you laren smeothnig new ervey day

From my friend Marcy:

"Aoccdrnig to rscheearch dnoe at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht
oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a total mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe."

Interesting.

confucius might have been confused, buddha might have blown a fuse

Korea is, as the locals are fond of reminding you, a Confucian society. This has many benefits, including virtually zero petty crime (anybody who's seen my all-new pirate-style face this year will appreciate what that means to me), the crumblies get looked after and not locked away in homes, and everyone pretty much knows where they stand, all the time - someone I know got an umbrella beating for asking an old guy on the subway for the time; you're not supposed to disturb the elderly apparently. So much so, in fact, that I've noticed you never see rules posted anywhere: not even no-smoking signs, as the Hive Mind dictates the rules, which everyone knows instinctively, just like the fashions (right now the must-have accessory for kids is "Heelies"; trainers with wheels on the heels, which makes for some crippling pile-ups at the bottom of the stairs at lunchtime).

The Confucian ideal, however, also means a glass ceiling for women at about the height of a bulgogi table (see below), the total abolition of attitude, and national denial of the existence - in Korea, at least - of drugs, prostitution, homosexuality, any connection with the Japanese, Chinese or North Koreans. All of which can be bought in Itaewon on a Saturday night at a reasonable price, by the way. Any tendency towards deviant behaviour is institutionally smothered by the cast-iron social hierarchy, as well as calming music on the subway, jolly little cartoon characters on official documents and notices, the national habit of replying "yes" to everything and never making a direct complaint, and a host of other ingenious little touches to soothe any painful confusion about one's place in society and make sure that cry of rebellion never escapes the children's lips. However, once you start looking for them, the signs of repressed violence are ubiquitous. The two TV channels devoted entirely to action movies. The random, sporadic acts of violence committed by Korean men, young and old, after a glass of soju or six. The tension between North and South, which you could cut with a knife and serve in a sandwich at the DMZ. By far the most intriguing though are the "test your strength" machines littering the streets. There are thousands of these things - a realistic human torso on a stick, just waiting to take your itching fist in the face as you're on your way back from work. And they are everywhere - it doesn't take a psychoanalyst to realise that they have to take the punches so that someone else doesn't. Of course, it's preferable to the free-for-all violence we get at home, but anyone who has read "A Clockwork Orange" will know about the issues at stake.

On an entirely different subject, Seoul is the home of bad judgment when it comes to naming businesses. Here are a few of the local gems, all within five minutes walk of my house: "Donky Chicken", "Hair Face", "The Hye Min Hospital", "Cafe With Toy Dog"(?), "Les Bo Bank", and my favourite, "Kolon Sport".

Gobbler: Needless to say, those lovely larvae are also a hit with the kids, and stalls selling coccoon candy spring up around schools. Wrong. Talking of 'candy', one of my friends asked an 8-year-old student yesterday about her favourite kind of candy. The girl raises her eyebrows, smirks, and says, "eye candy!". OK, here's how to add a link: click on the "Template" tab, scroll down to near the bottom, and find the line which says, on your blog, "Technically Rachel", copy the whole line, paste it underneath and change the text. All done, Bob's your uncle etc.

one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor

Had an insane birthday party last night, involving far too much beer and tequila, probably inappropriate levels of fraternisation with colleagues, an outrageous gay bloke in a fluffy pink T-shirt with his "penis dance", breakdancing hash house harriers, a scary woman from LA called Tracy who was at least 35, making a profit by drinking beer, Benny and the Jets, fried egg sandwiches, and rugby tackles in a sandpit at 6am. I will divulge the details to interested parties so long as they don't have any connection at all to anybody I saw or spoke to between the hours of 8pm and 7am last night. Every night out in Seoul, you understand, is a total zoo.

Life without a mobile here is impossible, so I'm going to have some fun this week tracking one down. The phones here are crazy, they all have big colour screens, flashing lights all over them and funny polyphonic ringtones; my friend Marcy's plays a sort of disco version of the Chicken Dance, which ekes out a chuckle even on the darkest of days, and others have a recordable ringtone function, which has endless amusement potential - the old farting phone trick, ho ho ho. In fact, all the electronics here are weird. My air con plays little tunes when you turn it on and off, things are always beeping, flashing, or babbling at you in Korean, including lampposts and escalators. At the toilets in Technomart (our local shopping centre; ten huge floors of consumer goodness) you don't have to do anything: the lights turn on, calming music plays, the toilet flushes itself, the taps, soap and driers are all automatic - it's a fully automated defecatory experience. On the subject of electronics, I'm going to ask my boss for an advance to buy a computer with broadband (which is about seven pounds fifty a month and they chuck in the installation and modem for free!) so I won't have to go to PC-bangs anymore. These places are interesting; you pay a quid/W2000 and get two hours; and you basically have a top-notch computer with a leather office chair and can use it for whatever you want. Generally that means games - I'm the only one in here not playing Starcraft (the Korean national sport) or some other strategy game - so it's very noisy, and most people are smoking. It's like a sort of isolationist pub, with lots of explosion noises and people staring at screens. Could be a scene from Blade Runner.

One aspect of Korea I'm enjoying very much is the food. You can eat your fill for about W5000 in many places, and you get some good stuff - bulgogi is very popular, and is strips of marinated beef which you cook at the (shin-high) table. It's good eating, and quite a nice social experience, what with the DIY barbecue and the low tables - you take your shoes off at the door and sort of kneel sideways on a cushion. You always get free refills of the side dishes, so you can eat as much kimchi as you can take. Kimchi, by the way is cabbage which has been left to ferment in a pot with chilli and garlic, and is eaten cold. Kids love it. I hated it at first, but once you get used to the mouldy cabbage aspect of it, it's pretty tasty. The school feed us, too, thus saving more money, and it's good to help yourself to rice, kimchi, vegetables and meat rather than eating some cholesterol pie you found at 7-11. At any time of day or night you can grab a chicken kebab or a pot of kimchi at a roadside stall, good for those beer munchies. One thing I wouldn't recommend is the boiled silkworm larvae. You think it can't taste as bad as it smells, but you bite into it and it's just a big leathery bug that squirts putrid custard stuff into your mouth. I was duped into eating one last week.

Well, that's it for now. Hope you're all well, friends and family, stay in touch... more later.

in the beginning...

Welcome to my humble blog. I seem to end up telling the same stories to a bunch of different people, so I thought it would be easier just to put down all my memories in one place. Expect sporadic updates, but bear in mind I am very lazy so if I don't write as often as I should, don't take it personal like.