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Another Year and What We're Eating

The new year came and went without much ado. I heard a guy on TV recently say "On New Year's Eve, no one really knows what to do apart from stay up late." And for our case at least, I'd have to agree. Heather and I felt like doing something special, but it was really cold and we had to wake up early. So we were fast asleep by 11:30pm, which was the first time I'd slept through the countdown in probably 20 years.

Is this the dawn of our middle-age?

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Lotteria is Korea and Japan's version of McDonald's. I don't eat much fast food in general, but the odd McDonald's breakfast sometimes works its way into a late night out. Fast food in Australia is relatively cheap, but in Korea it's more expensive than kimbap cheonguk. So I'll usually go for the healthier option.
It would be nice to say that Lotteria is better than McDonald's, but that would be false. Lotteria doesn't put a lot of effort into making its food palatable, and comes up with all sorts of intriguing burger non-ideas. I tried their old 'Australian Burger' once, which had harder bread (supposedly resembling damper) and their 'Tropical Burger', which had a sad looking slice of tinned pineapple on an otherwise even-less-exciting meat patty. Now, to celebrate their 30 years of unremarkableness, they've released a Meat and Shrimp burger. That's what happens when you try to reconcile the overwhelming output from a hamburger company's creativity department. I believe it is colloquially known as the Shreat burger.

Or was it Mrimp?

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Heather seems to be enjoying her time off. Most days I have to eat near the lab, but on weekends we usually get a couple of good meals together. I cooked that beef thingy in the middle, which was a 2 hour stew.

Wasn't too bad.

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International food companies have long known that people's tastes are regional. That's why Vegemite doesn't sell in Korea (although now that I think about it, it probably would), and why Yoplait have successfully released this pumpkin yoghurt here.
Now, the funny thing isn't that they sell pumpkin yoghurt, it's that Heather bought it without batting an eyelid and still can't fathom why anyone would find it peculiar.

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Every once in a while our professor likes to take us out to eat somewhere flash. As you can see from the photo, Se-Kyung becomes particularly excitable when such moments occur.

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We had a buffet at the Ritz-Carlton that night. When I was younger I always saw a buffet as a challenge to eat more in value than the price you pay. Now a much wiser and indigestion-wary variant of myself approaches buffets with due caution.

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That's me on the left and our professor on the right. He happens to be very good at science and knows a lot about bacterial genetics.

But I'm probably better at Starcraft.

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The guy sitting in the middle is Dr Jin-Woo Kim, who recently came back from the US. He's a graduate from our lab and has been doing a post-doc at Indiana University.

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And here are the girls of the plant bacteriology lab, Se-Kyung, Chen Jing and Eun-Hye. Grad students in general are pretty strange people, but I would have to say that the girls in our lab resemble normal humans more than the boys do.

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Seoul National University has its pros and cons. It seems to be half-heartedly making progress away from endemic traditionalism and looking toward a more creative future. In global rankings like the Times Higher Education Supplement, it tends to lose points due to a shortage of international students and faculty. As the only Western student in the department, my suggestion for improvement would be to discourage the enormous socially-preserved gap between the status of the professors and those of the students. Professors deserve respect, but to the point where the students are discouraged from speaking their mind is a little contrary to the spirit of education.

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But as long as they give us free food, we'll stay happy for a while at least. Recently, our department decided to acknowledge its foreign constituents with a dinner for all of the international students. I don't know what prompted it, but it was a nice gesture and duly appreciated.

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And here's a breakfast that I cooked for wifey and me. Breakfast was one of the first things I learned how to cook, because my parents used to like breakfast-in-bed. The second thing I learned was how to make instant noodles. When we were young, my sister and I were addicted to Maggi 2-minute noodles. They were the highlight of our weekends.

Well it's back to lab work for me now. Blogging seems like a good way to take my mind off things. See you soon!

2009 - The Year That Was (Part 1)

Dearest 2009,

You weren't exactly what I expected, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. We had lots of good, great, and wonderful times together, and although there were perhaps a few less than mentionable ones, I would say overall I will look back upon you quite favourably. So let's hold hands and take a look back at the year that was you....

January

2009, you came into my life in true county style with a night spent curling followed by a delicious potluck, dancing, and Labatt 50s at a cheap motel. We do these sorts of things right in the county.


We sported the latest fashions.
I was quite impressed with my little brother’s ice rink. He and his friends found some black ice while doing doughnuts in the field … bad little brother... Tom then convinced the guy that lived next door to let him to use his water to feed the ice, and his power to hook up some lights so the boys could play a few games of puck … good little brother....

I also learned a very important lesson this month, sometimes being a bossy daughter actually gets you somewhere ... specifically Mexico.


February

Being unemployed and living in the county can be more than a little depressing, especially in the winter. Thankfully cameras are good best friends.....


..... and so is Allison.

March
A super wonderful friend came to visit ...


… I even made a few surprise visits myself

First stop Toronto for Cuff the Duke, Elliot Brood, and St.Paddy`s day .....





... then I was off to Montreal for hugs and dancing with old friends.

Dance, dance, dance with me!

April

April saw me take up my annual gentile duties at the Passover table of my most favourite of the chosen peoples.

I popped by the farm to see my favourite farmer ....




April was also the month I successfully started a little project to keep myself busy and awake in the mornings ....


But then, just like that, it was time to say my good byes to the ladies who lunch, the family, the newspaper man, old friends and new because my passport got a little heavier ...

.. and so off we went ....

Shenpa




I love this woman.

While I have never embraced the label of "Buddhist," I have been interested in Buddhism for a lot of years. Well before I caught the Korean bug at Alfred University, I caught the Buddhism bug at Brookdale Community College. I really bit into it when I was at Alfred and one of my favorite teachers, Ben Howard, had a number of Buddhist-related classes offered, like Contemplative Writing, and had Sunday evening public meditations at the theater. No, I did not attend many of these. I was a lazy Buddhist as well as a lazy English major.

By November 2005 I was about two-and-a-half years out of college and did not have a regular meditation schedule. I still don't, though I am aware of this and occasionally fall into a good groove.

By Nov. 15, 2005, I think I was very much outside of a groove when it came to meditation, to being with myself at that moment, as opposed to worrying so much about whether R. was missing me back home, whether the kids in class would accept me, whether I would accept them, whether that girl at Zio Ricco could be just what I needed to make me want to stay in South Korea.

Pema Chodron, that short-haired woman pictured above, is a Tibetan Buddhist nun I first discovered watching an interview she participated in with Bill Moyers on PBS. What I found so refreshing about her is that she is not perfect and never claims to be. Of a modern ilk of western teachers, she can relate to the lay practitioner as well as the severe Buddhist. In her book, "Getting Unstuck," she refers to those times in our lives when "the shit hits the fan." Dr. Howard would not approve.

In "Getting Unstuck," she is talking about something called "shenpa," or the hooked feeling we have in our minds, for good or ill. When something is just too juicy to not hold onto, a sexual desire for someone at work, the anger you felt when the guy in the Porsche on the highway cut you off and didn't even have the courtesy to use his turn signal, the prick. Things can bother us or make us happy, but when our minds just can't seem to let them go, can't seem to free us from this non-existent netherworld between our ears inhabited by our lusts, loves and hates, we deny ourselves everything that is available to us in our right nows, so much so a lot of us wouldn't even be able to tell you if it was cloudy or sunny this morning on the way to work or even what we ate for dinner last night.

I think about 90 percent of my time spent in Jinju in 2005 was spent under a massive cloud of shenpa. The other 10 percent was when I spoke warmly with new friends like The Boss and Bettina from Australia, when I opened the book and audio book on learning Korean and actually could identify what symbols sounded like what on road signs after only an hour of study, when I wrapped the meat and bean paste inside a delicious sesame leaf and chewed deeply, sighing at the combination of unique and wonderful flavors on my palette, right before shenpa came back and I remembered I was leaving Korea in less than a week and I still had not found a replacement teacher for Oh Sung Sik English Club.

It's not the shenpa that is the problem. It's not that we have bad thoughts, or that we have many bad thoughts. And having nothing but good thoughts wouldn't work either; how could we identify one without the balance of the other? It's when that balance no longer exists, and we just shut down inside. And who knows if those on the outside perceive this shut down and politely ignore it? Maybe they do not notice it at all? Maybe they all are having their own shut downs at the very same moment? What if we all could identify this and try to wake up? Maybe not completely, such a lofty, unattainable goal (I promise to make a million dollars by noon, I promise to attain enlightenment and float into the ether).

I listen to Pema Chodron's words (I have the audio book version, you should check out Audible.com, what a great program!) and I feel better, not only because it always feels nice to know you're not alone, but also because I know that in so listening and understanding, I am making progress, even when shenpa for ill comes up, as it will. It always does. The point is not to destroy it, it is to be open to it, to everything. Close up to it, and eventually you close up to everything.

Perhaps that was the biggest hurdle I could not seem to rise above in 2005. But, those mistakes and memories are what have made me who I am today and are part of the makeup of the person who is heading back across the world in less than two months.

—John Dunphy

Hey There Friend!

Before I took off for Sweden I visited Mary Beth in Suwon, a scruffy city just outside of Seoul. She is a bit of a local celebrity because she is this tall, smiley creature who actually speaks a little Korean. Everywhere we went she was introducing me to new faces - the galbi heroes and their mom, the chicken guy next door, the doormen ... - and they all seemed to love her just as much as I do.






As a tall person, Mary Beth is naturally good at, and loves tall people sports .... so we found ourselves at a Korean basketball game.

We all got into the game .....

... and this kid's amazing two-tone rat tail.

I even met one of the players ... but he wasn't exactly excited to meet me. I think he needed to eat some of his doughnuts to refuel.



HAPPY NEW YEAR, BABO

Wow, looky here. Two posts in two days. I'm impressing myself. This is all part of OPERATION BLOG REHABILITATION. This place used to be a happening party of reflection, silly stories, and abuse on the comments board, but FACEBOOK had to come along and shit in the soup. Well, these posts show up over there as well these days, where they are, sadly, much more read than here. Screw it, I'll bask wherever the sun is shining. It's unlike an attention-slut such as myself to be picky about where it comes from.

Let me relay you a story about my first day of the year:

Last Thursday - New Year's Eve - I left my house in a frenetic sprint (I was late) and began the evening in PNU, which is the big university are in Pusan for any and all of you unKorean people out there. Sammy and I dined on Turkish food in a frigid basement restaurant. We were the only guests, save a table of about 15 chain-smoking Pakistani guys, who surreptitiously swigged off a whisky bottle (if you drink fast enough, Mohammed can't catch you) and shouted demands at the beleaguered proprietor of the joint, a squat Turkish guy who looked like a sweating meatball.

After dinner we headed to The Basement, for their big New Year's Party. My band was playing, so it was kind of a gig for me, as well. Sam felt sick and went home early, thinking he was coming down with the flu. The place filled up and I proceeded to drink beer like water at an oasis, and by the time we went on, you could say that I was indeed, totally caned. But we played and rocked and the people seemed to like us or be too drunk to care, and around 4AM the buses pulled up to take us to the beach.

Matt, the owner of The Basement - also owns a small bar called Blowfish out on Seongjeong Beach, so he chartered two buses to take the party out there. The idea was that we'd end the night at Blowfish and catch the first sunrise of the new year, a tradition in Korea. So before I knew it we were at the bar, drinking more beer and yes, watching the sun peek out from behind the horizon. It was beautiful, stirring, and really, really cold.

It had been cold the whole day before, with a Siberian wind whipping down onto The Peninsula. It hadn't let up in the morning, and the result was a painful beach. The wind cut through my clothes and made standing outside of the bar pretty much unbearable.

But all of the entering and exiting the joint had made the inside of the bar frigid as well. At one point I was talking to an English girl. Her face is a grey blur to me now, but she was very cold, and wanted to warm up in my coat - a big fuck off army parka I bought in Seattle last year. So, being a gentlemen of the highest stripe, I accommodated the lady and let her try it on. In the meantime, I had to pee, and went to the bathroom at the back of the place. There was a bit of a line, and it took me a few minutes to get back inside. Once I was, I saw the Little Miss Britain was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you see an English chick wearing a big black coat?"

"Oh, you mean *****? Yeah, she just went home."

She went home. With my coat, which also contained my phone. And my keys. I was fucked.

Some of her friends still lingered at Blowfish, and they gave me her number, which we tried calling, but English girl wasn't picking up. We then tried my phone as well, but, no luck.

"Oh, she's really flaky," her Irish friend confided. "She often gets really drunk and does stuff like this."

Great.

Not knowing really what to do or where to go, I hung out for a few more hours into the late morning, badgering her friends, turning evil and cranky, and generally being a miserable tit who managed to make myself well hated by this crew of degenerate Paddies and Brits. Eventually Pat, who owns The Crown, offered to share a cab with me back there, which we did, and then promptly passed out in the dank, cold bar.

I awoke that evening in the dark, shivering, to the smell of stale beer, cigarette smoke, and the faint scent of urine. The first thing I did was track down the slip of paper where I had written this girls' number and proceed to call her via the house phone. Again, no answer. My phone, no answer.

So I had a bit of an episode, a meltdown, as it were. I screamed. I attacked a chair. I repeatedly employed the word "cunt."

Pat woke up, gave me a look of death, and poured me a beer.

Happy New Year.

After half a beer and most of a cigarette (There goes my resolution, shit!), I dug through my wallet and found another piece of paper with her friend's number that I had barely managed to scrawl down in my drunken state. I called it. She picked up.

"I just want my coat. I really need my coat."

"I understand that. I'll try to reach my friend."

"I just want my coat. Where the fuck is my coat?!!?

"Why are you shouting at me? Don't shout at me!!" (click)

Oops.

Ten minutes later the phone rang. I pick it up. It's English girl, on someone else's line. She was sorry. She had lost her phone. She'd get my coat to me that night.

And she did. It took about four hours of phone tag and talking to drunken vegetables, but eventually she put the coat in a taxi and I guided the driver to my location, the saddest bar in Busan.

Finally! My jacket! Warmth! Communication! Keys... keys? No, keys.

My keys were gone.

"Sorry, I never saw any keys," English girl replied during that last conversation.

Sam joined me at The Crown and we got good and fuzzy on shitty beer. Later on we shared at taxi back towards his place. We live near each other (heterosexual life mates) and I considered sleeping on his floor. Earlier, though, a Korean friend had text me the number for a locksmith, so I gave it a call and he picked up, agreeing to come over. I got out of the cab to wait for him.

It was then that I realized I had no money. So I walked three blocks to the bank, but the ATM's close down after midnight. I then jumped in a taxi over to Sam's, borrowed 40 bucks, and went back to my place, just in time for locksmith ajosshi to pull up in his van.

He got out. We boarded my elevator and made our way up. We stepped out of the elevator, and approached my door.

There, in my keyhole, hung ALL OF MY KEYS. They'd never left the building. In my mad rush out the door, I'd neglected to pocket them at all.

Happy New Year, Chris. Keep settin' that bar high.

Happy New Year.

Today's snow brought to you by the letter 'S' and the color 'white'

No words necessary - enjoy the pictures of snow around Seoul.
























Creative Commons License © Chris Backe - 2010

This post was originally published on my blog, Chris in South Korea. If you are reading this on another website and there is no linkback or credit given, you are reading an UNAUTHORIZED FEED.

 

THE LAST TEN YEARS

It is finally Sunday night (or Monday morning, actually), and I'm now alone. This long New Year's weekend chewed me up, passed me through its rotten booze-ulcered guts, and shat me out an a cold cold Sunday. I've been meaning to get reflecty about the last ten years but have been too engaged with parties, concerts, comedy sets, rivers of beer, and a grand quest to regain my coat, phone, and self-respect that ended oh-so-ironically. Yes, we were barely a day into the decade before my first grand redner was committed. More later.

Instead, like every other narcissistic navel-gazer on my friends' list, I'll take the opportunity to write about this last decade...

It's been a herky jerky ride in which I've seen my youth slip from me faster than the bodily fluids of a guy with typhoid. No longer am I that fresh faced kid out of art school, armed with a useless diploma, a smoking habit, and 'I'm gonna change the world' convictions, but I'm now a man pushing forty, with skid marks of grey above my ears and an ever-increasing web of crows feet around my cynical eyes.

I started "The Oughts" in Seattle, where I stuck around long enough to load up my Geo Metro and head to sunny Hell-A, despite the fact that I had just gotten together with a girl that I was nuts for and was regularly performing all over town. I regretted the second I pulled out of the city, but Hollywood's suck could not be resisted, and soon I was esconced in a big house in the Echo Park Hills with my fellow theater comrades, the boys from Piece of Meat Theatre.

2000-03 was spent in L.A., where I came face to face with that frightening visage of Failure, along with her bitch of a sister, Complete Fucking Misery. Despite a productive couple of years - we did a load of shows and cranked out scripts and waited for that day when Ben Stiller would be on speed dial - I LOATHED L.A. The place literally made my skin hurt. So in February of '03 I unceremoniously bailed. It was sudden and ugly - like the last helicopter from the American embasssy in Saigon; any semblance of dignity was puked up in front of everyone to behold, and soon I found myself back in green,wet Seattle. I remember spending my time eating discount Chinese food while watching footage of W's new Iraq War. Despite the fact that I was utterly broke, I magaged to sort out a place to live and pick up work, and spent a reasonably happy 9 months back in a place with clean air, good bars, and four distinct seasons.

In late 2003 I was coaxed into heading out to Chicago, to go on tour with a washed-up industrial band whose music I didn't even like. This proved to be a shitty idea, as my friend who invited me into the band lost his mind in a spiral of serious paranioa, convinced that government agents were trailing his every move. I did the tour - which pretty much sucked - since everyone hated our band and our singer was a douchebag, and at the end of it I was abandoned in Chicago by my increasingly unstable friend. I stuck out a very lonely and cold winter - spending much of my free time holed-up in the room I was subletting and reading travel books that I borrowed from the public library. I had always been passionate about travel and had done some to England, Ireland and Germany. I then felt stuck, and every line I read in those books just made me want to escape on a molecular level. There was a giant real world outside of the borders of America and I wanted to see it. So... I decided then and therefor that I would.

I was soon back in my hometown of Olympia - where I hadn't lived in over 13 years - suddenly shacked up with a girl that I had know when I was a teenager who came back into my orbit. This proved to be very short-lived, thank God, as we quickly found out that we in fact hated each other, but I am thankful to her for helping to extricate me out of a terrible situation. The fact that I replaced it with another terrible situation somehow didn't bother me at the time, or maybe I was just trying to tred water.

By that June of ('04), I was splitting time by staying at my friend Scott's place and spending time with my parents, whose health was already beginning to slipt. But after some years of being far away, it was great to reconnect with my parents. The time we spent together was just lovely, full of great, long meals and honest talk and laughter, real laughter. Nobody could laugh like my dad. He had a deep belly-laugh that could shake a mountain. After answering an ad on the internet, I found myself on a plane to Busan, Korea, supposedly for "just one year" before I headed to grad school. Well, five have passed and I'm still here.

Coming here was a revelation. I was immediately happy, in fact, I had regretted not doing it sooner, when I was younger. Not only did I have a decent-enough job with a free apartment, but within a week I had a set of friends AND a hot girlfriend. It was as if, when arriving at immigration, I was handed a big bag containing a BRAND NEW LIFE.

Since coming to Korea I've traveled to following countries: Japan (3 times), China(3 times), Vietnam, Laos (3 times), Cambodia (twice), Thailand (3 times), New Zealand, and Myanmar (very briefly but I got the fuckin' stamp). I've been back home five or six times and am heading to The Philippines in a couple of weeks. I've managed to save some money, despite spending a grip. I've met some great, great people. I've played music, done a lot of comedy (once getting arrested for it). Most importantly, I've done a lot of writing, especially travel writing, and have been published for real and all over the web and even won an award last year (hooray for me). This is what I'm most passionate about and where I'll be focusing me energies in the future. New Decade's resolution? Write, write, write! ...and don't go ever go to the casino again. Oh, yeah, don't get too fat, either.

Out of all of the craziness of "The Oughts" - and it has been fucking nuts - losing both my parents has been the most seismic event, one that I'm grappling to comprehend every day. I miss them both incredibly. There is a deep sadness that I carry with me everywhere, but this has given way to some peace and joy even. I sounds like a cliche but it is true, I assure you. When they're gone, the memories live on. Especially the good ones.

Ten years have passed in an exhilation, the speed of which does horrify me. Does this perception of time just speed up exponentially with age? If that's the case, it just reiterates that we don't have too much time down here, so we gotte enjoy our allotments the best we can. And that's what I will continue to do, whatever the hell comes my way. Given the state of the world, I'm not terribly optimistic, but I still won't let it get me down.

Korean Sociological Image #28: Cosmetic Surgery Advertisements Featuring Caucasians


I’ve never done any systematic study of advertisements for Korean cosmetic surgery clinics. But still, I’d wager that the overwhelming majority do not feature Caucasians.

And why should they? Like frequent commenter Whatsonthemenu pointed out in an email to me, she has never seen a tanning product advertisement in North America, for instance, that used a model of African descent, and most models look European or possibly Hispanic. Similarly, advertisements for hair straightening products, generally aimed at Black women, always use Black models (usually light-skinned ones), never Caucasian or Asian.

One reason for this is that correlation does not imply causation, and that tanned Caucasians happen to look darker does not necessarily mean that they want to look like Africans. Rather, the consensus view of tanning’s origins is that it developed as a status symbol, implying the wealth to take vacations to warmer climes.

In the case of hair-straighteners however, let me pass on Whatsonthemenu’s comment that “the desire for straight hair almost certainly originates in the desire to look closer to Caucasians,” and that this stems from back when house slaves, who were more likely to have Caucasian fathers or grandfathers, had higher status than field slaves. Which leads one to ask what Caucasians’ absence in advertisements implies?

Perhaps that when it comes to something as personal as dramatically altering one’s body and/or appearance in particular, there is a universal tendency to deny one might be imitating some aspect of another culture, race and/or ethnicity? After all, not to implies acknowledging a (perceived) flaw with your own, unlikely to go down well with other members of it.

Which is what makes this exception to the rules so interesting.

( Source above, below: unknown )

Whatsonthemenu noticed this advertisement for the BeautyMe Clinic on The Chosun Ilbo’s website last weekend, clicking on which took you to their homepage above. The Caucasian woman you see there is featured quite prominently throughout the site, and, judging by the the single page discussing double-eyelid surgery for men also featuring a Caucasian man, the choice of her race is not due to mere laziness or accident on the web designer’s part.

So why?

One obvious answer is that some Korean cosmetic surgery patients genuinely do want to look more Caucasian. But I think that they’d be a very small minority, even among those getting only those procedures that ultimately have that effect. Meanwhile, probably the vast majority don’t have that goal, either explicitly or subconsciously, and would justifiably take great offense at the suggestion.

However, clearly the intended customers would have no problems with associating cosmetic surgery in general and/or specific operations with Caucasians, nor find the choice of the model’s ethnicity strange. If they did, then presumably the proprietor of BeautyMe Clinic and others with similar advertisements (see here and here) would have chosen a Korean woman instead, as most do.

Yet they didn’t, and that those (positive or neutral) associations presumably existed prior to exposure to the advertisement puts paid to any notion that “Caucasianness” has had absolutely no role in Koreans’ modern ideals of beauty. And, in turn, to the notion that Koreans finding light skins and double-eyelids and so on attractive today are merely continuations of unaltered historical Korean tastes that existed prior to contact with Caucasians. Indeed, like blogger Michael Hurt wrote in 2005, it’s high time to acknowledge:

…the big, fat, white elephant in the room that is America and the West. You have to consider how having white skin here in Korea is not simply a matter of lightness anymore, of being a sign that one doesn’t have to work outside in a field. The relative pallor of one’s skin is now inevitably linked to notions of civility and class that are also reflected against the very real presence of white people, who are not surprisingly, positively associated with notions of civility and class.

But, and I stress, to do so is not to deny a role – and probably a much greater role – for historical Korean beauty ideals (and definitely not to claim that Koreans just “want to look White”). For a sense of the weight of the respective roles of each, and their possible mechanisms, please see the debate in previous posts.

(For all posts in the Korean Sociological Images series, see here)

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Posted in Korean Men's Body Images, Korean Sociological Images, Korean Women's Body Images, Readers' Emails Tagged: Caucasian, Caucasians, Cosmetic Surgery, 성형수술, Korean Cosmetic Surgery, Skin-whitening
  

 

Poll results for December 2009

Biggest Korean news story of 2009? (pick up to 3)

Fmr. President Roh committing suicide 69 (73%)
SMOE firing 100 teachers before arriving in Korea 20 (21%)
Naver / Anti-English Spectrum spat 16 (17%)
ATEK forming 2 (2%)
Swine flu infection / protection / quarantine 42 (44%)
'Haeundae' piracy - and irony 3 (3%)
Fmr. President Kim Dae-Jung's death 16 (17%)
Dokdo, round whatever 4 (4%)
Minerva 9 (9%)
The economy going kaput 15 (15%)

Total votes cast: 94.
Not scientific, poll based on people who wanted to respond, yadda yadda yadda.


Creative Commons License © Chris Backe - 2009

This post was originally published on my blog, Chris in South Korea. If you are reading this on another website and there is no linkback or credit given, you are reading an UNAUTHORIZED FEED.

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