a-knee-versary...

Around this time last year I was hobbling around Seoul. I spent my days on crutches, and evenings with my leg in the air. For those of you who are new, I dislocated my knee playing beach volleyball. I wrote about the experience in a three part series (read! pt.I, pt.II, pt.III). The hospital visit was atrocious, and I think has subsequently seriously hampered my recovery. While I have improved by leaps and bounds, my leg is only 85% a year later! I can run short distances, although not in the gym yet. I also have yet to receive any clearance to participate in sports.

Anywho, lets go back in time, the weekend after I dislocated my knee was the somewhat infamous Mud Festival in Boryeong. At my last school there was only one other teacher who missed the event (12 of 14 going). I couldn't attend because I could barely walk, let alone enter a slippery mud world. My fellow outcast was able to walk, she just hated white people at that point in time. Once my friends returned home I heard a somewhat scathing review of the event. I had heard that it was nothing but a bunch of infantile drunk expats, gallivanting around in the mud. I believe that some of the people included in last year's tour attributed to the review, but it was still awful enough to almost dissuade me from attending this year.

The event wasn't on my mind, or on my calender this year, and I was fine with that. My plan to skip the event was thwarted when an offer I couldn't refuse entered my Facebook inbox. I got bus, accomodation, and food for less than the price of a return train ticket to Boryeong. The Mud Festival self is held over two weekends (well I'm sure it's also on during the week but I'm sure it's lame), and my Korean class was headed the second of these weekends. I was hoping that a different weekend and crowd from the aforementioned review would change the outcome. My current co-workers went to the first weekend, and actually complained about the expat infusion.

I arrived excited, like a child at a carnival (There were actually some carnival rides in Boryeong, I stumbled upon them at 2am, and decided the Viking ship sounded like a good idea).  Every fifteen feet along the highway there were flags promoting the event. When I finally hit the boardwalk some dissapointment set in, I witnessed very few mud people. I mostly saw Korean families strolling around the boardwalk eating ice cream. What I didn't realize was that the beach was huge, it spread across most of the horizon. The Mud Festival, while much celebrated, was tucked away at the far end of the beach. Almost as if it had been hidden there, like an over advertised embarrassment to the community. Yet there at the end of the beach, an inflatable kingdom celebrating mud stood. It wasn't as big as I was expecting, (that's what she said) but it was neatly confined and ruling a small segment of the beach.

Outside of the venue you could paint yourself in mud (literally), this was completely free, although not really invigorating. In order to truly become a mud person, you had to pay admission to enter the inflated kingdom. Inside there were many attractions where you could fully cover yourself with little effort required. My favourite of these sites was the prison. The basic idea was to stand inside this (non inflated) room and get buckets of mud thrown at you. I went in multiple times, and at one point got mud inside my eye. An event that required a 3/4 of a bottle of visine to 'save' my contact lens. I was however, happily covered head to toe in mud while standing in front of the bathroom mirror!

I stayed away from the inflated activities due to my knee. I love bouncy castles, but the possibility of slipping was immense! I would visualize a mistep that would land me back into another ER nightmare. I wish I didn't have to worry about shit like that, but without having a fully healed knee I didn't really want to take the risk. I did watch as several of my friends partook though. They would line up patiently and wait for their opportunity to battle each other in obstacle courses, or elaborate tug o war competitions. Or they could line up for mud fights, and mud pits, which were over-sized inflatable pools.

My first day at the event I didn't really notice that there were Koreans everywhere taking photos. I walked around oblivious to their presence. It wasn't until the second day that I noticed, and remembered their attendance. I don't know why but I somewhat found it creepy, first off, they were inside the entrances (so they paid admission). Second, They stuck to the perimeter like a paparazzi mob.  I can't really comment to negatively as I was there on my second day taking photos myself, but I thought their presence was a little extreme.

In the end, my review differs greatly from the one I received. Although I did mention before that I originally thought the crowd involved was a large part of the scathing review. I was also surprised to see that the event was much more family oriented than I orgininally believed it could be. While alcohol is always present in Korea, it wasn't a centerpiece. I didn't run into drunken idiots, although I wasn't on the look out for them. My group was respectful and the event was as amazing as you could imagine being covered in mud could be, rich in vitamins.

a year in pictures (pt.I)

I've gone through and selected several photos that span my first year in Korea. I kind of feel bad because I haven't added and to FB.

February: Shortly after I arrived Canada won gold. The game started at 5am in Seoul, Gillian and I stayed up all night and shortly after 8am Canada won. This photo was taken shortly after they won Gold.  Read my post about the Gold Medal Game.






April:  Yeonshinae is a place full of lights, cafe's, restaurants and litter (Above). It is a place I've learned to love since arriving. 



These trees @ Namsan Tower in central Seoul are covered with cherry blossoms (Right). Koreans flock to see, and photograph these trees. It looked similar to mornings after icefog, except it's warm out, and there are bees everywhere.

May: Biking in Yeouido (Above right), and Baseball @ Jamsil stadium (Above). May had the best weather by far. I really wished that weather had lasted longer.

For Buddha's Birthday a group of us ventured down to Sokcho. Corwin was shaking off the sand (Right), and I was shooting fireworks from the hip (Below). Read my Buddha's Birthday blog.


 












May: One of my first adventures into the world of coffee (Above). I admire the handywork, and perhaps this was the start of a small love affair. 

 

June: The police guarding a train station after Korea beat Greece 2-1

June: Korea went crazy during the World Cup. Several thousand spectators would show up to watch the games @ City Hall Plaza. The screens were huge, the fans were loud, and sitting. Read my blog series about the World Cup.

June: I'd never seen a proper horse race until I went to Seoul Racehorse park (pictured above). I planned a day around horse races and perogies. When we arrived @ Happidus in Anyang, they were sold out. read about potato mandu.




July: I was supposed to get perogies one afternoon when I was playing beach volleyball. Instead I ended up in hospital, and my doctor snapped this shot of me (Above) moments after my knee was put in place. Read about the hospital.

I finally got perogies two weeks later, and honestly they were amazing (Left). I wouldn't say worth it, because I'd trade the ability to run over food anyday.

with a needle in your knee...

the Good, the Bad and the Shady

the Good
• I’m finally off crutches. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate finding out how accessible this country is for the temporarily handicapped. I’m just happy that I don’t have to accessorize around those unwieldy objects, HA.
• I’m getting acupuncture. I think that’s pretty kick ass, every week I get 10 needles shoved into the muscles surrounding my knee. I feel pretty bad ass, like hellraiser!
• I get to keep my classes. Usually after 6 months SLP switches up the classes. I do not know why, but they have decided to stray away from that path. I get to keep Maria, currently undergoing a name change to Mario (she likes nintendo), Matt my adorable ‘robot’ phonics kid, and my Treasures kids.
• Rocky Horror Show is coming to Seoul. It is the only english musical in Seoul. I’m down for the audience participation, although I don’t think I’ll find a corset that will fit me in this petite sized world.

the Bad
• I can’t straighten my leg. I’ve tried numerous times, and without help my leg will not go straight. It's going to take a lot of work to restore my leg to its previous skinny glory. At the moment I've got a skinny leg, and an ethiopian leg.
• It’s hot. It’s like 35 degrees with 80-90% humidity. I can’t really say anything worse about that, it’s just sticky and gross. Oh wait, yeah I can, my AC Broke last week. It’s fixed now though, I credit my school’s speedy response to the fact that the unit was burning, you could see flames! and those could burn down the unit.

the Shady
• The umbrella is the ultimate fashion accessory in Korea. Koreans use umbrellas in the rain, this makes sense. Koreans use umbrellas in snow (I’ve mentioned this before). Koreans also use umbrellas in the sun. Literally umbrellas are a year round accessory. I have no idea if there are different umbrellas for each type of weather. I feel I need to do more research. (Literally shady)
• I get to lose the class I hate the most. While I’d seriously like to drown these preteens in a kiddie pool, and I’m happy I won’t have to teach them anymore. It’s shady because I’ve brought it to the attention of the school several times that these students are struggling, Huge, and they should not be moved up into the next (harder) level of SLP. So what does the school do? They replace me (YAY) and move them up (BOO).

It's already half over ... or has it only begun halfway through?

I’ve been here for six months and that thought is CRAZY. I can’t quite put it into words, so instead I’ll relate it to a story (I like stories, if you don’t…umm… then why would you be reading my posts?). STORY!! Yesterday morning I was walking out of Gusan subway station there was a man at the top of the stairs, there is very little special about that fact alone. Except that this man was dressed in full green army combat fatigues complete with green and brown face paint. I was a little thrown back; Seoul has very few trees so green camo isn’t a great choice. Then I realized he was looking at me, and holding a fucking assault rifle.

The first thought to run through my head was “I’m not North Korean, I don’t look like any Korean; I really hope this guy realizes I’m not North Korean.” That led me to realize perhaps this could be a good moment to look back; perhaps to see if there was a North Korean platoon using me as a human shield (they could probably hide behind me, they are tiny tiny people). I also realized I probably didn’t want that question answered, what would I do if they were? really? I’d probably be so scared my knee would dislocate itself. I decided to walk past the soldier, my problem is that it takes me a while to walk up stairs. After infinity and beyond, I passed the soldier. I took a quick look back to reassure myself that the North Koreans weren’t hiding behind me. Turns out there was just an aujima, she was probably having the same thoughts run through her head.

Although it was a dramatic story, I feel that it is representative to where I stand. No not literally looking at a soldier with a gun, or with the North Korean Army behind me. But at a crossroads, do I look back already and celebrate what I’ve done in the past six months, or do I motor on forward and look back at some point in the future.

After a little bit of a debate I think that it would be best to stumble on. Although I’ve done a lot of great things in this country, I’ve got a lot of things I’d still like to accomplish. The biggest one that springs to mind is to learn and master Hangeul, the Korean alphabet and writing system. I feel if I can read Korean then I will at least be able to understand what’s going on around me a little more. I’ll be like a 5 year old again! I used to read store signs to my mother when I first learned to read. I think I annoyed her, but I loved know what was going on, even if it was only ‘Tim Hortons’ every 500 feet.

I also feel that going forward is the most optimistic thing to do. Why should I gaze back at this point, what would I do if I ever saw the North Koreans hiding back there? I’d like to think of the rest of the trip with a glass half full state of mind, even though the glass is only exactly half full today.

the surf ... (Jeju pt. V)

(This is the fifth part in the multi part Jeju Island saga.)

Our luck with weather changed on the final full day we would spend on Jeju. Good thing as well, it was beach day! Our hostel owner told us to catch the bus down to the Hyatt hotel on jungmun beach. According to Kevin this was the best beach on the southern coast of Jeju, because all the 5 star hotels were on it. His logic seemed pretty sound, I didn’t argue. We decided to take advantage of these hotels; one of them had laid out umbrellas and beach chairs. We gladly relaxed in style and pretended to be hotel guests. The chairs and prime beach location was more than probably only for registered guests of the hotel. We took advantage of the fact that a Korean employee would probably never confront us to ask us. I noticed some wary looks from a couple of the staff, but they were distracted as they had to run after guests attempting to tackle the water.

   (This sign is a perfect example of Konglish)

There were people surfing about 70 feet offshore, the waves were breaking nicely. Along the shore the waves would break and send water splashing 7-8 feet into the air, they were the most violent waves I’ve ever seen. I stood wishing more than ever that my knee was healthy. I would have had a blast in that water, I would have come out with bruises over my entire body, but it would have been worth it. Instead I sat down in the surf, and I was still able to appreciate the power of the waves. The riptide was incredibly strong; it would spin and slide me down the beach, in only 6 inches of water! When I stood up I had a couple pounds of sand in my board shorts, which was easy for me to dump out. The girls in their bikinis however, looked like they crapped themselves as the sand weighed down their bottoms.

The beach was cordoned off in sections; the swimming section of the beach had the most active lifeguards I’ve ever seen. It seemed every half hour or so they were pulling people out of the waves. It was surreal how many people couldn’t handle the tides. I think the lifeguards got tired of rescuing people and forced people to swim in a very tight area. This section of water looked like a moving yellow fungus, there were inner tubes everywhere, people were almost literally swimming on top of each other. Thankfully we were sitting out of earshot of this calamity; our adopted hotel was a couple hundred feet down the beach. It was almost like it was our own little slice of heaven, it was peaceful. You could sit and only hear the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore.

I pushed my knee way too hard after the beach. I walked along a path that winded its way up and down along the coastline without my crutches. I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could... ... I really couldn’t (I'm not a fictictous train). My knee was killing me, for the first time on the Jeju I felt I had overdone it. The rest of the night wasn’t the most pleasant as I was tired, hot, and hurting.

the best ... (Jeju pt. IV)

(This is the fourth part in the multi part saga that was Jeju Island.)

On the third day we gingerly hopped onto a F1bus taking us to sunrise peak (or sunset peak depending on the time. Haha, no really it’s called sunrise peak). This peak looked like a volcano crater; it was off the north east coast of Jeju. Since we missed sunrise by about 6 hours we decided to head to an island off the coast of sunrise peak.

This island is called Udo, it is somewhat famous because of women divers who grace the coastline. These aren’t Korean bikini clad stripper divers; these are women who dive for seafood. They became famous in the early 1900’s because they weren’t taxed on the seafood they brought up, while their male counterparts were. Originally there were tens of thousands of them, now there is about 4,500. Udo is their hotspot, now well into their 60’s and 70s these women can dive to about 45 feet, and stay under for about 2 minutes. They are pretty remarkable apparently, I wouldn’t know because we didn’t see any while I was there. How anticlimactic was that! I psyched you up with facts, and then… nothing… I wish I could say more, but I can’t, so let’s move on.

Shortly after we arrived on the Udo, well about 100 feet onto the island we found a stall renting scooters. The girls had talked about renting a scooter on Jeju, and since they had no desires to race professionally, competing against the F1buses put that idea on the shelf. The aforementioned shelved idea was recalled when we saw this stall. This island seemed perfect for scooters; there was very little car traffic, and there was a road that winded its way around the coastline. I have to admit my heart dropped, I was instantly jealous. I knew that if I rented a scooter I would somehow forget about my knee, realize too late that its way too weak, and bam whack whatever, I’d be on my ass with another blown knee.

Imagine my joy though when I saw the ATV’s sitting next to the scooters. There was NO way that I could plant my leg if I needed to bail. Well I mean there was a way, but if I had to bail off an ATV I would be doing something seriously stupid. The ATV was double the price of the scooters (\40,000 compared to \20,000 for two hours), but ATV’s required no balance to ride. I didn’t care about the increased price and I threw down my money with a smile on my face. The island itself was gorgeous, and was easily the highlight of the trip. The two hour rental was more than enough time to scoot around the island

At this point of the trip I was quite proud of myself, I’d been able to partake in every activity. The journey up to sunrise peak was too much for me though. I stood at the base of the peak knowing it would be pushing me WAY too hard. I had to let the girls go up alone. I was very jealous of the girls I wanted to go to the top of the peak badly. Instead I hid on the beach below the peak.

I was walking along a decrepit part of the beach (it was right below the peak, no tourist pictures could really see this, my camera is also broken so i couldn't take any pictures of it, haha), it looked grimy and had garbage randomly littered around, kind of like a back alley. Down this back alley beach I found some tunnels. In front of one of these tunnels there stood a nice shiny plaque, it seemed very out of place. I was wondering if this was the spot of some famous murder or something. I mean isn’t that what happens in back alleys?

I was partially right, according to the plaque these tunnels were built by the Japanese during WWII. The Japanese would store suicide boats in them, and during high tide would have the ability to launch them should the allies every corner them on this island (they were almost the site of a murder, or act of war, whatever you want to call it). The Japanese also built a labyrinth of caves underneath sunrise peak. I assume this is where the Japanese played cool war games like… um… lasertag! I wanted to explore the tunnels, but one was being occupied by a squatter, dead serious! A hobo lived on back alley beach, underneath sunrise peak. He had a bed made up of cardboard, a random assortment of recyclables, some empty food wrappers, and a little fire pit. I’m curious if snorkeling here would be similar to dumpster diving?

the mess ... (Jeju pt III)

(This is the third part in the multi part saga that was Jeju Island.)

There is a small problem with traveling in Korea in July. July is the month with the highest average rainfall in the year. Basically it's rainy season. My second morning I was reminded of this. While rain makes a calming noise to sleep to, when you want to get out and about, it’s not the best thing to hear. Thankfully we were planning on being underground for the morning. Jeju is home to one of the world’s longest lava tubes. I wasn’t originally going to attempt these tubes with crutches, yet we met some tourists the night before who the caves should be manageable with crutches, YAY. The caves were on the other side of the island, and the F1 bus driver still took an hour and a half to get to the tube, I really wished it was a smaller island.

At the tubes there was an awesome sign, ‘no high heels’. Korean women wear heels everywhere, in every condition known to man. You might find it shocking there had to be a sign, but I bet you that Korean women have attempted to walk on lava flows in 6 inch heels. Thankfully there wasn’t a sign stating no crutches, although I was secretly hoping for an elevator to take me down. The stairs were kind of steep, although not unmanageable. The stairs did offer something unique, every step you went deeper into the cave the cooler it became. I've never felt such drastic temperature changes like that before. It went from high twenties to low teens within twenty feet.

The cave was remarkable, words can’t fully describe it. Walking down this 1km stretch was unbelievable, the walls and floor were caked in lava. There were lava lines on the walls like tree rings showing how the lava levels changed as the volcano started to run out of liquid rock. The ceiling was melted in some places, it looked like plaster dripping down towards the ground. I had little issues navigating the cave with crutches, anytime I encountered uneven ground I shot across them like a spider monkey. I spent most of my time in the cave staring at the floor, trying to find adequate places to put my crutches. I felt like my mother when she tries to take pictures, except i was actually staring at the floor and not accidentally taking pictures of the ground.  This leads me to my biggest problem with the cave, it was very poorly lit. I realize that they want to keep an certain atmosphere in the cave, but it was fucking dark, and next to near impossible to take a great picture. It was one of those things that you have to ‘remember’ instead of photograph. I hate doing things the old fashioned way.

After we finished with the cave we headed 500m down the road to a maze. I would have loved have attempted the maze. While we were walking to it the sky opened up. It was pouring and I didn’t have an umbrella. I always get into a strange mood when it rains. I love getting rained on, it’s fun, it’s exciting, but if I’m cold because I’ve been rained on I get all moody. I know exactly where this feeling comes from, and it comes from my parent yelling at me, 'to get out of the rain before i caught a cold’. I then link it to this fear of catching pneumonia. Pneumonia and I don’t play nice together, the whole i don't have a spleen thing. SO I have these little freak outs, no matter how much I try to convince myself I’ll be fine. I still have these nagging thoughts. I think this was parenting done too efficiently, you want your children to remember what you tell them, not freak out when it happens, haha oh well.

Waking up the next morning was amazing, who would have thought sleeping on the floor could be so awesome. I really felt rested, I’d walked a lot the previous day and my knee barely hurt. I mean it likes to constantly nag me to remind me it’s there, but it’s no different from a relative or cut on the inside of your mouth.

the tug ... (Jeju pt II)

(This is the second part in the multi part saga that was Jeju Island.)

Security at the airport was shockingly easy to get through. I was able to walk through with my shiny weapons of above average Korean size (cruthches), without issue. Security never even checked my bag; I had a giant thawing gel icepack buried between clothes. Not to mention the full bottle of water strapped to the side. I love Korea! The airport also sold beer by the can, tall can, 1 litre bottle, and 1.5 litre mini pitcher. ALL at the same prices found anywhere in the city. Hmm, I’ll miss Korea when I’m gone.

The flight was short; the landing was speedy and bouncy. The first destination on Jeju was the historic theme park built by two university students, LOVELAND. Loveland is a sex theme park, there are statues of people fucking, there are giant penis’ everywhere, and even the door handles to the bathrooms were glorified boobs and cocks. The signs were kinky, the fountain was… well cuming… The park was essentially a photo op, and every adult in the park had a childish grin. Much like actual children when they see a statue of Mickey Mouse, and no, before the question is asked, there was not a statue of Mickey giving it to Minnie.

My knee wasn’t holding up that great after the plane and frolic through Loveland. It was aching and swollen. I knew then that my knee wasn’t on vacation as well, it brought all of it’s muscle torn drama with it.


Transportation on the island was about as good as it gets. The island was a lot larger than any of us had anticipated. Yet it was still relatively easy to get around. The whole island was tied together through a simple network of buses. The buses ran, sped, and slammed the brakes rather frequently. The bus drivers were all attempting to audition for the Korean Gran Prix. F1 cars aren’t required to pick up passengers, and buses are. This is something a couple of the daydreaming drivers forgot when they slammed on the brakes 15 feet past a bus stop.




We stayed in a cheap hostel in a city called Seogwipo. The hostel was nice, the AC in my room didn’t work, thus making the fan even more of a lifesaver. Speaking of saving lives, or safety features, the fan was equipped with a 2 hour timer. The hostel was doing its part to save people from the fan chopping up the oxygen molecules in the middle of the night (if that confuses you, read my fan death post).

the rub ... (Jeju pt. I)

(This is the first part in the multi part saga that was Jeju Island. I have NO idea why my posts have become these long drawn out affairs. Yet there is so much to tell and I don’t want to scare you with a giant post, so multipart saga it must be. Hey if gay sparkling vampires can do it, I feel I can copy)

“Make sure you take it easy” my chiropractor warned me, I just smiled and nodded as I left his office. I had just told him that I was going to Jeju Island for a week. I am blessed with having two weeks of vacation while working here in Korea. They are split up into two week long segments, one in July, and the other in December.

It was decided that we (we is: Corwin, Callie, Susan, Sparta and I) would be going to Jeju after a couple failed attempts at planning a bike excursion through the countryside of Korea. For those of you who are unaware what or where Jeju is, just click. If you don’t want to read too much, here’s an abridged version. Jeju is an island off the southern tip of Korean peninsula. I’ve been told it’s like Hawaii, but I’ve never been to Hawaii SO! The most interesting thing about Jeju Island is that it is an autonomous province. That is interesting because that is exactly what Quebec wants to become in Canada. Autonomous regions benefit from having the same military, same currency, (same equalization payments, if you are Quebec), just different legislative powers. I wondered if I’d be getting off the plane to whiney people in berets (horrible stereotype, sorry French Canadians).

So you’ve got the where, you’ve got the when, and I really shouldn’t have to explain why my chiropractor warned me to take it easy. The biggest attractions on the island all entail a lot of walking, and some hiking capabilities. No surprise my knee puts me on the short bus. I can’t actually walk up stairs properly, I walk up only using my right leg, I drag my left leg up behind me.

I was worried about the trip, I’d had some tough days in the weeks before; I’d had a semi breakdown caused by frustration a week prior to my departure. I’d been looking forward to going to Mudfest (people covered in mud, mud wrestling, and mud slides) and I had to cancel out. It was the week after I epically failed at volleyball, and I’d pushed my leg too hard my first week back at work. I thought and acted like I was 14 again and my knee disagreed with that sentiment whole heartedly, I was left sitting around my apartment as my friends were coated in mud.

I knew most of the island trip was earmarked for hiking and heavy foot traffic. This is what worried me, I was in on the planning, I wanted to do it, and knew it was a bad idea. I was aware that the island had beaches, and I’d most likely spend my time there as my friends hiked. It was a really tough position I’d be in, my mind wanted to hike but my body wouldn’t let me. I’m sure most people reading are like ‘shut up, I’d love to be on a beach’. Yet I’m different in that regards I guess. I wanted it all, and my doctors warning was a clear reminder that my knee can only take so much.

injured albino elephant...

I’m not the most graceful person when I’m healthy, I’m rather lanky and I have no idea where to put my arms (They sometimes move floatingly as I meander around). Now that I’m injured I’ve become something completely different, and unfortunately my injury has not made my movements elegant. I’ve been reduced to being on crutches since my accident, and my movements have been likened to a giant bird sputtering as it tries to unfold its wings.

I’ve been on crutches once before in my life. In the weeks following my first dislocated knee I navigated the halls of Meadowbrook Middle School with a wooden pair. I don’t really remember this experience, it was probably as traumatizing as it sounds. My parents reminded me about the experience and all that comes back to mind are random memories of falling.

The crutches I’ve been retrofitted with in Korea are a little larger. They’re the height of the average Korean! As if the Korean’s weren’t scared of me before, now I’ve got large stainless steel rods descending past my arms. These large extensions have garnered me some new looks. I am used to the ‘OMG weiguk-zilla’ look (it’s similar to the deer in the headlights look coupled with fascination and fear). This new look is one of sympathy, I still achieve wide eyes, but there is something else, perhaps the gleam of a tear. I feel like an injured albino elephant, instead of just a regular elephant.

This look seems to be most prevalent in ajuma’s (older married Korean women). These women are almost going out of their way to help me, they hold doors for me, they step aside as I board trains. My existence has rarely, if ever, been acknowledged by them in the 5 months I’ve been here; that is unless they are trying to sell me tangerines. I’ve even had ajumas shield my leg from a drunk ajashi (older married Korean man) stumbling around on the trains, a couple even yelled at the guy in Korean!

I’ve been quite amazed at the reception I’ve received with my injured leg. It’s an entirely new adventure, although not one I intended. The simple act of walking is a pain in the ass, simple distances take longer, and it’s like 30 degrees at the moment. I may as well wear a bathing suit I'm always soaked halfway to any destination. Stairs leading down to the subway have become chapters instead of mere paragraphs that make up my day. Okay less ranting…

My kids have also taken notice. When I walk into one of my classes two girls welcome me with ‘teachah’ and teary eyes, like my injury has somehow caused them physical pain. My older kids offer their assistance, and instead of graciously giving me a headache they move tables so I can sit down. The kids are fascinated at the wheelchair I’ve rented; they poke and prod it whenever they get the chance.

I’ve become pretty decent on crutches, and I have only really used them for two weeks. I have been able to scale my way through lava tubes on Jeju Island (Holiday post coming soon). I’ve been able to experience life in Korea as a not fully abled person. Although I hope it’s only for a short while, I’m tired of having to lug crutches around. I’m sick of looking at the muscles on my emaciated leg. I’m ready to start building back the muscle and walking like the lanky weiguk-zilla I am.

brace yourself... (pt III)

I’m not exactly sure why there always seemed to be a large gap in time between my doctor’s visits. It didn’t appear to me that it was that busy in the emergency room. I didn’t see many doctors rushing to anyone around me. It was a really chilled atmosphere.

When my doctor finally emerged, he arrived with another ultimatum. He proclaimed that he had arranged the help of an orthopedic surgeon to come put my knee back in place. The orthopedic surgeon however, came with strings attatched. According to my doctor he would not touch my knee unless an x-ray was performed. My doctor went on to say that every person in the emergency room had to have x-rays done before any treatment. I really question this, what if I cut myself and needed stitches? Would they x-ray that? what would you look for, the knife? Yet my doctor remained steadfast that ALL patients were required to have an x-ray.

After another set of painkillers I agreed to the x-ray. I did however get the doctor to agree to some of my terms; He agreed not to allow the x-ray tech to touch my leg. They would instead move the x-ray machine to achieve the desired side angles (why couldn't they have done this from the start?). I returned to the x-ray waiting line, I can remember it this time.

My little posse followed me, like they did my entire stay at the hospital. I was so thankful to have them around. I was not really happy that i'd been in the hospital for three hours, but hey, I had a great group of people with me. They were able to keep me calm, and I could vent my frustrations with them. I felt like I was a textbook, they agreed. They would stand by and watch as a myriad of doctors would walk up to me grab my leg, and touch my floating kneecap. I would cringe and growl at the curious doctors like a rabid animal. They would stare down the doctor as i would curse up a storm. It seemed like the doctors didn’t get it. If you touch my knee, i'm going to scream and yell, it was simple. My friends stood by powerlessly as these doctors always reached for my knee. One doctor even took photos of it. It's not like i could move away, i just tried to make my kneecap smile, while my friends glared at the doctor.

My journey to see the orthopedic surgeon was something out of the wizard of oz. They wheeled me into this back room filled with people in green scrubs. I swear the room even had a green tinge to it (I was also high on several shots of pain medication and that half syringe full of morphine, so i could have been imagining things). I entered the green room with only my translator friend, my entourage was asked to remain outside as they closed the door behind me.

I felt really happy and confident that my journey would be over with this doctor. I mean he was a guy who performed knee operations! However, I blindly put my faith in this doctor, much like Dorothy, the lion, the scarecrow, and the tinman did with the wizard. This 'specialized' doctor didn't fare much better than the wizard. The second (overall) attempt to put my knee back in ended as the other did, I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed in my life. I was screaming at him to stop, I was pleading for the endevour to be over. After the attempt failed, I was pleading with the doctors to put me under, to knock me out, I couldn’t handle it anymore, I didn’t care how they got the knee back in. I just did not want to be awake for the process.

The doctors would not listen to me, they didn't give in. They instead came up with an alternative. They would get a towel and put it over my eyes, I didn't really like the plan. I wasn't watching them anyway, and it was not the reason I wanted to be knocked out. I was given another shot of painkillers before they started on the third attempt. Seconds before the doctors moved into position, a nurse stuck a rolled up towel in my mouth. I have NO idea why they she did this, I mean I know it was to bite down on, but seriously? I was confused. I didn't have long to think before they started again. This attempt would eventually be successful. I felt relief as the knee slide along its track and back into place. Euphoria rushed over my body and I collapsed on the bed in complete exhaustion. (the photographer doctor kept the camera clicking)

I don't remember much about the hospital after this. I know that my school director wouldn't come and pick me up, and I was told to take a cab home. I've been told that i had another round of x-rays. I remember the makeshift leg immobilizer I was put into. BUT what I remember the most is that the doctors told me NOTHING. They said don't move my knee for a week, don't shower, don't touch their contraption, and goodbye! The lack of pain really allowed the pain killers to knock me out, and not give a shit.

All in all i was in the hospital for 5 hours.

There is some good news that has sprung from this unfortunate event. I have tested the medical system, a large reason for this adventure was to try new things in Asia. I love seeing how things are done differently. I swear i'm trying to write that with a smile on my face...

brace yourself... (pt II)

As the ambulance pulled up to the hospital I was pulling up my shirt to tell my new Korean friend/translator that he had to explain to the hospital that I was missing a spleen and that i had a blood condition. These are the things that kept my mind off of my locationally challenged body part.

Once in the hospital I was whisked down a hallway and onto a hospital bed. Well they didn’t get me right onto the hospital bed. They got me half on, and rested me agaist the bar on the edge of the bed. I made sure I they were aware of this. Once on the bed I realized that the bed was in the middle of a hallway, and that I was surrounded by other patients. I was more or less on display. There were injuries of all types on display in the hallway, I have no idea how I rated amongst the other zoo animals, but I was making noise which always attracts a crowd.

As I was laying in the hallway immobilized a patient came screaming into the hallway. She was hysterical, she was flailing around in her wheelchair attempting to escape. I remember asking my friends to guard my bed. I swore if that lady hit my bed, and made me move and hurt I would rip her arms off, i have no idea how i would achieve this; i just knew i would attempt it. Gladly she kept her hysterics to an enclosed area before the orderlies were able to scoot her into an elevator.

I got my first visit from a doctor in this hallway, I have no idea how long I waited to get this visit, but it was the start of things to come. The doctor approached and saw my leg wrapped in padded foam and asked me where it hurt. I blatently said, "my knee is out, I think my leg hurts". He vanished, I don’t think he returned. I continued to wait. One thing was decided however, i would not be sent into the room the crazy lady came screaming out of. I think this was a smart idea, I don’t know what kind of medicine was practiced in the screaming room.

I was SO relieved when i was finally assigned a doctor, i was moved into a stall and waited. I was anxiously waiting for my knee to be put back in. The process back home had been flawless, painkillers then relief! However, There is a danger when comparing things to the way they are done back home, and I’ve been adamant in my desire to find how things are done differently around the world. I was quite honestly given a taste of my own medicine. Aparently health care systems aren't really all that universal.

My new doctor (who had the same glasses as me, I might add) again asked me where it hurt. Again I thought it was pretty obvious, and gave him the smart ass answer. He then proceeded to touch my toes. He asked me if I could feel my toes, and if so what toe was he touching. I couldn’t believe it. I was sitting with a dislocated knee, and he wanted to play 'this little piggy'. I answered most of his questions incorrectly, I was more or less guessing what toe he was touching, I wasn’t that worried about having a broken back. (I have since learned that nerve damage to the toes can occur through a dislocated knees, I just figure that’s something they would attempt to figure out after the knee is back in).

After I correctly identified that the last little piggy went wee wee wee (all the way home), I wanted to get down business. So I asked the doctor if had ever dealt with a dislocated knee before, he said , "no". I then asked him if he knew the procedure to put a knee back in place, another "no" to which I replied "you’ve got to be kidding me! well go fucking google it! Quickly!" I was asked to calm down and to watch my language. I apologized sincerely, I was really sorry, but I couldn’t believe it. (also in a hospital full of koreans who could understand me anyways)

His remedy for the situation was pain medicine and a half hour wait till I saw him again. When he did return he told me that he would like to x-ray the knee, with the kneecap out. I told him that was stupid, insane, and I wanted the kneecap to return to its home. He said he refused to put the knee back in until he could see through x-ray that it was in fact my kneecap that was out, (maybe the guy thought my leg was broken, I don’t know). He gave me morphine for this, I agreed simply for the pain relief.

I was speedily wheeled away done some hall to radiology. I was given a number to wait in line. I love how Koreans love the number thing. ‘now serving ___’ it creates equality and fairness for everyone. Anywho, my number was called quickly, (actually I have no recollection of this I was WAY to doped up on morphine). I got into the x-ray room, and they wanted to take off the splint I was in (I do remember this!), I told them no fucking way. They should take the x-ray with my knee as is, in the condition it was in. They didn’t like it. Apparently my doctor wanted a photo shoot with my knee. He wanted it to pose in different positions, some profile shots, you know some great smut material. Basically he wanted me to move me knee, to twist it, I cousn't have disagreed more. I would not allow the x-ray tech to touch my leg, I yelled loudly in English, my translator spoke softly in Korean. I felt bad for the x-ray tech I was yelling at him when he was just following orders. I made sure to apologize before i was sent out of radiology. I was ushered back down the hallway to my ER stall.

A half hour after i returned to the ER, the doctor arrived to say he wasn't happy i didn't have an x-ray. I informed him that I wasn’t a fucking textbook, and that I would love my knee back where it belongs. I felt that the more I told him where I wanted the knee, the more he would understand how badly I wanted it there, i hoped he would eventually get what i wanted. I continued to apologize for anything and everything I said, i just wanted relief.

I don’t actually remember the first attempt to put the knee back in place. It barely registers in my mind. My doctor tried to push the knee back in, in the position I was in. He walked away after I screamed repeatedly for him to stop. One of my friends asked him what was next? What would he do?

He replied ‘well we tried once, it didn’t work. We will try again, and if that doesn’t work we will call more doctors”

brace yourself... (pt I)

Saturday was supposed to be a dream day. Volleyball and a return to anyang for perogies. Well I was only able to complete one of those tasks and, yet again I was refrained from having perogies. I think that something is seriously wrong with me and those perogies, whenever i do get to eat those bastards they better be the best damn potato mandu (previous blog post reference) I've ever had.

Anywho, volleyball was supposed to start around 1:30. Several locational issues arose on the way there which prevented the start, and pushed back the end time.. wow that's just not needed, i should be less wordy.. SO we simply got lost on our way there.. It was hot, sticky, and Callie kept asking Koreans which direction the Han river was, they all repliede with blank expressions. I find it funny, it's not like Callie mispronounced anything, she said it perfectly. It must just shock them that weiguks can speak some Korean.

Everything went well. The day was really good. I suck at volleyball, but my height and lankyness help to make up for what I lack in actual skill. If I was short and stubby I wouldn’t be allowed on the court. At around 5pm, I raced to get the ball to the other side of the net, I successfully volleyed it. I gazed at my shot like a piece of art while i was falling down in the sand. My left knee got caught in the guide wire holding up the net post. My gaze was rudely interupted as my body quickly jerked to the left, with my foot planted firmly the other direction. The torque was enough to dislodge my knee, I heard a loud pop, and felt my leg go numb.

I instantly recognized this pain. I’d experienced it twice before. Lets flash back 11 years shall we, to  the game I was named captain of my hockey team, a game in Drumheller, Alberta. Sometime during one of the three periods, probably the first or third considering where the bench was, and that i was close the zamboni doors (wait, you don't care abou that level of detail). Lets use less then. There was a short pushing match in my zone, I slipped and hit the ice on the my stomach, and I couldn’t get up. Despite  all my efforts I could not get up, and my leg was screaming in pain. I slammed my stick on the ice to alarm my goalie, Calvin, that I was in trouble. I remember the assistant coach, Kevin Wilson, reaching to feel my left knee. I will never forget the words he told the coach and my father, ‘yep, its definitely out’ all I could think about was what? What the fuck is out? I didn’t know anything could be out on a leg.

I was rushed out of the arena through the tacky dinosaur mouth painted on the side of the building. Within minutes of being in the hospital, the doctor had given me pain meds, and  in one swift movement he flipped me onto my back and slid my knee into position. It was probably a thing of beauty to watch if you were a medical professional, I sreamed the whole time. I was sent home with a full leg brace. I would call that leg brace my friend for what I remember to be an eternity. I was given the elevator key at school though. I was cool while i had that key, i was not niave though. I was well aware my time would only last as long as my leg remained immobile. It took two months of rehab before I played another game. And one year later I would return to an emergency room.

This time I was truly playing in the boonies. I was playing in Standard Alberta, about an hour from everywhere. The town was big enough for a grain silo, a corner store and a hockey rink. I had just made a play up ice with the puck and took a sharp turn to my left when my leg gave out. I remembered the feeling. It was almost exactly one year to the day that I felt it last. I was smarter this time. I made sure I fell on my back. It took an hour and a half for the ambulance to arrive. I squirmed in pain on the floor of a vacant dressing room. I studied the walls and ceiling of that room for so long that I can remember the layout and and colour scheme. Once I arrived in the hospital I was quickly visited by the docter.

He made quick work of my equipment, he cut up another set of laces, and another sock. He quickly had my knee brace off (the one that was supposed to stop my knee from going out in the first place), and with a quick shot of pain medication. My knee was propelled back into position. I have been told that I requested nothing more than JD to help take away the pain. I’d like to believe I’ve been sarcastic my whole life.

My rehab for my second blown knee had taken FAR less time. I was on the ice within two weeks and playing again within three. I was given a referral to an alternative medicine clinic in Calgary. The doctors name was Dr. Doug Battershill, an ex CFL (Canadian Football) player. He believed that diet and mobility was the way to combat this injury, and I believe him. He was extreme, yet it worked. My knee was extremely strong for 10 years.

I’d like to think that my knee was still strong on Saturday and that the torque I threw on it would have taken even a healthy knee out.

These memories quickly flooded back into my mind as I lay sprawled out with a mouthful of sand last Saturday. I was desperately trying to push the kneecap back into place before my friends advised me the ambulance was on its way. I sat back and tried to relax. The Ambulance ride was unbearable, I screamed almost the entire way, every ten seconds or so the ambulance would lurch a different direction after hitting a bump. All I could think about was that the roads in this country are shit. My uncle could make a killing selling them the required material to correct them. To end part I on a good note, for the first time EVER I was able to hear the ambulance siren. Sadly it was drowned out with screams every couple of seconds.