Journal Entry Day 2

Continuing this mock journal series. A fictional account of adventures in Southeast Asia.

It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon when humid air hit my lungs and sunshine touched my pale skin. I explained to cab driver after cab driver, that I had a ride, that I knew where I was going, that I did not need to be bothered. Thailand has beautiful beaches and ethically challenged public transport drivers. To curtail this, the Thai government setup an English booth where they would translate your destination to the driver. They tell you a price to expect to pay in an effort to avoid the infamous Thai runaround. There's a phone number to tattle tale on the driver, if anything is suspicious. Of course, as with anything governmental, there wan an inefficient, long line.

It must of been the sunshine, because the sleepless flight was not rearing its head mentally. Physically, I had bags under my eyes, that you could ski down. And Pobby, the driver was quick to let me know, "You look sick." "Do you have swine flu." Anyway, that's what I think he said. The rest of the exchange went something like this:

Me: Bobby, do you think I have swine flu? (note: Many Asians, especially in Korea, have English nicknames to make it easier on foreigners. They seem to like these names as well, that's why I thought his name was Bobby.)
Pobby: Pobby, Pobby.
Me: Javy? (English can be very hard to understand...)

Pobby was now showing obvious displeasure in our inability to get past the most rudimentary of conversations. Giving up on having a conversation on my health, Pobby worked through the adversity and said, "Like Bobby, but P." Check mate. "Pobby!!!" I yelled, bringing a smile to his sweaty face. Thailand is known as the land of smiles. I know this due to Pobby's reckless tailgating. Being mere feet from a cab in front of us, I could easily make out the bumper sticker on the car in front of us. When Pobby ran the red light, well, that's when I started to cheer. Cheaper taxi rates are truly one of life's little pleasures.

Getting took advantage of; however, is one of the worst things. Pobby, not worried about any foreigner reporting him, pulled into a filling station off the highway. Pobby handed the gas station clerk, a man that checked in at about 5 feet, all the money in his hand, which totaled less than three dollars. And, in that moment, I became confused. This should not happen, I thought. On the other hand, it was only for a minute, and the meter might of gone up fifty cents. Poor Pobby is probably down to his last smoke judging by the bent and weightless pack of Marlbaro Reds. I can't say anything. He only put three dollars in the cab.

"Pobby, no more red light running, okay?" Yes, Yes, we almost out of gas back there," he said, flashing a million dollar grin, that let me know that this vacation was not about sweating the small stuff.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving really crept up on me this year. I didn't even know it was turkey day until about two o'clock in the afternoon! Last year, if you can recall, Meg and I went to Outback Steakhouse with another friend to get a little taste from home. It wasn't a turkey dinner, but how can you ever go wrong with steak? Since Thanksgiving is all about tradition, Meg and I set out to repeat that feat. Outback steakhouse happens to be two subway stops away from where I live. Once again we were treated to some fantastic fillets, cheerful service, and a taste of home. We followed that up with a walk on the beach. I love this place. Here is a Korean commercial for Outback:

My Training Week

If you're not interested in a couple of paragraphs dedicated to how much my life sucked last week, then spare yourself ten minutes and skip this entry. Consider yourself warned.

When your leaving your country/home for a year, your health is not a big priority. In fact, it doesn't make the list. Up at the top of that list, is hanging out with friends and family, and that's exactly what I did. I ended up in Manhattan on a Saturday night with the intention of tying one on, and believe it or not, when you set out to tie one on, you do it rather easily. With my immune system hammered drunk the next day, I was vulnerable to all the elements.

Everybody should be aware by now of the hardships of flying in a single aircraft for over 10 hours. I certainly am. I wasn't aware; however, of flying for over 10 hours sick with the flu. Let's just save some space and say it was crappy.

The next five days was spent either in a training room or in my hotel room studying. It was seriously as intense as finals week back at Mizzou. I took four written tests, listened to seminar after seminar on teaching techniques, and I taught using the techniques that were given to us. Basically, it felt like a real job. It felt like I'm getting old and have some responsibility in my life. I just wish I felt good while attending this hell week. Instead, I was trying hard not to cough up a lung. I was trying not to sneeze nuclear yellow snot all over myself. These were not the ideal circumstances.

They don't really tell you this when you're in America; they just gloss right over it. They tell you that 87% of the people that come to training end up with jobs, but they didn't tell you that training was in essence an extended job interview. An interview that could theoretically cost me up to 1300 dollars (the cost of a round trip ticket), if it didn't go well. Fortunately for me it went well, and I was offered the job. If you're interested in the grammar part of my test, check out a few of the items that were covered on my test. (this was a portion of our study guide)

Subject and Verb Agreement

Conditional Verb Forms

Dependant Clauses

Parallel Structures

Story Time

I was in Southeast Asia for five weeks. The time frame is too long for me to write about in my normal way. I need to write about just the specific events, which sounds easy enough. The only problem is I cannot write that way. I don't know why. I'm going to write a fictional journal based on some of my stories/experiences.

Day 1

Flying is not much fun, period. Flying to the other side of the world, across the Pacific, across 12 time zones is going to be dreadful. I'm standing in an international "que" in the Big D. From the city of fountains to Dallas, Texas, took two hours, now I have a three hour layover here in George Bush's state. Big must be the motto of Texas, because they have big stadiums, big trucks, and BIG people. "Everything is bigger in Texas." Observing obscenely obese people standing stationary on moving walkways with high fructose corn syrup pumping through their veins, one hand holding a soda the other candy as if they're at the movies. This cringing sight will make you want to get the hell out of Texas. Yet, as far as my journey goes, the bigness of Dallas is perfect, after all this is the biggest trip of my life.

Traveling in a plane from Dallas to Bangkok, Thailand will be awful, and there's just no way around it. 18 and a half hours spent on a plane with crying babies, sniffling ill, and complainers does not make for an enjoyable day. My only chance for salvation happens to be the Nyquil pills in my pocket. I hope the six pills I popped do the trick. I already missed out on the airline carrier since I'm flying American. American Airlines home of the most 50 year old washed up, working women in the world. These women literally hate stewarding, but are still there thanks to unions and other "rights" supplied to them by "progressive" thinkers. 45 year old men can thank those progressive thinkers as well. These aren't my ideal flight attendants. That certainly includes Thor, a gay man about the age of 50 who was just a little too friendly if you catch my drift.

These were not the faces of American Airlines in the 50's or 60's, and these are not the faces of the airline carriers occupying Asia. I'd do anything to fly Korean Air and not just for the free booze they provide. The stewardesses are beautiful, gracious, caring, and not a day older than 35. Although, Asians age well, so they could be much older. Oh well, American Airlines be damned, I'll be on the beautiful beaches of Thailand soon enough.

Entry Part Two Day 1

Despite six usually knock me on my ass pills, no crying babies, a dark, quiet cabin, and a small passenger sound asleep next to me I still can't sleep. Oh, it's so frustrating. The excitement of my future undertakings are at epic proportions. I want to do it all: eat delicious, fresh food right from a street vendor, play sand volleyball on some of God's best beaches, chat/drink with people from all over the world, seek out hidden, off the map tourist treasures, head to the cheesiest tourist attractions, and ride an elephant. I've wanted to ride an elephant my whole life. This will be the holy grail of my vacation. With five weeks at my disposal dispersed amongst only two countries, I should have ample time to accomplish that feet.

For the past three months, I've lived at home, with my parents, with no car, no phone, no bed, and no life. I'm ready for adventure. I'm ready for freedom. I'm ready for Asia.

Thailand

This has got to be fast, because it's expensive. I'm alive and well. I can't stop going to the bathroom. It seems that in Thailand soap is even more of a luxury than in Korea. That problem aside, I've been having a blast.

We did the mayabay camping trip. We've gone snorkeling three times. We've seen the best beaches in the world. We've been on long boats, speed boats, and ferries. We've ate great food. We've stayed in crummy places. We've kayaked. We've swum with Nemo, aka clownfish. We've read books, sipped cocktails and fruit shakes, and played all while on the beach.

Traveling in Thailand is stress free. They hold your hand threw thw whole process. It has been a breeze. I will update later.

The Carnival

A Korean carny is as awesome as you would expect.* I once had an incident involving the Octopus in an American carnival. If you don't know what ride the Octopus is you really need to get out more. It might be the most ubiquitous carny ride.* Basically, I learned you can't trust a carny worker with random patches of hair scattered throughout his Oklahoma City sun burnt face. He's far more interested in creeping out any high school girls coming his way than looking out for the safety of a child. Besides, he has to smoke another red and look cool in his wife beater, who cares about the kid whose door wasn't properly locked. But I'm 23 now and ready for thrills, so that little incident won't deter me.

*That sentence was thrown together for the sole purpose of using a big word.

Being scared at a carny in the States is probably more based on incompetence of both man and machine. Being scared here in Korea is another animal. A whole different dog. For starters, the only rule is there are no rules. The machine operators take you to the limits, especially if you're a foreigner. Ride durations are stunningly long. One of the best things about rides is their brevity, the uncomfortableness is minimized to a minute or a minute and a half, but not here. There is this ride called the Crazy Flip. It basically flips you upside down and throws you about. It's a lot of fun for a couple of minutes, but after five minutes it loses its wonder. Un-com-for-ta-ble. After hanging upside down for far longer than any orangutan in the jungle, it will give you quite a blood rush to the head.

The next ride we went on was the Disco! The sole purpose of this ride was to make your life miserable. Here is a picture of the ride:

It's a circular, spinning, bucking nightmare. The operator looked at the ten or so of us foreigners and said, "I'm terminator." The object of the ride is not to be bucked off. It's similar to a giant bucking bull in that regard. I grabbed anything I could and held on for dear life. The floor of this ride is padded. The "Terminator" will not stop the ride until a few unfortunate souls fall down. The entire ride is crazy. The ride throws you out of your seat when it bucks. If you weren't holding on, you would fly right out of your seat. Meg almost did, but luckily for her she's dating a superhero who happened to save her.

The best thing about this fun filled night was the bumper cars. To be honest with you, I love bumper cars. Bumper cars became a huge part of my summers at the Ozarks. 30 years from now, I'll remember the long, boring afternoons spent driving throughout the Ozark countryside as the rents looked for houses. Those trips were only tolerable, because more often than not they were topped off with a trip to the Dam. And that meant bumper cars. There is nothing like taking your frustration out on those who frustrated you. I was locked in like a heat seeking missile on Dave. This was my normal thought process, "You want to bore me to tears. You want me to listen to 8 Steely Dan albums. My friends are out tubing, while I'm picking up ReMax fliers on the front lawns of houses we'll never see again. I hope you have a good chiropractor." Dave and I had some good battles. Bumper cars just ooze nostalgia for me.

So, I was absolutely not surprised when I was the first one in line for the bumper cars at this carnival, however, these were not your normal pedestrian bumper cars. These were bumper cars from like the 1970's. These were bumper cars before lawyers. These things were a whiplash in the making. You could see the the volts of electricity on the ceiling while driving. There were no rules. Hell, half of the people in the pit weren't wearing their seat belts. Head on collisions weren't banned; they were encouraged! They were the fastest b-cars I've ever seen. They made the 5 hour car drive to Busan worth it by themselves. The hits were brutal, the lines were non-existent, and the memory will be unforgettable. I had a great time at a Korean carnival.

The Second Commercial

Remember my last commercial? It was more or less an awkward train wreck. I was testifying on behalf of a product that I never used. The director exclusively spoke Korean. And I was paid in a free health examination that I've never used. It was a pretty horrible experience.

So when Meg got a call on Tuesday night from a friend about a possible upcoming commercial, she asked me if I was interested. Without hesitation I answered, "Absolutely." I'll give it a second chance. When Meg told me that we were going to be paid 200 dollars in cash, well, that sealed the deal for sure. Meg and I had to wake up at the butt crack of dawn to make it to the infamous casino. Waking up at 6 is not my cup of tea, and once again I failed to get McDonald's due to time constraints. We arrived at the casino at 8:00 o'clock in the morning after an hour spent in the subway. The casino happens to be the place where I lost 200 dollars, (I blame the White Russians) so I figure they owe me this anyway. There was no dialogue in this part as an added bonus.

Acting is very awkward. That's the only way to describe it. It's unnatural to be pretending in front of people. I remember the children who pretended in front of others growing up were the ones that got made fun of. I still have emotional scars. I also have a theory on cameras: People either love them or hate them, and I hate them. There is one video (that I know of) of me on the internets*. As you can see, I'm in a crouched position hiding from the camera. I literally hate the damn things.**



*I think one of my roommates specifically typed my whole name. I have no idea why. Perhaps one of you could enlighten me.

**The other hit on my name is this darling quote I gave, "Warnken Properties made my first renting experience a breeze." The first renting experience I had was with Warnken properties. I gave them that quote hoping to receive my entire security deposit back. Of course, they still robbed me of 75 dollars. I gave them that great quote despite the fact that I HATED that company. They would charge us 25 dollars every week too if we didn't take out our trash. Even if our can was empty, we still had to take it to the dumpster. Because we were irresponsible college students, we got charged a lot. 25 dollars split four ways isn't a lot, but it adds up. Even worse, I once got a call from the Fire Marshall telling me that I need to come down to her office for an interview. I'm 20 years old. I'm in over my head the minute I answer that call. My crazy landlord thought someone from my apartment tried to burn down the entire building. She was trying to charge me and my roommates with arson. They eventually found out who did burn the building. It wasn't us, and it was an accident. She was awful. She was a fascist. And now I'm reminded every time I google myself that I sold my soul to that devil with the mere hopes of receiving my entire deposit back.

There was a cast of 6 foreigners hired. We were paired into couples. I was paired with a different woman. Yes that's right, I was in the process of cheating on Meg, but it's okay since we 're "acting." The first shot involved food. I was eating bibimbop, or I guess I had bibimbop in front of me. My "girlfriend" and I were supposed to chit chat and look very excited. They love enthusiasm. So the more ridiculous we got, the more they loved it. The production values on this commercial were amazing. They had extensive lighting equipment, a moving crane that could move the camera in any direction, and makeup artists that would touch up the three women every 15 minutes or so. Meg had a scene where she had to eat sushi. Meg HATES sushi. Not only does she have to eat sushi, but she has to ACT like she loves it. I got such a big kick out of watching her choke down raw fish and attempt to be overly enthusiastic about it.

This scene was followed by a slot machine scene. Complete with high fives, wide smiles, and a fist pump that would make Tiger Woods proud. And finally we did a roulette scene. It was a long morning that rewarded us with a quesadilla breakfast and 200 dollars. It was well worth the awkwardness of acting. And from now on you'll never hear me make another Tom Cruise joke again.