Air Dry

It's not unusual to walk into a friend's studio apartment in Korea to find damp undies and bras strewn across her bedroom, dripping pants from the kitchen table or socks and sweaters hanging from a multi-tiered drying rack. She will, however, excuse her mess with two simple words and a shrug: laundry day. And because you don't have a dryer either, no further explanation is needed to account for the plethora of skivvies dangling in front if your eyes while you toast to the good life with a Soju and sprite cocktail.

It's Laundry day: you have two options: morning wash or night wash. The morning--you wash your clothes before work and hang them around the room to dry, ideally, before nightfall. Nighttime--you wash them whilst at dinner (because you and cooking devices don't mix) and hang to dry overnight. Essentially you better have your clothes picked out and lined up a few days before you intend to wear them because there's no quick wash 'n dry process possible here. Do you really want to wait for those jeans to dry or can you wear them, dirty and wrinkled, one last Friday night before they start to really reek of Soju and BBQ pork?

My challenge to you then is to do a full load--I'm talking stuffed-to-the-brim--of laundry. Set up a line outside or, to avoid judgment by your neighbors, use your counters or kitchen chairs and let evaporation do the work. It's a chore that under normal circumstances (i.e. owning a dryer) is already tedious enough but will transport you across the globe, where others live day in and day out without this luxury.

See you in 12 hours when your clothes are, hopefully, air dry.

xx
hh

Do You Have Bread?

I'll never forget my proudest moment in Korea.

I asked for bread at a grocery store.

I was vacationing on Jeju Island, Korea, over Thanksgiving Break in September '10, and, in need of bread to make a peanut butter sandwich, I scoured the store for a loaf. With no success, I opted to try out what little Korean I picked up in the past 11 months on the cashier. "Bbang iseoyo?" Do you have bread, I asked hesitantly. She answered, in Korean, that they did not have bread.

And. I. Understood!

Living in Korea is sometimes like living in your own little autistic bubble--the buzzing of a foreign language in your ear creates a certain solitude that allows you to drown out the constant commotion surrounding you and simply focus on your own thoughts. While I appreciated that peace, it isn't exactly helpful for asking about the location of bread in a grocery store or explaining to your boss that the reason for your recent doctor's visit is none of her business. But that's a story for another day.

xx
hh

We're Not in Kansas Anymore

Nor are we in Korea.

First stop: Bangkok, Thailand

Imagine arriving in the country you've dreamed about since you were young, anticipating an exotic scene to unfold before you: lush trees, crystal blue waters, drums beating as you walk through temple doors, and spicy noodle dishes that make your eyes water and nose run.

Two words: Let. Down.

Perhaps the locals of Bangkok took the name of their hometown a bit too literally. Ladyboys, ping pong shows? I have now stepped onto another planet.

Let me explain. We arrived at the Bangkok airport at about 1AM on a Monday night/Tuesday morning. Only having found where to stay that night on the flight out of Seoul (this procrastination became a pattern and, eventually, a problem), we wandered the airport until we found the taxi stand, where the attendants were all too familiar with the area we wished to sleep: Khao San Road. The ride was short and cheap, and with wide-eyes, my excitement grew as we approached our destination. I hesitated as I stepped out the backseat. A raunchy mix of exhaust, booze-laced vomit, and dead fish heads crept up my nostrils. A teenage boy--dressed in a skin-tight black miniskirt, hot pink push-up bra barely covered by a see-through white tank top, and the reddest set of lips I've ever seen--smirked as he strutted by. And then, with an overstuffed backpack securely strapped to my little back, I trudged down Khao San.

Khao San Road. It's loud. It's wild. It's legendary. You can't miss it. Flashing lights. Techno beats. Special cigarettes. Buckets of liquor. Cheap Chang beer. Bars crawling, spilling over with hipsters, hippies, and hoes. A man throws a green lit ball into the air, and it slowly flutters to the ground. And then there's me. Dressed appropriately for the 38th parallel in jeans and a sweatshirt, jaw half open, watching intently as I closely clung onto my purse, I thought, "This is Thailand?"

After consulting with some friendly foreigners, we opted to stay on a side street nearby: Soi Rambutri. The cheap places were booked, so we stayed at a $25/night joint with a rooftop pool, which we never swam in.

I'm quite proud to say that my bravery over the years has far surpassed my natural inclination to nervousness. The last time I felt this afraid to leave my room was Day 1 in Korea when I suddenly realized that I didn't speak or read Korean. Having a travel companion is highly recommended, someone to force you out the door and face the chaos outside.

Tuk-tuk drivers waved us down for a cheap ride around town. Women pushing carts of roasted bugs offered samples of grasshoppers and beetles. The streets of Khao San and surrounding are lined with vendors selling cotton dresses, bracelets, headbands, T-shirts, watches, lighters, wooden carvings, pad thai, cold beer, coconut milk, iced coffee, scarves--any and everything you could ever want. They are all there just for us--the tourists, the backpackers, the avoiders of growing up.

Bangkok is madness but not to be missed. Are you a fan of body sweat, perpetual dirt under your fingernails, haggling for daily needs, eating your meals with rats, constant harrassment about a good deal? How about riding in a rainbow-colored tuk-tuk on the freeway driven by a wrinkly old man with no shoes or teeth? Surely you enjoy the scent of vomit and the excitement of nearly having your toes taken off by a passing truck? Yes? Perfect. Bangkok is the place for you. No? Fine, stick to Florida.

xx
hh

So You're Going to Southeast Asia...

And you wanna know what to bring, right? And where to go. And where to not go. Etc. Etc. Etc. I'm here to help.

Here is my list of must-have's for backpacking Southeast Asia:

1. Backpack! - This might seem like an obvious answer, but you wouldn't believe the number of suitcases I saw dragging through the dirt-laced lanes of Khao San Road. Don't be that loser. Get a backpack that measures from just above your hips to somewhere between your neck and the top of your head. I've seen backpacks that have rollers and a handle, which is actually convenient if you find yourself on a flat road. Side pockets are helpful for everyday items, like toiletries and sunscreen. However, NEVER put money, credit cards, or your passport in your big backpack. ALWAYS keep those items on you (or in a safe if you have to).

2. Your Passport - Like I said, keep this puppy on you as much as possible. In Vietnam, many guesthouses actually have policies where they keep your passport until you check out (so that you pay for your room & don't trash it). So when they ask for it, that's totally normal. Also, make a few copies and keep them in your backpack and purse/manbag. It's a good idea to bring a second form of I.D. too.

3. Cash/Credit Card/Debit Card - You're gonna need back-up! TRUST ME! I lost my ONLY debit card in Thailand but didn't realize it until I'd crossed the border and arrived 16 hours later in Laos. This disaterous situation was only resolved because my travel companion found a random debit card (which we overdrafted 7 million times) in his wallet. Don't be that loser. Bring an ass ton of cash. I brought US$800. Should've brought more. The problem with cash is that if you lose it, it's gone. The problem with a debit card is that you get charged every time you withdraw money. The problem with a credit card is that I don't even think they are accepted. At ZERO guesthouses and restaurants was anything other than CASH accepted. Unless you're planning to stay at some 4-star hotels, bring the green!

So here's my suggestion:
-CASH: Bring somewhere between US$500-$1,000. Not only will you need US cash for visa at the Laos and Cambodian borders, it's the most accepted currency in the world. In fact, I never even saw Cambodian currency--primarily US. Also, bring 50's and 100's to exchange because you get a better exchange rate. 20's are okay but I'd use those at the border. You'll probably end up with smaller bills if you pass through the markets in Cambodia, but never fear, you can use them in LAX on your way back home (or if you're Canadian, nevermind).
-DEBIT CARD: Bring two. If you don't have one, get one. And get overdraft protection on it.
-CREDIT CARD: I guess you can use one at an ATM, but I can't completely confirm that. There's no handing your card over to the waiter or bartender--only your hard-earned cash-o-lah!
***Note: Call your bank/credit card company and tell them the countries you'll be in. Keep that number on you in case it's stolen.

4. Meds - Get your vaccinations. You'll need Hepatitis A and B, Typhoid, and Japanese Emcephalitis. Also, grab some malaria pills. I got mine in Korea, and they only cost about US$10. It's also going to be important to get antibiotics and antidiarrheal meds. Just ask while you're getting your shots for a prescription. Also extremely important is ibuprofen/tylenol for those brain-pulsing, mind-numbing hangovers that you'll have in Bangkok. Sure, there's more 7-11's and mini-marts just about every time you turn around, but you won't want to journey into the heat. Of course, if you have any medical conditions, bring enough for the whole trip and then some.

5. A smaller Backpack - I can bet you'll be dropping that back-breaking backpack off in your guesthouse and hitting the town. Bring a smaller packpack with you for day trips, shopping, sight-seeing. A small purse is good too for going out to dinner or bars. The more zippers the better! If you dont mind belly sweat, then grab a money belt for essentials and toss it on under your britches.

6. All-weather clothing - It's gonna rain, it's gonna shine. Bring the following: tank tops, short-sleeved t-shirts, shorts (short and knee length), leggings (for entering temples and other religious buildings), cotton dresses, comfortable sandals that aren't flip-flops (for long, hot walks), flip flops (for the beach), pair of tennis shoes, thin plastic poncho, pair of jeans, swimsuit, small hand towel, syrong, and a hat (if you're into hats). Don't dress like a hobo unless you are really cool because it's hard to pull off. It's okay to look cute while you're traveling--you'll thank yourself later for putting in the extra effort.

7. Toiletries - Ummmm, ladies? Bring your lady products as they are very hard to find when you're in a jam. A fat bottle of hand sanitizer will be your life saver, so don't forget it like I did. Pack a few rolls of toilet paper--you WILL need it. Plus, when you finish using it, replace the space with souveniers or a new cotton dress from Khao San Rd. And if you're smart (read: cheap), snatch the toilet paper from your room before you check out. Everyone does it.

8. Southeast Asia Guidebook - I recommend "Lonely Planet - Southeast Asia on a Shoestring." Although it's pricey (about $35-40) compared to other brands and a 3 inches thick, they are the experts in travel, in my opinion. Unfortunately, this gigantic edition is not as thorough as the individual country editions, but it hits all the hot spots and gives the cheapest hotels, restaurants, and best deals in the areas, which, to someone like me who was on a tight budget, worked perfectly. I'm not proud of this next statement, but I'm going to say it anyway: if you can't afford this book (or any of their individual country editions), you can get a bootleg copy in Cambodia and/or Vietnam. In fact, you can get just about any bootlegged book. We "accidentally forever borrowed" a Vietnam edition from a guesthouse in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). Oops. That book was much more detailed and included some cool info that the Bible (Shoestring edition) did not. SO, if you start your trip in Cambodia (Siem Reap) or Vietnam (anywhere), you can get a copy of LP travel books for about $1 or two. But you didn't hear it from me.

Questions? Email me at hollyannehutchens@gmail.com

Safe Travels~

xx
hh

The Good, The Bad, and The Adjumma

The Good: Public transportation is quick and easy.

The Bad: Maneuvering through the subway is like a pee-wee soccer game. Everyone scrambles for the same goal but in the most unorganized possible way.

The Adjumma: Adjummas have nothing to lose. The kids are out of the house, the husband is a drunk and never home, life is winding down to the end. What's the answer to this mid-life/empty-nest crisis? Push your way through others, cut in line, and swipe empty seats on the subway. Logical, right?

The Good: Food is cheap, cheap, cheap.

The Bad: Hair is a frequent ingredient.

The Adjumma: Hair nets might cramp their style of 3-inch platforms, floral-print shirts, and camel toe-tight pants as they make my food. I understand.

The Good: I'm a freakin celebrity here. I've signed autographs. I've posed for pictures. People want to know me.

The Bad: I'm a poster child for the caucasian race. I've got to be careful of what I wear, what I say (even though most people can't understand me), and how I act--who likes to do that?

The Adjumma: She stares. She glares. But she doesn't say a word. Is it admiration? Disgust? Jealousy? Only she knows.

xx
hh

Note: Adjumma is a polite term in Korean for "married woman" typical given to older women. The waeguk world has transformed it into a negative term for the pushy old ladies of Korea.

Note: Waeguk is a Korean word for "foreigner."

"I have seen the Others...

...and I have discovered that this fight is not worth fighting."

The Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) is an eerie place. Time stands still, frozen in 1953 when combat ended. But I could still sense the tension, the conflict, the animosity, the resentment, the history. It's been 60 years since North Korea attacked the South, but not much has changed in the DMZ. Land mines still litter the lush hills, a now-sanctuary for birds and other creatures. Propaganda Village rests in the North close to the border with the biggest flag in the world hanging high, a town with zero inhabitants and empty buildings beautifully decorated on the outside to lure Southerners to defect to the North. An oppessive dictatorship and communist country to the North and a fast-growing, modern democratic republic to the South. Heart-breaking.

In the Joint Security Area (JSA), I entered the U.N. room where talks of peace between the two Koreas take place. As I walked to the northern part of the room, I passed into North Korea. That alone had my heart racing. Two South Korean soldiers, trained in martial arts, guard this room--one stationed at the door leading to North Korea and one at the line of demarcation (the border). After we exited this room, we stoodnd on the stairs leading to a building on the South Korean side. As we turned around, an American soldier informed us that there was a North Korean soldier watching us from the stairs of the building on the North Korean side. They are always watching visitors in this area, but seeing his uniform, his rigid stance, I realized that I was on a battleground, that I was vulnerable and exposed. Any gesture--pointing, making strange faces, raising your arms in any way--is strictly forbidden as North Korea can use it as evidence that the South and the people inhabiting it are... crazy? Inappropriate? For this reason, we had to adhere to a strict dress code.

Next, we went to the Dora Observatory, where we were able to see far into the DMZ and into the North, a beautiful yet sad sight. Then it was on to the 3rd Tunnel. A North Korean engineer defected to the South in the early 70s and reveiled that North Korean has been building tunnels to the South in an attempt at a sneak attack. South Korea found four but are certain that there are more than 20 in total. I visited the 3rd one that was found. I walked down a steep incline 73 meters underground and followed the tunnel from the beginning (on the South Korean side of the DMZ) to the first blockade that South Korea set up in order to prevent North Korea from continuing their digging. Oddly enough, North Korea claims that these tunnels are South Korean-made. However, the dynamite blasts face the South, clearly telling us that the North was making their way south.

It's easy to forget sometimes that the Korean peninsula is still at war, but that trip reminded me why it's going on in the first place. The lineage of Kim Jung-il is power-hungry and crazed, brainwashing and abusing their people. The South is so lucky to be free.

xx
hh

Trash Wars

I alluded to this on my facebook page the other day, but I'd like to properly address it. If you missed it, my status was as follows:

"Holly Hutchens... witnessed a "Box War"... i.e. two elderly men fighting for boxes on the street. Why would two elderly men possibly do this, you ask?? Because the government pays people (usually the elderly population) to collect trash from the streets. Doesn't Korea have trash cans, you ask? No, that's what old people are for, apparently."

This is not a joke. When we first arrived in Seoul, we noticed that there was nowhere to throw our trash, yet there was not any trash on the streets. Where are people putting their trash, we asked. Eventually, we would see people set their trash on curb, on a fence post, really anywhere that wouldn't get directly stepped on. I remember the first time that David threw trash on the ground--it was a small paper cup, previously filled with either coffee or dokbokki (see my food blog). I was flabbergasted that he'd litter because even though it's the culture here, it's not ours. However, I'm fully guilty of it now. Yes, Miss Save-the-Earth litters. I'm ashamed to admit it, but what other choice do I really have? I either have to carry my trash with me in hand or in my purse everywhere I go, which is extremely inconvenient when I have to take subways and buses and walk all over the city. Normally, I'd say, yes, of course, the Earth is worth it. However, here, I am assured that my trash will be picked up within the next 12 hours by some elderly folk. Every morning and night, they comb the streets, crooked backs hunched over picking up my popsicle wrappers, soda bottles, whatever. Seriously, though, it's kind of smart. A great way to make a little extra cash? Or perhaps make a living. Don't quit your day jobs just yet, though, as it's quite a competitive business. It's on par with drug and prostitution corners--everyone has their territory, and invading on someone else's could get you killed. I'm kidding. Who would kill over trash? That's ridiculous, but you might get your ass kicked or a good talkin' to. Take today, for example: While Elderly Man A was scouting out a building for boxes, Elderly Man B grabbed Elderly Man A's pile of boxes (These boxes were stacked so high, I don't think elderly man B could see where he was running). Convenient Store Man warned Elderly Man A. Elderly Man A ran after him yelling what I can only imagine were profanities. Elderly Man B smiled, laughed, probably apologized, and handed over the stolen goods. Is it bad that I was laughing the whole time?

I say, "Way to go, Korea!" Way to create jobs for those who otherwise wouldn't be qualified for anything. Or those who were oppressed by the Japanese and had no opportunities for education.

xx
hh