Yellow Dust and Exploring Busan
There’s a common yet disgusting phenomena currently blanketing Korea. It’s called “hwangsa” and its English translation is “yellow sand” or “yellow dust.” All the way from China’s more industrialized areas (though it’s currently snowing there) and the rapidly accelerating desertification in the regions neighboring the Gobi comes what I like to call “the funk.” If you’ve ever watched a movie about the apocalypse, you know how the sky turns black and everything gets dark though it may be the middle of the day. Well it’s the same thing here, only it’s yellow instead of black. Picture yourself sitting in a buttercup—the flowers my brother and cousins and I used to squish on one another leaving powdery remains on cheeks, clothes, hair, whatever we could reach. It’s RIDICULOUS! Respiratory issues and eye infections are more common since it contains heavy metal substances and toxic chemicals, and so is the purchase of tape for windows and other cleaning utensils. According to my KScene magazine, a measurement of 70 micrograms of dust per cubic meter is normal in Seoul, but when the funk flies in across the Yellow Sea, those number can rise as much as 300%! I’ve already mentioned how the amount of dust here is incredible, but now it’s even greater! I mop a minimum of once a week and even wipe my walls with a wet cloth. It’s still not enough!
I had dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant last week with my friend Sally, whom I met in Korean class back in October. She has had some of the funniest lost in translation stories. (Her student asked her if she was dying. Sally obliged and said that we all are. What her student was talking about was her hair color!) Anyway, her co-worker was conducting class discussion and discovered one of his students was working on a book. He asked about the topic, and the student said menopause. Hmm, the instructor thought, menopause. Wondering what a 30-something male who has nothing to do with medicine might have to say about this, he asked what his message, purpose, or authority might be. As they discussed it more, he realized the student was saying “metaphors” rather than menopause. That might make a difference in the target audience!
This past weekend I went down to Busan, a cosmopolitan coastal city where Sam is now living. It was recently the hub for all the APEC excitement here, and Sam says it’s more international than Seoul. It really is a nice place from what we’ve seen, and coupling how good Sam is with directions and the Korean inability to make on- and off-ramps (or signs on the correct side of the road indicating junctions for that matter), we’ve driven quite a bit. After picking me up at the train station, we got into the left lane to head back to the Army post, because the sign saying that the road we needed was on the left side of the road we were on. Duh, right? Wrong. This was just telling us that the road was coming up, so we wound up on a highway headed back to Seoul. It’s about a 9-hour drive so there had to be a way to turn around. We wound up totally lost, but we saw a police station and decided to stop, hoping they might have something that would help. A map at a police station? No such luck. They attempted a hand-sketched city map, but gave up after a few streets. Someone who spoke English got on the phone and it sounded like we had it figured out. Laughing on our way back to the car, a policeman walked up and told us to follow them in their police car. So here we go, be-beebopping along this random Korean road, behind a police escort, snickering all the way. True to the stereotype of Korean drivers who have only had cars in their country for a few decades, they had us attempting some crazy (and probably illegal) stunts. Nonetheless, we made it back to the “budu” (pier) and got on our merry little way back to post. An unplanned adventure and we got to see more of the city!
After we got onto post we went to a BBQ with Sam’s co-workers. Some of these people really are the nicest people I’ve ever met! Of course, there was one guy there from, of all places, Churchpoint, Louisiana. If anyone ever tells me this isn’t a small world, they’re crazy. He knew that I was from around his neck of the woods and in anticipation of a fellow Cajun who might have been going through withdrawals for the past 8 months, made crawfish etouffee. I know it was Easter weekend, but this was probably an added religious experience- unexpected and extremely exciting. I expect I will have a second rear end shortly after I spend some time at home because I fully intend to indulge on all the food I’ve been missing. This really was great!
Later that night, we decided that the popular Haeundae Beach would be a good destination for our Saturday night coffee excursion. What did we pass along the way? The same police station where we’d stopped earlier for help (Sam suggested he get points for this—not only stopping to ask directions, but when he doesn’t even know the Korean word for “map.” Even though I was the one with the handy phrase dictionary, I obliged his brownie points!). Only it took us 20 minutes to get back this time—experience counts. The beach was noteworthy, though. For anyone who has been to Florida, or even Cypremore Point, the sand and shoreline at these popular tourist destinations usually go on further than the human eye can see. Condos, restaurants, bronzed bodies all on an endless line peppered with umbrellas and lifeguard stands. Here: Probably 700 yards of sand, one great big hotel and a few other small ones off the water, and a ton of seafood restaurants to boot. No cute little nooks where you can get your peace and quiet from the buzzing madness of people trying to “relax.” Korea is heavily overpopulated, and though the night temperature required us to have sweaters and jackets on, there were still oodles of people! So we walked the short length of the beach and had hot cocoa across the street and called it a night.
Copyright 2006 Olivia R. Reed
I had dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant last week with my friend Sally, whom I met in Korean class back in October. She has had some of the funniest lost in translation stories. (Her student asked her if she was dying. Sally obliged and said that we all are. What her student was talking about was her hair color!) Anyway, her co-worker was conducting class discussion and discovered one of his students was working on a book. He asked about the topic, and the student said menopause. Hmm, the instructor thought, menopause. Wondering what a 30-something male who has nothing to do with medicine might have to say about this, he asked what his message, purpose, or authority might be. As they discussed it more, he realized the student was saying “metaphors” rather than menopause. That might make a difference in the target audience!
This past weekend I went down to Busan, a cosmopolitan coastal city where Sam is now living. It was recently the hub for all the APEC excitement here, and Sam says it’s more international than Seoul. It really is a nice place from what we’ve seen, and coupling how good Sam is with directions and the Korean inability to make on- and off-ramps (or signs on the correct side of the road indicating junctions for that matter), we’ve driven quite a bit. After picking me up at the train station, we got into the left lane to head back to the Army post, because the sign saying that the road we needed was on the left side of the road we were on. Duh, right? Wrong. This was just telling us that the road was coming up, so we wound up on a highway headed back to Seoul. It’s about a 9-hour drive so there had to be a way to turn around. We wound up totally lost, but we saw a police station and decided to stop, hoping they might have something that would help. A map at a police station? No such luck. They attempted a hand-sketched city map, but gave up after a few streets. Someone who spoke English got on the phone and it sounded like we had it figured out. Laughing on our way back to the car, a policeman walked up and told us to follow them in their police car. So here we go, be-beebopping along this random Korean road, behind a police escort, snickering all the way. True to the stereotype of Korean drivers who have only had cars in their country for a few decades, they had us attempting some crazy (and probably illegal) stunts. Nonetheless, we made it back to the “budu” (pier) and got on our merry little way back to post. An unplanned adventure and we got to see more of the city!
After we got onto post we went to a BBQ with Sam’s co-workers. Some of these people really are the nicest people I’ve ever met! Of course, there was one guy there from, of all places, Churchpoint, Louisiana. If anyone ever tells me this isn’t a small world, they’re crazy. He knew that I was from around his neck of the woods and in anticipation of a fellow Cajun who might have been going through withdrawals for the past 8 months, made crawfish etouffee. I know it was Easter weekend, but this was probably an added religious experience- unexpected and extremely exciting. I expect I will have a second rear end shortly after I spend some time at home because I fully intend to indulge on all the food I’ve been missing. This really was great!
Later that night, we decided that the popular Haeundae Beach would be a good destination for our Saturday night coffee excursion. What did we pass along the way? The same police station where we’d stopped earlier for help (Sam suggested he get points for this—not only stopping to ask directions, but when he doesn’t even know the Korean word for “map.” Even though I was the one with the handy phrase dictionary, I obliged his brownie points!). Only it took us 20 minutes to get back this time—experience counts. The beach was noteworthy, though. For anyone who has been to Florida, or even Cypremore Point, the sand and shoreline at these popular tourist destinations usually go on further than the human eye can see. Condos, restaurants, bronzed bodies all on an endless line peppered with umbrellas and lifeguard stands. Here: Probably 700 yards of sand, one great big hotel and a few other small ones off the water, and a ton of seafood restaurants to boot. No cute little nooks where you can get your peace and quiet from the buzzing madness of people trying to “relax.” Korea is heavily overpopulated, and though the night temperature required us to have sweaters and jackets on, there were still oodles of people! So we walked the short length of the beach and had hot cocoa across the street and called it a night.
Copyright 2006 Olivia R. Reed
posted by LSULiv | 3:50 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home