#TTOT=Travel Talk on Twitter

Every Tuesday afternoon, I try to get on #TTOT. Although I have participated only a few times. I so far enjoy the chats with fellow wanderers who I’ve never met in person.

When @the_HoliDaze introduced #TTOT to me a few months ago, I was like, huh? But soon, I learned, it’s like a huge AOL chat room with no limits in the number of people joining. Each week, people participate in the discussion answering five questions on a selected topic, or just by reading others’ answers and retweeting them. It’s a great way to meet the like-minded, virtually.

Another thing I like about the #TTOT is that I get to travel back to the time when I was traveling, while answering the questions given for the day’s session. My travel memories are usually stored in my computer’s “Pictures” folder or inside my diaries and blogs. And I live every day, more often thinking about where to go, rather than looking back where I have been to.

The #TTOT sessions make me look up the photos and diaries and help me remember what I felt back then. Memories I have for some events have sometimes changed over time, and a few times what I remember and what I actually felt at the very moment are different.

And I found a piece of memory today.

This week’s topic was accommodations, and the second question of the day was: Share a picture of the best view from a hotel room? Then this photo crossed my mind, which I had totally forgot about for years.

View from my hotel room in Saint-Gervais-les-Bains

Then, I wasn’t sure if it was a hotel, or a cabin (as I certainly remembered wood walls), not to mention the name. I just remembered it was right in front of the train station of the small village and it had a trolley car on the rail in its backyard.In 2004, Heywiz, who was then living in Paris, and I had decided to spend a weekend in Chamonix Mont Blanc. As we couldn’t get an affordable room in the town as it was a peak ski season, we got a room in Saint-Gervais-les-Bains, which is not far from Mont Blanc by train.

So, I started googling after failing to retrieve my email exchanges with Heywiz. And I found the hotel, or chalet, finally!: Chalet Hotel la Maison Blanche.

And then, everything came back to me so vividly: The cool morning breeze when we walked around the village; the smell of the bread that’s just out of oven from a local bakery; the locally-produced herb drink we had in Mont Blanc; that we had to run to the station to catch the last train to Saint-Gervais to find the train got delayed… all the fun times.

Thanks, #TTOT.

I love traveling solo but not always

If you’ve read Who’s this Wanderer, you would know how I fell in love with traveling: By traveling alone.

When traveling solo, I can be completely free, and can get mingled with local people and fellow travelers more easily. After cutting the ribbon in Canada, I traveled to Australia, Norway, Thailand, USA, and Denmark by myself, and even though I stayed at my friends’ places in France, Japan and Hong Kong, I often traveled alone. I really enjoy it.

But today’s NYTimes article, Single in the Caribbean, reminded me of one of few moments that I wasn’t happy about traveling alone: When I was on the beautiful beach of Koh Nangyuan, Thailand.

It was November of 2008 when I finally crossed off Koh Nangyuan from my to-visit list. For years, I’d longed for visiting the island, where three islets are connected with sand beaches. When I had a long-enough vacation, I chose the island for the destination without a second thought. I didn’t mind such a long trip only to get there: Flew from Seoul to Bangkok; stayed overnight at the Bangkok airport (spent an hour or so getting massage); flew to Koh Samui the following morning; stayed overnight (in fact two nights) at a local accommodation; and took a two-hour boat to Koh Nangyuan.

Koh Nangyuan - when it's peaceful

It was afternoon when I got to the island, and it was quiet, which I loved. Only a handful people were staying at the resort (the only resort in the island). I was very excited to be there finally and was ready to enjoy the serenity. But the following morning, I woke up only to find dozens of couples flocking into the island. Apparently, it was a popular day-trip destination among honeymooners, who’re staying in Koh Samui or Koh Phangan. All of sudden, the resort was packed with hearts.

When the honeymooners started taking over the beaches.

I found a spot, distant from the crowd. I enjoyed napping, reading, and sunbathing on the beautiful beach, but at a corner. I couldn’t help feeling driven to the corner because I was all by myself. And I have to admit, I felt extremely lonely. (Even the resort’s scuba diving trainers were an item!)

It wasn’t just the beach time that made me feel like a third wheel. The lunch time! Eating alone among all love-full couples at a resort seemed, umm, pathetic. It felt like everyone was glimpsing at me thinking ‘what is she doing here alone?’ (I doubt anyone has actually paid any attention to me, but you know, you become timid in such surroundings.)

So, to hide my sort-of embarrassment or to pretend that I was cool with being alone, I scribbled something in my journal, almost staring at my notepad, while eating. Then, one of the waiters, who knew I was the resort customer and nearly the only one I talked with during the entire three days of staying, came to me and asked.

“Are you a writer?”
Well, I was a newspaper reporter, so it’s not wrong.
“Sort of,” I said.
“What do you write? Novel?”
“No. I’m a journalist. But now I’m just writing about my trip.”
“Oh I thought you’re a novelist or a poet as you came here ALONE, and you seem to write ALL the time.”

At that moment, I really wished I were one. It seemed like that’s the only way to make my being alone at a beach resort made sense, at least to the waiter from Indonesia.

I’ve been to beaches alone a few other times: several beaches in Australia, including the Airlie and the Herbie, and in the states, including one in St. Augustine, FL. And I was completely fine with it. I didn’t feel lonely at all.

But a beach resort? It’s a completely different story, for sure. Since then, I’ve been determined to not go to a resort by myself. Never again.

Perhaps I should try the Club Med?

Happy Lunar New Year!

It’s Lunar New Year, and it’s one of the biggest holidays in Korea as in China and some other Asian countries.

Traditionally, all the extended family members get together, make the holiday food like mandu together, do the ritual to the ancestors, make a deep bow to the elders in the family, and play traditional games. These days, however, not everyone goes back home; some buy food at discount stores; and others refuse to have a ritual for religious reasons. But there’s one thing that hasn’t changed yet and would probably never change: We eat ddeokguk on the New Year’s day.

Ddeokguk, roughly translated as "rice cake soup," is a soup with thinly sliced white rice cake, and egg, gim(seaweed), and marinated beef garnishes.

“Did you have ddeokguk?” is a common greeting during the season. And eating ddeokguk, one “officially” gets one year older. When I was young, I remember, my neighbors used to ask me “How many ddeokguk have you had?” instead of asking “How old are you?” (Now thinking of it, I wonder why they don’t use that expression any more, at least to me. Hmmm.)

So, I had ddeokguk today, and I am one year older than yesterday.

Speaking of which, Korean age system is different from most of the rest of the world. In Korea, as soon as you’re born, you’re already one year old as we count the nine or ten months in mom’s womb as life (and we round it up). AND on Jan. 1, you get another year. (Thankfully, you don’t get another on your birthday in Korea. lol)

In theory, if you’re born on Dec. 31, you become two on your second day of being born. (But we usually count by days, weeks or months until a baby celebrates its one-year birthday, which is called dol, so no one would call a two-day baby two years old in this case.)

So, Korean age is always one or two years older than in other countries. Confusing, huh? But to make it more confusing, we do also count age as others do, that is referred as man[mahn], roughly “in full.” The man age is used for something very official as in newspapers, government documents, and regulations.

So, how old am I? Which one would you like to know? (Not that I’m going to tell you. *wink*)

Happy Lunar New Year!!

+ My rather simple recipe

0. Soak thinly sliced ddeok, or rice cake specially made for the dish, in water for about an hour. Drain right before making ddeokguk.
1. Boil water with anchovies and kelp to make broth.
2. Take them out of the pot.
3. Add the soaked ddeok to the boiling broth.
4. When the ddeok floats above the water, it’s ready to go.

While waiting for the ddeok to float, prepare egg and gim, or dried seaweed, garnishes:

1. Egg garnish: Separate an egg and whisk them. Pour them separately on a heated pan, you know, just as you would do to make crepe. When they’re cooked, slice them into thin strips.
2. Gim garnish: Roast a sheet of gim and cut it into thin strips.

(Many people have beef garnish as well, but I’m simply not a big fan of meat-in-da-soup.)

Christmas gift I will never forget

Tis the season. I went to a local market in Seoul and bought a small Christmas tree. Although my family is Catholic, we don’t really celebrate it. I can’t remember when I had an xmas tree at home last time. We don’t exchange gifts. (I think they gave me gifts until I become a teen.) In fact, in S. Korea, Christmas is more for couples and friends, rather than a family, or a religious day. To my family, it was just another day, or a good day-off. In some years, I even worked on Christmas day, as newspapers should be published the following day.

So, Christmas wasn’t a big thing to me. Until I spent the season in San Pedro la Laguna, Guatemala, in 2009. I was traveling the country during the winter vacation. And in Guatemala, Christmas is a huge thing. Tons of fireworks, or bombas, were shot up to the sky even during the daytime. The family gathers, and goes to church (The biggest church in town was packed and some people had to attend the Mass outside the church.), and around the midnight, fireworks reaches the peak. As every town around the lake does the firework, it’s quite something to see the blistering colors reflected to the lake.

I was standing near the lake, looking up the sky, enjoying the atmosphere. It was beautiful but at the same time I missed home, my family and my friends, looking at the people around me. Besides me, everyone else was with family and friends. All the kids of the family living next to my homestay house were also around the lake, shooting up their own fireworks. When it hit 12, everyone hugged each other.

Then, a teenage boy walked to me, and gave me a hug. “¡Feliz Navidad!” He turned to his family and shrugged off to them who had been watching me curiously. Then, everyone of them came to me for the Christmas hug. Some very young, shy kids barely hugged me and ran away to hide behind their parents. Cuties. My heart was full of warmth, and my eyes welled up.

Gracias por el gran regalo de Navidad!

taking photos vs. being taken in photos

A new South Korean TV channel, Channel A, broadcast a three-part program of Greenland. I watched its third episode that featured Qaanaaq, and that reminded me of a Korean, the first Korean I met in Greenland, in July.

She’s living in NJ, USA, and went to Greenland to take photos to update her portfolio, she said. She initially went to Thule, or Qaanaaq in Greenlandic, but soon found the living cost there was too high. She told the hotel manager where she was staying in Thule that she may have to go back to the states, as she couldn’t afford it. Then the manager told her that he could arrange a dog-sledding to Siorapaluk, the world’s northernmost settlement, before she leaves the country. So  the following day, she hopped on the sled and ran for eight hours in the teeth of the freezing wind on the sled to reach that small settlement.

But two days after her arrival, her camera got broken as it wasn’t proof against the arctic weather. And that’s the very moment that the residents opened up to her, she said.

“When I was walking around with the camera, I could tell, they were giving me a wary look,” she said. “But as soon as I told them my camera got broken, they almost immediately opened up to me.”

She ended up staying in the settlement for three months. They rented her an old school house for $1 a day; they invited her to their houses; and embraced her as a member of the community.

Loads of foreigners come to the town and film/photograph their lives under the name of “reports.” But it may have felt like being the monkey in a zoo to them, and they protested it by unwelcoming the point-and-shoot visitors.

I could completely empathize with them, because that afternoon, I had a similar experience. In the residents’ shoe.

That morning, a cruise ship arrived in Nuuk and unloaded about 200 passengers–mostly Europeans–to the capital of Greenland. A German cameraman came to Greenland to film each town the cruise ship visits, and I took him around Nuuk as a guide. Waiting for him to finish filming the beach, I was sitting on top of a kayak wooden rack, looking at the fjord, listening to the iPod. Then a tourist came to me and gestured if he could take a photo of me. This European must have thought that I was a Greenlander. I told him in English that I’m not from Greenland, but he kept fiddling with his camera, looking at me. You know, in the cute cat eyes in Shrek. So, I climbed down the rack and moved to another place.

While traveling around the world, I myself also try to get the local residents’ everyday life in my camera. But I realized I’d never been to the subject, until then.

It was an unfamiliar, strange feeling. Not so pleasant.

Most of the time, I ask for the approval from the people who I’d like to take photos of. But I realized I did it as a courtesy and I hadn’t really put myself in their shoes.

Have you ever been the target of camera-wielding tourists? If so, what did you feel about it? If not, how would you feel about it?

Everything about Edison

A S.Korean TV program, called ’2 Days and 1 Night,’ featured today the Charmsori Gramophone & Edison Science Museum, which is in Gangneung. I was very glad to see it on TV. I’ve been to the museum twice–once back in 2006, when the collections were sitting in huge container houses, and again in 2009, when they moved to the current museum. Still, it’s unbelievable that one single person collected so many things of Edison.

If you come to S. Korea, it’s really worth to visit.

Here, I share the feature story I did 5 years ago for a local daily newspaper about the museum and the collector.

Phonographilia: A collector amasses everything Edison

August 04, 2006 – GANGNEUNG, Gangwon – The song “El Capitan” was blaring from a 156-year-old music box, its needle dipping into the holes in the huge polyphone record that spun around in the tall walnut tree box (it stands 2.75 meters, or 99 inches, tall). A group of people stood listening – many, perhaps, wondering if they had suddenly been transported into an old black-and-white film. The polyphone was produced by a German company in the 1850s and now it is in a small temporary building, next to a three-building museum in a remote town of Korea: Charmsori Gramophone & Edison Museum.

The guide took the visitors into the museum and showed off a phonograph invented in the early 1900s. “This one was developed with volume control,” he said, and opened the doors of the box, making it louder, then closing them again to “turn down” the volume – that got a laugh from the group.

The museum, currently located in the middle of an apartment complex, is packed with all kinds of old phonographs, including tinfoil (the song is recorded on tinfoil instead of plastic), cylinder, turntable, duplex (two-horned) and portable ones. It also holds a catalog of inventions by Thomas Edison (1847-1937), including his first and only remaining socket lamp fixture, patented in 1879; his stock ticker, invented in 1871; the first motion picture for educational use, invented in 1888; his mimeograph from 1890; his electric battery car of 1913, and other machines related to audio and video. The guide added that there are more items, packed in four storehouses. One amazed visitor asked who had collected all of them. “Son Sung-mok, the president of this museum, has collected all of them for over the last 45 years, all by himself,” the guide replied. “This museum is privately owned, not belonging to the government.”

Mr. Son, originally from Wonsan, South Hamgyong province, said that when he was young, his mother would play the piano while he sang next to her. She also used a phonograph, so their home was always filled with the sounds of music, he added. But things changed when his mother passed away when he was five. “Kids teased me and didn’t play with me just because I didn’t have a mother,” he said. His father, who ran a department store at the time, saw him playing alone in a corner of a playground and, feeling sorry for him, bought the boy a portable phonograph.

“From that small machine, I heard my mother’s voice, and it gave me a lot of comfort, as if I were in her bosom,” Mr. Son said, adding that the kids who shunned him gathered around when he played the phonograph.

During the Korean War, his family had to evacuate and move down to the South. When the then six-year old boy carried the 12-kilogram (26.5-pound) phonograph, a Columbia G241, on his back, his father scolded him for not taking food or other necessities. The young Mr. Son, however, would not give up the phonograph – the first in what would become an extensive collection.

When he was 14, his uncle brought him a broken phonograph. After staying up all night trying to fix it, he said, he finally heard sound coming from its horn. The feeling was rapturous.

“It was then that I started collecting phonographs,” Mr. Son said. Until now he has collected more than 4,500 phonographs, 1,500 radios and TV sets, 10,000 items related to Edison, and 90,000 records. “All of the items are still working. That’s my major criterion when I buy one. It needs to be working, otherwise it’s just for decoration,” said Mr. Son. For that reason, he says, his museum is “alive.”

Each item in his collection is like his child, Mr. Son said, and each one brings to mind a different memory.

One item is an American Phonograph, a coin-fed machine that has 12 four-minute cylinders, produced by American Phonograph Co. in the early 1900s. The company produced only six of the devices; Mr. Son’s is the only one left. According to Mr. Son, it belonged to a rich man in Argentina until the mid-1940s, when its ownership transferred somehow to a man called Mackintosh. Mr. Son visited the man several times, but couldn’t meet him until August 1985, when the phonograph was put on the auction block in that country. On the way to Argentina to participate in the auction, Mr. Son was robbed in New York and shot in the shoulder. Even still, he managed to go to Argentina and won the auction after competing with 53 phonograph collectors from around the world. “I can’t forget the moment I finally won the auction. I was thrilled and so happy I shouted and hugged the stranger who was next to me,” said Mr. Son. It took about six months to bring the phonograph to the museum.

Often the cost of shipping an object is several times what it costs to buy the object in the first place. “A few years ago, I bought a very old TV set for $180 from a 70-year-old lady living in a remote town in Ohio State. It cost $5,800 to move it to a bigger city, and another $7,000 to bring it to Korea,” Mr. Son recalled.

Having been a collector for over 45 years now, executives at shipping companies and auctioneers recognize him. “When Mr. Son arrives in the United States, a staff member at UPS (the shipping company) is dispatched just for him,” said Yun Jong-ig, a manager of the museum. The staff member follows Mr. Son around, packages whatever he adds to his collection and ships it to Korea.

Auction houses such as Sotheby’s send Mr. Son their catalogs regularly and let him know if an old phonograph is on the market. “When I first collected phonographs, I made a lot of mistakes, such as buying fake ones,” said Mr. Son. “But now, I can tell if it’s real or not, just by looking at the photos.

“As a collector, however little I paid for the fake, I still felt really bad. The feeling was worse than when I paid a lot more than the reasonable price for the genuine one,” said Mr. Son.

His collection was at first limited to sound-related items such as phonographs and speakers. But he became interested in Thomas Edison, the inventor of the phonograph, and his interest carried over to Edison’s inventions, such as lights, motion pictures, coffee pots, electric fans and heaters. Then Mr. Son got interested in other items from Edison’s era and started collecting them, as well.

“I collected them, but they aren’t mine. A museum is a place that shows a nation’s cultural level and I think my museum should teach history to students for generations,” he said. He added that he would be willing to donate the collection to the government, as long as it establishes a foundation to take care of the collection and a museum big enough to contain all the pieces. “It’s a pity that there isn’t a place big enough to display the collection and old valuable parts of human history are placed in dark, humid, packed storage,” Mr. Son said. The collection isn’t insured, because it’s hard to appropriate its value, and that value would in any case be too much to cover for either Mr. Son or an insurance company.

With the help of the Gangneung city government, however, a new there-story building covering 1,150 square meters is being built in front of Lake Gyeongpo in Gangneung to serve as a museum. IT is scheduled to open in early September and will cover the history of recorded sound from the phonograph to the DVD, Mr. Son said. But he said that even the new building will still be too small to display his entire collection, and that he’s planning to create a museum complex in the area that would have separate museums for the phonographs, Edison’s inventions, a children’s museum and one for household goods.

Museums in Japan and China have requested that Mr. Son hold special exhibitions in their nations. He so far has refused. “To be honest, I really want to hold an international exhibition first in the United States, Edison’s home country,” he explained.

“I heard that Edison once said that he wanted to live for 300 years because there were many things he wanted to invent,” Mr. Son said. “I wish I could live for 500 years, because there are so many things I want to collect.”

[Korea JoongAng Daily]

Communicating with the deaf in a language I don’t know much of

7 Things You’ll Learn About Yourself by Moving Abroad reminded me of my experience in Antigua, Guatemala, although I didn’t move there.

I spent three weeks in Guatemala—10 days in San Pedro la Laguna, the other 10 days in Antigua—during the winter vacation of 2009-2010 to study Spanish. I enrolled to Spanish language schools there, and did homestay with local families. In Antigua, I was living with a big family whose three generations live under the same roof. And two of the family members were deaf: Maria, a patissier, and Freddy, a painter.

Rest of the family members were busy with their own businesses and I was always left with the two. Precisely, Maria was the one who was assigned to prepare my meals, and we three almost always had dinner together, a few times with their parents. Maria and Freddy could hear with a hearing aid, not clearly though. Most of the time, they read my lips. And along with the sign language, they could convey their thoughts in voice, again not clearly.

Until then, I hadn’t had a chance to communicate with the deaf. But now, I got to live  with two for 10 days. Although my basic Spanish that I had learned at college almost 10 years before was coming back as I spent 10 days in San Pedro before Antigua, my Spanish wasn’t any good. I really didn’t know what to do, or how to communicate with them who only understand Spanish that I’m not good at, when the communication itself can be a challenge.

At first, it was difficult to understand what they’re trying to say. But as I got used to the way they say, I realized the fact that they have troubles in talking and hearing didn’t really matter. Our communication difficulties weren’t any bigger than those from the simple language barrier, like the one I had with the local family I lived with in San Pedro. Probably it was smaller, as I became paying more attention to the people who I was talking with. And I was still learning new words from them.

One day I asked her about what she made the soup with. “Zanahoria,” she said. I made my face puzzled, asking what zanahoria means. She made hand gestures of rabbit ears, saying something. Frankly, I wouldn’t have understood her even if she was a perfect talker. So, I took it as rabbit, and thought she put rabbit meat in the soup. “Que?! Rabbit?!” I jumped out of the chair, with my eyes wide open. She laughed out loud, waiving her hands. She almost fell to the ground, laughing. Then she acted as if she was eating something, saying conejo something. Ah, the thing that rabbit eats! Carrot! Finally! Since she has called me conejo.

At another time, she told me that there was a Korean boy in town when she was young. He was handsome and she liked him. She got lost contacts with him and missed him, she said. I couldn’t bring him back to her, but I could at least take her to a Korean restaurant instead. So, one of my last days in Antigua, we went to the only Korean restaurant in town, with Freddy. I ordered sundubu jjigae, bibimbap, and spicy pork bbq, and explained them the food, in Spanish, in all available ways, including drawing. And they seemed to have understood what I was saying.

After the meal, we walked around the city, and they decided to be my tour guide. They showed me around the church where Freddy’s paintings are hung, and an old castle now used as a museum. They tried to tell me as much as they could, and I tried to learn as much as I could.

Certainly, ”communication is much more than just the words we say” and beyond the speaking/hearing ability.