11/5 The End...

As my trip neared the end, I had contrasting notions of time. Mongolia seemed so long ago but it also felt like I had just left San Francisco for this adventure.

Before leaving Seoul on Monday, I said good-bye to some friends and my Korean mom. Nancy drove me to the airport and we said our farewell too. I'm always so sad to leave. Every time I come back, there's always something that's changed and no longer the way I remembered. But change is good. After all, that's the reason why I embarked on this trip. Who know--if my Korean mom's prayers are answered, maybe I'll bring back a husband and a child on my next visit. One thing I know won't change is my friendships, especially ones like the one I have with Nancy. And that's very comforting.

Thanks to all of you who took the time to read my entries and view my photos. It was nice to hear from you and receive your feedback!

10/19 - 11/5 Old Friends, Aye?

I met Nancy in 1998 when we were placed in the same second level class at the Korean Language Institute. After graduating from the University of Toronto, she moved to Seoul and has made a nice life for herself as a successful voice actress. Over the years, she's become a very close friend and "home base" for all of my visits to Korea. In addition to opening her home, she's my partner in crime in Seoul. She suffers through noraebang (karaoke in a private room) as I sing my catalogue of Korean pop songs from the 1990's; we laugh at each other as we bowl yet another terrible game; we eat at Pusan Shikdang, the best dive restaurant in Shinchon, our old hang out; she expertly weaves us through the stalls of Namdaemun and Dongdaemun markets, some of the most complicated mazes in Seoul; we visit the World Cup Museum where we take silly photos and make asses of ourselves "playing soccer"; and she expands my knowledge of the city by sharing her latest finds. Plus, since many of her friends are ex-pats, I catch up on my Canadian, aye?

On one of our trips to Dongdaemun, we were walking towards a large shopping mall when I heard my name. As soon as I heard the voice, I knew it was Abel, one of our friends from KLI. Neither Nancy nor I had been in touch with him much but we always wondered how he was doing and what he was up to. Abel was the first Korean-Brazilian I met and his perspective had always interested me and Nancy. And before running into him on the street, we had literally spoken about wishing to meet him again. It was a huge coincidence that we were on the same street at the same time. We caught up at a cafe, after which Nancy and I went over all the things that had to have taken place for our serendipitous meeting with Abel to happen.

Will, another KLI friend, was also in town so we had a mini reunion. I can't believe we've all known each other for nine years already. A lot has changed. Will and Abel are now married and Abel also has a daughter. I'm sure we all look older but I pretty much see the same faces I remember from our carefree days as students. I also met with Korean friends who've also gotten married, have children and are well into their official adult lives. Almost always, we'd end up reminiscing about the good old days. Aren't we too young for that? I suppose it's trying to recapture that freedom with old friends that makes coming back to Korea so much fun.

Photos can be found here.

11/1 "Twelfth Night"...in Russian!

On Thursday night, Nancy, Chris and I went to see a performance of Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night" by the Chekhov International Theatre Festival. The production was directed by Declan Donnellan, a world renown actor and director of Shakespearean plays. If I read "Twelfth Night" in high school, it wasn't thoroughly since I didn't remember anything so Nancy gave us a quick synopsis. This became essential since the play was in Russian with a translation into Korean on projection screens placed on both sides of the stage. Since I don't speak Russian and am not fluent in Korean, it was pretty tricky to watch a comedy of errors involving twins, gender-bending and mistaken identities in this format. To make it extra challenging, it was performed by an all-male cast!

The play was excellent and though the only words I understood were "spaseeba" and "dasvidanya", the Chekhov players were so expressive it didn't matter. And I was pleased that I could keep up somewhat with the translated dialogue.

10/31 Seoul at Night

For a nice evening out, Nancy and I went to n Grill, a revolving restaurant at the top of N Seoul Tower which provides the city's highest viewpoint. The tower serves as the antenna for various local and nationwide FM and TV broadcasting stations and opened in 1980 as a hybrid recreational/cultural complex.

Nancy and I enjoyed our dinner at n Grill but the movement made us both a little queezy. The view was spectacular and until then I didn't know how beautiful Seoul is at night.

We also got a nice view of the city's evening skyline from the ferry. Nancy insisted we take a ride along the Han River which runs through the center of Seoul. In some respects it is like the Seine but much wider. Within city limits, its width measures 1 km.

Photos of Seoul at night can be found here.

10/29 Gyeongbok Palace

Though I had toured the palaces on my first trip to Seoul in 1995, I visited Gyeongbokgoong since Monday was a nice day. I arrived just in time for the changing of the guards ceremony which was a great photo opportunity.

A brief history: Gyeongbok Palace was completed in 1395 and was the main and largest palace of the Joseon Dynasty. After being destroyed during the Japanese invasion of 1592-1598, it was reconstructed as a massive 330-building complex in the 1860s and became home to the Korean royal family. All but 10 buildings were destroyed in 1911 during the Japanese occupation.

The main buildings on the palace grounds are Geunjeongjeon (the imperial throne room) and Gyeonghoeru Pavilion, which stands on 48 granite pillars on an artificial lotus lake. With two mountains near the original palace grounds, Gyeongbokgoong is surrounded by great natural beauty.

Seoul has over 10 million people living in an area of 605 sq km (smaller than New York or Tokyo), making it one of the most densely populated cities in the world. When stuck in a crowd, it can feel like you're being carried by a wave of people. While Gyeongbok Palace is a national treasure and symbol of Korea's royal history, it also serves as a quiet place for contemplation in a city moving at hyper speed.

Photos can be found here.

10/25 - 10/29 Metro Hotel - Myungdong

There are some of the kindest, most open people in Korea and an example is the president of Metro Hotel in Myungdong district. Before I arrived, my friends at Eastern Social Welfare Society (the agency through which I was adopted) told me about an offer by Metro Hotel for a free week's stay for adoptees visiting Korea. Myungdong is a popular shopping district in central Seoul and close to most sights and attractions. Staying at a hotel there is normally very expensive. Opened in 1954 (and the first to be registered as a tourist hotel in Korean history!) Metro Hotel was renovated three years ago and the lobby and rooms reminded me of the W Hotel. If you're in Seoul, it's a great alternative to the chain establishments since their rates are quite reasonable.

Though I didn't get a chance to meet the president, I met with the sales representative in charge of this special program. When I asked how the president became interested in adoptees returning to Korea, she said he had seen a program on television and contacted Eastern to see how he could help. Change happens quickly in Korea and new buildings sprout up all the time. Advances in consumer technology happen at lightening speed compared to the U.S. and Koreans adapt very quickly. But like most societies, social change is much slower. When the first wave of Korean adoptees returned, many came back with stories of hardship about racism and loneliness. In addition, due to negative attention about international adoption of children during the 1988 Summer Olympics, there was collective shame in Korea. As adoptees returned, many hoping to find the acceptance they felt was missing in their adoptive countries, most realized that things were not so easy in Korea either. Due to the work of many adoptees and Koreans, changes have been made. Though more still needs to be done, the generosity of individuals like the president of Metro Hotel is a great representation of this change.

I would like to thank Metro Hotel and its president for their generosity and, more importantly, their interest in adoptees and adoptive families visiting Korea.

10/19 - 11/5 Korean Cuisine

Korean cuisine in the U.S. is fairly similar to what's available in Korea but the major difference is price. In the States, what can best be described as appetizers are often more expensive than main dishes. For instance, dukboki at a pojangmacha is $2 in Seoul but around $10-$16 in the U.S. Arguably, you're standing on the street when eating at a pojangmacha but still! Korean-American takes on traditional dishes, like kalbi (marinated short ribs) and soondubu (spicy tofu stew), make it to Korea as well. L.A. kalbi is still popular and L.A. soondubu made a big splash a few years ago. But there are still some regional dishes that don't make it out of Korea and restaurants I return to every visit.

Samgaetang is perhaps the most traditional stew in Korean cuisine. The most basic description is chicken soup with ginseng though preparing it is much more complicated than it sounds. A whole chicken or hen is stuffed with rice that is prepared with ginseng, chestnuts, pine nuts, garlic, ginkgo and dates. Ginger and green onions are added to the broth. Though it's a stew, samgaetang is often eaten in the early summer for stamina and energy to help deal with the hot weather. Nancy took me to To Sok Chon, one of the most famous samgaetang restaurants in Seoul. Lines can go around and around the block in the summer. They have a secret recipe for the broth which is thicker and milkier than other broths. The meat was so tender and just dropped off the bones. The soup leaves you feeling like you've just been swaddled in a warm blanket.

On every visit, I go to a famous vegetarian restaurant called San Chon in the art district Insadong. San Chon, which means mountain village, serves fresh vegetables found in Korea's woods and mountains. The dishes are derived from temple cooking which the proprietor, Mr. Kim Yon Shik, came to know during his years as a Buddhist monk. Nancy and I thought they added salt as a seasoning which they hadn't done before. Everything tastes pure and though there's no meat, you get quite full. As always, it was delicious.

Korean evening dramas are popular all over Asia and one of the most popular is "Dae Jang Geum" or "Jewel in the Palace" from 2003. The story's main character is Jang Geum, who is loosely based on a historical figure from the Joseon Dynasty and the first female royal physician. One of the features of the drama was royal cuisine and the actress who played Jang Geum trained at Korea House, a well known restaurant and performance hall in Seoul. Korea House was a private residence during the actual Joseon Dynasty period. Its modern reincarnation is inspired by Geunjeongjeon which is located in Gyeongbok Palace (write up to follow). The menu is based on descriptions in works of literature and royal court records. Table manners, kitchen utensils, ancestral rites table setting method and the names and ingredients of foods were all recorded during Korea's dynastic periods and Korea House serves according to those records. They also have folk arts performances. Compared to "peasant" food, royal cuisine seemed kind of bland. Korean food is pungent and spicy and royal food is basically the opposite. The decor and presentation were beautiful. We all felt satisfied and not stuffed like we normally feel after a meal which was a nice change.

Photos of Korean cuisine can be found here.

10/10 - 10/19 The Pusan International Film Festival and "You HAVE to get married!"

On Wednesday morning, Nancy, her friends Lisette and Chris, and I rode the KTX bullet train to Pusan for the 12th annual Pusan International Film Festival. We were going to catch the festival's last few days, including the closing film. PIFF had kind of lost its steam and I was only impressed by one of the films I saw, a Chinese production of a Mongolian story called Tuya's Wedding. It is an interesting film about a shepherd and her difficult family circumstances. I believe its U.S. premier is soon and I highly recommend it. The closing film was Evangelion 1.0 You Are (Not) Alone, an animated feature from Japan. I was hoping for something along the lines of Spirited Away or Akira but it was boring and the graphics plain so we left the screening in search of dinner.

I have had some of my most useful language practices with Korean taxi drivers. They're usually bored and nosy so they ask all sorts of questions. The only down side is that they're quite complimentary so you can leave a cab ride with a rather inflated sense of your abilities. But sometimes you end up with a driver that is a great entertainer. That night we got one very funny driver who also took us to a fantastic seafood restaurant by the water. "Soon Min's House" serves up Pusan style grilling which means lots of shellfish. Pusan, Korea's second largest city, is the country's largest port city and seafood is a staple.

Nancy, Chris and Lisette left for Seoul on Saturday and I stayed on to visit with my Korean mom. She has lived in Pusan since we moved there from Seoul after my birth father died when I was six months old. She's originally from Pusan and while I was born in Seoul, since almost all of my childhood memories of Korea are from Pusan, I consider it my go-hyang, or hometown.

My visit with my Korean mom had actually started on Wednesday when she had all of us over for lunch after our arrival from Seoul. She met us at the train station and the two of us took one cab while Nancy, Lisette and Chris took another. On the way to her house, she asked how I was and if I had been eating well. I try to visit Korea every few years and on my last trip in 2005, we had only one day together due to her work schedule so it really felt like I hadn't seen her since 2002. We were both quiet and I thought she was also reflecting on the importance of these visits. She placed a hand on my knee and had a serious look on her face. I prepared to hear words of wisdom. She looked into my eyes and said..."You HAVE to get married!"

In Korea, if you're a woman and haven't married by your mid twenties, you are considered a spinster. While that antiquated notion is dying out somewhat, it still lives in the older generation. Getting their children married is a major cause of stress for parents and they let you know it. The fact that I am not married is the greatest anxiety in my Korean mom's life and to top it off, I had returned with no job and no place to live. To her, I was a nightmare and all week long, I heard how I was running out of time since I wasn't getting any younger. Usually when we talk on the phone, she tells me how she prays every day that I'll meet a nice man and marry, to which I always answer she needs to pray harder. More often than not, we laugh it off and I find it comforting that we share the same sense of humor. But this trip, she was dead serious and gave me the following five year plan:

2008 through 2009: Meet a nice man and get married
2010: Buy a house
2011 through 2012: Give birth to the first of my two children

In fact, she said that if I haven't at least gotten married and bought a house in five years, I shouldn't bother coming back to visit. Obviously, she's kidding. Right?

It's hard to imagine that it's been a little over 12 years since my Korean mom and I reunited. Before our reunion, it had been 12 years since I left for America. In these last 12 years, we have both worked hard on this relationship. But during visits, I sometimes felt like we were still back to when I was eight years old. (This was not helped by my elementary Korean language skills.) Our communication had a distant quality. And as annoyed as I was at being constantly berated with marriage talk, this visit was a turning point. A part of me was happy since it felt like we had bridged the gap that's kept our relationship so formal. We were no longer holding back for fear of hurting each other. We were no longer holding back thinking we had no right to meddle. Now we are comfortable with our role in the other's life.


When I wasn't listening to instructions on how to execute my new five year plan, I was very busy being fed. My daily activities consisted of waking up and eating; going to the bath house and eating upon my return; resting; taking a cab ride to the beach and eating; resting; going shopping and eating; coming home and eating and resting; eating before going to bed. Literally, the only exercise I got was walking to the bath house that was 10 yards away.

After feeling like there was no possible way I could eat more (or rest more), my Korean mom and I went to the train station and said good-bye. I left with two bags of food.

Photos can be found here.

10/8 - 10/9 Getting to Seoul

I'm always excited to visit Korea but I was particularly looking forward to getting to Seoul after my less than successful trip to Moscow. I longed for the relief of being able to communicate and being in a familiar place.

I flew on Emirates Airlines and had a stopover in Dubai. I wish I had known to take advantage of the "Dubai Stopover" program that Emirates offers. For a very low price, they take care of everything from your accommodations to car service. It would have been a great opportunity to see a city with one of the fastest growing reputations as a major international destination. The Dubai international airport was abuzz with travelers from all over the world. It's a shopper's heaven as their duty free is open 24 hours a day and products offered range from liquor and cosmetics to dvds, books and electronics. Even at 2 a.m. the shops were packed with people making last minute purchases.

With the time change, traveling to Seoul took a whole day. I left Moscow on Monday afternoon and arrived in Seoul Tuesday afternoon. Nancy met me at the airport, after reassuring me several times that she'd be there. We met two friends for dinner in Hong Dae, one of our old haunts and a neighborhood surrounding Hong Ik University which is Korea's premier fine arts college. This started my nearly non-stop consumption of Korean food. It's not as if I don't eat Korean food in the U.S. But for me, nothing beats the pojangmachas (street carts) and they're out at all hours of the night, a dangerous convenience since it allows me to get my fix of late night eating. Nancy looked on with horror as I stuffed myself with dukboki and odeng all month long. It's disgraceful the way I treat Korea as my personal all-you-can-eat buffet. I ought to be ashamed but I'm usually too busy eating!

10/4 - 10/8 A Series of Unfortunate Events

After sleeping in and enjoying my stay at the Sheraton, I embarked on a walk to Red Square. All the sights in Moscow are pretty much within walking distance of each other and now that I could place myself on a map, it was fairly easy to get to monuments. On the way I saw the Foreign Ministry building which is in a hybrid style that is referred to as Stalinist Gothic. It was very imposing and in the middle of a bustling boulevard. I also saw the Cathedral of Christ the Redeemer which was beautiful.

I took a more roundabout way and by the time I got to Red Square it started to rain. I was hoping to see signs for tours or the big red bus but Moscow is not yet prepared for international tourism. I saw very few non-Russians and signs were not in anything but Russian. I got into St. Basil's Cathedral, pictures of which are in the post below. It's so interesting since its design and rich colors are unusual for a cathedral, at least to western eyes. According to the guide book, St. Basil's was commissioned by Ivan the Terrible to celebrate the capture of the Mongol stronghold of Kazan in 1552. It is reputed to have been designed by the architect Postnik Yakovlev (yeah, I don't know who that is either). According to legend, Ivan the Terrible was so amazed at the beauty of St. Basil's that he had Yakovlev blinded lest he design an equal. I also walked past the Lenin Mausoleum and saw parts of the Kremlin that could be viewed from outside the walls.

I got to Marika's apartment that evening after her friend met me back at the Sheraton. Turns out I had been waiting outside the right apartment building but we must have just missed each other. For those of you who know Marika, I'll share that her apartment is quite charming. But she leads the stereotypical life of a banker. What more proof do you need than bottles of Evian, a bottle of bubbly and caviar in the fridge? Girlfriend doesn't even have salt in the house. I spent Friday trying to get on the internet but something was amiss and I had no access. Being in Marika's apartment was like being in Bizarro World. For instance, there's a dvd player but none of her dvds can be played on it because they're from the wrong region. Wireless networks appear available but none of them has a signal. There's a phone but I couldn't make an international call (turns out I just wasn't waiting for the rotary system to clear the code). Since it was pouring, I decided not to go out and figured things would be a lot easier once Marika got back to Moscow. Watching an American television show in Russia is really funny. Like the French, they dub over. But unlike the French, there's a two-second delay so you can still faintly hear the English. So "CSI Miami" sounded like this: "Horatio, I fou..blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."

Since she didn't get in Saturday morning, I guessed Marika's flight was delayed. I mapped out an itinerary of seeing the Chekhov House Museum, Gorky House Museum and the Arbat area. It was still raining so I didn't take any pictures. Unfortunately, there was nothing for me to take pictures of since I couldn't gain entrance into either of the museums. It looked like the Chekhov House Museum was under renovation. I tried to figure out the information provided at the Gorky House Museum but there was no official entrance. I walked around the house and several security people stepped out but none could understand my questions or hand gestures. "In...I want to get inside. Where you just came from. Inside. Not outside. Inside. Nevermind." The stain glass did look beautiful and had it been a nicer day, I'm sure they would have made nice photographs. Defeated, I went to Old Arbat which used to be the artsy area. Now it's just filled with souvenir shops. It was a tiny but much needed victory to find chotchkis for people back home.

Marika finally arrived around 8pm on Sunday. The poor girl had been stuck in transit since her flight got re-routed. In our short time together, we had dinner at a nice restaurant near her neighborhood and drinks at a posh bar frequented by overworked Morgan Stanley analysts.

I left the next afternoon and my extraordinary experience in Moscow extended to the ride to the airport. Traffic in Moscow is insane. Part of the problem is that it's like the wild, wild west. There may be laws but they serve no purpose. It's everyone for himself. While trying to weave through traffic, my driver got us ring side seats to a violent road rage confrontation. When we drove up, we saw the driver of a sedan ("sedan driver") reaching in and hitting the driver of a delivery truck ("truck driver"). There was a lot of yelling but the sedan driver got back into his car. Unfortunately, the truck driver wasn't done and he kept slamming his door into the car. Of course this pissed off the sedan driver and his friend who was on the receiving end of all that slamming. Both of them dragged the truck driver out and the beating started. At one point, the truck driver was on the ground with the sedan driver kicking him. After they were satisfied, the sedan driver and his friend returned to his car. I thought it would end there but somehow the truck driver got back into his truck and began shooting what looked like a gun at the car. It couldn't have been a real gun since again the sedan driver and his friend got out. This time though, the sedan driver popped his trunk and took out a baton. Not the kind you twirl but the kind that cops use. Thinking I was really going to see someone get beaten to death, all I could do was say, "No, no, no" over and over again. It was pretty much to myself since I wasn't going to roll down my window and try to negotiate a truce. I was just hoping someone would intervene before it got ugly. Luckily, the man to the left of us got out and after a few minutes, he managed to get all parties to disperse. I don't know what was more persuasive, his words or the pistol he wore on his hip for all to see. For good measure, the sedan driver smashed the truck driver's window with the baton before leaving the scene.

Moscow was interesting, to say the least. I wish I enjoyed myself more but I learned a lot. I think it will take some time before Moscow becomes an international tourist destination. As more business people and wealthy travelers access the city, more services will become available. But as long as a night at a hotel starts at almost $500; information is only available in Russian; hotel concierge desks are the only option for tourists to contact tours that are in turn the only way to gain entrance to points of interest, Moscow will remain impossible for the average tourist to navigate. It's frustrating to try to figure out a city when everything seems counterintuitive. The main take away from this experience was that regardless of whether I have a friend in that country, if I don't speak the language, I need to do a lot more research than I did for Russia. It's too bad that I didn't see the best side of Moscow and because of the difficulties I faced this trip, I'll likely never return to Russia. But it certainly was eventful.

10/3 Where the #@!& am I???

I left Paris early morning of 10/3 for Moscow to visit Marika. Moscow wasn't on my original list of places to visit but since I had a friend who lives in the city, it seemed like a good opportunity. Two days before I left Paris, Marika informed me that she would be in London until early Saturday morning. Though I was disappointed that we would only have the weekend to see each other, realistically with her schedule, I probably wouldn't have seen that much of her during the week anyway. And I figured I could join a tour group in Red Square and see the sights on my own. Marika arranged for a car to pick me up at the airport and a friend to meet me at her apartment so it seemed easy enough. But it wasn't and thus began my adventures in Moscow, or what I call a series of unfortunate events.

After waiting for nearly an hour while dodging aggressive cabbies and being unsuccessful at buying a phone card, I hopped in a taxi and made my way to Marika's. Since Marika lives in an apartment building, I pictured meeting her friend in the main lobby. I suppose it was presumptuous for me to think that Russia operates like the rest of the world. Turns out addresses in Moscow include slashes (i.e. 215/1 Main Street) and since the info I had didn't, the cab driver left me at what he thought was the right building. This was after winding down some side streets. Apartment buildings in Moscow don't have main lobbies. In fact, the front of the building looks like the back. To an outsider, there's nothing indicating an entrance. So I sat outside that building for a while since I had a huge duffel bag and a backpack. When it was clear no one was looking for me, I began my 2.5 hour trek around the neighborhood. I had transcribed Marika's address into Cyrillic and asked a couple of people who told me I was at the right location or pointed back to the building from which I came. I dragged my duffel around and around and back and forth a central area. Most people were indifferent while some looked on with sympathy, or what I like to think was sympathy. When I got tired of playing the reoccurring contestant in the "One of these things is not like the others" game, I gave up and walked onto the main boulevard. A woman stopped me, pointed at my bag and gave me a big explanation in Russian which I took to be, "You're not supposed to be on this street. Clearly you're lost." She pointed to a sign that looked like "Apartments" in Cyrillic and went on her way. Again, no main lobby but I did find a sign that I guessed to be the apartment numbers included in the building. I waited outside the one with Marika's apartment number, hoping that her friend would be on the look out. No such luck. At this point, it was starting to get dark and when it became clear that a rescue party was not going to appear, I had to find a place to spend the night. Since I had no idea where I was, it was a little difficult to orient myself so I could set off in the right direction. Taxis don't really do street pick ups in Moscow but I figured I could find one at a transportation depot. I remembered passing a train station on the way to Marika's so I headed in that direction. As I walked, I found what I thought was an internet cafe but the woman just yelled at me in Russian when I tried to pay. It was then that I wished I never left Paris.

As I dragged my duffel bag through the crowded streets, I was trying to plan what I would do once I got into a cab. How do I find a hotel? Should I go back to the airport where I saw a chain hotel? Where the fuck am I?

Just when I thought I could not take any more of the confusion and frustration, I walked through construction scaffolding and heaven appeared across the street. Hallelujah! I was saved. And my savior's name was the Sheraton Palace Hotel.

Moscow was recently named the most expensive city in the world. Hotel room fees are astronomical but I would have paid an arm and a leg at that point. I got a nice room with a plush king size bed and ordered in dinner. After phoning Marika in London, we arranged for her friend to pick me up the next evening at the hotel. To give you an idea of how things are done in Russia, the cost of the 20 minute call to London was double that of my dinner, which included a bottle of Kressmann Bordeaux. I went to bed hoping that this day was just a fluke.

I want to say that at no point during this experience did I think I was in danger. I didn't fear that someone would try to rob or attack me. And as I was walking around and around, I thought back to when I went to Seoul for the first time on my own for my junior year abroad. Poor planning had me landing at night and while I took Korean language lessons, I was a true beginner. The taxi driver couldn't find his way to the international dormitory and out of frustration, he dropped me off on the main street. The only store I could see was a bakery that had just closed. I had no idea where I was or in which direction I should set off. Fortunately, the first person I stopped spoke English. Not only did this man help me drag my bag up the hill to the dorm, he explained who I was to the security guards who didn't speak English and made sure I was safely in my room before leaving. To a lesser degree but like this kind man, the woman in Moscow who stopped me and pointed out the sign for the apartment building proved my belief that when they can, people want to be of help. When they can't, like the taxi driver in Seoul and the crazy internet lady in Moscow, reactions are universal. First, they yell in their language even though you clearly can't understand. Then they ask themselves why you're so stupid and how they got themselves into this mess. And, finally, they throw their hands up and leave. Or ignore you until you leave, in the internet lady's case.

9/24 - 10/3 Paris With Anthony

I returned to Paris for the last week of September and was really looking forward to my friend Anthony joining me. I met Anthony on my first new years in California and while we've been friends since, we'd never gotten a chance to spend one-on-one time. This was his first time in Paris and I was sure he'd love it as much as I do.

The end of September brought rain and I was afraid the whole week would be overcast. I had saved visiting the Louvre and the Picasso Museum for after Anthony arrived. I found the Louvre completely overwhelming. The line to see the Mona Lisa wasn't as bad as I had been warned and the experience was better than I thought it would be. I suppose I had lowered my expectation after being told over and over again how disappointing the display is. The Picasso Museum was perfect. The size of the space, an old school, and the flow of the exhibitions made it a very enjoyable experience.

I don't know how the French aren't fat. There are an endless number of great restaurants and a typical French meal ends with cheese and dessert. Anthony and I ate our way through the city, enjoying amazing wine and going back to our favorite mussels joint. For Saturday night, we went to Alcazar, a trendy restaurant in Saint Germaine des Pres. The guidebook said a good night club was next door so we thought it would be a fun night out. Alcazar could be in San Francisco or New York. The interior was designed by Terence Conran and the food reminded me of New American cuisine that San Francisco does so well. As we exited the restaurant to go to the club, we noticed that the line to get into Alcazar's upstairs bar was a lot longer (or, existed) than the line for the club. Uh oh. But we forged ahead. DK Eyewitness Travel is my preferred travel guide series. As their slogan goes, they show you what others only tell you. Apparently, everyone likes their Paris guidebook because the club was packed with international folks and no French people could be found. Bad music and bad dancing led us back to Alcazar and Anthony and I danced the night away there.

Not everyone would choose to spend his birthday away from home but Anthony is special. He hopped on a plane and said what the hell, why not join Jackie in Paris. On his birthday, we took a bus and boat tour that ended with a lunch at Altitude 95 in the Eiffel Tower. It was another rainy day and they closed access to the top but it was still a lot of fun to see the details of the iron work. France hosted the Rugby World Cup and they had a clever display at the tower. When we stopped for a snack near the Tuileries, Anthony got a close up of one of his favorite things about Paris: Parisian men in pin striped suits. Parisians definitely know how to dress.

Anthony left the next day so I spent my last day trying one more time to visit the Opera House. Marc Chagall was commissioned to paint the ceiling of the auditorium in 1964. The Opera House is itself a magnificent building and the interior is gorgeous. But the ceiling of the auditorium is a special treat for anyone who likes Chagall.

New York will always be home, San Francisco will always have a special place in my heart and Seoul will always be my playground but there is something truly magical about Paris. The entire city is so aesthetically pleasing and charming. It's accessible and the Metro system is a tourist's best friend. Even though I spent so much time here, I know there's more to find out about this city. And I look forward to visiting again.

Anthony's and my photos can be found here.

9/15 - 9/24 The Loire Valley

On Saturday, 9/15, I took the train to Orleans to meet my parents for our walking tour. All around France, there are walking trails, Grande Randonnees or "GRs", maintained by the Federation Francaise de la Randonnee Pedestre. We followed a section of the GR3 which covers the Loire Valley. My dad loves France and my parents have enjoyed village-to-village walking tours around Provence. It's one of their favorite activities so for my dad's birthday, I suggested we do a walking tour together. It was an opportunity to spend time with my parents and see a completely different part of France.

Instead of getting off at Orleans, I panicked and got off at Les Aubres Orleans. I heard "Orleans" and saw a lot of people getting off so I didn't want to miss my stop. The funny thing is that when I got to the lobby of the station, I saw my parents. I thought, "How nice that they came to pick me up," but in reality, they had done exactly what I had. It was a lucky coincidence.

Orleans is a cute town with a charming downtown square. Cafes, restaurants and a carousel attract young people and families alike. Since it's not far from Paris, it's a nice weekend destination. The next day we started our walk in Meung sur Loire and followed the river to Beaugency. I took a nap while my parents explored the town. Somehow, the day we were there was the only day that certain buildings were open to the public. So I missed my one chance to see Caesar's Tower, the Abbey Church of Notre-Dame and other historical attractions. My timing was impeccable.

Following the blazes, we walked onto Lestoire planning to have lunch. Turns out there is literally nothing in Lestoire. The woman at the town hall (maybe the mayor?) offered to drive us to Avary but we chose to walk. When people talk about the French, there's often this misconception that they're snobby and look down at Americans. I've never found this to be true and, in fact, more often than not, people were very helpful and curious about our adventure.

Our plans took us to Chambord which is known for being home to the largest estate in Europe and its Chateau. King Francis I had the chateau built as a hunting lodge and Henry II and Louis XIV often visited until Versailles was erected. Chambord is 156m long and 56m tall with 77 staircases, 282 fireplaces (the mouths of which were all taller than I) and 426 rooms. It's quite a hunting lodge. The estate itself is the size of Inner Paris. While blueprints no longer exist, it is thought that Leonardo da Vinci is the architect.

The next few towns were quite residential. Everyday the scenery changed, from forest land to open farm fields. We walked past many grapevines and every night we tried a different local wine.

Aside from a couple of days of rain, the weather was perfect. It drizzled for our walk from Cellettes to Chauds sur Loire. As we passed a private estate, the owner stopped us so he could inform us of the significance of the road we were taking. It turns out the pathway was used by Charlemagne. The estate owner also told us that he was a son of the American Revolution, as his family had helped fight the British.

My part of the trip ended at Amboise. My parents had another week of walking and went on to Tours. Our last day together was a little hectic since it poured and we ended up walking a lot more than we planned. Two things I learned that day: 1) my high school lacrosse windbreaker is not waterproof and 2) a 17-year old guide book can miss updates to the GR.

This part of my two-month trip was one of the most important to me. You probably couldn't guess from the photo but my dad just turned 80 years old. Parts of the walk were difficult and I thought it would be stressful for him. My dad reassured me that he was really enjoying himself and the fact that this may be their last trip to France (my parents travel quite a lot and have many destinations on their list) made it especially dear to him. Our parents do so much for us and I've often found it difficult to find a way to show mine how grateful I am for our relationship. My parents recently told me that they both felt this was their best trip to France. Mission accomplished.

My photos are here. My dad is a much better photographer than I am and his photos are here.

9/10 - 9/15 City of Lights

After a long flight from UB, I arrived in Paris in the late afternoon on 9/10. The bustling streets could not have been a greater contrast to the humble Mongolian countryside.

My hotel was in Montparnasse, best known for having hosted expat American writers such as Hemingway. Its bars, restaurants and metro access made it a great neighborhood to stay in for the week. I'd been to Paris once before but for a very short stay. My friend Amy and I visited one of her friends who had returned to France after living in Boston. Laurent was a fantastic host and during our three days there, I fell in love with Paris. This week was a chance to find out more about this incredibly beautiful and lively place.

I spent most of my time walking in neighborhoods and visiting museums. Almost everyone suggested I visit the Musee d'Orsay since I missed it on my first trip. Their collection is indeed very impressive but I was annoyed by the layout of the space. For those unfamiliar, the d'Orsay is in a converted railroad station. The central space is dedicated to sculpture while small rooms to the side house paintings and drawings. It was a treat to see so many works by French masters in one space though. Of all the museums I visited, I was pleasantly surprised that my favorite turned out to be Musee de l'Orangerie. The building itself is so plain, it's easy to overlook it walking through the Jardin des Tuileries on your way to the Place de la Concorde. Its main attraction is Monet's water lily series. Two large oval-shaped rooms each feature enormous paintings on three walls. The genius is in the presentation since the l'Orangerie is flooded with natural light provided by wide skylight windows. It was a fantastic way to look at the seminal works. The basement is home to Walter Guillaume's collection of paintings by artists of the Ecole de Paris, from the late Impressionist period to the interwar period. It was incredible to see choice pieces by Cezanne, Modigliani, Picasso, Matisse and others.

As easy as it is to explore Paris, it can get lonely going it alone. To give myself a chance to say more than "bon jour" and "merci" for a few hours, I joined a free walking tour. In approximately four hours, the tour highlights the major points of interest. Our tour guide Sara, a British expat studying French lit, was hilarious and had an impressive knowledge of the history of the city. I highly recommend New Paris Tours as a way to quickly familiarize yourself with central Paris.

Knowing I had an additional week in Paris at the end of the month let me take it easy the first week. I was looking forward to meeting my parents on Saturday for our walking tour of the Loire Valley.

9/7 to 9/10 Final Days

9/7 was a day of leisure. We had the option to ride which most took up. I had caught what turned out to be a stomach virus and rested. The weather and scenery made for a pleasant day off. In the afternoon we visited Jergdallen's ger and family. The little boy in the photos is his son but really his grandson. Jergdallen's son is either not going into the family business and/or lives far away. Jergdallen and his wife adopted their grandson in order to teach him the ways so he may one day inherit the herds of sheeps, goats, yaks and, of course, horses.

Jergdallen's son was much less shy than the other kids we met. It may be because he's met all the other non Mongolians who have been on tour. Past participants have sent batches of photos back and he pleaded Jergdallen to put a photo of him in the front. The conversation went as follows:

Son: Put this picture in the front.
Jergdallen: There's room for it in the back.
S: No! Put it in the front.
J: How about the middle?
S: No one's going to see it if it's in the middle!
J: Okay, I'll put it in the front.
Jergdallen's Wife: Oh, just put the album away! We have company and you're being rude.

It played like a sitcom. At least it was more productive than my conversations with Bootsy that went like this:

Jackie: Okay, time to canter! Come on, Bootsy! Tro, tro! Tro, tro!
Bootsy: Um, no.
J: PLEASE!
B: Nope.
J: Here comes the whip...
B: All righty then.
(30 seconds later.)
J: Oh come on!
B: Hehe.

The next day we had to say good-bye to Dogii and Jergdallen (and Bootsy). We were all pretty sad since who knows if our paths will cross again, even if we return to Mongolia. We wished them luck for the coming months and were off for a drive to "Piece of Sand", an area at the very edge of the Gobi. We had a chance to ride camels but I passed. It was entertaining to watch Jim and Katie try to manage the animals though. Listening to the camels made me think of Star Wars. In fact, we found postcards of costumes worn by Mongolian princesses and clearly George Lucas's costume designers borrowed heavily for princess Amidala.

The following day was spent driving back to UB on terrible roads. It didn't take as long as the first day out but it was just as uncomfortable. We got back in time for me to check out the main square very briefly. Then we saw a performance of traditional song and dance.

As I mentioned before, the staff at Nomads really took care of us well. I had never been on an organized tour like that so it was a nice first experience. Everyone was friendly and respectful and the participants all agreed that Mongolia more than lived up to our expectations. I went away with a desire to see much more of the country (we only covered a small part of central Mongolia) and a definite plan to return. The people of the countryside were all incredibly warm and welcoming. Almost everyone asked if I was Mongolian and didn't believe Mishidma when she told them I wasn't. This was really the first time people have had that kind of reaction. In Korea I am always asked if I'm Chinese or Japanese. I will think back to this trip very fondly and hope to get back to Mongolia soon.

Here is the link to the last of the photos. I ran out of juice the last few days and had to eek out photos with my other camera: http://www.flickr.com/photos/54764455@N00/sets/72157602153514067/