Dateline, where are you?

So, it's 9:30 PM and I'm sitting in the free Internet lounge in the Tapei, Taiwan airport waiting for my connecting flight to Bangkok (Thailand for 2 weeks!!!). I'm telling you, I'm not one to judge a book by its cover, but I can't help but feel that some of the fellas sharing the space here with me are not just going to Thailand to enjoy the sunny beaches like I am. Wow, especially the guy sitting directly to my left. There's no way that I can be discrete enough to take a photo to post, but I'll just say it looks to me like this chap either escaped prison/skipped bail, got in touch with some dude he once did federal time with who specializes in fake ID's and got on the first plane to Southeast Asia or he is the prime suspect for an unmentionable crime in Florida, decided to jet, contacted aforementioned dude and hopped on aforementioned flight. Either way, I might have to keep my eyes on him as far as I can go. I might have to notify local authorities.

Maybe I'll try to strike up a conversation with him -- ask him, "Going to Thailand? Business or pleasure?" If there is a certain shiftiness in the way he doesn't answer "business," well...

I'm just saying "To Catch A Predator" ought to go International.

Ear Food for Abu

Surprise! I'm not dead.

I promise, you'll hear more from me very soon. And, yes, I know -- I owe some emails.

Until then, let's see, real important news...

Oh yeah, I've decided to stay another 6 months in Korea. More on that later.

But, right now, I have to speak to my brother.

Yo, Abu. Dude. I found it. The good sh!t, Bruh. Now, before you click on the link below, make sure you've got a little time and you are nowhere near anyone you don't know very well, no one whom you wouldn't want to see "Aiboo" come out. Trust me, you're gonna wanna replay and replay and replay. This was too big for me to email to you and I couldn't wait around to send you a CD. I can already here the loud, desperate, joyful shout, "Ahh, hell YES!" Boredom and the same stack of Daddy's 45s. Memories. The truly good sh!t.

Go ahead. Dance, my brotha. Cry some if you need to.

Just remember who put that smile on your face today.

Bad Apple Pie

I hate translating things twice--

Ali: How tall are you, Kim Eun Suk?

Kim Eun Suk: Bek Chil-ship-ee.

Ali (silently translating in his head): Bek Chil-ship-ee, bek chil-ship-ee...what's that in English? (Out loud) Oh, a hundred seventy two?

Kim Eun Suk: Yes, a hundred seventy two centimeters.

Ali (silently translating in his head): 172 centimeters, 172 centimeters...what's that in American...

Kids that are Down

Sometimes the crop a kids that we get a particular week are beyond cool. The kids two weeks ago were all the way live. Generally, the Korean kids are extremely image conscious. But, hey, so are American kids. But, it's my experience that the kids in Korea are even more so. Many shy away from the spotlight, even when it begs for just a little self-deprecating foolishness, for fear of embarrassing themselves. Well, the whole week the boys in this video were bragging about how they loved to rap and beat box. When they found out Colin had a mixing board, they were all over him to record them. Colin wrote a little rap for them during lunch on Friday afternoon. They had about an hour to practice it. They brought in the girl, H (that's what she calls herself, "H"), singing the hook in the video and put it all together for the farewell party later that evening. They start off singing Colin's song, then the boys show their stuff on a Korean rap.

What we didn't get on video was H breaking it down afterwards to Beyonce's Crazy in Love. It was the best part of the show. By Korean standards, the girl had guts. Culmination of the best week so far.

What's Happenings

So, some have said, "All right, you hate baseball. Cool. Where the hell you been? What's happening in Korea?" I guess I'm kind of falling off. Here are a few things I can say about my experience so far.

The Internet is a grand thing. When I was here in 1997, I went to an Internet cafe about once every two weeks to check email. I rarely visited any websites. It was a new thing for me. My news source was the Korean Herald, an English language daily that was usually a day and a half late with news from home. Princess Di died when I was in Korea that last time and I didn't hear the news until the manager of the gym I went to told me about it the night after her death. Now, my news reader feeds me news constantly just like it did when I was in the states. I'm just as plugged into world events as I was back home. I think this will help when I return. When I returned the last time, I felt I had lost time.

In a lot of ways, the Koreans are so much more technically advanced, particularly in their mobile phone technology, than we are. I don't really know all the ways how, yet, but here's an example. I went to see Spider Man 4 tonight (the good parts are really good, the bad parts really cheesy -- loved the Spidey pose in front of the U.S. flag frame) and the girl in front of us handed her cell to the clerk, who waved the phone in front of a scanner (I think) and handed the phone back to her with a ticket. I didn't even see her sign anything. I didn't see a receipt. It looked like a completely paperless transaction. She didn't have to dig into her wallet for the correct credit or debit card -- nothing. I wanted to ask her to verify what I thought I had just seen, but there's the language barrier (which seems a bit more difficult to overcome for me this time around). I definitely need to research this.

I have not bought a cell phone here yet. There are so many different kinds of phones that do so many different kinds of cool things. Usually, when I'm about to make a big purchase -- and this is a big purchase, regardless of the price -- I get intimidated by the technology and end up getting frustrated and buying the cheapest one or the one that I know the most about. I'm definitely going to investigate first, then I'll take a Korean person with me to help me buy it. I'll buy her dinner or something in return.

So, about what I'm doing...

I am one of about 15 to 20 native English-speaking teachers and 6 Korean English teachers who teach at Seongnam English Town (SNET). SNET has a number of situational classes ranging from a bank and post office to a cooking class to a fast food restaurant to global connections room, where children learn about world music and other aspects of different cultures. The major draw for me was that the curriculum is based on environment and social justice issues. Sixth graders from all the schools in the local "county" come to SNET for one week, one or two schools at a time. They come on Monday morning and leave on Saturday morning. We're based in three buildings at a community college. Our meals are free on days that we teach. Though it's cafeteria food, you really can't beat free food. The other teachers, the SNET veterans, have been great. They've been quite instrumental in helping to smooth the transition. The hardest thing to get used to was the living conditions. Each teacher has to share a dorm room with another teacher. My roommate, Matt, is a great guy whose easy to get along with, so I kind of lucked out. However, given the choice, I'd much rather live alone. Oh well, it's only six months.

We're set in Bundang, which is a suburb "county" about 40 miles southeast of Seoul. It's an affluent area, a millionaire's playground. Many of the kids we teach have spent some time in the States, Canada or England and aren't too phased by us "foreigners." But, those from the less affluent parts of Bundang probably see a real live non-Korean person only three or four times a year and don't get to establish any kind of relationship with him/her no matter how short. Because of this and because of the general camp-like atmosphere, on Friday, the last day that the kids will see the teachers, they scramble like crazed fans hunting down teachers as if we were rock stars and try to get our autographs. "Teacher, teacher. Sign." Here are some pictures that illustrate the mob scene taken on our nice treetop terrace (an "amphitheatre" of a sort on our roof) after some of the teachers performed for the whole camp during the last class of the day one Friday.

My roomate Matthew. I don't know what I was thinking taking the picture with the sun behind him, but I think the effect is sort of cool.


My boy, Colin, who actually is kind of a rock star. He has hip hop aspirations.


Stephen and Greg

Baseball=Life?

I love sports, but I am in no way a baseball fan. Never have been. As with other useless sports, like underwater basket weaving, hockey and golf, I can handle watching baseball live (actually, I might be stretching it with golf). I feel the game a bit more when I am one of the crowd. Still that's never given me the best opportunity to study the sport. A friend of mine once posited that any and all of life's problems could be solved with a baseball analogy. Girl problems? Turn to baseball. Confused about your next step? Chances are, there is something in the history of our national pastime that can give you an answer, according to my good friend, Summerfield. I challenged him on a few occasions. It went on for about a week. He was always able to come up with something that seemed to fit the situation, so I promised that I might try to pay more attention to baseball. Thus far, I've not really kept my promise. It just bores me to tears -- like watching dudes in fast cars drive in circles hundreds of times or standing by the microwave waiting for the popcorn to pop, or staring at my telephone not ring, or leaning back and watching the unused items on my desk continuing to go unused. You get the idea.

But, these from Yogi are good. Not all are necessarily baseball related. However, such Yogi-isms always remind me that maybe my friend, Summerfield, had something there.

Getting Here or Always Trust Your Instinct, Ali

So, I was supposed to fly out from San Antonio at 7 AM on Thursday, March 29 , after visiting my family for three weeks, to LA and then cross the Pacific to Seoul. I'd spent the last month and a half getting all of the paperwork together and tying all of the necessary loose ends. On Wednesday night I had finally whittled down my possessions to what I would be taking with me. I was so satisfied that I was able to get a good night's sleep free of worry. I got up on time and got to the airport about an hour and a half before takeoff. I expected that I might have an issue with TSA at the check-in counter as is often the case when I fly. But, aside from having to wait behind Ma and Pa Kettle, things went smoothly and I was in the security line with still about 50 minutes to spare. The security line moved slowly and I had to be "specially checked" after going through the metal detector. Fine. I did all of that and made it to the gate at about 7:00, just in time for the boarding to begin.

Now, I wish I could explain to you the layout of the gate area. I was to leave out of gate 15. Gate 15 was in the very far corner of the terminal and it shared that corner, including the waiting area, with gate 16. Walking to the gate or sitting in the waiting area one could not really tell who was lining up to board the plane, because there was a huge brick wall in front of the walkway. When I got to the waiting area, I saw my plane parked outside and I saw hundreds of people sitting in the waiting area. At the time, I really didn't notice gate 16. I don't know, I'll blame it on the time of day. Anyway, I thought, "Hmm, we must be boarding late," and I sat down with my back to the window. I began to fidget with my iPod and to get my reading materials together.

After some time, (I don't really know how much time, I wasn't really paying attention, why pay attention to time at an airport) a woman called on the PA system, "Passengers Ali Armstrong and Blah blah blah, please come to the front desk at gate 15." She pronounced "Ali" like "Alley." My very first reaction was to get up and go up to her. But, then something told me to sit down when I saw what must have clearly been Ali Armstrong (an older blonde white woman) and some other guy named Blah blah blah go up to the desk.

"Ahh, these must be the stand-by passengers," I thought. "Hmm, I wonder how that woman spells her name, A-l-i or A-l-l-y? She has the same last name as my sister." Then, I went back to what I was doing.

I never looked at the time again. No one had moved in the waiting area. I saw what must have been the flight crew disappear behind the brick wall.

"Boy, this plane sure is getting off late. Were we waiting on the crew all this time?" I wondered.

Some time later, the same woman's voice said over the PA, "Now boarding flight..."

"Finally."

"...beedee beedee to San Francisco..."

"What? San Francisco?"

Everyone around me began to rise and head for the brick wall. I jumped up and spun around only to see the lonely jetway jutting out of gate 15 and stopping right next to where the plane sat moments earlier.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiit!" I ran up to the lady and told her that I had just missed the flight to LA. In the next blurry couple of hours I learned a few things. The woman said that she had called my name. Then I figured out that she had not called passengers Alley Armstrong and Blah Blah Blah, but passengers Ali, Armstrong and Blah Blah Blah. Well, why the hell did she call my first name and their last names. Turns out my name was inverted on the ticket, thanks to the travel agency. The name on the ticket read ALI/ANSARI (It never occurred to me that it was Lname/Fname). I called the airline and travel agency only to find that there were practically no other open flights available flying from SA to LA (or even Austin to LA) until the 7th of April. I guess it was Spring Break or something. I think SXSW was over by then, whatever. There was a $500+ flight that day on Southwest that would still get me to my flight to Seoul on time, but there was no way I was paying $500 for a Southwest flight from TX to California, even in an emergency. I didn't want to wait until the 7th and the next open flight to Korea was at 1 AM on Sunday morning. That's the flight I had to make and the flight that I eventually did make. How, you ask?

I took an alternate route.

Morals of the story: 1) Trust your instinct, Ali, not that voice that tries to silence it and 2) you've lived with your name for 34 years, you know good and well that "Alley," "Ailey" and "Al-lie" all mean "Ali."

'Grand Opening'

Well, here it is, my first post on my first actually-give-people-the-address-to-my-blog blog. If you are reading this somewhere around April or May '07 and you actually know who I am, chances are I've sent you an email that both advertises this "grand opening" and apologizes for my not having been in touch for awhile and for my not answering some emails here and there.

To catch you up, I am in Korea now on a 6-month English teaching gig, after which I plan to travel around a bit. I still haven't completely figured out the itinerary for the "after which" part, but I've got a little time. I've been here for almost two weeks after having some minor trouble getting here (more on that later).

I've put this off for several days now, well, almost two weeks to be exact. I've been promising that I'd keep a blog to almost anyone and everyone who knows about my departure. I've been talking about starting a blog to my friends at EchoDitto for way over a year. So, F-it, here it is, dammit!

Understand, I'm a very private person, so much so that it takes a lot for me to write about myself and post it to the Internets for anyone to see. But hey, this thing really only serves one real purpose which is to let everyone back home know how I'm getting along. I know it won't be wide-reaching and I find some comfort in that. I also realize that some of you have already gotten bored with this blabber, have decided, "yeah, the dude sounds like he's doing all right," and have gone on to msnbc.com to find out the latest on Imus (should I have hyper-linked msnbc.com or Imus?). But, it's Friday night and I'm half way through a bottle of Soju and listening to Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" and I'm on a roll.

But, why I'm doing this crazy thing when it seemed that I was doing just fine on a fairly impressive career track (this is for my mother, because this is the question she keeps asking or sort of asking from whatever gets beaten around that proverbial bush)? It's a tough question to answer. I know the answer, but I can't quite find the right words for it. How can I put it...

For too long I have let Fear be the sole, or at least final, determinant of many of my actions or lack thereof. I've often assigned this role to Apathy, Laziness, Lethargy (and other states of being in that general synonymous arc), my upbringing and/or Depression, but upon honest self-analysis, it's clear to me that Fear plays the biggest part in my inability to move forward. My conquering Fear as my largest metaphorical hurtle will undoubtedly propel me to the heights that I (even I) and others have envisioned for me for quite some time, including actively making an impact on conditions and parts of existence that greatly concern me. I think that overcoming this fear will help me in all aspects of my life, including forming friendships and establishing and maintaining relationships, where a fear of vulnerability is grossly prevalent.

So, the escape away from what I know, this journey outside my physical and metaphorical comfort zone is all about this: consciously recognizing the limits that I've created for myself and getting beyond them and reaching into the core of me to rediscover a grounded spirituality to which, thus far, I think I've only temporally connected .

So, stay tuned. In the meantime, to help me get past my fear of opening up, here's a little-known fact about me...

I have ugly toes!! Sorry, Lisa. The piglets looked great after the pedicure, but it seems they've taken to their original form.