Goran and Nela, my bro and sis-in-law. Living it up at Jack Astor's Bar and Grill in eastern Toronto.  

To the ones I love, happy anniversary

15 years ago my older brother married my sister-in-law. Now they are living their happily ever after and watching their teenage son and daughter grow. Happy anniversary!

Cherry Blossom 

Japanese maple. Baby leaves maturing to their later flaming fall beauty.  

Seoul in the Spring. Flower Series

Magnolias

Princess Bianca

Princess Bianca. My next door office neighbour is a woman professor named Gwi-ok. She moved to the office next door at the beginning of this semester, back in September. Although she mus be my age, her sweet childish face, a ready smile and being short make her look much younger. We have been exchanging niceties during accidental encounters in the corridor or in Alley McBeal-style unisex washroom - the sign on the door has a picture of a woman, while the sing on the wall next to the door has a picture of a man- what else could it be?
She's been inviting me for tea ever since she moved in, but I was always too busy to oblige. Today, during our short bathroom babble, she invited me to join her and her students for the May Day parade on Sunday in Gwanghwamun. Although I planned to mark assignments all day, I couldn't refuse fearing that she might think I don't like her or something. She stopped by at my office where we exchanged phone numbers and emails. She left, and when I I opened my email box 5 minutes later, I found a note from her with this picture attached: Princess Bianca, apparently a very 'famous' warrior princess in the cartoon world. Endearing, or what? Can you imagine any other country except Korea where this could happen? This tenured professor went all girlie and friendly on me. She displayed a degree of intimacy that really does not exist between us, but is certainly hoped for and expected. I'll just go with the flow and accept her next offer of tea.
May I just add that I like this Princess: great hair, a bit messy like mine; great bosom (I don't know how she doesn't topple over); great eyes (I am afraid they are a tad too big for the sockets, danger of falling out), and I like her outfit that is so suited for a warrior princess - allows for a lot of movement, at least in some areas. I am just worried about her collar bones, they will pierce her skin any moment and stab her chin.

Juwangsan Hikers. April 23 and 24 my club hiked the Juwangsan national park in the south-eastern part of Korea. It was a great day, an easy hike (the park was closed so we couldn't really go up), lots of good food and dong-dong ju.  

A beautiful new leaf about to burst open.  

Dong-dong ju the way it's traditionally served in big earthenware pots and drunk from smaller ones.  

From left: Debbie, me, Soo-hee, Andrea. Posing in front of the waterfall as "Changdae's Angels" 

Off the beaten track: Debbie photographed me while I was taking a photo of te waterfall.  

A waterfall at the beginning of the trail.  

B on the bridge.  

A temple with cherry blossoms in the front and "the screen" rock of Juwangsan in the back. The spring in Korea is wonderful.  

Two Ontario girls: the big one from Toronto and the smaller one from Thunder Bay - and an inevitable Amercan gazing into the water.  

We squeezed through narrow canyons.  

Hiking it Alone

After almost 2,5 years of hiking with members of my hiking club, I finally decided to undertake a longer( serious) hike all by my lonesome. Of course, I hiked alone before, especially when I lived in the County of Dreadful Bucheon, but these were shorter and "milder" hikes. Last week I hiked alone on Bukhansan and this week, Tuesday April 26th, I went out of Seoul to Dongducheon area, Mt. Soyo.
My solo hikes are part of training that I am doing to get fitter and able to conquer Jiri-san, "the Mother Mountain of Korea [omoni], " Soraksan being the "aboji," or the Father. The nicknames are only too fitting when one consider deep valeys and gentle curves of Jirisan juxtaposed to Soraksans sky-reaching enourmous "obelisks." It'll be a gruelling physical challenge as our Dear Leader plans to cross the whole mountain in 24 hours, hiking for 16 hours the first day, sleeping in a hut with dozens of other hikers, snoringand simmering in their own juices, and 8 hours the next day. This, of course, after an almost all-night train ride. God help me!

Naturally, I've become a much stronger hiker since I joined the club. When I look back on my first hike that happened on Bukhansan back in January 2003, I can hardly believe that I survived it - and that I ever came back for more. I joined the hike after a night of drinking and going to bed at 4:00 a.m. I had to get up at 6:00 a.m. to make it from Bucheon to the north-east part of Seoul. The mountain was beautiful, fresh fluffy snow everywhere, bright sunny people, friendly - albeit not too concerned about the needs of a newbie - but I felt like I was dying. For half a week after that hike my whole body ached and throbbed. I am happy to say that now, even after a strenuous hike, I don't feel any significant discomfort in any part of my body except in my darn right foot that keeps bothering me. It doesn't help, of course, that my hiking boots are 2 sizes too big and 200,000 won too cheap. I should remember: I'm not rich enough to buy cheap things. I am hoping to get a decent pair of h-shoes from the club as a reward for my 12 conscutive Saturday hikes - and the 12th will be Jirisan. What a triumph it will be!

Lonesome hike #1. Thursday, April 21st, backpack filled with food, water, a warm sweater, cell phone and camera, I headed out on my big adventure. A highly hazardous bus took me to Wooido which is the area relatively close to one of the entrances to the park. After a 40-minute walk along a paved busy road, I was finally in the park.

The beginning of the trail is steep and has many stone blocks posing as stairs. The higher I got, the steeper and more challenging the trail got. I decided to go all the way to Paekundae (the peak) that requires a wee bit of courage and skill, especially if one hikes alone. It's not really scary, just about enough to get your adrenaline level a bit higher. The narrow path to the top is well-tended, there are iron handgrips and foot rests carved in rock, but the rocks are made very very smooth by the thousands of feet trampling on them daily.
It was very windy on the top. Taking off my hat and jumping onto the highest rock I spread my arms like an eagle and let the wind mess up my hair and chill my face.

I met three good-looking young Germans who invited me to some modern art exhibition in which they participated. The way down was, as it always is for me, quite unpleasant. I used to have serious fear of heights which I kind of cured while visiting The Grand Canyon - by forcing myself to come to the very edge of high, high cliffs and look down. Still, however, it happens ocassionally that looking down makes me dizzy and turns my legs to jelly. Coming down the tricky part alive, the rest of the descent went smoothly except taht at this point my rebellious right foot and my knees were coming dangerously close to failing me. I was back at the bus terminal 4 hours after I started from it. Not bad, not bad at all.

Lonesome hike #2, Soyosan. A few weeks ago I hiked Mt. Soyo with Clare and CD. It was a bitter cold day but we had jolly good time. The ever-curious Clare kept CD busy demanding explanations for this or that. There was a lot to learn about the Soyo park with its temple, monks, bridge, mountain fairies, etc. I fell in love with Soyo and I made a pledge to come back in the spring when azaleas and cherry blossoms shake off their dreary winter coats.

When I finally made it to Soyo I felt as happy and as home there as a mountain fairy. To get to Soyo, I took the bus no. 36 from Suyu Station and I got to Dongduchon at 11:45. It took me 1,5 hours. I didn't mind, as I had a lovely lady private detective from Botswana to keep me company. Oh, sorry, I misguided you, she didn't really sit next to me but she lived and breathed on the pages of a great book I've been reading.
When I got off the bus I couldn't quite remember where to go. The streets were unusaully empty so I waited a bit, and sure enough, soon I spotted a group of be-visored and dressed in black hiking gear ajummas. I followed them at a decent distance, or perhaps, I should say safe. If I had kept any closer behind them my eardrums would have bursted as thye kept clucking away like a whole coup of hens.

While hiking, I couldn't decide what was more beautiful - pink azaleas in full blossoms growing in single rows along the trails, or violets, blue bells, yellow bells and numerous other nameless little flowers dotting the moist ground still hiding under a layer of dead leaves. Numerous pine groves provide Soyosan with nicest of perfumes while the thick dark green needles serve as a perfect foil for more delicate pale pink and white azalea and cherry blossoms.

Reminding myself that I am here not only to play but to train, I hiked like a little engine that could, barely stopping to have a sip of water or a handful of dry fruit/nut mixture. There were not that many hikers, but, of course, it's impossible to be alone on any mountain at any time in Korea, ever. I met a few very friendly ajoshis and ajumma who greeted me enthusiastically and then laughed at the sight of my huge hiking boots not on my feet but dangling at my sides, tied to my backpack. When I left my house, I was wearing my barely there and threadbare ancient Nike sneakers. I figured, they hurt my feet less and I'd just wear my hiking boots on dodgy spots. Well, there were no true dodgy spots on any of the trails and there was no need to further torture my poor feet with the much-hated boots.
.
Reaching Gongju-byong (The Princess Peak) a happy realization dawned on me: the ond of climbing. At all times I knew where I was and how much farther I needed to go thanks to the bandana-type Soyo map that I bought at the foot of the mountain. Alas, I misread a waywager and on my way down I missed the trail, almost tumbling down steep slipperly slopes. After about 45 minutes of wondering where on earth I was going and whether my knees could take any more abuse, I finally reached something that looked like a trail. From that point on it was easy. According to my bandana, I covered the longest - more than 8km - trail in 4 hours, climbed 6 peaks - even played the role of a trailblazer for about 45 minutes. Not bad for an overweight, wheezy, almost middle-aged "ajumshi" like myself. Glossary: "ajumshi" is a word coined from "AJUMma", a married, "older" woman and "agaSHI", a young unmarried girl. Apparently, Korea is hopping on the wagon of gender-neutral language so they created their own version of 'Ms.' to accommodate the growing number of Korean Bridget Jones', unmarried ajumshis in their 30's and even 40's.

CULTURE CORNER: The starting point of Soyosan hike is the most interesting and most "cultural." Many, many moons ago, -or so the story goes,- a high-ranking Buddhist monk had a scandalous affair with a princess. Ashamed and repentant, he ended the affair and came to Soyo mountain where he lived as a hermit hoping to cleanse himself from the sin. The road to the 'clean state" was paved with thorns,however: Buddha himself tempted him disguised as a beautiful young woman.. Pretending to be lost on the mountain while collecting medicinal herbs, he came to the monk's hut asking to 'crash.' The monk resisted the temptation of the flesh telling 'the seductress' that he was absolutely free of all earthly desires and passions. Impressed, Buddha granted him eternal peace. Later, the monk built a temple where people come to pray even today. The temple is called Jajaeam (place where one gains freedom by renouncing desires and wishes).
Before reaching the temple, one must cross a bridge that symbolically separates the material world from the spiritual world of the mountain and the temple. This time around, monks hang hundreds of colourful lanterns to honour the upcoming Buddha's birthday. Right next to the temple an impressive foaming white column of water is crashing into a shallow monk-made green pool. The temple yard is a great place to sit and contemplate and feel separated from the hustle and buslte of everyday's life. It is nestled in the tiniest of valleys, squeezed between two steep slopes of Soyo. A cherry tree nearby sprinkles the dark roofs of the temple and the green of the pool with delicate white petals. The edges of the rocks and branches that stick out from the water are lined with this delicate pale pink natural lace.

GLUTTONY: Although I was on the 'spiritual' side of the mountain, I started to feel very material hunger pangs at about the time when I completed the full hiking circle and came back to where I started from. It was 5:00 pm, and I didn't have a real meal since my oatmeal breakfast many hours ago. Choosing a big flat mossy slab of stone that hung over a murmuring creek like an asymetrical terrace, I sat down and took out the goodies from my backpack. What a feast: tuna and herbed mayo on a whole-wheat bagel,a chunk of Cheddar, cherry tomatoes, sliced cucumber... and for dessert strawberries, grapes and a tiny triangle of creamy brie.... Plunging my teeth into the goodness of food, I felt like I was in heaven. I could feel the smooth surface of the 'terrace' relaxing my tired thighs, the warm caresses of the setting sun on my cheecks and the gentle cool tickling of the wind on my bare toes.... and I thought to myself, lalalala, 'what a wonderfulf world.' No kiddin', I really did.

It goes without saying that I love hiking and I love my club and all the great people that make it ... well... great, but I am happy to have discovered that hiking alone is an unforgettable, almost spiritual experience. Although I am alone, I don't feel lonely on the mountain. I feel like I belong, I feel ... a presence...There is a Croatian folk song about an orphaned child who, wearing rags for clothes, roams alone on a mountain in the spring and talks to it, saying: "I ti imas majku svoju, goro carna, goro mila, pa te tvoja mila majka tako lijepo okitila." It translates roughly as: "And even you, dear enchanting mountain, even you have a mother who decked you in all those jewels" - referring, naturally, to blossoms and greens. The mountain's mother responds to the orphan's sadness howling with the wind: " Oj, siroce, oj, siroce" - "Oh, dear orphan, dear orphan. " From the rest of the song it's clear that the Big Mother understand how the orphan feels and that it wants to give him comfort. I admit that I sometimes feel like this orphan, except that I am not small and I am not dressed in rags (except for my shoes, of course).

Hiking alone, I feel the existence of something that goes beyond my scope of comprehension, something that I can neither fathom nor rationally explain , but could definitely feel in the deepest corners of my being. On the mountain I am blessed with moments when I feel that people who were dearest to me and whom I lost didn't just disappear, that their spirit is around me and that they are looking at me from behind the blossoms, the greens, disguising their voices as whisperings of wind and murmuring of water. I don't feel abandoned and foresaken; on the contrary, I feel safe and happy, the way I remember feeling in the earliest days of childhood when mother's "kissing the booboo" and being enveloped in the familiar warmth of her arms and the dear fragrance of her skin and hair, could fix all hurts and bruises in a nanosecond. We are not given too much of that, but luckily most of us get enough of it to seal it permanently in our memories and recall it from there when we are alone with Big Mother and when our minds are not preocupied with daily drudgery.

Alone on Soyo, I thought about the day when I will become a true part of the Big Mother nature. I didn't feel scared, I felt almost happy that this longing to see the face I can no longer see, to touch the hands I can no longer touch and hear the voice that I can no longer hear will cease. All of me - my face, body, voice - will join millions of others that have gone there before me, including the ones that I miss so terribly every day. Some day I will be looking at this world from behind bushes, branches and blossoms from a spot that can't be all that bad if we all inevitably end up there. Not even the cruel Father God could send all of his children to a bad place, I hope. But before that happens, I'll keep going to the mountains for reassurance and comfort and for the closest I could feel to my mother.