Getting Philosophical

Two years back I damn near missed my flight back to Mongolia.  That morning I was pondering whether I should make a quick run down to Fushimi to see my favorite shrine again or wander up and along the Philosopher's Path when I checked my email to be sure I knew when to be ready to go.

I didn't feel like I'd missed out too badly, especially since I did catch my flight, but Monday morning I decided to finally take that walk, since it's kind of in the vicinity of Heian Jingu.  Now, here's the thing about Kyoto.  Almost anywhere you walk is a good place to walk.  You'll find hidden surprises, temples and shrines where you didn't expect them, or little creeks to walk down.  The Philosopher's Path, though, beats them all.

I'm sure it's better in spring when all the cherry blossoms are doing their thing, but the hints of fall that were just beginning to show were perfect for me.  It wasn't too crowded - there were people, but either they weren't the usual brand of baka I seem to get stuck with or else there weren't enough to ruin my morning.

Now I've become kind of addicted to watching Colbert lately, and there's a segment he does called "Big Questions with Even Bigger Stars."  Since the trail in question is called the Philosopher's Path, I thought it would be apropos to do some deep thinking.  The problem was that I was feeling pretty shallow.  I mean, after a long-ass 9 weeks of school, who wants to be philosophical?  What I really wanted was a cozy nook to read (or watch anime) in, where I could feel the breeze while a hot megane dude brings me cherry cokes (and rubs my feet, because I tortured the hell out if then yesterday).

However - a student pointed out to me recently that I say this a lot.  Apparently it's my word, in much the same way actually belongs to Shaggy - however, as I walked along the path, beside a canal trickling with clear water, I chanced to look out to my left and saw the city stretched out below, and suddenly I felt above it all, not just literally but also metaphorically.  I felt the philosophical juices begin to flow.

What is my purpose in life?  Back in the days when a certain unnamed student's arrival in my classroom was heralded by the words, "MIZ M_____!" floating down the hall, I thought I'd finally figured that out.  My purpose was teaching.  Maybe it still is, but lately I've been wondering if maybe that's not all there is.

Why must we suffer?  Because in order for us to experience joy, we must also know bitterness.  If I weren't drudging day after day for students who (for the most part) don't appreciate art, or people who don't really appreciate their staff, would I truly feel the full extent of euphoria at leaving it all behind for a week?  And wouldn't it be a tragedy if I didn't?

Why can't Wotakoi come out any quicker?  How does one go about finding a rich patron?  Is there at least an ice cube's chance in hell that American democracy will survive two more years? Will my life get any better once school moves to the new building, or will there be a whole host of new problems - for example, being able to see the tsunami coming through my classroom window in the event the Big One happens while I'm still here?

Such were my thoughts.  Turns out philosophy really isn't my bag.

Nightwalker

I wanted to do all the things, visiting Korea this holiday.  I really did.  I looked up performances I hadn't been to, sights I hadn't seen...but it turns out that what I really want from a visit to Korea is time with my homies, shopping, and walks down memory lane.  Yesterday, for example, I had one definite goal:   to cook Azhaar dinner that night.  (When I mentioned this to my Dark Lord and Master, he asked why.  Considering the number of times I made him dinner when we worked for GDA, he should have already known the answer, but I explained it for him anyways).  Before that, though, I had some free time, so I went back to Dongdaemun to find that fabric I needed.  When I finally located it, I grabbed lunch, and by the time I was finished, I decided that I had neither time to hike Namhansanseong or to go to Heyri Art Valley, so instead I caught a taxi to Itaewon to find ingredients.

So I made burritos, and they turned out well, but I wanted to do a little more with my night, so I told Azhaar that I was off to Siloam Sauna, straightened up my crap, and off I went.  Halfway to the bus stop, though, I started thinking that maybe I should go for a wander.  One of the things that I love about Korea is that you can feel perfectly safe walking around in the wee small hours of the morning, pretty much anywhere.   So when the bus stopped just on the other side of the tunnel, next to Namdaemun Market, I hopped off.

Namdaemun was one of the first places I went in Korea, although at this point I can't explain why.  Besides the shopping in the market itself, there are tons of arcades around the area, selling everything from craft supplies to antiques, and all sorts of cool-looking ties.  During the day it's great, but at night, Seoul really shines (see what I did there?)

Actually a fair number of shops were closed by the time I got there (8:30-ish), but it still had that feeling.  I've read articles about words we don't have in English, such as schadenfreude (taking joy in the misfortune of others), but one word I haven't heard of in any language would deal with a visceral feeling - that doesn't actually align with any of your senses - invoked when standing in a place of your memories. Places like Namdaemun or the fifth floor of the fabric market, have the same feeling to me - a guaranteed hope that you can find anything.The giddy excitement of the hunt.   I'd describe it as the way scents can take you back, except it's not about scent.

It was nice to see Namdaemun's actual gate again, as well.  Namdaemun and Dongdaemun were originally gates on the old Seoul city walls...the south and the east, respectively.  During my last stint in Korea, an old dude burnt Namdaemun down in protest, and I hadn't seen it since it was restored.  

I headed down into the arcade to keep on my way to Seoul Station - there's so much traffic in that area that you can't just walk across the street.  Being from a small, midwestern town, there were many things I hadn't really experienced til I came to Seoul - like Thai food, or homeless people in the subway.  When I used to meet friends to go to Siloam, it seems like they were always lying in the corners of Seoul station.  Last night, though, there was an entire camp in the arcade next to Namdaemun.  And I'm saying this not because I felt unsafe - uncomfortable, yes, but if you don't feel uncomfortable when you are face to face with the imbalance that results in others having very little when you have just about everything you could need, there's something wrong with you - it was one of those little myriad changes I picked up on - overall the topography of the city is the same, it's just the faces of the places that have changed.  Or in this case, I guess the face remains, but the geography has changed slightly.

I passed through Seoul Station, walking by where the Bennigan's we met up in used to be, and came to the top of my stairs.  Almost every time I go to Siloam, ever since the beginning, I've slid down the railing on these stairs.  It is the perfect width, the perfect angle - you can get a pretty good slide going but still have control of your speed.  I love it.  At the bottom, I walked forward a block, crossed over to Siloam, and spent the next several hours casting off my UB grime.  I even slept in the oxygen room.

These may not have been amazing new experiences, but to me it was the perfect way to end the day.

When Animals Attack

Cats are better than dogs, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a jackass (unless they are one of my students, in which case, they are merely misinformed).  Reason #1,000,001 is that cats feel no need to prove they are dominant.  They are confident in the fact that they are superior.  How can you tell?  Because you can look a stray cat in the eye without it going postal on you.

I've lived in Mongolia for two years now without facing down the #1 public safety threat - wild dogs.  I've always wondered what I would do if I was in a situation with a wild animal.  My father taught us from a very young age that you should never approach the babies, because their moms won't be far away and they will NOT be happy with you.  And growing up with Shaggy there were inevitably stories of how you should try to make yourself taller with this animal, or not to climb a tree with that animal, because they'll just follow you.  But none of that was applicable this morning.

When I went out today for my 6 a.m. hike up Zaisan (fourth day in a row!), I made the mistake of making eye contact with one of the dogs that lives in the street beside the school.  He started barking.  I stopped looking at him and kept walking, not slowly, but not quickly.  I'm no animal expert, but I know better than to run from a predator. However, this didn't do the trick.  He kept barking, and came over to follow me.  I could tell by his noise level that he was getting closer and closer, and finally I felt the tug of teeth on the back of my pants.

Thats's right.  I got nipped in the butt.

I stopped and gave him a death glare.  It was not, exactly, super effective.  It made him move away a little, but his incessant barking called one of his buddies over, who also started barking.  I don't consider myself a particularly logical person, but in a situation like this my first instinct is to think it out, and my options briefly flashed through my mind...the gate of the school was around the corner and up the street, but I am NOT a runner.  I could climb over the fence - I've done it once and this time I wasn't carrying snacks for a school party...

My glance briefly slid over a Mongolian man walking toward me, and I can only imagine that I must have looked panicked.  He, however, was not.  He must have been the Mongolian equivalent of a Boy Scout, because he was prepared with a rock in hand, which he lobbed it at my two attackers.  They were, no doubt, discussing in their stupid doggy barks the best way to team up against this slow, fat human and which part of me would taste best, because they failed to notice that the rock didn't come anywhere near them.  They didn't look to see that the guy only had one rock, and that I had none.  They just ran for it.

Which is reason #1,000,002 that dogs are inferior to cats: they're cowards (and stupid, but that's reason #1).  Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for it in this instance, and after giving the man the most heartfelt bayrlalaa I've ever said, I picked up my own rock.  It turns out that's how you deal with a wild dog (along with not making eye contact in the first place unless they are chained up on the other side of a fence). 

Pounding Pavements

This is the seventh night Socrates and I have gone walking since last Monday.

Our whole walking thing was a lot more convenient when he was living upstairs from me. The only effort required was one of us phoning the other and suggesting it. (This was not the only convenient thing about being neighbors - it was easier to convince him to bring his movies down to watch on the projector when it was a matter of taking the stairs rather than a taxi. Oh well). Now one of us has to go across town to meet the other. One of us being me. Don't go hating on him, though...I volunteered for it, and not just because I am so selfless that I will go all the way across town just to be sure he gets his exercise. Partly it's because I want the extra exercise of riding my bike over to his place, partly because I eat dinner over there every other night or so, anyways, and partly because afterwards I can stop at Coldstone's, if I'm feeling it. Okay, maybe the trip to Coldstone's negates some of the positive effects of walking for one and a half or two hours...but then, since I rode my bike over and back, I reckon I'm still ahead of the game.

And yes, I said one and a half or two hours. We never walked that long in RAK. Usually we made it forty minutes back then. Of course, there really wasn't anywhere to go in Ras al Khaimah. No sidewalks. Sand in your sneakers. Assholes driving up and ogling you. None of that's a problem here (okay, actually I get stared at quite a bit but I've just accepted that as a fact of my expat life, and I don't mind it when Asians do it), and there are endless tree-lined streets to beat. We've wandered the streets north of his place. We've wandered them all the way to my place. We've even wandered ones that we didn't know the destination of and, thus, ended up getting turned around to the point that neither of us were quite sure of where we were. It was fun...well, up to the point where he had a hypoglycemic episode on the ring road without a convenience store in sight. That was a little scary...as he was swearing and talking to himself about where the next convenience store was, I was having visions of carrying him piggyback up to the walking street (and so yesterday I stuck a pack of candies in my purse just to be safe, tonight he carried a can of coke).

Is it a pain in the ass? A bit. I haven't had the time/energy to work on Kashmir in a week and a half. But I'm enjoying the time with him, and I'm REALLY enjoying the fact that my clothes fit better - whether it's from the walking, or just plain old Asian magic, I can't wait til the next time I weigh in at the sauna!