Georgia, a love letter

I've been doing a whole bunch of waiting lately... waiting for the weeks to go by, living for the weekends, waiting for the month to be over, to my contract to end and waiting to finish this adventure and move on to the next one. People call it the itchy feet, the travel bug or such terms that really only mean restlessness. 

I can't say that I've always had it. I can't say that it's something vital of my being - this restlessness - but I have had several experiences of it, and some quite severe that disable me of being in the moment and enjoying the day for what it is. I'm sure someone has said this before, but a day waiting is a day wasted, isn't it? 

Sometimes to pass the time, while waiting, I find myself thinking back on previous years, previous adventures and previous moments of waiting. I can vividly go back to the last week I spent in Georgia, where it was a weird mixture of trying to cram as many experiences as possible through that week, but also counting down the days to go back home. I remember, back then, I was very much ready to go back home.

Thinking back on that year in Georgia usually wake really positive and warm memories and feelings in me. I will always talk about how grateful I am about having that year, about how unique the whole experience was and about how much I love that country. And I do. Georgia will always have a very dear and special space burrowed in my being, in what makes me me. It gave so much that I had never expected to get in my lifetime... it gave me more than what I thought I wanted. Never had I known myself to be as daring and as fearless as when I lived in Georgia; never had I known myself to be as stupid and naive and as desperate for the adventure I thought I wanted. 

The rawness of the place. An essence that can only gather with years of life in the wildest of places. Where modernity can't overtake history and tradition. Where the roads aren't paved and it doesn't seem to bother anyone. Where there is always room for one more - in a marshutka or at a supra. A place surrounded by endless landscape of mountains; a place where people haven't, and people don't try to control the land in order to survive, but they are able to live in the harmony among the mountains, among the valleys, the forests and the raw natural beauty of Earth. 

It's a place where your home might be missing a toilet, or a shower, but it will never be missing a table - a table overflowing with freshly made food served for every and any family and stranger alike. Where you are always welcomed, and where the people give everything they have, even what they don't have, in order to make you feel part of their household, in order to have you as a guest. 

Still, it's a place that taught me to be careful. For as welcoming and warm as the people are, you have to remember that every paradise has a secret passage for reality to creep in. This is a place where a bus driver will drive to your house to return some lose change that fell out of your pocket earlier; this is also the place where a taxi driver could get forceful on you. This is a place where I have never seen the stars shine so bright and so plain on a nightly basis; this is also the place where I fell knee deep on a Turkish toilet because it was hidden in the middle of a field, no shelter. 

This is a place that gave me a new, and very real definition for 'wine for every occasion'. It gave me wine in plastic jugs, wine in bottles, wine at supras, on the street and on school grounds; wine at beach bonfires and under the stars at ancient fortresses; wine in buses, wine from strangers; a different wine made at each different home, and Georgia, you gave me all.

You gave me a crash course on humility and acceptance; a crash course on getting to know myself, on life and on experience.

A dear friend to me wrote "Remember that there is and always will be beauty, magic and love to experience!" - And it has become a new mantra for myself. For now, three years since my Georgian experience, ti is easy to see it for all the craziness and the magic of it - I see nothing and I will take nothing more than the beauty, than the magic and than the love that I experienced there. 

Thank you, Georgia.
Can't wait to see you again. 

The Struggle is Real; Coming to Terms with Presence

I have always been plagued by thoughts.
I've always believed that the ability to think and to make sense of our surroundings, our emotions and ourselves is what propels us to the top of the evolutionary chart. I mean, it is something that sets us apart from other beings in this beautifully complex world, right?

For the most part, I enjoy thinking; I enjoy dissecting my life to the point where I try to make sense out of everything that engulfs me. As soon as something awakens a feeling in me, I stop and think about what it means, whether it's something positive or negative. Letting a feeling just take over without letting my mind be involved happens rarely. But I guess, since I've always been used to thinking, I've never really considered myself as missing out on anything. 

But I've been introduced to the world of Eckhart Tolle recently, and that has all changed.

What this man preaches is, honestly, very simple. But I'm finding it extremely hard to truly put it into action. And that makes perfect sense - I'm trying to make sense, again, out of something that doesn't need to, out of something that simply means to be.

Last weekend we attempted our 9th mountain in Korea, and something struck me while on our hike out. We passed by a temple on the way up, and even though I have seen plenty of temples in Korean (and China) I couldn't help but to stop and wander around for a bit.
You see, here's what happens. After seeing so many of, what I consider to be, the same thing, you can't help but to lose interest. How many times have I heard others, as well as myself say "You've seen one temple, you've seen them all" and totally meaning it? 

But there was something different about this time. Nothing necessarily about the temple stood out; it was beautiful and humble, like most are. But something struck me while wandering around; something that hasn't struck me in a really long time. 

I'm currently living in Asia. Right now. The abundance of temples is something that doesn't exist back home, not like this anyway. And then I pushed the thought out of my mind, and I stopped thinking all together and just was. 

It wasn't easy, you see... sometimes I catch myself thinking of the most insignificant things like my socks not matching my shoes, or the fact that I need to sweep the apartment, or going through countless of unnecessary to-do lists 24/7. I'm so accustomed to thinking that even now I am trying to make sense of this new 'stop thinking' deal. It honestly beats the whole purpose.

But for a couple of minutes I got it. And I had never really felt so peaceful and content. I just observed and I felt without a thought. And I realized that by not thinking, I allowed myself to truly feel what it's like to be a part of this beautifully complex world. We don't have to be looking for meaning, it's already there - you just have to let it happen.

I'm still very unsure of how to truly live my life with this new concept of presence. Even right now, as I understand how unnecessary it is to dwell on it and try to make sense of it, I struggle. I understand what it is. I get it. But it's so difficult. Still, I'd love to be able to live like this more consciously.

I know that I'll never stop thinking. About the future, about what bothers me, about what makes me happy, about what I want, about it all. But I'd like to feel more. I'd like to be more aware of just feeling, of just being.

The Korean Mountain Challenge pt 3

Welp, I have learned that Korea is one of those places with really, really hot summers and insanely cold winters with only a brief in-between period of bliss between those two. October was fall, and just when I thought life was beautiful, November came.

I realize I complain a lot about the weather. I need to work on that.

It's only the second of November, and it is cold. And I mean cold as in wear three pairs of socks, let the hot water run so that the steam warms up the house kinda cold. Cold weather I can prepare for, but I wasn't ready... it just came.

But fall... well, fall was lovely, and maybe I'll get to see little flickers of it here and there before we get to full-on-winter-mode. October... well, let's say Fall was lovely with it's colors, and lovely with it's perfect all-you-need-is-a-light-jacket weather. And it was lovely for hikes.

One of my favorite things about living in South Korea is the hiking I've been able to do. I can't really express clearly how much hiking and getting out to a mountain means to me - I never really feel quite as at peace and as accomplished as when I'm up that mountain. It arguably is one of few things that give my life meaning and purpose. Every weekend we were able to get out to a new mountain and make the most of of the weekends. Each of these mountains had its own little quirk and personality, it's own challenge and each offered a beautiful view and escape from the busy, busy, Seoul city. And although I am able to recall each of these hikes clearly as individual adventures, they all had some things in common as well:

* We kept falling behind from the mad crowds of speedy adjumas (old ladies) and ahjussis (old men) all pimped out in their hiking clothes, looking ready to take on the Hillary step on Everest.
* We had the misfortune of not getting out on a single clear day - most of our views were clouded with mist, pollution or a bit of both [sad times but I will not stop until I get that]
*People say hi. People offer food and people have struck up conversation. We have made friends on every single one of those hikes. 

So, in October, there were four mountains I haven't written about yet. Mountains 5 to 8 out of my 10 mountain challenges...

5) Daemosan aka Little Hill Repose 

Height: 293m

Date: 10/08/2016

This was the weekend right after Jirisan and my body was still a bit tattered and tired from that hike. We opted for a smaller mountain, walking distance to my boyfriend's apartment in order to take it a little bit easy. When we started walking, the day was beautiful and it promised to be a clear day. In fact, it really didn't' get cloudy and smoggy until we got to the summit. The whole hike itself took less than two hours. We went at a nice pace with no need of stopping to rest. There were quite a few other hikers around on the way up, but it got quieter on the way down. It has been one of the most relaxing hikes so far. 

Also, this mountain is part of the Seoul Walk... a trail that surrounds Seoul. I really don't know much about it but I have seen signs on random parts of the city telling me that I'm walking on part of the Seoul walk. 

6) Yongmunsan aka Another Lesson on Preparing for a Big Hike

Height: 1005m (did not summit)

Date: 10/15/2016

Yongmunsan is best known for it's temple which offers a temple stay. It is also known for it's incredible 1000 year old Ginko tree. The mountain is about an hour away on the subway, and it actually takes you outside of Seoul city limits, and even the outskirts of Seoul's city limits.

We had originally planned to leave early in order to make the most out of the day and to not be rushing down the mountain late (After Nogodan... I refused to make the same mistake)... but as it turns out, we slept it an extra 30 minutes and we ended up waiting another 30 for the subway. And oh boy... that hour made the difference.
We met a nice man on the subway who was on his way to visit his wive's grave since it was their anniversary. He was also someone who was a Corporal in the Korean Army back in his day. And someone who walked faster than any man his age should. He walked us to the bus stop after getting off the subway which took us to the base of the mountain.
There's a park and museum at the base on the mountain, and the temple is not far from where you start. That was where most of the crowds were - by the tree and by the temple. Once you turned into the mountain trail it got quiet real fast. We saw a monk pass us by - leaping gracefully through the rocks with his arms on his back. We saw him further up ahead sitting on a rock and enjoying the sounds of the mountain and the stream. I learned a lot from that glimpse of the monk on a rock about what I would want my life ideally to be.
You see, I like to hike because of the fact of the being so close to nature. I realize that this is extremely cliche, but it's true. I have also learned to love the sense of achievement that comes after each summit. There is a bit of vanity in it, isn't there? But after seeing the monk I thought about how for him, it probably isn't about making it to the top... it probably just is to find the perfect place to think and be, and nothing more. I have to admit that I'm nowhere near - if I'm hiking up a mountain, I will take in the sights, the smells and the breeze and the silence. I will absolutely take it all in. But I will only slow down when I tire... I will push myself to make it to that summit. There has to be a balance, somewhere, no?

This hike was particularly challenging, not only because of it's height, but because the trail got insanely steep for the last 400m and nothing but rocks. They put on ropes to hold on to on the way up, but the fact that you're dangling off the mountain remains the same. 

As we approached the peak we realized that the summit itself was closed because there is weather station there. There are other peaks you can get to, but we were running out of time (time, time, TIME!!!) and we had already pushed past our turnaround time. We got stopped by a couple who offered us a white, alcoholic drink and mandarins who suggested we shouldn't push it further and to make our way down (once we finished the drinks and the mandarins). We lost them shortly after we started to make our way down. 

The day was very cloudy and smoggy, but this was the first hike where we were able to get a glimpse of our first fall colors of the year! 

7) Yebonsan aka Stepping in the Steep! 

Height: 683m

Date: 10/22/2016

So far this little mountain on the outskirts of Seoul turned out to be the steepest mountain we have hiked as well as the fastest. But also the most crowded. And para gliders!
We prepared a little picnic to enjoy at the top for this one, but the summit ended up being insanely crowded. In fact, throughout the whole hike we kept passing hoards of hikers, mostly older Korean groups who gathered at the top to take a massive group picture. There wasn't a single space available at the top to enjoy. I suppose living in such a large city makes people get used to always being surrounded by people. I usually consider mountains and hiking a way to get away from the crowds of the city, but not in Korea, not in this particular day. It is, I suppose the national pastime. 

8) Geomasan aka A Trail through Halloween Town

Height: 657m

Date: 10/27/2016

This is the latest hike we had done... and possibly the last until we get some decent winter clothing. Most of the trail up this mountain were stairs, but that is its own challenge. We made more friends here... mandarins again, and peanuts! And a puppy at the summit. I have often wondered how my dogs would fair on a hike...
This was quieter that the previous week's hike. It was also way colder and the day kept threatening rain, but it never came. 

We met a nice man at the top who shared his mandarins with us. He told us about how he's taking the 100 mountain challenge - apparently a very popular Korean challenge among the older generation. I know that if staying in Korea for longer than a year was my plan, I would definitely be up for this challenge. 

We will make do with our ten Korean mountains, maybe, hopefully more. But we'll keep taking them on all over the world.

I can't wait. 

The Mountain Challenge Part 2

I've written before about the effects summer has on me. I've written how this summer in Korea has meant a lot of weekends staying in the blessed cage of air conditioned places. Thankfully, summer is finally dying out and fall it's slowly but surely coming out to reassure me that everything is going to be ok and that life is good.

I really don't like summer.

September went by quickly and although it was still a little bit too hot for my taste, I was starting to get a little too restless with doing nothing outside. From the inside of school and apartments, I could see the mountains on clear days and they were calling (love that quote). So, whatever the weather report said, it was decided to get back to those mountains and keep adding a name to the list of mountains hiked in Korea.

Mountain 3: Cheonggyesan
Date: September 25th, 2016
Elevation: 582m

The week before this hike we had some beautiful, clear days in Seoul and I was crossing my fingers that they would stick around until the weekend. There really is nothing worse than 10 hour days in the confines of a block building as you watch the beauty of the day go by, only to get out when it's dark out. I was going to hike this mountain no matter what, but I really hoped for a nice, clear day, since we haven't really had beautifully crisp days on our earlier hikes.

Well, nope. Come Friday and the smog and dust covered all of Seoul and lingered throughout the weekend and then some.

Regardless, we made our short way to Cheonggyesan on that late afternoon, for even though the day didn't promise any fabulous views, I was still going to get out and hike a mountain, and at that time, the highest mountain I had hiked.

We joined a good number of Korean hikers at the beginning of the trail, but the numbers lessened once the trail broke into two directions to two different peaks of this mountain. We opted for the higher one, and were greeted with stairs. I remember asking myself why Korea makes all of its mountains accessible by adding stairs to them. I personally feel like it makes the hike up harder, and I tire myself a lot easier with the stairs as opposed to the mountain itself. Please remember this, it's important. 
We had to take a lot of stairs since we weren't able to find any other trails (I'm sure they're there), and my calves were hurting before we even got the halfway point. When we were able to leave the stairs for a less molded trail, we were able to get our first view of the city, specially Jamsil and Gangnam, and I got a bit disappointed by the visibility of our day. God, that view was certainly something.

There are many reasons as to why I love hiking, but one of them is certainly the view. That feeling of being so high up while your feet are still on the ground is beyond superb, and there is nothing that reassures you  more of that than a view from the mountain. I don't think anything other than a mountain can allow me to feel like that.
Once you finally get on top of that mountain, there is a sense of accomplishment and pride that is also quite addicting. That ability to say "I did it!" is not for gloating purposes really, it truly is a challenge for myself to be able to do these things.
And gosh, I really don't want to stop ever.

When we reached the peak, we were once again surrounded by Korean hikers. I really don't understand how the mountain itself can feel so deserted on the way up, and then boom! Hoards, and hoards at the top. There was a line to take a picture with the rock with the height marker and there were several groups of people having picnics by the mountain edge. I really wanted to have some food there to be doing the exact same thing. But then, I realized that I had lost the cash I had carried with me in case of emergencies, and decided to head back down the same way we came up in hopes to find it lying around somewhere. It wasn't a windy day, and Koreans are known for not snatching things that aren't theirs. I wasn't able to find it, but on the way down we rushed a bit more than expected and I found my legs shaking with every step down.

It was during that climb down that I started worrying about my ability to do the next hike we had scheduled for the next weekend...

Mountain 4: Jirisan, Nogodan Peak
Date: October 2nd, 2016
Height: 1,507m

Jirisan National Park is the largest national park in Korea and it extends over three provinces. Because of this, it's a popular place to hike through the length of two or three days. They have shelters scattered along the trails that you can book online. But because we were short on time, we weren't able to do more than the one day hike. And that was enough. For the time being.
I did a lot of research in order to have a well rounded hike. Most blogs recommended the one day hike through Piagol Valley, and although that looked beautiful, it really didn't give the option to get to a peak and I really wanted that peak. So we gathered various bits of information and came up with a plan to start our hike at no later than 7am in the morning in order to get to the peak and hike down through the valley. It would mean a long day, the longest hike I had even done, but it seemed all too possible in theory and I was ecstatic for the challenge, but admittedly, I was intimidated. I didn't know if I was going to be able to do it.

We stayed in Gurye, a town that borders the southwest area of the park. We stayed at a guesthouse with a very friendly host with very limited English but very willing to help. We later learned that he used to be the president of a company that researched the Asian Bears living in the park and that his father spent 7 years building this park. He has been one of the nicest and most interesting individuals I have met while in Korea.

That Sunday we started our hike with high hopes. It seemed like it would rain, it had rained the day before, but we were reassured that there would be no rain that day, but neither would the views that this park is so famous for. But no matter, the start of the hike was very pleasant and quiet. We only passed an older Korean couple, who stopped us after the 3rd time we passed each other to share their rice cakes, coffee and cookies, and a small group of Korean men. We also noted several warning signs showing an angry bear. Yay!
About three hours into our hike, the trail became steeper and the water clearer. The waterfalls were so nice to walk alongside with, and we kept stopping for a splash here and there. Although the clouds still threatened with rain, we were getting closer to them, and I had never been that close to clouds before. I was so excited.
The hoards of Korean hikers appeared nearest to the top. A shuttle bus is available to take you up and then you get to do the remainder 300-400 meters by foot. We found one of the shelters at around this point and, although we had read that these shelters sell food, we found that there was no food to be sold, but there was a kitchen. This is where I first started to get worried. We hadn't been able to get any food before our hike (there were no stores open at the bottom that early in the morning, and we were really banking on the shelters having food). But the nice Korean couple had given us a bag of cookies, so we still hoped the next shelter would have food.
Getting to Nogodan peak was... surprisingly easy. We had read that the hike was strenuous, but maybe this was due to the fact that there were no stairs and only rocks on most of the way up. We were, at that point, very thankful for this. Again, don't forget about the stairs.
The air got a bit chilly at the peak. We couldn't see anything but precipitation, but we did it. We hiked up a 1,500m mountain, and we felt fine. Nothing hurt, I wasn't even too hungry, it all seemed wonderful and fantastic. And it was. It really was.

Until we started our way down.

We stopped to read the information regarding the trek down. We had the option to walk through part of the mountain ridge, stop at the next shelter, and then make our way down through the Piagol Valley and we estimated around 4 to 5 hours to do so. The information on the mountain claimed that this was an intermediate level hike with 'casual' patches throughout. It also claimed that for some of the trek we'd be walking down the mountain at a 36 degree angle, but that it would even out to 6 once we reached the shelter. It seemed like a challenge, but we were hyped up from reaching the peak that it seemed very possible. So a little after noon, we started our descent.
We walked through the ridge for about two hours before realizing that we were still very high up the mountain and that we were still far from the shelter.
The trail itself was very similar to the trail up - mostly rocks, wet and slippery, and although at first we were very grateful for the lack of stairs, after the fourth time I slipped I started wishing for those damned stairs. The steepness of the descent made it trickier, and we had to be very careful and we had to go at a much slower pace than what we originally thought. For a moment, I thought we were going to be pushing to make it out of the mountain by the time it got dark. It started as a small worry, something brushed aside with the thought of having time, but it increased into a subdued panic the longer we were on that mountain without really going down. This is when the lack of food and exhaustion also started to kick in.
It really didn't help that we kept getting passed by hoards of Korean hikers - mostly older men and women that rushed through those stones as if they were no big deal.
I almost lost it when my boyfriend slipped and landed with half of his body out of the edge of the mountain. But he was a trooper and kept going, and I refused to take some of that precious time to have a moment on that mountain.
The shelter, thankfully, had some food. We stocked up with some crackers and energy bars and the owner of the shelter rushed us out saying that rain was coming and that it was going to get dark soon.
We were still about 800m above sea level.
On that last push down the mountain I had several doubts about my planning abilities and I really reprimanded myself for it.
This was no joke. This was dangerous.
I guess it added to the experience. By the time we made it out of the mountain, just before dark, I had gained a new sense of respect for mountains.

I have no intentions of stopping. I look forward to the next mountain we get to. But this experience has definitely taken away some of that naivety I used to approach mountains with. Not necessarily a bad things. Just growth, isn't it?

Still, we did it. And would do it again.

She called me old

Last week, in the middle of teaching the super important difference between the 'their' and 'there', one of my students asked me a question she claimed she has been really anxious to know the answer to. 

Now, even before the question was asked, I was annoyed. Some of my students have the tendency to yell out mundane questions in order to get off topic. And I tell myself 'go, with it. They're sick of this, this is probably the only class when they can get away with this' ... but I can only go with it so far...

But then again, this girl is one of my favorites. She's smart, she's funny, and she is always outsmarting the boys in all sorts of sassy ways. Plus, she always comes with her tae kwon do uniform and black belt, which makes me have total and complete respect for the girl. She's 10, maybe 11. 

So now, to the super-mega-anxiety-inducing question: how old are you?

I remember how I was told once by someone that asking someone's age was considered rude. It's not something most people would feel comfortable answering, and it's not something people would usually question casually. The older I've gotten, the more I see how people fear their age. And I guess that makes sense. I have friends who dwell on their upcoming birthdays because of ... whatever it means, whatever that number brings. But what is that number, other than a marker to remind yourself and others of how long you've managed to succeed at living? Personally, that really is all that it means to me. 

But I understand why so many people around me get intimidated by their age.

There are so many expectations put upon us as individuals either by our parents, society, and more than anything by ourselves. We put deadlines to ourselves: "By the time I'm 20 I'll be/I'll do/I'd have done" for various reasons. Or we boost ourselves by reminding us of what we accomplished at earlier ages. I still share that story of how I placed 14th place out of 88 in a national English Language Test when I was 12. The feat in itself, I feel, is pretty fantastic, but there's just something about adding that number that just gives it a little oomph! 

And I'm not writing this out to say that it's wrong to do so. I love deadlines. They're challenging. But there is some sort of pressure to have done something by a certain age, isn't there? There are some expectations that make that number a really annoying thing to deal with. 

So back to this girl... she asked the question, and I answered truthfully.

"WHAT?!" she literally dropped her jaw
"Twenty-seven" and I wrote it out on the board because this class is terrible with numbers.
"Are you married?"
"No."
"WHAT?!" 

Now, I've had this lecture before... years ago from my Georgian co-teachers, and more recently to some of my peers back home and in the country. How could you not be married? You're getting to that point where you should be celebrating you're 3rd, 4th, 5th wedding anniversary! And honestly, these sort of comments have never really bothered me. 

But I've never gotten lectured on this topic by a tae kwon do black belt holder, 10, maybe 11 year old. 

"WHY NOT?!"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"You need to think of your age! You're old!" 
And at this point I just started laughing. She kept turning to the other students in the class and translating our conversation, but no one really seemed to share her shock and concern.
"You need to be married tomorrow!" 

Now, this was probably one of the highlights of the day. She was using correct English and she cracked me up. Every day since she asks me if I'm married yet, with genuine concern. 

I can't really say that it's a Korean thing, or a Georgian thing, or a non-Western thing, to be expected to be settled and married by [whatever age you want to insert in here]. I really feel like, even though these expectations (or maybe, if seem from another perspective, these goals) are set up by the society we live on, or by the nurture of our parents, they don't really mean anything unless we want them to, do they? Sure, we have this tendency of comparing where we are to where other people our age are in order to justify our choices.

I am grateful that I don't feel the pressure of age some other people do. I sympathize with it, but I am extremely grateful I don't carry that with me.

Honestly, it's just a number isn't it?

I'm not old. 

Island Paradise Fantasy; Check

September means one of the most important Korean holidays; Chuseok, or the closest thing to Thanksgiving that will ever be celebrated in this part of the world. I've always found it really interesting how holidays differ in each country, yet, no matter how different and unique they are, we try to understand it under what we are most familiar with. Chuseok is like Thanksgiving because, from what my students have told me, they eat a lot. And also, fun fact, wealthy people eat a lot of spam. But it also seems to be a time for the younger generation to pay respect to their elders, and other traditions I haven't really wrapped my mind around.

And I didn't stick around in order to experience it first hand. Which I wouldn't have regardless, because it really seems to be an extremely family oriented holiday. Not sure how a stranger messing up all the customs would fly. A small part of me does miss being absorbed fully in a community like I was back in Georgia, but these holidays give us long weekends and an excellent opportunity for a vacation. 

So the decision was made to finally make my island paradise fantasy come true and booked tickets to Palawan, one of over 2,000 Philippine islands. 

It has been over 10 years since I've been to a sandy beach, since I've swam in the open ocean. I have these memories of me as a child swimming under the waves with my mother, my father, but mostly with my grandfather. I remember him as a good swimmer, I remember him going deep into the ocean fishing for pretty shells because I liked them and I was always asking for more. I have very fond memories of the ocean and of the beach, so I was excited, anxious and so ready to get back there. 

We hired a boat to take us out to Honda Bay on our first day on the island. We had gotten there a little bit later than what we had anticipated, so instead of going to all of the five islands we opted for only 3 including Pambato Reef, which is station in the middle of the ocean where you can go snorkeling to see all the little fishes and the coral reef.

Now, remember how I said I was so anxious to get back to the ocean? Well, as soon as we arrived to our first stop (the reef), everything I had been holding back took over, and I just jumped right in. I saw several fishes there, and I was able to make out some of the coral reef below me. But just as quickly as I noticed these wonderful beauties of the ocean, I realized how much I couldn't see below me.

And then I started thinking of all the things that could and were possibly down there, and then I realized how deep it was and a very new sense of fear overtook me.
Now, as I wrote that I feel a little bit stupid. See, I wasn't rushing to swim back into the platform, I wasn't really panicking. It was unexpected because I had never really thought of the ocean as scary; I've seen documentaries, huge fan of Blue Planet here, and I've always been fascinated and intrigued, but I never associated the ocean with fear. And I guess it was really foolish on my part to ignore the fear that goes hand in hand with the mystery, but at that moment when I jumped into the open sea it became way too real.
I would go back to the ocean anytime, I'm not terrified, but now I have much more respect for the sea and all the creatures, seen or unseen.

Other highlights from the Honda Bay were drinking out of a coconut (seriously, island paradise fantasy, no joke), and a deserted island. I think it had something to do with the fact that we started island hopping too late, or that there was a chance of rain (but at the end of the day there was none!), but there were no people on the second island we went. The captain of our motorboat, Juju, told us he would go collect clams on the other side of the island and meet us later, so we walked around the island and realized that there was absolutely no one there. It couldn't have been more perfect.

Other than the islands, we spend a good chunk of time exploring the town; Puerto Princesa. One of the things that I noticed immediately when getting to Puerto Princesa was how tropical it is; it is lush with green, green, green everywhere. I immediately fell in love with the feel and lushness of it. There was a madness of trikes (oh my gosh, more on than later!) driving everywhere and anywhere they pleased, a madness of pimped, banana trees... and poverty. A real and raw part of the world, poverty.
But again, more on than later. Much more on that later.

Another thing that Palawan gave me was the chance to get to see wildlife close and personal. We took a trip to one of the 7 Natural Wonders of the Earth (or chosen back in 2011), the Subterranean River; an insane collection of caves, a house of bats and just hands down, a total beauty. I can't really wrap my mind around the size of the caves, the creativity of nature in its creations. You'd really think it's all done on purpose, seriously. And the amount of bats that dwell in there - tiny little things, just hanging. Literally, hanging off the cave's roof and walls. On the way out of the caves, we were greeted by around 4 to 5 monkeys, macaques.
After the caves we also went to a mangrove, the perfect habitat for a variety of birds, monitor lizards, snakes and possibly crocodiles (when asked, the locals literally said 'We can not answer that question').
All in all, getting to see these animals in their own habitat was one of the highlights of this trip. It was a gift I treasure, and an addicting feeling.

Palawan is very much a lovely island and I'd love to go back and see more of it. It is, however, extremely catered to tourist and at first it was something that made me really uncomfortable. However, I still felt a sense of adventure and getting to go out into the islands, into the cave, getting to explore a new and wonderful place. It was a very new and unique place for me, and a trip I am very grateful I decided to take.

We didn't spend all of our days in Palawan, however, and decided to give ourselves a day to explore the capital city of the Philippines.

There were only two things I knew about Manila:
1) It is considered one of the most dangerous cities in Asia
2) A stunning drag queen is named after the city

It was a shock getting out of the airport through doors manned with armed guards. But then, I had to remind myself that this is a country where their newest president just declared war on their drug problems by giving the authority to anyone to shoot and kill anyone who is breaking the law. There are a lot of people that believe that this is the only way to fight the drug war, since other ways have been tried before and failed. I really don't know how to feel about it, not exactly. One thing I can say for certain is that big things are in the making for this country - but for now, it's all a bit messy, a bit dangerous, a bit scary.
Manila wasn't as welcoming as Palawan, but I enjoyed the drive to our hotel, getting to see the buses, the trikes and the buildings. There's something very un-Asian about this city - it looks more Spanish than anything, and I was taken back to my dear, dear Mexican streets. Something that was also heavily present in Manila that I had grown up around was poverty.

Remember I said I would come back to this, right?

I remember beggars sitting outside of church, from the youngest you can imagine to the oldest, I remember houses that looked like dumpsters on the drive to school. It's not a pretty sight, it's heartbreaking, but it's ... part of this world. This shockingly beautiful and at the same time horrible world. I saw barefooted children in Manila; I saw a mother sleeping, cradling her toddler over a cardboard box on the sidewalk in Manila; I saw a man sleeping on top of a demolish site in Manila; I saw a family of six sleeping under a bridge in Manila. And I saw all this on the way or surrounding the nice hotel that we decided to stay in; a hotel were they opened the door for you and called you 'sir' and 'm'am', a hotel were men in fancy business suits would walk in and out. And although I really have no misconceptions of how terrible poverty can be, I was really shocked by the rawness of it.

I found myself feeling guilty for being there; a very affortunate individual, lucky enough to have a job that provides the money to take a vacation to this city. I found myself feeling extremely ashamed of being there in the position I was in when comparing it to the locals. And yet, we were greeted by many people on the streets, many saying 'Welcome to Manila!", warm people. I still didn't feel completely safe, and for the first time in a really long time I was constantly conscious of where I had everything (phone, money, wallet), but it did warm me to see some of those children that I labeled 'less fortunate' to be playing and laughing and running in their own playground.

I believe it's very important to open expose yourself to everything this world has to offer: from its natural beauties to all the wonders we, as a human race have created;  I believe it's important to be aware of our world. Manila gave me a lot to think about and for that I'm grateful. Manila was both a refreshing unasian-while-still-in-Asia trip and an unexpected punch in the gut. Manila was both harsh and incredibly welcoming. Manila was nothing I expected. Manila reminded me that traveling isn't always pretty, isn't always catered, and in fact, it's not supposed to be. And although the sights aren't always breath taking on the road, I never want to stop. 

Keeping it Real, or What I do, or Surviving the Heat, or whatever fits

With the end of August, comes the end of one of the most trying times of the year.

Summer.

Summer used to stand for something fun. It used to stand for reposing, relaxing, partying, family trips. Every single year, summer used to be what we lived for. But that was years ago, and I haven't had a summer break in... enough years to stop missing it.

It would be nice to have that break back, sure. But no, it's not because of work that summer has become the hardest time of the year for me. It isn't because it isn't really summer anymore.

It's because I can't stand the heat.

If you know me personally, you know how much I can't stand the summer heat. I complain about it on a daily basis, and I will continue to complain about it for the rest of my life. I'm just not a summer weather kind of person. And I've grown up in hot places all my life... you could argue I should get used to it.

But no. Never.

This year, South Korea was hit with their hottest summer in 106 years according to this article. And to be honest, I don't doubt it. It was absolutely terrible and I spent most of my time indoors, pumping up that AC and that electric bill. And I couldn't have survived it any other way. Getting out of the house for a five minute walk to the supermarket took a lot of preparation mentally and physically. I'm not even over reacting. I can not stand the heat and this summer was exhausting and draining.

I spent a lot of time indoors. "Living for the weekend" was put on hold and it really was just getting through it.

So not a lot of exploring. Not a lot of adventuring.
So here are some of the things I did to get through this horrid time of the year.

Reading
I read avidly regardless, but during this time my reading time increased significantly. I read a total of five books in two months - which is a recent personal best.
One of my little successes was getting through the first book in "The Wheel of Time" series, "The Eye of the World". 
I'm a fantasy freak, and I had this series recommended by several friends. They always would always warn me of how much of a commitment it was, because of how many books there were and just the length of it. They would also tell me that it's one of those series that you have to get through the first couple of books before you get to that hooked moment.
Am I hooked? Not particularly. Will I keep reading? Sure thing. I'm in need for an epic fantasy series. Could this be it? arvitsi.

Another fun one that I really enjoyed was "Anansi Boys" by Neil Gaiman. I've always really enjoyed Gaiman's books, and I would highly recommend anything that has his name in it - but I would definitely say to pick this one before any other. I always find myself giddy when I go into his worlds.

Other books I got through that I would recommend:
- The Beach by Alex Garland

- The Summer of the Ubume by Natsuhiko Kyogoku

- Neither Here nor There by Bill Bryson (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED) 

And I am currently getting through a collection of folk tales from East Asia, because, why not?

Watching

I haven't really been spending a lot of time into watching shows or movies - I never really do on my own. I usually have someone recommend me a show or a movie, or I'm being forced to watch something and then I get hooked (my brother is usually the perpetrator).
I have been watching Orange is the New Black, although it's mostly background noise. To be honest I couldn't really tell you most of the character names, although I know what's happening. Decent show, good for background noise.

Stanger things, now that was fun. A short enough series... way too short. But highly enjoyed it!

A highlight of movies that I've seen is Mongol. A fantastic Russian film about the greatest Mongol of all time, played by a Japanese actor. Honestly though, one of my favorite movies I've seen this year. 

Others

Haven't really done anything much worth saying. But then again people would comment that reading and watching isn't something worth saying, specially on a blog. But that's life - life is filled with these moments where time passes and you get to choose what to do with those moment. And a book or a good movie can be just as time worthy as an adventure in the back yard or on the other side of the world. It's what you make of it, isn't it? 

What I known and what I thought I knew

I am almost 6 months into my one year contract teaching in Korea.
Almost.
But I'm desperate to round the numbers and tell myself that I am halfway there. Halfway there is still a month away.

It's not that I want to get out. It's not like I'm ready to get out of South Korea and not look back. I am enjoying my time here; my weekends and my trips. There is a lot planned for the next couple of months and a lot more planned for when the contract is actually over: I have mountains to climb, a winter (a real cold winter!) to tackle through, and two more trips set before the year is over. It's just that weeks are long and once again I find that my job is getting the best of me.

You think you learn. I wrote about this before, about not letting a job taint your experience abroad. And everyday I remind myself to not let it happen. And maybe it's harder because it's happening at the present moment; or maybe this is just something that I am not cut out to be.

But then I remind myself of something I know and some other things I wish I could've kept in mind at the beginning of this adventure: 

1) I know that I am a good teacher.

    I know I can bond with my students, and  I know that I can do my job professionally and         enjoyably. I've done it before. 

2) The private schools in Asia (in my personal experience and from what I have gathered from other teachers) is first and foremost a business. Meaning that money will always come before education. I once had a serious conversation with a previous boss about this, about how uncomfortable it was for me to realize that my students were just dollar signs and how I didn't believe that you could form a balance between the two: the business side and the education side. He argued that he believed that these two sides of a private school could easily go hand in hand, and that I should try to see how education benefits from business and the other way around. He did admit that it was hard to achieve this balance and he'd only really seen it briefly throughout his 8+ years of teaching experience.

3) With that in mind, schools in Asia, private schools specifically, will see foreigners as an asset. Your professionalism or your experience is secondary and maybe, sometimes, if you're unlucky absolutely worthless.

4) It's all worth it. The bullshit and the stress, it really is worth it.

I decided to write this because I recently had a conversation with a good friend. She asked me if I would recommend coming to teach to Korea.

It took me a moment to answer straight away. 

I would say it's not for everybody. I would say you come to work and not necessarily to adventure 24/7. I would say everybody should give it a try. But I would say be careful. Do the research, read contracts, and be assertive.

I won't let this beat me.
Not this time.

Meditations

This is an idea I stole from a really good friend of mine, about a year ago. He used to write these "meditations" where he would just go deep into something that intrigued him, bothered him, made him curious and just wrote anything and everything that came into his mind.

Or maybe that was how I read it, but he's got more structure than I do when it comes to writing.

But that is a type of writing that I learned from him that I haven't done in a long time. A type of writing that I really enjoyed doing. I would get my little notebook and just get on with it, write anything and everything that came into my mind, and I loved it.

Lately, what I've been writing on a regular basis is my best and worst of the day, budgeting, lists of all sorts, budgeting and more budgeting. And I'm kinda disappointed by that. Back when I used to write on a daily basis, creatively and actively, I used to come up with things that I could be proud of - things I would take to other and ask them to read them over, to get critiqued over - I used to write things that would make me excited, excited to keep writing.

Gosh, it has been so long.

I am happy that I have this blog, but this isn't the place to write how I used to. This isn't where I would write my stories. And maybe that's my mistake, maybe I should get over this idea of what blogging is supposed to be, of what a blog should have and just write whatever the hell I want to write.

But it's in my notebooks. That's where I need to get back on - get over being obsessed with money and get back to my stories, get back to getting stuck in my head and writing everything out.

I once wrote about spending too much time thinking. Not a good thing, never a good thing. But one of the best 'meditations' I ever wrote. It relaxed me. Spending too much time thinking is when things stop being wonderful... it's when they stop being. I tend to over analyze any possible angle of a situation, of a theme, of an idea or of a feeling and then I ruin it. I stop feeling in the way things and experiences should be felt.

About 6 years ago I took a college class that changed my perspective and that changed my life. (Thank you, Professor Pipkin) and the most important thing that I got from that class was to let yourself be overwhelmed with emotions and know that you can experience something new everyday but those experiences stop becoming new immediately after. And that is life. But an old experience carries just as much of an emotion as a new one, if not even more. Depending on how you think about it.

I want to go back to being inspired by thoughts like that.
I'm getting back on it. 

Getting Out of Seoul Pt. 2; Crowds at the Yellow sea and a deserted City

One thing to be grateful for:
2016 was a good year to teach in Korea. 

Why? Well, there's a couple of national holidays that fell on a Friday or a Monday.
Meaning, three day weekends.

Yaaaay.

There are some things to consider when taking a trip within Korea, specially on a national holiday.

1) Everybody is going to be traveling. Everybody.
    There will be a massive migration out of Seoul and into the rest of the country. Chances 
    are that if you don't plan ahead, things will be booked; hostels, pensions, buses, you name 
    it.
2) When, and if you find somewhere free to stay, there is a huge chance that you won't find a
     quiet place - no matter where you go.
3) Most Koreans are used to the crowds. Personal space is nonexistent and your bubble
     won't be acknowledged.  

Logically speaking, I should have known all three of these points before this last weekend. I should've known.

I started researching places to go about three to maybe four weeks ago. And I couldn't find a single place to stay... everything was sold out or stupidly expensive. I was starting to think that I had waited too long to actually score anything for this precious three day weekend. But thankfully, I found a place on a city close by to one of the national parks that was on my Korean  bucket list. 

Taean National Park is a little bit over two hours away from Seoul, and it's got around 26 beaches and a bunch of beautiful eco trails. Coworkers said it was beautiful, and I really wanted to be able to get to it before it got too cold. However, nothing was open for that city, but I did find a nice and affordable place to stay in a city 20 minutes east from Taean.

Seosan is - in my own personal standards - a pretty big city with a population of over 140,ooo people. However, in compare-everything-to-Seoul-standards, BOY what a difference.

Getting off the bus (after a little bit over an hour stuck in traffic; like I said, mass migration) and walking through the city... let me see if I can encompass the shock...
- Half of the shops were closed, maybe even more than half the shops. In the middle of the day.
- There were no people. Literally. The streets were quiet, and they stayed quiet. Of course you had the odd old lady turning into the street here and there, or the couple sitting under some shade, but the lack of people was mind blowing. It was perfect.

We didn't explore much Seosan, since not much came up while researching this place. We stopped at Seosan to sleep, but our main destination was Taean. We stayed at a cheap hotel, and the young man working in that hotel (Seosan Hotel) was one of the friendliest, nicest persons I have met while being here. He was hospitable, he wanted to help and he went out of his way to make sure that we were exactly where we wanted to be. Honestly, you don't find that in a busy, each man for himself city like Seoul. Not to say that they aren't friendly, just to say that no one really seems to have the time to help.

Aside from walking around Seosan for a few and the hotel, nothing much to say about the city, except that the quiet and the peace it gave me was one of the best things about this weekend. 

Taean was a completely different story.

The park was beautiful and I really enjoyed the sea breeze and the trails. Oh, gosh the trails. The trees were so beautiful, and again - they really give you the possibility of escape and just be alone in the midst of it all. And they were everywhere. The beaches were insanely overcrowded: tents were set up all over the beaches, all over the camps, and an overwhelming amount of pensions were set throughout the entire beach side.
Now, you ought to know by now, I am not a fan of crowds.
I am also not a fan of heat. None whatsoever.
And it was hot.

If it had been just a couple of thousand degrees cooler, I would have been happy getting lost in those trails and just walking throughout the entire coast. Because surprisingly... you could get lost. You could feel alone in those trails. I could have been okay with the crowds, but the heat. The heat just killed me. In fact, the heat has been killing me all summer. 


Would I go back to Taean National Park? If 
the weather was cooler, absolutely. It is close enough to Seoul to make it a decent day trip. Would I return to Seosan? Probably not, but I would urge anyone who would ever find themselves in that little city to stay at the Seosan Hotel and meet Chan (spelling could be embarrassingly incorrect). 

Out of Order; Out of Korea

When I first started this blog, I made a conscious mental note to not let it take over my life. And thankfully, it hasn't happened - and to be honest, I feel like it would be very hard for that to actually happen. I guess what I mean is that I didn't want to let the thought of "This is blog-worthy" take over and override the moment; the moment itself of just being.

However, I have enjoyed keeping this blog. And I'm happy to be writing in it again.

It has been a month since my last post. And I wish I could say that's because I was out and about and so busy being and living. In truth, July was a month of recovery. It has been one of the hardest months I have ever gone through in a long time, and I wanted nothing more than to go home. No matter how much I dislike my job abroad or how uncomfortable and out of place I feel while living in another country, I have never felt the need to go back as strongly as I did last month.

Thankfully, it's over. August is here, and I'm back on track. Back to living, back to writing, back to the routine.

A trip outside of the country definitely helped.
Which is what I want this blog to be about.

For the first plane trip outside of South Korea, we headed towards Mongolia for five days. And it couldn't have come a better time.

 

I enjoy cities, I do. But personally, nothing compares to the vastness of land with nothing but plains, mountains, trees, sky and the absence of civilization. Cities have all the comforts I have grown used to, and true, it would be very hard to give that all up in order to live in the country, but the more I've been exposed to these kind of places, the more I believe this is where I could be the happiest.

Even in Ulaanbaatar, not necessarily a small city for my standards, but definitely smaller than Seoul - the absence of people and noise was a welcomed blessing. People walked as if they weren't rushed, people walked looking ahead and not down to their phones. Even in the capital, there was a sense of tranquility you rarely find in Seoul. Don't get me wrong, it's there, but not as obvious as in Ulaanbaatar. There wasn't an overwhelming much to do in the city; we went to the National Museum and to the Dinosaur museum where they have a full fossil of the closest relative of the Tyrannosaurs Rex - the Tarbosaurus. 

You don't go to Mongolia without appeasing your nerdy-dinosaur-geek-kiddie-but-not-really-self and go to see the dinosaur museum. You just don't. There were also a bunch of neat little restaurants and shops around the center of town. 

However, if I find myself back in Mongolia (which I fully intend to), I would not go back to the city. You don't go to Mongolia to stay in the city.

It's outside of the city where things truly get beautiful. There was a lot of Georgia that came back.

* The suicidal cows crossing highways

* Crazy AF drivers (honestly, up there with the Georgians)
* The vast absence of buildings and houses along the roads and highways
* The friendliness of people

But there was also a lot of uniqueness about Mongolia. There were yaks and camels and horses; wild horses and domesticated horses. There were birds, massive birds that would set themselves wherever they wished without worrying if there were people close by; there was sand, there were sand dunes; there was silence and there was music from an instrument made of horse hair. There were yurts on backyards, yurts on the city, yurts everywhere but never overcrowding. There were people who move, the land of the nomads, children under the age of six riding horses, there was an ancestry of the one of the most powerful conquerors that have ever lived. There was a rock shaped like a turtle; there were women monks, and there were mountain temples. The land of the big sky they call it, and boy oh boy, it truly is. 

Not enough time there. Never enough time.

Oh. And there was a Georgian food restaurant.