Day 6, Freighter Trip, April 2011

Freighter Trip - Hanjin Miami

Busan to Oakland: 14-28 April 2011

Travel Journal

Day 6, April 19, Tuesday (1)

Beautiful weather: wide rolling swells, some wind from the port side, warmer, mostly sunny.

Crossing south of the Aleutian Islands, just about in the middle of them. We’re heading pretty much due east but tomorrow I’m guessing we should begin to go more southeast as we head for the Oregon coast.

Woke at 6:30. Lay in bed considering going down to breakfast and did at 8:00 but was disappointed at the breakfast menu: salami toast, which consisted of a slice of white bread, probably butter, a slice of lunch meat (presumed salami), a slice of melted cheese, and a fried egg atop. All fat, though I admit it was tasty. Every fatty food is. Went straight back up to bed, and though I’d drunk three cups of coffee, I fell into a doze and finally a sound sleep full of dreams, one about returning to a kibbutz where I’d done an ulpan and seeing some kerchiefs I’d left there and meeting the current inhabitant who was a black South African. Woke at 11:40 and rushed down to lunch: fish smothered in a tomato and green pepper sauce and a boiled potato smothered in butter. The captain was there and we chatted briefly, again about movies. I pointed out that the movie I’d lent him was about the coronation of England’s King George V while the movie he’d lent me began with the death of King George V.

The sun was shining and I needed to wake up from my long sleep, so out I went after lunch for my walk. The sea looked lovely with its swells and glistening water. Unfortunately, the deck was crowded with fire hoses and squirting water here and there. The men were checking all the fire hoses, but that didn’t stop me from completing my hour’s walk. What did slow me down from time to time was the beauty of the sea.

I was starving from not eating much of the fish lunch so I had a snack of nuts and fruit in my cabin, followed by my leg workout video. Then down to the gym at 3:20 to find that the weights I’d set the day before had been changed back to heavy. I changed them back. At first thought that I should change them back to how I found them but then realized that I’d be doing all the changing as if the other guy had a right to the weights and I didn’t, so I decided that I’d change the weights to suit me and the other guy could do the same. Back in my cabin, I did my stretching routine, which I hadn’t done in the morning.

After showering I decided to treat my feet: cut the toenails and completed the “sanding” routine, which I didn’t do as well as the women at the salon, but then I didn’t pay for it either. It was quite awkward sitting on the bathroom floor on my shower mat (a towel) and getting up and back down at different stages, but I managed.

At 5:35 I went up to the Bridge and chatted with Ramon. I asked if he knew about the Israeli shipping company ZIMM. He did and had sailed with it at one time. He said ZIMM sails with mounted guns on each side of the Bridge and soldiers and more guns below. I asked if the pirates ever messed with ZIMM and he replied that they didn’t. I wonder why all the ships don’t carry armed guards. I’ll ask someone. While we chatted he suddenly called out to see the dolphins. I couldn’t at first but saw only three white caps, but as they repeated and repeated in the same pattern, I realized they were dolphins but we were so high above the sea it was hard to recognize them.

Dinner was a delicious German cabbage and ground beef goulash with rice. WOW, it was good. The salad was exceptionally good too. After dinner I went back to the Bridge where I stayed a long time looking at the sea in the slowly fading light. Kai was there but was working and ignored me. That was OK because I was immensely enjoying the view of the sea. Sure wish the Bridge was my cabin.

Back to my room to journal and watch the movie the captain had borrowed from me, “The Prince and the Showgirl” with Marilyn Monroe and Lawrence Olivier.

Hungry. I had nuts and two pieces of fruit left, a kiwi and tangerine. I didn’t see any fruit on the mess side board and hope that isn’t the end of the fruit. The fruit is the only thing keeping me from going after more of that fat food we have so much of.

No clock change tonight - just a day change. Tomorrow we cross the International Date Line and repeat Tuesday. Isn’t it funny? Today is Tuesday and tomorrow is Tuesday. Two Tuesdays this week.

Day 5, Freighter Trip, April 2011

Freighter Trip - Hanjin Miami

Busan to Oakland: 14-28 April 2011

Travel Journal

Day 5, April 18, Monday

Fair weather: choppy sea, strong wind from the starboard side, mixed sunny and cloudy.

Woke at 11:25. Oh happy day! Skipped stretching to quickly dress and get down to the mess. No one was there so looking out the windows and pacing around the dining room, I drank the pitcher of coffee Johnson had saved for me. The captain and some others were there but I postponed my lunch until I’d had my coffee. I briefly returned to my cabin and when I re-entered the mess, everyone was gone. I began eating alone but the young Pole came in: no conversation there. Is he shy, just not interested, or moody?

I went up on the Bridge after lunch and talked to Ramon. We chatted: I told him I was born in Long Beach and that Ginna had seen the Spruce Goose fly - I believe that was its only flight. I wish I had the Internet to look up such facts. Do I remember it correctly? I remember Ginna telling us that her father had taken her to see the flight of the Spruce Goose, but was she a child or a young woman? Ramon had never heard of the Spruce Goose. He told me that once he called for a taxi to take him back to the pier and when the driver learned that he’d have to drive over the high bridge to Terminal Island, he refused to go. Ramon had to get another taxi. When I told him that Long Beach had once been run down but I thought it had recovered, Ramon told me that another taxi driver, about 60 years old, once told him a little of the history of Long Beach. He said it used to be booming but when the navy left and much of the port area was cleared out for the terminals, many jobs were lost and the city went into decline. Wouldn’t the terminals have brought more jobs? He mentioned a children’s park that had been torn down. Then I remembered the park in Long Beach with the roller coaster. I remember riding that roller coaster in 1966 when I was pregnant. What was the name of that park? Was it the one that went straight out over the water before sharply turning or was that the roller coaster in Venice Beach? What was the name of the Venice park? Oh, now I want those memories back. Steve will know those names. He has a good memory for those old facts and events. If he doesn’t, who will? Jonny and Kitty? Kitty, yes, I think.

I told Ramon I wanted to go for a walk and he warned me not to walk on the starboard side because of the strong head wind. He advised me to stay on the port side. And so I did. It was bloody, damn cold and windy there. When I peeked from the stern onto the starboard side, I quickly pulled back: That was wind. I lasted only half an hour outside though I wore layers. Back in my cabin I did my stretching exercises and dressed for cycling. First I went down to coffee and the birthday cake Kai made for his birthday. Yum.

Then I went to the gym and cycled 45 minutes to the Pallisers. Johnson gave me an extra towel for the gym. After my workout, I reset the weights for two items: the pull-down bar and the chest press bar. It was a lot of work, and if there is any crew member who uses the weights, he’ll be annoyed, but after asking around a bit, I determined that there probably isn’t any member who uses the weights. Now I’ll have two more back and chest exercises to do. Back in my cabin I showered and dressed for dinner. The captain had already eaten and left the DVD he’d borrowed and the one he lent me, The King’s Speech.

After dinner a short rest in my cabin and then a trip to the Bridge to chat with Kai. Back to the cabin for journaling and then the great pleasure of watching The King’s Speech on a big screen.

Set the clock forward one hour. Hour 4.

Day 4, Freighter Trip, April 2011

Freighter Trip - Hanjin Miami

Busan to Oakland: 14-28 April 2011

Travel Journal

Day 4, April 17, Sunday

Weather: choppy sea, strong wind from the starboard side, rain and fog.

I had a terrible sleepless night. I first tried to go to sleep to my best tango music on my iPod Shuffle and that made me happy feeling the music and imagining knowing how to gracefully and skillfully dance to it. When it seemed time to actually sleep, I tried to breath myself to sleep, to rock myself to sleep to the motion of the engine and sea, to will myself to sleep. The best I could do was to doze a few minutes from time to time. I kept checking the clock, sighing, breathing, changing from back to left side to right side and back to back. Ooof! Finally at 6:30 I took a valium and managed to sleep until 9:30. Stretched and down to coffee. I drank the entire pitcher of coffee standing in front of the window and pacing about the empty dining room.

Climbed up to the Bridge and talked to Elron, a talkative Filipino, older than the rest. He showed me on one chart where we were and then on a chart of the broader area where we were. He showed me the Long Beach Port map; I recognized Terminal Island and Wilmington. I asked about the location of the Queen Mary and Elron pointed it out. I asked about the Spruce Goose but didn’t catch his answer. As in the past, the Filipino accent is hard for me to understand. We identified Santa Barbara and the Santa Barbara Islands. We found Newport Beach on the chart and Catalina Island: I told him Gra’s story about missing Catalina and nearly going past the east end of San Clemente. Oh, that story brought back memories.

It being Sunday, we had steak for dinner. Steak topped with butter, vegetables, and fries. I ate the steak and veggies. I had lunch with the captain who talked about old movies and offered to lend me the King’s Speech, a recent movie. Delighted. The young Pole and an older German officer whom I haven’t met, were at the other table, but they didn’t join the conversation. They never do. Apparently this is not a chatty crew. Back to my cabin after lunch to work on this journal. It was rainy and windy and cold. I worked out with weights (such as they were) and did 50 minutes on the bicycle to an episode of the Pallisers on my computer. Finally back to the Pallisers after a long break.

Sunday night dinner is cold cuts. The captain was already at his place and I didn’t quite know how to manage the cold cuts, so I took a salad, two pieces of pumpernickel and several slices of fat-filled salami. Oh, and a dill pickle. Leave it up to the Germans to have real dill pickles. I really missed them in Korea where we have only sweet pickles. After dinner I went to a birthday party for one of the crew - 29 years old. He hosted the party with food, wine, beer, and hard alcohol. I sat next to Elron and drank two glasses of wine. Elron talked and talked. Because the boys were singing karaoke one after another, it was hard to hear it all but I enjoyed talking to him. The captain entered, sat alone at the bar, drank a soft drink, and left. Elron is 51. The boys sat side by side along the sofa that extended the length of the room and partially wrapped around the two walls on either side. I thought it looked funny them being all in a row. After my second wine I bid everyone goodnight and thanked the birthday boy and wished him a happy birthday. I would have like to stay and drink with the guys, but the captain is so straight-laced that I felt compelled to behave myself.

Back in my cabin for a short time and then up to the Bridge for a visit with Kai. He tried to explain many things to me, some beyond my comprehension or his English. I was curious about why they use miles instead of kilometers. I was never clear on the answer, but I think it’s because 60 degrees of the globe equals one mile, so it’s convenient. Or it’s historical: the person who made the first precise clock was British. But what has that to do with degrees of the globe, unless degrees of the globe match the minutes of an hour. Kai said there was a wonderful book that explained it all for the layman, but he didn’t know if there was a copy of the book on board. He also explained the difference between the plotted course and actual course and how the American military’s development of GPS changed navigation drastically. He told a little about how it was when seamen navigated by the position of the sun and stars and information from passing vessels. He told about the great circle and about 99 somethings. It was all interesting if confusing. I think Leo could have explained it so I could understand. Of course his knowledge is from a different perspective (the sky) but it must come down to the same science.

After my navigation lesson, I returned to my cabin and watched “The Big Lebowski” on my computer and drank the second half of my Beringer Cellars Cab.

Taking no chances on sleep, I took a valium at midnight and settled in to sleep, happy in the knowledge that I would, indeed, sleep.

Set the clock forward one hour. Hour 3.

Day 3, Freighter Trip, April 2011

Freighter Trip - Hanjin Miami

Busan to Oakland: 14-28 April 2011

Travel Journal

Day 3, April 16, Saturday

Our course was not what I had imagined looking at a map. I guessed we’d go south from Busan, around the southern tip of Japan, and then north to about the 40th parallel and east across to California. Totally wrong guess. We would head northeast from Busan and turn east through the straight between the Japanese Hokkaido and the main island. What a surprise! From there we continue to sail northeast to south of the Aleutian Islands. On the voyage in the opposite direction, they go north of the Aleutian Islands.

I wanted to see Japan so I set the alarm for 6:20. I was very sleepy. Peeked out the window - no land. Lay back down. Waited a while. Peeked again. No land. Back to bed. I checked my Korean cell phone and got a strange message so I thought it was catching a foreign signal. Maybe we were in sight of land but I couldn’t see it from my cabin. I’d better go up to the Bridge. But I was so sleepy and it looked so cold and foggy outside. OK! Forget Japan. Back to bed.

Woke at 10:28: missed my appointment with the Safety Officer again. Rushed down for coffee. Back to my room until lunch. I told the captain about the non-functioning DVD player. He asked if Johnson he knew how to reset the menu from German to English but he didn’t know, so the captain came to me after lunch and found that the DVD player is broken. He told me he’d take care of it later.

At 2:00 I went out for my hour’s walk on the upper deck. I did better this time, that is, I walked faster and handled the hurdles faster and more proficiently. It was cold and foggy - zero visibility. Though we were still in the straight, I still couldn’t see any land. No Japan this trip. After walking, I stretched, showered, and began my trip journal. Went for coffee and biscuits at 3:30 and then went up on the Bridge for a while and chatted with Ramon who was on duty there. Back to my cabin until 5:30 dinner with the second officer, Kai, and learned a little more about his life. He kindly told me I could go up to the Bridge any time, whether or not he was there. Johnson came to my room to fix the heat and with some difficulty he increased the heat in the vent away from the bed and near the windows. Then the captain came and installed a new DVD player. I lent him “The Prince and the Showgirl” with Marilyn Monroe and Lawrence Olivier. Then I watched Carlos Saura’s “Tango” and drank half a bottle of Beringer Cellars Cab from the Duty Free shop. Pleasant evening but very tired.

Set the clock forward one hour. Hour 2.

Day 2, Freighter Trip, April 2011

Freighter Trip - Hanjin Miami

Busan to Oakland: 14-28 April 2011

Travel Journal

Day 2, April 15, Friday

I woke as usual during the night at about 4:30, took a valium, and slept lightly until 8:30. After relaxing for a while, I did my stretching routine on my new bed; it suited the routine well, especially the wall for my lumbar disc adjustment. After showering I went to the mess about 10:40 for coffee and chatted with Johnson. No one else was there. Coffee is served at 10:00 but I don’t think the officers go there for it. The ordinary seamen do take regular breaks at 10:00 and 3:00 for 20 minutes. Johnson prepared a pitcher of coffee and a tin of biscuits for me and told me they’d always be there for me at break time, but I could get coffee any time and raid the refrigerator if I was hungry.

I was supposed to meet with the Safety Officer at 10:20 but I missed the appointment so it was postponed to the next day.

I wanted to go outside but the men were washing down the landings and I couldn’t get the door open because of the wind. I gave up and remained in my cabin until lunch at 11:30 - a bit early for me - because Johnson had told me that’s when the captain would eat. Quick lunch and off went the captain who had talked through lunch telling me various things about life at sea and his family. He has often brought his family on trips. When they were young, his children didn’t always appreciate such adventures but now that they’re older, they realize what a great opportunity it was. He’s maybe in his late fifties.

After lunch I walked on the upper deck for one hour. The upper deck is below decks A through G and most of the way it is under the containers. Decks A through G and the Bridge are in a structure set about a fourth of the length of the ship from the stern. The containers are stacked behind and in front of the structure as many as six containers high. In front of my windows they are only stacked five high. I thought I could walk around and around the ship on the upper deck, but I can’t. There’s no way through to the other side at the bow. There is a narrow passage across the stern. At the mid point of that passage is a set of four hurdles that I must step over. At first I held on the rail to step over them but then decided to use them for extra training: Without holding onto anything I go over two three, over two three, etc. At first it was hard because the steps have to be long strides to make it in three, but after some practice I could do it without losing my balance. For one hour the routine is up to the bow on the port side, turn and back to the stern, cross the stern with the hurdles, up to the bow on the starboard side and back to the stern, cross the stern, and start again. Back and forth for one hour. I don’t look a lot at the sea because I have to keep my eye on the deck to avoid water and slipping and to keep an eye on which rails are available in case I trip or slip. I don’t know yet how many ups and backs I make in an hour. After walking I did my ten-minute leg workout with a video and then went to the gym for a weight workout. Oh, wretched gym. Clearly the regular captain, Peter Aurbach, cares much more for his two fancy bars than the gym. It is in total disrepair. There’s an exercise bicycle that can’t be adjusted for tension because it’s broken. The single weight machine is supposed to be able to be used for many positions but most of it is also broken and missing parts. There are two dumbbells but they’re not a pair. The bars are different sizes and styles and one of them has heavy weights stuck on it. The other one works OK, but I can’t use two at a time. There are two barbells and I put light weights on one of them so I could use it. Thus, I can do only five exercises. If I play around switching the weights I may be able to add a couple more. So frustrating. I thought I’d have a full gym. As I understand it, each ship is outrigged according to the needs of the crew and the tastes of the captain. Captain Aurbach is a party boy and he fitted the ship with two extraordinary bars and a broken down gym. Never mind: I can make do. I will continue to exercise every day. I must be prepared for the volunteer ride of the Wine Country Century shortly after I arrive in Santa Rosa. And I must fight the fattening food. I can’t skip meals like the captain and his first officer but I instructed Johnson to always give me small portions.

At dinner there was only the first officer, Kai Kulle, who sits across from the captain’s place. At first he didn’t speak but then loosened up and told me about his family. He has a two-year-old daughter and is from Hamburg but now lives north of there.

After dinner I stood on the Bridge until dark and then went to my cabin. The DVD player didn’t work, so I spent the evening studying Spanish with the Rosetta Stone program. Now I’ve finished level 2, lesson 4. Went to bed about 11.

Set the clock forward one hour. Hour 1.

Day 1, Freighter Trip April 2011

Freighter Trip - Hanjin Miami

Busan to Oakland: 14-28 April 2011

Travel Journal

Day 1, April 14, Thursday

I woke early at the motel in Dunsan to make the final preparations for my voyage. In addition to my backpack I had my Friedman shopping bag and a bag I’d bought the day before at E-Mart, my plan to carry only my backpack having failed. The Friedman bag held food: spelt cereal, two bags of almonds, a bag of seeds, one small bottle of soy milk, and a bag of “bbang-twi-gi.” The new bag carried my toiletry bag, a set of dirty underwear, a dirty shirt, and an extra jacket. The backpack had my computer and Kindle.

No breakfast or coffee. I had hoped to buy a coffee on the way to Obelisk but then realized that both my hands were full and I couldn’t carry coffee, so I had to hope for a coffee at the first rest stop on the way to Busan.

I arrived at the Obelisk at 8:50 and saw no little blue truck waiting outside. Certainly, the meeting time was 9:00 but as I knew those drivers, they always arrive early. The driver had been changed the day before. Ken’s Mr. Kim decided he didn’t want the job if he couldn’t depart until 9:00, and he passed the job on to another driver whose name and phone number I didn’t have: a slightly stressful state of affairs. I trusted the system but felt a twinge of doubt. Not seeing a little blue truck gave me a bigger twinge of doubt. Though it was still before nine o’clock I went down the garage ramp to the Super’s office. There was the truck with the driver standing in the bed of the truck among my bags. I introduced myself in Korean and he replied in English that everything was packed except the trunk, which was still on the third floor in front of my apartment. He and the Super then went and brought the trunk and loaded it. They took my two bags and stowed them on the truck bed. At that moment I was a bit dazed and I forgot that my breakfast was in one of those bags. The driver took a short while to tie and cover the bags. I thanked and said goodbye to the Super. The driver and I got in and off we went just after nine o’clock. Oh such efficiency!

That’s Korea’s real strength: the efficiency of workers’ services. Korea considers its strength is its technology, and indeed their technology is formidable, but they’re just copying and producing. Their high-tech workers are over-worked and stressed and controlled from above. Innovation is neither rewarded nor encouraged. In fact, it’s suppressed in the same way free speech was suppressed in the Soviet time: self-censorship through intimidation.

Back to the drive to Busan. The driver spoke a little English and we exchanged pleasantries before lapsing into silence. I read from my Kindle; the driver drove. The first rest stop was after a little more than an hour. I headed for the head and then got a coffee from a Cafe Bene stand. The night before I had realized I should have some plastic house slippers for the ship and thought my only opportunity would be on the way walking to Obelisk, but there had been no opportunity. I thought of it at the rest stop and sure enough, one of the stands had some. They sold just one type, which at first I thought wasn’t suitable, but they were: rubber, thick, soft soles and they came in sizes. My driver was standing by the truck doing some exercises. He was about my age, and I think the long drive was hard on his body. We set off and had one more stop two hours later, just a toilet break.

We arrived in Busan somewhere near the New Port, which I judged to be southeast of Busan. The driver was lost and kept calling the Port Agent Mr. Shin. The driver was frustrated and claimed that he’d been given the wrong address. Then Mr. Shin phoned to say to stop by the side of the road where we were. We stopped. He came to us, asked for my passport, and drove off leaving us there. Shortly, he phoned to ask if I had my Alien Registration Card (ARC) and he told me to be sure to give it to him. As soon as he’d gone off with my passport, I had realized that I should have also given him my ARC. We waited by the roadside near the port. I entertained myself watching a man work on the longbed of his truck. After pulling on some things and adjusting some things, he emptied his entire toolbox on the ground next to the truck and began to clean each piece and arrange it in the toolbox. By the time he’d finished (about half an hour), Mr. Shin had returned and signaled us to follow him. We drove to the Hanjin New Port port entrance. We went inside to sign in and I gave him my ARC. I walked through an inside entrance while Mr. Shin and my driver drove through. I then got into Mr. Shin’s car. I asked him if I needed any more won and he replied that I didn’t, so I added my last 30,000 won to the driver’s fee. The lucky guy got a 50,000 won tip, which pleased me because I liked him. We drove along a quay and stopped beside a ship at a sort of stairs/ladder, which I failed to immediately recognize as the gangplank. I said, “Is this my ship” and he said, “Yes, get out.” He told me to get on board. I said, “Now?” and he said, “Yes.” Oh, what a surprise! I thought we’d go to his office and pass through formalities and wait hours. I started to move to the stairs, and the driver asked about his payment. We all laughed at the thought of me escaping to sea and stiffing him. I handed him his envelope and said goodbye to him and Mr. Shin, who assured me the crew would handle my baggage and bring it to my cabin.

With some trepidation, I began to climb the gangplank, which wobbled more and more as I climbed. Being the self-conscious jock that I am, I climbed smoothly, quickly, and without stopping so I could show them how fit this old gal was. At the top, I turned to waive to my driver and Mr. Shin. And that was my farewell to Korea. How odd that the Koreans that closed my life in Korea were strangers.

I turned back to the ship and met Sergei who showed me first to a workers’ room where I used a special soap to wash off the grease on the hand that had held the rail of the gangplank. We took an elevator to F deck where I found my cabin, “Super Cargo” - that’s me. I had turned to look around and saw that my cabin was bigger than my Dunsan apartment: entrance hall with a mirror and big wardrobe; double bed; bedside table; long desk with a chair and drawers, multiple cabinets, and a refrigerator in a cabinet; two easy chairs; a big coffee table; a long sofa with a side table and lamp; and an L-shaped cabinet coffee-table-height with a huge TV and DVD player and cupboards underneath. The crowning glory: four huge portholes, two on each outside wall. WOW! Nothing obstructing the view. I was so happy.

Then the baggage arrived. They put everything in and told a German officer there was one more big bag. Oh, my bike. I told them it was a bike and the German officer told them to put it in his storage. I was pleased not to have it in the room, though I did have the trunk. If they’d take the two easy chairs out, I’d like to put the trunk in their place and have use of it but I won’t be a pest.

The Filipino steward, Johnson, then showed me around the ship. On the Bridge I met Ramon, the Safety Officer. I saw a few other workers as we walked around. Somewhere - I think the crew’s recreation room - I met Pavel, a young Pole or Russian who repeated his name loudly and grumbled something when I didn’t catch his name. I thought, “Oh, a temperamental young Slav.” In the kitchen I met the cook, whose name I didn’t catch, a friendly Filipino. Johnson made a point of showing me the two bars that Captain Aurbach created. The first was the officers’ recreation room. It is decorated all around with netting, shells, and pictures of mermaids on a painted sea background. There is a miniature casino and lots of alcohol bottles on display. The other bar can be opened for an outdoor grill.

Johnson escorted me back to my room and suggested I stay there or nearby until dinner because the crew was very busy. He brought me a cup of coffee while I was talking on the phone to Mitzi. By then it was after 3:00 PM and I hadn’t had breakfast or lunch so I ate my spelt cereal with seeds and soy mild. I looked out the window at the container-loading operations.

Johnson told me dinner was at 5:30 and showed me my seat, which was next to the captain. When I arrived the captain was already eating cold cuts and crackers with butter. Johnson served me a huge plate of food. The captain explained that he can’t eat three big meals a day because he tends to gain weight. We were the only two in the officers’ mess. My meal was pieces of pork smothered in a cheese sauce and melted cheese plus a baked potato filled with ground beef and melted cheese. (All very kosher.) Good grief! What will I weigh when I arrive in California two weeks later? I helped myself to a salad at a buffet table that also contained cold cuts and many plates of cheeses.

The captain told me a few things, including that we’d depart at 9:00 PM (previously it had been 8:00) and that I was welcome on the Bridge during departure. Then he dashed off. I went back to my cabin to watch the loading, and I walked from one landing to another or lay in my cabin making farewell phone calls. I went out on the outside landings of F deck and G deck on both sides of the ship for better views. It was exciting to watch, especially to see how they managed to stack those huge, heavy containers so precisely. At first the work of the loaders (longshoremen?) thrilled me, but I suppose doing it eight hours a day five days a week would become tedious. I went up to the landing outside the Bridge and stood behind glass, which was out of the wind and warmer. There I got a call from Heejune, my last call. Maybe that was my real farewell to Korea, not the waive to the two strangers on the guay.

Departure was postponed again to 11:00. From the outside landing, I watched the quay where trucks lined up to release their containers: one container per truck. A tedious process. I counted the trucks and thought, “Oh, after the sixth truck we’ll depart.” But then more trucks arrived. And on and on until I decided I didn’t need to see the last container being loaded and returned to the cabin to lie down and wait until I felt us pull away from the quay.

I went up to the Bridge, which was labelled “Wheel House,” and the off-putting sign on the door dissuaded me from entering. It was cold and late and I was very tired. I returned to my cabin, but then thought I should see us departing the port. I went out on the F and G decks landings and watched for a while, but it was cold and I was tired. I decided I really didn’t need to see us clear the port. Back to the cabin and bed. I could feel the rumbling of the engine or was it the bumping over the calm sea’s ripples? Or both?

No one remembers

I just read about Anwar Sadat's interview with Walter Cronkite. When Sadat said he would go anywhere to make peace happen in the Middle East, Cronkite pushed him: Would he go to Israel if invited? After he answered Yes a new direction in history started on its way with the result that he did visit Israel and did make a peace treaty.

When I read that my eyes teared and I realized that I had no one to tell the experience to, no one who would understand. Then I remembered something Miss Marple, Agatha Christy's character, said about what was so sad about growing old. She said no one remembered. She was the last remaining of the people from her youth. That scene has haunted me; it makes me feel so lonely. Though many people do remember the Cronkite-Sadat interview and the subsequent events, there is no one in my present society who does. The memory may bring tears to my eyes and a cascade of memories of the subsequent events, but I can't share those remembrances, nor the ideas that swirl around the topic.

-Korea, 22 July 2009

I'm Back

After a hiatus of just over three years, I'm back on the Blog.

Summary
2004-2007: Santa Rosa, Beth Ami Executive Director
June 2007-June 2008: Korea, Samsung HRDC Teacher
June 2008: Applied successfully to Peace Corps; invited to join China group in June 2009
June 2008-June 2009: Just hanging out in California waiting for the Peace Corps

June, July, August, September: house sat for various friends: Leo, Ruth & Brian Wilson, Winnie, the Rafuls.
October: substituted for Esther as manager and all-around laborer at Brooktrails Lodge in Willits, Mendocino County, living in motel attached to Lodge and using Leo's Blazer.
November to present: Living at the Lodge, working for Esther Fridays and weekends as needed. Also working for Robbie at his Osteopath clinic. Making enough to eat and put gas in Leo's car.

Great experience: Willits and Mendocino County

Two and a half year hiatus.
It's been so long and I've moved back to the States and I didn't even have a record of my blog site. I found it at John's this week. Maybe - if I find the time - I'll start up again. Just posting now so they don't kick me off my site. Hang in there.

Really Long Hiatus

I still haven't decided what to do with my blog. A quick update for now. I took and failed the Foreign Service exam. My only disappointment my for my ego. I really didn't want to work for George Bush and can't imagine how I would have pulled it off. In the end, I only wanted to pass so I could feel proud of myself for succeeding where so many others failed.

On to my next brilliant scheme. After much Internet job searching and profession researching, I chose a new profession: Nursing. Yes, I'll attempt to become an RN. Because I have no science background, it will take me three and a half years instead of two. Before entering the program, I have to take biology, chemistry, anatomy, physiology, and microbiology. And I have to self-study algebra to pass an exam at some point. I'll begin in January 2004. If I can manage the science courses in the first semester, I'll go on with my plan. If I cannot, it will be "back to the drawing board."

In the meantime, I've had three wonderful weeks in the States. First, a week's business trip and a Korean guy from another team who was just tagging along with us. We visited IBM's research journals' publication office in Yorktown Heights, NY, IEEE publications in Piscataway, NJ, ISI to let them know we really want to keep on their citation index, and IEEE-CS in Los Alimitos, CA. The trip was a break for me and my supervisor, Young, did it for me. She concatenated the business trip with my vacation and even told me that if I could find something for us to do on the west coast, we could include that leg of my journey in our business trip. I came up with IEEE-CS plus visits to USC and UCLA to try to drum up some business. Our visits to the publication offices were successful, but the university visits were a bust. We didn't care; they were just an excuse.

After I parted with the Koreans, I began my vacation with my whirlwind push through California visiting friends and family. The family visit went much better than I'd expected. Everyone behaved well. Lauren's house is marvelous and beautifully decorated. The pool and fountain are gorgeous. I only wonder if they'll maintain it all. That means will Ernie maintain it because Lauren certainly won't. Louise was in a continuous crisis - air conditioning system needed replacing and Kristi and her girls moved in. No money. Everything bad for her. I had to lend her more money and that's the money I intend to go to school on. If she fails to sell her house and repay me, there will be no going back to school and maybe no going back to the US.

After the visits, I attended my 40th high school reunion. Some disappointments but overall it was exciting to see those old classmates. Dave was not there but we met on Monday. Marv Bain laid him off after 18 years. I was so upset but Dave said it was OK and he was glad to be rid of the job. He's not in a desperate situation yet.

Then I came back to Korea a week and a half ago. Tango last night - first time in a couple of months. I was considering giving it up, but now no way.

Long Hiatus

These days I haven't had time to write and I have been reconsidering my use of blogging. I'd like to go ahead with my blog but I haven't decided what I'll use it for. Now I don't have time to deal with it. On 12 April I'll take the US Foreign Service written exam. Crazy. I'm almost 58. At the last exam 34,000 people registered and 4000 passed. I don't know how many actually took the exam. Of the 4000 who passed the written exam, about 500 were hired. Were any of those 500 nearly 60. Probably not. So why am I taking the exam? I want to pass it. I haven't seriously studied for it. I dabbled until last weekend - three weeks from the test date - when I began to study in earnest. Well Saturday I studied not at all but Sunday I did study for several hours. Yesterday I didn't study at all - well 20 minutes before sleeping. Tonight probably I won't study and again tomorrow I have some social appointments. But after that, I will study the remaining nine days. I want to pass.

After the exam, I will catch up with my email correspondence and begin my blogging for whatever forum I decide or it evolves into.

See you in a couple of weeks, Blogger.

Meaning of life.

Quote from a movie review by A. O. Scott of the movie "Adaptation": At one point in "The Orchid Thief," Ms. Orlean asks a park ranger named Tony why he thinks people find orchids so seductive. His answer matches both the nonchalance and the insight of this remarkable, impossible film: "Oh, mystery, beauty, unknowability, I suppose. Besides, I think the real reason is that life has no meaning. I mean, no obvious meaning. You wake up, you go to work, you do stuff. I think everybody's always looking for something a little unusual that can preoccupy them and help pass the time."

The park ranger's attitude matches mine exactly. People who don't believe in god and don't feel the necessity of finding some higher meaning in life have to find some reason to live. Yes, we know our strongest instinct is to survive but we also have intelligence to analyze that instinct and say that it's not worthwhile. If we feel it's not worthwhile yet don't want to kill ourselves or live in a depressed state, we have to find something to live for. I've found that small pleasures and small passions are enough. Of course, great pleasures and grand passions are better but certainly more rare. At 57, I am content to pursue the small pleasures and passions while remaining open and on the lookout for the great ones.

The writer Branden McGill had a philosophy of life that also suited me; it's a little more idealistic than the park ranger's. He said he wanted to take as much enjoyment out of life as possible while giving back more than he took. It's a good philosophy, but what's the rationale behind it if there is no god and no higher meaning? Two answers: one, we have been culturally or genetically conditioned to feel good when we do good, and two, if we do good, our environment is likely to be better and we will benefit from it.

With these two philosophies, I live with enough satisfaction and I feel proud of myself that I'm strong enough to not need the crutches of religion or other belief's that give meaning to existence to support me. What is the source of my satisfaction in my strength? I haven't thought that one out, but it's a characterisctic that has broadened in scope in recent years, most notably in Korea, my need to try to keep up with twenty-something men, to overcome my fears and limitations in physical activities like hiking and cycling. Pride in strength? Hmmmm. Think on it.

Narcissism

During all the five years I've lived in Korea, I've thought that Koreans are the most narcissistic people I've ever encountered. My first year here I discussed it with Ron Aizen and he agreed and told of seeing a young man in a men's room standing in front of the mirror trying on poses with a couple of props - a cigarette and a hat. When Ron entered the men's room, the fellow was at it and when Ron left the fellow was still at it. The fellow didn't appear in the least embarrassed at having Ron see him. I told how women stand in front of mirrors just looking and gazing and inspecting every detail of their faces - also unperturbed at having someone else see them. I thought this facial self-absorption was a Korean characteristic and that though Americans may be curious about their faces and peer into the mirror in private, they would be embarrassed to be caught at it. I would have sworn this to be the American cultural attitude. Until I recently - should I say finally since I'm many years behind the fashion - I began watching Ally McBeal. The characters in that show stand in front of the mirror gazing and peering and posing in an office toilet - unisex toilet. At least the characters stop when someone enters but they don't appear embarrassed. Well,... the characters on that show are eccentric so that may account for the posing. I think my original assessment of this mirror phenomenon was accurate: Americans do not pose in front of mirrors in public. Koreans do.

Samuel Pepys, the blogger.

Imagine if Samuel Pepys lived in these times. His employer would never get him away from his blog. He would blog day and night. I recently read a review of a biography of Pepys by Claire Tomalin who also wrote a biography of Jane Austin. I would like to read both biographies. What interested me most in that review was the statement that Pepys was such an unashamed diarist. He found himself always a subject of great interest to himself. Though I've kept jouranls on and off all my life, I've always been a little embarrassed by it: Writing just for the sake of writing about yourself seems so self-centered. Celebrities and geniuses have the excuse that the public is interested in whatever they have to say, but what do ordinary joes have for an excuse. I used to think that sociologists mights like to collect journals of ordinary people and use them for their analyses, but my friend and frequent bubble burster Jonny said they have too much material and are not interested.

Then what's the purpose? So I can reread my journals when I'm old and use them to reconsider my life? Maybe, but I bet I won't reread them; I'll no longer be interested in my past. Very old people seem to get deeply interested in the minutia of their current lives.

My friend Shirley Windward made good use of her lifetime of journaling. After a stroke and extensive memory loss, she read her journals and regained her memory through them. That was impressive.

I am still a bit ashamed at writing about myself, but I admit I like it. As I am the primary reference point of my existence - the world will stop existing for me when I die - I guess I'm pretty important to my life.

I wonder what made Pepys so unashamedly self-centered. The intensity of his interest in his life may be what makes his diaries so interesting even today to people everywhere. I put his biography on my shopping list for my visit to the States next summer. I doubt Kyobo Bookstore will stock it.

Friday evening, quitting time. Working Saturday tomorrow. How I hate it. Having to go home or out on Friday night knowing you have to get home early because tomorrow is a working day.

Tonight, I think I'll cook. I'll cook for the first time since I returned to Korea nearly 12 months ago. I'll boil Dececca pasta which I found at Carrefour and put naste Prego sauce on it. I must go to the TGIF tonight to say goodbye to Yassine who will be returning to school in France soon.

The American soldiers kill Korean middle school girls scandal.

I finally got more information on this case and I at least understand what happened. During all these weeks of commotion in the country over it, I couldn't understand how the girls could let the vehicle run them over. Now I know. I'd been haranguing Chang about it for a couple of weeks, but he didn't have much to say because he didn't know the facts. Finally, he read up on it and reported to me.

The story. A convoy of American vehicles were returning from three days of military exercises. A jeep with the commander was leading the convoy of armored vehicles. Because the view of the driver of these vehicles is obstructed, a navigator sits above somewhere and watches. Because of the great noise inside the vehicle, the navigator communicates to the driver through a communication system (a walkie-talkie?). No one has been able to describe the space inside the armored vehicle, but the navigator must be fairly close to the driver. One piece of information that Chang dug up for me was that if the navigator cannot use the communication system and there's an emergency, he must kick the driver. That suggests he's above and at least his feet and within reach of the driver.

The convoy is driving along a narrow public country road. Someone had told the commander that the road was too narrow for two-way traffic of big military vehicles, but it was the shortest route back to the base so the commander chose to use it. Two middle school Korean girls were walking along the road to a birthday party at a friend's. There was no shoulder on the right side of the road and there was a drop off directly from the road. I don't know how deep the drop off was. The lead jeep and two armored vehicles passed the girls and there was another army vehicle coming from the opposite direction. The driver of the third armored vehicle saw the oncoming vehicle and moved to the right side. His view being obstructed, he didn't see the girls. The navigator claims he saw the girls and tried to warn the driver through the communication system but the system didn't work and they ran over the girls, crushing them to death. The communication system of that vehicle had been malfunctioning on and off for some time and they had reported it to the repair people but the repair people hadn't gotten around to repairing it. They claimed that the system was working during the exercises.

The soldiers had gotten about five hours sleep during the previous three days; it was morning; they were on their way home.

Open question: If the navigator saw the girls and failed to communicate by the system, why didn't he kick the hell out of the driver to get his attention?

The driver and navigator were tried in a U.S. military court for negligent homicide. Both were found innocent. The judges said the prosecution failed to prove beyond reasonable doubt that they were negligent.

If those two individuals weren't negligent, who was? Somebody was negligent because such an accident should not happen. Who is ultimately responsible for the equipment being in bad repair? Was the commander responsible for taking the narrow road? Was the commander responsible for not stopping the convoy on a narrow road with no shoulder when he passed the two girls? Who the hell is responsible? Someone is. Someone should be charged with responsibility.

I suspect the navigator was lying. I suspect he was tired and on the way home and not paying attention. I think, given the U.S. system of proof beyond doubt, the verdict was just. How could the prosecution prove the navigator was lying? I also think the soldiers would not have gotten a fair trial by a Korean court with a jury. The people would have convicted them from anger and revenge emotions. Maybe a judge would have been objective, but how? If he let them go, the people would accuse him of toadying to the Americans.

The furor this has caused in Korea is about two things: general anti-American sentiment and the terms of SOFA. The Americans insist on having jurisdiction over soldiers who commit crimes in Korea. The biggest sticking point is that the U.S. has more jurisdiction in Korea than in Japan. That indicates that Japan is a stronger negotiating partner than Korea, and that understandably angers the Koreans. Though the treaty was renegotiated just a year or so ago, it is still unsatisfactory to most Koreans. Now since the innocent verdict on the two soldiers, there's demonstrations all over the country. I wish I could know more about how soldiers are disciplined for crimes in Korea. I have a feeling that they get away with too much. Maybe the military is lenient on them to compensate them for being stationed in a foreign country. But I think that soldiers stationed in a foreign country should be held to much stricter behavior. They are representing their country and they should be models of that country. I'd like to hear the American military side of the argument. The facts as I know them look pretty bad for the U.S.

Ain't life grand?

Being terrified all year about using up my scant vacation days - 12 days at ETRI as opposed to 4 months at KAIST - I find myself in the first week of December with four days left. Those four days plus Korea's election day plus Christmas and New Year's holidays give me seven holidays in five weeks. WOW! I had originally planned to use those days for cycling alone or with Chang or with Fable, but I waited too long: no warmish days in the next two weeks' forecast. All I ask is 8 degrees Celsius or above, but it seems it's not going to happen. So what's the next best thing to cycling? Sleeping, of course. I've arranged my days so I'll have one vacation day to sleep in after a milonga (tango dancing event) the night before; one vacation day to go to the dentist (It's been a year and a half since my last cleaning.), but that will also be a sleeping in day and I'll try to set up a drinking or romancing appointment for the night before; one sleeping in vacation day on the day I go to Seoul for three evenings of tango lessons from Chan and Eugenia, the American couple (Korean-American and Ukrainian-American) who gave us two weeks of lessons last winter; and one sleeping in vacation day after the three nights of lessons. In addition, election day will be a sleeping in day after a milonga, and the two holidays, Xmas and New Year's, will just be sleeping in days. Yes, life is grand.

Last Saturday I had a murderous cycling ride. It being a working Saturday, Chang and I didn't get started until about 2. Driving to Kyejok Mountain, we began cycling at 2:30. Chang proposed to go over the mountain to the other side where we could see Daecheong Lake because that was a course I had never taken. He warned me that it was a hard course, about 3 1/2 hours offroad and steep, and asked if I was fit. Yes, I said. Though I had only worked out once that week, I felt generally fit and strong. I made two mistakes: one, I didn't ask if it was a Chang 3 1/2 hours or a Juli 3 1/2 hours and two, I assumed on that route we could see the lake and didn't think about descending the other side of the mountain and riding along the lake. It was a Chang 3 hours and we did indeed descend the mountain on the other side and ride along the lake. The only mitigating factor was that the ride on the other side of the mountain was mostly paved country road. OH, I was so lucky, another mitigating factor: Workers were doing maintenance on the offroad going up the front side of the mountain and parts of it were smoothed out and patted down so there was less loose dirt and gravel in those sections. I got up the steep first three kilometers better than I had on the previous two rides, and I was feeling quite proud of myself. What made the difference? My new wider rear tire that I'd installed all by myself? Increased fitness and strength? Improved hill-climbing skill? I don't know, but I was proud. Then we toodled along up and down around the mountain a while before descending. Well, it wasn't exactly toodling, because Chang asked if we could speed up because it was getting late and we needed to get down and come up and go down again before dark, which he guessed would be at 6. That put pressure on me because I just do the best I can and I can't speed up more than the best I can. Chang, a fit twenty something man, knows that I, a late fifty something woman, can only do what she can do. I tried to speed up but I basically kept my pace. Down the mountain - pleasant. Along the lake shore - lovely, beautiful, wonderful, but I was getting tired and cold. Starting up the mountain through some very small villages - still interesting but I was realizing I was really tired and colder. Darkness came before 5:30. Colder. More tired. Halfway up the mountain, Chang started asking if I could make it. I replied what choice did I have. He suggested I could wait somewhere while he got the car and drove around the mountain which would take much longer than cycling over the mountain. No I would freeze waiting in the cold and there were no public places along the way. I had to keep going. He rode ahead at his pace and waited for me from time to time. One point in my favor: He asked if I was afraid of the dark. No, certainly not. Oh good, because his girlfriend (as most Koreans) was afraid of the dark and he couldn't have left her alone a minute and even with him she'd be afraid. Most Koreans (even PhD engineers) believe in ghosts and it seems ghosts hang out in mountains in the dark. That wasn't a problem for me. Even if there are ghosts in Korean mountains, I can't imagine what business they would have with me. Chang was free to ride ahead and only wait where the trail forked. Our biggest concern was my night blindness. He's seen me try to hike down mountains in the dark and knew I couldn't see a thing. Fortunately, the trail was lighter than the surrounding terrain so I could see where to go though not the stones and ruts in the way. Fortunately also, the foot and hand warmers I was wearing worked. My toes and fingers were still freezing but the feet and hands were warm, and I was warm enough. We got down the moutain just after 6:30. I did anyway. Chang had gone ahead and had packed up his bike and had the heater going in the car when I arrived.

I was tired but proud as hell of myself for making it. What choice did I have but to make it? That night I met Fable for dinner. Watched a movie. Couldn't do anything but vegetate dumbly. Next morning, same thing. To be continued.... I'm off to dinner with Chang and Ken and then on to the milonga. No work tomorrow. Hah, hah.

Chang's grandmother.

My good buddy (cum father, Korean-life and love-life advisor, tango partner, mountain biking teacher) Chang told me a story about his grandmother recently. She had only told him the story the week before when he gave her a ride from Seoul to Shintanjin. I have frequently commented to Koreans that they must get the stories out of the older generation because they're about to be lost.

Chang's grandmother's story. Chang is not certain of the facts and I asked him to check them. I am not certain of the historical facts. My story may contain unintended factual errors. When Chang gets more facts, I'll make corrections to my story.
Chang's grandmother (GM) was somewhere in the middle of about nine children. At about age 8, her family moved to Japan for her father to find work. About half of the nine children were born in Japan. This was in the 20's during the time of Japan's occupation of Korea. The Japanese were ruthlessly exploiting Korean economic opportunities, leaving Koreans without work or means of support. Koreans by the thousands moved to Manchuria or Japan to find work. At that time in Korea, girls did not go to school. They were kept at home to learn homemaking skills and to be kept safe until their marriage. At the same time in Japan both boys and girls were provided public education. At 8, GM was already behind in school. Some Korean-Japanese associations organized special schools to bring immigrant children up to their grade level. In this way GM got some education. I don't think she was ever able to regularly attend a regular school but she attended school and received an education in the basic subjects of math, history, and Japanese language. She spoke Korean at home but did not learn the Korean alphabet. She spoke, read, and wrote Japanese fluently.

At about age 14 GM began working in a factory to help support the family. She continued her education through the special immigrant schools when she had the opportunity. GM married a Korean-Japanese and had four children, all girls, three born in Japan and one in Korea. In about 1948 or 49 some of the family returned to Korea. Open question: Did GM's husband serve in the Japanese army during the war. I've read that they had to, unless, I suppose, they were involved in war-effort work. Some of the original family remained in Japan and some returned to Korea. GM, her husband, and her children returned to Korea when GM was about 28. GM had continued to work in Japan after her marriage and again in Korea she continued to work. Her husband wasn't able to find work in Busan where they'd settled. After the Japanese occupation and the war, the economy was in a dire condition.

Then in 1950, the Korean War. GM's husband was already over the soldiering age and he became a draft clerk for his town. Feeling guilty for sending young men off to die for their country, he joined the army anyway. Within a few months he was killed, leaving GM to raise her girls in the midst of war and its aftermath. GM hasn't talked to Chang about this time of hunger and desperation, but I've read accounts. Those people suffered terribly from hunger, cold, and disease. In the cafeteria of my institute, I watch the older women who work as cleaners and grounds keepers: They still eat like people who have known hunger, piling their plates high, stuffing as much in their mouths as possible, furtively spooning what's left into plastic bags on their laps.

One of GM's four girls died at about age 9 and another at about 30. Two girls remain, Chang's mother and aunt. I don't know what education Chang's mother was able to get. She's one year younger than me so she was born in 1946. That puts her growing up in the worst times of Korea: World War II and then almost immediately the Korean War during her first ten years of life, and then more years of hardship during the recovery period for her next ten years. Chang's father died when he was a teenager and I don't know what he did for a living, but his parents managed to raise their two boys and put them through university and graduate school. Chang graduated from Seoul National University, the country's most prestigeous university, and is now a researcher at a prestigeous IT research institute.

It's a story repeated over and over. Chang's generation of highly educated techies coming from parents and grandparents who suffered through occupation and two wars. And the younger generation rarely knows anything about the lives of their parents and grandparents. I don't think it's because the young people are not interested. I think it's because the older generation doesn't talk to their children about their lives. I think in Korean society, parents talk to their children to educate them to their responsibilities in life, but they don't talk to them to share their feelings and experiences. I keep telling my young Korean friends: Get the stories and write them down. But they don't.

When Bush started this thing with North Korea, I wondered what was going on. Then I guessed that he was creating a backup. If he fails to attack Iraq, he'll have Korea to attack. Apparently he must attack someone. Why? To show he's macho? To best his father? To complement his father? To support the weapons industry? If it were just Iraq, we could guess it's oil, but Korea can't help with oil, so maybe it's weapons. My Moroccan friend Driss thinks there is a clear reason but the public doesn't know it. Then why doesn't the public know it? What happened to investigative reporting? Is Chomsky right? Is the news media in the pocket of a government-big biz coalition conspiracy? Beats the hell out of me. I wish I knew what was going on, but I sure don't. The only thing I'm sure of is that neither war pretext is the reason.

When you read about events in history and consider what the public knew at the time - and I do think the government might have been a bit more honest in those days (or am I being naive?) - then you have to know that we don't know much about what's going on. I just read an article about Chiang Kai-shek. Government advisors warned and warned the government that Chiang's government on the mainland was corrupt and inept, that most of the aid was going into private pockets. The governement ignored the warnings because it suited them to champion Chiang as a bulwark against communism. Furthermore, the press - maybe led by Luce's organs - also chose to champion him. Was fighting communism the only reason?

I've always assumed that Chiang's government in Taiwan was repressive and corrupt and the article I read confirms that. In addition to killing thousands of protestors at the beginning of his reign on the island, he ruled throughout with secret service agents and terror. And that included his own population of refugees as well as the Taiwanese and of course the native tribes people of the mountains.

The other thing I can't figure out is how the UN can make all those resolutions against Iraq but not put the same pressure on other regimes. Is it legal or does the UN just give into US pressure. I sure don't know and wish someone would explain it to me.

Someone told me that Bush wouldn't attack North Korea because South Korea is so densely populated and a war here would mean the loss of too many lives. Does anyone think Bush cares about that? My friend said maybe Bush doesn't but he certainly has advisors more intelligent than he. Yes, but.... I think Bush won't attack North Korea because it would destroy the economy of South Korea and then the economies of Japan and the other Asian tigers would fall and then our recession would go into a worldwide depression. Driss says the US would even be willing to create a worldwide depression to accomplish whatever secret goal they have. Oh yes, Driss thinks the US wants to destroy the European economy so the US can dominate them and the US is willing to go through a depression if they calculate they'll recover sooner than anyone else and then dominate everyone. I suspect Driss's analysis lacks sound knowledge of economics, but I don't know. I wouldn't put anything past any government.

Politics is so perplexing and disturbing.

I just changed my template to get multiple columns so I can record constant info in one column and my blog record in the main column. Let's see if it worked.

This morning as I was getting out of the shower, something triggered the memory of an event from 28 years ago. At a bargeque at friends Pete and Nancy, I met a Ugandan. Chatting with me and my six year old daughter, he told us he lived in LA with his sister and her six children. My daughter piped up, "Do you kiss and hug naked with your sister?" Understandably taken aback, he quietly replied no. My daughter came back with, "Then how did she get all those children?"