This past weekend was the Cherry Blossom Festival in JinHae, a small town about 3 hours east of us. We hopped on a bus with our three friends, Brooke, Ryan and Matt on Saturday and arrived at about 5:00 PM. There were cherry trees lining every road and major hang out area. They really were beautiful and we spent the evening wandering through the market that had sprung up to cater to the nearly 2,000,000 people that would come over the course of the festival.
One of the most popular meals was halves of pigs, slow roasting over hot coals. There were probably 10 - 20 different tent restaurants that were serving this dish. We partook, and it was fantastic. Surprisingly expensive for Korea, but delicious and worth it in the end.
We ate, we walked, we sat and we called it a night. We were thankful because it was supposed to rain all weekend long, and the rain stopped before we even got on the bus that afternoon.
The next day was not raining, but something worse than rain. It was a dust storm.
Dust from China/Mongolia had kicked up something fierce and it was the worst storm of the year so far. They issue advisories for 400 micrograms of dust per cubic meter. Warnings come at 800 micrograms. Yesterday's storm was 1100 micrograms. We didn't know that. We walked about 8 - 10 kilometers. Within the first hour, we had all bought baby blue masks (quite common here) to help filter out some of the dust. It was a wretched feeling and just made you feel gross all over.
It should be on the west coast of North America within the next two or three days, so tell us what you think!
Dust aside, it was a good time. Culturally, we (being from wide open spaces) were expecting something a little more like a "Cherry Blossom Forest" and a little less like "Cherry Blossom Carnival," which is a more suiting title. Being in Korea, you learn to not expect things to be a certain way but to just be happy for what things are.
For what it was, it was good.
Monday, April 02, 2007
This is your flesh. Say goodbye.
On Saturday, I (Jon) went to the doctor for a general checkup with some questions I had. I needed some asthma medication, my wrist had been bothering me and I had a mole on my head that I wanted to look into getting removed.
I get the prescription for the asthma medicine, which was about $2. For all you asthmatics out there, that was brand name Ventolin, which will run you probably $100 in Canada. Pharmaceutical companies are evil. I digress.
The mole will be about $20 to remove. I wanted to get rid of it because it gets cut, poked, prodded, etc. every time I get a hair cut.
The doctor says my wrist is likely a bruised tendon and he can give me a shot of anti-inflammatories, no problem. He says this after feeling around my wrist for the problem, thereby aggravating the problem. I say sounds good. Relief would be nice.
So the good doctor ushers me into the "procedure room," which is about 10 beds, two feet apart from each other. You can see what every one else is having done. Perhaps like medical window shopping. "Oh, that looks good! I'll take two."
He asks me to lie down. I think that it's to get the proper angle for my wrist injection. He says it'll be a small incision and asks about previous general anesthetics. I'm getting curious as to what kind of injection this will be. He says he's going to cut my hair.
I'm getting my mole removed. Didn't ask for it, just asked the price of it. Hair - cut. Freezing - frozen. "You'll feel a slight tingle. I'm using electricity to burn it off of your head." Smell - burning flesh and hair. Nurse draws curtain. Burning flesh - not good advertising. I feel the tingle. About two minutes later, a bandage appears three inches from my face. Behold! My mole.
"This is your flesh. Say goodbye." End quote. One of our friends, Ryan, said it would be a good tag line for some new horror movie.
Wrist - still hurting. Mole - gone. Healing nicely too, by the way. Classic Korean misunderstanding.
I get the prescription for the asthma medicine, which was about $2. For all you asthmatics out there, that was brand name Ventolin, which will run you probably $100 in Canada. Pharmaceutical companies are evil. I digress.
The mole will be about $20 to remove. I wanted to get rid of it because it gets cut, poked, prodded, etc. every time I get a hair cut.
The doctor says my wrist is likely a bruised tendon and he can give me a shot of anti-inflammatories, no problem. He says this after feeling around my wrist for the problem, thereby aggravating the problem. I say sounds good. Relief would be nice.
So the good doctor ushers me into the "procedure room," which is about 10 beds, two feet apart from each other. You can see what every one else is having done. Perhaps like medical window shopping. "Oh, that looks good! I'll take two."
He asks me to lie down. I think that it's to get the proper angle for my wrist injection. He says it'll be a small incision and asks about previous general anesthetics. I'm getting curious as to what kind of injection this will be. He says he's going to cut my hair.
I'm getting my mole removed. Didn't ask for it, just asked the price of it. Hair - cut. Freezing - frozen. "You'll feel a slight tingle. I'm using electricity to burn it off of your head." Smell - burning flesh and hair. Nurse draws curtain. Burning flesh - not good advertising. I feel the tingle. About two minutes later, a bandage appears three inches from my face. Behold! My mole.
"This is your flesh. Say goodbye." End quote. One of our friends, Ryan, said it would be a good tag line for some new horror movie.
Wrist - still hurting. Mole - gone. Healing nicely too, by the way. Classic Korean misunderstanding.
That's right...
These are all the people that I, Jon, apparently look like. Each one is said with varying degrees of amusement (gales of laughter vs. genuinely serious) but all with sincere enough belief that that is my "dead ringer."
I just don't see it.
I just don't see it.
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