Busan, Korea, December 21, 2011.
About a month ago, Bianca and I became friends on Facebook with this woman. I'm not going to share her name here, but I'll give you some information about her. She is a Korean woman living in Busan who sells cellphones for a living, and she is in a relationship with an American guy who teaches English here, always identified in her status updates as “my man”.
Her Facebook status updates are consistently amazing. Here’s her status update from this morning. Enjoy.
"Last night I had to talk about Big Foot for one and half hours with my man at 3:00 a.m which I didn't want to but he got a bit drunk and he was really serious about Big Foot.
After that we went to bed and I had dream that my man I got kidnap from Aliens to their mother ship and they said they are going to attack human beings and we got panic and didn't know what to do.
And suddenly the other Arien brought one Big Foot and it was holding cup ramyen. And Aliens saw that and take that cup ramyen and ate it.
And they said they decided to not attack this planet cause of cup ramyen and they let us go free and we ran and ran and ran till we couldn't run anymore. Yes, with a Big Foot.
All after that, all kind of Aliens in this univers, they are visiting and buying cup ramyen and the earth became a very popular planet in this univers.
So, yesterday I was looking up on internet for find some lego characters because I wanted to make something for orphanage kids for this Christmas (not sure that I can do tho) and randomly saw Darth Vader lego figure and thought about my friend who really likes Darth Vader. And later night my man talked about Big Foot and we ate cup ramyen before go to bed and I had this dream.
This dream reminds me of the movie 'Star Wars' in some way. Maybe version of Korean."
Pure gold. Bigfoot saved them from an Alien attack because there is nothing in the universe more delicious than a cup of ramen noodles.
Bad English
Busan, Korea, December 13, 2011.
I've recently (since moving to Asia) become much more aware of a unique, relatively recent phenomenon. With the advent of widespread global trade, the spread of British and American pop culture, and the establishment of English as the first global lingua franca, English is so hot right now. English.
But there is one dialect of English that's hotter than the rest: Bad English. It's not hard to see why.
"When Paris was queen in the 18th and 19th century, every educated person in Europe spoke French, a trait that lasted into the 20th century. Today, everybody speaks English, or at least Bad English, which is the world's fastest growing language." -Josef Joffe
[By the way, I took all of these pictures this year in Busan and Seoul. Enjoy!]
How should we describe this cup of coffee?
"Coffine Gurunaru wants to be a tree and
a ferry in a river just like a place to rest.
A good quality of coffee and the health
benefits of wine will definitely make your
body and your mind upgrade
and even your pride in your
life. Please take a deserved
break at Coffine Gurunaru.
Coffine Gurunaru is a resting
place for you."
A poem on a box of tissue.
"Scent of a Woman
Your smiles twinkling with a brimful of sunlight,
Your limpid tone of voice like as a dew,
With your sequestered song,
I feel very happy endlessly this moment, now.
Like as a sky after rain,
In your fagrance hanging down from the brimful of
sunlight,
Today, I feel every beautiful day, again."
This boutique shop is called "TiTi club". I was confused at first, because when I was in the Army there was this place the guys called... nevermind. It's not a big deal.
Another boutique shop with a name that makes me feel like a dirty old man. "Romantic Pussy".
This is the sign on one of the boutiques in the underground shopping mall next to the subway.
"Sometimes called an atelier, especially in earlier eras."
I have actually seen a few girls walking around wearing this t-shirt that says "Your Text Goes Here".
"The best ingredient in food is starvation."
I disagree. The best ingredient in food is, you know, the food.
I think this was supposed to say "Summer Beach Festival", but that's not what it says, is it?
Sometimes Bad English is a result of a too-literal translation. I'm sure "Open Minded Ear, Nose and Throat Clinic" sounds better in Korean than it sounds in English.
"What's in your mind? Are you girly, lovable and naive? Are you fatal, bad and sexy?"
On the side of Geumnyeon Mountain, you can enjoy a cup of "STARBUS COFFEE".
I would love to visit New York, New York, AKA "Gottrem City".
I guess whoever started this business to sell hiking clothes didn't look up the word "Blackface" on wikipedia: "Blackface is a form of theatrical makeup used in minstrel shows, and later vaudeville, in which performers create a stereotyped caricature of a black person." Ouch. Is it racist if it's an accident?
When I got here in the summer, the sign in front of this cafe on Gwanganli beach was my favorite example of Bad English.
"Sometimes...
Memory origin space
Maybe, it's..Park"
"Boston, Massachubatts
Est. 1600"
There is a real place called Boston, Massachusetts. It was established in 1630.
This is one of the things you encounter in Korea that's just impossibly cute. It's a notebook that looks like a passport. I saw it in the gift shop at Namsan Tower in Seoul.
"LOOK ME. Thank You. I am Sample."
These t-shirts are trying really hard to be badass, but it's just not working. Street shopping in Myeong-dong, Seoul.
"DEAB OR ALIVE
ONE OR EIGHT
GODSPEED YOU
NUFFSAID!"
"WHEN I DIE
BURY ME FACE DOWN
SO THE WHOLE DOWN
CAN KISS MY ASS!!"
"BOSTON: SINCE 1932"
If you've been reading this post for a few minutes, you might remember that Boston was established in 1630. I thought this might be referring to one of the professional sports teams in Boston, but that doesn't seem to be the case. The Boston Bruins hockey team was established in 1924. The Boston Celtics basketball team was founded in 1946. The Boston Red Sox baseball team was founded in 1901. I guess it's possible that something has been going on in Boston since 1932, but I don't know what that is.
This is a "Character Silicone Skin for the iPhone 4". Nothing out of the ordinary, especially the "MADE IN CHINA" tag. Wait a second... why the hell does it say "I ♥ PORN"?
I don't know. That's the kind of mind-blowing shit you're going to encounter when you expose yourself to Bad English.
I've recently (since moving to Asia) become much more aware of a unique, relatively recent phenomenon. With the advent of widespread global trade, the spread of British and American pop culture, and the establishment of English as the first global lingua franca, English is so hot right now. English.
But there is one dialect of English that's hotter than the rest: Bad English. It's not hard to see why.
"When Paris was queen in the 18th and 19th century, every educated person in Europe spoke French, a trait that lasted into the 20th century. Today, everybody speaks English, or at least Bad English, which is the world's fastest growing language." -Josef Joffe
[By the way, I took all of these pictures this year in Busan and Seoul. Enjoy!]
How should we describe this cup of coffee?
"Coffine Gurunaru wants to be a tree and
a ferry in a river just like a place to rest.
A good quality of coffee and the health
benefits of wine will definitely make your
body and your mind upgrade
and even your pride in your
life. Please take a deserved
break at Coffine Gurunaru.
Coffine Gurunaru is a resting
place for you."
A poem on a box of tissue.
"Scent of a Woman
Your smiles twinkling with a brimful of sunlight,
Your limpid tone of voice like as a dew,
With your sequestered song,
I feel very happy endlessly this moment, now.
Like as a sky after rain,
In your fagrance hanging down from the brimful of
sunlight,
Today, I feel every beautiful day, again."
This boutique shop is called "TiTi club". I was confused at first, because when I was in the Army there was this place the guys called... nevermind. It's not a big deal.
Another boutique shop with a name that makes me feel like a dirty old man. "Romantic Pussy".
This is the sign on one of the boutiques in the underground shopping mall next to the subway.
"Sometimes called an atelier, especially in earlier eras."
I have actually seen a few girls walking around wearing this t-shirt that says "Your Text Goes Here".
"The best ingredient in food is starvation."
I disagree. The best ingredient in food is, you know, the food.
I think this was supposed to say "Summer Beach Festival", but that's not what it says, is it?
Sometimes Bad English is a result of a too-literal translation. I'm sure "Open Minded Ear, Nose and Throat Clinic" sounds better in Korean than it sounds in English.
"What's in your mind? Are you girly, lovable and naive? Are you fatal, bad and sexy?"
On the side of Geumnyeon Mountain, you can enjoy a cup of "STARBUS COFFEE".
I would love to visit New York, New York, AKA "Gottrem City".
I guess whoever started this business to sell hiking clothes didn't look up the word "Blackface" on wikipedia: "Blackface is a form of theatrical makeup used in minstrel shows, and later vaudeville, in which performers create a stereotyped caricature of a black person." Ouch. Is it racist if it's an accident?
When I got here in the summer, the sign in front of this cafe on Gwanganli beach was my favorite example of Bad English.
"Sometimes...
Memory origin space
Maybe, it's..Park"
"Boston, Massachubatts
Est. 1600"
There is a real place called Boston, Massachusetts. It was established in 1630.
This is one of the things you encounter in Korea that's just impossibly cute. It's a notebook that looks like a passport. I saw it in the gift shop at Namsan Tower in Seoul.
"LOOK ME. Thank You. I am Sample."
These t-shirts are trying really hard to be badass, but it's just not working. Street shopping in Myeong-dong, Seoul.
"DEAB OR ALIVE
ONE OR EIGHT
GODSPEED YOU
NUFFSAID!"
"WHEN I DIE
BURY ME FACE DOWN
SO THE WHOLE DOWN
CAN KISS MY ASS!!"
"BOSTON: SINCE 1932"
If you've been reading this post for a few minutes, you might remember that Boston was established in 1630. I thought this might be referring to one of the professional sports teams in Boston, but that doesn't seem to be the case. The Boston Bruins hockey team was established in 1924. The Boston Celtics basketball team was founded in 1946. The Boston Red Sox baseball team was founded in 1901. I guess it's possible that something has been going on in Boston since 1932, but I don't know what that is.
This is a "Character Silicone Skin for the iPhone 4". Nothing out of the ordinary, especially the "MADE IN CHINA" tag. Wait a second... why the hell does it say "I ♥ PORN"?
I don't know. That's the kind of mind-blowing shit you're going to encounter when you expose yourself to Bad English.
Some dark thoughts on a train ride from Seoul to Busan
This is a transcript of a voice recording I made on November 28, 2011 at 11:12am.
I have been thinking about Korea a lot, obviously because I’m in this country, I’ve been here for almost six months, and I think I have really adjusted to living here. I think I have adjusted to the culture and a lot of those types of things. Of course, I’m not Korean, and even if I stay here for twenty years, I never will be Korean.
One of the things I am just blown away with is, “How did this happen? How did Korea go from, sixty years ago, being one of the poorest countries in the world, to now being one of the wealthiest countries in the world?” It’s an incredible accomplishment. I spent some time in Europe last year, I have spent time in a lot of the biggest cities in the U.S., a lot of the wealthiest cities in the U.S., and none of them quite compare to this place.
I feel like if you had gone back in time to 1955 or something and just said, “Using the U.S. as your model, how would you try to build a modern country more or less from scratch?” That’s almost exactly what Korea looks like today. I think about things like the fact that I can ride this train that goes almost 200 miles an hour from the biggest city in Korea to the second biggest city in Korea in less than two hours and it costs me $45 one way, cheaper than a plane ticket.
This morning I woke up and I was in a neighborhood (Hongdae) in Seoul. So I walked for five minutes and then I got on a train, rode the train for twenty minutes to Seoul Station, the central station, and then came up from that train, got in line, got a train ticket, got some McDonald’s breakfast, and then got on the next train bound for Busan. When I get to Busan, I will walk outside the train station, and I am going walk right outside, walk to this bus stop, get on the bus, be on the bus for less than half an hour, and then get off the bus at the stop right in front of my school.
Imagine if that was possible in the U.S. What if you could do that in Houston? What if I could stay with my friends Summer and Matt in Houston, and there was a subway station a few blocks away from their home, and I could take that subway station to downtown Houston, to a place we can call “Houston Station”, and there was this huge central train station in Houston. There were trains that go to the airports, there were trains that go to all the different suburbs, subways that go to the different areas of the city, and then there was a bullet train that went to Dallas and Fort Worth and another one that went to San Antonio and Austin.
I think it would be remarkable. I would be...it’s almost silly to speculate on that, because what we have is so far from that. But why is it silly to speculate on that? Why is it impossible? It’s impossible because we made all these decisions over the last 50 years, and the more I look at them the more it looks like we just made the most irresponsible choices that we could have made.
Instead of investing in our infrastructure of our cities, we built rings of suburbs around them and then let the cities deteriorate. Instead of following up the successes of the civil rights movement with some effort to actually bring Blacks and other minorities up to a level with Whites, we followed the Civil Rights movement with the War on Drugs and Vietnam and all these things that just absolutely brutalized the Black community and set them back...
So here we are, forty years later, and there are neighborhoods in the inner cities of Dallas and Houston, and every other major city that White people just won’t go to, because they are these crime-ridden environments that are just really dangerous and destructive, devastating to people’s lives.
How did we (the U.S.) get from there to here? It seems like such a high level of hubris on our part, to just assume that the world is going to continue down this track where we can continue to be the most successful country in the world. I was thinking abut the history of it, we talk about East meets West, these two cultures that developed more or less separately from each other coming together for the first time and how the West had all these natural advantages over the East, and the East was very slow to adapt to that.
The biggest country in the East, China, waited until the last thirty years to try to adapt. But now it seems like places like that are making all these bold moves. China is building this nationwide high speed rail network from scratch and trying to do it in ten years, at the same time that America’s infrastructure is deteriorating.
I have been thinking about Korea a lot, obviously because I’m in this country, I’ve been here for almost six months, and I think I have really adjusted to living here. I think I have adjusted to the culture and a lot of those types of things. Of course, I’m not Korean, and even if I stay here for twenty years, I never will be Korean.
One of the things I am just blown away with is, “How did this happen? How did Korea go from, sixty years ago, being one of the poorest countries in the world, to now being one of the wealthiest countries in the world?” It’s an incredible accomplishment. I spent some time in Europe last year, I have spent time in a lot of the biggest cities in the U.S., a lot of the wealthiest cities in the U.S., and none of them quite compare to this place.
I feel like if you had gone back in time to 1955 or something and just said, “Using the U.S. as your model, how would you try to build a modern country more or less from scratch?” That’s almost exactly what Korea looks like today. I think about things like the fact that I can ride this train that goes almost 200 miles an hour from the biggest city in Korea to the second biggest city in Korea in less than two hours and it costs me $45 one way, cheaper than a plane ticket.
This morning I woke up and I was in a neighborhood (Hongdae) in Seoul. So I walked for five minutes and then I got on a train, rode the train for twenty minutes to Seoul Station, the central station, and then came up from that train, got in line, got a train ticket, got some McDonald’s breakfast, and then got on the next train bound for Busan. When I get to Busan, I will walk outside the train station, and I am going walk right outside, walk to this bus stop, get on the bus, be on the bus for less than half an hour, and then get off the bus at the stop right in front of my school.
Imagine if that was possible in the U.S. What if you could do that in Houston? What if I could stay with my friends Summer and Matt in Houston, and there was a subway station a few blocks away from their home, and I could take that subway station to downtown Houston, to a place we can call “Houston Station”, and there was this huge central train station in Houston. There were trains that go to the airports, there were trains that go to all the different suburbs, subways that go to the different areas of the city, and then there was a bullet train that went to Dallas and Fort Worth and another one that went to San Antonio and Austin.
I think it would be remarkable. I would be...it’s almost silly to speculate on that, because what we have is so far from that. But why is it silly to speculate on that? Why is it impossible? It’s impossible because we made all these decisions over the last 50 years, and the more I look at them the more it looks like we just made the most irresponsible choices that we could have made.
Instead of investing in our infrastructure of our cities, we built rings of suburbs around them and then let the cities deteriorate. Instead of following up the successes of the civil rights movement with some effort to actually bring Blacks and other minorities up to a level with Whites, we followed the Civil Rights movement with the War on Drugs and Vietnam and all these things that just absolutely brutalized the Black community and set them back...
So here we are, forty years later, and there are neighborhoods in the inner cities of Dallas and Houston, and every other major city that White people just won’t go to, because they are these crime-ridden environments that are just really dangerous and destructive, devastating to people’s lives.
How did we (the U.S.) get from there to here? It seems like such a high level of hubris on our part, to just assume that the world is going to continue down this track where we can continue to be the most successful country in the world. I was thinking abut the history of it, we talk about East meets West, these two cultures that developed more or less separately from each other coming together for the first time and how the West had all these natural advantages over the East, and the East was very slow to adapt to that.
The biggest country in the East, China, waited until the last thirty years to try to adapt. But now it seems like places like that are making all these bold moves. China is building this nationwide high speed rail network from scratch and trying to do it in ten years, at the same time that America’s infrastructure is deteriorating.
Koreans are nice.
Busan, Korea. 12:24am, December 5, 2011.
It’s hard to define exactly what it is that makes Korea such a fun place to live. There are a lot of things that go into it. The cities are well planned and have amazing public transportation. There’s hardly a street corner in Busan or Seoul that doesn’t have a bus stop on it, and in many parts of the city you are never more than a 5-10 minute walk away from the subway.
Korea is something like 70% mountains, and most of those, even in the city, have almost no development on them. From my apartment in downtown Busan, I can be hiking in the mountains within about 20 minutes. There are beautiful steams and creeks on the sides of all these mountains, and breathtakingly beautiful temples on almost all of them.
But I think what I really like about Korea is the people. I have had conversations about this, especially with Bianca. I don’t think Koreans are incredibly polite. It’s not unusual to have someone bump into you walking down the sidewalk. Oh, yeah, you can also be honked at by someone riding a motorcycle on the sidewalk. This strikes me as incredibly rude, and I don’t think I’m going to change my opinion on that anytime soon.
I once heard Bianca tell a Korean, “Korea is such a happy place!” and I agree somewhat, but I think that’s missing the point a little bit. Koreans are pretty stressed. Many are overworked. They are under a lot of pressure to succeed, and the pressure starts early. My middle school students are already worried about getting their test scores up so that they can get into a good university, so that they can get a good job with a big corporation, so that they can get married and support a family... It’s a lot of stress, and I think it gets in the way of really being happy.
Tonight, after spending much of the day sitting around the apartment watching TV shows, I ventured out into my neighborhood to get some bibimbap. One of the staple dishes of the Korean diet, bibimbap is basically rice, vegetables, a spicy paste, and a fried egg, served with side dishes of course. So I went to my usual place and ordered my usual bibimbap.
I noticed a strange voice coming from the table next to me. After observing for a minute, I figured out that the middle aged people sitting at the table, two men and a woman, were all deaf. They were communicating in what I assume is Korean sign language, and also making some of the vocal sounds that I have heard deaf people make before. They noticed me eating my meal, and we kind of nodded at each other and smiled.
Sometimes, when I am hungry, I can eat an enormous meal in less than five minutes. It’s a skill I developed by being a kid, and then perfected when I was in the Army. That’s pretty much what I did with my bibimbap tonight. I wolfed it down. One of my deaf neighbors pantomimed a bulging belly, and I laughed.
The woman offered me some of their gimbap (rice, “bap”, wrapped in seaweed, “gim”). So I got up, walked over to their table with my chopsticks, and ate a piece of their gimbap. Of course I had to exchange handshakes, fist-bumps, and pats on the back with them. I then sat back down at my table to finish my side dishes.
One of the men at the table communicated to the waitress that he wanted to order another plate of gimbap. I realized that he was ordering it for me! So the waitress made a plate of gimbap, put it in a to-go box, tied it in a bag and set it in my backpack.
I went back over to their table for another round of handshakes and fist-bumps. I wanted to say something in Korean to them, but I was afraid they wouldn’t be able to hear it. So I pulled out my flash cards and found the card that says "가는그렉이에요", or “My name is Greg” in Korean. Then I was out the door and back onto the street, with my plate of gimbap that was bought to me by some deaf Koreans who probably don't have as much money as me, and almost certainly have a harder life than mine.
I think I know what makes Korea such an amazing place: the people. They aren’t supernaturally happy, or polite, but they are the friendliest people I have ever met.
Everywhere I have been in this country, Koreans introduce themselves to me, want talk to me in broken English and compliment my very basic Korean, and treat me like family. They always want to buy a meal or a drink, and they always ask about my family. One day I was hiking in the mountains and stopped to ask a Korean for directions. Half an hour later, this guy took me to a little restaurant on the side of the mountain and bought me my fill of pajeon, aged kimchi, and makkeoli (rice wine). Suffice it to say that I was full and a little drunk by the time I got on the bus back down the mountain. Oh, and the old woman who owned the restaurant made me take about a kilogram of her aged kimchi home with me.
I think a language tells you a lot about how the people who speak that language think and act. Korean doesn't really have pronouns. When you’re talking about someone, or to someone, you either refer to them by their name or by your relationship to them. And most of these relationship names that people use are really family names. A Korean girl or woman will refer to an older friend as “unni”, which literally means “my older sister”. My Korean friends tell me that I should call a middle aged woman working at a restaurant or market “imo”, which literally means “my mother’s younger sister”.
All these are words to describe family relationships. And that’s what I’ve found about Koreans. They will go out of there way to treat you like a member of their family. It feels great to be treated that way, especially when you are thousands of miles away from your own family.
It’s hard to define exactly what it is that makes Korea such a fun place to live. There are a lot of things that go into it. The cities are well planned and have amazing public transportation. There’s hardly a street corner in Busan or Seoul that doesn’t have a bus stop on it, and in many parts of the city you are never more than a 5-10 minute walk away from the subway.
Korea is something like 70% mountains, and most of those, even in the city, have almost no development on them. From my apartment in downtown Busan, I can be hiking in the mountains within about 20 minutes. There are beautiful steams and creeks on the sides of all these mountains, and breathtakingly beautiful temples on almost all of them.
But I think what I really like about Korea is the people. I have had conversations about this, especially with Bianca. I don’t think Koreans are incredibly polite. It’s not unusual to have someone bump into you walking down the sidewalk. Oh, yeah, you can also be honked at by someone riding a motorcycle on the sidewalk. This strikes me as incredibly rude, and I don’t think I’m going to change my opinion on that anytime soon.
I once heard Bianca tell a Korean, “Korea is such a happy place!” and I agree somewhat, but I think that’s missing the point a little bit. Koreans are pretty stressed. Many are overworked. They are under a lot of pressure to succeed, and the pressure starts early. My middle school students are already worried about getting their test scores up so that they can get into a good university, so that they can get a good job with a big corporation, so that they can get married and support a family... It’s a lot of stress, and I think it gets in the way of really being happy.
Tonight, after spending much of the day sitting around the apartment watching TV shows, I ventured out into my neighborhood to get some bibimbap. One of the staple dishes of the Korean diet, bibimbap is basically rice, vegetables, a spicy paste, and a fried egg, served with side dishes of course. So I went to my usual place and ordered my usual bibimbap.
I noticed a strange voice coming from the table next to me. After observing for a minute, I figured out that the middle aged people sitting at the table, two men and a woman, were all deaf. They were communicating in what I assume is Korean sign language, and also making some of the vocal sounds that I have heard deaf people make before. They noticed me eating my meal, and we kind of nodded at each other and smiled.
Sometimes, when I am hungry, I can eat an enormous meal in less than five minutes. It’s a skill I developed by being a kid, and then perfected when I was in the Army. That’s pretty much what I did with my bibimbap tonight. I wolfed it down. One of my deaf neighbors pantomimed a bulging belly, and I laughed.
The woman offered me some of their gimbap (rice, “bap”, wrapped in seaweed, “gim”). So I got up, walked over to their table with my chopsticks, and ate a piece of their gimbap. Of course I had to exchange handshakes, fist-bumps, and pats on the back with them. I then sat back down at my table to finish my side dishes.
One of the men at the table communicated to the waitress that he wanted to order another plate of gimbap. I realized that he was ordering it for me! So the waitress made a plate of gimbap, put it in a to-go box, tied it in a bag and set it in my backpack.
I went back over to their table for another round of handshakes and fist-bumps. I wanted to say something in Korean to them, but I was afraid they wouldn’t be able to hear it. So I pulled out my flash cards and found the card that says "가는그렉이에요", or “My name is Greg” in Korean. Then I was out the door and back onto the street, with my plate of gimbap that was bought to me by some deaf Koreans who probably don't have as much money as me, and almost certainly have a harder life than mine.
I think I know what makes Korea such an amazing place: the people. They aren’t supernaturally happy, or polite, but they are the friendliest people I have ever met.
Everywhere I have been in this country, Koreans introduce themselves to me, want talk to me in broken English and compliment my very basic Korean, and treat me like family. They always want to buy a meal or a drink, and they always ask about my family. One day I was hiking in the mountains and stopped to ask a Korean for directions. Half an hour later, this guy took me to a little restaurant on the side of the mountain and bought me my fill of pajeon, aged kimchi, and makkeoli (rice wine). Suffice it to say that I was full and a little drunk by the time I got on the bus back down the mountain. Oh, and the old woman who owned the restaurant made me take about a kilogram of her aged kimchi home with me.
I think a language tells you a lot about how the people who speak that language think and act. Korean doesn't really have pronouns. When you’re talking about someone, or to someone, you either refer to them by their name or by your relationship to them. And most of these relationship names that people use are really family names. A Korean girl or woman will refer to an older friend as “unni”, which literally means “my older sister”. My Korean friends tell me that I should call a middle aged woman working at a restaurant or market “imo”, which literally means “my mother’s younger sister”.
All these are words to describe family relationships. And that’s what I’ve found about Koreans. They will go out of there way to treat you like a member of their family. It feels great to be treated that way, especially when you are thousands of miles away from your own family.
Busan, Korea, August 7, 2011.
I just uploaded several hundred photos to my Flickr page. Please check it out!
On Tuesday I will celebrate my 2 month anniversary in Korea! Time flies!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/fostergregd/
I just uploaded several hundred photos to my Flickr page. Please check it out!
On Tuesday I will celebrate my 2 month anniversary in Korea! Time flies!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/fostergregd/
My first experience with socialized medicine
Busan, Korea, July 25, 2011
So, I had my first real experience with socialized medicine today. Let me tell you how it went.
First, I gotta go back. Back in time to… last week. I noticed about last Wednesday that I was having trouble hearing out of my left ear. For a couple of days, it really bothered me. I kept pinching my nose and trying to blow out the whatever--it-was that was clogging up my ear. By Friday, I thought it was getting better. I could kind of hear alright. By Sunday morning, however, I knew something was wrong.
About two summers ago I got an ear infection. I know where it came from. I was swimming under the waterfall (okay, I know it's just a spillway from the Spring Lake dam, but it's effing beautiful, and I like to call it a waterfall) in San Marcos. Cool, clear water comes flowing over that spillway night and day, and I used to love diving under the waterfall, looking at the fish, and holding my breath as long as I could.
Anyway, this one day I came up right underneath the spillway, and got sprayed with some high pressure water. The same thing happened then that happened last week: I got some water in my ear, and I couldn't get it out. After about a week, I had a serious ear infection on my hands, and I actually ended up driving down to the Audie Murphy VA hospital in San Antonio and sitting in the emergency room for 5 or 6 hours just to see the doctor for 5 minutes and get some antibiotics.
This time, I didn't really notice what caused my ear to get clogged. I guess it was at the gym. I briefly dunked my head under water in the hot tub before I got out to take a shower one day. That must have been it.
When I woke up Sunday morning and my jaw hurt, I was concerned. I tugged at my ear. That hurt too. I was pretty sure, at this point, that I had an ear infection. I wasn't sure what to do about it. Here in Korea, anyone who is slightly ill is told to "go to the hospital". I think that they don't distinguish between the hospital, emergency room, and doctor's office/clinic the way we do. So I called my co-teacher and my supervisor (who speaks very limited English) to try to figure it out. I eventually decided that the best thing for me to do was get up Monday morning and go to the clinic that's in the same building as our school.
I got there this morning at about 11:05. Coincidentally, one of my students (June, a 3rd grader) was walking into the building at the same time as me. I talked to him for a minute, we got on the elevator together, and we both got off on the second floor… then both walked into the clinic. It turns out that his mother works at the clinic, and she was at the front desk. That made my life a little easier, as he took on the task of translating. I showed them my Alien Registration Card (that's what it's really called), they entered my information into the system, and my student showed me in to see the doctor, about 5 minutes after I walked into the clinic with no appointment. The doctor apologized for his limited English, (which wasn't that bad, he definitely knew the word "infected") put the microscope-thingy in both of my ears, typed something in the computer, and then sent me back to the front desk.
The woman working the front desk had me sit down to a machine that was like an infrared heat lamp for my ear, I did that for 3 minutes, then they handed me my prescription and charged me my copay, w12,000 (about $10 US). So far, so good. My student then walked me down to the pharmacy on the first floor, where they gave us each a candy and filled my prescription in another five minutes. By 11:30 I was at my desk, drinking a bottle of water and taking my first round of antibiotics.
Socialized medicine: not too bad. Now I wonder if Rush Limbaugh was lying to me all those years that he said it was a back door to communism.
So, I had my first real experience with socialized medicine today. Let me tell you how it went.
First, I gotta go back. Back in time to… last week. I noticed about last Wednesday that I was having trouble hearing out of my left ear. For a couple of days, it really bothered me. I kept pinching my nose and trying to blow out the whatever--it-was that was clogging up my ear. By Friday, I thought it was getting better. I could kind of hear alright. By Sunday morning, however, I knew something was wrong.
About two summers ago I got an ear infection. I know where it came from. I was swimming under the waterfall (okay, I know it's just a spillway from the Spring Lake dam, but it's effing beautiful, and I like to call it a waterfall) in San Marcos. Cool, clear water comes flowing over that spillway night and day, and I used to love diving under the waterfall, looking at the fish, and holding my breath as long as I could.
Anyway, this one day I came up right underneath the spillway, and got sprayed with some high pressure water. The same thing happened then that happened last week: I got some water in my ear, and I couldn't get it out. After about a week, I had a serious ear infection on my hands, and I actually ended up driving down to the Audie Murphy VA hospital in San Antonio and sitting in the emergency room for 5 or 6 hours just to see the doctor for 5 minutes and get some antibiotics.
This time, I didn't really notice what caused my ear to get clogged. I guess it was at the gym. I briefly dunked my head under water in the hot tub before I got out to take a shower one day. That must have been it.
When I woke up Sunday morning and my jaw hurt, I was concerned. I tugged at my ear. That hurt too. I was pretty sure, at this point, that I had an ear infection. I wasn't sure what to do about it. Here in Korea, anyone who is slightly ill is told to "go to the hospital". I think that they don't distinguish between the hospital, emergency room, and doctor's office/clinic the way we do. So I called my co-teacher and my supervisor (who speaks very limited English) to try to figure it out. I eventually decided that the best thing for me to do was get up Monday morning and go to the clinic that's in the same building as our school.
I got there this morning at about 11:05. Coincidentally, one of my students (June, a 3rd grader) was walking into the building at the same time as me. I talked to him for a minute, we got on the elevator together, and we both got off on the second floor… then both walked into the clinic. It turns out that his mother works at the clinic, and she was at the front desk. That made my life a little easier, as he took on the task of translating. I showed them my Alien Registration Card (that's what it's really called), they entered my information into the system, and my student showed me in to see the doctor, about 5 minutes after I walked into the clinic with no appointment. The doctor apologized for his limited English, (which wasn't that bad, he definitely knew the word "infected") put the microscope-thingy in both of my ears, typed something in the computer, and then sent me back to the front desk.
The woman working the front desk had me sit down to a machine that was like an infrared heat lamp for my ear, I did that for 3 minutes, then they handed me my prescription and charged me my copay, w12,000 (about $10 US). So far, so good. My student then walked me down to the pharmacy on the first floor, where they gave us each a candy and filled my prescription in another five minutes. By 11:30 I was at my desk, drinking a bottle of water and taking my first round of antibiotics.
Socialized medicine: not too bad. Now I wonder if Rush Limbaugh was lying to me all those years that he said it was a back door to communism.
Feels good, man.
Busan, Korea, July 11, 2011.
EDIT: I bought this bike, fell in love with it, and then left it chained outside the train station overnight. Someone stole it. I was heartbroken, but I'm over it now. I actually saw a high school boy riding this bike in my neighborhood almost a year later! I started running, tried to chase him down... but he was faster.
Oh, man. What a night. Forgive me for not posting anything recently. I decided to give myself a little time to settle in here. I've been working on post ideas as well as some ideas that might turn into short essays.
One of the thoughts I have been working on over the last month is the idea that "the best way to experience a big city is as a pedestrian with easy access to a subway". I became more and more frustrated with my life as a car owner over the last couple of years--who knows how many hours I have spent in traffic in Dallas and Austin?--and eventually decided that I don't want to own a car again, ever. I think there is still a lot of truth to the pedestrian mindset, but after tonight I can say without a doubt that the best way to experience a big city is on the back of a fixed-gear bicycle.
I found this bicycle through an ad on KoreaBridge (an English-language website). I met the guy who is selling it last week (he's leaving Korea after 2 years to go mountain climbing in Nepal, move back to Minnesota, and get married? Or something like that.) and the bike was a really good deal, so I had to buy it. But my only access to cash has been through the ATM, w300,000 at a time (about $275). Anyway, after three transactions this weekend, I had enough cash, so he met me at the subway stop by my apartment tonight at 8:45pm and gave me the bike.
After a quick trip to the apartment to change clothes, I was ready for a ride. I decided to take the subway to Gwangalli beach (about a 15 minute ride). I had texted a friend of mine, Sung, who has a fixie, that I was going to the beach. I saw him there and we talked for a few minutes. He gave me directions for how to ride to Haeundae beach, and he went home to sleep (he works at 7AM).
I rode out to Haeundae Beach by myself, a nice little ride, and at a decent pace. I went to this bar I know, Drunken Shrimp, and the owner made me her specialty, called.... that's right, drunken shrimp. With a late dinner under my belt, I decided to go to for a relaxing ride on the boardwalk. I saw a couple of guys with their fixed gear bikes, and they said something as I rode past them. After a few minutes I went down to the subway station.
And got there about 3 minutes after the last subway left. Burn. Not knowing what else to do, I bought a bottle of Makkali (Korean rice wine) and went back to the beach. I spent about a half hour listening to a group of guys with guitars and drums playing what I think was traditional Korean music. It definitely got a great response from the crowd, especially when an old man gave them each a can of Hite beer when they finished a song everyone seemed to know.
I decided to have a look around, and I saw the two guys on fixies from before, looking like they were getting ready to go. "Where are you going?" "Uhh..." The universal response of a Korean who doesn't speak English very well. We figured out that they were going back to Gwangalli Beach, so I said, "I ride with you."
These dudes are fast. On the boardwalk, on the bike trails, and on the road, we rode as fast as we could from there to the other beach. We were whooping and hollering, it was so much fun! Then we stopped to catch our breath. I drank a bottle of water. They each drank an OP beer. Their names are Moon and Hyun. Moon is a graphic designer, and lives in Muncheon (on the way to my apartment). Hyun is a barber and lives in Danggam-Dong, which is actually the same neighborhood where my school is! Really great guys. We talked for a few minutes, took these pictures, and then rode the rest of the way back. Moon found out I was from Texas so he started shouting "Yee-Haw" when he was riding really fast. He pointed at his bicycle and said, "It is a horse!"
Hyun rode me all the way back to my apartment. There's no way I would have found my way home tonight without him. I was prepared to pay for a motel room. Something better than that happened, though. It was a great time. I have never had this much fun on a bicycle before. I plan to do it again really soon, hopefully Friday, if the weather is nice. I'm not even sure how many kilometers I rode tonight... 20? 30? Dunno. I got on the bike around 10pm and got back to the house a little after 2am. Feels good, man.
EDIT: I bought this bike, fell in love with it, and then left it chained outside the train station overnight. Someone stole it. I was heartbroken, but I'm over it now. I actually saw a high school boy riding this bike in my neighborhood almost a year later! I started running, tried to chase him down... but he was faster.
Oh, man. What a night. Forgive me for not posting anything recently. I decided to give myself a little time to settle in here. I've been working on post ideas as well as some ideas that might turn into short essays.
One of the thoughts I have been working on over the last month is the idea that "the best way to experience a big city is as a pedestrian with easy access to a subway". I became more and more frustrated with my life as a car owner over the last couple of years--who knows how many hours I have spent in traffic in Dallas and Austin?--and eventually decided that I don't want to own a car again, ever. I think there is still a lot of truth to the pedestrian mindset, but after tonight I can say without a doubt that the best way to experience a big city is on the back of a fixed-gear bicycle.
I found this bicycle through an ad on KoreaBridge (an English-language website). I met the guy who is selling it last week (he's leaving Korea after 2 years to go mountain climbing in Nepal, move back to Minnesota, and get married? Or something like that.) and the bike was a really good deal, so I had to buy it. But my only access to cash has been through the ATM, w300,000 at a time (about $275). Anyway, after three transactions this weekend, I had enough cash, so he met me at the subway stop by my apartment tonight at 8:45pm and gave me the bike.
After a quick trip to the apartment to change clothes, I was ready for a ride. I decided to take the subway to Gwangalli beach (about a 15 minute ride). I had texted a friend of mine, Sung, who has a fixie, that I was going to the beach. I saw him there and we talked for a few minutes. He gave me directions for how to ride to Haeundae beach, and he went home to sleep (he works at 7AM).
I rode out to Haeundae Beach by myself, a nice little ride, and at a decent pace. I went to this bar I know, Drunken Shrimp, and the owner made me her specialty, called.... that's right, drunken shrimp. With a late dinner under my belt, I decided to go to for a relaxing ride on the boardwalk. I saw a couple of guys with their fixed gear bikes, and they said something as I rode past them. After a few minutes I went down to the subway station.
And got there about 3 minutes after the last subway left. Burn. Not knowing what else to do, I bought a bottle of Makkali (Korean rice wine) and went back to the beach. I spent about a half hour listening to a group of guys with guitars and drums playing what I think was traditional Korean music. It definitely got a great response from the crowd, especially when an old man gave them each a can of Hite beer when they finished a song everyone seemed to know.
I decided to have a look around, and I saw the two guys on fixies from before, looking like they were getting ready to go. "Where are you going?" "Uhh..." The universal response of a Korean who doesn't speak English very well. We figured out that they were going back to Gwangalli Beach, so I said, "I ride with you."
These dudes are fast. On the boardwalk, on the bike trails, and on the road, we rode as fast as we could from there to the other beach. We were whooping and hollering, it was so much fun! Then we stopped to catch our breath. I drank a bottle of water. They each drank an OP beer. Their names are Moon and Hyun. Moon is a graphic designer, and lives in Muncheon (on the way to my apartment). Hyun is a barber and lives in Danggam-Dong, which is actually the same neighborhood where my school is! Really great guys. We talked for a few minutes, took these pictures, and then rode the rest of the way back. Moon found out I was from Texas so he started shouting "Yee-Haw" when he was riding really fast. He pointed at his bicycle and said, "It is a horse!"
Hyun rode me all the way back to my apartment. There's no way I would have found my way home tonight without him. I was prepared to pay for a motel room. Something better than that happened, though. It was a great time. I have never had this much fun on a bicycle before. I plan to do it again really soon, hopefully Friday, if the weather is nice. I'm not even sure how many kilometers I rode tonight... 20? 30? Dunno. I got on the bike around 10pm and got back to the house a little after 2am. Feels good, man.
The Code of the Waygook, Vol. 1
Busan, Korea, June 21, 2011.
"Waygook" is a word that you have not likely heard unless you spend a good deal of time around Koreans or Westerners (mostly Americans and Canadians, but some Britis, Kiwis and Aussies, too) who have lived in Korea. There is a word in Korean for "foreigner"--"waygookin". I'm pretty sure it literally means "anyone who is not Korean". But of course they have specific names for Chinese and Japanese, so "waygookin" is really the word they use for us. In the same way that Koreans make up their own variations on English words, the expat community has adopted "Waygook" as our own identity. So you can say, using the word as a noun, "We partied with some waygooks in Kyungsung last night until the sun came up" or you can even use it as a verb: "Let's waygook that subway car".
I think I learned a lot about living in Korea from reading waygooks' blogs. Certain things seem to always come up. Koreans like spicy food. But for someone who grew up on Tex-Mex and loves Indian food, it's not really that spicy. Koreans seem really concerned about whether a waygook can handle their food. I ate some spicy chicken last night with Won Young. She was like, "I hope it's not too spicy for you!" I had to explain to her: it's not that big a deal. If I couldn't handle spicy foods, I would have told you. But their spicy chicken is not as spicy as what you get at Wing Stop or (god forbid, I hate this place) Hooters.
There seems to be a code that the Waygook lives by. Whenever one waygook moves out of an apartment, he or she usually leaves some necessities there for the waygook moving in, which is helpful when you just moved to a different continent and don't speak the language. Here in Busan we have an English-langauge website, Pusanweb (I'll explain it in a different post, but in Korean, "b" and "p" are the same letter, so the city's name is spelled either way). There's a nationwide one called Koreabridge. There's even a web forum for foreign teachers called waygook.org. On each of these sites, it is really common to find classifieds. "I bought this iPod touch for $329 about 6 months ago and I barely used it. I'll sell it to you for $250." or "Moving this weekend! I need to sell my TV, bed, books, guitar, Microwave and 2 clothes racks."
It seems to me that the Waygook is always looking out for the next guy or gal. And I appreciate that. I am, as most of my friends and family know, addicted to coffee. It's been a little of a challenge this week. There's Krispy Kreme and Starbucks, but I don't usually feel like dropping 3,300 won (about $3) everytime I need a fix. So I have been dangerously undercaffienated for much of my first 10 days on the peninsula. But have no fear, there's a fellow waygook ready to take care of me! I saw an ad on Pusanweb yesterday morning for a TEFAL coffee machine, 20,000 won (about $18 or so). I texted the number, and finally talked to the machine's current owner last night right as I was sitting down to spicy chicken dinner with Won Young. I told him I would try to take the subway over to Gwangan and pick it up, but I didn't make it over last night.
I called the guy back today when I got off work and rode the subway over there. He met me at the top of the steps with a coffee maker in a nice bag and a smile on his face. He introduced himself as Jan, said he was from Northern Canada (almost to the territories), was an art teacher at one of the universities and had been here for about 5 years. I said living on the beach is probably more comfortable than Northern Canada. We shot the shit for a minute, then I went back down the stairs with my new coffee machine. Good to go.
"Waygook" is a word that you have not likely heard unless you spend a good deal of time around Koreans or Westerners (mostly Americans and Canadians, but some Britis, Kiwis and Aussies, too) who have lived in Korea. There is a word in Korean for "foreigner"--"waygookin". I'm pretty sure it literally means "anyone who is not Korean". But of course they have specific names for Chinese and Japanese, so "waygookin" is really the word they use for us. In the same way that Koreans make up their own variations on English words, the expat community has adopted "Waygook" as our own identity. So you can say, using the word as a noun, "We partied with some waygooks in Kyungsung last night until the sun came up" or you can even use it as a verb: "Let's waygook that subway car".
I think I learned a lot about living in Korea from reading waygooks' blogs. Certain things seem to always come up. Koreans like spicy food. But for someone who grew up on Tex-Mex and loves Indian food, it's not really that spicy. Koreans seem really concerned about whether a waygook can handle their food. I ate some spicy chicken last night with Won Young. She was like, "I hope it's not too spicy for you!" I had to explain to her: it's not that big a deal. If I couldn't handle spicy foods, I would have told you. But their spicy chicken is not as spicy as what you get at Wing Stop or (god forbid, I hate this place) Hooters.
There seems to be a code that the Waygook lives by. Whenever one waygook moves out of an apartment, he or she usually leaves some necessities there for the waygook moving in, which is helpful when you just moved to a different continent and don't speak the language. Here in Busan we have an English-langauge website, Pusanweb (I'll explain it in a different post, but in Korean, "b" and "p" are the same letter, so the city's name is spelled either way). There's a nationwide one called Koreabridge. There's even a web forum for foreign teachers called waygook.org. On each of these sites, it is really common to find classifieds. "I bought this iPod touch for $329 about 6 months ago and I barely used it. I'll sell it to you for $250." or "Moving this weekend! I need to sell my TV, bed, books, guitar, Microwave and 2 clothes racks."
It seems to me that the Waygook is always looking out for the next guy or gal. And I appreciate that. I am, as most of my friends and family know, addicted to coffee. It's been a little of a challenge this week. There's Krispy Kreme and Starbucks, but I don't usually feel like dropping 3,300 won (about $3) everytime I need a fix. So I have been dangerously undercaffienated for much of my first 10 days on the peninsula. But have no fear, there's a fellow waygook ready to take care of me! I saw an ad on Pusanweb yesterday morning for a TEFAL coffee machine, 20,000 won (about $18 or so). I texted the number, and finally talked to the machine's current owner last night right as I was sitting down to spicy chicken dinner with Won Young. I told him I would try to take the subway over to Gwangan and pick it up, but I didn't make it over last night.
I called the guy back today when I got off work and rode the subway over there. He met me at the top of the steps with a coffee maker in a nice bag and a smile on his face. He introduced himself as Jan, said he was from Northern Canada (almost to the territories), was an art teacher at one of the universities and had been here for about 5 years. I said living on the beach is probably more comfortable than Northern Canada. We shot the shit for a minute, then I went back down the stairs with my new coffee machine. Good to go.
A post from last summer
A post from last summer
Sunday, May 30, 2010
(I was in Budapest, Hungary when I wrote this post- GF)
During the past week there have been three or four times when I have realized that this Rush song is playing in my head. I pulled it up a couple of times on the iPod, and this afternoon I reread the lyrics. Neal Peart is a masterful poet, and this song (“Heresy”) is one of his best. Reading it just now brought tears to my eyes.
I was reading a book about the Statue Park and the Communist history of Hungary. I know I can never truly sympathize—and neither can Neal Peart, because he is a Canadian and I am a citizen of the U.S.
However, in walking around this city I am starting to love, and talking to the people I know as friends, I can seek to understand.
The years of 1989 and 1990 must have been an unforgettable time to live in Europe, and a time when the future seemed infinite and indescribable. As I am always joking, “we are living in the future”—this is the Europe that exists 20 years later. I love that the statue park exists as a way for the city of Budapest to say, “This is a part of our past, and a part of our history. We must discuss it openly, and we must never forget where we have been.”
It is a part of my history, too. I can remember crouching under desks in elementary school, the bomb shelter under the Science Place at Fair Park in Dallas, and watching the Berlin wall come down on the news. The question that Peart asks in the song is a great question: “All those precious wasted years—Who will pay?”
It is the right question because the emotional response to the crimes of war, repression, and terror is always the same. “Someone must be punished,” we say, as if the punishment could possibly equal the crime. I remember the U.S. in the months after September 11, 2001. The sentiment was constantly expressed—most eloquently by our own fearless leader, W. “We have to find the evildoers and make them pay.”
The reality, the truth I found on the streets of Baghdad in 2004, is that we all pay. Even those of us who were not responsible for the crimes against humanity that took place behind the Iron Curtain, on the morning of September 11, or in the “liberation” of Iraq have to deal with the aftermath. We have to pick up the broken pieces of our lives and work toward a better future.
I can see the scars of the war and the Iron Curtain on this city. The bridges were rebuilt, but the lives that could have been can never be brought back. I see the scars when I look in the mirror. I can never change the man I have been. Wherever I go, whatever I do with my life, I am still the guy who pointed a pistol at a kid in Sadr City.
Who will pay? Me. You. All of us.
“Heresy”Lyrics By Neal Peart(this song was released on the 1991 album “Roll the Bones”)
All around that dull gray world
From Moscow to Berlin
People storm the barricades
Walls go tumbling in
The counter-revolution
People smiling through their tears
Who can give them back their lives
And all those wasted years?
All those precious wasted years —
Who will pay?
All around that dull gray world
Of ideology
People storm the marketplace
And buy up fantasy
The counter-revolution
At the counter of a store
People buy the things they want
And borrow for a little more
All those wasted years
All those precious wasted years
Who will pay?
Do we have to be forgiving at last?
What else can we do?
Do we have to say goodbye to the past?
Yes I guess we do
All around this great big world
All the crap we had to take
Bombs and basement fallout shelters
All our lives at stake
The bloody revolution
All the warheads in its wake
All the fear and suffering
All a big mistake
All those wasted years
All those precious wasted years
Who will pay?
Sunday, May 30, 2010
(I was in Budapest, Hungary when I wrote this post- GF)
During the past week there have been three or four times when I have realized that this Rush song is playing in my head. I pulled it up a couple of times on the iPod, and this afternoon I reread the lyrics. Neal Peart is a masterful poet, and this song (“Heresy”) is one of his best. Reading it just now brought tears to my eyes.
I was reading a book about the Statue Park and the Communist history of Hungary. I know I can never truly sympathize—and neither can Neal Peart, because he is a Canadian and I am a citizen of the U.S.
However, in walking around this city I am starting to love, and talking to the people I know as friends, I can seek to understand.
The years of 1989 and 1990 must have been an unforgettable time to live in Europe, and a time when the future seemed infinite and indescribable. As I am always joking, “we are living in the future”—this is the Europe that exists 20 years later. I love that the statue park exists as a way for the city of Budapest to say, “This is a part of our past, and a part of our history. We must discuss it openly, and we must never forget where we have been.”
It is a part of my history, too. I can remember crouching under desks in elementary school, the bomb shelter under the Science Place at Fair Park in Dallas, and watching the Berlin wall come down on the news. The question that Peart asks in the song is a great question: “All those precious wasted years—Who will pay?”
It is the right question because the emotional response to the crimes of war, repression, and terror is always the same. “Someone must be punished,” we say, as if the punishment could possibly equal the crime. I remember the U.S. in the months after September 11, 2001. The sentiment was constantly expressed—most eloquently by our own fearless leader, W. “We have to find the evildoers and make them pay.”
The reality, the truth I found on the streets of Baghdad in 2004, is that we all pay. Even those of us who were not responsible for the crimes against humanity that took place behind the Iron Curtain, on the morning of September 11, or in the “liberation” of Iraq have to deal with the aftermath. We have to pick up the broken pieces of our lives and work toward a better future.
I can see the scars of the war and the Iron Curtain on this city. The bridges were rebuilt, but the lives that could have been can never be brought back. I see the scars when I look in the mirror. I can never change the man I have been. Wherever I go, whatever I do with my life, I am still the guy who pointed a pistol at a kid in Sadr City.
Who will pay? Me. You. All of us.
“Heresy”Lyrics By Neal Peart(this song was released on the 1991 album “Roll the Bones”)
All around that dull gray world
From Moscow to Berlin
People storm the barricades
Walls go tumbling in
The counter-revolution
People smiling through their tears
Who can give them back their lives
And all those wasted years?
All those precious wasted years —
Who will pay?
All around that dull gray world
Of ideology
People storm the marketplace
And buy up fantasy
The counter-revolution
At the counter of a store
People buy the things they want
And borrow for a little more
All those wasted years
All those precious wasted years
Who will pay?
Do we have to be forgiving at last?
What else can we do?
Do we have to say goodbye to the past?
Yes I guess we do
All around this great big world
All the crap we had to take
Bombs and basement fallout shelters
All our lives at stake
The bloody revolution
All the warheads in its wake
All the fear and suffering
All a big mistake
All those wasted years
All those precious wasted years
Who will pay?
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