Haze,

I  might have to start a running ticker of "shit my boss says". Like on Monday when she wants to talk over having lesson objectives which yes, absolutely i should. And repeat things, she's said before but still dont make sense to me, and then says casually like a thought flying out of an impolite place "they didn't learn anything in the entire hour"... i note the bullet come whizzing by me, fragments shrapnel into my brain and I'm left with that sentence of death working it's way into me bit by bit... i spend the rest of the... oh, god, it's only been 3 days...stopping bloodloss, and then on tuesday feeling i've overcome another obstacle by even showing up with the flu and working, she says, oh i thought you were going to call in sick. I waited, after 1030 though too late. It's much harder to replace someone if they leave during the work day... (insert subtext)... there was more but because of the sickness it's all whirling around me in vapors. As ive spent the midafternoon portions of the day with an unnatural sweat on my brow and convincing myself vomiting is unnecssary.
They didn't learn anything. Ah, awesome. Good thing i'm intuitive and self-aware or her comment might have actually been fatal... but let's not dwell on it as i do everytime i now lesson plan for them, ok? ok. Let's focus on how each day has seemed longer than the last, and that i wake up in a sweat, and wonder why i'm not well yet. Or how i'm out of food and spending $6 a day on taxis.

Anyway i better not go on. It's bedtime anyway right. And no, don't tell me it's going to get better or easier. i may well just send a giant butterfly to carry off your head... as i suggested to one class just a couple of hours ago. They laughed. They weren't at all taking me seriously. Then again, another class I said I liked soju and they all were in an uproar which led to a downspiral in conversation, and they were asking what the word was for "ugly" to "beautiful"... i finally figured out- plastic surgery and how to say "i took too many sleeping pills"... not to be beat by my other class going on about how nkorea was sure to send missiles to jeju and kill us. I'm glad they're at least working the language barrier. I could think of a few i'd like to send my boss but i'm lost in translation currently- and as i said, night.

night.
night.
come on thursday!

Might as Well,

Right so I've got the flu. People are saying that it's inevitable. I don't think so. I wandered around central america for a month and didn't get food poisoning. Now that i'm here and 2wks in officially being plagued by fever, aches and mental clouds is not something i'm shrugging my shoulders at- mostly because i get offended everytime i get sick, and two i'm pretty sure i didn't deserve it. I was previous taking copious amounts of vitamin c, ginger even and sleeping tons. It was that one night of the storm wednesday night that gave this vicious thing entrance. So that by Thursday I was already thinking oh no, so that i was fully resenting Friday and today missing the fire festival on the mountain. Added on top of that trying to teach for the first time. And granted when i walked into the office the first day i did describe it as a physically sick place, or it seemed it, in some horrible portent of what was to come, but that is for later- Anyway i set out to tell you about the fact that i stillneed to buy a broom, toilet brush, laundry detergent and a host of annoying things that i feel should probably be here. The broom at least. Come on. Have a broom. It's polite. Sure leave me with cooking supplies I can't use, but make me go get the broom. I guess that's the easier thing to track down? I don't know. And the chair- it's made for tiny people is all i'm saying. The weight capacity i'm guessing is far below me. 

I paused from my day of watching d#wnl#ads from ut#rrent, you'll be happy to know i'm up to date on all the latest in tvland, to tell you that i took out the trash to take in a bit of fresh air- since oddly the nearest trash bin ? only? is across the small street, down some steps in a parking lot near some installed workout machines which apparently are all over this part of the island. It was almost too much. The cold dry air, despite ocean proximity, and the exertion of going down and up a flight of stairs seemed a bit overkill. The interesting part besides the whole location situation is the oc'dcee ness of korean garbage. I appreciate the angle really coming from CA as i do, but 4 is a bit much to have in a small apt. 1 paper/metals/ and i forget what else 2. plastics 3. foodwaste 4. combustible? materials? aka "special white trashbags" that you have to buy from the market. what? i had read about this on some blog before coming but to realize that's not where the food waste went was a bit confusing. or that foodwaste itself constitutes a small bag over a week or whatever that you must empty out into the garbage cans. but its the white bags that one might term biohazard materials is where it tips on over into neurosis? i asked E what one might put into it and he was like... oh um.... oh you know, you blow your nose and ... uh huh yes, and... but anyway i get it but i don't right? it makes perfect sense and i'm still EH< that's a bIT MucH. mostly because it's all mandatory- what with neighbors for spies (reverse that) and no, it's not an option or you'll get fined thing. i get it but still.

But I'm sick, and i find most things intolerable at this stage.

to make up for this rather bleak and kind of informative post i'll show more pictures:

i live above a 'family mart'. the 7/11 is across the way. same/same. this IS "the lucky house"

 you can see my building near those half alive palmtrees. the building in front of it is called the dolphin. it has a cafe that i will one day go to.

this IS the only interesting part of the small beach. the volcanic rocks and the heavy sands. but it'll do. it'll do.

 these poles over here to the left light up at night! pretty! but don't let the scope of the view fool you or as i was going to right/write - fuel you... the beach isn't that big. it's mostly rugged volcanic rock. which is i guess why any slip of sand is heavily guarded protected and fortified.

next up- my thursday before this last thursday. aka medical check.

Worst Day Ever

We opened the door to the balcony. The light of dawn hadn't yet filled the market square and the towering ChristmasTree glowed with the screeching dying lights of a birthdaycard that's battery was dying. I do not know why they think this passes for melody. Perhaps to torture the tourists or to give nightmares to the drunks in the bushes.

We shuffled over the cobblestone with the burden of our packs and got seats for the 6am departure down the windy? highland roads. I was already lifting my eyes to the heavens, taking ginger pills, and willing myself to lose consciousness. 3 hours down. With every person bustling on and off I willed myself to sleep. To lose focus on the dips and whips and bumps. And then it was over. We stop in a bus terminal with an odd assortment of people more awake and wideeyed than i. I sat eating sunflower seeds and drinking soda water. Contemplating actual breakfast besides a Clif Bar. But think, I'd better not. We stood in line for the bathroom, got our portion of toilet paper, then more sitting, and watching a cat nearby under a table. And a police officer who won't let us put our feet up on chairs... I turn enviously to the two guys eating chow mein. And the girl with the danish and the other 2 with marshmellows.

An hour and a half later our next bus ride mostly on flat lands through town and into the countryside was blissfully straight but trecherously noisy. As the motor drummed near my front seat and the driver honked at every passerby and passing truck and car. I portioned my sips of water. Finished, reluctantly the last of my dried apple slices, and had more sunflower seeds. And when I saw signs for Wendys... i thought yes, definitely I will go there. If we get there... if we ever get there. I reluctantly said no to leeche nuts in bags and curious pizza slices in plastic. And after 2 passing accidents, a dead dog in the road, I thought for sure I saw a dead cow far up on the left, black and white, just lying there. I leaned in closer to the mocking trash bags, and sighed relief, and turned again to contemplations of the consuming deceptive jungle with its beautiful palm trees and ferns grown up and along them.

By 3:30 we stumbled off the bus and into a quiet but fast and reckless taxi..taxi,taxi,taxi... which dumped us off at a dusty ferry terminal... where I bought more water. Ate a little bit of a Clif Bar and pondered the gentle meandering pace of an hour and a half ride. Was relaxed. Played a card game. Watched the man with the cigar, and wondered who frequented these islands and why did they confiscate mariana's beer.

But 20 minutes in as the ferry drummed along, was simultaneously hit with a 1-2 punch from left to right I began to regret that I didn't take more ginger pills or something stronger and the vibration and steady thwak thwak thwak was pulling me down into the depths of unconsciousness as I willed myself to stay awake and fixed on the horizon, as every close of eye rung a deathnell in my ears. My head dipped down once... again... the sun disappeared and the points became blurred and shades of grey...as the clouds gathered and hung glorious but ominously low. Until an hour in and i was breaking into a clammy, suspicious sweat on my brow, mumbling and angry at God for my delicate equilibrium, how my earth bound nature physically demanded I move slow and was not happy even at efficient speeds breaking over the water or down a mountain. And then I passed out again. And back up. I'm awake. I'm awake.

And asked my new danish friend Allneida for a bag. And up came thrice a clif bar and water, that had been sitting there nonoffensively for not very long. And maybe it was the ginger but the acidity in my stomach was very low, and I know the result could've been much worse. But as she handed me bag after bag, and a tissue... and the sweat dissipated and the tears of sickness crusted onto my salty skin we finally made it into port. I clutched the bag tightly and thought good god, get me the hell off this boat. Having not thrown up because of motion sickness since I was younger I thought, now surely, is this trip going to all at once make me regret climbing mountains, or even leaving the country, and bringing me every few days to the lowest points of low.

Around 630pm we boarded a shuttle to the hotel. And I clenched the handle bar and the window and thought what god forsaken place have I come. This island is death and bramble and pitch darkness as the car sped and curved up over and around, mocking me, and ensuring my complete and utter demise.

By 7 I was listing in the hotel lobbey. Staring at the cup of noodles I was going to try and eat along with some crackers... and nodding no, thumbs down, to all who asked if i was ok.

By 8 I was propped up in my room, feeling better enough to switch the channel from the weather channel to abc... to the small but significant consulation of pushing daisies and I was slowly with each step dipping into the noodles and crackers, and slidding further down on my bed, which my mate julie, gave me the double, bcs she was for 2 seconds feeling better than I was. . . and I turned off the fan as the motion made me more ill... inconceivable but true.

And by 9 I was fully reclined... and slipping blissfully to sleep... where possibly the nightmarish effects of malaria pills, drunken australians and my now very sick roommate kept intruding upon my peace, but so happy was I to be still it didn't seem to matter very much at all.