Dear Family and Friends,

By reputation, Jeju Island is to Korea what Hawaii is to us in the States: a tropical paradise. Dominated by a volcanic peak that is highest in the Republic, Jeju-do (pronounced “cheajew-doe”; “do” = island) produces mouth-watering tangerines and is a popular destination for Korean honeymooners equipped with digital cameras and dressed in matching outfits. Although personally not honeymooning and skeptical of the existence of an actual tropical climate a mere 280 kilometers from Daegu, whose average winter temperature hovers around 0 degrees, a visit from my friend Emily and my 31^st birthday seemed sufficient excuses to visit.

Which is how Emily, me, and my friend Julie could be found at 6 pm on Friday night in Jeju International Airport pawing through racks of brochures, pursing our lips at the tourist map, double-checking our guidebooks, negotiating car rental counters, and investigating tour options. Julie and I have been in Korea long enough to realize that (us) making plans is foolhardy and we had investigated Jeju-do to the point of understanding that the airport was far and away the best place to plan our trip.

Skip forward a few hours and we had been settled by a staff of too many into a posh hotel for an off-season steal, consumed a dinner of pork samgypsal and Hite beer and berry wine, and were standing at the empty front desk of the hotel’s basement noribang, ready for some Friday night fun. A noribang is basically a karaoke bar with a few notable differences. Instead of a stage in front of a big room, you are given your own private room, equipped with a karaoke machine, microphones, a table to hold the necessary tools (music menu, a music selection consul, drinks, and tambourines), and lined with couches. Our noribang had a large empty room bordered by a u-shaped shaped-bar and dominated by a well-lit stage, with 4 private rooms off to one side. One room had music pounding but when we cautiously peered through the door seeking an attendant, no one was there. We made our way down a near staircase and found ourselves the subject of stares in what inexplicably felt like an all male domain. Slightly daunted but caught by curiosity, we crept from room to room, calling to each other when we discovered an empty balcony peering over a darkened ballroom which caused my friends to wrinkle their noses and comment on mildew. The ballroom was enormous and it was easy to imagine the place in the summer, flashing with colored lights, brimming with guests swilling their soju and frenetically enjoying the dance floor. But right then, our imaginations only magnified the emptiness of the room.

Finally, we talked the downstairs bartender into helping us with the noribang, picked a room, settled on the couches and began the serious pursuit of singing. We had great fun flipping through the book to select songs and then singing solo, in twos or in threes, depending on the song. I should’ve been a pop star, Julie should’ve been Michael Jackson, and Emily has a penchant for music that neither Julie nor I were familiar with – and this kept us busy for longer than we paid, longer than was sensible considering that we had to be up early for a tour on the morrow.

Well, what can I say? Girls just wanna have fun! --Laura