Tablet goodness spotted in the wild

With so many great tablet options coming out this year, I'm anxious but patient to get one of my own. Here in Korea where iPhones seem particularly popular, I've seen very few iPads but increasingly more Galaxy Tabs and what might be other iterations of tablet goodness.

Tonight on a short subway ride in Seoul, I spotted two lasses engrossed in their own toys and couldn't help but stare and stare, a habit I try to avoid because I don't care for all the stares I usually get myself as a big, bearded non-Korean. The gal on the left is playing a game on what I originally suspected to be a 7 inch Galaxy Tab, while the gal on the right was watching a movie or perhaps, more likely, a Korean drama, on a larger device I could not place (don't believe it was an iPad).

Beyond the drooling the devices in the wild induced, I was struck that they were being used by two young women - OK, two, young, attractive women - not who you typically picture as the early adopter types.

Pillows and self-serve soda

On Thursday, I took a few hours off work and rode the to Daejoen, a city of 1.5 million 45 minutes east of Gongju.  With the results of my AIDS/drug test in hand, I traveled to the immigration office to submit an application for my alien registration card.  I representative from the school usually submits the application on behalf of foreigners or at least accompanies them to the office, but I've done this enough times, even by myself, I felt confident I could do it on my own.  My motivation to get my application submitted is that I can't get a "hand phone" until I have my AR card.  After an unusually long wait of two hours, I got my application submitted.  The immigration officer said it will take 10 days to process, mail, and receive the card in the mail (I assume business days), which might turn out to take longer because of the upcoming Chuseok  holiday (Sept. 21-23). 

My secondary purpose in going to Daejeon was to go to Costco.  From the two times I went to Costco in Seoul several years ago, I learned that much of what they carry is customized to the Korean customer base, but they also carry many things we want and expect them to carry in the States, like Lifetime tables and chairs.  I planned to just browse the store to familiarize myself with what they carry, but I hoped to find a few things I've been unable to find on my "to buy" list, like pillows and sheets.  It's tricky to explain how Korean pillows and sheets differ from American pillows and sheets, but I don't care for them here.

To my eyes, the massive Costco building I saw is a heartwarming tribute to American consumerism and capitalism.  Korea has their share of homegrown and outside megastores, but Costco screams, "You need our reasonable quality stuff, and you need them in large quantities, and we're even going to charge you a membership fee to get in the store, so you'll lust after our stuff more by thinking you're missing out if you don't have a card."  THAT'S America.

After entering the building and showing my membership card, I walked through the big screen TVs and stopped to don a pair of 3D glasses to watch my first 3D large screen television.  It was pretty cool.  Past the electronics, I found the bedding, and it was all Korean styles until I discovered a large bin selling two packs of queen size Sealy Posturepedic pillows.  Amazing!  I might have danced a little jig on the spot.  I was additionally pleased they were so cheap, just 15,900 won (about $16).  I just bought a pair, though I wanted four, as I had to consider how to carry everything home on the bus.  Unfortunately, they didn't sell pillow cases to match the pillows, and I doubt I'll find them here.

Aside from a 20 pack of dish towel size towels, that's all I bought.  It was tempting to buy more, but as I learned here last time around, it doesn't do much good to shop too often where you have to buy in large quantities if you don't have your own ride to get it home.

As you'll be able to tell from the pictures, the food court at the end of the store is nearly identical to those back home.  I smiled when I saw they offered bulgogi bakes along with chicken bakes, so I had one.  It was outstanding, sort of like a Philly cheesesteak sandwich.  

The best part of my journey came when I ordered my food and was offered an empty soda cup.  When I first came to Korea eight years ago, I was a little obsessed with finding self-serve fountain drinks.  They were practically impossible to find, so I had to settle for fountain drinks from McDonald's and KFC and canned soda, something I hated at the time but have since accepted.  When I saw these twin soda machines, I smiled.  "It only took me eight years to find you," I thought in a trembling voice, as I contemplated kneeling in homage.

And now I finally know I can get a self serve fountain drink in Korea whenever I have two hours and about $16 in bus and taxi fares to spare.  If I go, at least I'll have the chance to buy two more pillows, huh?

Korean bathroom instructions

How to use a urinal
Originally uploaded by digitalnut

One day, while strolling through the TechnoMart in Seoul, I felt the call of nature. While answering said call, I was faced with the above picture. Though I can read Korean, I couldn't understand the words, but I had no problem understanding the graphics.

How about you?

The party is over

Good Bye Chuncheon
Originally uploaded by digitalnut

I'm just shy of two years home from Korea. In some ways, returning to Utah was the right decision: I regained a small portion of my sanity, I proved myself as a capable, appealing teacher on my home court, and I even got back into the dating game (thanks to a helpful push).

In some other ways, though, I wonder if it remains right to stay home. The better money aside, the life of an expatriate teaching English in South Korea is simply more exciting, and I look at the number of pictures these days I take as exhibit number one.

I bought my first digital camera six years ago, prior to visiting China for the first time. Since then, I've organized my photos on my computer by year and month. Though I was an aspiring photog from the beginning, it took a while to reach my monthly average of 300 - 400 pictures a month, which is where it stood two years ago.

Since returning home, I'm lucky if I average 50 a month. I concede we're always surrounded by a multitude of picture taking possibilities, but going from exotic Asia to ordinary America has left me uninspired. Out of habit, I still carry my Canon PowerShot S50 everywhere, but I'm ashamed to admit it often lies forgotten in the bottom of my backpack.

"So," an old friend recently asked, "why don't you go back to Korea?"

Perhaps I could rejoin the dating scene back in Korea, though I'd have to give up living my beloved 춘천 (Chuncheon - see the highway sign in the photo). Perhaps I could take a leave of absence from getting my teaching credentials, though the folks at the USOE ARL office would probably say no. And perhaps I could even find a job in Korea, given my experience, that doesn't require me to take entry level pay and work entry level hours.

Those are a lot of uncertainties I'd be willing to take if it wasn't for the nagging feeling I have that I'm trying to recreate the perfect party. You know how it goes: with apparently little planning or forethought, you and a friend throw a perfect party. The friends, the food, the drinks, the atmosphere, it all comes together and even becomes legendary as the perfect party.

Later, in an attempt to recreate the fun, you try to recreate every element of said perfect party to no avail. Something about that first party will always remain elusive because you've elevated it beyond what it actually was and closed yourself off to a new experience.

In some ways, I prefer to preserve my memories of Korea, China, Taiwan, and Japan as they are in my mind right now: the perfect party.