So, I climbed a mountain: A lesson in calming the hell down

I like expected things. I don't like surprises. There is very little I do without having already calculated the risks. I plan. A lot. I like details. So, it boggles my mind when other people don't do that. As I paraphrase the indelible BH, "It must be very difficult to live in a world where you're the only one who gives a damn about time." (Context: I was freaking out about the tardy start to my poetry show.) And, that's the thing. I get very antsy when things don't go according to plan. Now, I know I am known for my stoicism and impassivity. But, really, Mama is high maintenance. Hashtag NotThatSorryAboutItButALittleBitBecauseIAmAlwaysALittleBitSorry. 

Did I do that right?

So, back on track. When my best friend came to visit last month with giving me exactly one specific activity: hiking, I was paralysed with decision. 부산 literally means "a mountain." I planned the majority of the trip, but also left some wiggle room inbetween for naps or copious amounts of Firefly and/or Buffy. I was a pretty solid "non-weirdo-baby" for most of the trip (even when a giant SNAFU [which was actually military slang for "Situation Normal All Fucked Up," which I learned from my mother via an action-romance novel about a detective? and her devilishly handsome "partner." I am sure you can see where this is going] basically created an Asia-wide game of "Where's Whitney").

I did, however, finally find my breaking point. It oddly happened on the wrong side of a mountain ridge. But, Katie, how can you be on the "wrong" side of a mountain? Well, dear reader, I made a wrong turn on our way to 석불사 (Seokbul Sa--a super cool temple), which led us in the exact opposite direction. While we looked across the valley towards where the temple would be, I profusely apologised. I felt responsible (I was) that she was going to miss Busan's coolest temple (she did). She reassured me that it isn't the destination; it's the journey. I kicked the sand and thought, "Yeah, well, tell that to a ninth grader writing math proofs."

So, I kept apologising, because it is fact that if you apologise enough then you teleport across the mountain and reach your destination because Science. She quickly reminded me that for the first time in literal years we are in the same hemisphere, country, city, and rock for goodness sake. She told me to calm the hell down. Although, I doubt she cursed. Broad is klassy.

We continued our day as planned, which involved going to the spa and other reckless activities. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with my previous jimjilbahng shenanigans, read here.

Mmmmkay, welcome back. So, under the guise of "When in Korea" we signed up for an exfoliating scrub. I didn't warn her about any of it. I thought she'd best experience this with an open mind.

And, let me tell you. It is shocking was a middle-aged woman in a see-through star bikini can do. We started with what felt like cold guacamole* on our faces, (*did not taste like guacamole, much to my chagrin), then moved into the shucking of skin, which surprised the wee baby cells who thought they had another 3-5 days to cook before they were thrust into the full time job of keeping my muscles and bones covered up. We finished our best friend sloughing with a delightful Nutella* scented oil massage (*did not taste like Nutella...also to my chagrin).

And, I heard Whitney, who has been my friend for longer than she hasn't, laugh at this experience. After our massage finished, we showered the nuttella-not-tasting oil off, she exclaimed, "That was the best-weirdest thing I have ever had happen to me." It was in that sentence that everything came together.

"Normal" people don't care about time or schedules or plans because it really, really doesn't matter. Everything happens when and as it should. And, I am going to go absolutely crazy if I try to control things that are so far out of my grasp, it is almost laughable. Almost. But, I am going to learn to slow down. Thinking about future jumps, flips, kicks doesn't mean anything when you trip up on the next step. Calm down, Botsford. You got this.

So, we will see how it goes. I am hosting another poetry night this weekend. I am curious if this new "devil may care" attitude will translate to that, or if I will weirdo-baby and have to return to the drawing board on Monday.

So, you better check yo' self

I have been here in Korea for two years, as many of you avid bloggers learned last-ish week. Here is a list of ten things for which I am never prepared. Ergo, my reaction is usually awkward and lacking the normal grace and poise with which I carry myself. In essence, I need to check myself before I wreck myself.

1. Ajjeossis sit outside of the hospital in their pyjamas and IVs. They also drink so ju and smoke cigarettes. It just seems so counterintuitive. I have to do a double take and hide my confusion every time.

2. There is a store that is a magical place full of things you didn't know you needed. My EPIK roommate (for the first week of training), a fabulous Irish lass who is 100% cooler than I will ever be, commented, "Daiso is solid gold."

Scene: I walk into a Daiso store; I have a game plan, "okay, I need cleaning supplies, nothing else. Focus, Botsford." I leave with three sparkly ties, a garbage can shaped liked a frog, a dinosaur staple remover, chopsticks, baskets, a Nerf gun, and a Hello, Kitty alarm clock.

Then, I go home, unpack, and realize that my room is a mess. I think, "I should probably clean the floor." I rummage through the bags and find that I forgot to purchase the ONE thing I actually needed.

This happens every single time I go to Daiso. I never know if I should be angry at myself because I have the attention span of a humming bird OR excited that I have a T-Rex staple remover and a Nerf gun with which to shoot Rufio and probably my roommate.  Maybe year three will be better in this regard, but I am not hopeful.

3. Contrary to popular belief, hiking is a very communal activity. You need to bring enough to sustain yourself and at least three three other people. As you stop to take breaks, many Korean hikers will stop as well. They will share their fruit, ramyeon, and makgeolli. It is only polite to share your trail mix, protein bars, and rum. There is always an awkward moment when I have given my last tangerine to the ajjuma at the rest point before the top. Then, I have nothing for the ajjeosis at the summit who give me makgeolli, crackers, and mixed nuts. One time, I bartered English lessons. Usually, I just awkward antelope around, take photos for them, and give them the last swig of my flask. Sometimes, it is water. Most times, it's not.

4. Not much is more humbling than walking through a crowded hospital lobby carrying an uncovered Dixie cup of you own urine for a drug test. I have various levels of discomfort during this process, as evidenced by my facial expressions.

5. Dogs in jackets. I know that is a thing in the States, too. Most dogs here are the size of a chipmunk, so I suppose they need it. But, when I see Labrador and Golden retrievers in parkas, I just... I just can't....I just...don't know what to do.

6. There is a guy in my neighborhood who starts selling his wares around 7:00 in the morning. He has a blow horn and every ten seconds he says "blaaaaaah blaaaaaah." It sounds a lot like, "Taaaaaaaahhhhhhhh Cooooooooohs." Now, if someone is blowing a horn at seven a.m. selling tacos, I would run down the stairs and find him. Let's be honest, starting your day with a taco would be a complete game changer. However, he does NOT sell breakfast tacos. "What is it, Botsford, you tease?!" I don't know. I may never know. I just know my disappointment waking up to not breakfast tacos. I guess I will go eat my boring adult cereal full of flax and oats. Stupid healthy eating.

7. My entire stay here, I have been going to a orthopedic doctor for various bumps, bruises, and old age. Usually he just sends me upstairs for "physical therapy" which involves me napping while a nurse does something electrical on my body, plays a laser light show on my knee cap, and bundles me up in a heating pad. Seriously, these are the best naps ever despite being in a hospital and my body contorted into weird poses. But, my most recent trip has me splinted up with a semi-hard, removable cast. All of this is fine. However, what I absolutely do not understand is how much bandaging the nurses use. It is at least 10 yards of ace-type bandaging. There is a first down wrapped around my leg. I understand my leg is a bit big around, but really? 

I have no idea the science behind any of these procedures, but my doctor has gotten me through plenty of pretty serious scrapes, so I should trust that this is the best method (or, at the very least, a working method). He is, incidentally, also a tenor who performs for various classy events. He is pretty great.

8. Eight is still my lucky number. I received an email from my sister two days ago. All it said in the subject line was, "Kit Kat." It then went into a childhood memory of going to Sentry grocery store on Moreland Boulevard, and shopping with our mother. Every time, we would get a Kit Kat bar. Katie would get a piece, Sarah would get a piece, and Mom would get two, "Because I have to deal with you hooligans." Then, we would fight over who could sit in the front seat.

Early on, we devised a plan that on even days I would sit in the front because my favorite number was eight and my birthday was on the tenth. And, Sarah would sit in the front on odd days because her favorite number is odd (I dunno if I am allowed to impart this sensitive information), and her birthday is on the seventh. At the time, I didn't realize that more than half of the months have more odd days than even days. But, by the time I wised up, it was too late to change the system. We still followed this system this past January when I was home for a month. I did not, however, have to split a Kit Kat bar. I opted for the Butterfinger.

The point of this is a) I will never get over how much I miss my sister and b) that I still check the date every morning to see if I can sit in the front seat of my scooter.

9. I am never prepared for elevator conversations. In any country. At any time. When you walk into an elevator, children here look at you with a mix of wide eyed terror and wonder. They whisper in their mom or dad's ear, "hhhhhhello." I respond with "Hello, what is your name?" in Korean. Sometimes they answer, mostly they hide between the legs of their adult pretending I exist the same way a platypus exists in the zoo: something to be looked at and appreciated for its oddity, but never really knowing why it's there.

I am especially never prepared for the "Too Heavy" beep when you walk into a crowded elevator. You just hang your head in shame and start taking the stairs to ensure it never happens again, until it happens a week later at the same elevator with the same people. Worst. Ever.

10. Smart phones are everywhere. On the subway, when I look up from Lydia, my sassy blue and white phone, I see that everyone has their phones out messaging, playing games, or watching videos. Then, I look back at Lydia and research the statistic of smart phones vs. less than intelligent phones in Korea. I find the information I need, Instagram a photo of the subway car with the statistic in the description box (hashtag KoreaLyfe), then scroll my newsfeed and share a clever meme on a friend's timeline. Only then do I realize that I am part of the problem.

So, that was fun...

Do you all remember when I swore off Sojanta in my last message.  Psyche! I think it is a beach thing.  Back in the states, if you're on a beach and you're not drinking Corona with a lime, you've have got all kinds of crazy, my friend.  It is the same here, if you are drinking anything but Sojanta on the beach, you aughtta be slapped silly.  (However, there was some Chocovine and red and white wine intake, but not as much intake).

Anyway, the night before a public holiday for Something or Other, I toooooootally crashed a bachelorette party.  I had met about half of the women before, but I just sort of showed up with a friend.  I was holding a baguette, so all was well.

I would just like to comment about the ex-patriot community here.  It goes like this:

Me: Hi, I am Katie.  I just showed up with a Baguette.
Person: Hi, I am ______. That sounds great! Let's be best friends forever.

The expedience with which people form connections is synaptic.  People get so close so quickly.    You enter into these friendships with such vivacity that you cannot even breathe. But, it is always a waiting game.  Everyone has their expiration date.

I met a woman this weekend, we'll just call her Bear Hands for anonymity.  I had met her once or twice before, but then I randomly ran into her at Haeundae beach. Within moments, I was made into a sand mermaid, and we and a bunch of co-mingled friends, were discussing our on philosophical life views, with a hint of existentialism and a wee bit of pretension.  It takes months and years of trust, friendship, and hanging out before I usually become comfortable.  I feel like time it takes to form friendships is akin to the gestation period of Bella Swan's vampbaby, Renesme, who clawed her way out of her mother's LP.  Super weird.  But, the effect is just really fast, really serious.  I like it, but it also throws someone like me who (in a friendship sense) is a test the water before jumping in kind of kid.


And, this is what Bear Hands and I were talking about.  I had said something about not believing that this is the life I am living.  And, that I am still sort of waiting to wake  up from an incredibly awesome dream, and hopefully a cameo from Brian Littrell or Helena Bonham-Carter.

She asked me why did it have to be a dream, and this is something on which I have pondered for a great long time since this conversation.  I think it was that growing up, I was not an adventure seeker or a risk taker.  The only reason I got hurt was because I was too proud to say, "maybe going down that double black diamond my third time skiing is not such a great idea."

Now, it seems as though that I am actually living all of my childhood adventures.  I am hiking up tall mountains, swimming in blue green seas, standing at the top of a subway station wondering how the hell do those posts hold all of this cotton candy wonder above.

I am consistently amazed and surprised by everything here.  Never did I ever think I would be in another Shakespeare play.  Never did I ever think that I would be decent at Ultimate Frisbee.  Never did I ever think that I could be a part of such a bustling community.  You see an ex-pat on the bus or subway, you say hi.  

This dream-like adventure is fantastic for a year or so.  I give mad props to people who can be away for longer.  I feel like I am in the Land of Lotus Eaters.  This life is something so beautiful and sweet.  But, my pragmatic side fears that I will lose touch with reality.  I need that sense of home and safety.  Without it, I just feel like a lost child meandering through the roads and alleys of my introspective brain.

So, I am a pretty giant slacker

But, this is why.  Last week my goal was to write an adorable and plausible superhero story involving my good friends', Natalie and Erik, son Brenden and my mother's lovable albeit mischievous cat Brendan.  I am deluded thinking that I have a tone and a voice appropriate for a child bedtime stories, which is why I would like to live in close proximately to my BFF so that my future children can revel in the phenomenal stories of modern day minstrel Catherine Claire.   So, friends, that is forthcoming.

Now, as some of you may have crept on my profile already, last week I went hiking with some friends just north of the city.  It was by far one of the most humbling experiences I have ever had for several reasons.  I am way more out of shape than I had anticipated.  Andrew "The Face of Northface" and Ver "Holy Crap, is your Body Really Supposed to Do That" from Sweden were tearing up the trail, while I meagerly stumbled behind in hopes that maybe someday I can run up a mountain, do some flips, and land on top of a massive rock pile.  Anyway, Sunday was not that day.  However, I did have a lot of fun.  We got to the top of one of the peaks, and stretched out.  We had a wee picnic, and then proceeded to do some yoga.

As I was snapping pictures like a crazy fool, I tried to capture the constant sense of awe that surrounded me. I don't particularly care for public online forums to express the views of one religion over another, but I do know that while I was on that mountain looking down at the city and riverbed sprawling beneath me, there was a moment of "there has to be something more."  My "something more" may be different than your "something more," and that's okay.  But the beauty of this place astonished and humbled me.  The sky held the earth as a mother hugs her child.  The colors- a vibrant cerulean- faded into a misty array of questions that may never be answered.  The serenity I felt in this place was like a firefly blinking in the summer dusk.  It was amazing.

We continued upwards and found several rock piles to scramble up.  Not to be outdone by Andrew "The Face of Northface" and Ver "Holy Crap, is your Body Really Supposed to Do That" from Sweden, I scuttled after them in vain attempts to "be cool."  That being said, I never learn.  In seventh grade, I went on a ski trip to Lake Geneva ski resort.  Colin Wiesner went down a double black diamond so, obviously I did, too.  I ended up in the hospital with a compound fracture and three pins in my arm.  So, that was neat.  Luckily, I had no issues this past hiking trip, but I think someday I will need to realize that some people can do things I can't.  And, I will have to live with that.  But, today is not that day.

Moving on.  I have gone to several Korean league basketball games.  I have better ball handling skills than some of these gentlemen.  Now, if you knew me between the ages of 7 and 14, you will know that I have pretty shitty ball handling skills, and that is saying something.  I think it is customary to take at least two steps before you start dribbling here.  But, no matter, James, my co-teacher, asked if I could be a ref for the games that he and his buddies play.  Hopefully, with my remarkable whistle skills and acute attention to detail, my friends will be playing excellent basketball. :)

My first encounter with the Jagalchi fish market was not positive.  Please, sir, do not bring your dead fish purchases onto the subway and sit next to me.  I might vomit on your shoes.  Or think about vomiting on your shoes.  Either way, get the hell away from me.

That being said, I joined a writing group.  It will be fun.  We have everything from a novel about a sort of cult, to a romance novel, to my petty attempts of what I think poetry is.  There is a slam poetry night in two weeks.  I have my poem picked out, now I just have to practice.  I am also auditioning for "Much Ado About Nothing" next week.  So, I might be a Busy Betty in the  near future.

I think I might go nap on my co-teachers couch....Bazinga.