Saturday, September 6, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Return of the Pupdates: Lucky Lotto
As evidenced by our adventures with Annie, Justin and I are suckers for dogs. We are simply happier when we have a dog in our life. After Annie's adoption (you can see the Animal Rescue forum confirmation here, along with a picture in which I very poorly MS-Painted out Annie's terrifying redeye) we found ourselves dogless. Fortunately (well, unfortunately, I guess) we may be dogless, but Korea sure isn't.
So say hello to School of ROK's new puppy (or "kangaji," as the locals are wont to say): Lotto!
She's a tiny 8-year-old Shi-Tzu/Yorkie mix, which I guess makes her a Shorkie, because it's less rude than combining them the other way. And this picture is very old - we have to take her to get groomed this weekend because her fur grew in with her old foster parents and boy howdy, does she have some matting issues. Unfortunately, the flash is broken on Justin's camera and we'll have to wait for the weekend when we can photograph her in daylight.
Anyway, it's good to have a dog again, even if she pees on the floor, tries to sneak into bed at night, and refuses to keep walking with me while Justin goes into the bakery to pick up a baguette to go with dinner. Seriously, she wouldn't budge. You could tell she was thinking, "Look, you may be so dumb that you forgot we had another person when we started this walk, but I remember him, and we're not going anywhere until he gets back." It's kind of touching, actually, although it does put a cramp in my plans to abandon him willfully at the dry cleaner...
PS. The good thing about teaching more than one section of the same grade? Double the bang for your lesson-plan buck. The bad thing? 32 rough drafts to read in two days last weekend, about to become 32 final drafts to grade tomorrow. And did I mention that I'm somehow now assistant-teaching first grade art? Stay tuned to find out if I live until October...
So say hello to School of ROK's new puppy (or "kangaji," as the locals are wont to say): Lotto!
She's a tiny 8-year-old Shi-Tzu/Yorkie mix, which I guess makes her a Shorkie, because it's less rude than combining them the other way. And this picture is very old - we have to take her to get groomed this weekend because her fur grew in with her old foster parents and boy howdy, does she have some matting issues. Unfortunately, the flash is broken on Justin's camera and we'll have to wait for the weekend when we can photograph her in daylight.
Anyway, it's good to have a dog again, even if she pees on the floor, tries to sneak into bed at night, and refuses to keep walking with me while Justin goes into the bakery to pick up a baguette to go with dinner. Seriously, she wouldn't budge. You could tell she was thinking, "Look, you may be so dumb that you forgot we had another person when we started this walk, but I remember him, and we're not going anywhere until he gets back." It's kind of touching, actually, although it does put a cramp in my plans to abandon him willfully at the dry cleaner...
PS. The good thing about teaching more than one section of the same grade? Double the bang for your lesson-plan buck. The bad thing? 32 rough drafts to read in two days last weekend, about to become 32 final drafts to grade tomorrow. And did I mention that I'm somehow now assistant-teaching first grade art? Stay tuned to find out if I live until October...
Monday, September 1, 2008
Travelocity!
I got an e-mail from my mother today. It read:
"Ever notice your resemblance to the roaming gnome? Well, we did!"
To which I can only reply, as I have for many years now: Dignity. Always dignity.
[Edit: As per Mom's request, Photoshop credit goes to my sister Jackie, the patron saint of using her powers for evil]
"Ever notice your resemblance to the roaming gnome? Well, we did!"
To which I can only reply, as I have for many years now: Dignity. Always dignity.
[Edit: As per Mom's request, Photoshop credit goes to my sister Jackie, the patron saint of using her powers for evil]
Friday, August 29, 2008
Beijing: Lama Temple and Dongyue Temple
(This is part of a series of posts on our trip to China last June. We'll be posting for the first several weeks of the school year.)
During our time in Beijing, we visited two major temples, in addition to the Temple of Heaven (previous post): Dongyue Temple, a vaguely Taoist shrine in one of Beijing's biggest business districts, and Lama Tempe, a Tibetan Buddhist lamasery on the northeastern edge of Beijing.
Dongyue Temple
Dongyue Temple, founded during the Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368), is the largest temple of the Zhengyi Dao school of Taoism. In the early part of the Zhengyi Dao movement, practitioners were best known for peddling talismans and prayer tablets like those shown below.
Zhengyi Dao is a very old sect, and Dongyue an old temple, which is easy to tell from a quick stroll around the grounds. The place is littered with steles (inscribed stone tablets) from the Yuan Dynasty and later.
Eventually, though, like most Taoist sects, Zhengyi Dao was absorbed into the religion of the imperial court, and that's where the fun begins. The imperial religion of China is CRAZY. (See previous post on the Temple of Heaven.) Basically, the emperor and his cronies decided that they loved their overbearing earthly bureaucracy so much, they wanted to take it with them into the afterlife. So they carved heaven into a bunch of departments, each tasked with regulating some aspect of heavenly business.
And Dongyue Temple includes a statuary shrine to each and every one of them.
Some of the departments are not terribly surprising, merely the predictable marriage of a bureaucratic world view to the standard polytheistic fare. For example, the Department of Forest Deities, depicted below:
The departmental shrines, however, quickly veer off into the goofy, the gory, the terrifying, and the downright arcane.
Behold, the Retribution Department, a paean to poetic justice, featuring . . .
. . . a liar having his tongue cut out . . .
. . . a thief with his hands lopped off . . . a (surprisingly thin) glutton with his guts spilling out . . .
. . . and, of course, an unspecified ne'er-do-well being hanged.
Other gruesome departments include the Department of Suffering, represented by a sick young man and a starving bum . . .
. . . and the Department for Implementing 15 Kinds of Violent Death, which appear to include beheading and drowning (below).
Many of the statues in the temple are surprisingly expressive, despite being covered with dust. Take, for example, this wily fellow, from the Department for the Suppression of Schemes.
My overall favorite display, though, was probably the Department for the Prevention of Obscene Acts. Not only does it feature an apparent prostitute trying to entice a potential customer with a flash of skin . . .
. . . it also has a creepy, toothless old man leering at her from several feet away.
Clearly, someone put considerable time and effort into these displays, and for that I can only thank them, whoever they are. Especially considering that the departments shown here only scratch the surface of the dozens of displays on the Dongyue Temple grounds. Just a sampling of the deliciously bizarre corners of heaven not depicted here:
The Death and Life Department
The Department of Resurrection
The Insect Birth Department
The Mammal Birth Department
The Evidence Department for Issuing Warrants
The Department of Controlling Bullying and Cheating
The Door God Department
The Jaundice Department
The Department of Pity and Sympathy
The Department of Signing Documents
The Signature Department (by this point, even the Taoists were beginning to lose track)
The Department for Three-Month-Long Meditation
The Toxicant Department (which had, by far, the most donation of any shrine in the place)
Lama Temple
In addition to Dongyue Temple, we also visited Lama Temple, the main site for the practice of Tibetan Buddhism in Beijing.
The story of exactly how Tibetan Buddhism got to Beijing is an interesting one. During its early, missionary period, Tibetan Buddhism spread among the peoples along China's Western and Northern edges, while more traditionally Chinese strains of Buddhism, such as Chan ("Zen"), dominated within China's borders. One of the places Tibetan Buddhism took hold was Mongolia, so that when the Mongolian Yuan Dynasty (see above) conquered China, it brought Tibetan Buddhism with it. The same happened again several centuries later with the Manchu (Manchurian) Qing Dynasty, and it is this later invasion we can thank for Lama Temple as it stands today.
Lama Temple was built in 1694, during the early years of the Qing Dynasty, and originally served as a residence for court eunuchs. It was converted to a lamasery shortly thereafter, and granted permission to use the signature yellow roofing of the imperial house after an emperor was buried there in 1735.
The temple is a blend of Han Chinese and Tibetan architecture, providing for some stunning little nooks and crannies utterly unlike anything else found in Beijing.
Unfortunately, photographs are prohibited in the worship spaces, which house enormous statues of the Buddha and look like something straight out of a classic kung fu film. These exterior shots should give some idea of the structure.
And yes, if you couldn't tell already, our visit was blessed by some afternoon rain. Not only did it take the edge off the day's heat, it also lent some welcome atmosphere to the scene.
Stay tuned for more shenanigans!
During our time in Beijing, we visited two major temples, in addition to the Temple of Heaven (previous post): Dongyue Temple, a vaguely Taoist shrine in one of Beijing's biggest business districts, and Lama Tempe, a Tibetan Buddhist lamasery on the northeastern edge of Beijing.
Dongyue Temple
Dongyue Temple, founded during the Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368), is the largest temple of the Zhengyi Dao school of Taoism. In the early part of the Zhengyi Dao movement, practitioners were best known for peddling talismans and prayer tablets like those shown below.
Zhengyi Dao is a very old sect, and Dongyue an old temple, which is easy to tell from a quick stroll around the grounds. The place is littered with steles (inscribed stone tablets) from the Yuan Dynasty and later.
Eventually, though, like most Taoist sects, Zhengyi Dao was absorbed into the religion of the imperial court, and that's where the fun begins. The imperial religion of China is CRAZY. (See previous post on the Temple of Heaven.) Basically, the emperor and his cronies decided that they loved their overbearing earthly bureaucracy so much, they wanted to take it with them into the afterlife. So they carved heaven into a bunch of departments, each tasked with regulating some aspect of heavenly business.And Dongyue Temple includes a statuary shrine to each and every one of them.
Some of the departments are not terribly surprising, merely the predictable marriage of a bureaucratic world view to the standard polytheistic fare. For example, the Department of Forest Deities, depicted below:
The departmental shrines, however, quickly veer off into the goofy, the gory, the terrifying, and the downright arcane.
Behold, the Retribution Department, a paean to poetic justice, featuring . . .
. . . a liar having his tongue cut out . . .
. . . a thief with his hands lopped off . . . a (surprisingly thin) glutton with his guts spilling out . . .
. . . and, of course, an unspecified ne'er-do-well being hanged.Other gruesome departments include the Department of Suffering, represented by a sick young man and a starving bum . . .
. . . and the Department for Implementing 15 Kinds of Violent Death, which appear to include beheading and drowning (below).
Many of the statues in the temple are surprisingly expressive, despite being covered with dust. Take, for example, this wily fellow, from the Department for the Suppression of Schemes.
My overall favorite display, though, was probably the Department for the Prevention of Obscene Acts. Not only does it feature an apparent prostitute trying to entice a potential customer with a flash of skin . . .
. . . it also has a creepy, toothless old man leering at her from several feet away.
Clearly, someone put considerable time and effort into these displays, and for that I can only thank them, whoever they are. Especially considering that the departments shown here only scratch the surface of the dozens of displays on the Dongyue Temple grounds. Just a sampling of the deliciously bizarre corners of heaven not depicted here:The Death and Life Department
The Department of Resurrection
The Insect Birth Department
The Mammal Birth Department
The Evidence Department for Issuing Warrants
The Department of Controlling Bullying and Cheating
The Door God Department
The Jaundice Department
The Department of Pity and Sympathy
The Department of Signing Documents
The Signature Department (by this point, even the Taoists were beginning to lose track)
The Department for Three-Month-Long Meditation
The Toxicant Department (which had, by far, the most donation of any shrine in the place)
Lama Temple
In addition to Dongyue Temple, we also visited Lama Temple, the main site for the practice of Tibetan Buddhism in Beijing.
The story of exactly how Tibetan Buddhism got to Beijing is an interesting one. During its early, missionary period, Tibetan Buddhism spread among the peoples along China's Western and Northern edges, while more traditionally Chinese strains of Buddhism, such as Chan ("Zen"), dominated within China's borders. One of the places Tibetan Buddhism took hold was Mongolia, so that when the Mongolian Yuan Dynasty (see above) conquered China, it brought Tibetan Buddhism with it. The same happened again several centuries later with the Manchu (Manchurian) Qing Dynasty, and it is this later invasion we can thank for Lama Temple as it stands today.
Lama Temple was built in 1694, during the early years of the Qing Dynasty, and originally served as a residence for court eunuchs. It was converted to a lamasery shortly thereafter, and granted permission to use the signature yellow roofing of the imperial house after an emperor was buried there in 1735.
The temple is a blend of Han Chinese and Tibetan architecture, providing for some stunning little nooks and crannies utterly unlike anything else found in Beijing.
Unfortunately, photographs are prohibited in the worship spaces, which house enormous statues of the Buddha and look like something straight out of a classic kung fu film. These exterior shots should give some idea of the structure.
And yes, if you couldn't tell already, our visit was blessed by some afternoon rain. Not only did it take the edge off the day's heat, it also lent some welcome atmosphere to the scene.
Stay tuned for more shenanigans!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
OMGHOLYCRAP Part IV: Time to pre-order!
A number of people have asked me lately when "my" romance novel - AKA Carla Kelly's novel featuring a protagonist named after yours truly - is coming out (for the complete backstory on this forthcoming novel, see OMGHOLYCRAP, OMGHOLYCRAP Part II, and OMGHOLYCRAP Part III).
The good news is that courtesy of a post by Carla Kelly on Likesbooks.com, we now have a release date: January 1 2009! The bad news is that the book has a new title: from Worthy, which I liked immensely, to Marrying the Captain, which I do not. Not to judge - I am, after all, somebody who bought and enjoyed a book called Secrets of a Pregnant Princess - but I feel like Marrying the Captain is a harder sell to the average reader.
But you, dear blog followers, are not by any means average! You will not miss out on this fabulous book by a fantastic author! You will pre-order this book from Amazon.com! Right now, before you forget. No, really, click on that link. It's a direct link to the page for this book. Couldn't be easier. And it's only $5.99! You can't even see a movie for that anymore!
I now leave you with this teaser from Ms. Kelly on Likesbooks:
There you have it: Only an idiot would resist Nana. And Nana is telling you: buy this book!
The good news is that courtesy of a post by Carla Kelly on Likesbooks.com, we now have a release date: January 1 2009! The bad news is that the book has a new title: from Worthy, which I liked immensely, to Marrying the Captain, which I do not. Not to judge - I am, after all, somebody who bought and enjoyed a book called Secrets of a Pregnant Princess - but I feel like Marrying the Captain is a harder sell to the average reader.
But you, dear blog followers, are not by any means average! You will not miss out on this fabulous book by a fantastic author! You will pre-order this book from Amazon.com! Right now, before you forget. No, really, click on that link. It's a direct link to the page for this book. Couldn't be easier. And it's only $5.99! You can't even see a movie for that anymore!
I now leave you with this teaser from Ms. Kelly on Likesbooks:
A captain in the Channel Fleet comes to stay at the Mulberry Inn, a shabby little place down on its luck, while his frigate is in drydocks. Captain Oliver Worthy quickly discovers that Eleanor Massie (a.k.a. Nana), the innkeep's granddaughter, just might be the one. He never thought to marry, because his job is so tough and so dangerous. But there is Nana, and only an idiot would resist.
There you have it: Only an idiot would resist Nana. And Nana is telling you: buy this book!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Beijing: The Great Wall
(This is part of a series of posts on our trip to China last June. We'll be posting for the first several weeks of the school year.)
I think it's safe to say that, when most Americans think of China, they think of the Great Wall (or pandas, maybe--that seems to be the other Chinese-takeout cliche). And rightfully so--the Wall is both a monument to China's long history and an amazing feat of engineering, well deserving of its inclusion on the UNESCO World Heritage list. What most people don't know is that there have been several "Great Walls" throughout Chinese history, the most famous of which was constructed by the Qin emperor Shi Huang (yes, the terracotta warrior guy--more on them later) in the late 2nd century B.C. Most of what survives as the "Great Wall" today dates from the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), including the section of the wall that we visited, at Jingshanling, just outside of Beijing.
There is an ongoing debate among tour guide writers as to which is the best spot for viewing the Great Wall. Badaling is probably the most popular spot, thanks in part to its strategic spot at one of the major northern routes out of Beijing and in part to Richard Nixon's visit during his trip to China in 1972. In fact, Badaling will serve as the finish line for an Olympic cycling event during this summer's Games, and today the enormous Badaling Expressway still runs through the narrow valley the fortifications there were built to protect.
Southwest of Badaling lies Jingshanling, another narrow pass leading north. Jingshanling has an advantage over Badaling in that it really showcases the tenacity of its Chinese builders in their effort to leave no slope unguarded, no matter how steep. On the other hand, Jingshanling is a brutal little hike, with its highest guard tower perched at over 3,000 feet above sea level.
And Nana and I did it, 1.5 hours straight up and half an hour straight down, in the August haze and heat. No wonder people tell me I'm the dumbest smart guy they know.
Anyway. The Jingshanling hike starts at an elaborate gatehouse that stands alongside a mountain stream.
And from there, the wall goes up. And up and up. The photo below is about 1/6-1/5 of the way to the top.
And the photo below records the first time, about 1/4 of the way up, that we considered turning back. But let it be known that I married one tough woman--after a short breather, we pressed on.
As you can tell from the photo below, this section of the Wall has been heavily restored. Some prefer the more ruined-looking spots, but the two of us enjoyed seeing the Wall as it would have looked when it was an active fortification. To each his own, I suppose.
And as you can tell from this photo, the Great Wall (or at least the sections near Beijing) run through some very rugged mountains, specifically the mountains on the northern edge of China's coastal plain. For some reason I had imagined the Wall standing monolithic in the wasteland . . . though I'm told there are spots like that, too, only much further to the west. Not that I'm complaining, seeing as I got some superb photos out of the deal.
The wall itself wasn't the only attraction, however. This lizard had made a home of one of the guard towers--and we would have missed him if it wasn't for Nana's sharp eye.
The odd sense of camaraderie among visitors to Jingshanling was also a highlight of the trip. We kept leapfrogging a handful of the same groups as we climbed--Chinese, American students, French pensioners, Saudi Arabians (I think)--all of us offering encouragements in whatever languages we knew. Nana's Chinese was an especially big hit here--she even had the chance to help one of the Saudi Arabian tourists try to haggle for a souvenir. The photo below was taken by a couple of French retirees we met on the climb.
Last but not least: the views from the top. From this point, the wall turns back towards the valley, and thus downhill, to the gatehouse about 1,000 feet below.
Whew!
I think it's safe to say that, when most Americans think of China, they think of the Great Wall (or pandas, maybe--that seems to be the other Chinese-takeout cliche). And rightfully so--the Wall is both a monument to China's long history and an amazing feat of engineering, well deserving of its inclusion on the UNESCO World Heritage list. What most people don't know is that there have been several "Great Walls" throughout Chinese history, the most famous of which was constructed by the Qin emperor Shi Huang (yes, the terracotta warrior guy--more on them later) in the late 2nd century B.C. Most of what survives as the "Great Wall" today dates from the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), including the section of the wall that we visited, at Jingshanling, just outside of Beijing.
There is an ongoing debate among tour guide writers as to which is the best spot for viewing the Great Wall. Badaling is probably the most popular spot, thanks in part to its strategic spot at one of the major northern routes out of Beijing and in part to Richard Nixon's visit during his trip to China in 1972. In fact, Badaling will serve as the finish line for an Olympic cycling event during this summer's Games, and today the enormous Badaling Expressway still runs through the narrow valley the fortifications there were built to protect.Southwest of Badaling lies Jingshanling, another narrow pass leading north. Jingshanling has an advantage over Badaling in that it really showcases the tenacity of its Chinese builders in their effort to leave no slope unguarded, no matter how steep. On the other hand, Jingshanling is a brutal little hike, with its highest guard tower perched at over 3,000 feet above sea level.
And Nana and I did it, 1.5 hours straight up and half an hour straight down, in the August haze and heat. No wonder people tell me I'm the dumbest smart guy they know.
Anyway. The Jingshanling hike starts at an elaborate gatehouse that stands alongside a mountain stream.
And from there, the wall goes up. And up and up. The photo below is about 1/6-1/5 of the way to the top.
And the photo below records the first time, about 1/4 of the way up, that we considered turning back. But let it be known that I married one tough woman--after a short breather, we pressed on.
As you can tell from the photo below, this section of the Wall has been heavily restored. Some prefer the more ruined-looking spots, but the two of us enjoyed seeing the Wall as it would have looked when it was an active fortification. To each his own, I suppose.
And as you can tell from this photo, the Great Wall (or at least the sections near Beijing) run through some very rugged mountains, specifically the mountains on the northern edge of China's coastal plain. For some reason I had imagined the Wall standing monolithic in the wasteland . . . though I'm told there are spots like that, too, only much further to the west. Not that I'm complaining, seeing as I got some superb photos out of the deal.
The wall itself wasn't the only attraction, however. This lizard had made a home of one of the guard towers--and we would have missed him if it wasn't for Nana's sharp eye.
The odd sense of camaraderie among visitors to Jingshanling was also a highlight of the trip. We kept leapfrogging a handful of the same groups as we climbed--Chinese, American students, French pensioners, Saudi Arabians (I think)--all of us offering encouragements in whatever languages we knew. Nana's Chinese was an especially big hit here--she even had the chance to help one of the Saudi Arabian tourists try to haggle for a souvenir. The photo below was taken by a couple of French retirees we met on the climb.
Last but not least: the views from the top. From this point, the wall turns back towards the valley, and thus downhill, to the gatehouse about 1,000 feet below.
Whew!
Whew! First Day of School
Well--after a solid week of mad preparations, the students finally arrived for the new school year today. It's amazing to me how much easier it was this year than last year. I think I speak for Nana, too, when I say that knowing a bit of what to expect--and having known ahead of time exactly what I needed to prepare--really allowed me to enjoy all the back-to-school excitement in a way I couldn't last year, what with all the rookie nerves.
Anyway: now that our classrooms are set up and the school year is off to a running start, maybe we can't finally get to some of that enormous China trip backlog . . .
Anyway: now that our classrooms are set up and the school year is off to a running start, maybe we can't finally get to some of that enormous China trip backlog . . .
Saturday, August 16, 2008
APIS Faculty & Staff Retreat
This week, we took three days and two nights out of our frantic rush to prepare for the first day of classes (Tuesday, August 19) for a trip to the Dream Mountain Retreat Center, near Danyang, in the Sobaek Mountains of North Chungcheon province. (That's just about right smack in the middle of South Korea, about a 3-hour drive from Seoul.)
At first, I wasn't thrilled about the prospects of leaving my woefully unready classroom for three days, and I was even less thrilled taking was being billed as a "camping trip" in the middle of the monsoon. It turned out, though, that we were going camping Korean-style--that is to say, in air-conditioned cabins with running hot-and-cold water, en suite bathrooms, and kitchenettes (complete with refrigerators). I'm beginning to suspect "camping" isn't the right word . . .
It also turned out that the retreat was anything but a waste of our time. Aside from the obvious opportunities to get to know new faculty (who at this point outnumber returning faculty by about a bajillion to one), we spent a lot of time developing common goals for the year, as well as some basic procedures to go with them--and in the process generated some great ideas for the first few days of class. All in all, I feel much more ready for this year than I did for last, though partly because I'm not a first-year teacher anymore, and partly because I'm no longer new to Seoul. In fact, this year people are coming to US for advice on where to shop and where or what to eat--even (gulp!) on what to say in Korean!
But most importantly, the retreat was a lot of fun. (Dr. Kim and company have done it again! See selected entries on previous trips here, here, and here.) The retreat center was perched on top of a mountain overlooking the South Han river, providing us with the spectacular alpine vista you see above. To beat the heat, we had a refreshingly chilly pool (filled from a rainwater cistern, I think) and a leisurely rafting trip through the valley below, while we watched the mountains above peeking in and out of the clouds. Like many spots in Korea (Seoraksan comes to mind), the dim weather only made the scenery more beautiful. Even my getting stung on the finger by the most enormous wasp I have ever seen--the swelling still isn't completely gone, more than 48 hours later--didn't dampen the mood too much. Though later that evening I couldn't bring myself to touch the most enormous beetle I've ever seen, which Naomi, our Japanese teacher, picked up like it warn't no thang.
. . . In other words, I learned that my coworkers are good, fun folks who know how to have a good, fun time, which leaves me with a lot of hope for this year.
Look for another China post sometime soon.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Back in Seoul: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Nana and I made it back to Seoul last night, at which point we promptly collapsed from exhaustion. The trip in a nutshell . . .
The Good: This was our shortest transpacific trip yet. Two legs (Pittsburgh-San Francisco, San Francisco-Seoul), a big flight of only ten hours, no pesky little connection at the end. As an added bonus, we actually left the airport (with all our luggage, somehow) around 6 PM, in plenty of time to catch the airport shuttle. All in all, it'd be hard to ask for more.
The Bad: We found out in San Francisco that we couldn't earn miles on our flight to Seoul. Of course, none of this was advertised in any of the fare or booking information. Watch out for this from Asiana Airlines. The number of miles involved meant it would have been worth it for use to pay a little more per ticket to be eligible for miles. This is the first time it's ever happened to us, so as you might imagine, we were quite unpleasantly surprised.
The Ugly: First, a tip for folks making an international connection through San Francisco: schedule at least a two-hour layover, possibly more, if you want good odds of making your second flight. There's no way to switch terminals at San Francisco without going back through security, which is annoying enough. Add to that the fact that check-in desks at your point of departure can no longer print boarding passes for international connections and you've got some pretty long waits. Even though our flight from Pittsburgh arrived four minutes early, we had to run about 1km to the international terminal, wait 20-25 minutes in the check-in line, produce baggage claim tickets for our luggage (which had been checked through from Pittsburgh), run to the security checkpoint, wait wait wait, then run to the gate. We made it with about 5-10 minutes to spare. And we wouldn't have, if Nana hadn't done some quick thinking in Pittsburgh: when we got new boarding passes at the gate for seats closer to the front of the plane, we turned in our old passes, which had the baggage claim tickets on the back. She actually left the jetway to get the old stubs from the gate attendant. If she hadn't, who knows where our luggage could be.
Second, I was in the country for all of 30 minutes before my first serious ajumma attack--though this time it came from a twenty-something woman just a bit too eager to get through international arrivals. We were right at the doors too the arrivals hall when, coming up from behind me, she ran over my foot with her baggage cart. Seriously: she hit me so hard my left foot was lodged under the front wheels of her cart. The rest of me, however, was not, and I fell sprawling to the floor in front of a good eight dozen onlookers. To her credit, the young woman did stop to apologize--give her ten years, though, and even that formality will be out the window. For a while there the foot looked pretty bad--a bit swollen, a bit discolored--but I'm happy to report it's doing better this morning. No real harm done, except to my hopes for a warm welcome back to Seoul!
The Good: This was our shortest transpacific trip yet. Two legs (Pittsburgh-San Francisco, San Francisco-Seoul), a big flight of only ten hours, no pesky little connection at the end. As an added bonus, we actually left the airport (with all our luggage, somehow) around 6 PM, in plenty of time to catch the airport shuttle. All in all, it'd be hard to ask for more.
The Bad: We found out in San Francisco that we couldn't earn miles on our flight to Seoul. Of course, none of this was advertised in any of the fare or booking information. Watch out for this from Asiana Airlines. The number of miles involved meant it would have been worth it for use to pay a little more per ticket to be eligible for miles. This is the first time it's ever happened to us, so as you might imagine, we were quite unpleasantly surprised.
The Ugly: First, a tip for folks making an international connection through San Francisco: schedule at least a two-hour layover, possibly more, if you want good odds of making your second flight. There's no way to switch terminals at San Francisco without going back through security, which is annoying enough. Add to that the fact that check-in desks at your point of departure can no longer print boarding passes for international connections and you've got some pretty long waits. Even though our flight from Pittsburgh arrived four minutes early, we had to run about 1km to the international terminal, wait 20-25 minutes in the check-in line, produce baggage claim tickets for our luggage (which had been checked through from Pittsburgh), run to the security checkpoint, wait wait wait, then run to the gate. We made it with about 5-10 minutes to spare. And we wouldn't have, if Nana hadn't done some quick thinking in Pittsburgh: when we got new boarding passes at the gate for seats closer to the front of the plane, we turned in our old passes, which had the baggage claim tickets on the back. She actually left the jetway to get the old stubs from the gate attendant. If she hadn't, who knows where our luggage could be.
Second, I was in the country for all of 30 minutes before my first serious ajumma attack--though this time it came from a twenty-something woman just a bit too eager to get through international arrivals. We were right at the doors too the arrivals hall when, coming up from behind me, she ran over my foot with her baggage cart. Seriously: she hit me so hard my left foot was lodged under the front wheels of her cart. The rest of me, however, was not, and I fell sprawling to the floor in front of a good eight dozen onlookers. To her credit, the young woman did stop to apologize--give her ten years, though, and even that formality will be out the window. For a while there the foot looked pretty bad--a bit swollen, a bit discolored--but I'm happy to report it's doing better this morning. No real harm done, except to my hopes for a warm welcome back to Seoul!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Annie: Pupdate the last! (But in a good way)
Annie, our dementedly wonderful scruppy (scruffy + puppy = scruppy) has been adopted! According to Tim of Animal Rescue Korea, resident champion of the dogs of Korea:
So three cheers for our little girl! We will miss her very much. A brief highlight reel of the weirdness Annie has brought into our lives: (people who dislike self-indulgent descriptions of pets may skip this section)
1. When she welcomes you home, she barks so hard she flies backwards, like a cartoon character.
2. When she goes for a walk, she's so excited that she bites her shoulder harness and you can't get it on her. You have to distract her by giving her the leash, which she then shakes around, growling ferociously, like she's trying to snap its neck.
3. If you bend down to pet her, she throws herself to the floor because she thinks you're going to hit her. Six months with us did not break this reflex. Hopefully it will fade with time.
4. Sock thieving. We never did figure out what that was about.
5. She once stole a bag of bread and hid it in her bed, but never ate it.
We intend to foster another dog this year, because there's always need over there and we're always happier when we have a dog. But there will always be a special place in our hearts, and on our blogs, for Annie.
"She was adopted by Chung Wha to a lady from the Philippines who has had dogs previously, apparently she adores Annie and they are getting along like a house on fire."
So three cheers for our little girl! We will miss her very much. A brief highlight reel of the weirdness Annie has brought into our lives: (people who dislike self-indulgent descriptions of pets may skip this section)
1. When she welcomes you home, she barks so hard she flies backwards, like a cartoon character.
2. When she goes for a walk, she's so excited that she bites her shoulder harness and you can't get it on her. You have to distract her by giving her the leash, which she then shakes around, growling ferociously, like she's trying to snap its neck.
3. If you bend down to pet her, she throws herself to the floor because she thinks you're going to hit her. Six months with us did not break this reflex. Hopefully it will fade with time.
4. Sock thieving. We never did figure out what that was about.
5. She once stole a bag of bread and hid it in her bed, but never ate it.
We intend to foster another dog this year, because there's always need over there and we're always happier when we have a dog. But there will always be a special place in our hearts, and on our blogs, for Annie.
Quick Link: Chinese Food on Slate.com
In the spirit of all our recent food posts (here, here, here, here), allow me to point you to today's Slate.com article on a newly-published cookbook of Chinese minority cooking.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Back to Seoul: Likely Hiatus
Nana and I will be making the long trip back to Seoul on Friday, and with only T-minus-two days remaining, we're running around like mad trying to see everyone and get everything done. Then, upon arriving, we immediately flit away to a three-day faculty retreat, three days before classes start for the year.
In other words, the China posts will likely be put on hold for a couple weeks. We'll return to our enormous backlog once the fall semester gets into full swing.
In other words, the China posts will likely be put on hold for a couple weeks. We'll return to our enormous backlog once the fall semester gets into full swing.
Beijing: The Olympic Games
(This is part of a series of posts on our recent trip to China. We'll be posting throughout the summer as we bum around at or near home.)
Believe it or not, the opening ceremony of the 2008 Olympic Games is only two days away--right smack in the middle of our long odyssey back to Seoul (thank heavens for Tivo). To celebrate the end of China's long wait, and to provide some upbeat counterbalance to all the negative press China's been getting these days, here's a roundup of the Olympic sights in Beijing.
First, there's the ubiquitous Olympic countdown clock. This one is on the steps of the National History Museum, which is currently closed for "renovations" (I'm told it's closed more often than it's open, the Party rewrites its history so much). As a result, this clock can be seen from almost anywhere on Tiananmen Square.
But these babies are everywhere--most major tourist sights, big department stores, a few restaurants . . . I even spotted a small one on sale for use in the home.
These fellows are also everywhere: the Fuwa, or "Friendlies," Beijing's Olympic mascots. Below you can see Nana with a four-foot Huanhuan, an anthropomorphic torch.
There are five Fuwa in all: Beibei the fish, Jingjing the panda, Huanhuan the torch, Yingying the Tibetan antelope (I see what you did there!), and Nini the swallow.
Together, their names read "Beijing huanying ni," which means "Beijing welcomes you." Each of the Fuwa is associated with a specific set of events. We can only be eternally grateful to the person who gave shooting to Jingjing the panda, because--well, see for yourself.
Each of the events also has a symbol done in the style of ancient Chinese oracle bones, which sport the oldest extant form of Chinese writing.
Nana is apparently boxing. I should watch out! (On a side note: I wonder how the Chinese and Japanese feel about Taekwondo, and not, say, Kung fu or Aikido, being included in the Olympic games.)
The centerpiece of the Beijing Games, however, is the Olympic Green, a park on the north side of town that's home to both the National Aquatics Center (aka "The Water Cube") and the National Stadium (aka "The Bird's Nest").
Both buildings are impressive feats of modern architecture and engineering. The Water Cube is an enormous open space enclosed by inflated plastic bubbles held up by a complex web of steel struts. The building has some green features: it will heat itself through the greenhouse effect in the winter and needs almost no electric lighting for daytime events. It's use of structural bubbles also makes it many times lighter than it would normally need to be, which cuts down on material use. At night, the bubbles themselves are lit with small, energy-efficient LED lights (I think--as I vaguely recall a TV special on the building telling me), causing the whole structure to glow.
The Bird's Nest is also an impressive architectural achievement. It uses a similar "chaotic" steel structure to distribute weight more efficiently, thus reducing material costs and, in the process, giving the building a pleasing facade. It's within walking distance of the Water Cube, which makes Olympic Green the only place outside of Tiananmen Sqare where you can walk between two major sights in anything less than half an hour.
The building above, which will house both foreign and domestic media during the Games, has received less fanfare. It's not hard to tell why: a looming skyscraper shaped like a torch is a bit tacky, even for Beijing. That the tower distracts from the Olympic Green beside it only makes things worse. Why not keep it low or at least low-key, like the Olympic offices behind it?
Anyway, enough kvetching. Here's a shot of Nana and me on a footbridge in front of the Bird's Nest, and then Nana with Shasha below.
Believe it or not, the opening ceremony of the 2008 Olympic Games is only two days away--right smack in the middle of our long odyssey back to Seoul (thank heavens for Tivo). To celebrate the end of China's long wait, and to provide some upbeat counterbalance to all the negative press China's been getting these days, here's a roundup of the Olympic sights in Beijing.
First, there's the ubiquitous Olympic countdown clock. This one is on the steps of the National History Museum, which is currently closed for "renovations" (I'm told it's closed more often than it's open, the Party rewrites its history so much). As a result, this clock can be seen from almost anywhere on Tiananmen Square.
But these babies are everywhere--most major tourist sights, big department stores, a few restaurants . . . I even spotted a small one on sale for use in the home.These fellows are also everywhere: the Fuwa, or "Friendlies," Beijing's Olympic mascots. Below you can see Nana with a four-foot Huanhuan, an anthropomorphic torch.
There are five Fuwa in all: Beibei the fish, Jingjing the panda, Huanhuan the torch, Yingying the Tibetan antelope (I see what you did there!), and Nini the swallow.
Together, their names read "Beijing huanying ni," which means "Beijing welcomes you." Each of the Fuwa is associated with a specific set of events. We can only be eternally grateful to the person who gave shooting to Jingjing the panda, because--well, see for yourself.
Each of the events also has a symbol done in the style of ancient Chinese oracle bones, which sport the oldest extant form of Chinese writing.
Nana is apparently boxing. I should watch out! (On a side note: I wonder how the Chinese and Japanese feel about Taekwondo, and not, say, Kung fu or Aikido, being included in the Olympic games.)The centerpiece of the Beijing Games, however, is the Olympic Green, a park on the north side of town that's home to both the National Aquatics Center (aka "The Water Cube") and the National Stadium (aka "The Bird's Nest").
Both buildings are impressive feats of modern architecture and engineering. The Water Cube is an enormous open space enclosed by inflated plastic bubbles held up by a complex web of steel struts. The building has some green features: it will heat itself through the greenhouse effect in the winter and needs almost no electric lighting for daytime events. It's use of structural bubbles also makes it many times lighter than it would normally need to be, which cuts down on material use. At night, the bubbles themselves are lit with small, energy-efficient LED lights (I think--as I vaguely recall a TV special on the building telling me), causing the whole structure to glow.
The Bird's Nest is also an impressive architectural achievement. It uses a similar "chaotic" steel structure to distribute weight more efficiently, thus reducing material costs and, in the process, giving the building a pleasing facade. It's within walking distance of the Water Cube, which makes Olympic Green the only place outside of Tiananmen Sqare where you can walk between two major sights in anything less than half an hour.
The building above, which will house both foreign and domestic media during the Games, has received less fanfare. It's not hard to tell why: a looming skyscraper shaped like a torch is a bit tacky, even for Beijing. That the tower distracts from the Olympic Green beside it only makes things worse. Why not keep it low or at least low-key, like the Olympic offices behind it?Anyway, enough kvetching. Here's a shot of Nana and me on a footbridge in front of the Bird's Nest, and then Nana with Shasha below.
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