The Devil's Curly Hair...

Yesterday I got my first haircut in Korea.

I had been putting off going to a hairdresser for months because I was feeling a tad timorous about the prospect of getting my hair cut in a country where I can’t speak the language. I knew I would be unable to voice my protest at the inevitable point in the hairdressing process where the hairdresser tries to straighten my hair and force it to adopt a style that my unruly ringlets simply won’t accept. I decided to be a man though and march bravely into unknown territory. An appointment was made for me to meet my destiny yesterday afternoon and I vowed that though my head might be bloodied by the experience that it would remain unbowed!

Two of the teachers from my school accompanied me so at least I knew that I would have some trusty translators by my side whilst crossing enemy ground. When I entered the hair salon a collective hush fell over the room as the sleek straight haired hairdressers and clients gazed in horror upon my unkempt mane of wily curls. Ever since Eve tempted Adam with her serpentine locks we curlies have been eyed with distrust. In the eyes of some ‘the curly one’ is an agent of the devil and curls are symbolic of tendrils threatening to ensnare the virtuous and drag civilised man back down into the deep dark abyss so that he can never achieve enlightenment.

One of the hairdressers approached me cautiously keeping her hand on the pair of scissors in her pocket at all times lest my curls turn out to be Medusa-esque snakes that required severing at the neck. I was led to a sink where the hairdresser violently ‘massaged’ my head and dunked my hair into the basin, doubtless in an attempt to drown the serpents in my hair. When this first ordeal was over I was led to a chair where the hairdresser began the cutting process. Much to her alarm my hair started to curl up again as she was cutting so she started frantically straightening it with a comb and blow-dryer as she cut. However, this crude weaponry was not enough to keep my curls at bay and she was forced to call for reinforcements. I looked on in amusement as three perplexed hairdressers stood around my chair furrowing their brows in a vain attempt to understand the situation.  Thankfully, at this stage one of the Korean teachers appeared by my side and I asked her to reassure the hairdresser army that I actually liked the spirals and there was no need for them to try to destroy my coiled crew. Evidently, the hairdressers were loathe to accept this argument because they persisted in their attempts to tame my wild, unnatural, heathen tresses. I therefore had to sit still and endure it as my hairdresser continued to slash away at my vine like curls.

All in all, the experience was not unlike that of going to an Irish hairdresser. In fact, it was slightly less traumatic as I at least didn’t have to suffer through the whole ‘small talk’ fiasco that one usually has to go through at a salon.

I have learnt that curls are just too subversive for Korea’s conservative straight obsessed society. I may be shunned because of my big gay hair but I shall stay strong and stay curly dammit and I won’t let ‘the man’ try to straighten me out! FREEDOM!!!!!! (Sorry, Braveheart moment.)

In more interesting news I shall have the pleasure of a long weekend next week so I plan to fly to Jeju island for four days. Hopefully news of my expedition shall ensure that my next blog will be less arduous to read than my recent rant about the plight of the curly haired…

P.S. Here is a clip of Simon Amstell extolling the virtues of those who shun the hair straightener and wear their bouffants with pride!

The parting of ways...

Alas alack woe betides me for my mighty comrade has fallen. Sarah is no more. Well I mean she still technically exists in the world at large but she is no longer an honorary guest of the Korean nation. She is leaving on a jet plane this very day for Australia; home of the koala, the duck-billed platypus and the descendants of thousands upon thousands of Irish criminals.

We spent last weekend in Seoul together before the time came to say our tearful goodbyes. (Of course, this goodbye contained no actual tears as public and indeed private displays of emotion make me terribly uncomfortable. I guess it was more of a hearty parting handshake really...)

Seoul was good fun. We of course got horribly lost trying to find our hostel but with the aid of two spunky young Korean teens we made it there eventually! We stayed in hanok style accommodation so everything was a mite cramped but the ornate roof was ever so pretty.

We hung around Cheong-gye-cheon on Sat evening. Cheong-gye-cheon is a stream that was buried beneath the city until the powers that be decided to disinter it and turn it into a trendy hangout spot for youths. There's lots of funky artwork surrounding the stream and the stream itself is decked out with all manner of footbridges and mini-waterfalls. It is quite delightful to behold. I think the best part of the experience though was happening upon a group of colourfully dressed teenagers who were in the process of shooting a feature film. We looked on in amusement as the funky teens shot a choreographed dance routine beneath a bridge to the tune of a Korean pop song that simply contained the words 'Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, yoooouuuu' repeated over and over again.

After the river we went to a non-verbal Korean show called 'Nanta.' It's a kind of comedic drumming show set in a kitchen where all kinds of kitchen items - pots, pans, dishes, knives, chopping boards, water bottles, brooms and even the chefs- are turned into percussion instruments. Ahh...theatre...

The next day we journeyed to Jogye-sa: a Buddhist temple nestled in the heart of Seoul. There seemed to be some kind of event taking place as there was a large crowd of people worshipping and the trees surrounding the temple were adorned with a vast array of colourful lanterns. I think I may have been a little over stimulated by all the colours; I felt like a child dizzy on lemonade walking around beneath the rainbow trees.

After the temple we went strolling through a market street where Eoin was accosted by a group of English speaking Korean toddlers who were conducting interviews with foreigners under the watchful supervision of their proud mothers. They all had little notebooks and they asked him a question each such as 'where are you from?,' 'what's your favourite part of Korea' etc and at the end of the interview they all read out a line thanking him for his time in unison. It is common enough for us to be stopped by people wanting to practice their English skills or simply wanting to point at us and shout 'waeguk' (Korean for foreigner.) However, we definitely have seen an increase of interest as of late. Sarah, Eoin and I were hanging outside the local shopping centre one day when a group of teenage girls came over to make sport of us. They kept daring each other to come over and say 'hello' and then they would collapse into giggles at the sight of our risible white faces. We felt like some kind of fancy zoo monkeys being ridiculed by unruly children. Then, on the day we were due to get our bus to Seoul a lady spotted us sitting at the bus station and came over to have a good laugh. She asked Gareth where he was from and when he answered the 'UK' she knowingly nodded and said 'ah yes, Yugoslavia.' She then mocked Eoin's beard and called him a Jew and then shook my hand and said 'hello Monica Bellucci.' I would have found this case of mistaken identity hugely flattering if it were not for the fact that I have long since discovered that in the eyes of many Koreans I look like every brown haired celebrity that ever was because of course all we round eyes look the same. It was quite comical though. Our faces are ripe for parody.:)

Anyway, that is all my news so I shall leave you now to think about what you've done.

Be. Our. GUEST!

Dear Plebs,

I hope you are all quite well.

Come with me now on a journey through time and space as I take you back two weeks to the weekend when my fair friend (and worthy foe) Sarah came to visit.:)

Sazmataz was due to arrive on Sunday morning. Therefore, I had resolved to spend Saturday preparing for her arrival in the traditional manner of training the crockery to perform a perfectly choreographed musical number for her entertainment ala Beauty and the Beast. Unfortunately, my plans went awry as I am not adept in the arts of wizardry, nor do I live in an enchanted castle. Also, I was kinda hung-over on Sat so I wasn’t functioning at normal capacity…

We had gone out on Friday night to the local expat bar hoping to spot some others of our ilk. We were not disappointed as the Jinju French community were out and proud that night. We started the night in a bar then we went to the obligatory karaoke room and then to a club. I remember speaking perfect French all night and impressing all around me with my fluency and eloquent address. In reality, I think I may have been speaking a bastardised version of French that also incorporated English, Irish and possibly Korean. However, I had my fun and that’s all that matters. I also remember somehow obtaining a part in an upcoming amateur production of ‘The Vagina Monologues’… I’m not sure what the play entails but I can only assume it to be a sort of horror show featuring talking genitalia…

The next day Eoin, Gareth and I decided to go for a refreshing walk in the hills in order to recharge our chis. On the way up we decided to drop in at a temple to show Eoin the impressive murals that are painted on both the inside and the outside of this house of worship. The last time we had gone to this temple we were able to enter unmolested but this time round Eoin and I were lured into a small room by two elderly ladies. Once inside we were accosted by a tiny man who spoke to us in rapid Korean whilst gesturing wildly towards the various statues of Buddha that adorned the room. He then started performing an elaborate bowing ritual and he indicated that we were to follow suit. I therefore found myself in the bizarre position of having to nurse a hangover whilst frantically worshiping three golden gods and trying not to vomit with each fresh bowing motion. I can only hope our Lord will forgive me for my sins. He is the most forgiving of all the gods though. 'All gods Crilly, what other gods are there? FALSE GODS!' Ha, I love that line in Ted. Each time I made a fresh bow to Buddha I could hear Bishop Brennan yelling ‘false gods’ in my ear is his manic Limerick accent.:) We emerged bewildered from the temple to find the two old ladies who had ushered us in there contorted with laughter at our expense. Well mockin’ is catchin’, that’s all I’ll say.

I received a rather amusing email from my prospective guest on Saturday informing me that she had in fact missed her flight due to her inability to read the 24 hour clock; turns out that 1.00 am on Sat night is actually technically 1.00 am on Sat morning. All was not lost though as she was able to reschedule her flight free of charge! This is not the first time I have heard of an innocent traveller being tricked by the treachery of the 24 hour clock. Time makes fools of us all.

Sarah arrived on Sunday morning and I whisked her away to my coven where I showed her to the guest room and let her know that the meals would be at eleven, one, half-two, three, five, seven, and nine, and if she wanted a quick snack, she could just ask Gareth. We then gave her the grand tour of the apartment. This took roughly two and half minutes as we live in a box.

Unfortunately as I work most of the live long day we could only spend the mornings with our guest and she had to amuse herself from two to ten each day. However, she fared valiantly and when the weekend came we packed our bags and said goodbye to the circus. Our intention was to journey to Gwangalli beach to see the cherry blossom festival that was rumoured to be taking place there. However, we saw but a smattering of cherry blossom trees and none of them burst into bloom while I was looking at them… Luckily, the beach was splendid anyway as there was an amusement park stationed right beside it. Spending the day on rollercoasters was probably more fun than watching trees slowly blossom anyway.:) We went on the big wheel and the ‘diving rollercoaster’ and a good time was had by all. I shall attach a video of us on said rollercoaster as it is highly amusing to behold our terror.

When night fell we hung around the beach to watch the buildings and the bridge illuminate in a multi-coloured light show. Twas a splendid sight. We even saw a ye olde pirate-esque ship all lit up out at sea.

We had a drink at a bar by the waterfront and then ventured into town to find an Irish pub that young master Eoin was eager to frequent. When we arrived we were greeted by the sight of a slew of young ladies dressed as young men and young men dressed as young ladies for it was drag night that Saturday. I felt most ridiculous walking around with no moustache… I was surprised to find that there were even one or two Korean men dressed as women. Korea is ever so conservative and even sporting an unconventional hairdo or a piercing or two is considered unacceptable so wearing a dress would definitely be a fashion faux pas over here. Gayness definitely seems to be frowned upon; Korean men must perform compulsory military service and if two men are found guilty of conducting a homosexual relationship they can be dismissed on charges of ‘reciprocal rape!’ Now that’s a contradiction in terms if ever I heard one. Anyway, I digress. The drag party was lots of fun and we all got very merry. Eoin spent most of the night dancing with a tiny woman who he had to carry around in his arms in order to make eye contact; he placed her on a nearby shelf whenever his arms were tired. This same gentleman later slapped Gareth across the face in response to being informed that one of our party was sick. Not the most reasonable reaction in the world...

The next day we went to Beomeo-sa to admire the pretty lanterns and the colourful temple walls. Feast your eyes on this kaleidoscope of colour.

Sarah left yesterday for Seoul but we shall be joining her there on Sat for one last hurrah before she flees the country! Tune in next week for more exciting adventures!:)