Yet.
To add to my growing collection of atrocious habits, I’ve more or less stopped spending my weekends in Busan. In addition to drinking excessively, spending impulsively, and regularly referring to myself in the third person, I seem to have developed a serious Daegu problem. I can’t actually recall the last week that didn’t somehow involve my ending up there. I believe that it was early December. It’s getting to the point that a couple members of my diminishing pool of friends in Busan have actually asked to join me in Daegu for the weekend; as if really awesome things actually go down there or something. If only it were that simple.
Prior to my days as Big White Barbie, I lived a rather meager existence in a rather meager small town. It was your typical Southern Ontario hockey town (it probably still is, but as far as I’m concerned nothing actually happens or exists when I’m not a part of it). For every beer-league hockey player trying to grope you at the bar, there was a glorious mullet eyeing you up on the city bus. The only demographic more represented than white trash were the elderly. Every other corner sported an old age home. Right around the corner from that one could usually find a group home of some sort. The most exciting thing that happened to the city in my lifetime was probably the flood of 2004; that or hosting the Memorial Cup in 1996. In other words, Barbie’s hometown is pretty fucking vanilla.
I am positively Small Town. One of my friends in Busan scoffs at me when I say this, rolls her eyes and says: “Upper Canadians”. Apparently a population of 75 000 can only be classified as a small town in Canada if you live in Southern Ontario. Well, excuse me. I can’t help it if the rest of Canada is broken. On the flip side, Busan is a very large city. Variety is plentiful here; just about anything I could want to eat or buy can be found. Should I wish to make more foreign friends, Busan boasts several different areas where I can easily find other Talking Monkeys. Several. Different. Areas. There lies the problem. You mean that I have to go to different areas of town?! And that some parts of town are dead on certain nights of the week? And… and… there are actually people that refuse to leave their part of town, because they happen to think that Haeundae/ Kyungsung University/ Pusan National University/ Seomyeon is such a Big Deal that it’s the only part of Busan worth spending any time in? Lame. Count me out.
Enter Daegu.
Boasting a population of nearly 2.5 million, Daegu is not by any stretch of the imagination a small town. Yet, unlike Busan, Daegu actually has one well defined central commercial core. As a result of this, the foreigner community in Daegu is far more tightly knit than Busan’s. The second time that I went to Daegu I recognized numerous people that I had met the last time I was there. I can socialize in Busan for weeks and not have this happen, should I so desire. While it’s occasionally beneficial to duck people, it’s not something that I’m really accustomed to doing. Being Small Town Girl and all, I’m used to running into every undesirable personality that I’ve ever come across, each and every time I leave the house. There is comfort in familiarity; even if that familiarity is occasionally unsavory.
Essentially, my Daegu Problem began with the comfort I found from the small-town feel that I get from Daegu. Combine this with the fact that I’ve now established a really good group of female friends there, and The Daegu Problem doesn’t appear to have an end in sight.
Until the Summer, that is. And by Summer, I mean Spring. Busan has 23423 beaches. As soon as it's hot enough to dress inappropriately and jump in, I'm there. At that point I’m going to have to get used to the idea of my friends sleeping on my floor. It’s the least I can do after months of crashing with them in Daegu. I might even be nice and get them a floor mat thingy! Maybe. Hospitality has never been one of my strong points, years of employment in customer service be damned.
So, until the weather gets hot, the title of my blog is a total farce. Aside from my moniker, of course. So long as I'm in Korea, I will always be Big White Barbie.
Showing posts with label Busan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Busan. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Barbie Pees on Jesus
At some point during the holidays, I turned into one of those obnoxious drunken foreigners that are apparently an embarrassment to the more productive foreigners. Now, I could feel badly about this and resolve to spend my 2008 being a more productive foreigner. Or, I could say Fuck That Noise and live it up. Given that I'm somebody who honestly hasn't had a lot of fun in her life, I think that I'm going to go for the latter. I recently told a friend of mine that I was currently having the most fun that I've ever had. His response was that he wasn't sure if he should feel happy or sad for me. In this case, I much prefer the former. There is little use in being depressed about events that have long since passed when I can be having the time of my life right now. This being my current disposition, it goes a long way to explaining why I've been acting like a college student lately. While I've certainly done some regrettable things and met some people I'd rather forget in the last couple of months, I've made a few fantastic friends along the way. Without them, Christmas Day 2007 wouldn't have been the Spectacular Random Show that it was.
Christmas morning didn't quite happen, as I slept happily on my friend, The Aussie Madam's, floor-mat until about 2 in the afternoon. Christmas "breakfast" consisted of fried eggs and toast. Aussie Madam is a much better host than I am, as there is no way that I would have gotten out of bed to cook had she been in Busan with me. She gets an A for effort. The original plan had been to meet another friend of ours, The Hoover, downtown for some afternoon shopping. We forwent shopping in favour of not getting off of our asses until 5 and then grabbing dinner at this cute little Italian restaurant, Italy Italy. It was here that our evening of spectacular randomness began.
While waiting for a table at Italy Italy, The Aussie Madam noticed a coworker of hers waiting ahead of us. Alone. On Christmas. In Korea. The Aussie Madam quickly noticed the level of suck in this situation and invited her coworker to join us. The coworker accepted her offer, if only because it meant that she'd get a table sooner than if she were to eat alone. Given the great warmth of the reception we received from her, I suspect that was actually the sole reason. As it turns out, The Aussie Madam's coworker is apparently not a huge fan of people, The Aussie Madam especially. After attempting to make polite small talk with the coworker, it quickly dawned on me that this girl sucked. She sucked hard. Throughout the meal The Girl Who Sucked was curt, dismissive, spent most of her time texting people on her phone, and made absolutely no effort whatsoever to involve herself in the conversation or get to know us. The Girl Who Sucked was so bloody Bah Hambug that when she finally got up to go to the bathroom, the three of us stared at each other in stunned silence for a few moments. After taking moment to collect her thoughts, The Hoover spoke first. "Is she angry or something?" My response: "Dude, that chick sucks!" We quickly come to agreement that The Girl Who Sucked sucked so hard that it was shocking that her mother hadn't spontaneously aborted her as a fetus. Thankfully, The Girl Who Sucked finished her meal very quickly and took her miserable ass elsewhere. Roughly half an hour after The Girl Who Sucked's departure, The Aussie Madam received the following text message from her: Thank your friends for the crudest dinner conversation that I've ever had. Bah Fucking Humbug, eh?
The Hoover felt that Christmas wasn't Christmas without a religious experience. We collected our other friend, SGTF (She's Got The Fever) and made our way to the closest church. The "church" looked more or less like a kimbap restaurant with a cross on the wall and a picture with Jesus and Friends on the door. The Hoover decided that instead of going in, she'd just have a photo op in front of the building. Me being the dirty little attention whore that I am decided that I wanted in on this action too. Naturally, I put a leg in the air over the photo of Jesus and friends and posed for a shot. As I was holding this pose, which SGTF suggested looked somewhat like I was pissing on Jesus, a couple of men from the church walked passed us. I temporarily feared a verbal lashing in response to the graphic disrespect that I was showing their church. I had clearly forgotten that I was in Korea. As opposed to questioning what we were doing or looking alarmed, the men remarked: "so beautiful!" That's right, folks. Pissing on Jesus is a beautiful thing. Only in Korea Land.
Sometime after this I encouraged the girls to go out drinking. Again. As a result, I missed the last train back to Busan. When I arrived at the train station at 3am they advised me that the next train left at 6am. I considered my options and decided that instead of getting a hotel room that I'd hit up a PC Bang (internet cafe) for a couple of hours. In that PC Bang around 4:30am, I finally let go and did what I had wanted to do for the last couple of days: I cried. I cried, half a world away from the place that I'm supposed to belong; a place that I never felt I belonged in the first place.
Christmas morning didn't quite happen, as I slept happily on my friend, The Aussie Madam's, floor-mat until about 2 in the afternoon. Christmas "breakfast" consisted of fried eggs and toast. Aussie Madam is a much better host than I am, as there is no way that I would have gotten out of bed to cook had she been in Busan with me. She gets an A for effort. The original plan had been to meet another friend of ours, The Hoover, downtown for some afternoon shopping. We forwent shopping in favour of not getting off of our asses until 5 and then grabbing dinner at this cute little Italian restaurant, Italy Italy. It was here that our evening of spectacular randomness began.
While waiting for a table at Italy Italy, The Aussie Madam noticed a coworker of hers waiting ahead of us. Alone. On Christmas. In Korea. The Aussie Madam quickly noticed the level of suck in this situation and invited her coworker to join us. The coworker accepted her offer, if only because it meant that she'd get a table sooner than if she were to eat alone. Given the great warmth of the reception we received from her, I suspect that was actually the sole reason. As it turns out, The Aussie Madam's coworker is apparently not a huge fan of people, The Aussie Madam especially. After attempting to make polite small talk with the coworker, it quickly dawned on me that this girl sucked. She sucked hard. Throughout the meal The Girl Who Sucked was curt, dismissive, spent most of her time texting people on her phone, and made absolutely no effort whatsoever to involve herself in the conversation or get to know us. The Girl Who Sucked was so bloody Bah Hambug that when she finally got up to go to the bathroom, the three of us stared at each other in stunned silence for a few moments. After taking moment to collect her thoughts, The Hoover spoke first. "Is she angry or something?" My response: "Dude, that chick sucks!" We quickly come to agreement that The Girl Who Sucked sucked so hard that it was shocking that her mother hadn't spontaneously aborted her as a fetus. Thankfully, The Girl Who Sucked finished her meal very quickly and took her miserable ass elsewhere. Roughly half an hour after The Girl Who Sucked's departure, The Aussie Madam received the following text message from her: Thank your friends for the crudest dinner conversation that I've ever had. Bah Fucking Humbug, eh?
The Hoover felt that Christmas wasn't Christmas without a religious experience. We collected our other friend, SGTF (She's Got The Fever) and made our way to the closest church. The "church" looked more or less like a kimbap restaurant with a cross on the wall and a picture with Jesus and Friends on the door. The Hoover decided that instead of going in, she'd just have a photo op in front of the building. Me being the dirty little attention whore that I am decided that I wanted in on this action too. Naturally, I put a leg in the air over the photo of Jesus and friends and posed for a shot. As I was holding this pose, which SGTF suggested looked somewhat like I was pissing on Jesus, a couple of men from the church walked passed us. I temporarily feared a verbal lashing in response to the graphic disrespect that I was showing their church. I had clearly forgotten that I was in Korea. As opposed to questioning what we were doing or looking alarmed, the men remarked: "so beautiful!" That's right, folks. Pissing on Jesus is a beautiful thing. Only in Korea Land.
Sometime after this I encouraged the girls to go out drinking. Again. As a result, I missed the last train back to Busan. When I arrived at the train station at 3am they advised me that the next train left at 6am. I considered my options and decided that instead of getting a hotel room that I'd hit up a PC Bang (internet cafe) for a couple of hours. In that PC Bang around 4:30am, I finally let go and did what I had wanted to do for the last couple of days: I cried. I cried, half a world away from the place that I'm supposed to belong; a place that I never felt I belonged in the first place.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Barbie Steals Free Hugs
My Christmas Even 2007 "celebrations" are best appreciated if you keep in mind that it's been a rather lonely few days. That's not to say that Barbie has any reason to be lonely, exactly. I am constantly surrounded by people here; whether I like it or not. When I need people to go drink with, I can find people to drink with. When I need to grab a meal, I can find somebody who will get some grub with me. If I need a lay, I could probably find that too. When I want everybody to fuck off and die, I go to the only place that I don't find people: my apartment. No, I'm not lacking in things or people to do. I'm just overwhelmed by the sense that nothing that really matters to me is here. Miss Independence is fully getting her pout-on over having missed Christmas with her family and friends. The result of this was that I felt compelled to keep myself busy doing crazy shit in the vain hope that I could distract myself for long enough to make it through the holidays without tears.
To start off, the plans that I had made to have Christmas in Busan appeared to be falling through in a serious way. A friend of mine in Busan, whom I shall refer to as The Golden Drunk, wasn't able to promise her attendance at the event. As I faced the prospect of getting ditched on Christmas in Busan, I hopped on the first train to Daegu after work on Christmas Eve. The plan was to meet up with a few friends in Daegu, get drunk off my ass, and try to keep the holiday blues away by keeping things Random and Ridiculous. There was no solid plan on when exactly I would leave Daegu or where the Hell I would stay when there; merely the obligation to be in Busan in time for my 3:50pm class on Boxing Day. No good could possibly come of this.
I'll spare you 37 detailed paragraphs on Tuesday night, if only because Christmas Eve 2007 will never be anything more than a ridiculous blur to me. I absolutely drank my face off. Somehow. I don't remember there be any more than 8 drinks, so I'm confused as to how this happened. But it happened. Some of the things that may or may have not actually occurred would include:
1) Nobody seemed to be able to verify that the subway station would be open the next day. Forgetting for a moment that Korea totally hates Jesus, I humoured the ridiculous possibility that perhaps the subway would close on Christmas. The result was that for the entire night I had to carry around a fucking portable computer bag which contained clean underwear, toothpaste, and other personal essentials. Awesome.
2) There was an Ugly Sweater Contest going on at some bar that we weren't actually at. Upon learning this, for some reason I got really excited at the prospect of ugly sweaters and began insisting that we hop bars in search of them. My goal was to obtain one of these ugly sweaters. The idea was to get one without having to sleep with anybody for it, but somehow nobody really believed me.
3) A friend of somebody whom I used to work with happens to be in Daegu. I ran into him as the first bar after randomly hearing somebody call out "Peterborough!" as I walked by his table. So, my Christmas wasn't entirely lacking in The Peterborough. This makes for the second Peterborough-ite that I've stumbled across in Daegu. Apparently Peterborough blows so hard that we end up on the other side of the world.
4) Somehow we ended up hopping to a third bar. I'm not sure what prompted this, or how we got there. I certainly don't remember there being any ugly sweaters there to lure me. All I know is that there are random photos taken in between bars of me putting my legs in the air and mounting things, and there are photos of my friends touching random cars and looking like they're ready for a little anal action. It's an absolute mystery to me how any of this happened. I merely know that I should not be allowed outdoors without my brain on, because these things seem to happen.
5) A friend of mine in Daegu, whom I shall refer to as Free Hugger, decided there was no time like the present at Old School for the group of us to do a round of tequila shots. Normally, I am the Fucking Tequila Queen. Tequila and Frat Boys are one in the same to me: I have infinite amounts of fun with both and can't seem to keep off of either, but neither is a particularly fantastic idea. This time was no different. That tequila hit me like a rock and I had the spins for the next 20 minutes. The result of this was that we had to spend those 20 minutes hanging out with these guys who completely, and totally sucked. They sucked so hard that Free Hugger felt the need to text me from across the table with: "dude, these guys suck!!!" Thanks for the memo, Free Hugger. I totally hadn't noticed.
When it finally comes time that I feel I can get up without immediately falling over, I begin gathering my belongings and explain that we can leave now. Free Hugger explains that it actually might be best if we chill for another 5 minutes or so, because he just threw up in the bathroom and needs a moment. Naturally, I then laugh in his face, as this totally makes me feel like less of a drunk asshole for having kept them at the bar with The Guys That Suck. Free Hugger manages to redeem himself a few minutes later by getting rid of The Guys That Suck. Of course,I get an assist here, since Free Hugger used me and my drunken stupor as our excuse for why we couldn't hop to the next bar with them.
6) I've determined that I need to be kept far, far away from phones when I'm drinking. When I first started drinking in Korea, I would regularly make drunk calls home from public pay phones. This never turned out well. Now that I have a cell phone, I apparently think that it's totally okay to text in search of inappropriate activities at ungodly times in the morning. In other words, I apparently thought that Christmas Eve was a really good time to try to work out a booty call. Note to self: when drunk, hide the cell phone. Or don't. While my idiocy is occasionally embarrassing, I'm told that other people find it greatly entertaining.
7) We decided to conclude the evening by eating at some Korean Restaurant that my friend, whom shall be referred to as SGTF (She's Got The Fever), seems to drag me to every time that I drink with her. Frankly, I prefer McDonald's drunk. The things that I do for other people. Tsk. Regardless, on the way to said restaurant, SGTF finds a sign in the middle of the road that reads: "Free Hugs!" You see, for some reason which is completely beyond me, random Koreans like to sometimes go out in public with these signs. Probably because they don't touch each other nearly enough. My response to being advised of this was to pick it up, proudly wave it around, and carry it to the restaurant with us. I would have happily carried it all the way back to Busan, but Free Hugger seemed really keen on bringing it to his Christmas Day party. It being Christmas and all, and my being so fucking fantastic, I decide to let him have it.
And that? More or less concludes Christmas Eve 2007. Totally unfortunate, I know.
To start off, the plans that I had made to have Christmas in Busan appeared to be falling through in a serious way. A friend of mine in Busan, whom I shall refer to as The Golden Drunk, wasn't able to promise her attendance at the event. As I faced the prospect of getting ditched on Christmas in Busan, I hopped on the first train to Daegu after work on Christmas Eve. The plan was to meet up with a few friends in Daegu, get drunk off my ass, and try to keep the holiday blues away by keeping things Random and Ridiculous. There was no solid plan on when exactly I would leave Daegu or where the Hell I would stay when there; merely the obligation to be in Busan in time for my 3:50pm class on Boxing Day. No good could possibly come of this.
I'll spare you 37 detailed paragraphs on Tuesday night, if only because Christmas Eve 2007 will never be anything more than a ridiculous blur to me. I absolutely drank my face off. Somehow. I don't remember there be any more than 8 drinks, so I'm confused as to how this happened. But it happened. Some of the things that may or may have not actually occurred would include:
1) Nobody seemed to be able to verify that the subway station would be open the next day. Forgetting for a moment that Korea totally hates Jesus, I humoured the ridiculous possibility that perhaps the subway would close on Christmas. The result was that for the entire night I had to carry around a fucking portable computer bag which contained clean underwear, toothpaste, and other personal essentials. Awesome.
2) There was an Ugly Sweater Contest going on at some bar that we weren't actually at. Upon learning this, for some reason I got really excited at the prospect of ugly sweaters and began insisting that we hop bars in search of them. My goal was to obtain one of these ugly sweaters. The idea was to get one without having to sleep with anybody for it, but somehow nobody really believed me.
3) A friend of somebody whom I used to work with happens to be in Daegu. I ran into him as the first bar after randomly hearing somebody call out "Peterborough!" as I walked by his table. So, my Christmas wasn't entirely lacking in The Peterborough. This makes for the second Peterborough-ite that I've stumbled across in Daegu. Apparently Peterborough blows so hard that we end up on the other side of the world.
4) Somehow we ended up hopping to a third bar. I'm not sure what prompted this, or how we got there. I certainly don't remember there being any ugly sweaters there to lure me. All I know is that there are random photos taken in between bars of me putting my legs in the air and mounting things, and there are photos of my friends touching random cars and looking like they're ready for a little anal action. It's an absolute mystery to me how any of this happened. I merely know that I should not be allowed outdoors without my brain on, because these things seem to happen.
5) A friend of mine in Daegu, whom I shall refer to as Free Hugger, decided there was no time like the present at Old School for the group of us to do a round of tequila shots. Normally, I am the Fucking Tequila Queen. Tequila and Frat Boys are one in the same to me: I have infinite amounts of fun with both and can't seem to keep off of either, but neither is a particularly fantastic idea. This time was no different. That tequila hit me like a rock and I had the spins for the next 20 minutes. The result of this was that we had to spend those 20 minutes hanging out with these guys who completely, and totally sucked. They sucked so hard that Free Hugger felt the need to text me from across the table with: "dude, these guys suck!!!" Thanks for the memo, Free Hugger. I totally hadn't noticed.
When it finally comes time that I feel I can get up without immediately falling over, I begin gathering my belongings and explain that we can leave now. Free Hugger explains that it actually might be best if we chill for another 5 minutes or so, because he just threw up in the bathroom and needs a moment. Naturally, I then laugh in his face, as this totally makes me feel like less of a drunk asshole for having kept them at the bar with The Guys That Suck. Free Hugger manages to redeem himself a few minutes later by getting rid of The Guys That Suck. Of course,I get an assist here, since Free Hugger used me and my drunken stupor as our excuse for why we couldn't hop to the next bar with them.
6) I've determined that I need to be kept far, far away from phones when I'm drinking. When I first started drinking in Korea, I would regularly make drunk calls home from public pay phones. This never turned out well. Now that I have a cell phone, I apparently think that it's totally okay to text in search of inappropriate activities at ungodly times in the morning. In other words, I apparently thought that Christmas Eve was a really good time to try to work out a booty call. Note to self: when drunk, hide the cell phone. Or don't. While my idiocy is occasionally embarrassing, I'm told that other people find it greatly entertaining.
7) We decided to conclude the evening by eating at some Korean Restaurant that my friend, whom shall be referred to as SGTF (She's Got The Fever), seems to drag me to every time that I drink with her. Frankly, I prefer McDonald's drunk. The things that I do for other people. Tsk. Regardless, on the way to said restaurant, SGTF finds a sign in the middle of the road that reads: "Free Hugs!" You see, for some reason which is completely beyond me, random Koreans like to sometimes go out in public with these signs. Probably because they don't touch each other nearly enough. My response to being advised of this was to pick it up, proudly wave it around, and carry it to the restaurant with us. I would have happily carried it all the way back to Busan, but Free Hugger seemed really keen on bringing it to his Christmas Day party. It being Christmas and all, and my being so fucking fantastic, I decide to let him have it.
And that? More or less concludes Christmas Eve 2007. Totally unfortunate, I know.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Big White Barbie Does Daegu - Episode 2
The original plan had been to return to Busan on the last train, around 11:40 pm. I actually left for Daegu thinking that this was a really good idea. I was hung over as Hell, only slepy 5 hours, and didn't forsee myself lasting until the 7am train. I clearly overestimated my ability to make intelligent choices after a few drinks. My train of thought probably went something like this:
Rebecca turns to the people beside her "Wait... wait... you mean that people are actually going to go to the bar after this thing? What an idea! Yo, Ann! Want to, like, hang out here a while and stuff?!" I'm painfully predictable, really.
I would like to blame the entire thing on my friend from university (Rick), whom dropped at least two drinks my way when I wasn't looking. Sadly, they were not roofied, so I have to bear at least some of the responsibility here. Maybe next trip there will be roofies. Cross your fingers for me.
The first stop after the event for Ann and I was Rick's apartment. Rick had to stop off at his apartment prior to heading to the bar so that he could drop off his soap. You see, a lot of bathrooms here tend to use bars of soap rather than hand-soap dispensers. Needless to say, this is more than just a little fucking gross. I'd rather lick my hands clean than touch those bars of soap, but that's just me. Most people either suck it up and use the damn soap, carry their own hand sanitizer, or just don't bother at all. Rick takes things to the extreme by carrying his own bars of soap everywhere that he goes. He takes OCD to a whole new level. It's impressive, really. Almost as impressive as my ability to make up tall tales on the spot! Soap was actually one of the raffle prizes, which Rick happened to win 18 of. I haven't the faintest idea whether or not he usually carries around his own soap, nor do I intend on asking.
After making sure that the soap was safe and sound, the three of us made way for the "main street" near Rick's apartment in the hopes of finding a cab. This was quite possibly the lamest "main street" that I've seen in Korea so far. We had to wait 5 minutes for a cab! There is always a line up of cabs waiting just for me near Minam Junction, so this blew my mind. 5 minutes! For a moment, I thought that Korea was broken.
Our first stop "downtown" was some bar called Somethingorother. There were people in and stuff, but we didn't stick. I was too busy hugging posts outside or something to really care if we went to another bar, but Ann and Rick seemed to think that finding other people would be a good idea. Whatever. I was quite happy with my inflatable post (at least a couple of my favourite bastards from back home read that line and thought "some things never change!" Pricks).
Somehow I managed to seperate myself from the post just in time to end up in some bar called MonkeyswithSTDs, or something quite like that. I'm itching as I write this; probably just an unfortunate coincidence. Regardless, I decided that this was a good time to start feeding Ann beer. I'd already passed her my shot of Jag and watched her down vodka from a random 26er that a perfect stranger was carrying up the street... what was a little beer going to hurt? Her sense of balance, apparently. I later got a lecture on not going shot for shot with Korean women, as these sort of things tend to happen. If anything, I actually did her a favour. Thanks to her lack of balance, she took a break and got some fresh air! And she didn't come into work Monday sporting an uncomfortable itch. Coincidence? I think not. I'm a real pal. Always taking one for the team and such.
A couple of the people we were with bored of MonkeyswithSTDs rather quickly and wanted to jump. I would have happily contracted random STDs all night, much like I would have gladly stayed outside and hugged inflatable polls all night, but as I'm a team player and all, I decided that I fould follow suit and join the bar hop.
What followed MonkeyswithSTDs was, in order: random bar, kimbap restaurant, random bar, Burger King. Rick wimped out sometime around Kimbap restaurant time. I somehow managed to carry a drink from the first random bar, to the kimbap restaurant, and then to our final bar. One of the people that were with us was giving me a hard time about it. As I explained to him, I was comfortably rocked. I can't sully my reputation as an all-night-party-machine (now my favourite bastards back home are looking at each other in confusion and wondering how on earth I determined myself to be worthy of this moniker) by drinking beyond my limits! I am a responsible party animal, damnit! Drink until you're having a blast, then nurse the night away. That's my mantra and I'm sticking to it. Don't even think about offering me a shot of Soju.
Blah... then some other stuff happened. I'll post the rest tomorrow, damnit. I'm long winded and need to get out of here. The people at my PC Bang like to jack the heat every time I come in. I think that they're trying to get me naked. Apparently they didn't get the memo that coffee and a hot room are not the key to a girl's pants.
Rebecca turns to the people beside her "Wait... wait... you mean that people are actually going to go to the bar after this thing? What an idea! Yo, Ann! Want to, like, hang out here a while and stuff?!" I'm painfully predictable, really.
I would like to blame the entire thing on my friend from university (Rick), whom dropped at least two drinks my way when I wasn't looking. Sadly, they were not roofied, so I have to bear at least some of the responsibility here. Maybe next trip there will be roofies. Cross your fingers for me.
The first stop after the event for Ann and I was Rick's apartment. Rick had to stop off at his apartment prior to heading to the bar so that he could drop off his soap. You see, a lot of bathrooms here tend to use bars of soap rather than hand-soap dispensers. Needless to say, this is more than just a little fucking gross. I'd rather lick my hands clean than touch those bars of soap, but that's just me. Most people either suck it up and use the damn soap, carry their own hand sanitizer, or just don't bother at all. Rick takes things to the extreme by carrying his own bars of soap everywhere that he goes. He takes OCD to a whole new level. It's impressive, really. Almost as impressive as my ability to make up tall tales on the spot! Soap was actually one of the raffle prizes, which Rick happened to win 18 of. I haven't the faintest idea whether or not he usually carries around his own soap, nor do I intend on asking.
After making sure that the soap was safe and sound, the three of us made way for the "main street" near Rick's apartment in the hopes of finding a cab. This was quite possibly the lamest "main street" that I've seen in Korea so far. We had to wait 5 minutes for a cab! There is always a line up of cabs waiting just for me near Minam Junction, so this blew my mind. 5 minutes! For a moment, I thought that Korea was broken.
Our first stop "downtown" was some bar called Somethingorother. There were people in and stuff, but we didn't stick. I was too busy hugging posts outside or something to really care if we went to another bar, but Ann and Rick seemed to think that finding other people would be a good idea. Whatever. I was quite happy with my inflatable post (at least a couple of my favourite bastards from back home read that line and thought "some things never change!" Pricks).
Somehow I managed to seperate myself from the post just in time to end up in some bar called MonkeyswithSTDs, or something quite like that. I'm itching as I write this; probably just an unfortunate coincidence. Regardless, I decided that this was a good time to start feeding Ann beer. I'd already passed her my shot of Jag and watched her down vodka from a random 26er that a perfect stranger was carrying up the street... what was a little beer going to hurt? Her sense of balance, apparently. I later got a lecture on not going shot for shot with Korean women, as these sort of things tend to happen. If anything, I actually did her a favour. Thanks to her lack of balance, she took a break and got some fresh air! And she didn't come into work Monday sporting an uncomfortable itch. Coincidence? I think not. I'm a real pal. Always taking one for the team and such.
A couple of the people we were with bored of MonkeyswithSTDs rather quickly and wanted to jump. I would have happily contracted random STDs all night, much like I would have gladly stayed outside and hugged inflatable polls all night, but as I'm a team player and all, I decided that I fould follow suit and join the bar hop.
What followed MonkeyswithSTDs was, in order: random bar, kimbap restaurant, random bar, Burger King. Rick wimped out sometime around Kimbap restaurant time. I somehow managed to carry a drink from the first random bar, to the kimbap restaurant, and then to our final bar. One of the people that were with us was giving me a hard time about it. As I explained to him, I was comfortably rocked. I can't sully my reputation as an all-night-party-machine (now my favourite bastards back home are looking at each other in confusion and wondering how on earth I determined myself to be worthy of this moniker) by drinking beyond my limits! I am a responsible party animal, damnit! Drink until you're having a blast, then nurse the night away. That's my mantra and I'm sticking to it. Don't even think about offering me a shot of Soju.
Blah... then some other stuff happened. I'll post the rest tomorrow, damnit. I'm long winded and need to get out of here. The people at my PC Bang like to jack the heat every time I come in. I think that they're trying to get me naked. Apparently they didn't get the memo that coffee and a hot room are not the key to a girl's pants.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Big White Barbie Does Daegu : Episode 1
I figured that it was about time for a change. After 6 weeks in Busan I was getting comfortable enough with my surroundings that everything suddenly seemed less fascinating. That, or I suddenly became less fascinating and was unable to appreciate the awesomeness that surrounded me as a result of this...? Scoff! Impossible. There is simply too much awesome here for it to depreciate to that level!
A friend of mine from the good ol' University of Guelph happens to be living in Daegu. A while ago he brought my attention to a charity event that was being held there this past weekend. My usual sarcasm and attitude aside for a moment, this event was held to raise money for two very good causes. To summarize, half of the money raised was going to support children in Kenya, and the other half was going to fund medical care for children in Korea who can't otherwise afford it. For more information, click here
Originally I was going to just donate a few bucks, but not actually go. "Daegu is too far, I'm tired!", was my working excuse. As it turns out this is a really crappy excuse; it needs even more work than I had thought. It actually takes me longer get to parts of Busan via subway than it does for me to get to Daegu on the KTX. In other words, the travel time is negligible. Of course, hardly anybody that I met that night seemed to realize this. Hence, I spent the entire night explaining to people that yes, I had in fact come alllll the way from Busan! Blowing minds is what I do best. Before this turns into another rant on how I'm so bloody amazing that I felt the need to spread the awesome around Korea, I'll point out that I only ever made it up to Daegu because my coworker really wanted to go to the event. Apparently I'm not quite as awesome as I thought, eh?
I have the misfortune of working early Saturday afternoon; as a result, my coworker (from here on out known as "Ann") and I could not depart for Daegu until about 3pm. Had time permitted, it would have been better to go earlier and take in some sights during the day. This is what I get for agreeing to tutor on Saturday.
Departing Busan around 3pm meant that we had about an hour of daylight left once we arrived in Daegu. It was vitally important that we used this time wisely. Hugging random statues that I found and posing in front of signs at the train station like an asshole were absolute musts. As was stopping by my friend's apartment in order to see if it was bigger than mine or not. It wasn't, natch. In case you've forgotten, my apartment is amazing. A fucking castle, fit for the princess that I am. I digress.
The event itself kicked off around 7pm; it was due to start earlier, but this is Korea. Among other things, there was a buffet dinner, swing dancing, fire dancing, belly dancing, a magic show, a round of speed dating, and not nearly enough free booze. Isn't it about time that charities gave back a little by liquoring people up? They almost made up for this by providing actual beef at the buffet. I had not eaten real beef since leaving Canada. I've had a McDonald's hamburger here and there, but who knows that the Hell that is made of. Everything else that I ate was just filler as my taste buds prepared themselves for, and then recovered from the wonderful beef. Ah, beef. How I miss you. I'm getting a bit carried away here; it's not that I can't buy beef here, in Busan. It's just that I'm a cheap bastard and pork is way, way, wayyyy cheaper. But not nearly as good. Sigh. Moving on, all of the dancing hooplah was enjoyable. The fire throwing lady and belly dancers weren't particularly fond of clothing. Neither am I, so I understand their angst. "Speed dating" was mildly entertaining. I thought that it would be a good way to practice my questionable social skills without actually having to deal with anybody for more than a few minutes at a time. I was correct. Overall, the event was pretty fantastic. More importantly, they raised something like $7000 CAN to share between the two causes.
I concluded from my experiences at the event that in my next life I should be a fire throwing belly dancer who can make birds appear from thin air and fly out of her hands. Is this asking a bit much, perhaps? Because I'm willing to just settle for the bird bit, as I'm almost certain that the key to everybody's pants lies in being able to make birds appear in and then fly out of your hands.
As there tend to be any time I decide that staying out the entire night is a good idea, there were some shenanigans to follow the event. Stay tuned for Episode 2.
A friend of mine from the good ol' University of Guelph happens to be living in Daegu. A while ago he brought my attention to a charity event that was being held there this past weekend. My usual sarcasm and attitude aside for a moment, this event was held to raise money for two very good causes. To summarize, half of the money raised was going to support children in Kenya, and the other half was going to fund medical care for children in Korea who can't otherwise afford it. For more information, click here
Originally I was going to just donate a few bucks, but not actually go. "Daegu is too far, I'm tired!", was my working excuse. As it turns out this is a really crappy excuse; it needs even more work than I had thought. It actually takes me longer get to parts of Busan via subway than it does for me to get to Daegu on the KTX. In other words, the travel time is negligible. Of course, hardly anybody that I met that night seemed to realize this. Hence, I spent the entire night explaining to people that yes, I had in fact come alllll the way from Busan! Blowing minds is what I do best. Before this turns into another rant on how I'm so bloody amazing that I felt the need to spread the awesome around Korea, I'll point out that I only ever made it up to Daegu because my coworker really wanted to go to the event. Apparently I'm not quite as awesome as I thought, eh?
I have the misfortune of working early Saturday afternoon; as a result, my coworker (from here on out known as "Ann") and I could not depart for Daegu until about 3pm. Had time permitted, it would have been better to go earlier and take in some sights during the day. This is what I get for agreeing to tutor on Saturday.
Departing Busan around 3pm meant that we had about an hour of daylight left once we arrived in Daegu. It was vitally important that we used this time wisely. Hugging random statues that I found and posing in front of signs at the train station like an asshole were absolute musts. As was stopping by my friend's apartment in order to see if it was bigger than mine or not. It wasn't, natch. In case you've forgotten, my apartment is amazing. A fucking castle, fit for the princess that I am. I digress.
The event itself kicked off around 7pm; it was due to start earlier, but this is Korea. Among other things, there was a buffet dinner, swing dancing, fire dancing, belly dancing, a magic show, a round of speed dating, and not nearly enough free booze. Isn't it about time that charities gave back a little by liquoring people up? They almost made up for this by providing actual beef at the buffet. I had not eaten real beef since leaving Canada. I've had a McDonald's hamburger here and there, but who knows that the Hell that is made of. Everything else that I ate was just filler as my taste buds prepared themselves for, and then recovered from the wonderful beef. Ah, beef. How I miss you. I'm getting a bit carried away here; it's not that I can't buy beef here, in Busan. It's just that I'm a cheap bastard and pork is way, way, wayyyy cheaper. But not nearly as good. Sigh. Moving on, all of the dancing hooplah was enjoyable. The fire throwing lady and belly dancers weren't particularly fond of clothing. Neither am I, so I understand their angst. "Speed dating" was mildly entertaining. I thought that it would be a good way to practice my questionable social skills without actually having to deal with anybody for more than a few minutes at a time. I was correct. Overall, the event was pretty fantastic. More importantly, they raised something like $7000 CAN to share between the two causes.
I concluded from my experiences at the event that in my next life I should be a fire throwing belly dancer who can make birds appear from thin air and fly out of her hands. Is this asking a bit much, perhaps? Because I'm willing to just settle for the bird bit, as I'm almost certain that the key to everybody's pants lies in being able to make birds appear in and then fly out of your hands.
As there tend to be any time I decide that staying out the entire night is a good idea, there were some shenanigans to follow the event. Stay tuned for Episode 2.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Big White Barbie Misses Poutine
There aren't really many material things that I miss from home. Busan is a large city and there is very little that I have been unable to find for myself here. Nearly everything that I would have listed as either essentials or trivial desires prior to coming and then some are available to me, often for cheaper than they would be at home.
I was told prior to departure that I ought to bring a lot of deodorant as it's extremely difficult to find here. Now, I'm not sure where exactly this rumour took off, but I found deodorant without even bloody looking for it. It is a little bit more expensive here and there isn't as much variety, but seriously: How essential is it for you to have your favourite kind of deodorant at 4 bucks a pop? My having to pay an extra two-three bucks per pop every couple of months is hardly going to break the bank. Given how little it costs if almost everything else here, it's a fair trade off.
It was also recommended to me prior to leaving Canada that I bring a ton of my favourite feminine products. God forbid I not use Tampax! If I don't have my favourite blue plastic applicator with finger grips I will just die! Seriously? This just in: Korean women menstrate too! And sometimes they even use feminine products to stop the flow! Hence, it was grossly unnecessary to pack a four month supply of tampons. I could have used that space for cans of gravy, the one thing that I seem unable to find in abundance here.
I didn't bring a computer or phone to Korea, nor do I intend on purchases either for a while yet. I'm driving my friends and coworkers here mad by refusing to foot the bill for a cheap phone. I'm cheap, okay? It's how I roll. Eventually I'm going to realize that this is dramatically impacting my social life, but right now I like that I can only be found when I want to be.
I could drag this post out... but I'm tired. My throat hurts. This morning I was in such a funk that I thought I was snapping. Again. Then I remembered that I just get horrible bouts of PMS. That is more than likely all it was, given that it went away shortly after I remembered that. Regardless, I don't really miss anything material from home at all. Everything I need to buy can be bought here.
The lack of cheap, abundant deodorant options is not to blame for my sleepless nights in Busan.
I was told prior to departure that I ought to bring a lot of deodorant as it's extremely difficult to find here. Now, I'm not sure where exactly this rumour took off, but I found deodorant without even bloody looking for it. It is a little bit more expensive here and there isn't as much variety, but seriously: How essential is it for you to have your favourite kind of deodorant at 4 bucks a pop? My having to pay an extra two-three bucks per pop every couple of months is hardly going to break the bank. Given how little it costs if almost everything else here, it's a fair trade off.
It was also recommended to me prior to leaving Canada that I bring a ton of my favourite feminine products. God forbid I not use Tampax! If I don't have my favourite blue plastic applicator with finger grips I will just die! Seriously? This just in: Korean women menstrate too! And sometimes they even use feminine products to stop the flow! Hence, it was grossly unnecessary to pack a four month supply of tampons. I could have used that space for cans of gravy, the one thing that I seem unable to find in abundance here.
I didn't bring a computer or phone to Korea, nor do I intend on purchases either for a while yet. I'm driving my friends and coworkers here mad by refusing to foot the bill for a cheap phone. I'm cheap, okay? It's how I roll. Eventually I'm going to realize that this is dramatically impacting my social life, but right now I like that I can only be found when I want to be.
I could drag this post out... but I'm tired. My throat hurts. This morning I was in such a funk that I thought I was snapping. Again. Then I remembered that I just get horrible bouts of PMS. That is more than likely all it was, given that it went away shortly after I remembered that. Regardless, I don't really miss anything material from home at all. Everything I need to buy can be bought here.
The lack of cheap, abundant deodorant options is not to blame for my sleepless nights in Busan.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Big White Barbie Goes to Work
Rumour has it that I actually have a job. Given my state of affairs prior to departing for South Korea, this likely was met with a good deal of shock from some of you. Before I leave my beloved internet cafe this evening with my reputation as a lazy pain in the ass completely in shambles, I'd like to dispel this speculation before things really get out of hand. Big White Barbie does, in fact, have a job. Given how much time she has to spend at internet cafes writing about herself in the third person, exactly how serious a position she holds is entirely yours to judge.
I teach English as a Foreign Language (EFL) at a small private institute in Busan, South Korea. Such institutes are known as hagwons. My loosely worded one-year contract calls for 30 teaching hours per week, which I'm fairly compensated for. The rent for my apartment is paid for by my boss, as is the airfare to and from Toronto. Hence, my actually pay check is essentially a hefty spending allowance, given the cost of living here.
Based on the stipulations of my contract and the expectations set by my recruiter, I arrived in Korea expecting to work 8 hours per day, 6 of which would be spent in a classroom with a Korean coteacher. I learned quickly that that in Korea, contracts aren't meant to be taken literally and recruiters are never to be trusted. Fortunately in my case, this worked to my advantage. One teaching "hour" is, in reality, 45 minutes. I "teach" 4.5 hours per day. I spend 6-7 hours at the institute. The time not spent teaching is spent talking to coworkers, preparing for class, and generally just sitting around with my thumb up my ass.
I teach students at all degrees of fluency and ages. My youngest student is 5 and my oldest is in her 40's. Some of my students can carry on entire conversations with me. Others, I lose at Hello. Some are wonderfully kind. Others are intollerable brats. I will detail the benefits and drawbacks of my different classes in subsequent posts.
When I'm sitting in a classroom with my students, I take my role seriously. How I define my role is quite different from how I would define the role of a teacher back home. I am not paid to be an educator. I'm paid to be a native speaking English face. While my being white and female is a bonus and certainly prefered, it's not a necessity to finding work here. University educated native English speakers are in high demand here; there are more jobs available than can possibly be filled. Some of these jobs are a scam, but others are quite good. I have been fortunate enough to find the latter. Yet, I'm still not truly and educator. The students don't respect me as they would respect their Korean teachers. Given that my Korean coteachers seemingly put in far more work than I do, perhaps it would be wrong of me to expect the same respect. My unofficial job description is merely to show up on time, go to class, look presentable, and be the Canadian English Speaking Puppet for 4.5 hours a day.
This is how the moniker Big White Barbie came to be. It rolls of the tongue a little better than the former.
So, those of you fearing that I've become a mature, responsible adult need not worry. I'm still a lazy, entitled prick. And I've actually found a place willing to pay fulltime wages for partime work which asks nothing more of me than what comes naturally.
I teach English as a Foreign Language (EFL) at a small private institute in Busan, South Korea. Such institutes are known as hagwons. My loosely worded one-year contract calls for 30 teaching hours per week, which I'm fairly compensated for. The rent for my apartment is paid for by my boss, as is the airfare to and from Toronto. Hence, my actually pay check is essentially a hefty spending allowance, given the cost of living here.
Based on the stipulations of my contract and the expectations set by my recruiter, I arrived in Korea expecting to work 8 hours per day, 6 of which would be spent in a classroom with a Korean coteacher. I learned quickly that that in Korea, contracts aren't meant to be taken literally and recruiters are never to be trusted. Fortunately in my case, this worked to my advantage. One teaching "hour" is, in reality, 45 minutes. I "teach" 4.5 hours per day. I spend 6-7 hours at the institute. The time not spent teaching is spent talking to coworkers, preparing for class, and generally just sitting around with my thumb up my ass.
I teach students at all degrees of fluency and ages. My youngest student is 5 and my oldest is in her 40's. Some of my students can carry on entire conversations with me. Others, I lose at Hello. Some are wonderfully kind. Others are intollerable brats. I will detail the benefits and drawbacks of my different classes in subsequent posts.
When I'm sitting in a classroom with my students, I take my role seriously. How I define my role is quite different from how I would define the role of a teacher back home. I am not paid to be an educator. I'm paid to be a native speaking English face. While my being white and female is a bonus and certainly prefered, it's not a necessity to finding work here. University educated native English speakers are in high demand here; there are more jobs available than can possibly be filled. Some of these jobs are a scam, but others are quite good. I have been fortunate enough to find the latter. Yet, I'm still not truly and educator. The students don't respect me as they would respect their Korean teachers. Given that my Korean coteachers seemingly put in far more work than I do, perhaps it would be wrong of me to expect the same respect. My unofficial job description is merely to show up on time, go to class, look presentable, and be the Canadian English Speaking Puppet for 4.5 hours a day.
This is how the moniker Big White Barbie came to be. It rolls of the tongue a little better than the former.
So, those of you fearing that I've become a mature, responsible adult need not worry. I'm still a lazy, entitled prick. And I've actually found a place willing to pay fulltime wages for partime work which asks nothing more of me than what comes naturally.
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