A few days ago, Ken and I ran the Daegu International Marathon with some of his Korean co-teachers and high school students. His co-teacher ran 5 kilometers, another Korean teacher ran 21 kilometers, and Ken, his high school students, and I ran the 10 kilometer marathon.
The marathon began at 8:30am and we hadn’t eaten anything in the morning (abiding to the advice of one of the teachers). The only thing that was lying in our stomachs was the Mexican food that Ken and I had eaten the night before. Mexican food the night before a race…it seemed like a good idea at the time.
***
The 10-kilometer timer began and Ken and I were off, running with a crowd of hundreds of people. There were men, women, students, and children in short-shorts, track suits, and flashy, neon marathon gear, as well as teams of people from companies and banks, running to the steady beats of a whistle.
After about 2.5 kilometers, I lost Ken in the crowd, and was feeling something stirring in the pit of my stomach. It seemed that I hadn’t made peace with what I had eaten the night before. As I rounded a corner, I saw my only chance of ridding the sickly burden that was weighing me down. A gas station was majestically standing to my right and its restroom was bidding me vomit in it. So I did.
I threw up everything that my stomach had to offer and felt pretty good…much better than I had just a few moments before. I spent a good fifteen minutes dry heaving and calming myself down before emerging from the dank washroom.
Avoiding the offers of Gatorade and water throughout the race, and keeping my mindset focused on finishing, I managed to cross the finish line, with Ken waiting for me. Despite being covered in sweat, he was all smiles.
What a great run. I vomited twice (once more after the race), but it was all worth it. 10 kilometers, uphill, in the blazing sun…my participation medal will hang on my wall with pride :).
- Jess
Showing posts with label Daegu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daegu. Show all posts
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Monday, 10 May 2010
The Long Ride Home
I was returning home from Daegu. What was supposed to be an hour and a half bus ride to Andeok turned into a horrible, horrible experience.
I remember it well… Getting my bus ticket from the booth at the Dongbu (East Daegu) Bus Terminal felt like routine. I was greeted by the man sitting beside the turnstile, checking tickets. He immediately recognized me after past countless times of “Andeok? You mean Andong, right? Why do you want to go to Andeok?” This time, however, he just smiled, punched a hole through my flimsy ticket, and let me pass.
I was heading towards the bus that was labeled ‘Yeongcheon and Andong’ – my usual route. The driver, who was smoking a cigarette on the bench beside his bus, shouted to me, “Where are you going?” I shouted back, “Andeok! Not Andong…An-DEOK.” He nodded, yelled back a Yeeaah! (the Korean equivalent of yup) and I proceeded to get onto the bus.
The bus stopped first in Yeongcheon, which seemed normal to me. The bus I usually take always stops in Yeongcheon. I was satisfied that I didn’t have to stare out the window to make sure of where I was going…so I dozed off for a little bit.
When I opened my eyes, everything was fuzzy. For a few minutes, my eyes were glazed over and I couldn’t distinguish blur from blur outside the window. When I could finally make out the word MOTEL plastered on many of them, I started to get suspicious. Everything looked out of the ordinary. I glanced up at one tall building and thought that I saw the word Pohang in big, vibrant, blue letters. Shaking it off, I waited until I could see something that I recognized. I went over the securities I had set before I entered the bus – I had confirmed with the bus driver that I was heading towards Andeok and that the bus onto which I was boarding was labeled ‘Yeongcheon and Andong’.
The bus stopped. The bus driver started coming down the aisle, collecting tickets along the way. I handed him my ticket and he studied it intently. Then there was the shouting. The driver was screaming at me and I had no idea why. Of course, I found out seconds after the foam had disappeared from his mouth. This bus was directed towards ‘Yeongcheon, Pohang, and then to Andong’. I countered his screaming with the fact that I had confirmed my destination with him, twice. He didn’t listen. Frustrated, he continued down the aisle, until he had collected all of the tickets, went back to his seat, and continued driving.
Only a few minutes had passed when we stopped at the next bus station – Pohang. I was far east of my destination, an hour and fifteen minutes away from home, and the last bus to Andeok had left an hour earlier. As I exited the bus, he snatched my ticket from my hand and shooed me off of the bus. Thanks Mr. Bus Driver. You really screwed up my night.
Now, I could’ve stayed in Pohang for the night. I could’ve slept in a motel and enjoyed the luxuries of a moderately-sized city. But no. I wanted to be at home, relaxing with Ken and watching a movie.
As I was trying to reason with the women at the Pohang ticket booth, a bus moderator tried to help me with various routes that I could take back home. Each potential option was shot down by the women…it looked like I was stuck in Pohang.
However, the sweet old moderator grabbed my arm and wasn’t going to give up. He was determined to get me back to Andeok. He explained my situation to the manager of the bus terminal, I was soon swarmed by five men, all trying to find a solution to my predicament. I don’t know how they did it, but after twenty minutes of talking on their cell phones, they found one taxi driver who was willing to drive me to Andeok for 40,000 won ($40). I was flabbergasted that they had arranged this for me and I was also a little scared that a stranger was willing to drive me an hour and a half northward to Andeok.
The taxi ride wasn’t too bad, except for the eerie silence that lingered throughout the car. The mysterious darkness of the countryside and the vast emptiness of the farmlands kept me wide-awake for the entire duration of the trip. My hands were quivering, ready to strike at the eyes, or throat. My feet were shaking, ready to kick the groin of anyone coming too close to my personal bubble.
Luckily, I didn’t have to maim anyone. Except for the unforeseen situation where the driver tried to charge me 10,000 won more, I arrived home safely, learning my lesson to never put my trust in bus drivers again. This experience will not happen a second time around.
- Jess
I remember it well… Getting my bus ticket from the booth at the Dongbu (East Daegu) Bus Terminal felt like routine. I was greeted by the man sitting beside the turnstile, checking tickets. He immediately recognized me after past countless times of “Andeok? You mean Andong, right? Why do you want to go to Andeok?” This time, however, he just smiled, punched a hole through my flimsy ticket, and let me pass.
I was heading towards the bus that was labeled ‘Yeongcheon and Andong’ – my usual route. The driver, who was smoking a cigarette on the bench beside his bus, shouted to me, “Where are you going?” I shouted back, “Andeok! Not Andong…An-DEOK.” He nodded, yelled back a Yeeaah! (the Korean equivalent of yup) and I proceeded to get onto the bus.
The bus stopped first in Yeongcheon, which seemed normal to me. The bus I usually take always stops in Yeongcheon. I was satisfied that I didn’t have to stare out the window to make sure of where I was going…so I dozed off for a little bit.
When I opened my eyes, everything was fuzzy. For a few minutes, my eyes were glazed over and I couldn’t distinguish blur from blur outside the window. When I could finally make out the word MOTEL plastered on many of them, I started to get suspicious. Everything looked out of the ordinary. I glanced up at one tall building and thought that I saw the word Pohang in big, vibrant, blue letters. Shaking it off, I waited until I could see something that I recognized. I went over the securities I had set before I entered the bus – I had confirmed with the bus driver that I was heading towards Andeok and that the bus onto which I was boarding was labeled ‘Yeongcheon and Andong’.
The bus stopped. The bus driver started coming down the aisle, collecting tickets along the way. I handed him my ticket and he studied it intently. Then there was the shouting. The driver was screaming at me and I had no idea why. Of course, I found out seconds after the foam had disappeared from his mouth. This bus was directed towards ‘Yeongcheon, Pohang, and then to Andong’. I countered his screaming with the fact that I had confirmed my destination with him, twice. He didn’t listen. Frustrated, he continued down the aisle, until he had collected all of the tickets, went back to his seat, and continued driving.
Only a few minutes had passed when we stopped at the next bus station – Pohang. I was far east of my destination, an hour and fifteen minutes away from home, and the last bus to Andeok had left an hour earlier. As I exited the bus, he snatched my ticket from my hand and shooed me off of the bus. Thanks Mr. Bus Driver. You really screwed up my night.
Now, I could’ve stayed in Pohang for the night. I could’ve slept in a motel and enjoyed the luxuries of a moderately-sized city. But no. I wanted to be at home, relaxing with Ken and watching a movie.
As I was trying to reason with the women at the Pohang ticket booth, a bus moderator tried to help me with various routes that I could take back home. Each potential option was shot down by the women…it looked like I was stuck in Pohang.
However, the sweet old moderator grabbed my arm and wasn’t going to give up. He was determined to get me back to Andeok. He explained my situation to the manager of the bus terminal, I was soon swarmed by five men, all trying to find a solution to my predicament. I don’t know how they did it, but after twenty minutes of talking on their cell phones, they found one taxi driver who was willing to drive me to Andeok for 40,000 won ($40). I was flabbergasted that they had arranged this for me and I was also a little scared that a stranger was willing to drive me an hour and a half northward to Andeok.
The taxi ride wasn’t too bad, except for the eerie silence that lingered throughout the car. The mysterious darkness of the countryside and the vast emptiness of the farmlands kept me wide-awake for the entire duration of the trip. My hands were quivering, ready to strike at the eyes, or throat. My feet were shaking, ready to kick the groin of anyone coming too close to my personal bubble.
Luckily, I didn’t have to maim anyone. Except for the unforeseen situation where the driver tried to charge me 10,000 won more, I arrived home safely, learning my lesson to never put my trust in bus drivers again. This experience will not happen a second time around.
- Jess
Sunday, 9 May 2010
Thursday, 8 April 2010
Training for the Daegu Marathon
I’m setting no limits. I’m going to push myself until my knees give out.
That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking ever since my first run three days ago. Ten kilometers of running in a day, out of the blue, is taking a major toll on my body, which is exactly what I’m experiencing now. My knees lock every time I stand up from sitting down. It pains me to crouch down in order to put a plug into an outlet...but it’s all worth it, just to run into the middle of nowhere, and come sprinting back feeling alive.
Of course I wouldn’t have started running if it weren’t for the Daegu International Marathon. It’s quite a goal to have begun training for it, considering that I was walking from the living room into the kitchen everyday for three five months, and now I’ve progressed to run ten kilometers outdoors.
Ken was able to map out a 9.8-kilometer run through several of Andeok’s villages. Jogging along one stretch of open road, I could see the ivory and lavender cherry blossoms coming into bloom, smell the earthy tones from freshly cut logs, watch the farmers fertilizing their land, avoid the tiny countryside dogs nipping at my feet, and be weary of the larger dogs eyeing me, merely tied to a post by a simple rope.
Aside from the farmers burning their crops and garbage on my first run, it was incomparable to the splendid sun, melting into the horizon, and the refreshing wind, swooping down from the mountainside.
I can’t wait to go out for another run. I just have to wait for my body to heal…
…another week should do it.
- Jess
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Adventure Map for KenandJess2go (version 2)
*Added "Yeongdeok" and "Yeongyang"!
[caption id="attachment_706" align="alignnone" width="500" caption="Adventure Map for KenandJess2go (version 2)"]
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Saturday, 9 January 2010
Adventure Map for KenandJess2go
[caption id="attachment_663" align="alignnone" width="500" caption="Adventure Map for KenandJess2go"]
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Wednesday, 23 December 2009
Gyeongbuk EPIK Get-Together in Daegu
The get-together or “business trip” that Gyeongbuk EPIK (English Program In Korea) held turned out to be quite the pre-holidays party.
With accommodations at the New Young Nam Hotel in Daegu, all English teachers met in the hotel’s swanky, tinseled-up restaurant, carrying wrapped boxes of gifts from the Gyeongbuk EPIK managers.
We had a glorious feast prepared for us – buffet style – where you could find fresh, handmade sushi, pork ribs, sticky in a lush, red sauce, buttery pastas, spiced sausages, delectable desserts, and more…
Listening to some quality music from two exceptionally paired vocalists, all of the teachers happily ate to their satisfaction, drank as much beer as they could (the restaurant’s home-brewed beer was free and unlimited until 9:00pm), and opened their presents. Our lovely holiday gifts from our managers turned out to be a solid black EPIK organizer, a smashing black bag for our books and groceries, and the traditional Korean game yoonori – a typical ‘get-to-the-finish-line’ game played on New Year’s Day (sometimes involving money :)).
Taking in some holiday caroling from the Andong teachers (including Corey and Ilana), and cheering on or sometimes sympathizing with some of the other English teachers’ experiences, the night finally came to a close, and most of the teachers left for their homes…
MOST of the teachers.
The unlimited, home-brewed beer was quite tempting. Especially since that beer had a slight caramel-like accent, a rich aftertaste, and was served in rustic, two-and-a-half-litre glass bottles. Suffice to say, we had our fill of it.
With the few teachers that were left, Ken and I took out our newly-received yoonori game, and we all started to play, throwing 1,000 won ($1) bills into our betting pot.
I won the game, of course, having years of experience throwing the four yoonori sticks with a personalized technique. The boys were certain that I was cheating. My prize – 3,000 Korean won. I left the remaining 1,000 won in the pot to keep the game going.
Minutes after the following dialogue, Ken and I decided to call it quits.
“Jess, it’s your turn,” Ken would say.
I would reply back, “Ken, I’ve already won (showing him my three 1,000 won bills).”
(circling around one round of players…)
“Jess, come on, it’s your turn,” Ken would say, again.
“Ken,” I would stress back, “I’ve already won.”
After a couple more cycles of this, I decided to retire Ken. We, and two others, were the last ones left in the entire restaurant.
Thank-you for another wonderful experience, EPIK. We’re so fortunate to have you.
- Jess
With accommodations at the New Young Nam Hotel in Daegu, all English teachers met in the hotel’s swanky, tinseled-up restaurant, carrying wrapped boxes of gifts from the Gyeongbuk EPIK managers.
We had a glorious feast prepared for us – buffet style – where you could find fresh, handmade sushi, pork ribs, sticky in a lush, red sauce, buttery pastas, spiced sausages, delectable desserts, and more…
Listening to some quality music from two exceptionally paired vocalists, all of the teachers happily ate to their satisfaction, drank as much beer as they could (the restaurant’s home-brewed beer was free and unlimited until 9:00pm), and opened their presents. Our lovely holiday gifts from our managers turned out to be a solid black EPIK organizer, a smashing black bag for our books and groceries, and the traditional Korean game yoonori – a typical ‘get-to-the-finish-line’ game played on New Year’s Day (sometimes involving money :)).
Taking in some holiday caroling from the Andong teachers (including Corey and Ilana), and cheering on or sometimes sympathizing with some of the other English teachers’ experiences, the night finally came to a close, and most of the teachers left for their homes…
MOST of the teachers.
The unlimited, home-brewed beer was quite tempting. Especially since that beer had a slight caramel-like accent, a rich aftertaste, and was served in rustic, two-and-a-half-litre glass bottles. Suffice to say, we had our fill of it.
With the few teachers that were left, Ken and I took out our newly-received yoonori game, and we all started to play, throwing 1,000 won ($1) bills into our betting pot.
I won the game, of course, having years of experience throwing the four yoonori sticks with a personalized technique. The boys were certain that I was cheating. My prize – 3,000 Korean won. I left the remaining 1,000 won in the pot to keep the game going.
Minutes after the following dialogue, Ken and I decided to call it quits.
“Jess, it’s your turn,” Ken would say.
I would reply back, “Ken, I’ve already won (showing him my three 1,000 won bills).”
(circling around one round of players…)
“Jess, come on, it’s your turn,” Ken would say, again.
“Ken,” I would stress back, “I’ve already won.”
After a couple more cycles of this, I decided to retire Ken. We, and two others, were the last ones left in the entire restaurant.
Thank-you for another wonderful experience, EPIK. We’re so fortunate to have you.
- Jess
Sunday, 29 November 2009
First Trip to Daegu City
Friday
I was on the computer in the living room, typing away in my red, penguin, pajama-bottoms and my knitted, cream-coloured, hooded sweatshirt. It was a Friday, and I was ready for comfort, relaxation, and some blissful SLEEP.
Little did I know, my plans to sip tea, write blogs, and watch a movie were about to change. Ken walked in through the front door.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Really good…do you want to go to Daegu tonight?” he responded.
Well, that caught me off guard. We were supposed to head out to Daegu, tomorrow.
“I thought we were going tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, I know…but why not go today? I already bought the bus tickets.”
So that was that. Within half an hour, we were packed and ready to set out for our first official trip to Daegu City.
The beginning of our trip didn’t start off quite as planned. As Ken and I sped towards the bus stop, he asked, “Did you pack your papers?”
By papers, he meant the thirty-or-so pages that I had printed, neatly listing several tourist hotspots, restaurants, and shopping centers around downtown Daegu.
I hated myself.
Where were the papers? They were stacked neatly on top of the dining table in the living room. I had forgotten them. That’s what happens when I don’t have my packing list prepared (as Ken very well knows).
It was either forget the papers or miss the bus. We rushed. We made it to the bus.
***
The bus ride was about an hour and forty-five minutes long. The travel time included the traffic that was coming in and out of the city due to the fact that this weekend was the make-as-much-kimchi-as-you-can weekend. People from all over were travelling to their relatives’ to make a heck of a lot of kimchi (I’m talkin’ about hundreds and hundreds of heads of kimchi).
***
After arriving in East Daegu, we took the subway to City Hall (you know it’s a big city when they have a subway system). Following the map that Ken had printed out, we moseyed around, looking for the first motel on which Ken had set his sights for our trip. His internal GPS system led us to the motel.
I think it’s pretty reasonable to ask to see a room before taking it. When we arrived at the motel, we asked the manager if we could see a room. With a huff of bitter annoyance, he mumbled the number of the room attached to his office. The room wasn’t so great. When we asked to see another room, he was quick to reply in Korean, “I won’t accept you.” When we asked why, he shook his hands, saying again, “I won’t accept you.” He shut his sliding window.
Aghast and appalled, I knocked on the window. The manager opened it, letting it bang loudly against its frame.
“Well, can you tell us where we can find another motel?” I asked in Korean.
The manager just shook his hands and shut his window, again.
That’s when we started to wander around, aimlessly, looking for a motel. As we headed up and down the side streets, something caught Ken’s eye. It was the figure of Super Mario, stretched over some person’s muscular frame. It was Temu’s vibrant, red, Super Mario sweatshirt.
“Temu?” Ken called out.
Temu turned around, and we were surprised to find the Pohang English Teachers, bunched up against a small open window, sipping on some drinks in plastic Ziploc baggies. What a small world (actually, what a small country…) that we would randomly find the Pohang teachers, huddling around in a narrow side street.
This little bar with its window open to the street was called Vinroo, and the place was attracting a lot of customers (mainly foreigners). The Ziploc-baggies of mixed drinks intrigued both Ken and I, and we got some of our own baggies, with the question on the side, “Do you want more alcohol with that?” What place would offer you more alcohol, free of charge, just to gain customer satisfaction? Vinroo.
Our thirst was quenched, but our tummies were grumbling to no end. Temu and Asena (two of the Pohang English Teachers) had been to Daegu once before and recommended The Holy Grill for supper. Man, did we stuff ourselves. This was the first time Ken and I had a taste of Mexican food in Korea (actually, any ethnic food for that matter), and we took advantage of the restaurant. The restaurant was owned by Korean-Canadians, so portion-control was just like home (Canada). Heaps of food arrived on massive dishes, making the evening’s supper very satisfying. Ken had creamy salad, topped with succulent chicken, stuffed into a large, crispy-golden taco bowl, and I had a saucy beef burrito, with tender refried beans, a fresh salad, and mixed rice. This place was heaven.
After eating off every bit of food on our plates, Ken and I decided to retire early, while the Pohang teachers went to dip into the Daegu nightlife. We headed out toward the motel that Temu had recommended to us. When we couldn’t find the motel with his description, “It has red lettering on its glass doors, with a cutesy chime playing at the entrance…and the alley looks like a place where you’d want to die,” Ken and I stumbled upon the Park Motel. For 30,000 won a room, the place was definitely a gem. It could’ve been a hotel (We absolutely recommend it to anyone out there traveling to Daegu).
***
SATURDAY
Today, we were refreshed. With a full day of walking, we headed out toward the famous Seomun Market – the place that my Hyeonseo co-teacher had warned me about. She said to be weary of pick-pocketers and getting lost (Ken laughed when I told him that). However, the place was big. Of the many things we bought (and Ken bargained), the three most special were our velvety-smooth, fuchsia, winter blanket, our mini-Christmas tree (with silver bulbs, ribbons, and lights!), and a full-out, cotton-trimmed, Santa suit. There were three Christmas shops in the market, and when I spotted the suit, hanging at the top of one of them, Ken forwardly said, “I’m buying it.”
Next on our agenda was to attend the dinner that a Bunam teacher was hosting for us.
Ken was buying a cake for the dinner – a fluffy, cream-covered, castella cake, sprinkled with strawberry bits and topped with candied fruits. It was beautiful.
As the employee went to put a plastic knife under the cake, she accidentally pierced the white icing with it. Her hands froze. She freaked out. “Oh no!” she cried, “Do you want another cake?”
Ken laughed, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” and tried to calm her down. The cake was going to be eaten within a couple of hours, anyways.
***
Wow, the Bunam teacher’s home was amazing. Looking like it had been crafted out of a home décor magazine, the place didn’t disappoint, being the penthouse suite and all. We ate a glorious meal of Korean barbecue, and topped it off with Ken’s magnificent cake.
***
The final ‘to do’ on our list for today – we had to explore the nightlife. As we took a stroll through Daegu’s downtown streets, we browsed in all of the stores that were still open. Who did we bump into, once again? The Pohang teachers. Where? At Vinroo. After sipping down several bags of the delicious cocktails, we all headed toward a sports bar, which had pool-bowling and electronic darts. It was a grand place.
Ken and I immediately headed toward the electronic darts. He challenged me. Honing in the skills I had absorbed from my father, I focused all of my energy on beating Ken. We played four games. In all four, I beat him. I wish I could’ve shown you my scores right there and then. Luckily, I documented the night with my camera. To be honest, I think that Ken’s vision and judgment dramatically worsened throughout the night, thus affecting his dart-throwing skills.
Finding our motel at the end of the night was a little difficult. No one could respond to Ken’s efforts as he tried to find our motel, shaking our room key at couples and asking, “Do you know where this is?” Unfortunately, the name of our motel wasn’t on the keychain, and people must’ve been confused and a little scared. Using a skyscraper as a landmark, we eventually took a taxi to the nearest recognizable place near our motel, and finally found it.
***
SUNDAY
It always seems like we set ourselves up for consequences when we head to a big city…
At our motel, our brains and stomachs just couldn’t catch up with real time. We had to take the next bus back to Andeok. It was such a nice release though, to have walked through the streets of a big city, to have smelled all of the tantalizing and horrible smells that it had to offer, to have accessed the lively outdoor market, instead of our tiny little convenience store in Andeok (we still love it)…
Big cities. They’ve done us in again.
What a great weekend.
- Jess
I was on the computer in the living room, typing away in my red, penguin, pajama-bottoms and my knitted, cream-coloured, hooded sweatshirt. It was a Friday, and I was ready for comfort, relaxation, and some blissful SLEEP.
Little did I know, my plans to sip tea, write blogs, and watch a movie were about to change. Ken walked in through the front door.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Really good…do you want to go to Daegu tonight?” he responded.
Well, that caught me off guard. We were supposed to head out to Daegu, tomorrow.
“I thought we were going tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, I know…but why not go today? I already bought the bus tickets.”
So that was that. Within half an hour, we were packed and ready to set out for our first official trip to Daegu City.
The beginning of our trip didn’t start off quite as planned. As Ken and I sped towards the bus stop, he asked, “Did you pack your papers?”
By papers, he meant the thirty-or-so pages that I had printed, neatly listing several tourist hotspots, restaurants, and shopping centers around downtown Daegu.
I hated myself.
Where were the papers? They were stacked neatly on top of the dining table in the living room. I had forgotten them. That’s what happens when I don’t have my packing list prepared (as Ken very well knows).
It was either forget the papers or miss the bus. We rushed. We made it to the bus.
***
The bus ride was about an hour and forty-five minutes long. The travel time included the traffic that was coming in and out of the city due to the fact that this weekend was the make-as-much-kimchi-as-you-can weekend. People from all over were travelling to their relatives’ to make a heck of a lot of kimchi (I’m talkin’ about hundreds and hundreds of heads of kimchi).
***
After arriving in East Daegu, we took the subway to City Hall (you know it’s a big city when they have a subway system). Following the map that Ken had printed out, we moseyed around, looking for the first motel on which Ken had set his sights for our trip. His internal GPS system led us to the motel.
I think it’s pretty reasonable to ask to see a room before taking it. When we arrived at the motel, we asked the manager if we could see a room. With a huff of bitter annoyance, he mumbled the number of the room attached to his office. The room wasn’t so great. When we asked to see another room, he was quick to reply in Korean, “I won’t accept you.” When we asked why, he shook his hands, saying again, “I won’t accept you.” He shut his sliding window.
Aghast and appalled, I knocked on the window. The manager opened it, letting it bang loudly against its frame.
“Well, can you tell us where we can find another motel?” I asked in Korean.
The manager just shook his hands and shut his window, again.
That’s when we started to wander around, aimlessly, looking for a motel. As we headed up and down the side streets, something caught Ken’s eye. It was the figure of Super Mario, stretched over some person’s muscular frame. It was Temu’s vibrant, red, Super Mario sweatshirt.
“Temu?” Ken called out.
Temu turned around, and we were surprised to find the Pohang English Teachers, bunched up against a small open window, sipping on some drinks in plastic Ziploc baggies. What a small world (actually, what a small country…) that we would randomly find the Pohang teachers, huddling around in a narrow side street.
This little bar with its window open to the street was called Vinroo, and the place was attracting a lot of customers (mainly foreigners). The Ziploc-baggies of mixed drinks intrigued both Ken and I, and we got some of our own baggies, with the question on the side, “Do you want more alcohol with that?” What place would offer you more alcohol, free of charge, just to gain customer satisfaction? Vinroo.
Our thirst was quenched, but our tummies were grumbling to no end. Temu and Asena (two of the Pohang English Teachers) had been to Daegu once before and recommended The Holy Grill for supper. Man, did we stuff ourselves. This was the first time Ken and I had a taste of Mexican food in Korea (actually, any ethnic food for that matter), and we took advantage of the restaurant. The restaurant was owned by Korean-Canadians, so portion-control was just like home (Canada). Heaps of food arrived on massive dishes, making the evening’s supper very satisfying. Ken had creamy salad, topped with succulent chicken, stuffed into a large, crispy-golden taco bowl, and I had a saucy beef burrito, with tender refried beans, a fresh salad, and mixed rice. This place was heaven.
After eating off every bit of food on our plates, Ken and I decided to retire early, while the Pohang teachers went to dip into the Daegu nightlife. We headed out toward the motel that Temu had recommended to us. When we couldn’t find the motel with his description, “It has red lettering on its glass doors, with a cutesy chime playing at the entrance…and the alley looks like a place where you’d want to die,” Ken and I stumbled upon the Park Motel. For 30,000 won a room, the place was definitely a gem. It could’ve been a hotel (We absolutely recommend it to anyone out there traveling to Daegu).
***
SATURDAY
Today, we were refreshed. With a full day of walking, we headed out toward the famous Seomun Market – the place that my Hyeonseo co-teacher had warned me about. She said to be weary of pick-pocketers and getting lost (Ken laughed when I told him that). However, the place was big. Of the many things we bought (and Ken bargained), the three most special were our velvety-smooth, fuchsia, winter blanket, our mini-Christmas tree (with silver bulbs, ribbons, and lights!), and a full-out, cotton-trimmed, Santa suit. There were three Christmas shops in the market, and when I spotted the suit, hanging at the top of one of them, Ken forwardly said, “I’m buying it.”
Next on our agenda was to attend the dinner that a Bunam teacher was hosting for us.
Ken was buying a cake for the dinner – a fluffy, cream-covered, castella cake, sprinkled with strawberry bits and topped with candied fruits. It was beautiful.
As the employee went to put a plastic knife under the cake, she accidentally pierced the white icing with it. Her hands froze. She freaked out. “Oh no!” she cried, “Do you want another cake?”
Ken laughed, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” and tried to calm her down. The cake was going to be eaten within a couple of hours, anyways.
***
Wow, the Bunam teacher’s home was amazing. Looking like it had been crafted out of a home décor magazine, the place didn’t disappoint, being the penthouse suite and all. We ate a glorious meal of Korean barbecue, and topped it off with Ken’s magnificent cake.
***
The final ‘to do’ on our list for today – we had to explore the nightlife. As we took a stroll through Daegu’s downtown streets, we browsed in all of the stores that were still open. Who did we bump into, once again? The Pohang teachers. Where? At Vinroo. After sipping down several bags of the delicious cocktails, we all headed toward a sports bar, which had pool-bowling and electronic darts. It was a grand place.
Ken and I immediately headed toward the electronic darts. He challenged me. Honing in the skills I had absorbed from my father, I focused all of my energy on beating Ken. We played four games. In all four, I beat him. I wish I could’ve shown you my scores right there and then. Luckily, I documented the night with my camera. To be honest, I think that Ken’s vision and judgment dramatically worsened throughout the night, thus affecting his dart-throwing skills.
Finding our motel at the end of the night was a little difficult. No one could respond to Ken’s efforts as he tried to find our motel, shaking our room key at couples and asking, “Do you know where this is?” Unfortunately, the name of our motel wasn’t on the keychain, and people must’ve been confused and a little scared. Using a skyscraper as a landmark, we eventually took a taxi to the nearest recognizable place near our motel, and finally found it.
***
SUNDAY
It always seems like we set ourselves up for consequences when we head to a big city…
At our motel, our brains and stomachs just couldn’t catch up with real time. We had to take the next bus back to Andeok. It was such a nice release though, to have walked through the streets of a big city, to have smelled all of the tantalizing and horrible smells that it had to offer, to have accessed the lively outdoor market, instead of our tiny little convenience store in Andeok (we still love it)…
Big cities. They’ve done us in again.
What a great weekend.
- Jess
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