Disaster and Chaos are Always Good

I had another friendly face pay me a visit recently, this time it was from American shores. Drew, a friend who I met from my days playing football in Korea. We were both drawn to the lure of DAROK with promises of free beer and nachos from our sponsored pub and that perfectly sums up our friendship. 

Our weeklong jaunt got off to valiant start. We awoke on Drew’s first full day in Beijing to blue skies and sunshine – the perfect setting for a trip to The Great Wall. We leisurely took the cable car up the mountain and spent the afternoon exploring a relatively empty wall (well, empty for China) before getting a toboggan down the mountain. Having seen the Wall before the toboggan was easily the best part of the day. We were back in the city by the early afternoon with plenty of time do a bar crawl through Beijing.

I’ve shared many tequilas with Drew in the few years I’ve known him and pretty much each time has ended in some regrettable situations. That night in Beijing was no different.

I made the mistake of telling Drew that alcohol is free to foreigners in Beijing nightclubs. Yes, free of charge with unlimited access. We worked our magic on the girl at the door of the club and we were in for free because of our charm, but mostly because of the colour of our skin. As we arrived at the foreigner table and two seats became available in the booth, it was almost as if they were reserved for us. We sat kings of the foreigners as we helped ourselves to the bottles of vodka, gin, rum, whiskey, and that devil juice, tequila. It was around this point that things got a bit hazy and I awoke the following morning with no sign of Drew and vomit on my shoes.

Where was he? Was he alive? Was that my vomit? I couldn’t contact him as he was still on his US carrier and that’s assuming he still had his phone. It was well into the afternoon and there was no word. I was feeling pretty awful at that stage as since I had met him at the airport I’d taken care of the travel arrangements and then left him in a city. As I was heading out into the heart of Beijing to look for him there he was. He’d found my apartment…somehow. He was looking worse for wear, but with litres of Gatorade under his arm he was there and alive with possessions intact. Relief.

I asked him what had happened and where he had been, but he was as useful as I was at filling in the blanks. The day of sightseeing was cancelled and the recovery began.

"One of the worst hangovers in years" was how Drew described it. I had to inform the young man that despite the alcohol being offered for free, it was, in fact, fake alcohol. Fake alcohol as in some Chinese fella has brewed it in his bathtub and packaged it to look like the real thing. It’s China, everything’s fake. It probably doesn’t bode well that my body has become immune to the stuff, although I remember how horrific those hangovers were when I first arrived here.

We still had an opportunity to make up for lost time as our train to Shanghai wasn’t until 2pm the following day, so we set an early alarm and made plans to see Tiananmen Square, The Forbidden City and The Temple of Heaven before our departure to Shanghai.

There was a slight drizzle come the morning, but we were more determined than ever. We turned to Chairman Mao Zedong for inspiration.

“Once all struggle is grasped, miracles are possible”.

- Mao Zedong

With this Marxist-Leninist-Maoist inspiration in our hearts, we were on our way to do some communist sightseeing. 

We walked around the sights getting wetter and colder. Despite the weather, we still had to fight our way through the crowds (it’s China, there are always crowds). Chinese crowds are trying at the best of times and one thing that makes them worse – umbrellas. Those pointy umbrellas scratched my eyeballs worse than eczema on an itchy arsehole. We ticked off Tiananmen and The Forbidden City, but ditched plans for the Temple of Heaven as we couldn’t take it anymore. We got a taxi to Beijing train station and people watched until our departure time. Chinese people watching is easily the best thing you can do in Beijing and is my new favourite hobby.

We made our train to Shanghai, which I was a little worried about as Drew and I have a history of missing trains having missed one to Ulsan as we went drinking the night before. That bloody tequila again.

I was happy to spend time with drew in Beijing but I can't help but feel that he didn't see the places I had wanted him to. Our time in Beijing was much like the McGregor vs. Mayweather fight. We came out swinging in the first 3 rounds, but before long Beijing fought back and put us in our place. 

We cruised through the empty Chinese countryside at 307 km/h. Living in one of the most populated cities in the world it's pleasant to see a vast countryside, occasionally passing a city I've never heard of, which probably has a larger population than London. 

Four-and-a-half hours later and 1068 km behind us we arrived in Shanghai with just enough time to get to the AirBnB, drop our bags and head to the pub for the Liverpool vs. Arsenal.

The view from the AirBnB

I was very worried as our night could take a bad turn. If Arsenal lost heavily we knew we'd hit the tequilas pretty hard. 

Arsenal lost 4-0 and we hit the tequilas hard. 

The recovery was from the night before was much more successful. We had a food tour planned for this day, but as we hadn't eaten all morning and considering how much we drank the night before I was hoping Burger King was the first stop on the tour. Instead, it was a bull frog restaurant. 

“Swollen in head, weak in legs, sharp in tongue but empty in belly.”

- Mao Zedong

I was so hungry that I filled up on bull frogs, which is something I never thought I'd say. They were pretty good, but we had 8 more stops on the food tour and I was getting bloated. I was forcing down longevity noodles and crab cakes. It was not the hangover food I needed.

Top centre clockwise: some Chinese lad frying some pork cutlets, spicy bullfrog on rice, a crab cake pie, some dumplings, some flat bread, another dumpling, longevity noodles, some aged 50% alcohol. Hardly the best descriptions, I ate this stuff a few weeks back and didn't write down what we were eating.

We finished the tour and cracked a beer on The Bund. 

Another day in Shanghai and it was time to see the Propaganda Art Museum. It exhibits posters from the Maoist era of Revolutionary China. These images inspired millions of people to rise up and make their country into a global superpower. Before the age of widespread social media, this is how people were influenced.

Many depicted images of pro-Russian communism and painted images of anti-American capitalism. I laughed and pointed at the depiction of Americans in front of Drew until I saw a few posters mocking us Brits. That's not cool. 

The posters were fascinating. Take this image of the guys riding a fire breathing dragon. It doesn't inspire me much other than to go for some spicy noodles, but it built hopes of industry, agriculture, and toppling American imperialism. 

We got turnt that night. 

After forcing ourselves up for our final day at a reasonable hour we went to the old town and did the old sightseeing nonsense. 

We coordinated our outfits for this photoshoot.

The next morning Drew was up early to make his flight, he left while I was still in bed. Now I understand how whorish it feels to have a man walk out on you. I got the train home which felt like it took an eternity. When we got the train south it was easy. I was dreaming of cocaine and hookers, but on the way back I was nursing my damaged body and had laundry to do when I got home.

"Disaster and chaos are always good".

- Mao Zedong

It was a pleasure to spend some time with a good friend and hopefully, it’s not too long before I see him again wherever in the world that may be.

Korea Burn 2014: Never Trust a Hippie

The Burning Man festival takes place every year in the Nevada desert. I had heard a few stories about this phenomenon over the years, I understood it to be a drug and alcohol fuelled hippie orgy where everyone wishes it was the 60s. Each person weirder than the next all trying to be creative displaying their art, vibrant hair colour, and face tattoos. So when I found out that there was a Korean equivalent I was hardly in a rush to attend. It was only from speaking to Josh, James, and Susie, who attended the festival in 2013, that they managed to convince me to go. Josh described the event as the best thing he did in Korea, and the best festival he had been to. Josh and I have been to many Reading Festivals down the years and so his claims were the tipping point. I was in.

Preparation for the event brought my commitment into doubt. You cannot buy anything at the event; no food, no alcohol, you can’t even buy water. You must bring your own supplies into the camp beforehand. Even so, I reluctantly agreed. Through further research I was told that there would be a gift exchange throughout the event with the other Burners. If you met someone and you felt generous enough to give them a gift you can. It’s all about love. Christ, these hippies are testing my patience! I can’t buy beer all weekend and then I’ve got to give shit away to these free-loading tree huggers!

This year’s gang included Susie, Somi, Karl, and I from Seoul and Michael from Masan, but due to all of our different schedules we arrived at the festival at different times. Susie went alone on Thursday and I joined her on Friday afternoon. Upon arrival at the camp I was greeted with a “welcome home!” by one of the free spirited organisers. Welcome home? I’d just turned up to campsite with no beer, if that’s home then I don’t want to be there. Before letting you in they make you recite their 10 rules and bang a gong to announce your arrival, and everyone cheers like a cultural ritual. “Radical Inclusion! Gifting! Communal Effort!...” Doing so made me look and feel like a twat. Too much noise, let me walk in quietly unnoticed. I haven’t mentioned it yet but the event was organised by Americans, but you could tell that already, right? If the event was run by Brits there’d be a guy half-drunk sitting in one of those camping chairs and he’d say “Alright mate? Bogs are over there, kettle’s over there, and don’t act like too much of a knob. Have fun.” And that is what I want.

Anyhow, the tent was pitched and I was in need of a drink. Susie and I opened the supplies to find that between us we only had wine and rum with no mixer. It was decided that we’d mix the two together using the wine as the mixer. Smashing idea. Don’t judge me. Later Karl, Somi, and Michael arrived and we enjoyed the first evening.

The next morning came around and I felt terrible, not because of the alcohol (I felt surprisingly good after an odd cocktail of rum and wine that tasted like Vimto) but because of the mosquitoes. Jesus, I’m not Rainman but I must have been bitten 200 hundred times, that’s not even an exaggeration. Stinging and itching I made do with a wet wipe shower. With all the red dots on my body I must’ve looked like I had been shooting up with Kate Moss the night before.

At a hippie fest such as this one there is no rest for the attention seeking earth lovers. To my astonishment, blurry eyed from the night before, a woman completely naked walks through the campsite. Bollock naked… well, muff naked I suppose. I had to double take. Not so long later another nudist, this time less exciting, a man. Even so, for some unknown reason I couldn’t stop looking. I don’t understand naturism, you’ve got to be drugged up, or a nutter, or a drugged up nutter to be into that and I couldn’t work out which category these hippies fell into.

Saturday was another day to enjoy the festivities, music, dancing, football on the beach, and of course drinking. I got to say it was a good day, I didn’t even have to use my A.K.

The night fell and it was time for the main event, burning of the man. It was a big, rather impressive spectacle. I have no idea if the burning was meant to symbolise something, more than likely considering the number of “artists” there but it was still entertaining. The build up included drumming shows, fire displays, and unintended fireworks. No matter how good or bad the final act was it couldn’t have been worse than the opening ceremony of the World Cup.

Despite my original qualms about the event and even through some/a lot of negativity I still had a really good time. Was it the best festival I’ve been to? No, far from it. Being eaten alive by the hundreds of mosquitoes, not touching a drop of beer all weekend, missing the World Cup quarter finals, being surrounded by hundreds of weird hippies, and having to give stuff away for free. I’m pretty sure the festival’s not suited to me and I’m not suited to the festival. But never say never.

Homosexuality Isn’t a Choice. Discrimination Is.

We just had a bank holiday weekend and it was action packed. Coming to Asia on of the things I  wanted to see was some form of martial art display so on Friday Karl and I went to Namsangol Hanok Village to watch a taekwondo performance. The show merges dance and martial arts to create great entertainment. I’m not really into dance performances, neither am I overwhelmed by martial arts as I always considered the people that did them after school geeks (geeks that could kick my arse) but put them together and I thoroughly enjoyed the performance.

Martial arts are a bit weird really. If Karl had called me that morning and said 'Do you want to come round mine and watch me break some wooden planks?' I'd have said no thank you. But because these people are professional Asian wood-kickers I was well up for it.

Saturday came around and there was the much anticipated Korea Queer Festival to be enjoyed. I have never been to a gay pride festival before so I wasn’t too sure of what to expect. I asked a gay friend of mine and he told me to expect the unexpected.

"They have parades. There're no parades for how I get laid. They have parades... marching down the street to celebrate that they blow each other, fuck each other in the ass, and smush their vaginas together or whatever that one is. Whatever wonderful thing those folks are doing, it's none of my business." (Louis C.K.)

Karl and I arrived in Sinchon, the first person who welcomed me outside the station was someone who was working for the local clinic. “Free STI checks for everyone!” They really know their target market.

We had only been there a matter of minutes before we saw our first confrontation. Homosexuality is still taboo here in Korea, gay movements only started fighting discrimination laws in the 1990s (according to Wikipedia). The confrontation was between the thousands of representatives from the gay community and about 4 Christian nut-jobs. It started getting heated and had the police not intervened it probably would have resulted in violence.

In that situation who are the crazy people? The people who are attracted to the same gender or the guy dressed in his pyjamas telling everyone that they’re committing an “abomination” (Leviticus 18:22) and that they all “deserve to die” (Romans 1:32) because it was written in a book over 1,800 years ago. People used to believe that well preserved Beanie Babies would be worth a fortune one day, and that only happened in the 90s. Sometimes people are wrong. (Although, give it 1,800 years and my Beanie Baby collection could be worth £40).

We met up with a gay friend who came to shed light on the whole festival. Apparently, protesters are very common and they should be ignored (something I couldn't bring myself to do in this blog). Anyway, we continued through the crowds, we saw a lot of stands, a lot of love, and a lot of skin (from both genders, don’t worry). We enjoyed the stage performances too, many gay people, drag queens, and the like who were on stage showcasing their dancing and singing abilities. The highlight of the show was when a transgender (I think he/she was anyway) tried to sing Beyonce’s Crazy In Love but unfortunately he/she didn’t know the words… and was out of time… and was out of tune. To the crowds delight he/she still gave it a go and filled in the unknown words with “blah, blah, blah”. Very funny.

At the end of the show the parade started. This was certainly a first for me, not only was this my first time in attendance at a gay pride parade, it was also my first time partaking in the march. With a cocktail in hand, and wearing the gay pride flag as a cape I was fully immersed in the day, I was ready to throw on a pair of leather hot pants with the arsecheeks cut out.

The parade came to a halt only half-a-mile in. The Christian nuts had taken it upon themselves to stop everyone’s fun. They were sat in the middle of the road bringing an end to the festivities. The police were drafted in again, this time to protect the selfish, insane, prejudice, close-minded, homophobes. The thousands of parade marchers were growing restless, they were ready to throw buckets of cum and glitter on the Christians for ruining their fun. It’s a shame that a mere 20 or so Christians can ruin the fun of thousands on a day which is to be celebrated not targeted.

This is the kind of Christian I can get on board with.

The interruption was a perfect opportunity for a toilet break. I nipped into the nearest Tom N Toms only to find that there was only a single cubicle. I waited patiently, and as the guy in the cubicle left he was followed by another gentleman. I guess it was the day to be proud.

During the wait a friend of mine checked his Grinder app on his phone and it was crazy! An app which is designed to find the nearest gay person to you so you can meet and ‘hook up’. It’s slightly different than straight apps such as Tinder, which measure available singles in miles, Grinder measures available singles in feet. Lo and behold there was a gay man only 6 feet away, I could see him! He was ready to fuck!

Those kinds of Christians really bother me. What do they really expect when protesting at those events? All the gay people to say “I’ve seen the light, I’m now straight and a devout Christian!” No, of course that’s an unrealistic thing to expect. They’re gay, they cannot change who they are. All the Christians are doing is making gay people, and others hate their religion. People were at the festival to celebrate being gay, drink, party, and have a good time not to convert. We stayed a little longer before we got bored and found a nearby pub.

Sunday was soon upon us and we decided to do some sightseeing, we went to Changdeokgung Palace and the palace's Secret Gardens, as I write it on here it becomes far less secret. A less dramatic day than before but beautiful all the same.

A great weekend from start to finish. 

See You on the Other Side!

On the 25^th May, 2014 it had been 6 months since I left the UK. Nearly half way through and the time has gone so quickly. I’ve been quite lucky that I haven’t felt any homesickness, obviously it would have been nice to see friends and family during that period but it won’t be long until I’m back, and sparing any UKIP deportations everyone will be there waiting for me when I get home.

A reason why I possibly haven’t really felt any homesickness so far has been that I’ve been surrounded with familiar faces since leaving the UK. When I was in Thailand I met up with Amy and Kelsey, two girls from uni. In Australia, I met up with Ed and Amy, a couple of Bedford companions. I got to Korea and met up with Toner, a great friend from home. Soon after, Ben came out to visit for a week. In February, Karl, one of my best mates from uni, came to Korea to teach for the year. And most recently Kate, another mate from uni popped over to Korea to visit Karl and I as she was passing through Asia on her travels. In only a short period of time, I have gone from a tourist to a tour guide, as I showed Kate and her bum-chum Rose around the sights of Seoul. Although when most people think of Brendan the tour guide they immediately think of a flamboyant, overweight twat… Maybe it’s more accurate than I thought.

Kate and Rose arrived in Seoul to torrential rain. The heavens had opened despite my promises to Kate that it would be hot and sunny when they arrived. She was not impressed. We started the catch up with a few pints in the local, as we shared stories and got to know Rose a bit better. A quirky, fun individual to say the least!

Unfortunately, due to our teaching hours Karl and I couldn’t spend as much time as we had hoped with the girls during their stay, but this gave them some exploring of their own to do without us. There’s a lot to see and do in Soeul but when you’ve only got a week you have to start cramming. We suggested the truly touristy attractions; cat café, dog café, palaces, temples, museums, and of course soju and kimchee. Korea in a nut shell.

On Saturday we took a trip to the baseball. We found a good spot in the stand to watch the game and cracked the first beer open in the afternoon sunlight. It was nice for about 10 minutes but standing in the unbearable heat stops becoming fun very quickly. I soon became a hairy, sweaty mess. My chest was like a rain forest, my arse was like a swamp, and my bollocks had mushrooms growing on them. I spent most of the afternoon with my legs apart trying to give the twins some breathing space. And apparently the summer gets hotter here in Seoul, my heritage derives from Ireland and England, I wasn’t designed for the hot climates. I’m happy in the cold and rain, I’m a human slug.

I look so camp in this picture.

The baseball game was enjoyable despite “supporting” the team that got dicked 23-1. In attendance were Kate, Rose, Somi, Karl, Bernd, Angie, and I, we’re hardly what you’d call die hard baseball fans. Our excuse was to show Kate and Rose something different that they hadn’t experienced on their travels so far. In the crowd I happened to see this guy watching TV on his phone, upon further inspection he was watching the baseball game that was happening live in front of him.

If he had lifted his head up 20cm then he would have seen the game live. Baseball is hardly that interesting at the best of times, if you watch the game live and then watch the replay on your phone you’re only going to be bored twice.

As we were leaving the game we also saw this pair of sad acts.

“Together Since 2010.” So what? Rihanna and Chris Brown were together since 2008, and look how that turned out. (Although, based on the pictures Angie has been drawing of us maybe I shouldn’t comment on other cringey couples).

We showed the girls the highlights of the Hongdae night life. We went to the park and they got to meet the notorious Makgeolli Man.

Both Friday and Saturday night were filled with drunken adventures which ceased around 5am.

They said they had a great time in Korea, and would like to come back again. It was great having them here it’s just a shame it was only for a week. Korea is an awesome place, and you know the old saying ‘Once you go to Korea… you get gonorrhoea?’ I was trying to think of something more accurate, but that’ll do.