“Don't look down! Concentrate on the rotors.”

Above the roar of the helicopter, the icy wind biting my face, the instructor’s voice shouts from behind. "Are you ready?" I nod my head yes, just like we practiced on the ground. Nothing. My head nods again and this time, though I muster the bravest voice possible, it still trembles, "Ye-yes, I'm ready!" Another second passes. An eternity. It’s not my life that flashes before my eyes but the sequence of events that got me to the precarious position between heaven and earth I'm in now:

-The beautiful spring afternoon at the pub when Marty and I decided we’d go sky-diving to celebrate her birthday; two other friends, Brandon and Jemma, would join us.

-The pouring rain that preempted us from diving in June. And July. And September.

-My superstitious attitude that triggered me to almost cancel and refund a fourth attempt.

-The peer pressure from friends me that persuaded me not to.

-How even that very morning the Fates seemed to be working against us.

After a three hour jaunt from Seoul, soothing sunshine, a gentle breeze, and unusually warm temps for late October heralded our arrival at the tiny airfield in Jeollabuk-do. After receiving ten minutes of instructions translated by Jemma, the Korean friend who was jumping with us and who helped organize the trip, we four friends waited on the blue tarp and watched the commotion around the tiny prop plane. Forty-five minutes later the instructor announced we couldn't use the plane.

“What?!”

"Don't worry! We take helicopter. Not as high, but okay."

Since it was in honor of her by now very belated birthday, Marty naturally went first. No rock, scissors, paper here! We snapped photos and waved as she lifted off in the helicopter. As the dive team strapped the harness on me next and reviewed the instructions, the deep thumping of helicopter rotors drifted over the field. We craned our necks, scanning the great blue expanse, but to no avail; the helicopter was that high. Suddenly a puff of blue burst out into the sky. Marty's parachute! She survived!

After a few quick photos with an ecstatic Marty, I sit gripping the bar in front of me for dear life, the world below out the open helicopter door quickly shrinks and the air temperature plummets.

"Stand up!" the instructor commands. He maneuvers me around so my feet hang out the door while he attaches himself to my harness and pulls the straps tight. "Are you ready?" he yells. Confirmed with a nod of my head, he shimmies me farther and farther out of the door. My hands brace both sides, resisting, but the instructor prevails and then my whole body is dangling outside the craft. Damn legs are too short to stand on the landing skid. The only thing keeping me from falling is the man strapped to my back. Chin up, focusing on the whooping rotors, the icy wind roars but it’s not cold; cold is the last thing on my mind.

"Are you ready?"

"Ye-yes. I'm ready!"

My grip on the shoulder straps tightens and for the first time I acknowledge the ground almost two miles below me. The instructor grabs my forehead and pulls it back up where it's supposed to be. Finally it starts.

The thumping copter fades away. There's no drop of the stomach like on a roller coaster. It's just...falling. Faster, faster, faster. Brown fields rush up to meet us. The roaring wind deafens. Cheeks flap and lungs struggle to breathe. It’s so fast they can't even scream. As if to make up for it one continuous thought goes through my mind: "Ahhhhhh!" A tap on my shoulder signals to raise my arms. They lift without a thought. We plunge onward. “Will this stop?! Oh my god it’s LOUD.” Rapidly gulping the arctic wind I begin to hyperventilate in a panic. “Calm. Down!” Suddenly the sound of a whipping flag in the wind slices through the roar. The view jerks from the brown fields back out to the mountains. Instant calm. Relief. A silent moment of thanks.

"Are you okay?” the instructor exclaims in my ear. “It is fun?"

"Amazing!" My thumb pops up for added emphasis. Five peaceful minutes later friends below wave back. We skid to a landing. Pure. Elation.