Saturday, November 29, 2008
Finally finding me
It's funny. At age 55, after two marriages, two dozen pets, and too many jobs to count, I feel as if I'm finally finding myself, ten thousand miles from home. Why the heck I've been hiding over here all these years is a mystery to me.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Nofurky Day
Hi, everybody. Happy Thanksgiving!
Today is raw and wet in Daegu, just exactly the kind of family holiday not to spend alone in your dark apartment thinking of family and pumpkin pie. Fortunately, a teacher named Robert at the Samduk branch has a lot of money and is very generous; he hosted Thankgiving lunch for us at the newest, fanciest hotel downtown. There was a nice eighth-floor view of downtown, though the clouds and haze hid the mountains.
And, OMG, you guys, the food! He had ordered two whole turkeys for the ten of us, nine if you don't count me, the carnscientious objector. (Too big a stretch there?) A waiter came and carved the turkey at the table. But also there was a buffet with clams, oysters, mussels, escargot, shark steak in cream sauce, assorted roast beasts, green beans, salad, fresh fruit, and about a dozen fancy desserts, including a passable pumpkin pie. I never met a carb I didn't like, so I made out great, though I have to go to work shortly and the sugar high is wearing offfffffffffffzzzzzzzzzzzz
No smashed or sweet taters, no tofurky, but still, wow. It's probably the nicest hotel I've ever been in, and that includes both the New York Hilton and the Fredericksburg Red Roof Inn. Mostly, it was nice to be with friends on the holiday. (If Luke e's me a photo, I'll put it up here.)
We're starting to plan some sort of a Christmas get-together. Anna is so lucky; her mom and sister will be here for Christmas. I hope we can all join in and keep the 10,000-miles-from- home Christmas blues away. Stores here are selling and displaying tinsel and lights and angels and such, and there are lovely, decorated trees in the underground shopping areas downtown.
At Costco yesterday, I saw a young Buddhist nun, gray robed, shaved headed, picking out Christmas decorations.
On the home front, Tug and Tiki cry and moan much of the time. They look at me and yowl. I give them food, they eat and yowl. Milk: drink and yowl. I guess they're just still freaked out by being closed up inside. (For an urban cat in Korea, outside equals danger, hunger, and misery.) I'm trying to keep my attitude aligned to "It's okay, guys, I'll make sure nothing ever happens to you" and away from "Shut up, you furry little bastards." It's hard on the nerves, though.
They are letting me sit within three feet or so when they eat, and have both resentfully (but without hissing or swatting) let me pet them a little, so we are making progress. Faster would be better.
At any rate, Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, or if you don't see this till afterward, Happy Yemeni Independence Day.
There's always something to celebrate.
Today is raw and wet in Daegu, just exactly the kind of family holiday not to spend alone in your dark apartment thinking of family and pumpkin pie. Fortunately, a teacher named Robert at the Samduk branch has a lot of money and is very generous; he hosted Thankgiving lunch for us at the newest, fanciest hotel downtown. There was a nice eighth-floor view of downtown, though the clouds and haze hid the mountains.
And, OMG, you guys, the food! He had ordered two whole turkeys for the ten of us, nine if you don't count me, the carnscientious objector. (Too big a stretch there?) A waiter came and carved the turkey at the table. But also there was a buffet with clams, oysters, mussels, escargot, shark steak in cream sauce, assorted roast beasts, green beans, salad, fresh fruit, and about a dozen fancy desserts, including a passable pumpkin pie. I never met a carb I didn't like, so I made out great, though I have to go to work shortly and the sugar high is wearing offfffffffffffzzzzzzzzzzzz
No smashed or sweet taters, no tofurky, but still, wow. It's probably the nicest hotel I've ever been in, and that includes both the New York Hilton and the Fredericksburg Red Roof Inn. Mostly, it was nice to be with friends on the holiday. (If Luke e's me a photo, I'll put it up here.)
We're starting to plan some sort of a Christmas get-together. Anna is so lucky; her mom and sister will be here for Christmas. I hope we can all join in and keep the 10,000-miles-from- home Christmas blues away. Stores here are selling and displaying tinsel and lights and angels and such, and there are lovely, decorated trees in the underground shopping areas downtown.
At Costco yesterday, I saw a young Buddhist nun, gray robed, shaved headed, picking out Christmas decorations.
On the home front, Tug and Tiki cry and moan much of the time. They look at me and yowl. I give them food, they eat and yowl. Milk: drink and yowl. I guess they're just still freaked out by being closed up inside. (For an urban cat in Korea, outside equals danger, hunger, and misery.) I'm trying to keep my attitude aligned to "It's okay, guys, I'll make sure nothing ever happens to you" and away from "Shut up, you furry little bastards." It's hard on the nerves, though.
They are letting me sit within three feet or so when they eat, and have both resentfully (but without hissing or swatting) let me pet them a little, so we are making progress. Faster would be better.
At any rate, Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, or if you don't see this till afterward, Happy Yemeni Independence Day.
There's always something to celebrate.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Scaredy cats
It's been a tough couple of days at the cathouse.Tiki (on the left) and Tug (on the right) have made their den in the furnace room. They spend just about all of the time, when I'm home anyway, on the cement. I bought a blanket and laid it down for them just in front of the tubing, as it won't fit behind it; they prefer to stay sheltered by the tubing.
What's really a pain is that Tiki kept mewing piteously and incessantly most of the night; on the rare occasions when his noise was cessant (English teachers are too allowed to make up words), I couldn't relax, counting the seconds until he... ah, there he goes again. He had wedged himself on the window ledge behind the furnace door and he was letting the world know he wasn't happy. Finally, either he got sleepy or my machinations (close the furnace room door a bit so he can't wedge himself in, leave the kitchen light on, shut my bedroom door, pray for death) worked, because he shut up about 4 a.m. I woke up at 8, full of vim, vigor, and I'm totally lying.
I did get them to eat a little this morning, putting the bowls just inside the furnace area, but with the door propped so they could see me sitting calmly ten feet away. It's a start. I think Tug might be venturing out by now, if Tiki weren't freaking him out. They do come out when I'm not here; a bunch of my toiletries was lying on the bathroom floor when I got home last night, and somebody'd been playing Minesweeper.
In a freak of scheduling, I have today off, and I'd planned to go hike Palgongsan. Right now, however, I have just enough energy to maybe make it down my stairs. I'm going to take the bus to Costco for cat and people supplies, then come back and take a nap, if it's pussible.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Posse cats
(Some of this post is graphic and shocking.)
I made a huge change in my life today, one that will affect me for many years: I have two cats now. I'd show you photos, but they've been here for two and a half hours and they haven't come out from under the couch yet.
On Friday, I thought I'd check out the little pet shops across town near the big Banwoldang intersection, just to see how much they charge for cats. (Ordinarily, I would never, ever buy an animal from a pet store, but there simply are no shelters here. None. Not one. And there's no way I, in my situation, could lure a stray and domesticate it.) Turns out that the pet shops just have dogs: tiny pups the size of your fist, from little breeds; the puppies are kept one per little plastic cubicle. There was one sleeping pup, a terrier I think, that may not even have his eyes open yet. This is a cruel, cruel country for animals, and I will have much more disturbing, disgusting information a few paragraphs down.
But this part of the post is light-hearted: I went to Hami Mami's, the American-style brunch restaurant inside Club That, the downtown jazz club/bar. As I was leaving, I asked the cook, whose English is pretty good, "Where would you go to adopt a cat in Daegu?" She said that less than ten minutes before, a woman had been in, asking if she knew anyone looking to adopt a cat! I left my phone and email with a vague hope that they might call me and headed to the bus stop. Two blocks down, I realized I had left my Mets cap and turned back. When I returned, the cook said the woman had just called, was right downtown, and would be back in five minutes. (I know the universe tugging at my sleeve when I feel it.)
When the woman got there, we did some pidgin communicating (cats among the pidgins?) and she showed me online photos of four six-month-old cats, from the same litter, that her friend was fostering, street cats she had been feeding that had finally allowed her to pet them and pick them up. One of them is nearly an identical twin of JP, my beloved tiger cat who died 13 years ago. The cook translated for me that that one "is friends" with the orange one, and that "they are man". I told her I was very interested in taking the gray/brown tiger, and maybe his orange brother to keep him company, and she said someone would call by Sunday (today).
Later that day, Heeduk told me that landlords don't rent to people with pets, although if you sign the lease and just move in with pets unannounced, they can't do anything to you, as the leases don't have no-pets sections. (Apparently they're not familiar with the concept of the damage deposit.) The thought of the difficulties of moving with a cat in Korea, perhaps several times, and eventually returning to the States with them had my head saying it would be nuts to adopt one, and totally insane to get two. My heart wanted the company, though, and I went around and around with it.
This is what I found out on the Web on Saturday: though many Koreans love dogs, there is a folk belief that eating dog, in addition to being a great meal, is a cure for impotence. Also, they believe that if the dog is in horrible pain for a long time, it enhances the flavor and the potency, due to the adrenalin in its muscles. So dogs, especially big yellow dogs (which are considered especially tasty) are generally tortured to death. I won't go into details.
Cats, as a species, have it worse. Folk belief is that cats are devious, hateful animals, and strays are fair game. They are no laws protecting them, and Korean men especially (I read) enjoy killing them. I know that every single cat I've seen on the street slinks away when a person comes near. In addition to everything else, cat soup is considered a rheumatism remedy, and they are commonly stuck in a bag, smashed on the head, and, conscious or not, boiled alive.
I believe these things, because everyone has told me Koreans hate stray cats, these statements were posted by both Koreans and Westerners, and one posting had links to YouTube videos. I didn't watch them, of course.
At the moment, this country seems like a medieval third-world hellhole covered with a high-tech Samsung-LG-Hyundai veneer.
As you might guess if you know me at all, I could not not adopt a couple of cats after reading that information. Everything I believe in would be a lie if I didn't do so.
Today I got a call from a young woman who speaks excellent English and we made an appointment to meet at Club That this afternoon. I busied myself at E-Mart, buying food and supplies; there are a few people here who love cats, and the store's cat section if five or ten percent the size of its dog area.
When I got to Club That, two women were waiting, neither of whom spoke more than a few words of English. But within five minutes, Hyunjong, the young woman who had called me, arrived, and I heard the background information. There's a tiny, loose coalition of animal lovers in town who make it their business to TNR (trap, neuter, release) street cats. One of their friends, who was not there, had saved these four, paid to spay or neuter them, and has been feeding them for weeks.
After an interminable time over coffee, the four of us took the long drive to her house, where I met my new posse, my friends, my kids. Both the boys have rounded left ears, as Korean law says that the vet must clip the tip off the ear of a cat when it's neutered: it's against the law to harm a neutered cat, and the ear is how people recognize one (as if they would notice or care that it had been fixed.) I signed a contract saying that I would never be cruel to the cats or abandon them, paid 60,000 Won (a fraction of what she'd paid to get them neutered) and agreed that she could call periodically and come visit them to see that they're being treated well.
And so, eventually, Hyunjong and the two other women I'd met at Club That came back with me to my apartment, where we let the guys out of their carriers. That was three hours ago now, and they still haven't come out from under the couch. (After all, they're strays who had just learned to trust one person.) Once in awhile I hear a tribble noise. Sooner or later, they'll come out for food and we can begin bonding.
I know from experience that a cat has to grow into a name; the right names will come in a little bit. For the moment, I'm calling the brown-gray tiger Tug; it reminds me of the way JP would lie on his side and bat dry food to his face, and is the name of my favorite baseball player. The orange guy, for now anyway, is Tiki, after my favorite football player. Tug and Tiki: has a ring to it, I think, but maybe other names will present themselves.
I believe in spreading kindness and healing, though I have failed so many times to live up to it. This is one way I can act on what I believe in. I look forward to years of sharing my life with these guys. But first they have to come out from under the couch.
Update: bedtime, midnight, seven hours in: not yet.
I made a huge change in my life today, one that will affect me for many years: I have two cats now. I'd show you photos, but they've been here for two and a half hours and they haven't come out from under the couch yet.
On Friday, I thought I'd check out the little pet shops across town near the big Banwoldang intersection, just to see how much they charge for cats. (Ordinarily, I would never, ever buy an animal from a pet store, but there simply are no shelters here. None. Not one. And there's no way I, in my situation, could lure a stray and domesticate it.) Turns out that the pet shops just have dogs: tiny pups the size of your fist, from little breeds; the puppies are kept one per little plastic cubicle. There was one sleeping pup, a terrier I think, that may not even have his eyes open yet. This is a cruel, cruel country for animals, and I will have much more disturbing, disgusting information a few paragraphs down.
But this part of the post is light-hearted: I went to Hami Mami's, the American-style brunch restaurant inside Club That, the downtown jazz club/bar. As I was leaving, I asked the cook, whose English is pretty good, "Where would you go to adopt a cat in Daegu?" She said that less than ten minutes before, a woman had been in, asking if she knew anyone looking to adopt a cat! I left my phone and email with a vague hope that they might call me and headed to the bus stop. Two blocks down, I realized I had left my Mets cap and turned back. When I returned, the cook said the woman had just called, was right downtown, and would be back in five minutes. (I know the universe tugging at my sleeve when I feel it.)
When the woman got there, we did some pidgin communicating (cats among the pidgins?) and she showed me online photos of four six-month-old cats, from the same litter, that her friend was fostering, street cats she had been feeding that had finally allowed her to pet them and pick them up. One of them is nearly an identical twin of JP, my beloved tiger cat who died 13 years ago. The cook translated for me that that one "is friends" with the orange one, and that "they are man". I told her I was very interested in taking the gray/brown tiger, and maybe his orange brother to keep him company, and she said someone would call by Sunday (today).
Later that day, Heeduk told me that landlords don't rent to people with pets, although if you sign the lease and just move in with pets unannounced, they can't do anything to you, as the leases don't have no-pets sections. (Apparently they're not familiar with the concept of the damage deposit.) The thought of the difficulties of moving with a cat in Korea, perhaps several times, and eventually returning to the States with them had my head saying it would be nuts to adopt one, and totally insane to get two. My heart wanted the company, though, and I went around and around with it.
This is what I found out on the Web on Saturday: though many Koreans love dogs, there is a folk belief that eating dog, in addition to being a great meal, is a cure for impotence. Also, they believe that if the dog is in horrible pain for a long time, it enhances the flavor and the potency, due to the adrenalin in its muscles. So dogs, especially big yellow dogs (which are considered especially tasty) are generally tortured to death. I won't go into details.
Cats, as a species, have it worse. Folk belief is that cats are devious, hateful animals, and strays are fair game. They are no laws protecting them, and Korean men especially (I read) enjoy killing them. I know that every single cat I've seen on the street slinks away when a person comes near. In addition to everything else, cat soup is considered a rheumatism remedy, and they are commonly stuck in a bag, smashed on the head, and, conscious or not, boiled alive.
I believe these things, because everyone has told me Koreans hate stray cats, these statements were posted by both Koreans and Westerners, and one posting had links to YouTube videos. I didn't watch them, of course.
At the moment, this country seems like a medieval third-world hellhole covered with a high-tech Samsung-LG-Hyundai veneer.
As you might guess if you know me at all, I could not not adopt a couple of cats after reading that information. Everything I believe in would be a lie if I didn't do so.
Today I got a call from a young woman who speaks excellent English and we made an appointment to meet at Club That this afternoon. I busied myself at E-Mart, buying food and supplies; there are a few people here who love cats, and the store's cat section if five or ten percent the size of its dog area.
When I got to Club That, two women were waiting, neither of whom spoke more than a few words of English. But within five minutes, Hyunjong, the young woman who had called me, arrived, and I heard the background information. There's a tiny, loose coalition of animal lovers in town who make it their business to TNR (trap, neuter, release) street cats. One of their friends, who was not there, had saved these four, paid to spay or neuter them, and has been feeding them for weeks.
After an interminable time over coffee, the four of us took the long drive to her house, where I met my new posse, my friends, my kids. Both the boys have rounded left ears, as Korean law says that the vet must clip the tip off the ear of a cat when it's neutered: it's against the law to harm a neutered cat, and the ear is how people recognize one (as if they would notice or care that it had been fixed.) I signed a contract saying that I would never be cruel to the cats or abandon them, paid 60,000 Won (a fraction of what she'd paid to get them neutered) and agreed that she could call periodically and come visit them to see that they're being treated well.
And so, eventually, Hyunjong and the two other women I'd met at Club That came back with me to my apartment, where we let the guys out of their carriers. That was three hours ago now, and they still haven't come out from under the couch. (After all, they're strays who had just learned to trust one person.) Once in awhile I hear a tribble noise. Sooner or later, they'll come out for food and we can begin bonding.
I know from experience that a cat has to grow into a name; the right names will come in a little bit. For the moment, I'm calling the brown-gray tiger Tug; it reminds me of the way JP would lie on his side and bat dry food to his face, and is the name of my favorite baseball player. The orange guy, for now anyway, is Tiki, after my favorite football player. Tug and Tiki: has a ring to it, I think, but maybe other names will present themselves.
I believe in spreading kindness and healing, though I have failed so many times to live up to it. This is one way I can act on what I believe in. I look forward to years of sharing my life with these guys. But first they have to come out from under the couch.
Update: bedtime, midnight, seven hours in: not yet.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Mostly toasty
I feel better now. George arrived with two of the school's managers today (with a special guest appearance by George'e wife, Glory, as interpreter) to rig up my windows with heavy-gauge clear plastic. Now the ones in the two main rooms, including the one that doesn't close, are completely covered. They left enough materials that I can do the other, smaller ones if I want. Yeah, it was nice to be able to see out (the tinted inner sliding windows are behind the plastic), but I'll trade that for warmth and a bearable heating bill. All I could see was a school and a bunch of apartment high-rises, anyway.George also showed me how to use the thermostat. I know that sounds stupid, but there are three dials and four buttons (that have to be punched in just the right conjunction), and of course they're all in Korean. I also couldn't figure out where the heat comes in: no vents, no radiator, not a single luxury. Turns out the heat runs under the floor.
Anyway, it works; it was 14C (57F) in here this morning, but 20C (68F) tonight. (You'd be surprised how quickly you can shower and dress when it's that cold, you have no carpets, and you can't stand under the spray. Vern Troyer, I ain't.)
In other news, the fridge freezes everything: I have tomatoes the consistency of lacrosse balls. George says they'll get it fixed. The microwave hasn't worked for six weeks, but Heeduk's going to reimburse me for one I just got at E-Mart; my contract says they provide a nuker. (Bonus ego-lifter: I was able to tell the cabbie "Tongbu Chung Hak Kyo" -Tongbu Middle School- and get him to bring me home with my new Zapmater 3000!) And the way is clear for me to get a cat, if I decide to. Most landlords in Korea, including mine, have no problem with pets; I wouldn't get one if I had to ever abandon it. (A cat, not a landlord.)
I do think it would be nice to come home to somebody, especially in a warm home.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Who wants to be a frigidaire?
It's frickin' frigid, friends. The high temperature today is in the upper 30s F, but don't let that fool you; the wind cuts through like a ginsu knife. The windchill is in the mid-20s, but it's a damp cold, so it's worse. The windchill tonight will be in the teens. And it's only November.
It's not much better in the apartment. I've looked and looked and I can't see where the devil the heat's supposed to come in from. I have a thermostat, but nothing seems to get warmer when I adjust it. As you may remember, my windows slide but don't seal, and there's a two-inch gap to the outside to allow cables to come in. George from school is supposedly coming over tomorrow or Friday to help me put up plastic sheeting. I hope so. Right now, the pedestal heater will keep any one part of my body warm, as long as I'm within a foot of it.
At this point, I'm thinking that I can't eat any ramen soup because all the varieties contain meat, but I could soak my feet in some...
Friday, November 14, 2008
This is NOT good
...this is scary, and I feel so helpless about it:
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5iiDlfwqOC5I71KgFjzSBuany-hrAD94E73500
(Now I know why it's horribly smoggy even out in the countryside.)
See that tiny dash of white cloud running east to west, toward the southeast of Korea? I'm right on the right-hand tip of it.
No wonder I see a dozen people or more every day wearing face masks.
--
There's nothing amusing about that, but I've been meaning to post the number one song in Korea this year, so you can get an idea of K-pop and how so much popular culture throws in a few words of English.
So, to distract myself from the killer air, ladies and gentlemen, the Wonder Girls:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eptHTEnapH4&NR=1
...you can't go a block downtown without hearing this song blasting from a store.
--
I'm listless and achy with a cold, so a couple of links is all you get today. Sorry! At least I hope it's a cold...
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5iiDlfwqOC5I71KgFjzSBuany-hrAD94E73500
(Now I know why it's horribly smoggy even out in the countryside.)
See that tiny dash of white cloud running east to west, toward the southeast of Korea? I'm right on the right-hand tip of it.
No wonder I see a dozen people or more every day wearing face masks.
--
There's nothing amusing about that, but I've been meaning to post the number one song in Korea this year, so you can get an idea of K-pop and how so much popular culture throws in a few words of English.
So, to distract myself from the killer air, ladies and gentlemen, the Wonder Girls:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eptHTEnapH4&NR=1
...you can't go a block downtown without hearing this song blasting from a store.
--
I'm listless and achy with a cold, so a couple of links is all you get today. Sorry! At least I hope it's a cold...
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