Bling Flea Market @ Platoon Kunsthalle

Last Saturday night I went with some of my Taekwon-Do friends to the Bling Flea Market in Apgujeong / Cheongdam, Seoul. We wanted to support one of our members, Bia, who was the DJ for the first part of the evening. Already you should be wondering why would a flea market require a DJ, why is it held at night time, and why is there a flea market in Apgujeong, one of the richest areas in Seoul? Well, the monthly Bling Flea Market is no ordinary flee market, and it is held at no arbitrary place, but at Seoul’s Platoon Kunsthalle.

“Platoon Kunsthalle is build of 28 iso cargo containers” which are “stacked” to “form a unique construction that can be rebuilt anywhere else any time,” and its purpose is to function as a “space [for] subculture in Asia,” focused on those “cultural movements” that occur “beneath the radar,” “like street art, graphic design, fashion, video art, programming, music, club culture, political activism, etc.” [Edited from About Platoon.]

The Bling Flea Market, organized by The Bling Magazine, is mostly a place where new and second hand clothing, often of a vintage variety, and other odd stuff are available at very affordable prices. Many of the vendors are in the fashion industry themselves, like models and young designers. I bought a scarf and a tie which I’ll show case in some self-portraits some time.

Speaking of portraits, look what I found on the Net. Yes, that is me, caught on camera by The Xoxo Kids at the Bling Flea Market. Definitely not one of the best portraits of me, especially not while wearing that 80s cap. Chad, who took the picture, is a model, working in Seoul, and is responsible for capturing fashion trends in Korea on film for his blog.

Well, I also did some capturing. Here are two vendors at the flea market that posed for photos:

Apparently the white teddy bear above is a panda bear, like the one on her jersey. I'm assuming it is an albino panda. Cuddly, nevertheless. And below is me camoflaged as a scarecrow:

Little 1 Minute North vs South Korean Navel War Recently

Apparently there was a short exchange of fire between a North Korean naval ship and a South Korean naval ship in the West Sea, three days ago. Read more...

This is just to remind us all that North Korea and South Korea are still at war. Something one so easily forget when living in South Korea's (relative) peace and affluance.

Die goewerment maak my onrustig

(Image Source: Digital Journal)

Daar is al hoe meer en meer dinge omtrent Suid-Afrika, spesifieke die goewerment, want my onrustig maak.

Ek het in Augustus my mening gegee oor die nuwe Orwelliaanse wet rakende selfone wat geregistreer moet word. Intussen het iemand vir my ’n artikel aangestuur omtrent TV-lisensies wat moontlik gaan verval en met belasting verruil gaan word. Een persent inkomste belasting sal voortaan die gekose manier wees – ondanks die feit dat sommige mense, soos ek, nie ’n televisie het nie, ook nie ’n radio aanhou nie. Ek luister na my eie musiek, en kyk flieks op my rekenaar, lees boeke, en het allerande ander media, soos die Internet, wat buite die spektrum van TV-lisensies val. Waarom moet ek 1% ekstra inkomste belangsting betaal vir iets waaruit ek geen voordeel as belangstingbetaler gaan trek nie?

My broer stuur vroeër vandag aan my ’n ander nuusartikel waarin Edna Mamonyane woordvoerder vir Johannesburg se metro polisie sê dat “Citizens should not be surprised to see the army in downtown Johannesburg. We need them for protection and to keep us and the people safe.” ’n Staande weermag hoort nie aktief te wees in die land tensy vir nasionale krisisse nie. Probeer hulle ons mak maak aan die idee van die weermag in ons strate? Die gevaar van die weermag in ons strake moet binne die konteks gesien word van onlangse oproeringe en protes binne die weermag, en sprake van unies in die weermag. Ek is jammer, maar die idee van die weermag so aktief binne die land herinner my aan daardie Afrikalande waar die weermag staatsgrepe uitvoer. En ’n mens durf nie vergeet van wat in Amerika aan die gang is nie, met weermag en polisie wat saam die publiek onderdruk – G20, Pittsburg, any one?!

Maar wie moet ons meer vrees, die weermag of die polisie? Volgens ’n ander artikel (ook onder my aandag gebring deur my patriotiese jonger broer) gaan die polisie nou vrye teuels hê om te skiet soos nodig. Nou ja, ek weet nie van jou nie, maar ek is geensins gerus met die polisie nie. Dit het begin reeds toe ek op skool was, moontlik standard ses of sewe, en ons elkeen ’n toespraak moes lewer in die Afrikaanse klas. Die onderwerp: Wat is jou toekomstige vokasie? Tot my skok het feitlik elkeen van die boelies in die standard, al die “jocks” met min tussen die ore, en ’n honger vir mag en manipulering, ewe trots aangekondig dat hulle polisiemanne gaan word. En op daardie oomblik het ek geweet dat as hierdie karakters wat so graag ander afknou, wat self nie eens die skool reëls onderhou nie, eendag die polisiemanne in die gaan wees, dan is daar bitter min hoop vir ’n regverdige geregtigheid nastrewende polisie. Nou verbeel jou daardie boelies van ouds, met gewere en die toestemming om te skiet soos hulle lus het. Ek sidder... Nietemin verstaan ek dat die polisie die swaard dra, en gereg moet laat geskiet, veral in ’n land waar met een van die hoogste geweldmisdaadsyfers in die wêreld. Dit maak steeds nie dat my idee van die polisie ’n positiewe een is nie.My idee omtrent die polisie is natuurlik stereotiep en onregverdig, en om die waarheid te sê ek ken ’n handjie vol polisiepersoneel en hulle is glad nie die boelies van my skooljare nie. Maar my versigtigheid teenoor die polisie is ook nie ongegrond nie. Elke af en toe hoor ’n mens ’n nuusstorie wat jou hare laat regop staan.

One Test to Determine the Rest of Your Life

(Image Source: Zimbio)

This coming Thursday morning (November 12th) most of Korea’s commerce is suspended until 10am – including the university where I work. The reason for such freezing of Korea is the dreaded annual SAT (School Admission Test / Scholastic Aptitude Test), aka as the College Scholastic Ability Test, where Korean high school students’ futures will be determined. The SAT exam is probably one of the biggest life-determining events in the life of a Korean, as this single exam has the power to fate the university you are allowed to attend; and in Korea the university you attend can establish whether you will work for a great company, or a mediocre one. If you work for a great company you can become a huge success. If you don’t, you’ll just be average the rest of your life. Or, at least, that is the general theory; and the reason why Korean children are primed from kindergarten age in preparation of the SAT.

The tradition of taking such a test which will determine your future is a Korean tradition that stretches back for centuries. Only the smartest people, getting the highest scores on the appropriate tests, were able to work in the king’s court. To this day the traditional heroes of Korea’s long history are often associated with scholastic achievement. Take for example, the scholars Joong Gun, Twe Gye, Ahn Do San, Yi Sun Shin, and so on. Every Korean child knows who these people are, and know how smart they were. It is believed that the Yi Dynasty which lost against the Japanese during the early 1900s to become a Japanese colony, lost because they over emphasized learning over battle-readiness; intellectual pursuits over training soldiers for self-defence.

In recent times the so-called SKY-universities are everyone’s dream – Seoul National University, Konguk University, and Yongsei University. Those that make it to these universities, it is said, have a smooth sail ahead. Others should at least try to get into a university in Seoul, for it is believed that universities in the capital are better than universities outside of the capital. Failing at that, you are pretty much doomed to being average and you are likely to become a labour worker.

Of course, in reality life is not so black-and-white, but for many Koreans this is their reality. And for the poor Korean high school students, this coming exam is a pivotal moment. It is the reason why they haven’t slept properly for days, haven’t eaten a decent meal in weeks, haven’t hanged out with their friends for months. Or at least, that is what I am led to believe.

One thing is sure, I am glad I did not grow up in Korea. The pressures are unbelievably high, the expectations even more so, and the competition even worse than that. I am not very competitive, neither am I one to go with the flow or blindly succumb under peer / culture pressure. I don’t think I would have made it if I were to grow up in such a funnelled society.

Good luck to all the SAT-candidates! May their efforts, and their parents’ inhumane pressure, pay off.

Umm Kulthum

(Source: Picasa: Hans)

Umm Kulthum (1904-1975) was one of the greatest singers in the Arabic tradition. You may have heard her sing before without knowing it. This Egyptian singer is tremendously famous and still considered one of the greatest. Unfortunately it is difficult to find good quality recordings. One reason is her amazingly strong voice which caused the microphones to distort. During performances she had to stand a meter or two back from the microphone. The YouTube-video below showcases a collection of her live performances.



I wish I could find a good quality recording of some of her work.

North Korean TV Ads Take a Step in the Wrong Direction

Apparently, this North Korean beer TV-ad got the "TV Boss Sacked," because it is too capitalistic. While the beer ads seemed to have been working (as demand for beer increased during the time of the airing), Dictator-President Kim Jong-il did not approve.

How do you like those special effects?



Cheers to "North East Asia Matters: The Korean Peninsula," who blogged on this earlier.

Koreaanse muskiete

(Image Source)

Ek verlustig my in die dood van muskiete. Veral deesdae wanneer ek 'n muskiet dood geklap kry, roep ek 'n kreet van blydskap uit: "Lekker!" in Afrikaans, of "Yes!" in Engels, of "Asa!" in Koreaans. Vir wat is daar nog muskiete om my te teister? Dit is allermins al byna winter? Genugtig!, die winkels het al die wintersklere uit, en die kersfeesversierings op. Elke ding het 'n tyd; elke insek sy seisoen.

Buiten vir die gewone muskiete, is daar glo twee ander tipes, en volgens oorlewering GROOT muskiete, in Korea. Die eerste een word bergmuskiete genoem: "sanmogi." Aangesien ek aan die voet van 'n berg bly, is hierdie waarskynlik die muskiete wat my so buite-seisoenaal irriteer. Die tweede tipe muskiet is selfs vreesaanjaender en word "jeontoomogi" genoem -- en beteken iets soos "oorlogsmuskiete" en kan glo jou bloed selfs deur die dikleer van weermagstewels suig!

When I Die...

When I die I wish not to buried in an exquisite coffin, varnished and glossed, carved with decorative lines, adorned with gold-plated handgrips and gemmed studs, padded with silk and lace, and me spread out in an expensive Italian suit as if I’m going to a wedding. If a coffin is needed, let it be a cheap box of pine or some other inexpensive wood, preferably a type of wood that will deteriorate quickly and expose my decomposing body to Mother Nature’s womb in a proper, timely manner. And dress me, if dress is needed, in an old thin garb fit for a child of the streets. Honestly, I’d prefer not a coffin at all, if that is possible; and naked I entered, why not naked depart? And why should the corpse be lowered so deep – nearly to Hyades itself – where no plant could reach the nourishment of my cadaver? Ideally, if your sentiments require covering then wrap my corpse in a sheet of cotton, drop it in a shallow hole, and plant a tree on top of it: a sturdy tree; preferably one that bears fruit, or one known for its comforting flowers – a Mulberry or a Magnolia. But before bagging me, cut out all that can be used. Excavate the internal organs: heart, lungs, liver, kidneys; pluck out the eyes – astigmatism and all; peel the skin and hair; suck out the bone marrow; and whatever else can be of use to some poor soul in need of something. Then let the remains be food for that tree.

While, at this moment, I’m fond of my body and relish all the sensuous perceptions it allows me – the sweet and the bitter, food and hunger, the vast array of polyphony, the great spectrum of colours, all kinds of textures under my touch, the explosion of orgasms, the sting of snow against my face, the sweat on my brow in summer, the aroma of lilies, the great comfort of deep sleep – I will not miss such things in death for “the dead know not anything, neither have they any more a reward.”

Thus, it is with Knut Hamsun that I pray:

“Oh Lord, I pray thee do not let me die
In a bed with sheets and blankets piled upon
And with dripping noses about me.
Nay, smite me someday without warning,
That headlong I fall into the forest some place
Where no one will come around nosing.
I well know the forest, I am its son,
It will not deny my humble request
To die on its cranberry bog.
Thus will I give back without word of complaint
My mighty cadaver to its creatures all,
To the crows, the rats and the flies.”

Mmm...

“This is our purpose: to make as meaningful as possible this life that has been bestowed upon us; to live in such a way that we may be proud of ourselves; to act in such a way that some part of us lives on.” -- Oswald Spengler

I wonder . . .

. . . why I do not have bigger eyes? For clearly I'm nocturnal.

Jim Reeves sing in Afrikaans?!

Dis 'n stukkie van die Afrikaanse geskiedenis wat ek heeltemal van onbewus was. In my voorbereiding vir my klas "Poetry in Music" (ons behandel tans "Country Music"), het ek op hierdie Afrikaanse liedjie deur Jim Reeves, afgekom. Ek weet dat Jim Reeves was 'n gunsteling onder die ouer garde (my ma het graag na hom geluister), en ek het self 'n album, maar ek het nooit geweet dat hy sy tone in Afrikaanse-waters gesteek het nie. Luister gerus na "In die skadu van ou Tafelberg."



Die son verrys oor die baai
waar die suid-oostewind waai -
'n Tafelkleed hang oor Ou Tafelberg.
Ek sien in my drome
die silwerblaarbome
in die skadu van Ou Tafelberg.
Daar is 'n traan in my oog,
wat my verlange verhoog,
terug na die skadu van Tafelberg.
Ek hoop om vir altyd
te bly sonder afskeid
in die skadu van Ou Tafelberg.
Ek hoop om vir altyd
te bly sonder afskeid
in die skadu van Ou Tafelberg.

To Autumn

So many other bloggers (particularly South African bloggers living in Korea) are showing their appreciation of the awe inspiringly beautiful autumn foliage. The colours are so striking that one would believe them artificial, as one blogger suggested: “Die kleure is net doodeenvoudig ongelooflik en lyk soms onnatuurlik, so asof iemand oral plastiekblare ‘geplant’ het” [The colours are so unquestionably astounding and looks at times unnatural, as if somebody ‘planted’ plastic leafs everywhere]. Indeed, it looks like a staged scene for a fairytale. Pasted are some “fairytale” pictures I took on the campus where I live.

Autumn is definitely my favourite season, not only in Korea, but in South Africa as well. It might have something to do with the fact that I was born in autumn. Another South African blogger calls autumn a “halfweghuis” [halfway house], a place of recuperation after the summer and a time for preparation before the coming cold. I thought that a beautiful image.

A colleague recently, while both of us were admiring the beautiful colours, told me that she learned from autumn that death need not be ugly. In fact, death can be beautiful, as autumn is beautiful – the leaves are dying, but in their death they are changing into such inspiring colours. Quite a beautiful image too.

Yet another South African blogger, rather appropriately, started quoting poetry. Who better that the poets, and of all the poets the Romantics, to evoke the most striking autumn-images? My favourite is John Keats’ “To Autumn”:

To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Here are some links to autumn-themed photos I took last year:

• Autumn Self-Portrait
• A Room with a View
• Colourful Theology
• Autumn Colours
• (Natural) Christmas Tree
  

The Dangers of Commuting in Korea during the Winter Season

Me getting cold -- Korean Winter 2006

The thing I probably dislike most about Korean winters is not the cold itself. It is the extreme artificial heating one experience on the public transportation system. Imagine being cocooned in layers of insulating garb: a vest, a shirt, a cardigan or sweater, a jacket, all covered with a down-feather jumper, and add to this a scarf, earmuffs, and a beanie. The description seems excessive only to those that have not been outside on Korea’s coldest days, easily dropping to below -10° Celsius. Picture yourself nuzzled in such apparel, safely protected from the bone cutting coldness outside, and then boarding a bus or subway train that is heated far above what would even be considered moderate summer temperatures. The contrast from the outside is immediately noticeable; it is like stepping into a sauna. But what would be a lifesaving haven for the scantily dressed frostbitten fashion slave that doesn’t know how to dress warmly during the cold season, or for the unfortunate poor that cannot afford clothing, such heated "comfort" becomes a hell, in an almost literal sense, for those that are already dressed warmly.

Lest you become a barbecued chicken—for that is the feeling one gets, steaming away in your layers of clothing—undress is your only salvation. But taking off ones clothes in the confines of a moving vehicle is a task that is in the worst case a dangerous endeavour, and in the least case disturbing for oneself and ones neighbour. Dangerous, because it requires the dexterity and balance of a gymnast to contort oneself out of your cocoon in a vehicle which is continually accelerating and decelerating. Unless you are seated—and in Korean public transport a seat is not guaranteed—undressing while in perpetual motion one can easily become unbalanced and fall, hurting oneself or an innocent fellow commuter. And disturbing, as such stripping often entails flaying limbs which, although accidently, tend to poke and hit those around you—all squeezed together in a confined, incessantly rocking carriage. Apart from the dangers of being cooked alive, there exists also a secondary risk of catching a cold because of the extremes of temperature experienced when coming in and out of the piping hot transportation vehicle.While the Korean transportation system is in one sense one of my favourite things about the country, in another sense it is the context for one of my greatest irritations.

Papiere en rooipenmerke

Ek het ’n hele klomp ure vandag afgestaan aan die nasien van vraestelle, opstelle, opdragte, en toetse. Ek en ’n vriendin het in ’n koffiewinkel gaan sit en merkwerk doen. Alhoewel ek baie gevorder het, is ek nog steeds nie waar ek wil wees nie en het nog steeds stapels wat lê en wag vir my. Al ding wat ek werklik nie van my werk hou nie is die hoeveelheid merkwerk wat dit behels. (Ek het ’n studente-assistent, maar universiteitsregulasies laat nie toe dat assistente met merkwerk help nie. Gevolglik vee sy my kantoor een maal per week uit en maak fotostate, maar nie van toetste en vraestelle nie.) Natuurlik besef ek dat dit 'n integrale deel van my beroep is, maar anders as silabusontwikkeling, klasvoorbereiding, klasgee, en fasilitering, is merkwerk die deel waarvan ek die minste hou. Dit herinner my aan skottelgoed was en klere struik -- ook items baie laag op my lys van hedonistiese plesiere. Dit vereis die intellektuele kapasiteit van 'n XT-rekenaar, en gee my 'n vae idee van hoe Marvin, die depresiewe robot in die Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy-reeks, moet voel: "I've been ordered to take you down to the bridge. Here I am, brain the size of a planet and they ask me to take you down to the bridge. Call that job satisfaction? 'Cos I don't." My brein is nie die grote van 'n planeet nie, maar dit is aansienlik groter as 'n XT-rekenaar.

Doctor Who

I do not watch TV. I do not own a TV. I don’t want a TV. Who has time? I have too much media to consume as it is. I do however occasionally get myself a specific TV-series (usually British) which I’d watch on my computer every so often. Currently I have My Family and Doctor Who. Of My Family I have seasons 1-8 and of Doctor Who I own seasons 1-5.

Last night it was initially my intention to go somewhere for Halloween, but it started to rain and since I lost my big umbrella I was not in the mood to go out. Instead I stayed in and started watching episodes of Doctor Who. I finished season 4, and only went to bed at around 6am.

Season 1 of Doctor Who was okayish, and at times even amateurish. Nothing to write home (or on my blog) about. But with each consecutive season the special effects just keeps improving and so do the storylines. It’s a wholly fun adventure about a “Timelord” (a time traveler) and his companions travelling through space and time, and fighting aliens both locally and afar.

For anyone with the ability to suspend their disbelief (i.e. fantasy and sci-fi lovers) I definitely recommend Doctor Who.It is good clean fun, and dare I say it, reveals some truths about the state of the world with its staged "national emergencies," terror attacks, and all the other attempts at fear mongering by the powers-that-be. But I'm probably just reading more into it than I should.