10.) trilogy of humor...
Ok, so today marks the third day in a row that I have witnessed something so funny that I couldn't help laughing out loud and looking for someone to share it with... So I figured that called for a post. I hope anyone who reads this enjoys these accounts as much I enjoyed living them.
Ok, the commencement of my three days of humor began on Sunday night as I was walking home from church. It's a long walk, probably 30 minutes of so, but the Fall weather here has been pretty accommodating as of late; the breezes are cool, but the skies are clear and a simple jacket or sweater fends off the chill quite well, which affords the opportunity for some crisp and brisk walks throughout the streets.
On the way to my place I was passing a gas station, when I was startled by a dog barking what seemed close by. I looked, and fancied upon the source, which was, in fact, by no means a dog, but a man! He was the gas station attendant, and from the looks and sounds of it, a very bored one. (And what's more, from the fantastic impersonation - or rather, im-dog-anation - I can only assume that he has passed many a night in a similar fashion. His barking continued from the time I first was next to the station, until I had passed out of sight, probably about a full minute, or so. For a few moments I pondered the meaning of such an encounter, but then remembered, afterall, where I am, and that those types of experiences just seem to rain down around here like an Indian monsoon.
My second encounter was as I was walking, again, yesterday down what is probably the single most busy street in the country, which, of course, provides for much entertainment, especially as I heavily frequent the street and see many opportunities for people to interact, with each other and many of the other stimuli presented by such an environment. As I was walking, past the multitude of people and stores, many of which is important to note blast music out their front doors to presumably draw one in (is it strange how the 'blast' in order to 'beckon??'), I saw a young boy, around the age of six or seven, walking towards me on the street. And though he was about 30 yards away on the busy street, I had no problem picking him out of the crowd. He was just in front of a particular cell-phone store that is well-known for blasting pretty strong music not just in their store, but on the street as well.
The boy was just in front of one of the outdoor speakers, and he was head-banging a storm out of the song... well, perhaps the more descriptive term would be body-banging(?), for he was convulsing to and fro, forward and back to the heavy beat of the music. It was quite a sight, one that he did not in the least mind making. He was being followed, however, but a man, presumably his father, who did not seem to share such a cavalier mentality and who definitely added to the overall humor of the situation, for he was walking just about an arms-length away, but definitely with enough distance so as to say 'I've got no control of this situation, so don't even think of blaming me for his behavior!' The boy continued rocking, and I continued walking right on by, not pausing my steps, but definitely pausing my mind to reflect on the scene.
And now on to the third day of my 'trilogy of Asian humor.' Three times a week I have to leave the comfort of my home and head out into the streets, and battle my way through the streaming, screaming and steaming masses of people all heading to their respective workplaces (or, perhaps, some of them have the delightful and enviable position of being able to enjoy the havoc of the morning just for the sheer pleasure of witnesses such sights in the morning as I am about to describe). What is more is that I have to do such 'battling' in what often seems to be a perpetual state of rush, as I seem to leave the house at the same time everyday, regardless of whether I get up early or late, and that time is about three minutes too late (which, in this city, can make or break you, or in my particular circumstance can cause me to miss my express bus to work which affords me a few extra minutes of calm meditation before my classes (the irony is as silly to me as it must appear, but that is the reality of life, mine at least)). The second part of my morning journey, after a short walk to the subway station from my house, is the subway ride itself.
The subway in the morning is probably the best analogy to a cow's stomach as I've ever thought up. The trains graze on people all day, at some times more intense than others, and while consuming new people, they also are bringing out others in the act of 'chewing the cud,' which results in the mashing and churning of people in and out of its jaws (the subway stations). The early mornings seem to add a slight variation, and that is the aggression that commonly comes from the experience of indigestion. If you've ever seen footage of the trains in Tokyo, where there are subway attendants that literally herd and pack people into the subways (yet another analogy to cattle surfaces...), you might have some idea of the subways here... except we have neither the assistance nor the authority that is presented by the uniformed and stick (cattle-prod) wielding attendants in Japan. So what ends up happening, as is often the case in situations that lack a symbol of authority, people take the law into their own hands. In this particular case, that is expressed in who does or does not get permitted into the packed cars of the subway. Many times people weed themselves out, and opt for the three-minute wait for the next train, for which the can most likely have a better opportunity to enter unencumbered, or they may just have more time to plan their particular approach. However, as noted above, those three minutes can make or break one's day, so many are goaded into a more aggressive approach by their own self-interest. The subsequent clash, or perhaps mixture, of individual self-interest provides the fodder for my tale of this morning's humorous encounter.
I had just securely embarked in my respective corral (train car) - the art of which I have come to a close mastery of in my tri-weekly or more experiences - when the final and desperate rush came for people coming down the stairs, seeing the train there, waiting, nay baiting, them to try to jam themselves into the already full cars. And on this particular morning, one man, with the aid of momentum from his down the stairs trot and his runway boost from the end of the stairs to the car, thrust himself into the car... only to be met by a 'public defender,' in this case, a 6-foot+ young Korean guy who was not about to be trampled on, nor let anyone else in his car receive similar treatment. So he promptly met the man in full stride with, according to Newton's law can be described as an equal and opposite reaction to the man's efforts, which landed the man halfway in and halfway out of the car, with precious seconds to spare for the doors to close, doors that carry no predisposition of equity and yet yield to none. The following seconds, to which I was eye-witness and front row spectator (it all happened about 4 inches from my face), resulted in a flurry of elbows, under-one's-breath responses, acceptance of the momentum man into our car, and a continuation of smaller and yet not less-heartened jabs back and forth for the remained of my passage: 2 stations.
The final addition to my trilogy occurred in the comfort of my office, and while was not the up close and personal experience of the previous three accounts, was nonetheless humorous, and proved to be the proverbial straw to break the camel's back of my desire to relay this story. I was on a break from class, and I came across this video on the internet. I have seen something like it before, but it became particularly funny in light of the events of the past three days. I will say no more, but simply add that the following video strongly reflects the silliness I have encountered in my time in Korea. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and by it can understand some more of my life and experience here.
Ok, the commencement of my three days of humor began on Sunday night as I was walking home from church. It's a long walk, probably 30 minutes of so, but the Fall weather here has been pretty accommodating as of late; the breezes are cool, but the skies are clear and a simple jacket or sweater fends off the chill quite well, which affords the opportunity for some crisp and brisk walks throughout the streets.
On the way to my place I was passing a gas station, when I was startled by a dog barking what seemed close by. I looked, and fancied upon the source, which was, in fact, by no means a dog, but a man! He was the gas station attendant, and from the looks and sounds of it, a very bored one. (And what's more, from the fantastic impersonation - or rather, im-dog-anation - I can only assume that he has passed many a night in a similar fashion. His barking continued from the time I first was next to the station, until I had passed out of sight, probably about a full minute, or so. For a few moments I pondered the meaning of such an encounter, but then remembered, afterall, where I am, and that those types of experiences just seem to rain down around here like an Indian monsoon.
My second encounter was as I was walking, again, yesterday down what is probably the single most busy street in the country, which, of course, provides for much entertainment, especially as I heavily frequent the street and see many opportunities for people to interact, with each other and many of the other stimuli presented by such an environment. As I was walking, past the multitude of people and stores, many of which is important to note blast music out their front doors to presumably draw one in (is it strange how the 'blast' in order to 'beckon??'), I saw a young boy, around the age of six or seven, walking towards me on the street. And though he was about 30 yards away on the busy street, I had no problem picking him out of the crowd. He was just in front of a particular cell-phone store that is well-known for blasting pretty strong music not just in their store, but on the street as well.
The boy was just in front of one of the outdoor speakers, and he was head-banging a storm out of the song... well, perhaps the more descriptive term would be body-banging(?), for he was convulsing to and fro, forward and back to the heavy beat of the music. It was quite a sight, one that he did not in the least mind making. He was being followed, however, but a man, presumably his father, who did not seem to share such a cavalier mentality and who definitely added to the overall humor of the situation, for he was walking just about an arms-length away, but definitely with enough distance so as to say 'I've got no control of this situation, so don't even think of blaming me for his behavior!' The boy continued rocking, and I continued walking right on by, not pausing my steps, but definitely pausing my mind to reflect on the scene.
And now on to the third day of my 'trilogy of Asian humor.' Three times a week I have to leave the comfort of my home and head out into the streets, and battle my way through the streaming, screaming and steaming masses of people all heading to their respective workplaces (or, perhaps, some of them have the delightful and enviable position of being able to enjoy the havoc of the morning just for the sheer pleasure of witnesses such sights in the morning as I am about to describe). What is more is that I have to do such 'battling' in what often seems to be a perpetual state of rush, as I seem to leave the house at the same time everyday, regardless of whether I get up early or late, and that time is about three minutes too late (which, in this city, can make or break you, or in my particular circumstance can cause me to miss my express bus to work which affords me a few extra minutes of calm meditation before my classes (the irony is as silly to me as it must appear, but that is the reality of life, mine at least)). The second part of my morning journey, after a short walk to the subway station from my house, is the subway ride itself.
The subway in the morning is probably the best analogy to a cow's stomach as I've ever thought up. The trains graze on people all day, at some times more intense than others, and while consuming new people, they also are bringing out others in the act of 'chewing the cud,' which results in the mashing and churning of people in and out of its jaws (the subway stations). The early mornings seem to add a slight variation, and that is the aggression that commonly comes from the experience of indigestion. If you've ever seen footage of the trains in Tokyo, where there are subway attendants that literally herd and pack people into the subways (yet another analogy to cattle surfaces...), you might have some idea of the subways here... except we have neither the assistance nor the authority that is presented by the uniformed and stick (cattle-prod) wielding attendants in Japan. So what ends up happening, as is often the case in situations that lack a symbol of authority, people take the law into their own hands. In this particular case, that is expressed in who does or does not get permitted into the packed cars of the subway. Many times people weed themselves out, and opt for the three-minute wait for the next train, for which the can most likely have a better opportunity to enter unencumbered, or they may just have more time to plan their particular approach. However, as noted above, those three minutes can make or break one's day, so many are goaded into a more aggressive approach by their own self-interest. The subsequent clash, or perhaps mixture, of individual self-interest provides the fodder for my tale of this morning's humorous encounter.
I had just securely embarked in my respective corral (train car) - the art of which I have come to a close mastery of in my tri-weekly or more experiences - when the final and desperate rush came for people coming down the stairs, seeing the train there, waiting, nay baiting, them to try to jam themselves into the already full cars. And on this particular morning, one man, with the aid of momentum from his down the stairs trot and his runway boost from the end of the stairs to the car, thrust himself into the car... only to be met by a 'public defender,' in this case, a 6-foot+ young Korean guy who was not about to be trampled on, nor let anyone else in his car receive similar treatment. So he promptly met the man in full stride with, according to Newton's law can be described as an equal and opposite reaction to the man's efforts, which landed the man halfway in and halfway out of the car, with precious seconds to spare for the doors to close, doors that carry no predisposition of equity and yet yield to none. The following seconds, to which I was eye-witness and front row spectator (it all happened about 4 inches from my face), resulted in a flurry of elbows, under-one's-breath responses, acceptance of the momentum man into our car, and a continuation of smaller and yet not less-heartened jabs back and forth for the remained of my passage: 2 stations.
The final addition to my trilogy occurred in the comfort of my office, and while was not the up close and personal experience of the previous three accounts, was nonetheless humorous, and proved to be the proverbial straw to break the camel's back of my desire to relay this story. I was on a break from class, and I came across this video on the internet. I have seen something like it before, but it became particularly funny in light of the events of the past three days. I will say no more, but simply add that the following video strongly reflects the silliness I have encountered in my time in Korea. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and by it can understand some more of my life and experience here.
posted by Chip at 5:26 PM
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