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We went to see 'Alice in Wonderland' on Saturday evening, and after escaping from the hole we'd fallen into, my wife turned her five-month old Windows Mobile phone back on and it didn't work properly. I have the same model and we hardly ever turn them off - this is Korea, it's practically a social crime. Not answering within two rings annoys people, so mid-way through a sentence you can often find yourself talking to someone holding a suddenly produced phone to their ear; phone conversations have priority over face-to-face meetings. On a busy day, it's occurred to me that the best way to guarantee an uninterrupted talk with someone I'm with is actually to phone them up and stand next to them holding my phone to my ear.

Imagine the trauma then of a broken phone on Saturday evening, when the next day is a one-in-three week 'off Sunday' where the local wage-slaves are briefly released from their corporate chains and the local Samsung Service Centre is shut.

On Monday morning we travelled a mile to a large Samsung building where the elevator opened several floors up to reveal a large room buzzing with activity. One of the three young women with the kind of perma-smiles usually only seen amongst religious cults took my wife's details, assigned us a number and beckoned us to a seated waiting area, apologising that we might have to wait for fifteen minutes. Samsung had thoughtfully considered the dangers of keeping Koreans waiting in an enclosed space with no mobile phones to occupy them, and had provided a number of PCs with Internet access. And I found something new next to the PCs - phone sanitisers. Everyone knows, of course, that the original settlers on Earth - our ancestors - came from a planet that was suddenly wiped out by a virulent disease contracted from a dirty telephone, so it's good to see that Samsung are doing their bit to ensure this tragedy isn't repeated.



Apparently, you put your phone in, close the door, and five minutes later, it's completely germ free. Well, until you put your hands on it anyway.

A few minutes later - not the fifteen advertised - we were called to the "Love Zone" - sadly not what you think - where beneath a large sign which read "감사합니다! 사랑함니다!" - "Thank you! We love you!", engineers sat implausibly behind their desks. The problem with my wife's Samsung SPH-4800's was that while it would boot up, all her data was missing and it couldn't even make or receive calls. We'd already tried everything we knew to fix the issue from fiddling around with the configuration, resetting, and anti-Microsoft incantations, so it was no surprise when our Love Zone liaison told us that it's love for her was dead and he would have to completely reinstall the software in a factory reset. He suggested it might have been caused by a virus, but the reset would cure it in a lucky escape for Earth. Her data and settings were lost, but it wasn't a complete disaster - she regularly synchronises it to her PC.

A mere five minutes later we were finished and I had to be impressed with that. When I once had a problem with a phone under warranty in the UK I had to send it to a repair company through the post, and it was two weeks before I got it back. In Korea, it was an hour's work. Perhaps Samsung really do love their customers.

If you've been in Korea for any length of time, you've probably heard this from someone you know or work with: there are no gays in Korea.

This is obviously false. There are homosexual or LGBT people everywhere in the world. They might happen to be more widely or deeply closeted here than say San Francisco but that doesn't mean they don't exist. In fact, both Busan and Seoul have their very own gay clubs though they don't advertise and tend to be very word of mouth. Homophobia is rampant in Korea, any hand holding you see in the streets between same sex couples is assuredly purely platonic (and will certainly disrupt your gaydar). 

My favorite (or least favorite) conversation about an LGBT issue happened last year but it still stands out in my memory.
Female English Speaking Korean (FESK): I was dating this guy but I found out he was bi so I broke up with him?
Me (trying to tread very lightly here): Why?
FESK: Well, what if he cheated on me with another guy?
Me: Wouldn't the issue be more the fact that he was cheating on you? I mean if you thought the guy was going to cheat on you or was cheating on you, sure break up with him. But why would who he cheated on you with make a difference?
FESK: It's just weird!
Me: ~shrugs and changes the subject~

Why am I posting about this now? The Korea Herald published an article today, "Cruise ship with 710 gay men aboard to call at Busan port." There was absolutely no opinion in the article about whether or not this was a good thing. It felt even very conspicuously politically correct. I mean, this is a good thing I suppose only why did they bother writing about it in the first place? I shall be watching the internet for the opinion pieces that are sure to follow...

Apparently there is some sort of national testing going on today in school. I have no idea what it actually is, all I know is that it means I'm desk warming for the day. At least I actually have some paperwork to do. I feel guilty but I'm assigning my kids homework this year. No assignment should take longer than 5-10 minutes and it needs to be important, not busy work. Basically, I'm trying to make fun worksheets that review the lesson material. For the end of lesson for grade 6, I have all of the key sentences they were supposed to learn coded. Each letter is a picture (think of the wingdings font) and they use the decoder key to decode the sentences. I tried it out during winter camp and the kids had fun with it. My co-teacher claimed it will be too hard but if I did it with 4th, 5th and 6th graders so I doubt the 6th grade class will have any trouble with it. Make a boring writing exercise into a puzzle and voila--it's not work anymore.

On the personal front: I have yet another cold. I am taking multivitamins and even managed to go to sleep early last night to give my body a better chance to fight it off. I think this is my 3rd or 4th cold in the 3 months since I came back to Korea.

Dear Students,
Please keep your germs to yourself.
Love,
Miss Karpen

Every time a teacher comes over and touches stuff on my desk I cringe because I know that in general, Koreans aren't as fastidious about washing their hands and while their immune systems might be able to handle the Korean cold germs, mine can't. I need to buy Lysol wipes or something for my desk. Something tells me that a bilingual sign saying 'keep your germs to yourself' might garner laughs from the students but would create a general feeling of annoyance from my co-workers.

Other news:
1. I discovered that I can't study Korean and listen to French music at the same time.
2. I have been eating my birthday chocolate Every Single Day instead of saving it for special occasions. This does not bode well for it lasting very long. Whatever, I deserve it. I'll slow down with the eating once the novelty wears off again.
3. My school is actually scheduling my summer vacation NOW...not 3 weeks before it happens. Score one for my school!
4. I'm turning 24 soon (March 21st)...which means I'm already 25 Korean age. When my brother turned 25 I left messages on all 3 of his numbers (back in the days when people still regularly had land lines and cells) about how he was SO OLD being a quarter of a century and all of that. I'm a great sister, aren't I? I don't feel old; I like my 20s. I just feel strange...time keeps speeding up. By the time I hit 30 I might have whiplash from life.

I’ve just read an article that left me shocked and saddened. Apparently a couple living in suburban Seoul have allowed their infant baby to die as a result of malnutrion. Now the baby didn’t die because they couldn’t afford food, no, it seems the infant died from neglect. This couple just couldn’t bother to leave the PC bang where they spent 12 hour sessions in the MMORPG Prius.

Wow. Just wow. I’ve known the addictive quality of MMO’s. I’ve experienced it a little bit myself. I’ve seen the crazed temper tantrum of people like This. Then there was the news of the man who literally died from exhaustion because of his online video game obsession. The recent Frontline Internet Addiction episode couldn’t be more timely.

Even more appaling is that the couple, in their online virtual world, cared for an online baby named Anima. I guess they couldn’t cope with the fact that their own real life daughter was born premature. That poor baby never had a chance. Where was the safety net for this family? If they were unemployed how did they afford an apartment? Where was the extended family? Cleary these two must have been triggering warning signs if they’re disappearing for 12 hours at an internet cafe!

I’m thinking that the PC Bangs, much like the bars back home in the USA, should start implementing a policy to protect their customers from their own self destructive behavior. Is that too much hand holding? Bars back home have become liable for their patrons who drink themselves blind drunk and then get behind the wheel. Maybe South Korean PC Bangs should make the rounds inside and kick out the customers who have been there over six hour or at least give them a piece of fruit and some water.

Of course these folks would probably just go to the PC bang across the street.

What do you think folks? What can be done about internet addiction? Sure, when kids deal with this the parents can step in and stop it, but when it affects adults I don’t quite see what can be done.

Related articles by Zemanta

• Were Game Addicts So Addicted They Starved Baby to Death? (abcnews.go.com)
• South Korean Couple Lets Baby Die While Nurturing Virtual Child (1up.com)
• Report: South Korean couple starved child while raising ‘virtual baby’ (cnn.com)

© Brian Dye - visit us at Kiss My Kimchi. Or Click to Email Us

Related posts:

1. In Korea, Online Gaming is It
2. Frontline Digital Nation: Internet Addiction
3. Board Game Rooms in Korea

( Source )

If you’d told me a week ago that I’d be spending much of my birthday looking for images of Korean men touching themselves, I’d probably have politely told you never to comment on my blog again.

Prompted by this analysis of Korean magazine advertisements that found that Korean men were significantly more likely to be shown doing so than Western men in them however, that’s precisely what I’ve been doing. But for all their supposed ubiquity, it’s proving surprisingly difficult to find examples, throwing off my schedule for the next posts in this series.

To be specific, I’m after advertisements like these, but featuring Korean men rather than women, and would really appreciate any help. Seriously, what search terms would you suggest, in English or Korean?^^

Of course I do have some examples, and will continue looking: my planned post will simply take longer than expected. In the meantime then, let me briefly offer some amusing and/or interesting advertisements that have cropped up recently instead, starting with that for Coca Cola Korea (한국 코카콜라) above featuring Thai-American Nichkhun (닉쿤) of the Korean band 2PM. I think its humor speaks for itself, but in the unlikely event that you feel I’m reading too much into it, please see those featuring other…er…members of the band here, of which Junho (준호) in particular seems to be enjoying holding his miniCoke bottle entirely too much!

Next is this one for Venus lingerie (비너스) featuring Han Ye-seul (한예슬), featured on the front page of Korea’s main portal site Naver (네이버) as I type this. Why it’s interesting is because of the English name “Glam Up” for the bra featured, which, making little sense otherwise, supports the argument that the English word “glamor” has somehow come to mean “voluptuous” or “curvaceous” in Korean:

( Source )

In turn, it demonstrates the ridiculousness of the new Korean phrase cheongsoon-gullaemor (청순글래머; or “innocent glamor”), but which is nevertheless very much in vogue in the Korean media at the moment. But that is no great surprise in view of the enduring popularity of older ones for women’s bodies like “S-line” (S라인) perhaps, and so, lest I begin to sound too serious here, let me move on to this advertisement for Nike Korea (나이키) featuring ice skater Kim Yu-na (김연아):

( Source: korean lovers photoblog )

One of the most endearing athletes I’ve ever seen (well before she won her gold medal), it’s difficult not to simply adore Yuna, but I confess I still had to to laugh at what Matt at Gusts of Popular Feeling wrote about this ad last month:

By the way, does anyone find Kim’s expression in this ad to be, uh, ecstatic?

Perhaps there’s a reason the left hand side was cut off where it was. Just do it, indeed.

Okay, perhaps that was reading too much into it, and I’m sure you can understand my reluctance in not posting it earlier, the image of her at #10 here alone receiving thousands of hits in the last week of February, presumably most of them from fans…

Either way, I hope you at least one of those advertisements made you smile and/or think. And again, if anyone can help find examples of the sorts of advertisements I’m looking for, I would very much appreciate it; even if it’s only because you feel guilty for forgetting my birthday!^^

Filed under: Korean Advertisements, Korean Media, Korean Women's Body Images Tagged: 2PM, 닉쿤, 김연아, Han Ye-seul, 한예슬, 준호, Junho, Kim Yu-na, Kim Yuna, Nichkhun

I spend a lot of time gripping about the absolute absurdities that get published in Korean papers about education. When I was on the phone with my parents last night, they mentioned that they had read an absolutely fascinating article in the magazine section of the New York Times about teaching called "Building a Better Teacher." For all of you teachers out there reading this blog, go read it!

Basically, a consultant for American schools found that across the spectrum of factors that led to higher test scores, good teachers had the largest impact on scores. The most challenging thing: education degrees aren't teaching teachers how to effectively teach. Many of the methods they mentioned were things I had already learned, either through internet research, using my own experience as a student in my favorite classes or blundered into sometime during my first semester teaching. One of the biggest issues is the effective lack of vocabulary for teachers to discuss what works and what doesn't. Classes in education degrees aren't discussing it either leaving a dirth of discussion that needs to be happening. I will admit that having a certain charisma can be useful in the classroom but it is absolutely not necessary. You just have to figure out how to do it...something that isn't clear cut. Even my Teaching English as a Foreign Language certificate focused overly on grammar and teaching theories. Theories are great for intellectual pursuits but they do jack shit for preparing a teacher on how to effectively get their students to really learn.

It was really great to read a well though-out, extensively researched article that examined the data around how to improve schools.

...I'm totally lusting after this guy's book.

I am jet lag's whore. I'm confident that in time, I can flip this relationship on it's head. For now, I float through the day slightly groggy. My first flight left Busan at 7am Wednesday morning; my last arrived in Toronto at 8pm the same day (so to speak). Were it not for the 10 hour layover in Incheon, or my completely failure to fall asleep, this might be an easier transition.

Two Gravol pills are usually enough to get the ball rolling on my barf-free journeys. I learned my lesson from the 6 hour barfathon that was my 2004 New York bus trip. Not yet having appreciated the full potential of my motion sickness, I neglected to bring any antinauseants with me, and began keeling over the bus shit hole not long after the border crossing. This continued for the remainder of the bus trip and, after a brief respite sitting on the filthy Port Authority floors, on the number 7 train to Queens. There's nothing like discovering a hole in your vomit bag across from the family of three that you've been putting on a Hurl Show for, to teach you the value of always having some puke meds on you.

In November 2008, prior to my first plane trip back to Canada, I discovered that rather than getting drunk on Gravol, I could try these patches which I found at a pharmacy in Busan. I have no idea what their American equivalent is, though I imagine that one exists. Essentially they are small patches that you stick behind your ear and keep you in check, barf-wise, for about 72 hours. The first couple of times that I tried them out, I also used a little bit of Gravol, just to play it safe. This time I did not, hence my failure to fall asleep. As it turns out, I do not sleep like a baby on planes, as I have long boasted; I sleep like a baby when I consume large amounts of Gravol. Duh.

Where I failed to fall asleep, my seatmate was quite successful. Of course, the sleeping came after I fed him some Gravol to prevent further barfing. Thankfully, such things don't bother me much. My senses are so dulled on airplanes that I barely noticed him utilizing his barf bag in the first place.

The Gravol was more or less a trade-off for the No Jet Lag pills that he'd been passing me. Apparently if you take one of these No Jet Lag pills every 37 seconds while in flight, you will feel like a golden pony once you touch ground. I read the package with suspicion, which prompted him to assure me that they were legit. I suppose that it looked like I didn't trust taking pills from a stranger, which would probably have been true, had it not been outweighed by my suspicion that whoever was responsible for the pill's packaging was full of shit. In the end, I can't say whether they really helped or not, but I've felt worse. So, maybe.

... and now the jumping lady  has seen a temple.

7 Nov 2009, Wanting to enjoy all the colorful trees in autumn, I head to 쌍계사 Ssanggyesa Buddist Temple in 지리산
국립공원 Jirisan National Park.

© Chris Backe - 2010

This post was originally published on my blog, Chris in South Korea. If you are reading this on another website and there is no linkback or credit given, you are reading an UNAUTHORIZED FEED.

A few months ago in Seoul Ian and I popped into a nearby tea house after a meal of shabu shabu. I thought we were just grabbing a quick cup of tea. Never did I realize that we’d be entering a tranquil zen garden of contemplation. That’s what it felt like entering O’Sulloc tea house in Myeong Dong, so you can just imagine what the O’Sulloc Tea Museum in Jeju must be like.

The museum was founded in 2001. There are three tea gardens in Jeju. The museum stands surrounded by meticulously cultivated rows of tea bushes. Each stand about knee high. The museum itself is a modern structure of glass and stone that blends right into the natural beauty of the area. Outside there is a little park with a swining bridge and a staute of Seo Sung-Hwan who was the first owner of the company. Before him there weren’t any tea gardens in Jeju. He wanted Korea to join the other nations of the world in producing world class quality tea.

Inside the museum you can discover the origins of tea in Korea as well as view the process of growing and harvesting the tea leaves. There are also exhibits of tea cups from around the world alongside tea cups from Korea’s Goryeo period which was before the Joeson Dynasty.

No museum would be complete with out a gift store and O’Sulloc is no exception. They offer up a variety of products far outside the expected blends of tea. You can purchase shampoos, lotions, facial creams, and perfumes all made from extracts of O’Sulloc’s tea leaves. You can also buy the dishware and utensils to brew and serve your own tea at home. The blends of hand for purchase include herb, mint, orange black, candy black tea, tropical dream tea and wedding dream tea as well as many others. We sampled a tea brewed from the youngest leaves harvested from the gardens. I’m not really a fan of green teas, but it was surprisingly not bitter and actually kind of refreshing.

Opening hours are from 9:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. from April to August. The museum closes at 5 p.m. from September to March. Admission is free. Tea classes must be reserved in advance. The museum is located an approximate 50-minute drive from the airport. For more information call (064) 794-5312 or visit www.sulloc.co.kr

© Brian Dye - visit us at Kiss My Kimchi. Or Click to Email Us

Related posts:

1. Jeju Island: Teddy Bear Museum
2. Jeju Island: Trick Art Museum
3. Jeju Island: Genius Loci

Yesterday, there was an article in the Seoul Times called "South Korean Teachers Reach for the SKY" and it was about why South Korean teachers are just so much better than anywhere else.
Beyond tradition, South Korea actively raises the status of teaching as a profession by doing two things. First, it makes entry to teacher training very selective. Teachers are recruited from the top 5 percent of each high school graduate class. Second, teachers are paid generous starting salaries of 141 percent of GDP per capita, which is significantly above the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) average of 95 percent.I'm not sure where they get this statistic or if it's grossly inflated by the few superstar hagwon teachers who freakishly manage to make 5 million won a month (roughly $5,000). Public school teachers make less than the foreign teachers whose base salary is 2 million won a month with small increased increments given for experience, advanced degrees and the like. A lot of tension between the Korean teachers and foreign teachers in public schools is that we apparently make a lot more money than them, especially when the fact that they pay our rent is factored in.

Let's look at this bit:
South Korea is able to pay teachers high starting salaries because it employs relatively fewer teachers than other nations. As a result, the student-teacher ratio in South Korea is 30:1, compared to the OECD average of 17:1.Yes, but there is only so much a teacher can do in a class with 30+ students other than lecture. Every single child education theory (at least that I've read) stresses that smaller classes and time for one on one attention is the key to superior education. Lecture classes in universities with adults who are capable of sitting still is one thing...have you ever tried to get 8 year old children to sit still for an hour, let alone all day?

The article only cites star hagwon professor's salaries and doesn't mention just how low the public school salaries can be. I mean I'm glad that teachers are given great respect in Korea, I think that we play a vital role in society, shaping the minds of the next generation and all that. I just think that there is a lot of room for improvement and articles that seem to blindly praise a system without examining it through a critical lens aren't doing anyone a favor.

Also: if teachers are so selectively chosen than how come most of my fellow native English teachers have co-teachers who can barely speak English?

The part can never be well unless the whole is well - Plato

I suffered from chest pains three weeks ago, which was not particularly anything new, but the weakness in my arm and duration of the pain was - so I decided to go to hospital the next day to ensure the problem wasn’t anything serious. Cue the Korean hospital experience:

T+0 We enter the hospital unannounced
T+1 minute, we fill in my details on a form
T+2 My blood pressure is taken
T+3 I see the doctor
T+5 I'm sent for x-rays
T+6 I'm having the x-rays
T+8 I'm seeing the doctor again
T+10 I'm referred to a heart specialist
T+12 We're back out on the street

At twelve minutes from start to finish, it would all be very impressive, and fairly typical of the Korean health experience, if the hospital hadn't been more focused on my lungs and admitted that, despite its size, it lacked the resources to conduct a more thorough heart investigation. Immediately seeing the heart specialist they'd referred me to felt like too much of an escalation, so I decided to try another hospital. I love the freedom of choice here.

The second hospital matched my expectations much more closely. Within fifteen minutes of walking in through the door, I'd seen a doctor, had an ECG plus breathing tube test, and had only been stopped from quickly moving on to a heart ultrasound by the onset of lunch-breaks, which along with potentially being shut at weekends and on holidays, are the one aspect of Korean private hospitals which can be rather disconcerting.

So the ECG was flagged as abnormal, my breathing envelope was too limited, and the heart ultrasound suggested I was suffering from Mitral Valve Prolapse. It didn’t appear to be an immediate cause for concern, but I was referred to a large and effectively Government-backed university hospital to see a professor, and I thought we might as well get it out of the way while we were out.

Pusan National University Hospital (aka 'PNUH') was much more like a British NHS building - a large maze of corridors with worn floors, fixtures and fittings, fading government-issue paint schemes, endless waiting areas, treatment rooms and mini reception desks around which sorry-looking huddled pockets of humanity could be found. While the private hospitals projected a certain ‘can-do’ attitude alongside their modern décor, a certain sense of hopelessness seemed to permeate the atmosphere of the state-backed institution.

It seemed that before I saw the professor, I would have to repeat all the diagnostic tests again, I believe on the grounds that the university hospital could only really verify its own results. Or you might use the word 'trust'. I understood why, although I wasn't particularly happy about repeating the x-rays; while the quantitative and qualitative difference between the Korean health system and the UK's NHS has never ceased to amaze me, it's not to say that every aspect of the Korean system is left unquestioned, and I've pondered the risks of potential over-diagnosis during my time here.

While I was stood at my second x-ray machine of the day, I noticed the display telling me that my full name was now 'MA LEE KEUL'. We'd had a lot of problems trying to spell it out at the hospital's main reception desk. My long Western name is a constant problem in Korea, my surname was gone and now 'Ma-ri-geul' was my full name, apparently.

Although my actual speed of progress through the system was still much faster than the NHS, it seemed I would have to return a week later for an analysis of the results and some more tests with the professor. So last Friday I returned to PNU Hospital, but this time there was more of a buzz in the air. Kim Yuna - a national heroine and feature of every other advert on TV - was skating for gold in Vancouver, and Korea was transfixed. Every TV and monitor seemed to be carrying an Olympic feed, and the huddles of humanity were now to be found gathered around images of this national event.



Typically my time with medical staff follows a well-worn pattern. I brief my wife beforehand, we both enter, she explains the problem, the doctor asks her follow-up questions, sometimes involving me via translation, and after much is said we leave and my wife gives me a very much shorter summary. Probably, that's what all the information boils down to, but the experience is thus oft-rendered into an somewhat dissatisfying abstract, for which I only have myself in the shape of my lack of Korean fluency to blame.

My meeting with the professor took a different turn. After the initial introduction with my wife, the professor turned to me and asked how it would be if she spoke to me in English. That was fine with me though it's not without risk - in my experience sometimes it's better to have people say things in Korean so the full facts can be understood by my wife, rather than have them attempt to do the same in English and have my wife and I only receive a summary of what we might have done in the native tongue. I needn't have worried though, the professor had worked in America and her English ability was very impressive. This meant, for the first time in Korea, that I was able to have a full conversation about a medical issue without feeling that I was losing out on the level of information I would receive in the UK. In fact, it was better than the UK, because the professor actually took the time to explain the various results to me in detail, which the NHS rarely feels motivated to do.

She suggested that I have a CT scan, but since the initial results weren't indicating a problem, I wondered how far I wanted to go - I believed such scans carried an approximate 1-in-2000 risk of actually causing cancer (later, I read this Wall Street Journal article which suggests the figure for heart scans may be as high as approximately 1-in-600), and I'd already had a CT scan last year for back pain. I expressed my reservations and she smiled - she said she knew foreigners were often wary of such things. "Yes, we don't like radiation very much" I replied somewhat unapologetically. I'd had to weigh up the odds and make a snap judgement. It's fair to say I've probably had more than my fair share of medical problems in the last ten years, which have sometimes been investigated at great personal inconvenience and expense to little avail, although we have ruled out serious pathologies as a result. The NHS was never really interested in pursuing diagnosis beyond a certain point - whereas Korea's enthusiasm for medical tests constantly threatens to turn my life into an episode of 'House M.D.', which incidentally - and perhaps not coincidentally - is quite popular here. I'm not a hypochondriac although I don't believe in not properly investigating things - one of our friends here has metastasised cancer because she accepted her doctor's initial assurance that she had nothing to worry about, proving that the health system in Korea doesn't always work. For me, if serious problems can be ruled out after proper investigation I'm happy to live with what I'm left with if - on balance - it seems to represent a lower risk approach than invasive diagnostic procedures or regular radiation exposure.

On the whole, I'm sure that my attitude is not one the Korean medical profession really agrees with, and I regularly feel that I'm slipping into the role of being a strange or awkward foreigner when I express my unwillingness to follow advice or even turn up at a hospital until I've suffered minor problems for an extended period. I suspect that most Koreans display much more reverence towards their doctors, and perhaps we've lost our sense of innocence and trust in the West. But then, the rapidly growing anti-science, anti-intellectual and anti-fact section of American society demonstrates the downside of letting people with limited intelligence and no expertise or understanding in certain areas influence important decisions, and I worry that by Korean standards, I might seem like one of those people too. My degree is in Computer Science, and the few years I spent working for a medical devices company is neither here nor there. The upshot of this is that I second guess my doctors against what I read in Wikipedia, a fact that will possibly always prevent me from seamlessly integrating into this aspect of Korean society no matter how fluent my language abilities eventually become. The professor had strongly implied that whatever tests I'd had done at the private hospitals, the tests I would undergo at the university hospital would be the ones with the correct results - and as far as I believe anything I believed that. I'm not completely distrusting.

In the absence of a CT scan, the professor instead suggested I do a treadmill test, which due to its unscheduled nature, later saw me vigorously sprinting along on the machine in my jeans rather than the shorts which would have been a better option. I was told to stop if I experienced any pain, though my natural bloody-mindedness, coupled with the possibly belatedly important need to not fall into the stereotype of being a weak foreigner in front of the Koreans, meant that only a near-death experience was going to stop me.

After the treadmill I had an ultrasound. Kim Yuna was due to start her routine within twenty minutes and I was concerned the staff would miss the event, but fortunately we finished in time, and the professor invited us to watch the performance with her colleagues. It felt like the Korean equivalent of one of those moments you tell your children about - where were you when Kennedy was shot, where were you when Kim Yuna took the gold? I'm sure it will pass. The hospital seemed to come to a halt - later I read that volume on the stock exchange in Seoul dipped significantly as traders turned their attention away from their trading screens. The atmosphere was tense - quite possibly all across the country - and I felt that Korea had wound itself up to such a point that even I couldn't bear the idea of her making a mistake. So Kim Yuna's performance became my last heart test of the day.

Three weeks ago I visited three hospitals and had a day seemingly full of seeing doctors and having different tests, but the total bill only came to £35 ($53/60,000 won). The total PNU Hospital cost about £170 ($255/290,000 won), which puts the differences into perspective. But with luck, I should be able to reclaim about 90% of that through my medical insurance.

As for me, my problems are intermittent and difficult to diagnose, and I walked away from the hospital with no evidence of anything clinically significant in my results. But it's altered my perspective slightly on the small private hospitals I've previously trustingly frequented, now that I've seen how things are done in the big institutions.

Is it just me, or do the Oscars feel completely irrelevent this year? OK, so I haven’t seen a large portion of the nominees, and will concede that I’m more or less talking out of my ass, but the reason I haven’t seen films like “The Blind Side,” “Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire” or “Invictus” isn’t because they haven’t yet been released in South Korea. I simply don’t care to. By upping the number of “Best Picture” nominess, the idea was to include a broader range of movies, but it seems to me that the Academy has just put its sought-after spotlight on more of the same drivel. Not that there aren’t any good films vying for the top prizes; “Inglourious Basterds,” “The Hurt Locker,” and “Up” were all on my top 10 list of 2009, and I suppose “Avatar” simply has to be recognized in some way (if for nothing else than its nut-busting box office receipts and dazzling display of 3-D images). But even these better crafted, more compelling contenders fall in line with an awards ceremony that allows no exceptions to its rigid rules.

Last year, I took the time to actually make predictions; this year, I don’t see the point. I wasn’t going to write about the Oscars at all, but I simply couldn’t abstain from my yearly ritual of ripping this disgustingly indulgent gathering where all of Hollywood gets together and pats itself on the back.

I know that it's starting to get repetitive but I can't resist: Kang Shin Who is the worst reporter in the history of journalism. Today's article had absolutely no point. "US Admissions System Saps Korean Students"...it was supposed to perhaps make that point but the article only interviewed one student. One. Uno. Hana. Un. ONE. It wasn't scripted as a 'let's follow the application process autobiography' sort of thing--based on the title, it was supposed to be following an overarching trend.

Why do I ever stray from the BBC and New York Times? Why do I do this to myself?! Mainly because the international papers rarely publish Korean news unless the North Koreans blow something up or Kim Yuna sneezes.

Today is Friday. I will try to write everyday this weekend but let's be honest, my track record isn't stellar. I am endeavoring to save more money so I am not going dancing this weekend (which happily coincides with my ankles doing terribly) and will probably hangout with local folk. There are some new teachers in the area to meet, we'll see how that goes...

My birthday lunch took place at Mint restaurant on Phoenix Island. Let me say that the atmosphere of mint is pitch perfect. The restaurant has an open airy feel with a sky high ceiling and a huge floor to ceiling windows that showcase the deep blue sea byond as well as the craggy seacoast. The interior is serene with yellow woods, browns and whites off set by strategic greenery, seashells and and bottled sand.

With all of that you don’t even need food. I’d have been content to just recline in a chair and watch the waves in the distance or the towering sunrise peak. Yet, food accompanies the experience and if you decide to dine at Mint I suggest the lunch set menu.

Here is Ian’s Orum Set:

Orum(오름) set 29,000원

- 감귤 살사와 문어
(Mandarin Salsa with an Octopus)

- 발사믹향 버섯 탕수
(Balsamic Fried Mushroom with Fruit Sauce)

- 산마구이 샐러드
(Grilled Pacific Saury with Salad)

- A. 안심 스테이크(호주산)
(Tenderloin Steak)(Australian Beef)

B. 마늘먹은 오겹살 스테이크
(Grilled Ogyep Pork Steak with Garlic)

- 연두부 잔치국수
(Hot Noodle Soup with a Soft Bean Curd)

- 디저트
(Dessert)

I had the Badang Set:

Badang(바당) set 35,000원

- 부채가재 남방스께와 단호박 퓨레
(Fried Slip Lobster with Smashed Pumpkin)

- 굴 라자냐
(Oyster Lasagne)

- 해산물과 사시미
(Seafood and Sasimi)

- 그릴야채 샐러드
(Grilled Vegetables and Salad)

- A 메로 스테이크
(Patagonian toothfish Steak)

B 안심 스테이크
(Tenderloin Steak)

- 부채가재 소면
(noodle Soup with Slip Lobster)

- 디저트
(Dessert)

The presentation of each dish is beyond fantastic. However overall my opionion was mixed. If the prices were a bit lower I would’ve been more pleased, but since they weren’t I would probably only go back for wine or coffee and the view. I do want to say that the toothfish steak was absolutely fab as well as the beginning dish and salad.

So, if you’re at the phoenix resort then Mint is not to be missed go for drinks and appetizers and take in that gorgeous view.

© Brian Dye - visit us at Kiss My Kimchi. Or Click to Email Us

Related posts:

1. Jeju Island: Phoenix Island Resort
2. Jeju Island: Genius Loci
3. Jeju Island: O’Sulloc Tea Museum

Where?

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... and because if the kids with the furry masks want to hang out with you ... you hang out with them ....