Success?

I was a weird kid. 

I can remember one Christmas afternoon when I was in elementary school building a Lego train station in my bedroom.  I had received the set via Santa Claus.  I don’t remember exactly what triggered my thoughts, but I was struck then and there by the idea that time moves at a speed too quickly to grasp.  Unstoppable.  Fast.  Very fast.  Too fast.

Maybe it was because the train station didn’t take as long as I thought to build.  The fun part of Lego sets is the building, not the finished product.  For me, once the police station, or hospital, or whatever, was constructed, that was it.  Done.  What next?

Or maybe it was because it felt like just 5 minutes ago my brothers and I were waking up early and anxiously waiting in the hallway for our parents to say we could survey the loot.  And now I found myself realizing that it was over, and would have to endure 365 more days before I got to do it again.

Time flies.  Not just when I’m having fun.  Everyday.  I don’t know why this idea took a firm hold of me at such a young age.  But it did.  And I’m happy about it.

As an adult on the cusp of 30 years of existence, I am terribly afraid of wasting time.  I’ve wasted my share.  It depresses me if I think about it too much.  So I find myself constantly (obsessively) evaluating my life every few days.  Have I been active in chasing my dreams?  Has the past year been a success?  Have I grown as a person?  Have I learned anything new?  Have I written that book that I said I would if I could just get to the other side of the world?

Photoblog 5

Postage

by Jessica Hollingsworth

Currently reading...

One of the interesting things about living in the United States is that
you know, just know, can feel it in your bones, that you inhabit the
beating heart of the world.  This isn't true, of course.  Nevertheless,
we take it for granted that when we have our Super Bowls, 3 billion
people around the world upend their work schedules and forgo sleep
so that they, too, can watch.  We assume that as we view the colossal
fuck-up that is the life and times of Britney Spears, people abroad
care as much as we do when the sad, bloated Mouseketeer decides
to shave her head.  We are told that when our economy sneezes,
Canada, Europe, Asia, wherever, catches a cold.  When we screw up,
it's the rest of the world we screw up.  And when we triumph, the rest
of the world stops to admire the great shining city on the hill.  We are,
we believe, the prime movers and the rest of the planet just rolls
along on the ride that is America.


J. Maarten Troost
from LOST ON PLANET CHINA

Photoblog 4

English Island Field Trip 

by Jessica Hollingsworth

Warning: No Politically Correct Statements Here

It really shouldn’t surprise me.  Korea, after all, is a very uniform place.  Every mid-size town (and if your town is not referred to as Seoul, it’s a mid-size town) is the same.  Mirror images of each other. 

Mr. Pizza.  Paris Baguette.  3^rd floor Billiard rooms.  Homeplus.  Lotteria. 

And...

RACIAL INSENSITIVIY ALERT: Everyone looks the same.  Really. 

It’s not a slight to Koreans.  Rather it’s a matter of pride.  An ethnic identity.  Same black hair.  Same basic facial features.  Same semi-flattened nose bone and same “slanted” eyes.  Rarely will you find a Korean with facial hair. Or hair on the forearms. 

On a few occasions, Jessica and I have tried to describe to each other someone we met, or a teacher or student at school.  It always begins (and ends) the same way...

Ummm...he has black hair, and olive-ish colored skin, about 5 feet, 5 inches tall, and...ummmm...well he just looks Korean.

Visit any of the numerous walking paths in Korea and the scene will inevitably be identical to the last.  The trailhead will be liberally sprinkled with men and women of all ages wearing black nylon hiking pants.  Each will have a backpack, hiking poles, a ventilated hat with the brim extending a full circle around their head, a colorful moisture wicking shirt, a bandana around the neck, and (my favorite) a small tin cup attached to the shoulder strap, dangling in the non-existent breeze.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say that all of these people were headed off on a multi-day trek in the Alps.

Koreans do not wander far from the norm. 

So, as noted earlier, I should not have thought it odd that when my school went on a field trip yesterday to a local swimming pool all of the children emerged from the changing rooms dressed alike. 

Swim caps, goggles, spandex Olympic-ish swim trunks.  ALL of them.  Swim caps.  (What?  Why?)


Koreans, I've learned, know who they are.  What they look like.  What Korean food is.  Ask me what an American looks like, and I can't give you a definite answer.  White?  Black?  Hispanic?  Asian?  Ask me what American food is...another ambiguous answer.  Koreans, on the other hand, are a bit more certain.


Diversity is not on the list of Korea's strengths.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Foreign Film Friday

a foreign film review by Chris White

NIGHTS OF CABIRIA

In the aftermath of World War II, many Italian filmmakers pursued a much more sobering and truthful kind of cinema.  Known as "Italian Neorealism," the movement spawned a generation of non-romantic dramas about the harsh realities of life.


Federico Fellini, who would later be known for cinematic theatricality, free-flowing style, and plot whimsy started in this movement.  In the heartbreaking NIGHTS OF CABIRIA we see him true to that form...while straining to transcend it.

CABIRIA stars Fellini's wife, Giulietta Masina, in the title role.  As she was in her husband's LA STRADA (1956), Masina is a female Charlie Chaplin...a screen comedienne for the ages.  And it is within her flawless performance we find a character of true pathos, not a cartoon.  Though Cabiria (Masina) lives as a prostitute on the streets of Rome, she always seems to find the goodness in others and in the dark world she inhabits.


Facing endless disappointment and humiliation, Cabiria is broken, and beaten and then broken again.  And yet...she never stays down.  Always, always, she rises to the next occasion.  She perseveres.  "Dum spiro-spero."

Underscoring the pathos and pain of Cabiri's hard life and positive outlook is Nino Rota's (THE GODFATHER) stirring theme.

1957 // BW //110 min.
Criterion Collection (Janus Films) 
COUNTRY OF ORIGIN: Italy

Class

Wednesday morning my 1st grade students made birthday cards to mail to my mom in America.  

10 months

10 months to the day.  Greenville was behind us.  Yeongju was on the horizon.  

We crossed the ocean of no return.  Bound for a new world, full of new people.  New foods.  New languages.  New toilets.  It was an exciting time.  Everything was changing.  Everything had changed.

Together we stepped off the airplane and saw...McDonald's.  And then Starbucks.  And Americans.  Too many to count.  (Did we transfer to the wrong plane back in San Francisco?)

10 months ago (and 2 weeks into our marriage), Jessica and I exited the International Arrivals gate at Incheon International Airport with a trail of luggage.  Our lives jammed into several large suitcases.  We just stood there.  

          Well what do we do now?

It was Sunday evening.  Someone from the recruiting agency would be by the airport to pick us up in the morning.  But until then we had to figure out what to do with ourselves.  I had $80 to my name.  So naturally we opted for coffee at the Dunkin' Donuts kiosk.  After that we counted what was left, guessed we had enough for a hotel, and boarded a shuttle bus into a very unfamiliar night.

In the time since that night I've learned a lot.  About myself.  About Jessica.  About us.  About people.  I've learned that beans on your ice cream isn't necessarily a bad thing.  I've learned eel and tomatoes for dinner is good for stamina.  (If you know what I mean.  wink wink.)  I've learned that children are children.  America.  China.  Taiwan.  Korea.  People are people.

But most importantly I've learned that Jessica and I can do anything.  At home or in Asia.  Whatever we set our mind to.  We're a great team.  We work well together.  We share goals and dreams.  We're best friends, which has been our secret to a smooth first year of marriage away from home.

          .....that and a steady diet of eel and tomato soup.

2018

So what exactly does the mountain region of Pyeongchang have to offer? Here's an inside look just a few years before the Olympians start packing their bags.

Figure skater Kim Yu-na may have drawn attention to South Korea with her cool choreography and winning smile, but when it comes to winter sports in the country, the world knows little else.

The good news is that Pyeongchang -- the mountain resort region with 40,000 permanent residents that’s just secured its bid to host the 2018 Winter Olympics -- has plenty of time to repackage itself as a world-class winter sports destination.

Located 182 kilometers southeast of Seoul, in the spectacular southern part of Gangwon Province, Pyeongchang sits at 700 meters above sea level in one of the most rugged, mountainous regions of the country, an area often referred to as “Korea’s Alps.”

Read more about Pyeongchang and preparations for the 2018 Winter Olympics at CNN GO

Cap(s)