Ode to Around-ing the World

How appropriate that after my trans-pacific, cross-continental travels I watch a man and his minority sidekick accomplish the feat in a mere eighty days. I have to admit, I had no interest in the movie other than the notable Oscar in the corner (winner for best picture in 1957) and the elaborate drawing of the hot air balloon on the DVD cover. I have a soft spot for hot air balloons and journeys made therein; Pippi Longstocking did it and so did this French guy in a children’s book I love so dearly.

I’ve had this desire to see every best picture. Something about the Oscar label makes me think watching that film can be a nice snapshot of film in that year, and a good 2-hour investment of a somewhat timeless cinematic experience. A best picture of one year will surely be considered notable for years and years to come, right?

It seems, however, that those years do have a limit. Never mind the sexually charged, perpetually tardy, “ethnic” sidekick (Passepartout is supposed to be Latin?) contrasted with the uptight, painfully punctual, libido frozen Brit Phileas Fogg. And never mind that Shirley MacLaine played an Indian (yes INDIAN) princess. I thought the movie was…dare I say it, boring. I understand that the film was made in a different era, made in the fashion of a genre with strict rules. But watching these three tackle one national obstacle after another, I might as well have been watching a home video of my relatives in Korea battling for the remote

I understand where the movie is coming from and making this film must have truly been an achievement back in 57. Released in a time when people were preparing to send people out into space, the filmmakers must have been aiming for Jules Verne's theme of possibility in all things impossible (I haven’t read the book, actually, so I could be totally off, but that’s what I gathered from the film’s introduction). But to me, this grand and truly timeless theme Verne put forth in his novel definitely did not translate here. It was just, the British guy, the ethnically ambiguous guy with a Mexican accent, and Shirley where’s-your-red-hair MacLaine in traditional Indian garb running through one continental diorama after another.

Around the World in Eighty Days
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Ode to Recovery

It’s funny what a difference a small sandwich, fresh fruit, and a small travel-size bottle of wine can make. Well into the PM I now feel much better, if not just a tad bit apprehensive about my impending 11 hour flight. But only 11 hours! I just dipped my foot into Anna Karenina in my last flight from Seoul to Tokyo and it seems promising.

Now I just have to contemplate how many days after my previous post I should post this one. I’m still too cheap for internet, so I will most likely be in NYC by the time this makes it to the cybersphere.


P.S. I am, indeed, in NYC and have just had my first law school reception. More later. Maybe.

Ode to Disaster

I just got done talking to my friend Ahrum about my love-hate relationship with Korea. She, too, has a love/hate relationship that’s souring more on the hate side at the moment, but we always pull ourselves out of it. That’s how we misanthropes work.

After all the ups, downs, and side-to-sides, I’m really sad that I have to leave the country in this condition. I have just endured the most arduous morning of my entire life. Overdramatic? Ok, perhaps the most arduous morning of my life-long travelogue.

This was supposed to be a winter when I did things on my own. I frequented my relatives every now and then, cooked a ramen now and then, and worked out everyday. Don’t expect to see any noticeable results. I used the gym as an excuse to don shorts, listen to music, and grunt in spin class. But also for the first time, I made it to the airport all by myself. Or at least that’s how I’d planned it.

Tentative plans: 1) Check-in large luggage at nearby COEX airport terminal. 2) Have breakfast at my mom’s aunt’s restaurant right across the street at Samsung Station. 3) Return to apartment and tidy up. 4) Drop off key at Hoyah and walk to the bus stop about 1 block away with my backpack and suitcase.

The turnout: True to form, I tried to stay up all night watching tv and movies in order not to wake up too late. I also didn’t have a cell phone, which mean no alarm clock. 1) Fell asleep at around 4 am. I think my body was still winding down from going out to Club Day on Friday. 2) Wake up at 8 am feeling like a car has just run over me slowly. 3) Take my 2 large suitcases down two steep hills in order to catch a taxi on the main street. One of my bags must not have been packed properly because it kept on turning over as I rolled it down the hill. This made for an immensely frustrating (but probably quite hilarious to bystanders) experience. I actually saw people snickering at my fit of expletives and resorting to just dragging my bags down the hill. 4) Take a taxi to COEX only to find out that they only cater Korean Airlines and Asiana. I’m flying Japan Airlines. 5) Return to apartment only to repeat the entire process down to Hoyah where my “boss” helped me take my luggage to the bus stop.

After a prompt arrival at the airport, things should have been ok. After all, whenever you arrive early, that’s ALWAYS a good sign. Of course there are luggage issues and I have to rearrange my belongings, moving them from one suitcase to another. I know I tend to overreact a lot, but for some reason, going through that process of unzipping my suitcase for the world to see, even if there aren’t flashy undergarments to hide, seems like a complete violation. Like I have to drop my pants for a medical examination at Terminal 3. I know. Overreaction.

To top it all off, Incheon airport is apparently cracking down on carry-on luggage weight. This resulted in my having to pay over $100 to check in my small suitcase. This is criminal! I blame this all on my relatives who sent a year’s supply of dried seaweed and pungent chili pepper paste. No room for my recently acquired purchases –which by the way I am VERY satisfied with.

So here I sit once again waiting for another flight across the Pacific, my macbook succumbing to my fingers of fury over this incredible morning that has just passed before me. I was trying this whole new “positive-in; negative-out” mantra during my spin class because someone here told me I was too negative. So I have to sit here and think that somehow this whole experience will benefit me later on in life, when I’ll look back, chuckle, and say “wasn’t that funny?” Yeah, maybe in my next life as a piano mover.