Kai... Bai... Bo!

Growing up, I heard horror story after horror story from my mother about her teaching profession and all the bull that goes along with it. Though overall I think she has cherished her experiences as a teacher, there are things that come with the job that would make even the sanest person a bit mad. Every once in a while, I would spend an afternoon in her classroom and was able to witness first hand the fighting, nagging, whining, and complaining she endures on a daily basis. I swore that I would NEVER, ever become a teacher. As fate would have it, teaching is now my primary occupation.

Though I have no teaching experience in the US, I have right to believe that teaching Korean children is not at all like teaching Americans. For the most part, Koreans are honest, reasonable, and respectful students, most likely a result of the ideals and values of both their nation and family placed upon them. That, in addition to, the wonderful game of "rock, paper, scissors."

Never do I ever have students fight over who gets to erase the board, or go first in a game. While two Western female students might fight over the seat farthest from the nearest boy, it doesn't happen here. This is all a result of the popular hand game that is no doubt the universal and ultimate decider in Korea. Whenever a minor dispute arises amongst two or more people, it is automatically assumed that these said people should play a game of 가외 바위 보, or "kai, bai, bo." "Kai" means scissors, "bai" is rock, and "bo" is cloth, a slight variation of the westernized game. Despite the small difference, the rules of the game are the same, and the result is final. The game ultimately decides a winner and settles any dispute; when I say any, I mean it.

I have seen people of all ages play this game throughout the entirety of my stay in Seoul. I once witnessed a group of young guys at a restaurant play to decide who would get to eat the last piece of barbecued meat off the grill. Another time, I saw the game played between two girls on a bus over the last vacant seat. The most memorable game I came across- not to mention the cutest- was in the subway. A middle aged couple was sitting on the seats and their child, about 3 years old, was in a stroller in front of them trying with great effort to get out. After a few attempts to pacify the child, the child was reluctant to stop his attempts. The dad eventually gave in to a game of kai, bai, bo. The kid won, and because one cannot argue the outcome of the game, the dad took his son out of the stroller and set him on his lap. Needless to say, the kid looked pretty proud of himself.

My students play "kai, bai, bo" in game room class to see who will pull out the first Jenga block.

I was surprised by how many people play this game, but I recently learned that it was probably invented in Asia, most likely Japan or China, about two thousand years ago. Since then, it has spread across borders, but seems to have become especially influential in Korea. It has also become an icon of Korean culture, as exhibited on this t-shirt created by an expat living in Seoul. It's no wonder that arguments are so easily settled in Korea. Or that the crime rate is close to zilch. Maybe it's just a coincidence, but doesn't most person-on-person crime usually result from an escalating, unsettled disagreement?

Kai, bai, bo has become an icon of Korean culture, as exhibited by this t-shirt designed by a fellow expat living in Seoul for his clothing line, Babo Shirts.

I asked a Korean friend if she had ever used the game in resolving disputes. She told me that once she and a few of her friends had gone to a bar and all had an eye for the same guy. Partly as a joke, they played the game. Sure enough, the winner of the game had the right to approach him without any interference from her friends. Sure, this may seem a bit crazy, but think about all the cat fights a little game of rock, paper, scissors could solve in Girl World! Not to mention, it would surely save teachers from consuming excessive amounts of Tylenol (or margaritas... ah hem, mom!)

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

This time of the year is most definitely my favorite. The cooler weather, the leaves changing colors, football games taking place, and fall fashions are a few of the reasons for my loving it so much. Still, the thing that I like most about this time of year are the multitude of holidays that take place in such a small frame of time. Anyone at home who knows me knows that I go all out to celebrate any special day on the calendar; being thousands of miles from home has no effect on this.

Although Halloween is not a holiday typically recognized in Korea, businesses are finding that holding events to celebrate the day is quite profitable. This year, leading hotels in Seoul, such as the Marriot and the Grand Hyatt, held fancy parties complete with bands, DJs, drinks, food, and of course costume contests, charging $30-$100 per person. I don't know anyone who attended these parties, but I have read in places that celebrities often make appearances at these events. I was more interested in the bar scene, but considering I had to work the day following Halloween, my options were quite limited. Because of this, I opted to check out Club Day in Hongdae on Halloween Eve.

My Korean friend, who had never celebrated Halloween before, agreed to come along. Our first stop was one of the five Ho Bars which boasted some great Halloween decor: cobwebs along the ceiling, hanging jack-o-lanterns, creepy noises playing over the speakers, and bartenders dressed as insane asylum patients. My favorite touch was the large screen TVs showing only static. I was waiting for Samara from The Ring to crawl out. Afterwards, we met with Adam, my newfound Mississippi friend at Gogo's for happy hour, then bought our Club Day ticket. Club Day, held on the last Friday of each month, is particularly popular with young people, both Koreans and foreigners alike. One pays $20 and has access to a variety of clubs and bars. After a few drinks, Emily and I built up the courage to put on our costumes, though no one else was wearing them. I didn't care, and was determined to celebrate Halloween the right way. We had a blast dancing around Hongdae as a schoolgirl and ladybug. I turned in once the subways opened and got a few hours of sleep before the next festivities.

Loving the Halloween decor at Ho Bar in Hongdae.

Bartenders dressed up as insane asylum patients and really got into character. So much so that one of the girls was crawling backward down the staircase as we left. Exorcist, much?

After waking up, I dressed up in my costume, which was mandated by my school for the special Halloween program we were hosting. I dressed as Guem Jan Di, the lead character of my favorite Korean drama, which I have blogged about before. I have to admit proudly that my costume was pretty dead on. Perhaps my physical features won't let me pass as Korean, but the kids still loved it and to this day call me "Guem Jan Di teacher." I spent the day carving jack-o-lanterns and passing out candy to trick-or-treating students. We even had a haunted house and held "Dracula's Festival" complete with Halloween themed games.

Students learn how to carve jack-o-lanterns in pumpkin carving class.

Kindies in costumes is by far the cutest thing ever. My favorite was this little police officer.

I had to make a few small changes, but I loved being Geum Jan Di for a day.

Though Halloween is mostly celebrated in America, I predict that it will be widely celebrated in Korea in a few years. "Halloween Day" is a new word in the Korean language (though it's English), costume rental stores are growing in number, and most English schools hold events similar to the one held at my English village. It's just a matter of time before this holiday contributes to the continuing westernization of Korea.

Still, Korea has its own commercial holidays. Shortly after Halloween, displays were set up at grocery stores and bakeries while posters were plastered on the windows of 7 Elevens and Buy the Ways, all of which promoting Pepero Day. A pepero is a wafer-like cookie stick dipped halfway in chocolate manufactured by Lotte, an extremely large company in Korea. Legend has it that this holiday began in 1994 when some schoolgirls noticed that when placed together, four Pepero sticks resembled four 1s, thus 11-11 (November 11th). They then traded Pepero sticks on this day in hopes they would grow as tall and as slender as a Pepero. In my book, chocolate is known to have the opposite effect, but I guess I see the point. Still, it's more widely accepted that Lotte contrived this holiday as a means for making money, what else?

Despite how it started, it has become a very popular holiday amongst couples, much the same as Valentine's Day is in the United States. As if the couples' outfits, couples' discounts, and the other existing couples' holidays weren't enough! Other brands and companies have begun to manufacture variations of the snack and it can now be found in a multitude of flavors and sizes. I noticed that many stores offered Pepero gift baskets containing teddy bears in addition to the snack. One can even buy a kit to make his or her own treats to distribute amongst friends, family, and lovers. Despite its commercialism, raking in millions of dollars, mind you, it is a fun and tasty holiday.

An aisle of Pepero: nude, chocolate, and chocolate almond. Pepero is a cheap treat, costing about 50-75 cents per box.

A Pepero display at E-mart promoting Pepero Day on November 11th.

Speaking of tasty, Thanksgiving is coming up soon and while I will miss my aunt's delicious sweet potatoes and mom's cornbread dressing, I have been told that many restaurants around the city do a good Thanksgiving dinner. It's amazing to be across the world and still able to celebrate my country's traditions, all the while practicing some new ones. We may have our differences, but celebrating, for whatever reason, isn't one of them. Apparently decorating for Christmas ridiculously early isn't, either.

Off the Beaten Track

A helmet-less child and a middle aged man ride up the hill that I'm descending. Their motorcycle suddenly stops in front of me, just next to a closed doorway and the little boy, no older than six, demounts the rumbling bike. The boy bows toward the man. "Kamsa hamneeda," he thanks his elder before turning and hopping over the threshold. I hear him shout something to his mother. Laundry hangs above on a clothesline and I hear a customer seemingly negotiating the price of a bundle of garlic with a vendor nearby. An elderly woman sitting on the corner depoding some sort of beans shoots me a toothless smile as I walk on. It's little moments like these that I soon remember where I am.

A customer negotiates the price of a bundle of garlic on an alley in Daehangro. Yes, that's garlic!

It's surprisingly easy to forget one is in Asia at times when the city in which you live is becoming increasingly modern with each passing day. When walking in the city, it's impossible to ignore the westernization of Korea. Take a glance around and you will see a McDonald's, Outback, GAP, or FedEx somewhere within view. Teenagers wear shirts displaying English messages. Beyonce or the Black Eyed Peas are usually within earshot. Still, there are places where one can escape this city facelift. Such places can only be found off the beaten track.

Hyehwa, also known as Daehangro, has come to be one of my favorite neighborhoods in Seoul, especially considering the fact that it's only a twenty minute bus ride from my school and just off my line on the subway. It is most well known for its theater culture. In fact, a theater can be found on just about every block in the area and there are plays of all genres performed all the time. Promoters are constantly on the look out for new patrons, passing out fliers or telling you a joke. At any given time, one can enjoy a street performance held in Marronnier Park or the near vicinity. I have seen everything from belly dancing to b-boxing to interpretive performances; such street events have a tendency to draw in crowds. Hyehwa also boasts some great restaurants, live jazz clubs, and some classy joints to get a nice glass of wine (or a cocktail in a Ziplock bag!)

Still, what I enjoy most about the area can be found within a short 15 minute walk from the central district. Recently, I found myself wandering about and started following a sign toward Naksan Park. As the music playing near the subway became more and more distant, I wondered if I was heading in the wrong direction. I continued to move forward and soon came upon a quaint residential area, as I described in the opening paragraph. Taking in the surroundings, I continued up the winding staircase, following the arrows. I passed colorful murals painted on the facades of some random buildings and they seem to fit in very appropriately with the artsy vibe of the neighborhood.

Korean homes along a flight of stairs ascending Naksan.

Murals painted on buildings add vibrancy to the quiet neighborhood.

After another twenty minutes or so, I found myself in the park, atop the hill on which I was climbing. Though out of shape and out of breath, the views proved to be very worth the effort and the risk of potentially getting lost. With the exception of two old men drinking soju nearby, it was extremely quiet and peaceful. The air was clear, crisp, and clean. I found myself at a fortress wall and took in the beautiful scenery below. Though it's pushing it, I might even use the analogy that Naksan/Hyehwa is to Seoul what Monmartre is to Paris. And yes, I realize that I just compared Seoul to Paris, but it's the same concept, nevertheless.

A view of the city alongside the fortress wall.

Walking the path up the mountain provides for some peace and quiet in addition to the great views.

Going back down the mountain, I took my time passing through the neighborhood once more and enjoyed the essentially Asian environment surrounding me. I passed some ajummas who generously offered to share fruit with me. A young girl washed cabbage with her mother, no doubt to later make kimchi. I was soon once again in the heart of Hyehwa and found myself ordering a green tea latte at a European-style cafe and marking down my new found escape. It's nice, even if only for an hour, to get away from a westernized Seoul and immerse oneself into a more indigenous Korean neighborhood.

Happy Chuseok!

After returning to work after a week-long adventure-packed week abroad, I knew that I would be programming rather than teaching, as per the new rule created from the increased swine flu paranoia. Considering programming consists of anything from writing lesson plans to coloring Halloween posters to making balloon animals, I was completely okay with this. In fact, I welcomed the break to refuel after my long week. You can imagine my excitement when I learned that I would only have to show up to work for a few short days. I hadn't realized it before, but the Korean holiday, Chuseok, was upon us; thus, I would be enjoying an extra long weekend.

Some coin Chuseok, "Korean Thanksgiving," though I don't understand why. Though the holiday is encapsulated by concepts of love, family, and food, its roots are different than those of the overly-commercialized American holiday. Chuseok spans three days, beginning on August 15th of the lunar calendar, when the Full Moon Harvest takes place. Chuseok's orgin dates back about two thousand years to the time of the Silla King Euri, who ruled during the Three Kingdoms period. At the time, he desired to expand the weaving industry and organized a nation-wide weaving contest, in which the losers were to prepare certain foods for the winners. It soon developed to be a time to honor ancestors with newly harvested grains and fruits.

Even today, there is no corny holiday decor plastered on department store windows. There are no sales pitches or discounts on commercialized memorabilia. In fact, I highly doubt there's even a greeting card designated for this day. What one does find is generosity. I decided to do some grocery shopping at Lotte department store a few days before the holiday weekend and was taken back by the crowds taking over the produce section and lined up at the check-out counters. I soon realized that these people were racking up on items to give to their families and loved ones to celebrate Chuseok. Of these items, gift sets seem to be the most popular picks.

Let me just say... there's a gift set for everyone. A gift set of flawless fruit could run you about 100,000 won ($75) and a lobster box set (literally a box with a pair of lobster) could cost you even more. SPAM gift sets were plentiful, as SPAM is often seen as a hot commodity here; it is seemingly more expensive in Korea. From my observations, Koreans place functionality and practicality as priorities when giving a gift and who can blame them? I hate giving (or receiving) a gift that I know will never be used. Therefore, I could only be grateful for the set my school gave me as a Chuseok gift: a set of eight tubes of Korean toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, and bar soap.

Gift sets on sale during Chuseok. Of these, SPAM seems to be the most popular.

Gifts aside, Koreans spend the holiday with a focus primarily on family. Families travel to their hometowns to spend time with grandparents and family members. Anytime Koreans gather in groups, hearty eating is involved; the females of the family often make a traditional meal. This meal usually consists of japchae, bulgogi, and various fruits. Just like our Thanksgiving would be incomplete without the turkey, Chuseok would not be right without songpyeon, full moon rice cakes stuffed with sesame, beans, chestnuts, rice flour and newly harvested grains. And might I add that they are delicious! Families then visit the graves of their deceased ancestors to remember and honor their past family.

A traditional Chuseok meal on display at the Korea House.

As with most holidays, the majority of non-franchised stores and restaurants close and there is a bit less traffic, at least here in Seoul. I had been told that Seoul would temporarily transform into a ghost town; I soon learned this was not the case. There were plenty of events going on throughout the city. On a whim, I headed out to the Hanok Village on Namsan in Chungmuro. Though it was packed with people, there was plenty going on, including traditional games once played during Chuseok. There was kite flying and mask making for the hanbok-doned children in addition to drumming and dancing performances. An old man made traditional Korean popcorn while teenagers competed to see who could pound rice cakes harder. There were also exhibits of a traditional Chuseok meal spread at Korea House, near the hanok village.

Families gather at the hanok village to celebrate traditional Korean activities.

Performers celebrating Chuseok.

A young boy practices making rice cakes.

I had been expecting to see only foreigners at the Hanok Village, but happened to only see a few. Instead, almost all of the visitors were Korean families, which I thought was pretty cool. In a city that continues to modernize daily, it is nice to see families returning to their roots and preserving and passing on traditional culture. I can only hope that Chuseok, a truly meaningful time of the year, can stay true to its roots... and never find its namesake on a Hallmark card.

Green Curry and Grasshoppers

Some travel to see the world. I think it's more important to travel to learn something, whether it be to speak a new language or play a land's traditional instrument, to broaden one's mind and capabilities. When planning my trip to Thailand, I decided that I, too, would attempt to further my own knowledge and ability. Considering my passion for food, taking a cooking class seemed to be the most obvious way to do so. I had been looking forward to this since my arrival in the country and the morning had finally come.

Like other tours, I booked a spot in advance with Silom Cooking School. After looking at other cooking classes, I found this one to be the best value (only 1000 baht/$30) for a 4 hour class in which students learn how to cook 6 different dishes. The program exceeded my expectations, even upon my arrival to the meeting spot, where our instructor, Nusi, greeted us with a flamboyant enthusiasm. After everyone had arrived- we had a fantastic group- we were each given baskets and were led to the nearby market.

Nusi walked with us and explained how to find the best food for the best price. He pointed each ingredient out and gave a bit of information about it (how to tell if it's ripe or what makes it different from other items) before putting it in one of our baskets. We were able to sample some foods, like the just-made palm sugar. I snapped some pictures, but none of them could do justice to the vibrancy of the market. I wish there were a camera that could capture smells and tastes. As much as I love photography, the images of the market only encompass a fraction of the experience. The coconuts shells being ground... the scent of curries being mixed... the freshness of each item of produce.. even the odor of fish being put on ice... those things are what made this such an experience. I suppose this is true for all travel experiences, but it proves especially true in animated areas, such as markets.

A man grinds coconuts into pieces used for making coconut milk.

Once we arrived in the adorable "classroom" we were instructed how to clean and cut each ingredient, based on what the recipes called for. Our group bonded as we cut lemongrass, sliced ginger, and washed limes. We then gathered in a room, put on some colorful patch-work aprons, and learned how to prepare our first dish, Pad Thai. We sat on the floor as we gathered and made final preparations to the ingredients before taking them to our individualized cooking stations. We then cooked the dish on a gas stove with traditional Thai utensils. It was actually incredibly easy and very fast. We then enjoyed our noodles and moved promptly to start cooking the next dish.

Our group gathers to prepare ingredients for making Thai dishes.

Cooking up that good grub.

All together, in addition to the Pad Thai, we learned how to make coconut milk, Tom Yum Gung (a delicious spicy shrimp soup), green curry with chicken, Laab Gai (a northern Thai chicken salad served over sticky rice), and rubies in coconut milk (water chestnuts with tapioca starch boiled in water- a nice dessert). I felt most accomplished in making the green curry paste, as it was very difficult and time consuming. After adding the ingredients into a stone mortar, we all took turns breaking a sweat by pounding the herbs and spices together. After about a half hour of doing this, it was finally at the right consistency. I was able to learn the traditional way of making curry paste, but you better believe I'll be getting the pre-packaged stuff when making Thai dishes in the future.

Nusi instructing us how to make 'rubies in coconut milk', a Thai dessert.

We stuffed ourselves with our culinary masterpieces. The portions were huge and some decided to doggy-bag it, but you know I finished it all on the spot. I was talking to Rhea, a Filipino girl in my group, and she brought up a good point. Though activities such as these are lots of fun, the real experience is sharing them with new friends and people from all walks of life, as we had during the day. I loved learning to cook, but the most fun memories from the afternoon involved those of our group breaking out into a percussion performance with the utensils and laughing at our hilarious instructor's jokes. She was definitely right.

Afterwards, I headed back to MBK to pick up the computer programs I hadn't had enough money to buy the day before. I made sure to make it an in-and-out visit as to not be tempted to spend any more money. On my way out, I witnessed a very interesting sight. Hundreds of teenagers were gathered around barricades where auditions for a reality television show, Hello Korea (think So You Think You Can Dance meets Asia), were being held. There were groups practicing choreographed dance moves off to the side, all dressed in vibrant costumes. I was amazed at how many girly sailor costumes there were and even more amazed at the fact that the majority of those wearing them were ladyboys... teenager ladyboys. This aspect about Thailand contributed to the majority of my culture shock, as I had become so used to the extreme conservatism that defines Korea, where homosexuality is still very taboo. I guess you could say it was refreshing to see the opposite end of the spectrum. Still, it's amazing how close two countries can be geographically but so different culturally.

The auditions proved to be wonderfully entertaining and I found myself standing there watching them for a good hour. After searching Google, I was able to find some video clips from the same audition I saw. Check them out here and here. You can decide if the Diva Dolls dancing to Britney and After School are boys or girls. All of these videos show the performers dancing to Korean pop music. It really is interesting that Korean pop music is more popular than Thai pop music, especially considering Thais don't speak Korean, or I wouldn't imagine they do.

After enjoying the free show, I headed to Khao San Road a final time where I enjoyed a good dinner. On my walk back to my hotel, I stopped by an unusual snack cart. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the vendor was selling a variety of fried insects. Following the first of the traveler's commandments ("When in Rome..") I decided to end my gastronomic adventure by ordering a grasshopper. The man sprayed some soy sauce on it and I toasted with some other girls trying it. I couldn't really taste any flavor past the soy sauce, so it wasn't bad. The texture was okay as well, though the legs could easily be identified when chewing.

Grasshopper doesn't exactly taste like chicken... but it doesn't taste bad, either.

I packed up my ridiculous amount of luggage and woke up at 4AM on Sunday. Coincidentally, there was a taxi driver hanging out in my hotel lobby, so he loaded up my bags in the cab and headed off to the airport. I wanted to sleep, but he was quite chatty and insisted on blaring an old TLC album. So, there in my last hour in Thailand, the sun not yet having risen, I sang "No Scrubs" with an old man who spoke very little English. Though bizarre, I felt this was a perfect ending to my trip in the quintessentially colorful, mysterious, strange, and friendly country of Thailand. It was then back to reality... though I still find difficulty in considering my life in Korea anything close to reality.

Karma Chameleon

Let's just say my initial plan of seeing the iconic floating markets of Bangkok on Friday morning fell through when I woke up with a ridiculous headache. After popping a few Tylenol, I finally rolled out of bed and stuffed myself with banana pancakes and fresh OJ, the Thai tourist breakfast specialty. It was then off to the Grand Palace, as any visit to Bangkok would be incomplete without seeing the striking complex.

Upon entering Wat Phra Kaew ("Temple of the Emerald Buddha"), one feels as if he or she has been transported into a Thai fairy-tale; golden spires reach toward the sky as demon statues peer ahead in war-like poses, holding up the majestic chedis. An air of grandeur permeates amidst the palace walls, but Buddhists who have made the pilgrimage to this religious destination remain serene and humble. The area consists of over 100 Ratanakosin-style buildings that represent 200 years of royal history; with the exception of wide-eyed, camera-happy tourists, it seems that time almost stands still.

The view upon entering the grounds.

Demons hold up the golden chedi.

The Emerald Buddha housed in the temple is one of the most venerated sights among Buddhists, hence the name of the temple. I had expected it to be very different than what it actually is: a small emerald Buddha that is barely visible, even once one is inside the temple. The decor that surrounds it, however, is spectacular. The statue is dressed in robes according to the season (hot, cool, and rainy) and sits atop a grand alter adorned with gold. Visitors can sit to pray and I decided to join the crowd. I was happy that I had read up on my Thai etiquette and knew never to have my toes pointing toward Buddah; those foreigners who did stood out.

Another embellishment that I was particularly fond of was the murals painted on the temple's interior walls. The murals illustrate the saga of the Ramakien, the Thai version of the Indian epic Ramayana. I snuck into a group touring the temple and was able to catch the guide's description of the tale. The story acts as a series of fables of sorts and conceptualizes conflicts of duty and moral obligations to different people or in various situations. Rama is portrayed as a human, rather than a supernatural being, with all the accompanying shortcomings. He encounters and struggles with moral dilemmas but eventually prevails by simply adhering to the Dharma, the righteous way of Buddhists.

The beautifully detailed mural depicting the story of the Ramakien lined the interior temple walls.

After visiting the Grand Palace, the former royal residence, I took a stroll through the amulet market. I didn't know where I was at first, but I had remembered reading about it in my guidebook and finally made the connection. The streets of this makeshift and somewhat bizarre market were lined with tables covered in little good luck charms (in addition to dentures- yes, dentures!), most of which were small stones engraved with images of Buddha. Varying in color and some even containing colorful gemstones, buyers purchase these talismans in hopes that they will bring good luck. Perhaps my eye was untrained, as they all looked alike, but it is said that each amulet has a specific type of luck, whether it be in romance, in business, or in harvest. After this, I soon noticed that all of my taxi and tuk-tuk drivers had these in their vehicles. But, buyers beware: there has been recent controversy that some of these amulets are not properly blessed, causing a decrease in amulet sales. Yes, even the amulet economy is down.

A vendor sells popular good luck charms in the amulet market.

The Buddhist influence in Thailand is undeniable, especially in places like these. Considering more than 90% of Thais are Buddhists, it is understandable as to why the religion is so influential in the iconology of Thailand. Monks draped in orange sheets, as I've posted previously, is synonymous with the country, and the community of these men is highly revered among its people. So much so that when I was in the market, I watched a very elderly woman bump into a monk as she was walking. She turned toward him and upon seeing her terrible mistake, she bowed down to him, apologizing profusely. I can only guess she was trying to reverse her karma so she wouldn't end up as a grasshopper or one of those albino lizards that seem to be everywhere in her next life. The monk turned and chuckled a bit with his other monk friends.

I wanted to see Jim Thompson's house, a supposedly stunning example of teak architecture, so I got a tuk tuk to Siam Square. As fate would have it, I was dropped off at the colossal MBK shopping center. Architecture was soon placed at the bottom of my to-do list and so began my extensive shopping spree. I almost didn't know where to begin as I took in the hundreds of visible small shopping stalls and the directory of the rest of building. Anything from fake Chanel purses to cheap iPhones to home furniture could be purchased here and it was on this day that my luggage doubled. I will stand by my assertion that this is seriously the best shopping in the world. When purchasing a few copies of Rosetta Stone, however, I realized that I was out of cash. This was not a problem, as there were tons of ATMs in every which direction. The problem was, however, that my debit card was gone. To this day, I do not know how I lost it. It could have been those bucket drinks on my first night on Khao San, but I think that I must have left it in the ATM when withdrawing money on my first day in Bangkok. It could have even been the result of some previous bad karma. Who knows? Needless to say, the shopping was tragically put to end as I only had enough cash to get a ride back to my hotel. Dad wasn't happy about this one.

View from the first floor in the MBK Center.

I couldn't escape Korean pop music, even in Thailand, where it seems that it is the only music played. In this music store in the MBK Center, an entire aisle was dedicated to K-pop music groups: Wondergirls, Shinee, Super Junior, and Rain just to name a few.

Fortunately enough (and by the grace of God), this is commonly occurring happening in Thailand and the Western Union on Khao San stayed open until 11pm. My dad saved the day by wiring me some money. Fears aside, and wallet replenished, I did what any girl would do: more shopping. I did, after all, have to find additional luggage to hold all my new goodies.

Getting to Know You, Bangkok

Rachel and I woke up the next morning and grabbed a bite to eat before I jumped in the back of a songthaew (a red truck taxi) to get to the airport. These cabs have extra long covered beds to accomidate large numbers of people. You may share the cab with a bunch of strangers, but at least you're getting a good deal. The Chiang Mai airport is ridiculously small and somewhat ghetto, so I was checked in and through airport security in a matter of minutes. I purchased a Thai iced tea (seriously, the best drink in the world) and browsed through the airport bookstore. Figuring I might need some reading material for the plane, I grabbed a copy of "The Beach" by Alex Garland. I had never seen the movie, but knew the book took place in Thailand, so I figured it would make for a good read. It made the the hour-long flight to Bangkok fly by and before I knew it, I was in the taxi on my way to my hotel, the Lamphu Tree Hotel. Many travelers make the trek from Chiang Mai to Bangkok via an overnight train, but I was glad that I paid the extra $50 for a flight. A bunch of people who I talked to that had taken the train had all been robbed. I, too, would sono learn what it would be like to be without cash or access to it, but at least that would be my own fault.

My hotel was in a great location and had superior service. As soon as I walked in the doors of the open-air lobby, I was greeted by a bellman who took my bags and a gentleman who served me a cocktail on a silver platter. I got settled into my room and then decided I'd check out Khao San Road, the famous backpackers' mecca of guesthouses, bars, restaurants, and some seriously sketchy massage parlors. It's also the setting where "The Beach" begins, so I felt prepared for what I would find there. I took a quick look around; there wasn't much going on so I bought a bag of spring rolls, jumped in a tuk-tuk and headed toward the Chao Phraya river. Soon, I had people haggling me to buy anything from tour packages to fake sunglasses. The haggling- "Hey, Madame..." "Tuk Tuk. 50 baht!" "Excuse me, beautiful..."- was the one thing that I absolutely loathed about Thailand and being a foreigner automatically makes one a target for these shenanigans. I don't know how long term expats live there without being driven completely crazy having to put up with it everyday. As informed as I was on the scams of Thailand, I ended up being conned into paying $15 to take a water taxi across the river to one of Bangkok's most famous sights, Wat Arun. I knew something wasn't right when I was the only person on the boat, and the water taxi next to me was completely packed. I later learned that those people payed 50 cents to get across. Still, the quick ride across the river was a nice way to see the cityscape from the water.

Nowhere better to eat pad thai and spring rolls than on the street.

My water taxi on the river.

A woman trying to sell bracelets and other wares and a young child trying to charm a guy into buying a rose for his girlfriend... in a restaurant!

I only had thirty minutes to spend at Wat Arun. I was already inappropriately dressed (a skirt and a tank top) and didn't feel like shelling out the extra money to rent a sarong, so I just walked around the exterior of the temple grounds. Wat Arun was a very stunning sight and a beautiful example of Thai architecture. The Grand Palace was also visible and I felt a bit like Anna from "The King and I" as she and her son first arrived in Bangkok: excited, mystified, and undeniably curious. I was even called "sir" a few times during my stay there. It would be wrong to say Bangkok is like any other city in the world, as it may seem at first. There truly is something fascinating about it, though I can't quite explain it in words. It's one of those things that can only be felt, especially in the presence of a temple as majestic of Wat Arun.

The stunning Wat Arun.

I headed back to the hotel for a dip in the pool and took full advantage of the bar/restaurant just a few feet away in the lobby. After a few Singapore Slings and Mai Tais, I showered, and headed back to Khao San Road. I decided I'd pass on the street food and settled down at a restaurant to catch up on my travel journal. The great thing about restaurants is that the food is incredibly delicious, but costs only a fraction more than the food on the street. Restaurants on Khao San Road boast an energetic atmosphere. And new friends, apparently. Just as I was about to leave, I met Katie, an English girl my age. We got to chatting a bit and she invited me back to her table for a few drinks. There ended up being about eight people at the table, but the number continued to grow as we recruited others traveling alone. By the end of the night, I had made new friends of all ages from all corners of the globe. Some had been traveling the region for months, others just arriving in Thailand. Some were about to embark on another adventure to other exotic lands, while still others were planning on working in Bangkok for a while. This is, hands down, my favorite thing about traveling. Travelers, from my experience, generally share similar personality characteristics: passionate, friendly, open-minded, and laid back. This combination is a catalyst for good communication and easy getting along; within an hour or so, I felt like I had known these people for ages.

Khao San Road, a.k.a. Asia's backpacker mecca.

Ronald McDonald "weing" to passerbys.

Among the seedy establishments and activities of Bangkok, getting a fake driver's license or college degree is just a matter of money.

After a few rounds of beer and bucket drinks (buckets full of your choice of cocktail, characteristically Thai), we went for a walk down Khao San. As we wandered around, it became obvious that the famous location becomes a bit more explicit once the sun sets. Vendors agreed to make fake IDs and licenses for a fair price, masseuses promise to "love you long time", and old skeezball men try to sell you tickets to ping pong shows. I'm not even going to go into detail as to what they are, but no, there is no table tennis involved. We made our way to a nearby club where we partied til the sun came up, taking shots and dancing with ladyboys. Like I said, there's just something about Bangkok.