Part II 3/20-21/04

 Saturday
This last weekend is actually what got me off my rocker to jot down some notes. Spring is starting to burst out of the tips of the gray branches. The weather is warming up, although the nights are still cold. And also the fashion is changing. In the mornings I can hear birds chirping. They’re mostly Mag-pies I think but I have seen a few dove-like things flying around. With Spring in mind, I thought I’d invite Ho-sup to climb Gu-bong Mountain, which is right behind our neighborhood. We met up with him Saturday afternoon, and he offered to drive us out to Gey-ryeong-san, a mountain about an hour outside the city, which we’d visited before with a friend Sabine. When we were nearly there we stopped at a little Korean restaurant for some food. The building was amazing! It held the seductive and introverted trance of Asia so well that I if I go back the harmony of all the elements just won’t be the same and I will feel lied to, or at least that I lied to you.  Between the gravel parking lot and the rustic front door are small ponds with huge water fountains outlined with Christmas lights. One of the old water soaked wooden water wheels was running smoothly. The other water wheel, just as key to the setting, was not. Old grain mills flavored the entrance, along with other outdated, but still functional farm equipment. I’m reminded of the longevity of simple mechanics. Inside was dark but not musty. We chose a secluded table by a window. Each table had its own room like quarters and there was relaxing classical Korean guitar music in the background. Out side the window are a line of shark toothed, evergreen covered peaks. Unfortunately we didn’t have the cameras to take pictures with this time, but basically it was the Korean equivalent of finding an old barn-style Texas restaurant with all the authentic cowboy ambiance and a little Hank Williams on the jukebox. It was an atmosphere that epitomizes the reputation of the culture.
         We got to the mountain and started to climb up the path. We passed the same Buddhist temple that I took pictures of last time and made it to the same waterfall. This time the climb was much safer without the slippery ice, although damage from the snowstorm was pretty dramatic. Our English topic was greetings and Ho-sup learned “what’s up” and “how’s it going”. When I call him on the phone and ask for him he usually just says his name instead of “this is him” or something like that. “Ho-sup” sounds almost exactly like a Korean saying, “what’s up”. So I wasn’t sure until then that he didn’t already know the “what’s up” greeting.  
         On the way down Ho-sup finds faces and pictures in the landscape and points them out to us. It takes us a while to see and he helps. “Nose is right side. Head is left side. Eye is dark area”. “Oh yeah I see it” we say. “OK” he says. I enjoy his knack for finding things in nature. At the bottom of the mountain we walk away from the stream to a small drainage ditch and see that the top is covered by what appears to be green algae. Ho-sup puts his hand in the water and pulls out two fingers supporting a web of tiny tadpole eggs. A couple spectators admire his wit and then he gets an empty water bottle from a lady and puts some eggs in it. He gives it to me. They are hatching right now on top of our laundry machine. We snack again at a small pah-jahn restaurant and the manager shows off her refined English, she’s proud.
         That night we rented the movie “The Italian” job. I only mention it because Marky Mark stared in it and the film was surprisingly good.
 
Sunday
         Well rested and with little to do except meet my friend Sofia at 7:30pm, we decided to walk in the downtown direction and see how far we could go until time forced us to take a bus. We’d never made this walk before and probably won’t again. Once was enough. A slight turn along a side street lead us to the red-light district, a 4 block road lined with brothels and restaurants, but a notable scarcity of bars. I poked my head into one the whorehouses before we realized what these strange storefronts with opaque windows actually were. I saw about 10 girls all dolled up and in bathrobes eating dinner, no doubt getting ready for evening’s customers. No surprises. It looked like a clean and, relatively, respectable business. I thought that where there was prostitution there would surely be some sort of live music but around every corner were only female clothing shops. My only guess is that these clothing shops make their cash on guilt presents bought by red-light patrons on the way home to their wives and families.
         We finally met Sofia and were sitting in a coffee shop talking in broken Spanish when a cultural realization hit that made things make a little more sense. I’ll explain. Ho-sup is my only male Korean friend. Everybody else that we befriend is a girl and there is always an x-factor that feels kind of weird that I can’t explain. It’s like I’m a guest to their friendship and Aden lives there. With Sofia, for the first few times we hung out she didn’t know that I had a girlfriend, and things were normal. April, a friend of both Aden and I, introduced us so I assumed she knew, although it didn’t come up until I cancelled plans to stay home with sick Aden. After the knowledge that I had a partner there was that x-factor uneasiness again and she would often ask about Aden. Then while we were drinking coffee she seized a silent moment to express her gratitude to Aden for letting me hang out with her. I regret not seizing the opportunity to set the record straight. As it was, I understood what she had said and Aden didn’t (all in Spanish), and Sofia was talking specifically to Aden. When she thanked Aden, my mind went off putting everything together. The moment had passed by the time I realized what the x-factor was. What it comes down to is that it’s taboo here to hang out with a boyfriend of another girl. It must be a girls’ code or something similar to when girls in the USA lie to each other about the question “do I look fat?”. Small in relevance, but good to know.
 
Happy birthday to the surprising number of Aries out there.