When John Candy Meets Chevy Chase

I told my sister and her bf that I’d started a movie theme with my vacation blogs, given the Lost in Translation and Perfect references in the previous two posts, so they’ve been asking me what movies describe my other experiences so far. I’ve been thinking for a while on the movie that’s most apt to describe Thanksgiving dinner, and the best I can come up with is a cross between The Great Outdoors with John Candy and any National Lampoon holiday/vacation movie.

This was my introduction not only to attempts to cater to foreigners living in Korea, but to the English-teaching ex-pat experience. I met people from South Africa, Canada and all parts of America. I learned about the quirky routines people established here to make Korea feel less foreign and more like home, since these people are living and working here – not just having an extended vacation jaunt.

Jen, Jarod, and I were three of the 10 or so English-speaking people in our group that booked a traditional Thanksgiving dinner at this bar that caters to foreigners; I think our group was one of 4 that were there that night. Since our group was so large, we merited two home-cooked turkeys, which were delivered in their tin foil roasting pans, all wrapped in foil. They were accompanied by a few paper plates that held the plastic utensils and butter knives, as well as a very large bowl full of lettuce…which we were told we needed to eat immediately as our pre-dinner salad so that bowl could be used for the mashed potatoes. Dinner wouldn’t be complete without the obligatory cranberry sauce, which we received – can-rings and all! – as well as dinner rolls, stuffing, gravy and the aforementioned mashed potatoes. At each end of the table, the guys carved the two birds using the butter knives we received, and we all dug in like it was the Last Supper. We capped our meal with apple and pumpkin pie, both of which were carefully divvied up for everyone to enjoy. And all of this food was provided by the beanie-wearing waiter/bartender who may or may not have owned or worked at the bar, because I really don’t understand Korean laws regarding foreigners working in the country and/or owning businesses in the country.

In all, it was a really nice way to spend Day 3 in Korea, especially after we made it back to the apartment without incident in the taxi, despite the taxi driver nearly running over a pedestrian because of his indecision over whether to stop at an intersection (the taxi driver, not the pedestrian).

Paging John Travolta?

I joined the gym that my sister and her boyfriend to, which happens to be less than a block away from where they live. Talk about convenient! Anyway, I went this morning, but only after making myself wait for the sun to rise, since I had woken up at 6:00 a.m. because of this whole jet-lag thing. But I digress…

This gym is like the one in Rocky: Some treadmills, some bike machines, but the majority of the place is taken up by free weights and big empty rooms that apparently are used for aerobics classes. I hop on a treadmill, and then realize everything is measured in metric units, so instead of plugging in my preferred mph speed, I set it to some random km/h and try to work out the calculation as I’m running. I figured that was sufficient to keep my mind somewhat occupied, when I wasn’t watching the construction pit just outside the window. It was either that or start singing along to “Drop It Like It’s Hot.” Except I don’t know the Korean version, and that’s what’s blasting across the speakers, except for the refrain. It was as weird hearing that weird version as it was yesterday in the department store hearing the Korean-English version of “It’s Raining Men.”

So as I continue my workout, I realize there’s an alarming number of Korean women coming to the gym wearing shiny leotards and leg warmers. Hmmm, odd. Then I notice that before starting their workouts, they all strapped themselves into an old-school fat-jiggler machine. Not kidding. The penultimate was the older woman – say, early 50s – who came in with her shiny leotard, puffy white gym shorts, hot-pink t-shirt, turquoise-blue rope headband, and neon green leg warmers. Between the Abba’s greatest hits album that’s now booming out over the sound system and this get-up, the only thing missing is John Travolta from that ’70s film “Perfect.” Totally surreal.

Might Need to Retake Geography Class

Because I opted for a courtesy dinner coupon from United and didn’t have any yen to pay for an overpriced hotel breakfast, I start the day with the second of three peanut-butter Balance bars I had packed. I figured once I made it through security and immigration at the airport, I could pick up a coffee or something in the terminal before boarding my “delayed” flight. Like manna from heaven, the illuminated forest green, black and white Starbucks logo beckoned down the hallway, so I thought I would turn to the corporate-but-so-welcome-to-see coffee chain for my morning fix. As I approached the Starbucks, it struck me that this international airport was unusually silent, as in could-hear-a-pin-drop silent, and the duty-free stores lining the walkway weren’t open. Hmmm, does not bode well for a pre-flight, overpriced latte. And as I reached the Starbucks counter, my hopes were fully dashed when I learned that the location didn’t open until 7:30 – after we needed to board the plane. Thwarted! *sigh*

The “delayed” flight took off as re-scheduled at 8:00 with hardly anyone on board. We received the welcome news that since the flight was so sparsely filled, we could sit anywhere we wanted to have additional space and not be seated virtually on top of each other…except you had to stay in the class you purchased. So no free upgrades to the economy, business, or first class sections, which remained tantalizingly empty the duration of the flight. Now if I were running an airline, I’d tell my flight crews that in that situation, it’s completely appropriate to let people move on up to first class – that it should be considered free advertising for the higher-paying class of seats. Let the economy-paying people like me get a taste of what it’s like to be spoiled by fully-reclining chairs and at-your-beck-and-call premium wine lists and such, and maybe the economy-paying people will shell out the extra cash on future trips. Alas, I’m not running an airline, so this fly-in-first-class-as-a-marketing-ploy option didn’t pan out.

On the up side, I had a brilliant view of Mt. Fuji, the internationally recognized symbol of Japan. I could see it in the distance as we were taxiing on the jetway (it looked kinda like this, but further away), but I got a stellar view (like this) as we fly adjacent to it on our way west. As we flew past and I looked out my window, I acknowledged that had my flight not been “delayed” overnight, I would have missed that amazing sight because I would have been flying at night. (By the way, I apparently failed geography, because I thought that image was Mt. Kilimanjaro, until my sister oh-so-kindly – ok, there was a bit of snark involved – told me Mt. Kilimanjaro is in Africa; me being me, I had to Google it to see who was right.)

Day 1: I Am Bill Murray

I feel like Bill Murray in Lost in Translation: I just muted the TV in my hotel room because there’s something deeply jarring about watching the New York Jets take on the Tennessee Titans and having the play-by-play broadcast in what I can only presume is Japanese. I wouldn’t know for sure because I can neither speak nor understand the language. And so concludes Day 1 of my five-week vacation in South Korea. Only I’m not in South Korea. I’m in Tokyo…or Narita, which may or may not be a district in or a suburb of Tokyo because I don’t have a map.

After the 10- to 13-hour flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo, where I was supposed to hop on a connecting flight to Seoul to crash for the night before training down to Busan, I learned my connecting flight had been “delayed” for…wait for it…14 hours! BTW: I’m not really sure how long my trans-Pacific flight was because I didn’t pay attention to the itinerary, and flying over the International Date Line completely confused all calculations I tried to make. I just know it was pretty cool flying north along the west coast, then hugging the Alaskan coastline as it extends toward Russia. I imagine we stayed just outside of Russian airspace over the Pacific Ocean as we then flew southward to Japan. Huh; wonder if I’m qualified to be vice president now?

But I digress. I think United used the term “delayed” to describe the change in flight plans because it could cause mayhem to announce to hundreds of people who’ve been cooped up on a trans-oceanic flight that their connecting flight has been cancelled. Because really – a flight that leaves 14 hours after its originally scheduled departure is only “delayed?” In my book, a 14-hour “delay” that results in a departure the following day seems like a cancellation to me.

Regardless, there’s really nothing to be gained by regressing into juvenile histrionics or, perhaps more accurately, switching into the “annoyed bitch” persona who usually emerges only when I’m starving with no food in sight. I’m one of 200+ people who have the same problem, and it’s not like I can just take my business elsewhere at this point without incurring major expenses and, in lieu of spoken dialogue in comprehensible English or Japanese, using hand gestures that I hope are universal – but not universally offensive. So I choose the path of least resistance and accept the hotel voucher and trust that I’m understanding the disjointed English spoken by the United customer service woman, from whom I learn (fingers crossed!) that my boarding pass will suffice for the 8:00 a.m. flight tomorrow, that I don’t need to claim my checked baggage because it will just get loaded automatically onto the plane to Seoul, and I can spend up to $15 in food and 3 minutes on international calls at the hotel. So I roll with it – literally, as I step up onto the bus full of travel-weary souls, some of whom have flown from Chicago through Los Angeles with the expectation of a third leg to their journey before landing in Bangkok, or if they’re really lucky, a fourth leg into Laos. As the bus leaves the terminal, the automated voice details our route in English and who knows what other language(s), but I’m struck by the chipper-yet-innocuously delivered message that the bus will pass the hotel and then double back – for security reasons. Wh, wha- what?!? What exactly is going on that security precautions are needed to shuttle around stranded foreigners at the nearest hotel?

After checking into my hotel room, I begin the process of settling, unpacking my carry-on bag, getting the lay of the room, using the restr… um, wait a minute, there’s a button that says “shower” on the toilet. It’s right next to the “bidet” button and the “temperature” button. What is this? I’ve heard of a bidet, but an automated butt-shower? I opt not to shower my bum, but I do appreciate the heated seat Sadly, this settling-in period is when I realize my oh-so-brilliant packing plan, where I thoughtfully put a change of clothes, fresh socks and underwear at the top of my monster-sized backpack so when I did arrive in Seoul at night, it would be extremely easy to shower and change…ummm, not so brilliant since that bag is still in the possession of United Airlines at the Tokyo Narita airport. *sigh* Back to washing my clothes in the sink, a la the collegiate European backpacking trip I took a decade ago.

It’s at this point I realize my boss was right: When I had mentioned that I felt like I had forgotten how to travel abroad because it has been years since I had done so, she reassured me that it would all come back to me once I got “in-country.” Nothing like not having a change of clothes, not speaking a word of the local language, not having any local currency for essential items, not knowing if my luggage really would be waiting for me in Seoul, and not knowing if I really was guaranteed a seat on the “delayed” flight rather than just wait-listed on the next regularly scheduled flight, to force you to figure out how to… just roll with it. Because really, what else could I do?

In Defense of Sarah Palin

Was thinking about posting my own “in defense of SP” blog earlier, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, given my vitriolic enmity against Kristi Burton — whom Sarah Palin mirrors on a national level. But this post gave me the extra-hard nudge I needed to come to her defense.

Interesting that many of the allegations that are coming from within the Republican ranks are similar to the questions that were raised immediately after she was picked, but that those same Republican ranks pointed to as partisan, sexist attacks. Kind of smacks as “Do as I say, not as I do” for the Republican insiders to portray her after-the-fact as not qualified for the job, while they were tying themselves into knots trying to make everyone else believe the ludicrous claim that she had more experience than anyone on the Democratic ticket.

Interesting that John McCain, who claimed that he always puts country first (by the way, isn’t this something that someone else should say about you? it’s kind of like making up your own nickname — takes all credibility away) and that he had the leadership experience necessary to be the commander in chief, selected a running mate who divided the country yet he stubbornly refused to acknowledge that impact on the race. Even worse, after a very graceful concession speech on Election Night — if McCain had acted that way on the campaign trail, the race may have been much tighter and we may have even had a different outcome — he’s awfully quick to cede any form of leadership of his own party and is likewise willing to stand quietly by as his pick for the #2 spot has her character publicly denigrated by his campaign team.

In less than a week, McCain has demonstrated all those claims of being a maverick who will take on the GOP were empty promises uttered to appeal to voters. In less than a week, McCain also has shown that any of the “united for a common purpose” or “leave no one behind” mentality that is supposed to resonate with all military personnel means absolutely nothing to him when it comes to his own running mate.

The fact that McCain’s not willing to stand by his selection of Sarah Palin as his vice presidential pick is so much more revealing of his willingness to forego his own principles than it is of Sarah Palin’s alleged character flaws. If I were any of the 99 colleagues in the U.S. Senate who will be working with him when Congress reconvenes, I’d think more than twice about negotiating with McCain and expecting him to stand by his position or to defend the agreement publicly.