Dear Friends and Family,

Following the noribang, heads slightly pounding, standing amongst a tour in front of our first famous Jeju tourist destination, a large rock, it was hard to imagine that we girls were out for a day of fun. Our alarms started us into and through mechanical absolutions and we were awake enough to carry through our plan to stow our bags with the overabundant front desk staff & return our key. We – really, I, who have become picky about such details - rejected the hotel's offer of a breakfast buffet at $13 per person, conveyed to us via phone by the only staffer who spoke any English, and we were half a block away when the sweet hotel manager came pelting down the alley to give us a determined smile and all but drag us back for a now free breakfast buffet. This seemed to good to be true but I was quietly pleased to yield to her persuasion so as to not exert the energy finding breakfast in a town whose hospitality was out of season, in a country whose coffee shops inexplicably do not open 'til 10 am. The buffet was Korean side dishes + scrambled eggs + instant coffee… and it wasn't until my eyes came into focus over swirling coffee that I remembered that it was February 10th, my 31st birthday. As I had earlier celebrated my birthday with eight close friends over barbequed duck, on the actual morning of, all I could summon was the strength to sip my coffee and a wan celebratory smile.

The tourist bus, unable to pick us up at the hotel as agreed upon caused considerable consternation until a kind hotel staffer walked us to where the bus had decided that we should be picked up. A silver full-sized tourist bus smartly pulled up to the curb, we boarded and found ourselves amongst sleepy Japanese businessmen and smiley Koreans as we were whisked to the west part of Jeju-do.

The Island of Jeju is shaped in a tipped oval and from most places on the island, Jeju's now-dormant Mount Halla-san can be glimpsed through the clouds. We quickly arrived at our first destination and found ourselves squinting up at a volcanic formation, ceaselessly splashed by waves, called Dragon's Head Rock. I, for one, stood for some time searching the rock’s rough edges for any resemblance to a dragon and could not find that nor a placard to explain the legend of the rock. (Later I found a brief account regarding a servant of Sea Dragon king impinging on territory of mountain gods and getting turned to a dragon-shaped rock). And yet I could clearly recall Winchester’s description of this place in the 1980s when hoards of Korean honeymooners and their taxi drivers armed with cameras would position well-heeled, borderline distressed young brides high into the rocks with their new husbands while elders supervised photo ops from the platform above. How a rock resembling a dragon’s head could bring good fortune to new couples I cannot say, but I can say that not much seems to have changed – well, there are fewer brides in heels – but that morning no one seemed interested scrutinizing the rock for its dragon-like profile. In fact, even I soon got discouraged by trying to find meaning in the big rock and joined the others in their attempts to take the perfect photograph.

Next stop: Happy Town. The bus wound through a landscape stripped by winter while we speculated what in the dickens Happy Town could be. Any place called Happy Town had to be a tourist rip-off, of that we were certain. As the bus parked itself with twenty other tourist buses in a dirt parking area, we looked at the large building, much in need of paint, looked at each other and said “hmm… hmmm…” and minutes later unenthusiastically selected seats in a half-filled auditorium.

The lights dimmed and a lady and a little girl mounted a rope suspended from the ceiling… and an amazing demonstration of acrobatics and courage began. The lady and the little girl flew through the air in slow circles clinging to each other and assorted items - there was one point when the little girl hung from a hoop by the nape of her neck. Next came a lady who twirled countless hula-hoops around her body, 2 couples who exhibited strength and grace flying through the air on lengths of fabric circling from the ceiling, there were little girl contortionists who balanced Chinese lanterns as they piled themselves into human pyramids, and the show finished on breath-suspending note: seven men riding motorcycles in a mesh globe that grew smaller with the entrance of each performer. We loved the show! And concluded that the place was called Happy Town because the audience could only be happy that the performers had lived through their stunts!

Naturally, the observation of death-defying feats creates an appetite so we were bussed to a garden of bonsais for a “traditional” Korean buffet and to enjoy a great deal of “natural” Bonsai beauty. The buffet may well have been traditional but the food was easily recognizable. And while I was interested to learn that Bonsai miniaturization of trees, which I associate with the Japanese, actually originated in China, the emphasis on natural during our visit seemed counter-intuitive. Frankly, my favorite part of the garden was a pond stocked with fat coi carp fish that were only exceeded in size by the stepping stones to a fish food dispenser on the opposite of the pond. As our shadows fell upon the water, the fish furiously teemed against each other to the point that I feared that pellets would only inspire the coi into frenzied leaps for my limbs so I ignored the dispenser in favor of rejoining the group for our next visit to a tangerine orchard.

Under the shade of a rickety lecture building, I believe that fascinating tangerine trivia was imparted but it was all done in Korean so we remained ignorant – but happy anyway because a woman took pity and gave us an armful of tangerines in sorry compensation for our ignorance. We hoarded our fruit while prowling in the trails of roosters pecking fallen fruit, peered through the windows of the neighboring love motel, and kissed volcanic rock statues. Cleverly, I seized the opportunity to visit a toilet and managed to discover that the only toilet on the grounds was for the male bus drivers… I discovered this through scientific inquiry, which was not appreciated by my main subject, who shook his fists at me even as I rapidly backed away and shut the door so he could finish his business. I giggled breathlessly while my friends laughed unsympathetically and that man was still glaring at me when we departed for our next big rock.

I suppose it stands to reason that an island catering to tourists made entirely of rock would also contain rocks as tourist attractions… and our second rock of the day was a giant stone pillar rising from the Korean South Sea. Again, the cameras around me launched into furious clicks while I smiled at the cats insisting on scraps near a food stand and read that in legend, the giant rock to my left was once disguised to appear like a giant military general to scare off would-be Mongolian conquerors… and that this ruse worked so well that the terrified enemy soldiers all killed themselves. Circling the rock, my own camera in hand, I set my imagination to work: painting a face on the rock, adding a horse-hair wig, fitting the pillar into a soldier’s hanbok and wondering how many would it take to sew a hanbok for a 67 foot tall pillar? Did they create the illusion of the giant stone general moving? What kind of weapon did the rock wield? Would Tom Cruise star in a movie “based on the true events” of Oedolgae Rock’s story?

Gazing at the stone pillar in the midst of swirling turquoise water, bordered by cliffs dotted with pine trees, palm trees and orchards of tangerine fields in the distance and I was first struck by a sense of déjà vu – impossible under the circumstances - and next by the realization that to my eyes, the coastline of Jeju resembles that of California. Indeed, later with a few clicks in Google, I found that in latitude, Jeju City measures 33 degrees North – approximately the same latitude as Palm Springs, California. Ok, that explained the thriving palm trees. But left me with a more difficult question: as the Korean peninsula is a mere 4 degrees further north, why the non-palm tree tolerant, punishing winters in Seoul… in Deagu? Google didn’t immediately leap to my aid and someday I shall have to ask but in the meantime, I’m left to suppose that latitude alone does not determine climate.

(And at this point, my Korean teaching peers, concerned that I am typing to you all with a frown on my face, have assured me that my conclusion that Jeju is like California indicates that I’m “sheer genius” and have sufficiently teased me into a smile).

My friends and I had a bit of a rebellion at our next stop, the harbor of the southern Jeju city of Seogwipo – the tour wanted a lot money but couldn’t tell us what for – so the Koreans on the tour boarded a boat while the Japanese businessmen lit cigarettes on the shore and we explored Korean fishing boats plus a shop loaded with priceless treasures for reasonable prices (and the bored vendor was even willing to bargain!). We bought little and rejoined the group for a walk to gawk at a nearby waterfall, which would’ve been gorgeous if it had been the rainy season. All of that… all of that! ended promptly at 5 pm and we drove north through a mountain highway that made me so motion sick that if we had driven for 5 more minutes, I would’ve needed the plastic bag in my lap. The Japanese businessmen had to use and replace their plastic bags. That was horrible but it had been a great tour overall and we said good-bye to our tour at the airport, rented a car, picked up our bags and with my friend Julie at the wheel, returned to Seogwipo.

The clock had just passed nine when we settled ourselves into a hotel room and walked into a restaurant to celebrate the remainder of my birthday over raw fish and soju with the added bonus of entertaining and being entertained by the family at the table next to us. When they found out it was my birthday, the father poured us Hite beer and there were toasts and soju and the night passed in a pleasing blend of excellent food, good alcohol, great company and a host of Korean sentiments that I only understood to be of the best kind.

So when people inquire into how I celebrated my 31^st birthday, I reply that I spent the day doing what I love (traveling) and that I celebrated with wonderful friends from around the globe - all that was wanting was a great piece of chocolate and hugs from my most beloved. I missed you all… and yet, I must say, it was a full day on Jeju-do.

Cheers! --Laura

(Ahh! They're going to get me!)