Props to Jeju Air

The flight from ICN to CJU is a quick 50 minutes.   I awaken from my cozy, window-seat nap to the sound of cheery flight attendants.   Extra smiley, it seems they’re engaging the passengers with some sort of entertainment.  One attendant is donning a Mickey Mouse eared headband.  Another is holding a basket of what appears to be chocolates.  I don’t understand a lick of what they’re carrying on about, but it’s as though they’re saying something to the effect of:  “Ah, ladies and gentlemen, we are commemorating the n^th anniversary of the introductions of Mickey to Korea, so let us celebrate!!  If you pay attention and are swift with your clever responses, we will reward you with these cellophane-wrapped, boxed, gift-wrapped delicious waxy chocolates!!”   They seem to be explaining the rules of “rock-paper-scissors” or, as they say in Korea, “rock-scissor-paper”.  As if anyone on the plane would not have known the rules of this game since they were toddlers.  Here, it seems to be the common way to solve any sort of conflict:  who goes first, who gets the better seat, who gets to (you name it).  So they conduct the most expansive game of rock-scissor-paper that I’ve ever seen.  All of the passengers participate.  Game after game, there are great rounds of applause, and people are eliminated.  Finally, an individual seated toward the rear of the aircraft is deemed winner.  I didn’t see what prizes were handed out, but the game is over. 

I resume my rest against the bulkhead.  Moments later, I realize those silly crewmembers are up to something again.  One passenger is fishing through her belongings and pulls out a camera.  She hands it to the flight attendant who then takes a picture of the woman and the two other individuals sitting in her row.  The woman who fetched the camera is wearing a pilot’s cap; her two row-mates are wearing wigs of multi-colored clown hair.  The attendants are going from row to row, as if it were as standard as the complimentary beverage service, handing out props and offering to take photos.   I’ve seen a lot, but this was so randomly bizarre, I was laughing hysterically.  If only all people had as much fun as those who work in the service industries.  High-five to Jeju Air!  

For Fukuoka's sake...

A “visa run” is no amazing race, nor is it a beer run.  We had two days in Fukuoka, Japan to obtain our proper work visas (E-2 type) from the Korean consulate.  Any native English speaker likely wants to pronounce the first syllable of Fukuoka as that favorite, versatile, descript obscenity.  The closest I can describe its proper pronunciation is:  foo- COKE- ah.  So anyway, off we went to Fuck-ooh-uck-ah to get the magic sticker in the passport that allows one to work in Korea for one year. With all the visas I’ve acquired, the reasoning behind the processes to obtain them is still unclear.  My two beloved co-worker friends & I were required to take the trip, fully paid by our employer (lucky us). 

Day one:  go to the Korean consulate.  Give them the application, passport, a photo, and money (around $50 U.S.).  Check.  Done by early afternoon.  Next personal mission:  get to the nearest disc golf course before the sun goes down.  Donae had it in her to join me on what turned out to be an adventure.  This required us to figure out the ways of the ‘regular’ subway system, and then transfer to the ‘JR train’.  Check.  We got there with an hour of daylight to spare, yet the park was closed.  I’m talking ghost town.  We took advantage of the pleasant evening and strolled the coastal grounds of some luxurious resort-y hotel that, in this off-season, seemed abandoned.  We rounded up Stacey at the hotel and headed out for dinner.  Starving, we chose half a dozen menu items to share.  Easy-Bake Oven (as coined by Donae) was the best way to describe the dishes they brought out.  What they called “pizza” was a six-inch tortilla baked with a spoonful of cheeses and a few drops of pesto.  The Spanish omelet was served on a little soap dish, as were the edamame.  Because we are not size zero Japanese, we were still hungry.  Luckily, there was a convenient store conveniently located near our hotel so we could spend $20 on a few snacks. 

Day two:  find a place to have lunch and watch game six, before heading back to the consulate to pick up the passports.  With help from the hotel staff, we learned that all of the nearby pubs and sports bars would not open until dark.  But what do you know; they played the game on the lobby’s flat screen.  So we sat for the first few innings, long enough for everyone to get excited about Matsui’s outstanding performance that put NY in the lead.  For lunch, we dined at Hard Rock Café.  Not bad.  Back to the Korean consulate, our visas were done.  My passport is now full, not an empty page.  I’ve had a blast getting all of those stickers & stamps. At a nearby park, we rested before searching for a cup of coffee. 

To the Starbucks, we did succumb: a reliable brew in foreign lands.  Back to the airport for an overnight in Incheon where I’d meet up with a creative, adventurous friend I hadn’t seen in over three years.  After a satisfying dinner, we found a random rooftop for beer drinking, moon gazing, and nice conversation.  Ending the perfect evening, we made it to the subway just in time to catch the last train that would take us to our Guest House near the airport.  Another night away, then back to enjoy the last weekend before the teaching would begin.  

Day three:  Early morning brought us news of the shooting that had just occurred at Fort Hood.  Fukuoka.  Fukuoka.  For Fukuoka’s sake, don’t ever forget how lucky you are.  And when the day seems bad, when the demons crawl in, when you start to feel a little sorry for yourself… don’t ever forget… Life is Good.