Breakdancing is cool, I've always thought it was cool. When I was at school in Utah I took a breakdancing class at the field house, and I learned some cool moves, but they didn't offer a follow up course the second semester, and I never practiced the few moves I did learn and so any nascent skills I had never turned into anything. It's too bad, it's easy to think about how much time has passed since then and think about how good I could have potentially become if I had kept practicing a lot.
When I came to Korea, I knew that this country had a lot of skilled bboys, and I had the vague goal of finding some battles or events to check out but I never really remembered to look into it at all when I was killing time on the internet.
A while back I saw a trailer for a breakdancing documentary called Planet BBoy, and it was finally released on DVD, and thus made available to internet piracy, a couple months ago. After I downloaded and watched it, I got fired up on breakdancing and plunged into the internet to find some events going down in Korea, figuring a weekend trip up to Seoul was due anyway. After scanning through a bunch of crap results from Google late Friday night I found a forum that had a two-on-two battle listed for the following weekend at the Daegu YMCA. This was triply convenient since the timing was right, it was in my city, and it was at the YMCA where I went every Saturday for Korean-language classes anyway.
The next day I had my Korean class and confirmed the event and got super pumped up. The following weekend, after class and lunch, I showed up at the gym and there were a bunch of Korean people milling around, practicing and what not. The battle itself was quite long - first every team got a chance to battle another team, with the teams getting better later in the first round. It took at least an hour, and during the break before the next round a lot people left which was too bad since the following rounds were when the bboys broke out the big moves - the windmills and flips and choreographed two-man dances and moves using the other partner.
Here's a demo by one of the judges who is from the Gamblerz crew, a team that won the Battle of the Year in 2004, which is basically the World Cup of breakdancing, and the subject of the documentary Planet BBoy:
There was even a team of waygooks (foreigners) which was pretty cool to see, but only one of them was good even though they made it as far as the semi-finals. This was due entirely to the skill of the one guy, and particularly one move where he removed his hat in the midst of windmilling, put it in his mouth, froze the windmill, and flipped it with his mouth back onto his head as an ending move.
Here's another video of the other semi-final battle. Check out how ridiculously flexible the one team is:
The team in the foreground won and went on to the final battle for 300,000 Won. Too bad I never kept up practice from those classes in college, that could've been me on film. Except for the dudes on the really flexible team, I could never do that.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Life Sucks!
I am full of life. Miserable, miserable life. It's growing inside of me, oozing out of my mouth and nose, and it's not my life, and it's making me sick. I don't know exactly what sort of life it is, but I don't want it in me any more. I've been sick to varying degrees for three weeks now. The fluctuations have been such that most of the days that I've felt really bad have been on weekends. On one hand this has been bad because it kills my weekends, but on the other hand it's good because for most of the time I've felt really bad I didn't have to deal with classrooms full of screaming Korean teenagers.
Back when I was at Golgul Temple, eating vegetarian food in typical Buddhist fashion with a bunch of other foreigners on the tour, I nailed a huge mosquito as it was buzzing around our food. I felt pretty good about my reflexes, and ridding the world of one more pest until I realized that Buddhists are against killing anything, as far as my limited knowledge on Buddhism is concerned, and that had any of the monks noticed my lethal instinct-driven reflexes, they probably wouldn't be that impressed. Well, whatever. What about right now, when there are foreign life forms in my body, causing me to cough and sneeze and have headaches and stuffy noses and fevers? Germs are a form of life, and they simply pursue the perpetuation of their own species. This is the common goal of everything living, and as far as I'm concerned, the only inarguable definition of "the meaning of life". Whatever germs are inside of me right now, while pursing their own self-preservation and reproduction, are making me feel like shit, and it is my bodies involuntary response to attempt to create a holocaust of these germs.
Our bodies have evolved to kill, or attempt to kill, any form of life that gets inside of us and gives us trouble. That's how nature works. I wonder what a Buddhist monk would say about that. I wonder what anyone who is against the destruction of life would say about that. They would probably say you should avoid killing things if possible, but unfortunately "should" and "if possible" invite inevitable differences in opinion any time they are used. I looked up "do Buddhists kill?" on Google, and one of the first hits is quite appropriate to what initially got me thinking about the subject, "Buddhists, do you kill mosquitoes?" The "best answer" listed underneath the question isn't what I found most interesting here. It's the next answer, by the lunatic who claims that mosquitoes won't bite Buddhists because real Buddhists control their smell and heat so that mosquitoes won't be attracted to them. If the internet is good for nothing else, it at least reassures you that you are smarter than someone out there.
I think it's because I am a foreigner and Koreans think I am utterly inept that my co-workers and friends take such care to make sure I am getting better. Really, this probably translates to the obvious fact that I unable to speak Korean to get help myself. When I was first feeling bad when I went into school a couple weeks ago, the nurse gave me some medicine and stayed late to personally bring me to a clinic and pharmacy after work. The next day she bought me a scarf and gave me a massive jar of citron tea (both pictured above, along with a banner that will need updating come next spring). My co-teachers keep asking me if my house is warm enough, or if my clothes are warm enough, and if the Korean weather is too cold for me. My climbing friend Ilhan brought me some homemade fungi tea, apparently rich in antioxidants and vitamins, made from fungi raised by his father, and made into a tea by his wife, and just this evening, two weeks later, he swung by my apartment to give me some warm liquid in a packet that tasted like spicy dirt, and supposedly helps to keep my temperature up, aiding my bodies natural tendency to burn germs out, otherwise known as running a fever. I know it wasn't anything too bad though, because he has a cold too, one I probably gave to him at some point, and he drank one of the packets down with me.
I hope these germs die for good soon. Recovering from a sickness, minor or not, makes me appreciate how good it is to feel healthy. I was supposed to go to a darts tournament this weekend but I was sick. I was supposed to climb in a bouldering competition, but I was sick. It's nice to feel good enough to do those things without having to think about whether you feel good enough or not. Life, in general, is a good thing, but when some strange species of life gets inside of the body that houses my own life, that strange species of life really sucks and needs to die and get the fuck out.
Back when I was at Golgul Temple, eating vegetarian food in typical Buddhist fashion with a bunch of other foreigners on the tour, I nailed a huge mosquito as it was buzzing around our food. I felt pretty good about my reflexes, and ridding the world of one more pest until I realized that Buddhists are against killing anything, as far as my limited knowledge on Buddhism is concerned, and that had any of the monks noticed my lethal instinct-driven reflexes, they probably wouldn't be that impressed. Well, whatever. What about right now, when there are foreign life forms in my body, causing me to cough and sneeze and have headaches and stuffy noses and fevers? Germs are a form of life, and they simply pursue the perpetuation of their own species. This is the common goal of everything living, and as far as I'm concerned, the only inarguable definition of "the meaning of life". Whatever germs are inside of me right now, while pursing their own self-preservation and reproduction, are making me feel like shit, and it is my bodies involuntary response to attempt to create a holocaust of these germs.
Our bodies have evolved to kill, or attempt to kill, any form of life that gets inside of us and gives us trouble. That's how nature works. I wonder what a Buddhist monk would say about that. I wonder what anyone who is against the destruction of life would say about that. They would probably say you should avoid killing things if possible, but unfortunately "should" and "if possible" invite inevitable differences in opinion any time they are used. I looked up "do Buddhists kill?" on Google, and one of the first hits is quite appropriate to what initially got me thinking about the subject, "Buddhists, do you kill mosquitoes?" The "best answer" listed underneath the question isn't what I found most interesting here. It's the next answer, by the lunatic who claims that mosquitoes won't bite Buddhists because real Buddhists control their smell and heat so that mosquitoes won't be attracted to them. If the internet is good for nothing else, it at least reassures you that you are smarter than someone out there.
I think it's because I am a foreigner and Koreans think I am utterly inept that my co-workers and friends take such care to make sure I am getting better. Really, this probably translates to the obvious fact that I unable to speak Korean to get help myself. When I was first feeling bad when I went into school a couple weeks ago, the nurse gave me some medicine and stayed late to personally bring me to a clinic and pharmacy after work. The next day she bought me a scarf and gave me a massive jar of citron tea (both pictured above, along with a banner that will need updating come next spring). My co-teachers keep asking me if my house is warm enough, or if my clothes are warm enough, and if the Korean weather is too cold for me. My climbing friend Ilhan brought me some homemade fungi tea, apparently rich in antioxidants and vitamins, made from fungi raised by his father, and made into a tea by his wife, and just this evening, two weeks later, he swung by my apartment to give me some warm liquid in a packet that tasted like spicy dirt, and supposedly helps to keep my temperature up, aiding my bodies natural tendency to burn germs out, otherwise known as running a fever. I know it wasn't anything too bad though, because he has a cold too, one I probably gave to him at some point, and he drank one of the packets down with me.
I hope these germs die for good soon. Recovering from a sickness, minor or not, makes me appreciate how good it is to feel healthy. I was supposed to go to a darts tournament this weekend but I was sick. I was supposed to climb in a bouldering competition, but I was sick. It's nice to feel good enough to do those things without having to think about whether you feel good enough or not. Life, in general, is a good thing, but when some strange species of life gets inside of the body that houses my own life, that strange species of life really sucks and needs to die and get the fuck out.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Dry Your Clothes on the Floor
Your average domestic laundry system here in Korea is different than that of America. Generally speaking, there are no dryers, clothes are dried on lines or racks. This would be fine with me, except that it necessarily entails ironing shirts and pants since wrinkles air-dry into the fabrics, and I hate ironing. I can't do it well, and to make matters worse, my iron has a cord that's about two feet long so I have to set up my mini ironing board in a corner of my room where there is a plug low enough to the ground so that the iron can reach the board, which stands about six inches off the ground. It's annoying, but whatever, I compensate by not ironing stuff much.
Your average domestic heating system here in Korea is also different than that of America. The heat comes through the floor instead of through vents or radiators. This is pretty nice on your feet since shoes are not worn in homes ever. Sometimes I pick up clothes that have been lying on the floor all day or night and put them on, and am pleasantly surprised by how warm they are. This is especially good in the morning when putting pants on. Since there are no dryers in Korea, or ovens, leaving clothes on the floor is really the only way to get them nice and toasty before putting them on, which leads me to an interesting hypothesis:
I'm considering putting my clothes fresh out of the washer on the floor to dry - the direct heat will surely make them dry faster than cramming them all on my drying rack, and maybe even leave them less wrinkled, due not only to the heat, but also to the fact that they would be laying flat instead of folded over on a drying rung. Of course, putting clean clothes directly on the floor seems counterproductive, but maybe I can just make sure the floor is really clean. We'll see.
Your average domestic heating system here in Korea is also different than that of America. The heat comes through the floor instead of through vents or radiators. This is pretty nice on your feet since shoes are not worn in homes ever. Sometimes I pick up clothes that have been lying on the floor all day or night and put them on, and am pleasantly surprised by how warm they are. This is especially good in the morning when putting pants on. Since there are no dryers in Korea, or ovens, leaving clothes on the floor is really the only way to get them nice and toasty before putting them on, which leads me to an interesting hypothesis:
I'm considering putting my clothes fresh out of the washer on the floor to dry - the direct heat will surely make them dry faster than cramming them all on my drying rack, and maybe even leave them less wrinkled, due not only to the heat, but also to the fact that they would be laying flat instead of folded over on a drying rung. Of course, putting clean clothes directly on the floor seems counterproductive, but maybe I can just make sure the floor is really clean. We'll see.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)