Squatter's Rights!

Thar' she blows.

Well scrotes, I'd like to introduce you all to the toilet I'm expected to use in school. Not only am I expected to use these, there's the added perk of sharing them with the fifth and sixth grade students. So a piss stenched hell hole or 'pee pee soaked heck hole' is what was awaiting me when I first had to tackle the delicate matter of voiding my bowels during the work day. 

For a few weeks I restricted myself to using the urinals to have a piss, despite them being tailored towards children, I didn't mind this so much. For the first few weeks my school cafeteria was being renovated so I was able to retreat to the sanctuary of my studio apartment where the shit fell out of me like clockwork each lunchtime. Now passing clockwork through your arse might not sound too pleasant but it was better than using a child's squatter anyway. 

Disaster struck when after the first few weeks passed, we were informed we would now have to bring our lunch into school with us, no more leaving the school grounds, my fellow native co-teacher worried about having to cook/prepare something for lunch, I was instantly hit with the stark realisation of having to face the shitty music. Those of you who know me very well will know what a serial shitter I am, so these were dark dark times. 

Now facing these toilets came with other problems other than the fact that they were squatters. The doors are fucking tiny as is the cubicle space in general. "How the hell do the other teachers willingly go along with this?" I wondered aloud while sitting at my desk. Surely a staff toilet isn't too much to ask. As I mentioned before the place also reeks of the miss the bowl pisses that peppered the toilet floor as aim is clearly not a priority for Korean boys aged between 11-13. In addition, do you think they have individual bog roll for each cubicle?? no no no, of course not, why would you? this is Korea, we do it 'better', we have a nice communal dispenser to meet you at the door so any other attendants in the toilet can see just how many inches of bog roll you expect to need in there. Essentially, you announce to the whole damn place how messy you think this encounter with your bowels may turn out. This is the norm in Korean public toilets and its fucking annoying- I don't want people seeing how much I use....I think its intentionally done so out of sheer embarrassment, if nothing else, you'll be more economical. No one wants to be stood at the communal dispenser for ages taking reams and reams of paper. Its just not a comfortable experience. There is of course the tricky issue of the students you may encounter in the toilet as well....they don't go home till half 2 and many stay after for extra classes so there's always the chance you'll run into one of them on your trip to drop a deuce. Knowing how cruel kids can be, the sight of you disappearing into a cubicle with a handful of bog roll and not reappearing until 5 or so minutes later (depending on how clean the fudge dragon you cook up passes), will spread throughout the school like wildfire. 

Soon enough, my despair with the situation turned into anguish. The first while I just couldn't bring myself to go ahead with the ordeal. I sat in extreme discomfort at my desk for easily half the day, very close to just bolting out the door and heading for the nearby safehaven of my apartment. 

As the discomfort increased so, naturally, did my anger. Initial bemusement gave way firstly to indignation and then downright blind rage. Eventually I vented my frustrations via facebook message to Mairead who was willing to listen but thought I should man up and just go. She made the salient point of the damage I was doing to my bowels. she was right, the inability to squat over that horrid hole and squeeze out a chocolate hot dog was not worth getting bowel cancer over. It was late afternoon, no kids in sight I crept into the toilet with ninja like stealth, determined not to be detected. I opened the first door and practically shat myself in anger. NO FUCKING BIN TO PUT THE BOG ROLL IN???? ARE YOU FCKIG KIDDING ME?!?!?!?! No such luck on the next two doors either, finally the last cubicle yielded results.

So my first attempt at using a squatter to pass a dook and it just was not as straightforward as I hoped. I hovered very unsure over the gaping maw of the jacks with my pants now down around my ankles....'what fuck sort of way do I do this?' I wondered. Fuck. I'd forgotten the bog roll. Enraged I said fuck this and held it in one more day. I just couldn't do it.

The next time, I remembered to collect my bog roll on entry, yanking it with real frustration out of the dispenser. The whole time as I contemplated the whole issue I constantly ran ranting monologues through my head "how the fuck do they expect us to face this every day? surely they know we're gonna inevitably have to shit, its bad enough we practically baby sit these little fuckers all day and can't get a moments peace with them hounding you for hello's and nice to meet you's- we have to share the fucking toilets with them?? and they stink! how do the other teachers put up with this? It is not a comfortable fucking work environement...is a fucking staff toilet too much to ask for....one sitter somewhere in this godforsaken place....fuck this, I'm going back to Ireland, I need to know I can shit in comfort at my workplace....FUCK THIS!!!"

Rant over, I attempted to squat again with much trepidation....this just was not fair. After some informal chats about the process of 'squatting for a dook' I had learned of 3 techniques for staying balanced. One was The Eagle. You squatted and sent both arms out to the sides to each wall to keep balance. There was the Keeping the Door Closed- both arms outstretched and pressed against the door, serving the double purpose of keeping you balanced while ensuring no unwanted visitors come in in case the lock is broken and then the Front and Back one arm stretched to the door, the other to the back wall. Naturally I found myself a Keeping the Door Closed guy but have since been converted to the Front and Back. As i eventually squatted, with my hands desperately applying pressure to the door, praying that no one would walk in, I questioned whether I had the aim correct- in two respects. Firstly, you'd be surprised how unsure you are that you're definitly gonna hit the porcelain when squatting like that. The balance was still not perfect and I worried about a possible sway resulting in a shit stained floor. They'd know the culprit was the Westerner accustomed to ya know, sitting on a seat while I shit....imagine that? Crazy foreigners, eh?? Fuck off. The second matter was, being fully aware that a certain amount of urine inevitably passes with the pressure of the push when evacuating your bowels, I wondered how the fuck, squatting like this would I not piss on my jeans around my ankles......This one still worries me every time I tackle the squatters....I find I have to shit and then when I feel the piss coming kinda scuttle back a bit and make sure I get a hand down there to aim my dick away from the trousers....I really have had to do that every time I've used a squatter....lovely imagery for all I'm sure. 

Anyway, I took a deep breath and went. It wasn't exactly my finest turd, it certainly wasn't a no wiper- much to my irritation I still await my first no wiper here in Korea. The place stank as there's no water to mask any of the smell, just a nice dry turd steaming away beneath ya....I flushed, wiped as quick as I could and got the fuck out of there. Fear overcome, but I still never wanted to go back.

Alas, I did return however quite a few times. Until I finally discovered......can you believe it, in the school's gym:

Halle-fucking-lujah! A fucking proper sit down shitter! I'd never been so happy to see one in my fuckin life. The cubicles a little cramped and the toilet itself a little low (but thats the norm for korean shitters) but thank fuck, it was a shitter. 

A couple of awkward encounters with the PE teacher when entering the gym made me still use the squatter the odd time. An embarrassed nod of the head as his eyes locked with mine, seeming to silently accuse 'I know that its you leaving all the shit stained bog roll in the bin in that cubicle'. But now I don't give a fuck, every day, anytime since there's no students there, I go and have my shit in relative peace (except if PE is on, then its a quick Dump and Run). And there's no fuckin way I'm goin back to a squatter unless in absolute dire need. I'm all for different cultures and the fact that different countries do things differently but I can say unequivocally, without a shred or hint of doubt that on the toilet front- Korea bad, Western World good.

And that goes for all the other dirty squatters out there.

yeah I'm talking bout you.......

Later scrotes!

In the company of Devils.

Soooooooooooooooooo. Here we are at the end of another month and its no surprise that I have fallen shamefully behind on my blog posts. Promises of frequent updates have been broken, aspirations for a weekly post have been put firmly in check by the harsh reality of my laziness and procrastination. I had high hopes by this stage of having everyone firmly filled in on my school, workmates, students, toilets (coming soon to a blogspot near you), the area I live and the curious practice of the Korean drugged out puppy trade. Alas, some of these pieces may never be written and shall most likely be lost to the dump of blogposts that could have been. Tragic really. But, its not all doom and gloom chums because I've mustered up the werewithal to post about possibly the most interesting and important aspect of life here in Daegu. And here they are:

The Daegu Fuckin' Devils!!

As soon as I arrived in Daegu, I was eager to join one of the three football teams here that competed in the Korean Foreigner Football League. I had heard tell that the Devils were the team to join so I wasted no time in getting in touch. They informed me and some other newbies that they were looking for 2 or 3 more players as they had a fairly big squad. Throughout September we attended some training sessions and fortunately I was asked to join the team along with a couple of other mates. Unfortunately we had a casualty along the way with my good friend Gareth defecting to bitter local rivals Daegu FC for the promise of more guaranteed first team football. Ah well.

Our opening game in the league came against what can only be described as whipping boys. We won 10-1, I was played up front, a  position I've never really played before 11 a side, but I managed two scrappy goals amongst the 10 so I was happy with the debut. 

Next up however was serious business. The Ulsan Cup is held every year in Korea. Its the biggest cup for foreigner teams here and the winners are somewhat considered to be the best foreigner team in Korea (or so it seems). On Saturday you play 3 group games. After that there is a Winners and Losers cup on Sunday with the potential of playing 3 more games should you make the final- 25/30 min halves per game. We travelled to Ulsan on Friday night with games early on Saturday. I was sharing a room with seasoned vet of the Devils Mikey Cavada. That friday evening as he left the bar, I asked how late he minded me staying out. He replied 'just not too late'. Early the next morning, suffering from a raging hangover, I was informed (jokingly...half-jokingly??) that last night fell under the bracket of 'too late' and curfew would be imposed that night. For the rest of the morning I desperately tried to shake a whopping headache and voided my bowels in a less than satisfactory or sanitary toilet near the pitches.

Our first game of the tournament against Seoul based Outkasts FC started horribly. One of our key centre mids was knocked unconscious with a combination headbutt/wallop against the turf. The two teams proceeded to argue and jostle above his spazzing body as those of us on the sidelines fumbled for water to bring to his aid. Eventually he was carried off the pitch and to a nearby hospital. Our heads never seemed to get in that game and despite the opposition being very weak we sucuumbed to a 1-0 defeat. Heads were down and some tensions were slightly frayed. I'd made a cameo appearance near the end but felt little had been achieved. 

Not to worry, our next match was against Jejuventus from Jeju island. We came out all guns blazing here however, geared up from our previous defeat. We scored early on and continued from there. I managed to notch up a brace in this game and we ran out 7-0 victors. (Jejuventus would later outplay Outkasts in a 0-0 draw between the two...gives ya an idea of how bad the 1st defeat was).

So now we were on a high and gearing up for the big one. Our last group game and it happened to be a Daegu derby. In recent years Daegu FC had begun to shift the balance of power in Daegu football it seems, and the veterans on the team seemed determined that today was a day to put that to an end. We started brightly and after some great work down the right wing, a zipping cross was played to me at the back post. All of one yard out, I did my very best to sky it over the bar but fortunately it managed to just about sneak in under the roof of the net. Relief and euphoria all at once. 1-0 Devils. We continued to be the better side I thought for the remainder of the half. Second half started even enough and under some pressure our player-manager Timmy booted the ball upfield. There was a wicked spin on it so I thought I'd chase down the centre back and see how he dealt with it. The ball seemed to bounce off his knee as he stumbled and suddenly I was through on goal. I managed to sneak the ball in at the near post and was instantly bombarded by ecstatic teammates. As they all screamed in my ear my favourite nugget of praise I managed to gleam from centre mid G was: "They're gonna be building a statue of you in Daegu baby!!" The rest of the game was quite uneventful and FC managed to pull back a rather fortunate goal that looked like it was meant to be a cross. We held on for our win and topped our group. 

Bodies were aching that night so we took it easy. Many jokes were made of the state I'd been in that morning and how I managed to get 4 goals. Some suggested (me included) that it was a winning formula- not to be tampered with. The spirit was willing but the flesh spongy and bruised so all of us had an early night. The next morning I felt of much sounder body and mind and ready for our quarter final.

Again we seemed to start slow and despite having much the better of the game, our quarter final ended 0-0. So penalties it was.  but with our keeper Bino making saves like this:

and boys like Donny putting away penos like this:

the outcome was never in doubt.

We progressed to the semi's were we were victorious 2-1 thanks to a Chad Newton double (I think...this is the game I have least memory of it seems). There was an epic battle between the lad with the ponytail and our giant Haitian centre half during the game which was entertaining to watch and listen to- the Haitian is one funny smack talker.

So we were through to the final. It was to be against our leagues current reigning champions Busan Utd. I hadn't scored today and was feeling it wasn't my day. The game started at a high tempo and after myself and Mikey Vada pressured their right back into an error, good old Chad Newton from Cinncinatti took the ball on, beat a defender and smashed an absolute beaut into the far corner. 1-0 Devils. After not playing particularly well and feeling the toll of two days of football on my body, I was substituted. Our star centre back 'G.I. Mark' aka 'MEGATRON' (in the above picture) also had to come off with an injury and in his absence, an equaliser was scored. It was our understanding that in this tournament once you were subbed off you couldn't be subbed back on (our league is roll on roll off subs). I had taken off my boots and shinguards and was enjoying a pitchside smoke when Chad pulled up injured and I was frantically urged by my teammates to get my fuckin boots on and get on the pitch. So I managed to get my gear back on and entered the game once more. Full time ended 1-1 so two periods of 10 minute extra time were on the cards. The 1st half of ET was uneventful but we began to pressure. The second half started and it was hectic. Our star man, centre mid Mark McKeever picked up the ball about midway into their half, he beats 2,3, maybe 4 men with ease, he takes a shot! it bounces off their defender! it rolls into my path and all I have to do is neatly slot it in. We go apeshit! I was convinced that was the winning goal and I think everyone on the pitch was. Not so. Busan equalise not long after. BUT! Huzzah! McKeever floats in a free kick from around half way, their defender panics, under no pressure attempts to head it clear, it loops over their keeper and in. Ok, not the greatest way to win it but we'll take it. 

BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! keep in mind all this is happening in a 10 minute period of extra fuckin time. Busan pressure for another equaliser, mostly long balls, attempting to get a head on it. They send in one such ball, which doesn't look very threatening, we have plenty of people to clear it, but whats this?!?! At the edge of the box, rising like a salmon, is small man Tony.....with his hand in the air!!!!! the referee promptly gives a free for handball. Its literally on the 18 yard line. They smash it, it hits our wall, falls to a player who looks VERY offside, and whaddya know? They equalise. 3 fuckin' all. Can ya believe it? Penalties again. I took my place at half way with the rest of the boys, unsure of myself from the penalty spot since my heartbreaking miss for MOOPS FC this past April. Here we are (me at the edge, in my Ebbsfleet jersey, we were waiting for new jerseys, didn't have enough so i just had to wear red and stick the number on with tape...I chose 71 cos it was easy to tape on and a lot of other numbers were taken)

We watched nervously as the penalties were taken. They miss two of theirs and we calmly put away every spot kick. Fittingly, its player of the tournament Mark McKeever who nets the winner. We go apeshit again and then promptly congratulate our opponents on an epic final, played in very good spirits. We celebrate a bit then have to go to the trophy ceremony. Amidst this I'm informed that with 5 goals I've won the tournaments golden boot. What a start to Daegu Devils life, eh? I think I was the first award announced and here's a little pic of me receiving it:

other awards were given and lastly, after the organiser congratulates both us and Busan Utd. for the greatest final he's ever seen in the history of the competition, we received our 2011 Ulsan Cup Champions Trophy:

accepted by Bino and Timmy.

After that, we cracked out some Cuban cigars, some beers and drank from the cup: 

After that we headed back to Daegu and to a local bar (our jersey sponsors) Travellers. El Vino did flow, Spurs beat the Arse 2-1, Kyle Walker scored a cracker, no school the next day, what more could ye want?

Since then we had one match rescheduled which is gonna be played this weekend against Daegu whipping boys Sydney Street FC. This past Sunday we had a helluva long journey for an away match in a shithole called Jeonju. They're a good team and we got a hard earned 1-1 away draw which isn't bad but we should have won. One of the lads scored possibly the greatest goal I've seen in person- this whopper overhead kick but it got disallowed for offside, I was constantly called offside when I wasn't- the ref even telling me the linesman was wrong, to which i replied "then why did you blow your whistle??".....anyway, not the end of the world. Hopefully we're gonna kick on and win this league and there'll be plenty of happy updates about the Devils. 

Every Sunday is Devils Sunday.

Peace out scrotes!

Choo-Choo-Chuseok pt. II: 'What happened in Busan'

Alright scrotes.

As is my wont I'm already getting ridiculously behind on blog posts and a lotta stuff is happening or things I want to post about are being put on the long finger so I may try make this one snappy. So without further ado.

In our previous installment, our two young heroes had endured a harrowing journey via the depths of hell to Busan. But they made it! We hopped on the subway and were met by our good friends Ciara (who was generously letting us stay at her apartment) and Emilio (who was generously letting Ciara stay with him while we crashed at hers). We didn't mess about too much and headed out for a birthday/ugly clothing night celebration. We did our best to ugg ourselves up for the occassion and some succeeded more than others:

Needless to say, the craic was had, alcohol was consumed in copious amounts and their were heads in the morning. Here's a great picture of the whole gang that met up that night:

The next day was Baseball day! Baseball is huge in Korea and Busan offered myself and Maireads first opportunity to witness the sport at first hand. Yet again, a gaggle of westerners was assembled and we headed out to see the local Busan team Lotte Giants overcome some other team that we never did quite manage to get the name of. Anyway, with one eye half on the game and the rest of my attention focused on drinking, I ended up thoroughly enjoying my baseball experience wherein I even allowed myself to sample the wonders of a corndog. The strangest moment of the game had to be when the whole home crowd proceeded to place orange plastic bags on their head towards the end of the game. Me and Emilio had happened to be out smoking when they handed the bags out and got quite a large chorus of 'Boo' when we appeared from the inner recesses of the stadium bagless. Luckily a kind Korean woman spared our blushes by producing two spare bags.

Now I may be getting the days mixed up but I think that evening resulted in us beginning our epic search for the fabled 'Korean donut' for Mairead. Mairead's sweet tooth salivated as she was informed of the wonders of this exotic foreign treat that was not like a regular donut. She had to have one. The guy who sold them had closed his little stall however so we went to a rock bar instead where we requested banging tunes all night, enjoying such classics as The Pogues, The Beatles, a birra The Boss etc. It was the first time I'd heard good music while on a night out since I got here so I was chuffed.

The next day we chilled for the most part, nursing our ever growing accumulative hangovers. That night however it was time for some beach drinking and boy was it eventful. The evening began on a rather low note as we absconded to a well renowned Irish bar famous for its craic, caint agus ceoil- The Wolfhound. It was very dead and we were a little disappointed. But not to worry says you! Beach drinking was a mere walk away. So we headed on down to  Haeundae beach. We sat on some steps and sand and knocked back some beers and soju, we ignored the fact that what seemed to be a genuine American nutcase had infiltrated our ranks.

It was at this point that Mairead, Ciara and Emilio decided to go out and stand in the water to enjoy the swirl around their feet. Being the dour kill-joy that I am, I did not join them, opting instead to drink more soju on the steps. Suddenly I was approached by Emilio with the news that Mairead had been grabbed and dunked into the water. We were pretty pissed off about it and promptly went in search of the culprits. It was hard to tell who it was and we may or may not have accosted the correct people at one point but we couldn't be sure and everyone claimed innocence. Without even so much as an apology, we returned to the now drenched damsel in distress. She was taking it pretty well, unlike American nutjob who proceeded to shout expletives about the French. Every so often our conversation was interrupted by him getting increasingly louder as he uttered "...the fuCKINNGG FREEEENCCCCCHHHHH!"

Anyway, Mairead was soaked and beginning to shiver. But never fear, the boyfriend was here. My mind instantly went into overdrive in an attempt to somehow rectify this situation so that we could stay out, have more fun without Mairead being uncomfortable or getting sick. It clicked. I dashed off not a moment too soon in search of the nearest apparel store. I came across a charming little woman with a less than toothy grin who was selling an array of beach shorts and flip flops. Without caring to attempt to break our language barrier and inquire about sizes, I grabbed the cheapest pair of shorts I could find and returned at a canter to the rest of the group. Myself and Mairead afforded ourselves some privacy by the shore and I gave her my dry jeans while I slipped on the recently purchased shorts. She had already acquired a spare tshirt from ciara as well as a cardigan. I had to make one more rather embarrassing trip back to the aforementioned lady to buy a pair of flip flops for Mairead. The end result of this whole debaccle looked a little something like this:

The shorts got plenty of comments and stares and even some props when the backstory behind them was filled in. The night however took yet another nasty turn. As we returned to our steps to continue our beverage consumption, at some stage an Asian fellow approached us and sat down. He seems to have been Japanese. As a friendly gesture Emilio offered him some Soju which he quickly accepted. He wasn't so willing to accept the fact he had to give it back however. He turned quite nasty, insisting the Soju was his and at one point grabbing Emilio. I had barely noticed he was there up unitl this all erupted so I'm not sure of the full details. Anyway, he seemed crazy. There was a very short Mexican stand-off and then we left him to harass other unsuspecting members of the public along the beach. Eventually it was time for home after a rather dramatico moment in our lives. (Korean in-joke)

The rest of the trip I am unsure of the order of. We explored Busan and Mairead frequently and in vain searched for the famed Korean donut. Although she did find Krispy Kreme

Where she became a window licker and donut lover! We went to another branch of the rock bar we'd been at before. This one was 14 stories high and overlooked Haeundae beach but unfortunately the best I got out of the DJ was some Eminem- which was very enjoyable to rap out however.

At some point we visited a temple which I forget the name is but I think I'm already at the point of ya seen one ya seen em all.....and I've only seen two. Cynicism growing exponentially with age it would seem.

A momentous finish to the whole trip was when me and Mairead were actually on our last sojourn around Busan before getting our gear and going home, one last attempt was made to see if Korean donut man was there. Miraculously he was. Donuts were ordered, satisfied groans were exchanged between sweet lovers and smiles were evident all round. It had all turned out ok.

Me and Mairead left Busan with one lingering thought hanging over us "I wish we had the beach in Daegu."


Later scrotes. There is much to fill in, such as my exploits with my Expat football team Daegu Devils, The lowdown on the area where I live, the school I teach in, the kids I teach, some odd items for sale in Korean shop windows.....so I'm unsure what the next entry will entail. For now hope you all had a very merry Chuseok at home and I can't wait to celebrate it again next year.

Peace scrotes.

Choo-Choo-Chuseok Pt. I

Alright scrotes!

I'm gonna split this entry into a couple of parts cos I've dramatised our journey to Busan to such a degree that the post is rather long. I don't know about yous but personally I like my internet reading to be nice short and snappy so I don't want to be providing you guys with posts that are a size I wouldn't read myself. So, on with the show.

Last time I introduced you to the wonders of Soju. So appetising was my description of this nectar of the gods (buddha's?) that one of our faithful followers actually splashed out 9 blips on a bottle back home. The Hop House saw you coming Crybn, its under a euro for a bottle here. So this time I'm going to enlighten you about a little Korean holiday we enjoyed called Chuseok. Pronounce it Chew-sock, but don't try to pronounce it while chewing a sock.

Anyway, bad jokes aside, Chuseok is kind of like a Korean thanksgiving. It's a harvest/pay respects to the dead type of holiday. This year it fell on September 12th. What this meant was that only 2 weeks into working over here we had a 3 day holiday which amounted to 5 days off in a row including the weekend. On Chuseok most Koreans go back to their family home. They eat, drink and be merry as do all on a national holiday. However, apparently its not a nice time for the majority of women as they have to do all the cooking etc., not too dissimilar from many Irish homes at Christmas I'd wager. Chuseok is also a time for remembering the dead. Ancestors tombs are visited, respects are paid, the area surrounding the tomb is given a nice once over. Now most Koreans do the whole visiting the tomb, having the big feast etc. BUT when I asked my sixth graders what they did for Chuseok there were those among them who simply replied 'I played computer games.' So ya never know, maybe the old traditions are giving way to the smothering embrace of technology- which they are absolutely nuts about actually-smartphones abound everywhere ya go and I see kids as young as 5 or 6 with Iphones. Craziness.

Back to Chuseok however and our experience of it here.

We went to a place called Busan.

We drank for 5 days.

That is all.

Ah no, only pulling ye by the short and curlies. That is what we did pretty much but I'll fill in some of the gory details.

So, myself and Mairead's journey began one fine Friday evening as we met up at approximately 5 p.m. after school. Quite foolishly we had booked a train for 5.50 p.m leaving Daegu and headed for Busan. We had never travelled to the station before and we may have been slightly optimistic with our hopes of how close it was.

We boarded the subway at approximately 5.15/5.20 or so and instantly began doubting our abilities of making the train on time. The journey was a tense one. Doubts were expressed. Blame was silently attributed to the other party by both parties, no accusations made but accusations felt in the piercing stares that we alternately exchanged with each other. Nerves began to get the better of me and when I realised my passport was in my luggage and that I needed it to prove my ticket reservation I began to despair. On a crowded, stuffy subway I made a rather fumbling, vain and embarrassing attempt to extract the passport from the inner regions of my mini suit case. But alas to no avail. Like a true strong Irish woman however, when I had lost all hope and was just about ready to leave the case behind and head for home, Mairead stepped in and calmly retrieved my passport. The old korean women beside us gave me a look that said 'he is not a man', rather astute of them if I do say so myself. Crisis averted for now.

We arrived at Dongdaegu subway station and began to run. It was only at this point that we observed that neither of us actually knew the location of Dongdaegu train station. We desperately hoped it would just appear in front of us whatever direction we galloped towards. An attempt to get the information out of some locals turned into a meeting with a couple of slack jawed gawkers, so we kept on truckin along. We began to follow a sign for the train station, it happened to point to the right where there was a road and an elevator. For some reason we believed the elevator to be the gateway to the station. It promptly landed us right back down in the subway station we had emerged from moments earlier. It began to feel like someone didn't want us in Busan. Nerves and relations were certainly frayed by this point. I know I considered packing it in and not bothering but Mairead was insistent that we do our darndest to make the 5.50 train we had already shelled out 15,000 won each for. We started to really leg it, and began to sweat like a couple of pigs on a roasting spit. As we entered the station I clocked us at 5.46.

Now, we had made it but there was still one minor concern. We had only a ticket reservation sheet with us but no tickets. As we stumbled into the main area of the station our hearts sank, our heads wildly turned this way and that in the hope of seeing a ticket booth. All we could see were electronic machines to get tickets from. My last ounce of hope of making the train evaporated so Mairead once again took the lead and tried to get tickets from the machine. To no avail. We decided on just jumping on the train with the reservation. We made it down to our platform feeling very uncomfortable and tired. It musta been 5.48 maybe even 5.49 now. I don't know what possessed me at this point but I had the sudden impulse to give printing the tickets from the machine one last try. I dumped the bags with a flabbergasted Mairead and set off into the distance up the escalator. I pelted towards the e-machine for tickets and entered my reservation number with a flourish; 'By George I've got it' I exclaimed (*editors note: some phrases/dialogue may have been exaggerated for dramatic purposes). But today of course was not a day when things went right. After successfully entering the reservation number, it asked for a password. A fucking password? What fucking password? The website never gave me a fucking password for fuck sake!!?!?!? That is how I felt right there. I gave the machine a light punch and ran back to the platform, the train had arrived and people were embarking. I couldn't see Mairead. I looked along the platform in a panic and eventually heard the light cry of 'Mark! Mark!' Ah, there she was. So I took my luggage from the poor struggling maiden and we entered an economy class carriage. Like any true Irish folk abroad we were using their public transport with no tickets to show.

We stood in between carriages sheepishly, dripping sweat, just hoping no one would ask for tickets.

10 minutes in a Korean woman in KTX uniform (KTX is the train we got- Korean speed train- makes journeys incredibly short around the country- its whopper!) asked us for tickets. I promptly produced my reservation, my passport and explained our harrowing tale as best I could to her. "That's ok" she said and off she went. Travelling back we were never asked to show tickets and my friend told me there are signs in the station that say 'we trust you', so there ya go. Halfway through the journey we got seats and it was finally plain sailing to Busan. We arrived within 45 minutes.

Well thats it for now, stay tuned for 'Chuseok pt. II: What Happened in Busan', also entitled 'What Ned did'.

Peace scrotes!

"Allow me to introduce myself"

This is Soju.

It is an alcoholic beverage.

This will be the first thing I inform people of back home about Korea.

Maybe its an Irish thing or maybe its because this is about as close as I've come to being exposed to something thats actually uniquely Korean. Since the start of orientation, the pleasures of Soju have been sampled many many times and so I thought it appropriate to let the folks back home find out what they're missing. So without further ado; a brief introduction to Soju.


Since I'm a lazy bastard and I really couldn't have put it better or more succintly myself, I'll let the wonderful wisdom of Wikipedia take the lead here. According to wikipedia:

"Soju is a distilled beverage native to Korea. Its taste is comparable to vodka, though often slightly sweeter due to sugars added in the manufacturing process, and more commonly consumed neat.
Most brands of soju are made in South Korea. Though it is traditionally made from rice, most modern producers of soju use supplements or even replace rice with other starches, such as potatoes, wheat, barley, sweet potatoes, or tapioca.

Soju is clear in colour and typically varies in alcohol content from about 18.5% to about 45% alcohol by volume (ABV), with 20% ABV being most common. It is widely consumed, in part, because of its relatively low price in Korea. A typical 300mL bottle of soju costs the consumer 1,000 to 3,000 South Korean Won in South Korea (roughly $1 to $3 United States Dollars). In the USA, it tends to cost substantially more – $6 or more."

That pretty much sums it up folks. Its a lighter, sweeter vodka. Myself and anyone else I've drank it with have been sticking to the 20% stuff, it seems to be the most common and its dirt cheap- less than a euro for a 300ml bottle. In fact, Myself and Mairead usually split at least a bottle between us every night. An increasingly necessary habit due to the stress of teaching elementary school kids. But shop talk is for another time! On with the Soju!

Here are some photos of our wonderful model Mairead with the Soju in her apartment:

Aw, isn't she lovely!!

But beware, because over indulgence can easily cause a night that began as above to end as below:

(Photo courtesy of Emilio Bryer II)
......it doesn't take a genius to see that too much Soju is bad mojo. Ya see, because of the sweetness and lower alcohol level, you can really knock back the stuff. Its easy enough to knock back straight but add even a dash of coke, Hot 6 (red bull substitute) or tropicana and you'll really start to fly through em. As if that wasn't bad enough, a lotta bars sell reasonably priced pitchers of flavoured Soju which look a little like these

and which really go down a treat. One definite positive thats come from the whole Soju experience so far is not a trace of a hangover to be seen and fingers crossed it'll stay that way for the next 11 months!

Now, I haven't drank with any Koreans really since my very first night here but Mairead and other people have with workmates etc. and there is a bit of an etiquette with Soju so ya gotta be careful if you're swinging with the natives. Firstly, you never NEVER pour your own drink. This I found intensely annoying as many people at orientation wanted it enforced even when there were no Koreans but the bar staff around. I guess some people saw it as respectful, I stomached it for a short while then usually said fuck it and poured me own. But with Koreans, it ain't done. The upside to this is, they constantly fill up your glass once its empty, its considered rude not to and much of the time they will bear the brunt of the bill, particularly workmates, or so I've heard tell! So if you're looking to get shitfaced and not pay a cent, hope to stumble upon some natives. In fact I do have vague recollections of having full bottles of beer and Soju shoved into my hand at a karaoke bar in Jeonju where we had orientation by this very friendly young Korean man....perhaps a little TOO friendly, but c'est la vie.

Now as well as not pouring your own, when someone else pours for you (particularly an elder) you should hold the glass up with both your hands. When pouring for someone (especially an elder- Koreans have mad respect for elders or so we're told-although I never see them offered seats on the subway when its full except for me and my mate Emilio however, so you'd wonder), anyway I digress....what was I saying. Ah, Koreans two hands, they're mad for it, especially when giving/receiving drinks and gifts and who knows what else eh? So apparently you rest it in your left palm and hold it with your right hand....but I dunno, I think they forgive foreigners generally if they get it wrong. Oh and although some of us quite like the mixers and the fruity sojus, Koreans rarely mix it, just drinking straight shots. Me and Mairead got a bit of a dirty look when we mixed coke with our Soju at a restaurant- drinking shots of it with meals is the done thing ya see, but Maireads a fiend for an auld mixer and sure I won't say no either! What was worse was they'd brought the Soju out in this mad fancy bottle with a giant Ice cube embedded into it to keep the Soju cool. Then us ignant waygooks (korean for foreigner) come in dunking it into our glasses of coke. Fuck it, tasted scrumptious!

So yeah, I think thats pretty much it. Just had to keep the lads informed on the booze situ over here. Oh yeah, a bit of history on it- The Mongols (thats Bills lot) brought it here in the 13th century so its as old as Davy and then some.

Hope y'all enjoyed and that some of yis might someday be visiting for a Soju or two.

Gom Be!

......thats 'Chee-urs' in Korean.

Peace.