Shameful lack of blogging...

I apologise to anyone who is sweet enough to read (or attempt to read) this blog on any kind of a regular basis - I used to be fairly good with updates but that has since tailed out with my brand new busy school schedule not to mention an unhealthy amount of time spent on the Hell Socialising Device also known as Facebook.

I have somehow inherited my hagwon's smartest kids which is both a blessing and a curse - blessing because you can talk at a perfectly normal, non patronizing speed. Bad, because it requires lot of extra work and the kids are more than capable of outsmarting you, particularly on any day where you have possibly missed out on a couple of hours sleep, or are hungover or pretty much anything that can undermine your already questionable intellect. They are ready to pounce.

I spent my last weekend in Sokcho, a pretty seaside town which is also the gateway to Seoraksan National Park, home of some magnificent mountains. I went with who I shall refer to as The American, a sweet guy that I met a few months ago and am now 'dating'. I use the word dating advisedly even though, as in true Irish tradition, I shy from the word much like an Irish person would shy from a pub with no alcohol. I am desperately trying to stop his Southern inflected lexicon from affecting mine but I am prone to the occasional, horrible slip. I cannot wait for an irate Irish person to give me a well deserved slap.

A friend of mine, Brandon, is getting married tomorrow so I get to attend my first Korean wedding, which I am very excited about. Out of politeness, I asked him what I should know/bring/wear. This was the response I received:

know: you missed your chance
wear: something low cut, skimpy. all my fighter friends will be there, and will be impressed with your foreign/not-so-foreigness
bring: lots of money, not my custom, Korean tradition, when in Rome, don't act like an American.

Am really looking forward to it. Really!

Tales of A Drunken Co-Worker

One of my favourite co-workers, James, never fails to be entertaining. If he isn't slapping someone on the head with his...appendage, or listening to the most depressing Smiths song he can find (and that's pretty tough competition), or drinking makele (Korean alcoholic milky drink, truly revolting) then he's telling Korean pastors that he is a Satanist.

My favourite moment came on Tuesday night. Myself, Shaun, Colum, Janice and James went to see Mat the Alien and Cut Chemist (former J5 and Ozomatli DJ). We all got pretty wrecked on poju, which is a heady combination of Powerade - with most of the bottle emptied out - an entire bottle of soju and one Vitamin 500 energy drink which makes it turn a nuclear green colour. James also hit the vodka before warning us that vodka can send him quite mad.

We dismissed this comment out of hand and then later, really wished we hadn't. James got stocious, climbed up on stage when Cut Chemist came on, and performed a series of karate chop dance moves. I was out in the drinking area when I saw him, followed by Colum and then a rather large Korean bouncer who knew only two English words - 'Get out'.

The night ended with Colum physically throwing James into a taxi and James saying delightful things like 'You are dead to me' whilst all the while staring into my eyes much as Damien from the Omen might.

One of the DJs from the night, Mat the Alien, actually witnessed James' dramatic stage leap and took a photo which I would dearly love to get my mitts on. Oh, I would like to say that my life is not entirely based around drinking and partying, despite the slightly biased slant of my blog topics. Occasionally other things like shopping and sightseeing are done also.

Cambodia

I am suffering post holiday blues, which I find is always the best time to write about a place as your descriptions become even more glowing than they would be normally.

I had a fantastic holiday - I got to meet up with Conor, saw the Temples of Angkor which mere words would serve a vast injustice, particularly mine; in fact, it was one of the most impressive manmade structures I have ever seen, right up there with Machu Picchu. Machu Picchu felt like a pleasure deserved after four days of hiking, vomiting and llama cheese. Angkor Wat wasn't a reward for hard work (sitting in the back of a tuk-tuk talking about The Girl From Tomorrow was hardly taxing) but the sheer majesty of each temple and the air of individuality about them was breathtaking. The sculpture and carvings were almost painfully intricate.

Of course, Cambodia isn't all about Angkor, even though they are strongly and justifiably proud of their past achievements. The fresh memories of genocide became apparently to me almost immediately - my taxi driver from the airport asked me my profession and I said I taught English - 'Ah, the Khmer Rouge killed all English speakers'. The estimations on the number of victims vacillates almost as wildly as the estimates for Tiananmen Square - some say 750,000, others 3 million. Regardless of the numbers, the horror was hard to stomach. Conor and I were discussing about how in our blase youth, tragedy rarely moved us; I actually felt physically sick in the S21 prison. There were rooms full of black and white pictures of some of the 20,000 prisoners that 'passed through'. Most of the dead were emaciated. Some had faces frozen in fear, even in death. Others had half their faces missing. Some were curled up on skeletal metal beds, shackled and twisted into impossible positions with congealing blood pooled beneath them.

It was difficult to accept that this had happened to a people that smiled and were truly, genuinely friendly, every single one that I met.

Coming back to Korea was extremely difficult to do as I felt that I hadn't seen anywhere near enough of Cambodia. But, I battle on. And the rain continues to pish down (although it is not as bad as Ireland where apparently it rained for 46 days straight. Ark building, commence.