Oldest Firework in the US of A

I'm wearing shorts and a tank top, mom's not in much more and we're wondering how she, I and her little dog are going to sleep in her little car this evening. Road trip got out of hand and we're wandering down the streets of West Yellowstone in Montana, where the nights get fairly cool. So we grab a couple of tourist jackets and I a pair of gaudy yellow sleeper pants and find ourselves in the last lodging in town at the Westward Ho Motel.

July the Fourth morning greets us at an eye-squinting 5:30am and I drag mom and dog from bed to enter the park early so as to avoid other tourists. A light mist decends along the river and apparitions of wildlife drift through the early hours. I'm breathing in deep the pine-air and happy to spend time with a loved one in such a beautiful place. Old faithful geiser shows us a spectacular spray show and we sit back thinking about what it means to be American in the the world's first National Park. In our nostalgia we realize that the majority of others there with us are individuals of other nationalities, I think of San Francisco in all of it's diversity, America has changed considerably since the first immigrants took the land and were later met my throngs of the new in gold rushes of the western coast. Bumper to bumper behind an ornery buffalo for a time and crazed photographers chasing a small black bear through the trees and we're standing on an overhang above a waterfall before making way for the Tetons of Wyoming. We're short for time but soaking in each moment. I suddenly have a premonition and have the distinct feeling that I'm meant to return soon.

The gut instinct took a few days to kick-start and after another roadtrip re-uniting with gal pals in northern Idaho I set out with a small bundle of clothes intending to move to West Yellowstone on the border of the park, and if nothing bit there I'd drive on. I arrived at noon and had a job by one, two days in a hostel and a lovely chat with a German scientist on the bottom bunk of my log bunk-bed and I manage to grab one of the last rentals in town. My rose-pink carpeted "cabin" they call it, the first I've had alone just me, no roomates from around the globe, and a much as I enjoy the place to myself, I can imagine it being very lonely in winter. Having just finished the Clan of the Cave Bear I'm having nightmarish thoughts of the 7-foot snow entrapping me, turning my lil cabin into a lil snow-cave and my learning to stay warm from the hides of animals.. not likely but when alone often one starts to lose one's mind..

I now shuffle customers about from the front desk of the Brandin' Iron Inn, a mounted elk's head looming over my transactions and an antler chandelier for the rustic-effect. I'm enjoying the job and taking all sorts of unusual requests; climbing through windows to free trapped guests, translating into Spanish for housekeeping who graciously do not laugh at my marred attempts, sitting through thunderstorms that take out the power and phones and a slew of other anomylies. A French woman came in one night with a Pepsi from one of our vending machines and stated that she did not want it, to which I can only recommend that she press the button of the selection she would like, after a brief repeat she shakes her head and plainly says "I did not want a Pepsi, I wanted Beer." It took much of my decorum to hold from laughing and explained that she'd need to visit the gas station for such a purchase. Was told later in the week that the French do in fact have beer vending machines but certainly not for a few quarters cost.

So otherwise, the trails and river rapids call and I'm going solo as making friends in a seasonal position seems to extinguish the extra energy and days off. Contract ends in October and I'll be onto the next adventure soon.

Bandit Queens

Drive ahead will pass in the blink of an eye. My head is filled with nature and peaks that put to shame any others I've yet seen. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

A month back I returned to the US, a bit burned out and readjusting after half the year in Seoul. My flight was denied access into the US or Canada as they had allowed a high risk passenger on board, we were turned around and flown to Tokyo, 26 hours later I finally arrived in San Francisco; my boyfriend and a great friend picked my tired self up curbside and I spent the week playing catch up and showing the Bay area to the boy toy. (A week later that same passenger's face was in the newspaper having been arrested with a large terrorist cell who had been planning to begin bombings of crowded shopping centers.)

Series of events led to my needing a ride home to Boise, Idaho and dear dad came flying down the road to get me. En route home Lake Tahoe seemed alluring and he and I added some hours to the trip skirting the lake and stopping in the capital of Nevada, Carson City, to unload our $8 of quarters into slot machines and walked out with $50. Drive time 15+ hours, plus time to stop and buy another travel magnet for my fridge.

A week spent home and getting un-packed and re-packed for the new job in Seattle and an 8 hour drive later I landed in Seattle. The position turned sour, as in so bad that I couldn't stay, and I packed up and drove back to Boise.. that trip took closer to 11 hours as the heat caused my '88 van to vapor lock on a few occassions needing cool down time.

Back in Boise 3 days and mom and I headed for the 6 hour round trip drive to visit my sister in Eastern Idaho. Fourth of July weekend adventuring called and 2 more hours into Montana to enjoy my first visit to Yellowstone National Park, then south a few more hours to the Tetons of Wyoming and finally a lengthy return just in time to catch the night's fireworks at the raceway down the street from mom's duplex.

I suppose I'm getting prepared to find my next line of work a truck driver as these long road trips each week look to become a continuing trend.

Annyanghekaesayo Hanguk....

Final hours of my Korea adventure, still not certain as to the likelihood of a chapter two but as I now have an amazing someone in my life that will be here I am fighting to return for him (and for who I am with him), for the marvelous adventures in this small peninsular nation, for the foods and continuation of my slimmer-trimmer asian food fed body.

Last night went the final meetings with those friends who shared laughs and travel stories, and Julio the Mexican chef was so nice as to join me on my longest footed wandering across Seoul of two hours. (He is quite a fun walking partner, Tuesday's trek was a 10 mile round trip jaunt through three bottles of varietal rice wines along the river Han.. and amazingly no hangover the following day.) Finally walked across one of the bridges here, Hanamdaegyo, and stopped to peer over the side and stir up my fear of heights.

The morning was eventful, Seoul is covered in wedding halls and my boss's brother was the victim to be and thus I garnered an invite and smiled and bowed to everyone who I thought that I should smile and bow to. The groom danced from foot to foot anxiously confessing his jitters and wishing they could start already. (Wedding halls here are scheduled back to back and many guests for the following wedding will sit in on the prior ceremony so as to guarantee seats when their loved ones arrive.) I explained to him the English addage of "butterflies in the stomach" and although he nodded and smiled I'm not all together certain he caught the meaning. I was able to sneak up to see the family photos of the mamas with the bride (looking dazzling in their pastel hambok traditional dresses and little embroidered shoes with the upturned toes), the first being the western style wedding the bride's white dress designed to cover her 5 month round belly from preganancy, luckily she and her mate are well matched and love was also a major factor in the ceremony.

I was sat next to a few relatives that wished to practice English, and found them friendly and did my best to pretend that I didn't stand out like a sore thumb all six feet of me, foreign and with a bright orange thai silk scarf about my shoulders. The loudspeakers blared one form of music while a small instrument ensemble played classical, then came the many bubbles and the bride and groom, who are not given away by the bride's father as in western style but they rather walk together, which was good as she kept stepping on the front of her dress and he was able to hold up the front just enough to aide in the graceful procession of the two under two long plastic swords held up as a bridge for the two to walk under. A preacher delivered a Korean script as a paparazzi of photographers and cameramen circled the couple. Some singing, a few bows, and then the giant party poppers as they made their way back down the aisle. Then I was asked into a photo of the friends and thought to stand on the groom's side and avoided the backrow so as not to be taller than all of the men there. Herded next into lunch area and ate quickly and I added a few of the yummy wedding snacks to my purse at my boss's urging.

First wedding over, mostly for business collegues and neighbors, they ran off to change into the bold basic color hamboks of Korean weddings and I was able to join them for the smaller family ceremony. Red prevelent in representing the woman and blue for males, much of the coloring was a joining of these two, and in fact on the Korean flag the yin-yang symbol in blue and red is symbolic of the sexes. They fed each other many little snacks then the mother of the groom tosses chestnuts to wish them good luck in bearing children. Then my boyfriend called and I excused myself to the alleyway to chat for a few moments and remind each other how much we are missing each other and looking forward to meeting in San Francisco tomorrow. The ceremony finished, the business of the wedding needed to be taken care of and payments were made to the wedding hall, countless little envelopes of money were counted, instead of gifts here they give money (in odd denominations for luck) the names and amounts are recorded and then when asked to attend one of their weddings you should expect to donate no less than the recorded amount that they donated, and with so many weddings here I imagine that gets expensive.

Made my way back to my apartment for a rest, and looked up to watch a guy dangling on a rope line cleaning windows. I waved hello and he waved back. He had cleaned the other side of the building earlier in the morning and I had been awaken to the sound of a squeegie against the glass and a spiderman outside of my bedroom window, quite a surprise after little sleep from the night before and having an abode of the ninth floor.

Onto my evening, my Korean family treated me to a lovely duck dinner and traditional dishes about an hour outside of the city in a little valley, I drank dondongju rice wine (which I love and know I shall not find outside of Korea) and said what may be final farewells to some of the family. The mother and her two kids will come to meet me in Seattle in two weeks along with three other kids for a two month summer program I arranged for an English Immersion tour. And afterwards I am uncertain where the wind will whisk me off to, hopefully it'll back into the arms of Chris/Dongkyu (my Korean-American partner in crime) through the fall months and then both of us someplace warmer before I freeze myself through another Siberian-type winter.

So the final packing begins, and the realization that I am not only going on a trip this time but moving from what I now feel to be home sets in. I wonder if there will be a sensory overload as I return to signs that I fully comprehend, conversations that I understand, and a sea not of Asians but Americans. I am so looking forward to the next of life's adventures... whatever or wherever that may be... meanwhile I'll continue folding origami cranes on my flight home and might make 300 by arrival (going for the 1,000 in which the laborer should have any wish granted, and I hope to know what wish I should make by the time I have completed the many tiny birds.)

Sawasdee ka! Thailand Travel troublemaking..

Just arrived back in Seoul after a few weeks in Thailand. Oh the heat, and the smooth moist feeling of the skin in that humidity. I planned what was necessary, learned some Thai, converted currency at the airport and headed out.

I arrived in Bangkok late on a Thursday night and arranged myself into a room near the National Stadium. My morning jaunt had me leaping onto a 4 baht (10 cent) bus and jetting off through the cty towards Grand Palace, the putrid air of the surrounding traffic tried to overwhelm me but the glittering sights of passing strange new roofs and other noteworthy structures kept me alert and eager to see more. A long wall greeted me and I found my way along it through throngs of foreign tourists into the main grounds, paid my small admission and readied my cheap snap camera. I was out of film in an hour.

Dodged tuk tuks and street vendors afterwards to a small ferry crossing to Wat Arun, the towering mozaic-laden riparian delight. Having bought more film, I was again out within an hour.

I stopped to purchase fresh fruits whenever I could convince myself I had tummy space big enough to eat more. I met 6 new international friends later that night and our group became inseparable in our dining, weekend market wandering, chatting, Khao San road drinking adventures.

Then another flight,south, to the island of Phuket and a short ride with my carryon while holding onto the back of a scooter driver. Karon beach, my own empty hotel as tourism is hurt badly there. I join the topless european women on the beach and burn my breasts in short time. My sunblock turns out, although SPF70, is not waterproof. Nightlife consists of guesing games of which young Thai prostitute will be taken down the street to a dirty old man's hotel room. So I meet more travellers, and go for a Thai massage, fill myself on fresh seafood and bargain for day trips.

I danced in waters with colorful fish, canoed through sea caves, tried to glimpse the real life behind the markets of a floating village and came upon school children playing sidewalk games, someone put a monkey on me, I wandered into a cave and made bat sounds until a few fluttered around me, I rode an elephant and had mixed emotions about it before receiving a back massage from a young one, I sat in quiet spots and contemplated, I applied aloe on my skin (many times), squished wet sand between my toes. Then I moved to Patong beach.

Banana Disco, walked till my feet hurt and walked some more, stood on a balcony soaking wet as the island rain poured down like a great wall, I finally wrote some postcards, stayed in "mosquito motel" and then a nice one my remaining days, and hours before leaving I somehow ended up a float-member dancing during the island's gay pride parade hopping off partway through to wave good-bye and grab a tuk tuk to the airport.

The last sights I see before leaving: construction of wave damaged buildings, women sitting on their porch in mumu dresses, scooter drivers smiling at me, a local market, a small beach with mounds of their buried dead and tiny wooden markers, the evening light sprinkled over fields, and that sun finally setting over the runway of the airport. I went on to run through terminals in Bangkok to get my connecting flight, and didn't sleep a wink as loudspeaker translation went on in three languages and arrived back in Seoul in time to see the first of the flowers blooming.

One felt smart, they all felt smart.

One felt smart, they all felt smart. (ask a Korean kid to say this 5 times fast till the letters scramble and you've got a laughing youngster on your hands)

Sun peers out from behind the pollution wall from time to time, and still not frequently enough for my own tastes. Although a nice trip to Yong Pyong Olympic Ski Resort here in Northern Korea for the Chiense New Year did provide a lovely break from the city. I ate up the mountains, literally in many cases as my amateur ski tactics often came to a glorious face plant in the snow drifts. So yeah, three days of learning to hit myself in the face with ski poles and having developed a working relationship with cute ski patrol as they rescued me, I'm back in the city again. Now, don't get me wrong, I have now come to love the sport and long to go again, by day two the fear of heights subsided and the intermediate course seemed much less daunting, but the screams still very real.. only kidding.

Now the question has come down to "do I stay or do I go?". I'm learning Korean, I finally have a taste for the foods and can tap out a mean tune on chopsticks, but perhaps a brief hiatus between gigs in the US to pack up dear old dad and get both of us out into the world could be a good thang?

An update: Tokyo, whew, that's a few blogs in and of itself... while there I had a temple reading done, now before this triffle of paper is disregarded I'll tell you that 6 of the many listed items have already come true.. three others have pointed towards my making a move south and soon as it's in my best interest to do so... by my dumb luck in following this thing before, I managed to avoid a few nights in subway tunnels sleeping among the Tokyo homeless so I'll heed the message now as well I suppose..

So I'm in a holding pattern and working to tap my veined network of world-savvy people for information on work in other countries for two.. now the waiting game..

Itaewon, Icheon and other mischief...

Turns out that Seoul has a pretty hopping night life that goes until 4am most nights. Definately deciding that this is a city of the night, much more beautiful at night too..cars, ultra glow character signs, etc.. make for a Christmas tree-esque decopage of lights. No matter what time of the night there are people walking the streets, plenty of things to cause trouble in including thrice visited Itaewon, a street packed with some stylish clubs and some not so nice pubs, and the majority of Authentic foreign dining establishments. Actually making friends, although almost all are Europeans, and either work as English teachers here too or are on business. Met a few nights ago with one tall friendly German fellow who took me to a German Christmas village here in the city where I was introduced the warm and tasty Gluwein, best way to describe it is as a lemony warm sangria wine, highly reccommended.

Christmas.. what a funny concept that will be this season, naturally the United States is the place to be for the holidays. Here I'm laughing to myself as they decorate their fake trees with cotton balls stretched over little branches as they believe it imitates snow, not a huge deal here to celebrate but the consumerism and marketing still take hold. Recalling palm trees in Central America last year strung with twinkly lights whilst baby jesus lay in a tropical manger. Here they also like to remix Christmas jingles with techno and blast it over the loud speakers in many public spots.

Had Pizza Hut last night, wow is it hard to find anything but Korean food here that hasn't been "Korean-ized" and I'm actually missing a bit of grease and salt. I enjoy their cuisines but quite often my eyelids peel back as my system is shocked by yet another red/black pepper, ginger, or garlic seasoned dish with mystery meat. So funny thing to add, I am open minded when it comes to dining but was told to watch out for.. you'll never believe it... chicken butt hole dishes.. have no further comments as they're all rather crude on the topic but wow!

Today was a unique opportunity to experience the cultural heritage of this tiny land mass. In Seoul everything is so modernized that it's only in small glimpses that you see their roots. Icheon in the countryside is home to their world famous ceramics, and in wandering about museums and markets I found exactly the piece I want to buy, it's a lovely teapot with carved out niches and classical white crane paintings, but if you look closely there's another interior pot so it's usable..... only drawback is that it would cost my year's wages. Here they manage a pale green hue of paint specific to Korea and accent with detailed and often repetitive patterns in an even paler hue.

The day became hands on when my guides took me to a do-it-yourself pottery shop, big greenhouse plastic tent more like with an ornery goat wandering about chasing a poor little dog. Here I had the chance to create my own artistic vase on a wheel after handing over a scribbly picture to a cute young sculptor helper to explain what I had in mind for design. My younger sis has been into pottery for a while now and I can see the draw, recalling romantic scenes from the movie "Ghost". My piece will also sport that lovely greenish paint job when delivered next month after kiln burning and glazing work. Kilns are an interesting thing too as they generally still do their work in old style with a long pea pod shaped earthen kiln built on an upward slope so as when a fire is lit at the bottom the flames travel upward cooking the clays.

Had an authentic Joseon Dynasty dining experience today too, am slowly getting used to my feet going numb after sitting cross legged on thin seat pillows eating at 12inch high tables. I would hate to be a dishwasher at any restaurant here as generally there are many side dishes but our lunch plates today numbered near 80. Pretty little wood carved sliding doors and yet another shoe-free room, on and off of shoes hard still as I'm tall and not blocking an entryway is rather difficult when I'm attached to my lace up purple Pumas and rarely wear slip-ons.

Korean hospitality is very demanding and quite exhausting for a Western guest but a highly enjoyable experience as many are eager to learn about us. Certain friends reading this will identify when I say that entering a Korean home is like going to Grandma's house. A short visit generally lasts no less than an hour and they don't understand the term "I have somewhere to be", whether or not you've already eaten prepare to eat more, and sometimes even more after that especially if your guests wish to practice English with you.

On Korean fashion: Naturally one must at all times wear socks, major rule: never enter a home without socks, and street vendors display long tables of colorful and often odd choices for purchase. Here image perception is vital and you'll never be able to tell a knock-off Louis Vuitton bag from the real thing. Women here, outside of nightclubs, are dressed clear to the neck, but a funny thing, their skirts are so short that a small gust of wind would provide a full show, have been told that the difference is primarily that American women tend to be bustier so in having something to flaunt we do. Everywhere you go you'll see the school girl uniforms with plaid skirts. Plaid, everybody here owns plaid.. and leather.. and apparently this season wearing both with faux fur topped snow boots is the rage.. and don't leave home without your fake handbag. My wardrobe is so far behind that I give up most days and go out in jeans with the holey knee and crazy color layers to stay warm with my Payless Shoesource bag from home.

Seoul..Day One...

An nyang ha sa yo....(hello, how are you)

Beautiful Korean stuardesses have pampered me for the past half day's flight, and now Incheon airport is very stream-lined and technologically efficient like the whole of Seoul. Trend setting young people dart past me with a side glance at this tall American wondering what I'm doing here. I would ask myself the same question but packing up and moving to a major southeast asian super-metropolis, boasting largest city population in the world at 12 million residents, doesn't phase me in the least and much surprises my hosts who have met many nervous relocators who've come to rub off their English on their family.

The kids, Seoyeon and Hongjoon, are singing along to a Britney Spears pop song and I pretend not to know the words and rather keep my eyes glued to car windows as we pass miles of skyscraping apartment buildings and an abundance of cranes working to further elevate the skyline. Here you dont see houses, land is too precious and I take happily to my access coded 14th floor apartment view later in the evening. Inquiring as to a downtown I'm told that everywhere is a downtown and I find out my next day just how true that is when I see the convenience of nearby markets that house everything that one may need and I'm reminded of those markets I had once visited in Costa Rica.

Morning is spent over green tea ad traditional korean breakfast, already this early the lanes of traffic are stalling on one of 20ish bridges that connect North and South city over the river Han. Mrs. Hwang is thanking me again for agreeing to come and expresses her eagerness to improve her already amazing English skills. She stays at home like many wives in this male dominated society and I am developing a sense of conformist, high development that this culture strives so hard to achieve. Although I admire the discipline of this nation these notions to a westerner who values freedom of expression and creativity seems as if they are missing out on the full expression of life. Anything different can be dubbed dangerous here, it is vital that things run smoothly and people seem to be happy with it with their friendly personalities and bland black and white cars. This family is different they are accustomed to dealing with "my types" and don't outwordly show any disapproval although they have asked me not to wear my v-neck lower plunge shirts, and I have learned to clumsily remove my shoes in tiny crowded, narrow entryways so as to maintain the sanitation of a room.

Full families here crowd into small apartments, yes it's city living but when one considers that children remain in the family home until marriage I imagine that the space becomes very cramped after a while. Religions vary and many Christian, Catholic,etc...churches dot the vistas and can be pointed out by the glowing neon crosses atop the roofs. Gave my mom an overseas ring from the patio, she doesn't feel any further away now than she did while I was living in San Francisco area, I like big coastal cities, I like people moving like schools of fish, events, ethnic diversions, lights and noise. It's my age, twenty years from now I'll crave the peace I once had in the Rocky Mountains of Idaho and my lovely home of Boise. Now I'm energetic and world-minded and soaking in cultures like a sponge.

We went to a gym today to watch the kids in swimming lessons, which was also very regimented and children are pushed even here to succeed. Mama and I sit on the second floor up behind a large window on a running track to watch. Old gym equipment, by American standards, such as the classic vibrating belt that we recall 50's housewives advertising are used by individuals in conservative track suits. One says with pride here, in no exact phrasing, that they live vicariously through their children. If one's child does well in school it is as if they themselves have earned the A grade, also the shame of failure falls upon the parents and homework, lessons and self betterment dictate the day.

Subway is packed but so very clean, I'm still getting those curious and not always friendly looks as I board. Trying to understand the importance of keeping such a strict lifestyle reveals a country badly battered after the Korean War, further threatened by their other half country, and without any natural resources they rely solely on the people resource. Developing a strong educated and driven popluation force all after one cause, constantly competing to stay on top of everything, they believe this will allow them to survive.

US miliary presence, noticable by air as in a city with few trees one does notice a prime piece of land in the middle of Seoul covered in trees and nicely spaced buildings. Koreans are two minded, they realize how small they are and the threats that exist, and so in feeling vulnerable they are happy to have American troops stationed here. On the other hand military men here are viewed as disrespectful and Koreans would be happy to do without them were they able to do so. My presence is viewed similarly but with more openness and smiles and I learn that many individuals will happily teach me Korean as a means to further their English skills free of charge, they are curious about my culture and understand the global importance of obtaining a solid grasp of my native tongue but also see me as a threat to the post confuscionist way of life that remains in the minds if not the immediate environment of South Korea.

Night is on and I've learned to scribble my number characters 1 through 10 and attempt to manipulate korean greetings. We've had our dinner with Kimchee, a cabbage side dish with a mix of unknowns and a spicy red pepper paste. Made our run to the market and viewed the adorable and cheap stationary, stopped to watch a live squid needlessly bonk his head against a tank lid on a street corner as unbeknownst to him he'll be lunch sometime this week. Tommorow is another day, more rice to eat and guiding myself through a city where I can read one in ten street signs and have much yet to learn.

Monterey and other Mischief...

Nomad party wandering for two weekends:

So yeah, been doing a lot of booty shaking and exploring the nightlife of a few surrounding cities. Last weekend crazy fun Samantha and I enjoyed a light Indian dinner at a pleasant Monterey downtown restaurant where we met the super-friendly owners who treated us to traditional tea and warm conversation. Followed by hours at Club Octane, four clubs in one (Techno and House/Hip hop/live rock/ and an old school 80's room) where we lost track of time, drank purple hooters and danced our socks off.

This weekend, the family suffered a sad loss as the father took the family back east to bury his mama. On the upside, big house left to me and an ornery grandpa Karl who was nice enough to allow me a gathering of friends: about 8 of us splashing in the pool, working salsa and belly dance moves and munching on sushi I had rolled for the group until the wee hours.

Helped Anat move into a new place nearer to Frisco, we no sooner got her clothes unloaded when we were on the 101 headed for the Mission District to jump around to funky eclectic beats at El Rio which featured anything from hindi, salsa, reggae, to techno based grooves... we garnered quite the following of enamoured young men, and invited a particularly enjoyable Peruvian fellow to join us for 3am ceviche at a hole-in-the-wall. Still I swear that dating now would not be in my best interests and I extend the long arm of friendship to hunky eye-candies.

Kids start to school in two days and topless tanning time returns! Felt neat to do their school shopping and get them little backpacks, calculators and such... missing school a bit myself and with as adjusted as I'm becoming to the bay area am considering school here next year.. yet another angle to look into...

Otherwise time in Santa Cruz, watching hippies and skateboarders do their thing while barking at sea lions (a usual activity when on the wharf) and eating zabaglione gelato..mmmm....