Sound of Vitality

Gepik, the government organization responsible for hiring and grooming native English speakers for the public schools around Seoul, held its 2010 Orientation this week. Hundreds of honkys were bussed out to the country to lodge in a sort of hillside estate with lecture halls, a cafeteria, and dormitories. The forested surroundings were blooming with white blossoms and a hiking trail wound around the campus so one could steal off between lectures to take in some Korean natural scenery; a nice contrast to being in the sprawl of the megalopolis this past month. Seeing the variety of people who decided to move here and teach was interesting. The ages ran from early twenties to late forties. America, Canada, The UK, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa were all in the house. We were greeted by a crew of entirely female Korean coordinators who were kind of like a cross between Summer camp counselors and hot James Bond Villainesses, treading the line between accommodating hostess and sharp whip cracking dragon ladies keeping us individualistic Westerners on a carefully orchestrated time schedule composed of compulsory group activities. Another Korean company's stay happened to over lap ours and you could hear them every once in awhile all whooping some corporate war cry out in the forest while presumably engaged in synchronized calisthenics . We had it easy I guess. The opening ceremony was actually amazing. A group of traditional Korean dancers marched into the auditorium beating drums and blaring horns. They performed a series of whirling dervish-like dances that built up in speed and intensity. My interest in esoteric knowledge and mysticism lent me some insight into the meaning symbolized by the movements. Attached to a ball and socket joint in the headdress of each dancer was about a meter length of pliant tubing with a white globe at the end. By swiveling their necks they got the white ball to rhythmically orbit their bodies like a small planet in time with the music and dance. The lead dancer had the largest globe and it was plumed with white feathery radiations like a shining star. Koreans have been living on this peninsula for thousands of years and it was fascinating to see their culture has retained an interpretation of the generation and movement of the mental body, or the higher self, which traditionally manifests as a white auric halo above the head which can be strengthened through circulation exercises and eventually used as a sort of psychic appendage.

Anyhow. The nights turned into Spring Break 2010 American style and the onsite convenience store lived up to it's name by providing a seemingly endless flow of cheap Korean beer, cigarettes and snacks. I did my best to overcome shyness, just a form of inverted arrogance, and tried to think of other things to talk about besides the symbolic retention of the possibility of psychic evolution by Korean folk dances or the awesomeness of the new Fall LP "Yr Future, Our Clutter" which were forefront in my mind. I had a rough time navigating the typical but met a few cool individuals, got some smiles from cute chicks and in the end was able to appreciate the whole affair for all it was worth.

Rating of Korean Beers

Korean beer is bland, watery pilsner with little kick but most have their own unintentionally hilarious English slogans.

1. Cass, "Sound of Vitality" (when you crack one open near your ear you can hear Dionysius hollering in the wilderness)

2. Max, "Delicious Idea" (haha)

3. Hite, "Open Up!" (ok!)