Japan and The Dong

Traveling is good. Traveling is fun. I wish a good travel for everyone. It can, however, result in certain quiet afflictions of the digestive nature. One type, in Korean, is called 변비, pronounced something like: pyeonpi. Its opposite, diarrhea, is spelled 설사 and is pronounced: salsa. No kidding. A friend of mine was alerted to this by his students, who warned, "That food will make you salsa!" My friend responded with, "Salsa?!" and broke into a smooth dance step. His students groaned, "Ohhhh no, teacher!" and proceeded to clarify the meaning.

Koreans accept discussion of bowel movements far more readily than I'm accustomed. During orientation, one lecturer introduced this video of Chan Ho Park, an MLB baseball player from Korea, as an example:

The orientation lecturer wasn't exaggerating. If you're interested in owning an adorable poop-shaped keychain, I now know where to buy one. If you want to reflect on where the bread you're eating will eventually end, I can show you the perfect restaurant in Gwangju:

Dong= Poop. Bang= Bread

Dong also means "place". Each district of a city is a dong, i.e. Juwol-dong, Bongseon-dong

Photo Courtesy of Christopher Hurst

I've also learned how to draw the cutest little poop you've ever seen. During summer camp, I peered over the shoulders of three students who were supposed to be inventing a new Olympic sport. The poster in front of them showed merely this:

"~Ass Sin?" Not quite. 

The squiggly lines at the top indicate scent only. I watched them draw this one. 

In an attempt to explain themselves, one student pointed to his friend and said, "He loves the dong! He loves it! He only wants to draw it!" Throwing up his hands and shrugging his shoulders, the friend agreed, "I love the dong!". I responded, perhaps wrongly, by bursting into laughter. Moments like this leave me increasingly convinced that I need a secret camera to record this stuff. Thick glasses with a little microphone? Maybe.

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Sooooo... Japan. I went there. It was marvelous. And clean. And oh-so very, very flashy. The fashion was everything I hoped to see, and the sushi transcended any conception I held of what sushi could be. Floating from one historic site to the next in a cloud of magical wonderment, I concluded that I'd reached a state of enlightenment. It was, as best I could explain, also the reason why a certain regular body process had stopped completely. Though it'd occurred before in times of intensive traveling, and more than a few companions have complained of the same issue, the duration of this experience was altogether new. Viewed in the best possible scenario, this entirely unanticipated spiritual promotion was at once pleasing and terrifying.

Porta-Potties for this guy? Never.

Buddhist statue in Osaka, Japan

As nice as it was to gaze condescendingly at all the lesser beings, so tied-down by their need to schedule bathroom breaks, a sense of concern began to grow. I knew so little of the life beyond. And I'd just learned how to draw the dong! Was it now a useless skill? Ought I to stop eating too? Does a life of enlightenment offer any other benefits? At the peak of my distress, one Japanese architectural structure pushed me to the edge. Ladies and gents, meet the Asahi Building:

The Asahi Beer Hall

Tokyo, Japan

To quote from Wikipedia, "It is noted for the Asahi Flame, an enormous golden structure at the top, said to represent the 'burning heart of Asahi beer'... The Asahi Flame is often colloquially referred to as 'the golden turd' (kin no unko, 金のうんこ) and the Asahi Beer Hall itself as "poo building" (unko-biru, うんこビル) by many Tokyo residents". For a newly-enlightened being, the mocking glow of The Golden Turd from its place along the skyline proved to be too much. I bolted for the closest pharmacy where my bemused traveling companion and I poured over every box that might possibly alter my situation. 

 No English on this pharmacy shelf! 

While the boxes themselves provided little encouragement, the pharmacist's English was great. All was soon enough restored to good working order, and I felt no qualms about moving forward as a normal human being. The rest of the trip was ideal. I played with semi-wild deer, curled up in a cozy bar in the company of new friends who swapped stories in Italian, Spanish, Japanese, German, Georgian, and some English, slept on traditional Japanese tatami mats, toured palaces and temples, and seriously considered moving to Japan. 

I'm still considering it. But I'm also vaguely considering NYC, another year in Korea, and other vague possibilities that must begin to materialize by this October when I'm required to resign my EPIK contract or choose otherwise. If you know any excellent opportunities where you live for a certified art teacher who wants to pursue a masters degree in ESL, please let me know. I'm open to options.

Sincerely,
Bethany

PS- I LOVE hearing from everyone who reads this blog. It keeps me writing! Thank you!!:)