Akihabara

MAID CAFES, GEEKS, AND NON-SEXUAL PORN


Today I found a new place to drink coffee: a maid cafe. check this link out for the english version of the site and read more about cosplay cafes in general




Heading up the escalator, I was the only woman.
These were a few of the pics on the walls.

We had to wait outside, and were told not to take pictures. girls in french maid outfits were visible inside. A man in a suit came up to us and asked us how we would like to be addressed by the maids. I opted for my name with "san" at the end, for respect.

When we walked in, a maid immediately kneeled before us and said in Japanese, "welcome home master".

I was expecting to see big dorks and computer geek types inside, but was surprised at how normal most of the people looked. I was the only woman customer, however.

I watched as one normal looking guy transformed into a geek - he looked like he was about to clap his hands in delight as a maid served him his cutesey pancake cut into a shape, and then proceeded to draw a cutesy design on it in chocolate syrup. Then she sang a song, got him to join in with the singing and hand gestures, then they both made the heart hand shape:


I ordered spaghetti. Instead of drawing a picture, the maid mixes it for you. She also made me repeat her song, and we made heart hands and put "love" into the spaghetti together. We also did this for my melon soda - she asked, "which kind of straw is your mood?" I went with pink. And in went the love from me, her, and my companion.

I have a card as proof of my visit. It says "-san"




Next up in Akihabara, was a porn store - or rather, floors and floors of porn in a casually almost unmarked building that looks like any old apartment, save for a small sign:

I’m no expert in this field, but what blew me away was the lack of overt sexuality in the films I saw. I guess that’s fetish culture – maybe you’re just really into watching athletes stretch, or watching a stiletto crush a giant tarantula. De gustos y colores no discuten los doctores, meng. And also, they were soo darn specific. Not just “tennis players” – but looking at the inner lining of tennis shorts worn over regular undergarments. No sex. Just straight up voyeurism.

As a disclaimer, my friend told me, “you’re gonna see stuff so freaky that you won’t even believe it’s in a sex shop because it’s that weird – it doesn’t even look like porn.”

I didn’t get it until I saw what we were dealing with. Here’s a list of a few DVD themes I saw that made me go WTF. The good news for those of you who go “hey, I’ve always liked that but thought I was all alone” is that you can feel at home in Akihabara.


La Bendita’s “wtf” Fetish List:

Samba Fetish: women wearing carnaval costumes

Lining/underwear-that-is-attached-to-a-tennis-skirt/shorts (worn over regular panties) Fetish

Women beating up men Fetish: gangs of teenage girls beat up a man while he cowers in a corner with a nosebleed

Jumping Fetish: girls jumping onto a man that is lying on a pile of sand

Swimmer Fetish: women wearing one-piece speedos chilling by the pool

Amazon Woman Fetish: amazon woman beats up a guy

Stretching Fetish: Stretching before a track and field meet

Muscle Woman Fetish: muscular woman exercising in a hotel room

Sneezing Fetish: just a video of people sneezing

Pianist Foot Fetish: watching feet play the piano. sometimes in stockings or shoes. but just feet pressing the piano pedals shot from below the knee

Strong-woman-crushing-shit Fetish: a strong woman crushing food and pop cans with her hands

Stilletto+Food Punishment Fetish: woman mashing food with stilettos then forcing a man to eat it while he lies on the floor and she kicks food into his mouth and steps on him

Mask-woman goes Sightseeing Fetish: a man puts a natural looking human FACE mask on a woman then takes her out to go sightseeing. She rides in a car, then drinks pop on a ferry ride
-all while wearing a mask.

But we agreed that this was the ultimate weirdest: Big-woman-crushing-a city-Fetish: a woman wearing a bikini stomps over a city much like king kong. She crushes buildings, cars, and even the bullet train.

After all of that, I needed some fresh air. We went for a walk and saw this couple

then ended up eating tempura cooked by this guy:


Reports about Tokyo nightlife and the salsa scene coming next.

Harajuku

SUSHI, SHOPPING, AND PANTIES IN HARAJUKU


Today I did a rare thing - I slept in. As a person who usually bounces out of bed when it's still dark outside, I was definitely busting up my routine. Kaz's girlfriend Kyoko-chan was already gone for work -she's a fashion designer - so Kaz and I made a pot of coffee with the greca (Puerto Rico) / stove top espresso maker [s.t.e.m. (canada)] / moka pot (korea) and looked into Tokyo areas. I like shopping. I like people watching. And I like weird subculture.

I settled on Harajuku for my first day of exploration. Harajuku is known for intense funky fashion . It's so well-known that even Gwen Stefani tried to become a Harajuku girl (she also tried and failed miserably to look latina in one video) and ended up making a perfume: http://www.hlfragrance.com/. But when you think of crazy Japanese street fashion and cosplay (from Costume Play, where people dress like actual anime characters or little bo peep a.k.a. Lolita) this is the neighbourhood that will give you your fix.


(I took this pic last April the last time I was in Tokyo)

Leaving Kaz to work on a "dance-techno-jpop" track, I threw a Tokyo subway map into my bag, and headed out to navigate Tokyo's massive subway line. Harajuku wasn't too bad - Only one transfer away. Much like Korea, everything is in English. There are electronic signs that tell you to the minute what time your train will come, which side of the train to get off, and where to transfer.

In Harajuku, I checked out the Nike Store. Designed by Masamichi Katayama, the interior has turned the Nike shoe into art using shoelaces, mesh uppers, and bits of rubber soles to make collages. I tend to splurge more on heels and other footwear that causes immediate reactions of "fierce" to pulsate through my body, but it was really cool to see people sitting down with nike "consultants" to design their own shoe. I saw one couple repeatedly changing the colour of a shoe's sole. Did he want periwinkle, or midnight blue? Ay yi yiii



Next I spent a ridiculous amount of time shopping in Forever 21, and various vintage stores. I was assisted by a girl who looked exactly like Little Bo Peep. Rosy cheeks, and layers of lace, crinolines and white cotton eyelets that belong in a picnic by the river in the 19th century. Now customer service is GOOD in Korea, but I feel like there is an extra smile and bow here in Japan. The lady took the basket of clothes I wanted to try on and folded them for me - in the reverse order that they were placed in the basket. That's right - she arranged them in the order I had grabbed them off the racks! And of course, you must take off your shoes before entering the change room - but come on, you knew that already.

Today I saw a lot of people wearing Russian Hats.


Yeah, just like this guy - but on a cute and stylish Japanese young woman with a miniskirt and knee socks - and yes, this is what people are wearing in WINTER.

Next I went to a coffee shop to wait for Kaz. I sat down to do some writing and continue to force myself to make a decision via writing about what I am going to do with my life. But I got distracted by two things. First, I was watching a teenage girl beside me in the middle of an intensely long makeup process. This girl applied black pencil eyeliner and fake lashes, in little groups of three or four, while her coffee sat in front of her. She and her friend were in high school uniforms and I got the impression they were transforming themselves for a wild night out.

And secondly, there was a white American guy talking loudly. Why does this always happen? I mean a loud, arrogant white guy, who speaks at a volume that booms over everyone else. And I guess when you live in Asia as a foreigner, you get used to tuning things out. I can sit peacefully in a coffee shop in Korea and ignore everyone if I want to. But hearing him speak in my native tongue forced me to listen. And now I know lots about him. He's an artist. He's a musician. He is a reformed playa. Sitting with his female companion, he then moved on to his sexual exploits dating 6 women at once when he first arrived in Japan. His companion was Peruvian - my ears first perked up when I heard a Spanish accent speaking English - jes- but I almost wanted to tell her en español, lady, your companion is a douche. Find another gringo.

Once Kaz arrived we walked around Harajuku entering a hat store, piled high with old-skool hat boxes, marc by marc jacobs where i decided i didn't need a new wallet after all, and went for a delicious sushi dinner at a restaurant with a rotating belt. I only eat thin slices of sashimi because the texture weirds me out, and of course we drank green tea - do-it-yourself with green tea powder and a hot water dispenser. Before meeting up with Kyoko-chan for drinks at a traditional Japanese sake and plum wine bar, we went for a walk in the Love Motel district.

I was curious - I wanted to see a weird freaky japanese fetish store. You always hear about strange sexual fetishes in Japan, from bukake porn to anime character fun, but certainly one of the most talked-about specialties is the "used panty craze". As we walked by one store, Kaz read in Japanese, "used lingerie". I'm no 변태 - and neither is Kaz (^-^) but I decided that I had to check this one off the list.

So on my insistence (I promised Kaz I would write this in a way that doesn't make him look like a perv so let's be clear that it was my idea to go in) we went in. The store had extremely narrow aisles, of the type where if you ran into someone else you would be forced to squeeze by them, making bumping into someone in a sex shop all the more awkward. There was a dude at the counter with long stringy bleached hair who didn't even look up when we walked in. And then I saw them.

There were two shelves of panties neatly folded into squares and placed in identical plastic packages. They sat in plastic trays, and had labels in Japanese. I picked up a few packages to examine them. Most of the labels said, "High School Girl" but one said "Older Beautiful Lady" - those were beige and cotton.. jajaja

After passing by the strap-ons, I decided that I'd had enough and we left.

CHECK!

From the tips of their toes in Tokyo

From the second I arrived in the Tokyo boarding area at the airport, I saw a lot of Timberlands / re-constructed (ha!) construction type and chunky boots on guys. This trend has not reached Daegu.


Girls are also doing interesting things with leg wear – layering colourful or patterned knee-socks over black tights, and industrial (evoking 95-95) or desert boots (80s) are the footwear that’s hot, as are black versions of the J-Lo Manolo Blahnik tims. You’ve got to give it to your Seoul and Tokyo saram... they know how to dress.

Images borrowed from style-arena.jp

Daegu-Incheon-Tokyo: from the airport

When I fly out of Korea, I can choose between leaving from Incheon, a suburb of Seoul about a 4.5 hour bus ride away, or Busan, which is a 1 hour ride.

The Busan flight was at a crappy time, and was more expensive.

So I set off for Incheon in the middle of the night, on the “airport limousine bus”. The slightly more expensive bus (35 000 won) has seats that are more like a Laz-E-Boy. Huge, they lean back and have foot rests. Standard bus etiquette is to sleep – maybe that’s why people pay more – they expect to catch some zzs – and I have been told to shut up on more than one occasion. This time I slept for four hours straight, opening and closing my eyes briefly at the rest stop, then woke up right at the door of the airport.

I work pretty hard in Korea. A full time job, media work that gives me overtime, salsa, freelance writing, and dreaming about what I want to do with my life...it can wear a woman out. So when I decide to vacation, I like to spoil myself.

Incheon is a huge airport that puts Toronto’s Pearson to shame. Full of designer stores, cafes, restaurants, a muslim prayer room, beauty salons and more, I had budgeted my time to explore the airport and enjoy a little bit of pampering before flying out. So I headed to the basement to the sauna. Now a sauna in Korea is not simply a steam room with the possibility of a hot tub. You can rent private nap rooms, or just sleep on one of the heated floors – a cheaper alternative for those who don’t want to go to a hotel - and enjoy hot tubs of various temperatures, steam and salt rooms.

A close cousin of the more elaborate jimjilbang, upon arrival at the sauna you are given a key, a towel, and a shorts and t-shirt combo that looks like high school gym class. You lock up your shoes in a shoe locker. Then go into the change room that matches your sex. Looking at the menu of services, I settled on a “scrub”. The thai massage was a whopping 110,000 won – (about $100 CA) which is a crime when you have memories of paying $6 for an hour of full-body massage in Thailand itself, which Ainy describes as “stretching your body without having to do any work yourself.”

I have seen these scrub-downs in Jimjilbangs and saunas. An ahjumma, or older woman, usually wearing a black lacey bra and panty set, prepares a massage table. I have seen cucumber slices placed on faces, mud and salt rubbed over skin, and vigorous vigorous rubbing.

My ahjumma was also wearing some gym class shorts on top of her bra and panty set. She dumped a bucket of water over the table and told me to lie down. She put on an exfoliating mitt, and got to work scrubbing my body. Starting at my feet, she really left only the most intimate of places un-touched. The scrub down was so damn vigorous, that my body was raw, and I debated telling her to stop, or say, “that’s enough!” more than once. But I didn’t want to be a wimp – and I wanted to see what the full treatment was anyways. First I lay on my back. Then my side. Then the other side, then on my stomach. Then we did it all over again. I don’t think I’ve been this well-exfoliated in a long time. So I went into the steam room to complete the purification process. And then feeling like my entire body was exactly the same texture as a baby’s ass, I proceeded to leisurely apply creams and make-up, and emerged glowing.

Then it was time to check-in. I was wondering why there were so many Americans. How do I know they are American (soldiers)? First of all, the un-becoming crew cut that so many white and Hispanic soldiers sport. At least most military black guys have the decency to shave their heads with a proper fade. I mean, why the hell would you get a crew cut when you can have the perfectly acceptable and arguably more attractive evenly shaved head? Sometimes I get exasperated when men ruin their look – I firmly beleive that it’s way easier to be a hot guy than a hot girl.

The other military sign is the camo backpack. Yeah. Anyways a lady came by with cards promoting some service that I didn’t catch, and only handed them out to Koreans. She started at the back of the line, and would sometimes step slightly in front of someone, or move up just enough to see the side of their face, before approaching them. This was her checking to see if they are Korean. I find this hilarious – often when I am downtown, people tap me on the shoulder to ask for directions. When I turn around, and they see a foreign face, they walk away. This also happens from the front when I wear sunglasses. I chalk it up to my decidedly Korean 5’3 stature and skin colouring – Sharifa would often lose me in a sauna without her glasses because naked, I blend in pretty well.

Back to the line? A flight attendant came by and spoke to only the Korean people in the line – in Korean. I watched her as she skipped the foreigners, talked to Koreans, and then the Koreans would leave the line and go to a First Class area with no line up. When she approached the couple in front of me, I finally heard what she was saying. She was offering them the chance to by-pass the long line with “self check in”. I followed the Korean couple and let her know, in Korean, that I was also going to Tokyo and would also like to go with the self-check-in option. She smiled courteously with a slight bow of the head and said, “ne.” My Korean is far from perfect, but I still have to laugh at the fools that don’t even bother to learn how to read the alphabet (and I am solely judging those who stay in Korea to work for more than a year, which definitely justifies learning to read Hangeul, a feat which can be accomplished in one day minus a few tricky pronunciation glitches which can be smoothed out in a short time) and miss out on opportunities to usurp “Korean only” opportunities.

One more airport feature that stands out is the collection of "Traditional Korean Areas". Women dressed in Hanbok speak English and teach you how to make a traditional craft for free. I made a little wooden desk today as I chatted with the ladies in Konglish, and listened to a traditional music performance. Last year I decorated a plate with coarse traditional paper which my mother has.

Next up... stories from Tokyo itself. I'm staying with Kaz, a friend I met about 12 years ago who went to high school and university with me.

Who pays on the first date?

I originally wrote this as a facebook note and had a lot of feedback, so here it is again:

We were sitting in the office and the question of who pays on a first date comes up. For me it was simple, “the guy pays, because it’s the first date.”

I have developed a technique where I fiddle with my wallet, slowly sliding it out of my bag. When it lands on the table, I let my fingers hover over the clasp of the wallet and wait for him to notice. I will offer to pay. At this point, I expect the guy to insist on paying. I might even offer once more, but on the second, weak offer, my wallet will already have slowly started to slide back into my purse. And you can bet I’ll be on the phone complaining to my friends the next day if I end up paying for the check.

However, my co-worker didn’t let me get away with it. “If women and men are equal, then they are equally free to pay for the cheque. It’s equal to go dutch.”

My thoughts? The guy pays, and the sky is blue. There are certain things that you don’t question – it’s just good manners.

Or is it? I wholeheartedly agree that it’s a great thing to go dutch once you’re past the first, or second date – this rule doesn’t apply to relationships - i.e. “I’ve got dinner, so you’ll get the movie tomorrow.”

But I’m also a feminist – not the bra-burning variety - I firmly believe that men and women should have equal access to opportunities. I also believe that men and women are different – and I like this to be recognized. Gender might be a performance, and I occasionally play a hyper-traditional role – but I still expect a guy to know that I am also going to step out of that role at some point.

So why is paying considered good manners? What does the man picking up the check symbolize? Are its roots in an archaic time where the man is the provider and the woman is expected to be a homemaker? Does it imply that a woman is weak, or does she owe the man something after letting him pay, such as her time and conversation, or more? Is a man paying on the first date today symbolic of him showing his potential to financially provide for you? Am I reinforcing gender roles by expecting the guy to pay?

I was always pushed to excel, a student council member and honour roll student who played classical piano instead of watching TV. I wasn’t supposed to grow into a woman that NEEDS someone to pay – which I don't. But I do expect it.

One thing I do know, is that most Latin Americans would be horrified that I am even asking this question. “What! Que horror! He actually had the audacity to take you out and not pay? Eso no es correcto!”

I am also going to take a moment to point out that latin dance, i.e. salsa, mimics these gender roles, with the man leading and having full control of where the couple goes, as the woman follows and is attentive to his every movement.

Back in Canada, I was raised in two households – and the Ecuadorian one was a place where “no decent girl goes to a guy’s house” and where my guy friends, forget boyfriends, were expected to “have the decency to walk you home” and on my first date my dad said, “I will drive you there – and bring a baseball bat”. I got away with hitting my brother, but if he looked at me the wrong way, “Nicolas! You don’t hit to a woman!” My dad always walked on the car side of the road, and carried my bags. My younger brother regularly gives me rides and he, too, carries my bags. Both are quick to label guys that upset me either “a vulture/shark/buitre/tiburon” (Jaime senior) or “a douche” (Jaime junior). Melindita la hermanita mijita chiquitita is sugar and spice and everything will be nice, by family standards,… provided that she is going out with guys that pay for her.

When I lived in Guatemala and Ecuador, I did like walking around with a guy. 1) it makes unwanted guys eff off – with the exception of fresh ones who yell “primo!” or “cunhado!” 2) It is safer in areas where crime is a concern. And what happens when you are constantly with a guy? You constantly get things paid for.

One of the beautiful things about being bi-cultural is taking bits and pieces of all of your cultures, and re-inventing and re-working them in a way that fits for you. My Canadian side keeps me feisty and independent and my Latina side puts life, colour, and passion into my feminine identity. Identity is fluid, and today, I’m a feminist that still expects the guy to pay. Colorin, colorado, el cuento se ha acabado.

Mountains, coffee, and dreams

Last night I had a dream that I carried my 6-year-old self up a mountain. As I carried myself, I noticed that I was both chubby, and very cute. I was also wearing white thick tights with patent leather mary janes, which is probably why I wore thick grey tights a la Catholic high school uniform to work today.

But the going up the mountain image makes sense because I've been pretty tired, nursing a cold that destroyed my voice and which disgusting cigarette smoke aggravated over the weekend. Maybe we shouldn't have ordered three pitchers of margaritas at Asha's welcome dinner on Friday night. But it was tex mex night, dammit, and like I said, us Mexicans have to represent.

At the top of the mountain I arrived at Vicky's wedding reception.... prima is not the only one dreaming about her wedding apparently. (Get ready for your "international salsa instructor" to arrive just for the wedding....)

I have a nasty cold, and it was rough getting through the weekend. Try screaming "pa' 'bajo... Y!" over and over at a roomful of salsa students with a voice, already strained by a cold, that rapidly declined to a raspy 1-900 level. My voice is so altered, in fact, that moonkkang did not want me to record today. "It wouldn't be appropriate for children," I agreed with the sound engineer.

However, cold aside, wearing a cute new jumpsuit and "impact" bright red lipstick helped me to feel excited about strutting my stuff on Saturday night. So much so, that I decided to get on a mini stage and dance with blonde Korean Harry Potter and an entertaining Irish (I think) guy.

Exciting changes to salsa? Susy and I are teaching with Freeman, a cuban-style instructor who is going to Japan in two months. We will eventually be taking over his students, so at the moment, the three of us are teaching together. I have noticed that the guys who dance cuban style have a hell of a lot more "sabor" (flavour) than most other korean dancers. He trains his students to lead so well, it never ceases to amaze me. I couldn't stop exclaiming over the strong lead of one of the korean guys who got all embarrassed answering my compliments with, "Sorry, no English". So I told him in Korean, that he dances like a latino, and he managed to giggle while simultaneously leading me in a turn.

As an instructor, my biggest pet peeve is "flaccid spaghetti arm" and people violating the simple rule of this: the man leads, the woman follows. Sometimes I get so mad, I yell "man up!" to the guys, and tell the girls, "if you don't need someone to lead you, then dance by yourself."

Korean lessons

I have been taking private Korean lessons once a week since June. I have been exposed to a lot since then, little of which has been fully absorbed, but it has made a major difference in my life here. But now my teacher has accepted a university teaching position in China and will be leaving next month. I will definitely be sad to see her go - we have bonded during our one-on-one lessons and often go for dinner together after class.

She has taught me many things about Korea. Her take on the "personal" questions many people ask you when they first meet you (how old are you, are you married, what's your job) is that it's just a way to get closer, to learn more about you. She also gets points from me, because she teaches the YMCA's free lessons for female immigrants who are married to Korean men ("International Marriage Women" by the Y's terminology)- and these women often can barely communicate with their husbands.

Terrorism

Forget Al Qaeda. The real terrorists are 7-year-old Korean children who are reacting to being forced to study English locked in a dungeon - otherwise known as their personal study room.

This kid I am teaching was stressing me out. He gives me charlie horses, runs out of the room, and tried to shoot rubber bands at me. I made the charlie horse thing worse because I taught him the English word. So now, he'll start giggling and get a mischivieous glare in his eyes. He looks up at me and says slowly, "Teacher... charlie horse?" And then he dives for my thigh and throws all 20 pounds of his body into his fist.

This is bad because I suck at discipline. Yelling at him in Korean didn't work, and his mother doesn't do anything. One day he wanted to go to the bathroom, and I told him to wait five minutes. He proceeded to point to his crotch, say bathroom, then dropped his pants. How many more Korean males are going to flash me? Honestly!

Coffee Class

Because I love coffee and because I need it, and so one can "impress their friends" (thanks Ivan). I am taking a coffee course where we have learned how to make various kinds of coffee - from stove top espresso makers (greca in puerto rico), to hand drip, to weird contraptions that look like they belong in a mad scientist's lab in the 1800s. Next week is latte art, where I will have a chance to draw finicky little designs, a very "Melinda" thing that I usually take out on my nails, face, and in anything I bake. Here are some pics.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2343358&id=120806589&l=87ad7f8fa4

Also do check out Ivan's blog. He's a great writer and this explains a lot of what we do here in Korea... but sorry folks, only in Spanish. I was explaining to him my dilemma of wanting to write about things that might potentially offend people in Korea to which he wisely stated, "That's why I write in Spanish."

http://ivanenkorea.com/

Free Hugs.
Just when you think you're getting used to Korea, you see random things like this that surprise you.
Last week after coffee class, I headed out with Ivan and Sunny. Free hugs were available from a group of girls and we went for it.



This week it was a group of middle or high school boys with their big signs in English and Korean. Ivan looks like a photographer. He has a large camera with a huge lens, and he is a foriegner. So he stopped, and took photos of this row of boys. They noticed. Then I walked towards them. The courtyard cleared. no one else was going for their free hug at this moment. I went up to the row of guys with my arms outstretched, and they all froze. As I wondered, hey, where's my free hug, it also ocurred to me that i had a choice... of.... adolescent boys. Not cool. Anyways finally one of them came forward and swept me into a bear hug. Here's a three-step photo interpretation so you can see the confident fellow.

I'll leave with a few tidbits before I press "publish".

I'm going to Japan next week to spend some time in Tokyo with Kaz. Dozo!

Number of times I've been flashed by a Korean male in the last six months: 2

P.S. to those who have asked, incidents such as these are not considered accurate data for size-related questions.

Surprising discovery: I make the same monthly salary as an entry-level Samsung engineer

Interesting exchange with a Mexican-American:

Melinda: Well, people usually think I'm Mexican.

Arthur: Yeah! Doesn't that bother you?

Melinda: Wait - aren't you Mexican?

Arthur: Yeah. But it still bothers me that people assume it.

I'm actually working here, no posing whatsoever, which means this is probably exactly what I look like RIGHT NOW.

The Wedding Factory

This Sunday I had a dilemma. There were two weddings: one was at 11:50am, and the other at 12:10 noon. Sound like an awkward time? This type of scheduling is actually the norm - it's the only way to keep up a consistent high turnover: at the second hall, weddings were scheduled at 20 minute intervals. I was forced to choose one because they were at opposite ends of the city, and this is what I saw:

~~~

I took the subway to "Vienna Wedding". As I approached this wedding hall, people were spilling out of the four-storey building. Dressed in their Sunday best, most people were wearing black, except for a sprinkling of older people in colourful Korean traditonal clothing, or hanbok.

There were so many people milling about the lobby that the elevator was out of the question, and I was getting shoved and elbowed left, right and centre. I took the stairs, and an opportunity to check out a guy's auburn-highlighted perm as he yelled into his headset and directed human traffic into a room on a floor I passed.

It was 12:00, ten minutes before my friends wedding was supposed to start. Another wedding was still going on. The bride for the wedding I was about to attend, was in a tiny room where people could go to say hi and take pictures with her. I would argue that this is one of the only moments guests get to spend with the actual couple. There is also an area where you pay - money is traditionally given in a simple white envelope, with the contributor's name written on the outside. In exchange for your contribution, you get a numbered meal ticket.

As I put my money in an envelope, I was greeted by my friend's parents. His mother was in a hanbok, and his father was in a western suit. Both wore whtie gloves. They brought him over in his shiny grey suit with thick pastel piping - he also had a tousled piecy "bed head" look - the first time I had ever seen his hair styled. I said congratulations, he said thanks for coming, and that was all I saw of him for the rest of the day.

There were so many people that we didn't get a seat. We stood outside the room of the actual ceremony where we could watch it on a big screen where we could see the couple standing at a "secular altar" - Secular, because the man conducting the ceremony is not a priest. According to my Korean friend So-yeon, the ideal candidate to conduct the ceremony is an older man in a respected or high-ranking position, such as a university professor. She paid about $100 for the man who married her, and was able to tailor the style of ceremony to her needs, which in her case meant throwing in a few bible passages for her husband's religious family.

The ceremony itself was quick, and I didn't understand a word of it. Even if I had better Korean, I would not have been able to hear anything as people were milling about the lobby which made the big-screen Samsung impossible to hear.

Then comes the time for a few symbolic gestures. At the weddings I have attended over the last year and a half, I have seen a few common elements to these short ceremonies. In addition to one woman whose role is the Bride's Assistant (basically rearranging her dress every time she takes a step), there are often a few ladies dressed in what look like flight attendant uniforms with white gloves and sailor's caps. A champagne pouring contraption is often brought out, and the couple does a "couple shot" where they intertwine arms before sipping from their own glass. This happened at this particular wedding.

In terms of entertainment, sometimes a relative or friend will sing a song or play an instrument. I once saw a kid play an off-tune cello solo, and have also seen Karaoke-style serenades where bubbles were released and disco-lights started.

The groom often displays a physical feat, which I choose to read as a symbol of his strength and corresponding health and virility for that special night. He might get down on his white-gloved hands, and do a push-up with the bride sitting on his back. I have also seen a guy run a lap around the wedding hall room - no easy feat with huge hanbok skirts and guests in the way in the aisles.

After the ceremony, a series of pictures are taken. The first is of the couple with their immediate family. Parents are dressed in hanbok. Then comes the extended family, and then friends separately. I have also seen "foreign friends" and "Korean friends" separated as well.

The last shot of the photo shoot involved staging a bridal bouquet toss. As the guests, we were carefully arranged by the photographer aroung the couple. Our job was to smile and clap, as the bride tossed the bouquet towards.... the groom - three times.

But now all the friends were there - before the ceremony was over, people had already begun to walk out of the hall. They were headed for the buffet. The entire second floor of the building was dedicated to a huge cafeteria with white-table clothes and a buffet full of Korean food, salads, sushi, rice cakes, rices (of course I intend this to be plural), soups, meats, friend veggies, and an entire section dedicated to various types of kimchi.

When you walk in, someone snatches your ticket. All of the tables were full in this huge room. With my group of friends, we decided to separately scope out a spot. The only option was to hover over other people as they ate and wait for them to peace out. When we saw some people starting to pack their purses and stand, we ran over and pounced on the free seats before the waiters could make it to clear the plates.

How long did the whole she-bang take? An hour and a half. May they live happily ever after.

STATS

Creepy pick-up attempts at a wedding by Korean men who speak fluent English: 2
Number of guys who walked into work with a fresh perm this week: 1
Types of kimchi currently in my fridge: 2
Roadtrip of the week: UNESCO heritage sight and Silla Dynasty capital Gyeongju
Latest published article: Jan. 2010 issue available for viewing at daegupockets.com Winning quote said to me: "I tried your gingerbread. I think you will be a good wife."
Ridiculous purchase of the week: fake gold chains laid out on a blanket in the subway in Seoul for $3 a pop.
Writing Tip: Periodically ask yourself "who cares" as you are writing. You will be surprised at how much you cut.
Guy who everyone thought was my boyfriend: My BROTHER
Korean language issue of the week/mockery of Melinda:
(This is primarily for Yuri and will be expanded on when I have access to a Korean keyboard)

"HA HA HA MELINDA! say 까지 now say 같이!"

Merry X-rated XMAS: My brother delivered a number of presents for me. One of my requests was a selection of lingerie from La Senza. The card on the present was signed by mom, Paul, and Nicolas. What did Paul write? "Make sure to show the boy a good time."
note: he did not know what was in the package... LOL

Korean or Cuban? El arroz con gris
For our Christmas dinner, I decided to cook something vegetarian. I went with a big pot of cuban black beans and rice, even taking the time to verify the recipe with a cuban I know who cooks well. When it was time to pack up, I was shocked that no one ate it - people thought it was Korean rice with black beans - a distinctly different flavour - but a strikingly similar appearance.

band that I like: http://jeites.blogspot.com/

I heard this on the very secluded Bottle Beach in Thailand. Spanish? Chica? Spanish! yes! I asked the laid back dude who worked there, and he disappeared into a back room. The music stopped, then he came out a second later with a CD-R with "JEITES.BLOGSPOT.COM" written in black permanent marker in stylized capital letters that were hard to read. They were from Argentina and had left the CD a few months before during their stay. check out "si vos queres" on the player on the main page.
Purchase I am ashamed of: faux UGGS. I have hated these fugly boots for so long. I also hate crocs by the way. Anyways it was really snowing in Seoul and my feet got wet in my stylish but not made for winter black shiny boots. So I was forced to find a pair of cheap and warm shoes.... and settled on these for $20. But... I have continued to wear them. They are so comfortable, and complement my most common work outfit that is a combination of leggings and baggy tops a la japan-korea region of asia.

The trouble with Korean names

These are three of the people I report to on a daily basis. The man at the top is the media manager, and we see each other a lot because he gives me my scripts and arranges my schedule. When we were introduced, I heard the Korean word for hospital: Byungwon. But it's actually ByungGwan.

Hospital isn't that bad. But this next example is:

A friend of mine couldn't remember the name of a waiter she has a crush on.

"What's his name? Uh.. maybe Byun Tae?"

Byun Tae = perv.
She was right, it ends in Tae, but it's Jun Tae.... ay yi yiii

DDONG PPANG: this bean-paste-filled winter bread is shaped like poo.

This second photo is quite small, but they actually have a step by step process illustrated to poo, complete with flies buzzing around.

Simple Pleasure:
One of the finest things in life is waking up, enjoying a lazy coffee and just strolling. Vacation is a mentality. i don't have to LEAVE korea. I can create it. I have discovered that i am one of those people that 1-sleeps less than many others and 2 - enjoys getting up earlier than most people consider to be sane. While Nicolas slept in my favourite classy love motel in Seoul, I got up and went for a walk in Itaewon. I went up the road to the mosque that is full of foreign food stores, went to a bookstore, bought some fluffy orange socks because my feet were cold, and then had a leisurely coffee and croissant at "Paris Baguette" as I watched the people traffic.

Love and Technology: Sarang-he-WHAT?

Public displays of affection nauseate me - when you're groping and kissing and making your friends feel awkward. But what about a public declaration of your love, via powerpoint presentation?

Two guys in the office were working together on a surprise for a man, who we'll call JiHyun, who was about to ask the girl he was seeing, to "be his girlfriend."

For me, this immediately resonated with the tradition present in conservative pockets of Latin America where you need to "declarar a la mujer" or "pedir permiso a los papas" before you have "una relacion formal." But mariachi serenades and flowery speeches have gone high tech in Korea.

JiHyun was preparing a song, a ring, a huge stuffed animal, and a powerpoint presentation - all to be presented in public, at a restaurant. The song had lyrics that were a bit intense for his purposes - he wasn't proposing marriage, after all - which caused for a few modifications. When the song said "I love you" he added a quick voice-over of himself saying "I like you a lot". Similarly, "I want to marry you" became "I want to be with you".

But what really blew me away was the idea of a powerpoint presentation, as images of university lectures, bullet points, and red laser dots highlighting the three sub-points on "why want to be with you" flooded my brain.

JiHyun was not alone. Another co-worker's fiance proposed to her via powerpoint presentation. This was too much for me to take - was this actually a trend? So I went to a source, a bilingual, well-traveled co-worker who knows North America and serves as a linguistic and cultural translator more often than she should have to. She confirmed that it really is "quite common" ... however rather than the bullet points that I had pictured, a montage of images with floating text across the screen tends to be preferred.

This led me to an investigation of the Korean dating world, a world that I assumed I would have great difficulty getting access to because the majority of the foreign-Korean couples you see involve a Korean woman with a foreign (white) man, so I was pretty sure direct field research was out. But through various sources, I have managed to glean some information.

1. Making things official is important: this declaration can involve oversized stuffed animals, the presentation of matching his and hers "couple rings" (same sex relationships are pretty in the closet in Daegu, so will not be considered in this list due to a lack of reliable sources for information), and powerpoint presentations. But the words must be said - the man will officially invite the woman to be his formal girlfriend.

2. Couples hug. Friends don't: I have scared a few of my Korean friends, especially guys, when I went in for a hug. After a joyous night of hanging out, isn't a hug in order? Not when you're only used to waving in a rapid motion in a vertical hand position accompanied by "bye!" In most cases, the other person allows the hug to happen, but they are careful to tilt their torso very far away from my body, and give a light fluffy, flaccid-armed pat on my shoulders.

[Similarly, when I have been introduced to Koreans, often the bow starts at their waist simultaneously as my arm extends, and then we both realize we are doing different things. At this point there is a moment where we both continue our handshake and bow, respectively, but alas the handshake usually wins. ]

3. Women are expected to act inexperienced sexually. A source of mine says that she and her friends agree that one must play "the innocent" for the first two months. Pretend you don't know what you're doing. However at the two month point, you can safely bust out your moves without looking "overly experienced".