Japan, again. Mudang, again.

The wireless is getting troublesome, looks like the one I experienced in Scotland - the signal's strenght was depending on the direction of the wind... yet another mistery for the geeks.
The ginger is finally over.





I wonder if the postman is afraid of the dogs or he just doesn't like the folks in our small settlement on the hill. Here is how parcels are delivered, something like 1 km from the first house. Yes, that thing on the ground -barely visible - is a parcel.

Few days ago I posted a scornful status on my FB profile about my trip to Japan. Scornful for the Nipp-otakus. This is my third trip to Japan this year and I go there just to drink a beer. Sounds nice, I go to Japan to drink a beer. And how does it sound if I say that I just hate such a waste of time, it will take me three days for that. And we have to fix the house for a friend that is getting married in weeks.
Back to the Nipp-otaku topic. I really laughed when I read the definition in the Urban Dictionary, it reminded me of... myself. And my son. How we avoided foreigners. Still, it was way way different (for me, I still suspect my son is true hardcore nipp-otaku). It was in Iwanuma, where else. There I didn't avoid just foreigners, I avoided all the "tourist volunteers" that came there just to show themselves. Mostly during the Golden Week. If I remember well it was the evening before the typhoon blew away half of the volunteer camp when we met some pretty Golden Week volunteer girls and we (Ramon and me) were introduced to them as Baka Gaijin and Baka Otosan, the crazy otakus from Sveronia. At the time I just gave up explaining that I'm no otaku. We've been there for almost two weeks, with only one proper bath in the time, so the pretty volunteers wisely decided it's time to intoduce us to their European friend, a true otaku from France. I don't remember if she is studying in Japan or working there, the point is that she speaks fluently Japanese and she knows everything about Japan. Probably more that the average Japanese does. She hated us from the first second. You dont speak Japanese? was her first question. You must be crazy to come here, was her first statement. At which we both laughed and Ramon showed her his shirt saying Baka Gaijin. She didn't understand what was so funny in our ignorance of the language, we knew. We've been working there, not conversating. She also didn't understand how we could came there only with a sleeping bag. We knew better, we have working hands and a will to help. Luckily we never saw her again. I tried to figure out how she felt. Like shit, that's for sure. You spend years in studying a language, you do everything possible (and sometimes impossible) to get to your dream country, you study (or work, I said I don't know) there and you do your best to be a Japanese more than they are - and then you meet two drunk idiots from Sveronia. That don't speak. Don't know how to behave. And are part of the community. That must be really frustrating. Oh, everyone was perfectly polite with her. She got all the respect for being a volunteer, even if only a golden week volunteer. Hm, not true. There were two volunteers who didn't respect her at all, but I guess we don't count. Does that make me also a Nipp-otaku? I don't think so. It makes her stupid, even more than her knowledge of geography (it was the first time I've heard that Austria is an Eastern Europe country).




Present time. Korea. It's summer again. Shorts and T-shirts, maybe something warmer in the evening. The insects also agree it's summer. Flies and mosquitos are swarming. Today I met another mudang, a Korean shaman lady. This one has no clue, she didn't realize at first sight that I'm a reincarnated Korean like the Gangwon do one did. But it was a nice session of astrology and fortune telling. Guess what, I'll be happy and will get married and have a house. Here, of course. As a mind reader she's a win, she told me just what I wish. For my health she was just a fail. As for my past... well, the sceptic in me keeps telling me that she gave so broad statements and general things that everyone could find himslef in. On the other hand the time limits she used weren't really that broad. Telling me the years when I was "out of my mind". Telling me when my relation broke. The ending win was when she told me that my ancestors were leading me to come here, first to Korea and later to this place. For me this was the aknowledgement about my reincarnation. For I surely know that my loved late father (and grandfather and so on) from Sveronia would prefer me being there and work the family vineyards, like my brother does. So it was my Korean ancestors that brought me here. Yet... maybe my dad changed his mind and he's helping me to be where I'm happy. I know he still cares about me.

Of Ginger And Rice

This time's gonna be more pictures than text. Not much to say and it's also my time for depression.

It was a week signed by ginger. Pick the ginger, clean the ginger, wash the ginger, peel the ginger, wash the ginger, slice the ginger, mince the ginger, cook the ginger.

And we made some half ton of ginger tea, next Monday we go on. Today was rice day. Yesterday we spread the rice on nets on a huge parking lot under the Hwangmae Mountain.

Since we didn't have really much to do today it was a good time to repair the nets.

And to drink beer and cook ramyon.

And play baseball.

And take a walk in the surrounding valleys.

And have some yoga in the late afternoon.

And finally bag all the rice and load it on the truck.

And drink some soju for dinner.

The Catalyst

Catalysis is the change in rate of a chemical reaction due to the participation of a substance called a catalyst. Unlike other reagents that participate in the chemical reaction, a catalyst is not consumed by the reaction itself. Maybe I'm a Catalyst. Today I've heard the third wedding announcement since I'm here.
I may not be consumed by this reactions around me, but I'm feeling a bit sad. No, nothing to do with weddings, for sure, they make me happy. Yesterday I've got here a few neighbors in the afternoon for coffee. Since I received some real (and really good coffee) my place became very popular among the ladies from the surroundings. It was a rainy day so we took our time, slowly sipping the hot Turkish coffee and appreciating the lokum. It was good for my brains since I was suffering from an epic hangover and when they told me the news that a young family is moving away it didn't really improved my state. It's the family of the little chap riding his bamboo stick. To make me feel really bad was the statement that they haven't been invited for any of my banquets. True, I've been never doing the invitations part, it was always someone else who did it in my name, but I felt bad the same. They asked me if there is any chance to have a goodbye dinner in my place in the near future and I just said "Today. At seven." I knew a busy week is coming with ginger tea making so that was the best chance. I had four hours but it was more than enough. Nothing complicated, two types of pasta, two different sauces. Some sesame seeds and oregano chapati to dip in ssamjang, eggplants with garlic and hot peppers, eggs with onion and kimchi and kaktugi (thanks to kind 영란 씨 ).

The little chap (I keep calling him like that because I'm not sure I got his name properly; better be that little chap than something stupid) was just crazy about my spaghetti with garlic and chilli and oil - a completely new recipe because I was out of olive oil and used sesame oil instead. Absolutely deliciousous, I agreed with him.

And my oh my is he cute!

His dad invited me to visit them when they will be settled. I was told he is a great cook so I'm really loking forwart to it. Just hope that they're not going too far away.
Eventually I made another friend like him today - only way younger. After the friends who told me about their near wedding left, I went back to my persimmon jam cooking when I heard some laughter and calling my name. Female voices, to be sure. I greeted them saying "I bet you're here just because of my good coffee!" So it was. Only no more lokum. We tried some cinnamon flavored coffee instead. And he became another great fan of my beard:

Now, I really love coffee time and chit chat with all these ladies. I only pray that I'll never receive a visit from a bunch of enraged husbands.