buddha's birthday

Despite the fact that Korea is hardly noticeably Buddhist in any respect, May 24th is a national holiday on account of the fact that it is Buddha's birthday. Prior to Wednesday (the day before the birthday), this fact was only known to me because Taylor and I had failed to attend the lantern festival for the holiday the previous weekend. Then, on Wednesday, my elementary class informed me that we would not be having class the next day. Never one to trust ten-year-olds who address me as "TEACHA!", I proceeded to ask our resident badass, Dr. Jo (the receptionist), if this was true. Turns out, it was in fact true that we had Thursday off. It also turns out that we had a mandatory picnic and work excursion planned for the day. At the time, I felt the excitement of the day off quickly negated by the existence of the work outing.

Work outings at Veritas usually consist of taking private cars to another city, and quickly boozing, no-rae-banging, eating tremendous amounts of food, and retiring to a love hotel. This outing proved to be about the same, except we were going to the mountains, where there aren't any no-rae-bangs or love hotels. But the booze and food promised to be the same. This was made clear during our stop at the grocery store on the way out of town, where we picked up, among other items, five chickens, twenty bottles of soju, one kilo of garlic and a tube of toothpaste. We were on the road.

After a two hour car ride, including the obligatory stop at a rest area for noodles*, we pulled into a seriously scenic mountain area, shrouded in misty fog. We checked in to basically a rustic hotel room, and immediately cracked into the Budweisers. After one can of beer, various grills and portable burners were placed on the floor in the middle of our seating circle, and piles of meat, mushrooms, onions, kimchi and garlic appeared instantly. It was on. Our boss's friend and family from a nearby town showed up, and his kids were the most shy of foreigners out of anyone I've met in Korea yet. We feasted on thick pieces of rarely cooked beef and beer for about forty minutes before everyone was stuffed. We had consumed about half of the meat. It was brought up that it was time for some exercise.

We romped down the hill to a scenic flat plot of land where we could play choku, which is basically volleyball played with your feet. This holiday really reminded me of either 4th of July or Labor Day, with the focus being on the combination of drinking and outdoor activities. Our Korean coworkers all proved to be surprisingly adept at the game, while I showed my utter hopelessness at kicking a soccer ball over a one meter high net. After one game, I relegated myself to drinking beer and exploring the river. Luckily, by the time I had soaked the better part of my pants by sliding into the river, it was raining pretty steadily. I opted out of the dunk into the river that most of the other men took. Everyone headed back to the room, but I had the brilliant idea that it was time to go for a hike. Of course, we needed not one, but two bottles of soju for the trail. We made it less than a kilometer up the steep, muddy ascent before sense got the better of us, and we each had two shots of soju before sliding down the mountain. I literally slid, and came home with fully saturated and muddy pants. As I had neglected to bring extra pants, my only option was to wear Taylor's pajama pants. (Despite the fact that she has had them since the fifth grade, they fit surprisingly well, aside from being about three inches short in the leg and a BIT tight in the crotch.)

The meat went back on the grill, and the beer was gone, so it was time to hit the soju hard. I don't know whose idea it was to go to the no-rae-bang, but suddenly it was a reality. I told you that there wasn't a no-rae-bang in this mountain park we were at. Three cabs showed up, and we took a twenty minute ride into the nearest large town. The table in the no-rae-bang was covered with ten cans of "Hunter" beverage, which our boss was very distressed to see us dip into. Turns out, "Hunter" is a 0.9% beverage due to local liquor laws. Luckily, Dr. Jo and Brian slipped out to a nearby convenience store to pick up three bottles of whiskey. The taxi ride home is a bit of a blur.

We got home, and the big news was that we were locked out of the room. Nobody could seem to figure out how to get in until TayTay scrambled up the balcony and saved the day. For some reason, it wasn't until we made it inside to the light that anyone, including Brian, realized that Brian was bleeding profusely from a wound above his eyebrow. There was blood, but once we got it cleaned up, Taylor, Brian and I all insisted that the lack pouring, seeping, non-stop blood, despite the fact that it was a drunken head wound, indicated that there was no need for stitches. Our boss (but not Dr. Jo) was sure that a trip to the emergency room was needed. Another taxi arrived and they went back to the town. Brian returned unsure of whether or not he had gotten stitches. I took this to mean that he hadn't.

The ride home was long and hungover. I was one of the lucky ones, considering I was able to go home, shower, and change out of Taylor's pajama pants before I had to teach on Friday night.

*Though you could drive the entire length of the country of South Korea in roughly 7 hours, every road trip, no matter how short, involves a stop at the Korean equivalent of a truck stop.