They found the Arsonist.

You can read about it at The Marmot Hole, so I won't reprint the whole thing here, but basically, they caught the guy who torched "National Treasure Number 1". His reason? He was upset because a contractor paid him a lower price than he asked when they built apartments on his land.

Even worse, last year he ALREADY tried to burn another cultural heritage site, to draw attention to his grievance. It seems he went for National Treasure Number 1 because he was further miffed about having to pay fines for trying to burn down buildings in Changgyeonggung palace.

He apologized, and made the "it could be worse" defense, saying, "I was thinking about attacking a subway station, but chose a national treasure instead," which is like a wife beater saying, "you should be thankful: I only hit you with an open hand! Vern next door uses his fist on Marcie!"

Now here's the thing.

It seems like the old forms of protest aren't enough for the crazies anymore.

I mean, back in the good old days, if you had no other options and nobody was listening to your complaints, most people simply participated in self-destructive behaviour -- get drunk, ramble onerously about "The Man" for a while, say bad things about whichever scapegoat you've chosen to bear the blame for your own disappointments, and get on with life. Maybe throw in some passive aggressive law-breaking -- "Ha! I never wear my seat belt, because, damn the man!" "I call police officers 'pig' behind their backs" "I don't declare all my extra income." "I litter. . . mwahahahahaaaa"

But in our hypersaturated information age, that stuff just isn't enough anymore. People want a stage. In feudal Japan, seppuku, or ritual suicide, was a very honourable way to add gravity to one's protest, or to avoid shame in death, in the case of being captured or defeated in battle. Nowadays, a suicide doesn't even make it into a big city's newspaper pages, unless it's a particularly heartbreaking case, and probably one that also happens to fit the political agenda of the right (or wrong) political commentator/journalist/moralist/loudmouth.

So what do the crazies do? The ones that want a stage? I mean, to regain a few moments of power, in the face of all the powerlessness, what do the disenfranchised have to do these days, for someone to validate their complaint, to vent their rage and impotence?

(warning: this is a clip from fight club. it's kinda graphically bloody)


Destroy something beautiful.

Destroy something priceless, something precious. It's not enough anymore for me to drink myself into oblivion and drown in my self-pity. Now, I have to get revenge at the world. Columbine, Virginia Tech, WTC, burning Korea's National Treasure -- finally, they know they exist, I guess. They got their names in the newspaper.

And how many of these kinds of unnecessary, wanton tragedies could have been prevented, if people had listened to those on the margins, and how many of them were the inevitable acts of deeply disturbed minds who were completely out of touch with reality? I don't know. I don't know the role of mental disease in these cases, I don't know if each of these people could have turned a corner, if the right words, or the right kind of compassion, had come along at the right time. I don't know which of these were simply the outward expression of an intense, black hole of hate inside somebody's soul, and I certainly don't know how those deep black holes got there in the first place, and (this is the hardest part) I don't know which disenfranchised group will be the next to lash out. Nobody does -- that's the scary thing. While everybody's trying to reach out to The Muslims, there could well be an abandoned and ostracized Vietnam Vet polishing his rifle; while we're thinking of Cho Seung-hui (Virginia Tech shooter) and trying to reach out to maladjusted immigrants, some member of the uneducated, working poor, helpless to stanch the bleeding of his credit card debt on his mortgage-crippled sub-sustenance-level income, or some salaryman whose health insurance company won't give him a friggin' break, buys a cannister of gasoline and a lighter, and heads for the nearest administrative building. Who's to say?

And a lot of these things CAN'T be prevented. You'll never eradicate school bullying. Racism will continue to be felt (whether imagined or not) and victim mentalities will continue to fester, as long as there are groups of people who look different, or act different, or talk differently, from other groups. The powerful will always prey on the powerless, and the powerless will grow angry (the only prerogative left to them).

Now I'm not some kind of communist, but I do think that the measure of a society, and, I suppose, of our entire race in the end, is not the level of opulence the rich enjoy, but the degree to which our most powerless are respected as humans (all these bartletts regulars seem to concur). Dostoevsky's (possibly apocryphal) quote states that "The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons."

Who knows. Maybe the revolution is coming. Maybe things will mostly stay the way they are, and maybe there are some people who will never be satisfied, who will always find excuses to feed their anger, instead of trying to live beyond it. Maybe such people will always want to take something with them when they go, and for all they care, having their name and face in the newspaper for a day, having everybody know exactly WHY they in particular are angry, is more important than any other person's life or treasure.

If that's true, there's nothing we can do to stop those kinds of crazies from continuing to appear out of nowhere, and making the world suck for a day, or a week, or a two-term presidency and maybe more (thanks, for that, Osama. You dick.) For my part, I just hope I can treat the people I encounter as humans, and as worthy of dignity, so that even if I can't stop the helpless/angry/crazies, I'll know I'm not helping to make more of them.

Hats off and a moment of silence for Namdaemun Gate, or Sungnyemun

All around Seoul and the rest of Korea, there are markers and placards around historical sites saying "XXX place, Korean National Treasure # __" before the explanation.

Of them all, the top, the big numero uno, was Sungnyemun, also known as Namdaemun Gate. It was one of the gates to the old city, and it was originally built in 1396-8 or so.

Here's a picture.

Sungryemun, Korea's National Treasure #1
See more pictures here. Seriously, follow the link: it's a good photo essay on a really beautiful structure.

This morning, I got into school and everyone was buzzing. During my first class, I got two text messages: Namdaemun is Destroyed!

At first, I had no idea what that might mean.
(sorry. I did an image search of "Namdaemun Gate Destroyed" on google and that picture showed up.)

The truth was much less fanciful, and much more tragic.


They suspect it was arson: someone was seen climbing up inside the building, and a spark spotted shortly after.
I went down to see what it looked like.
Getting closer.


Close enough to see some details of the ruin now.
The crosswalks around the intersection were all shoulder to shoulder. Many were taking pictures, but many were just standing, aghast.





Hundreds of people were just standing there, silently. Like a wake.
Every Korean I've talked to about this is shocked and dismayed -- nobody knows what to say. I don't even know what to compare it to.
For Americans, imagine Mount Rushmore or the Lincoln Memorial being destroyed by an earthquake. For Canadians. . . I have to reach; most of our defining symbols are natural features. Imagine if the Hockey Hall of Fame burnt down, and Bobby Orr died trying to save Wayne Gretzky, and Sidney Crosby's knee got shattered by a piece of flying debris as the building collapsed, maybe. Or if a geothermic event wiped out Niagara Falls as we know it, and left it as the Niagara steep rapids instead. Or if the CN Tower were 600 years old when it burnt own.

People milling about in shock, dumbstruck, with haunted eyes.




They say it'll take two years to rebuild, and hopefully they'll protect it, and other important Korean heritage buildings, against fire more carefully: this is not the first time a Korean heritage site has been threatened by fire.

P.S.: This post got linked by GI Korea on his popular Korea blog ROK Drop. Props for your coverage, and thanks for the kudos!

Traditional Korean Entertainment

It's the Seollal Festival right now -- the Lunar New Year (known in North America as Chinese New Year -- we wanted it to be called Korean New Year worldwide, but we got outvoted.)

And this means a few things:

1. Everybody travels to their ancestral home to honour the ancestors.
2. For anybody who STAYS in Seoul (because everybody's either heading for the countryside or taking advantage of the five day vacation, it's impossible to book tickets to travel), there are tons of festivals, cultural demonstrations and performances to see.
This is called Samulnori. It was popular with farmers coming in from the field. It's noisy and fun. The guy on the far left leads it, it's mostly improvisational, but the clip below gives you a feeling for how it gathers speed as the players go.
It's hugely thrilling to see in person -- wish you could experience it.





A good performance will go eight or ten minutes sometimes, changing tempos and gathering momentum, trading solos and getting noisier and noisier. It's like riding a galloping horse. By the end, all the drummers in our show were dripping with sweat, their heads were bobbing and hair flying everywhere. (Wet hair)

Here's a clip of Kim Duk Soo, a Sameulnori legend, as his performance (somewhat bigger than the usual combo size) reaches its climax. Imagine being there to see this live, close enough to see the whites of their eyes.




Some female dancers came out, and did some lovely fan dances (buchae-chum) that involved spinning and puffing their traditional hanbok out in all directions, just like little girls wearing new dresses.







This is called Pansori, the traditional storytelling form. It has been recognized by UNESCO as an intangible cultural treasure. These Pansori singers are extremely highly trained -- their voices are amazing, more impressive than opera, I think, because Opera is mostly concerned with getting the purest sound, but a good pansori singer MUST have that worn "I've climbed twelve mountain ranges to tell you this story" melancholy in it. It turns into a folk-song singalong midway, and the woman really lets her voice go in all its gritty glory.



A proper Pansori performance can take six hours -- that takes some stamina. A friend told me once that during their training, Pansori performers must practice their vocal exercises until they cough up blood, and there's a movie (Called Sopyanje) about a famous Pansori singer whose father blinded her so that she would experience the grief necessary to become a truly great Pansori singer. (I'm not sure if it's a true story, but it gives you an idea of what is required to be a great singer.)

One thing I love about Korea is that it's a peasant culture -- the best Korean foods are the simple soups and stews that farmers would eat when they came in from the fields. Samulnori (the drumming) was how those same farmers would let out their stress -- work all day in the rice field? Let's bang things together to feel better! Even in this, Pansori (sometimes called Korean Opera), it's not looking for the cleanest highest note (sorry, Sarah Brightman), but the deepest, saddest groan, that defines the best Pansori singers. This makes it very different from Chinese opera, which is so mannered, refined and exact, in a movie I saw about it (Farewell, My Concubine) there's an argument between a singer and an opera historian about whether he's supposed to take five, or six steps before he starts singing during a certain scene of a certain opera.


At the end of the show, the samulnori people came out again, and did this (Pangeut):



They've tied ribbons to sticks attached to their hats. They were flying all over the stage, and it was awesome, they had the whole crowd clapping along, shouting and hollering with joy.



By the way: here's a fantastic arrangement of Led Zeppelin's "Stairway To Heaven" with traditional Korean instruments. I especially enjoyed the solo: skip to six minutes in.



I don't know why Koreans love to do western pop songs and rock classics on their traditional instruments, but the song I've heard played more often than any other by traditional orchestra is "Let It Be". Too bad: the old folk songs have a stately strength that I really enjoy, but maybe they're worried young people can't enjoy the slow smouldering tempos, so they have to supply them with familiar, classic rock tunes. . . which doesn't actually make sense either, because if they're looking for a YOUNG NEW audience, they ought to be covering Black Eyed Peas and Beyonce.

Here's some of the stately stuff I like. The orchestra I saw was seven piece, with five different instruments, and it was more improvisational -- each player got a few bars of solo, and that kind of performance would have been a more common occurrence than a big-ass gala like this one.

Watch the clips; enjoy the culture where I live.

I did it, I did it, I diiiIIIIId it!

The White Stripes - There's No Home For You Here -- their best song so far, in my opinion. Ignore the slideshow -- scroll past. Just hit play and listen.



To commemorate my completion of DRAFT FOUR of my Violinist novella, I am finally posting. That's right, draft four. The draft where I'm proud enough of what I've written that I'll actually show it to people. One (maybe two) draft(s) away from what I'm going to start shopping to publishers.

Melissa tagged me with one of those goofy viral "Tag" thingies that goes around blogs.

I don't mind this one, because it's about writing.

The question was: give three tips for writing, and pass the baton to three of your blogger/readers, to answer the same question on their blogs.

Maybe it was supposed to be "how to write for a blog" but I'm going to take it as "how to work toward writing professionally"

Tip 1 (courtesy of the time I met Timothy Findley)

Write.

Just do it. Don't dream about it. Don't wish you had time to, don't think about the fame and glory that will come after you sell your first bestseller. . . just write. And if you're meant to be a writer, sez Mr. Findley, "You'll know."

Tip 2

While Mel pointed out that it's important not to make writing a chore or an obligation (at least not until you're a professional writer with deadlines and things), I say, don't make it a chore, but if writing's important to you, arrange your life so as to be conducive to more writing.

-Sometimes that means you have to make choices. If your job takes away the time and energy you used to have for writing, well, by keeping that job, you're tacitly voting with your timetable. There's nothing wrong with that, but be aware of it.
-Find a job where you have free time during your most creative time of the day.
-Surround yourself with people who help clear a space in your life to write, and who support you in doing so, communicate to people close to you how this IS a priority for you, and you appreciate their support.
-Disconnect your home internet if it's stealing time from your writing.
-Stop watching movies, sell your television.
-Live more cheaply, so you can take the lower paying job with MORE FREE TIME to write.
-Create a comfortable writing space in your home. Keep it clean, and use it.
-Get a really beautiful journal with quality paper, that's a pleasure to hold, and a comfortable pen that writes well for you, that makes a satisfying scratching sound when you write with it, so that you enjoy, and look forward to opening up the journal and writing in it.
-Get an ultraportable laptop, or a word processor, or a handheld tape recorder, and carry it with you all the time, so that you can write while waiting for your friend to arrive, instead of just staring into space. Fill your life with opportunities to write, see every spare moment as an opportunity to write, and carry with you the equipment necessary to TAKE those opportunities, and actually write!

3. Learn your own process, and be patient with it.

(bonus, 'cause Mel gave four)

4. Live as much as you can, and notice as much as you can, and take notes and internalize as much as you can. Travel, talk to people, don't wear an MP3 player -- listen to the world. Go out and do stuff, instead of staying inside when it's cold or rainy or too hot. Make friends with people who get you to do things you wouldn't normally do. Get wet sometimes, or sick. Remember what it's like. Pay attention to how things smell, feel, taste, all that little stuff. Do things that are out of the ordinary, to see how people around you react -- you might learn something. Get your hands dirty, and keep your eyes open.

Then. . .
(see #1)

I tag. . . I dunno. I don't have many readers. Dan? Deb? uhh. . .Cheryl? You still reading?


Facebook-related Mini-rant: once people FINALLY got smart enough to stop forwarding junk to their friends' e-mail inbox, facebook comes along, and suddenly ALL the garbage that it took me six years to wean my friends from forwarding to me on E-mail, has returned, like the killer in a bad horror movie, to clutter and litter my facebook profile and inbox. AAAAAAAAAAAAUGGGGGHHHHHH!!! It's even easier to forward things on Facebook (damn virals) and sometimes you even forward stuff without meaning to. well. . . it's just like e-mail, folks. If you forward the superstitious "forward to everyone on your list or you'll die at midnight" e-mail, you're a chump (and worse). If you forward it on facebook. . . YOU'RE STILL A CHUMP!

Sigh.

But I'm happy today. Happy as a rainbow banana.

When I finished writing my English Honours Thesis, I walked around TWU's campus for most of the morning showing my fifty page thesis to people around me, bubbling, "Look what I can do!" before I handed it in. That's how I feel now. I wish you could hold my fourth draft in your hands and share a glass of happy with me.

love:
Roboseyo

Yech

butchered dog

Dr. Fish.

Cat Stevens: Father And Son -- one of the top five songs I wish I could play on guitar.



NOT on the list: Hero by Mariah Carey.

I went to this cafe last week, they have this thing called "Doctor Fish" in Korea -- it's the latest "well being" craze (well being can be a noun OR an adjective here, meaning healthy). You put your feet in a tank of water, and hundreds of tiny fish come along and nibble away your callouses.


like this



and dear readers, it really really tickles.






I love this city. (This picture was from the Korea Herald)

Aaaand, street kebabs. Does YOUR hometown have street food like this, served by an authentic Turkish guy who speaks Korean?

Got in the paper again.

There's a new section in the Korea Herald (the paper my school receives) called "Expat Living". I sent a letter in about something I care about, and they published it today.

You can see it at www.koreaherald.com, if you click on the box that says, "ExPat Living", or just trust me that it's there, and read it here.

I'm posting it as it was published in the Herald -- the version I originally submitted had been edited for length, with the first paragraph deleted and some the crucial information from Paragraph 1 adapted into other parts of the letter.

Of course, it's fun seeing my name in print; more gratifying, though, was when one of my students looked at me after reading the article in a conversation class and said, "I never thought of that before, but you changed the way I think." This was the same student I mentioned earlier, in another post. She's great, always ready to talk about stuff head-on, but it was really satisfying to hear her say, "You've convinced me."

I'm still all shiny from that.


here's my article, then:



***

Special


[Letter to the editor] The word foreigner as an agent of exclusion


As Korea aims to become a true global hub, it is time to think how the word waygukin, or "foreigner" is used. The word seems harmless: We are foreigners, aren`t we? But looking closer, just as the word "businessman" hinted that women didn`t really belong in the office, the word waygukin, literally "outside-country person," draws a circle called "Korea," and sets expatriates on the outside, looking in.

It is a small step from saying: "You`re not from here" outright, to implying "and you don`t belong here, either." The words waygukin and foreigner don`t mean to marginalize people, but neither did the word businessman, before it became politically correct to say businessperson, instead. Intentionally or not, it did -- and they do.

These words are so common that we foreigners even use them when talking about ourselves. Rather than just being marginalized by someone else, we are even excluding ourselves from Korean society. If I call myself an outsider, I will also think like one. I may hesitate to invest my full energy and passion in Korea, since even the word used to describe me implies: "You don`t really belong here."

The word waygukin says what we are not, but it`s time for a word that describes what we are, instead. "International," and "expatriate" have positive meanings. This small name change recognizes that we are more than outsiders; we are a growing part of Korea`s new, globalizing society.

Some of us have lived here for a long time, and we can contribute a lot if we, and our efforts, are welcomed and appreciated. It may just be fussing about language, and it`s only one step in the long journey of globalization, but a little change in word-choice still opens doors for women in business, and another little change might encourage expatriates to invest more in Korean society.

It might also help Koreans to see us not as outsiders, but as capable, energetic people ready and willing to participate.

Koreans and internationals alike: Let`s find inclusive words that remind us we`re working together to help Korea grow, and let`s leave old, exclusive words like "foreigner" and "waygukin" in the "hermit kingdom" past, where they belong.

Robert Ouwehand, Seoul



2008.01.31

Walking aroud korea, if you ever bump into a bunch of middle-school kids. . .

Sometimes this happens.



It's cute. . . my favourite is when they get the giggles.

A Three-Fer of Ridiculousity

OK. I like to be positive, as much as I can, but this just begs to be mocked.

Protests played an important part in social change in Korea: in the late 1970s and early 1980s, a number of important protests shook off their military dictator's shackles and opened the way for a legitimate democracy. Before a student protest in 1978 that was surpressed with gunfire (and started the ball rolling toward a true democracy), it was illegal, and dangerous, to protest the government. Protests were also an important part of Koreans' opposition to Japanese colonial rule. This young woman's another national hero in Korea. Since the '80s, as civil liberties increase, it seems that many Koreans choose to celebrate their civil liberties by protesting pretty much anything: every weekend, you can walk around the downtown and find a protest either by city hall, by the parliament buildings, or in front of the US or Japanese Embassy. Sometimes, it seems that people join a protest just for the fun of getting angry about something -- one blogger called these "I like crowds" protests.

Today, I came across the protest of the weekend, and, well, sure, citizens are within their rights to protest things, and it can be an important way of exercising (the hell out of) one's freedom, but if you're putting yourself out there for something like this, I am also well within my civil rights to mock you.

They were marching, and I decided to look at the signs to see what they were marching about. As I moved up from the back of the line toward the front, while only able to read the signs with English on them, and sound out/recognize a very few Korean words, I spotted just about every cause I know:

FTA (free trade agreement with US), GLBT (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transsexual) rights, Iraq War, Skyrocketing Housing Prices in Seoul, Poverty/Social Welfare, Something about Samsung, Korea's largest conglomerate, currently involved in a corruption scandal, and also responsible for the error that led to an oil spill off Korea's West coast, Mistreatment of Migrant Workers, and, of course, a picture of Che Guevera. Because there always has to be a picture of Che.
--all in a single protest!



This baffled me, so I sped up to get to the front of the march-line, and the sign the union members held as they chanted, said, "A dream for a new world. A world without Poverty, FTA, War, Discrimination"

Basically, it was the white elephant table of protests -- if you're on the protestor's mailing list (of which I am certain there is one), meet at noon at City Hall (or wherever it is these things always muster), bring your favourite sign, and make sure you're dressed warmly and ready to shout!

If you like shouting, it's more fun than joining a swimming club! AND, you can lord it over your friends on the beer league soccer team that YOU'RE a social activist, and all THEY do with their weekends is play meaningless games.

Now there's nothing wrong with protesting in itself, but you know, when you flag ALL your e-mails as "High Priority," everybody ignores it, and on the weekend you really DO need a quick reply, you're still shuffled into the "read later" file. If you protest about every darn thing, every weekend, it just becomes a dull hum, chalked up to "one of the drags of being a Korean politician" - it loses its impact. I wonder if these people press for social change in any other way (organizing boycotts, giving money or time to social change organizations, changing their consumption habits, going on letter writing drives, publishing circulars and writing letters to the editor) or if they figure chanting slogans on Saturday acquits them of their other social responsibilities, plus, they get to meet their protest pals and get sloshed later! (Which sometimes seems to be the final stage of EVERY activity involving more than two Koreans -- once I told my students I climb mountains for my health, and one said to me, "But it's not healthy to get drunk the way mountain-climbers do" -- not all hikers, friend. Not all.)

Finally, I have my own opinions about celebrity gossip, but THIS has got to be the best story EVER.

Na Hoon-A is a star of the Trot musical style I discussed in an earlier post. He went AWOL for a little while, and the press cooked up a doozy of a story to explain his absence (you'd hope they could have produced a doctor's note). According to the rumor mill, Mr. Na had knobbed the wrong female popstar: one who had caught the eye of a big-time Yakuza (Japanese answer to the Mafia) boss; in response, as a way of saying, "I don't care if you're famous, nobody f***s with my lady," he had this guy kidnapped and castrated.

Well, Na Hoon-A is back on the radar, ready to tell anybody who listens that he is fine, and his manhood is intact. In fact, he was ready to share it with the press. (He doesn't actually do it, but when he climbs up on the table, everybody gets a little nervous, that "is this actually happening?" feeling when you witness a car accident. And listen to the camera shutters click.)



If you look at a picture of him, this is a dude not to be messed about with -- I wouldn't want to be the reporter who cooked up this story, stuck alone in a room with this guy.



And in case you doubt his manhood, here he is in full swagger, (pop and drop apparently) intact.


PS: how to win a swordfight:

Hey Americans:

Don't get sad about Heath Ledger,

Get MAD about this. Get really mad.
(hat-tip to Occidentalism.org for this clip)