In The Moment

Don't be a Cynic

2012-02-05T22:08:00.001+09:00

Smile when you want to cry

Cry when you laugh so hard that

Your coffee escapes your nose

Laugh when every instinct in you makes you

Want to choke someone

Try when you want to quit

Give when it is there for the taking

Love like you have never had a broken heart

Love like you have had a broken heart

Never offer advice when it wasn't asked for

Don't treat your opinion like a personal bible

Dance

Treat your friends like family

Treat your family like they were

Your choice and

Not the choice of your parents

Look in the mirror once a wweek and say

"Damn, you're sexy!"

Forget the meaning of the word Envy

Believe when all faith is lost

But always go when it is time to leave

Never Saw That Coming

2012-01-17T18:45:00.000+09:00

Life in Saigon is fast. It is busy. It is hectic. It is intoxicating. It is also a little dangerous. On Sunday night, Me and Candice hopped on my motor bike, and Greg and Joanna were on another motorbike. We were on our way out near Korea town in Ho Chi Minh City to go for a stroll around a lake and take some photos. I discovered the location a couple of weeks ago and knew they would love it.

As we are driving along Nguyen Van Linh street, suddenly I hear a crash and see a flash of light out of the corner of my left eye. The motorbike is losing control and everything is turning sideways. Shit, I think, we have been hit and we are going down in the middle of the road! I do my best to maintain control of the motorbike as we are now almost horizontal. It was all strangely happening in slow motion. My knee scrapes the pavement. Then my elbow. There is a sudden impact as my left shoulder hits the ground. It bounces so hard that I bounce up and roll over. My ankle twists.

I look back and Candice is getting up. "Are you ok," I ask. She is a bit in shock but nods her head. She is alert and mostly ok. We are a long way from the happiness we had the night before: being reunited with my sister-like friend from Busan.

I look up and the guy who hit us is laying prone in the street. His friends turn him over and start shaking him. Greg has parked the other motorbike and run back to the scene. He stops the guys from shaking their friend. (he is in bad shape and I think that he may be dead.) At first Greg is ready to go into CPR mode, but the guy comes to and starts vomiting blood and his dinner.

His friend manage to drag his limp body up and on to a motorbike. He is wedged between them and they drive off. I am still dazed and confused, but trying to remain calm in the face of this chaotic scene.

A lot of nothing happens over the next 1.5 hours as we wait for the police to arrive on the scene. People translate. People congregate to look at the foreigners. People speed by, drunk, on their motorbikes. We are sitting on the patio of a nearby hotel that rents rooms by the hour for about $2.50 an hour. It is a sketchy scene.

Two days later we are at the district police office filling out reports and what not. After a while, the guy who hit us comes in with his brother. He is wearing a hat and sunglasses, and a mask over his mouth. He does not say a word, but his brother looks contrite. It is translated to us that the driver is really sorry for what he as done.

I have never been in a more uncomfortable setting: in pain from the accident, talking to the police, and next to the guy who caused the pain. He takes off his sunglasses and his mask. Much like the Elephant Man, he reveals his battle wounds. One of his eyes is flanked by scars and red scratches. His chin and mouth are bruised and seem to mirror the pattern that asphalt makes when exposed skin is dragged on it.

One of his ears is swollen and I can see the black and blue bruises forming. His hands and arms are more damaged than my own wounds. He is in bad shape. He is lucky to be alive. We are lucky to be alive.

I am still uncomfortable.

I will skip most of the details, but the end result is that the police don't want to deal with the situation because Candice and I are foreign and my driver's license is from the USA and not Vietnam. There is a lot of paperwork involving the size and position of the motorbikes, the injuries to all involved parties, and other details that were never translated.

The look on my face probably told what I was feeling: it seemed like I was suddenly partially to blame because I am not Vietnamese and this complicates the whole process. It is made clear to us that this guy is totally to blame, but the police are trying to get some sort of bribe out of me or of the motorbike owner for dropping this mess in his lap.

Not sure what fees I will eventually have to pay, but there will be some cost. Meh, I am alive (that is what I keep thinking).

"Everything is finished. You can leave," the head police guy says. The owner of the motorbike I am renting has agreed to cover the repair cost. We are not taking the guy's life savings and future income from him. I am not being terrible hosed for being of the wrong nationality in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

My mood is somber as we drive away. I am alive. I will heal. At least we are not as physically damaged as the guy who hit us. I never saw that coming.

End of the World, As We Know it

2012-01-02T01:18:00.000+09:00

So many times I look at the road ahead of me and wonder if I should rethink the course I am on. Every time doubts creep in, the Universe nudges me in the right direction.

They Mayans believed that December, 2012 would be the eventual end of the world. They might have been right. But I don't imagine some apocalyptic physical demise lays in our path. It is simple the end of the world as we know it.

2011 saw the rise and fall of the Tea Party protesters in the States, the Arabic Spring across the Middle East, the death of a dictator in North Korea, the discovery of over 700 planets orbiting nearby stars, the emergence of the 99%, and a host of other developments. This life -this world, is changing.

Personally, I left a life in South Korea that I absolutely loved. Granted, teaching a midst the bureaucracy of public schools in Busan was not always easy, but the challenges almost always lead to discoveries about myself or to rewarding experiences.

Today as I sat here watching Dick Clark's NYE celebration that I downloaded, I teared up thinking about the people and places that I have known as home.

Over 2 years ago I went to Korea and Korea is by no means perfect. But now I find myself in an apartment in Saigon, living in a neighborhood where most people don't speak any English other than Hello or Hi, and I am intoxicated with this life. It is hard. But damn, it is so rewarding.

This is one of those moments of clarity when I know that I am making the right decisions.

Happy New Year.

Now I look back at the last few months before I saw the dawning of the end of the world as I knew it. Here are a few pictures. By the way, a good number of the pictures are from Laos, and Thailand. I really do plan to blog about those adventures, but transitioning into a new life has me a little behind on my blog posts.

2011
I managed to visit Laos. Most of my time was spent relaxing in a hammock or sitting by the Mekong River. But there were a few parties. Here is one from Vang Vieng.

Sunrise after the Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan, Thailand

Random night out in Laos with Tracy and Martin

This picture is from my first days in Saigon with Rae, before I actually "moved" here.

Fishing on the Mekong River with a bunch of cool guys.

This is Lena. She was also a teacher in South Korea and we traveled together for a month through Cambodia and Thailand. I miss her smile, charm, attitude, and Irish ways.

I climbed up a waterfall in Luang Prabang, Laos. I am sure there is a metaphor about life somewhere in this image, but for once, I will leave that up to you.

I am so lazy. This picture is also from Vang Vieng, Laos, but I couldn't be bothered to group it with the one from above. This is Norjta and Siri. I only met Nortja in Laos, but I first met Siri in Thailand. She was also on the trip of a life time.

Baptized by the waters of a waterfall
Drifting in the sea of life
Washing away all doubts and fears
This is the end of the world as I know it

Ah, sitting with Michelle in Railay, Thailand. I have a lot more to say about Michelle, but she really opened my heart and mind. Thank you Michelle.

In the mountains of Laos, the kids rarely meet Falangs. Falang is Lao for foreigner.

And so we ride off into the wild
Looking forward
Moving on

On the streets of Hanoi: when the idea of moving to Vietnam was just a little seed. Now it has taken root and is growing branches.

On the second to last day of 2011, I get to hang out with a couple of teachers from Busan. What a great way to close the year.

Rejoice!
Sing!
Dance like no one is looking!
This.is.your.life.
Live it

Prince and the Pauper

2011-12-24T03:29:00.000+09:00

Giving a nod to Mark Twain for such a title!

If you are taking the time to read my musings on life, travel, poetry and everything in between, then you are probably familiar with Mark Twain's tale of The Prince and the Pauper. In short, a poor kid and a rich kid switch places and experience the world through each other's eyes. I am now living this tale! The only difference is that I am playing both roles.

Life in Busan, South Korea was pretty good. I worked about 14 hours a week (of course I am talking about actual work. The rest of my time was spent looking busy). I made some of the best friends and acquaintances a guy could wish for. I was able to express my interests in poetry and music. I lived near a couple of beaches. I had a decent apartment in one of the best neighborhood for going out, Kyungsung. And generally, I never really had to budget or think about money. I was a prince!

This life continued while I traveled around SE Asia to places like Thailand, Malaysia, Cambodia, northern Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia again! I saw everything. I did everything. I ate everything. I drank everything. I had a pretty flexible budget for travels when I embarked on this latest adventure. And like the Prince, I never thought about money or what it means.

Of course, like most tales, there was a complication or two that sent me on another path. My goal was never to travel forever. Part of my time moving about SE Asia was devoted to starting a business (plans on hold for now), and finding a new country to settle down and teach English for a bit. As I made my way around the map, I found plenty of places that were almost perfect. Everywhere has something to love.

Great beaches

Amazing view.

Breath taking sunsets.

Rustic charm.

Meandering rivers.

Hidden gems.

And urban flair.

It's been one hell of an adventure!

While I would not trade a single moment I have been blessed to have, there is a cost to seeing and doing everything: money. Several months of spending money and not making money, a missed flight, getting scammed here and there (never for a lot of money), eating out and never cooking, buying art and shipping it to the States, renting motor bikes, and having my fair share of massages (it really is hard to say no to a 1 hour foot massage for $6), and a few other financial complications have drained the budget that I never really paid attention to anyway.

Before I knew it, the Prince was running low in the old Royal Treasury Department. So I had to get back to thinking about the one thing I would never like to think about again - money. Skipping a lot of details that I hope to cover in future blog posts, I settled on Saigon, Vietnam as my new home. I was woefully unprepared to move to a new country -

When I sold all of my belongs and moved to South Korea 2 1/2 years ago some of my friends said it was a bold and courageous move. I never really saw it that way. After all, in Korea teachers are supplied with a free and furnished apartment, a decent salary, health insurance, a pension, bonuses, and if you are lucky, an ample amount of vacation days with which you can travel - and I did! What was to be afraid of? Sure, I did not know a single person in South Korea and I was moving far, far, far away from my friends and family, but all the survival stuff was pre-packaged.

Spending several months living out of a back pack and then moving to the last country on your travel plans is a totally different experience! I soon realized that this transition abroad - from abroad - was gonna take some work.

Things I needed:

place to live
a job
a second job
a third job
a motor bike to get between several jobs
a mobile phone (lost mine in Laos)
internet (helps with finding jobs)
professional clothes
criminal background check ( I am a teacher and need to prove that I am not on the lam)
original university degree
letters of reference and recommendation
food
beer (job hunting is stressful)
laundry services
taxis (until I get a motor bike)
good walking shoes (remember, no motor bike)
non travel sized personal grooming supplies
language skills

As you can imagine, most of the items on this list are not things that your keep in your backpack while traveling SE Asia. As I began checking things off of my list, I quickly realized that the remaining travel budget I had saved and the list of things I needed, were not going to be friends.

The Prince becomes the Pauper.

I am still busy checking off the things on the list. Got a few big ones done, like the job and second job. Still looking for a third (possibly as a drama teacher). But as my progress in my survival checklist proceeds, I have become increasingly aware of the price of things and what I can and cannot afford. And surprisingly, the low cost of living of Saigon can get much lower once you are off the tourist path and into living mode.

For example:

Coffee at a normal place with an English menu - $1.20 Coffee from a Vietnamese street cart - $0.55.

Mini hotel - $10 -$20 a night, apartment in non tourist area - $200 a month

Dinner at an average place - $5, Dinner at a place in an alley off the beaten path - $1.50.

Beer at a bar - $1.00, Bia Hoi (made fresh every day!) - $0.30 a pint.

Taxi - $2 - Hopping on the back of a moto bike - $0.50 - $1.00.

This list can go on for day, but I will stop here. You get my point. Life in Saigon is cheap when you are backpacking. But damn, when you are up against the wall trying to go from backpack to bedroom, you can really cut some corners! I have been cutting corners for about a week now. Hopefully my checklist will continue to evaporate over the coming weeks. It will be nice to see the Royal Treasury start to rise again!

When I started writing this post, I totally planned to write more about the Pauper version of myself, but now I sort of don't want to do it. Like the Buddhists say, nothing is permanent. So I will stop writing for now and go meditate on how to make tomorrow awesome!

Siem Reap, Part III

2011-12-22T16:25:00.001+09:00

The real beauty of Siem Reap and the rest of Cambodia is the people. In the 70's the rise of the Khmer Rouge led to the death of almost half of the country's population over the course of 4 years. Between 3 and 4 million people were either killed or died from starvation and over work.

Yet, modern Cambodians are some of the most genuine and friendly people I have met in the world. Despite the recent history, the existing problem of un-exploded landmines, the poverty, the lack of access to healthcare, and the beast that is tourism, Khmer culture is still heavily informed by a social grace that we should all aspire to achieve.

This is Mon. He is 14 and sells books on the streets and alleyways of Siem Reap. Kids like him are forced into selling books, postcards, bracelets, flowers, and any other tourist kitch you can think of. Whenever possible, I try to avoid buying from kids because those tourist dollars keep them employed in modern day slave labor. But I do offer to help them practice their English or provide the occasional meal.

Mon is one of the smartest kids I met while traveling. Lena and I got to know him over a few days and by the time we left, we both wanted to adopt him and give him a chance to make something of his life. One of the more memorable moments was talking with him about selling psychology. "I don't always sell books. But that is ok. If a person says no, I smile and ask if I can just hangout and talk to them. So even though I did not sell anything, I got to practice my English."

It turns out that Mon has quite a bit of skill in English. He told me about how a year ago he met a tourist from Hawaii who works for a news organization. She has been sponsoring his $25 a month English school tuition for the last year.

Now for some randoms.

Hanging out in Temple Bar on Pub Street in Siem Reap - The time I planked the dance floor.

Smiles and laughs with Odie at Temple Bar. By the way, she is an excellent stylist and you should check out her work at Odie's Site

On the third day of visiting Angkor, we went to the Kbal Spean Waterfall. Lena and I made some new friends from The Netherlands and a few other places. We took a break to have a mini dance party. Our tuk tuk had speakers and Robert plugged in his Ipod.

Here is the tuk tuk drive with the awesome sound system. His name is Ramorn and if you find yourself in Siem Reap, email him and get a ride. Tell him Marcus and Lena say hello. ramornkh@yahoo.com

Sunrise at Angkor Wat.

Here are a few more images from Siem Reap.

Cambodia Part II: Siem Reap Rocks

2011-12-22T14:58:00.001+09:00

I grew up in a small factory and furniture town in North Carolina called High Point. It is a simple place were people work hard (when work is to be had), spend a lot of time with family, eat like you would not believe, and generally take it easy. This is important because High Point is the lens through which most of my experiences are filtered.

Subsequently I have lived in much bigger cities in the USA, and the mother of all cities that was Busan, South Korea, population 4 million. So when I come across a quaint small town like Siem Reap, Cambodia, there is something in me that triggers a bit of nostalgia for "home." That being said, Siem Reap is nothing like High Point, NC in any meaningful way other than that it is a small town.

Siem Reap is the base camp for all things Angkor Archaeological Site, with Angkor Wat being the most famous. I will get to that in a second. But first, have a look at the little alley in the Old Quarter that runs parallel to Pub Street.

This gem of an alley is lined with restaurants of various types from traditional Khmer cuisine, French bistros, Western cooking, Thai food, and an assortment of other tasty treats. One of my favorite Cambodian/Kymer dishes is Amok.

Amok is steamed curried fish that is coated in a thick coconut milk with various spices and then baked or steamed. The best part is that it is usually placed in a bowl made from banana leaves before it is steamed.

I could write an entire post about the food and the old quarter, but I am being lazy and have so much to do, so just know that your stomach will be more than satisfied for about $3 USD.

The main reason that people go to Siem Reap is to visit Angkor Wat.

Angkor Wat is everything you ever heard it would be. Intricate carvings, massive size, historical significance, awe inspiring view, megalith dominance, and the life's work of so many ancient Khmer artisans. But what Angkor Wat is not is the most impressive temple in the site. There are dozens of temples at Angkor and each one has something unique that makes it awesome.

How cool are these stone faces at Bayon?

Like I was saying, Angkor Wat is not the most impressive. For my tastes, Ta Prom is the stuff of legends. Unlike Angkor Wat, the jungle has not been beaten back at Ta Prom. Hundreds of years old trees are interwined with the stone temples to create a scene out of Indiana Jones or Tomb Raider (Tomb Raider was actually filmed at Ta Prom)

Check out how tiny my friend and month long travel mate, Lena, looks next to one of the massive trees.

This is a case where the jungle has clearly proved its dominance of the construction of Man.

Anyway, if you want to see the full set of pictures from Angkor, check out my facebook albums. Angkor and Siem Reap

Also, here is an obligatory shot of a tuk-tuk. In Siem Reap there are no taxis. People either ride a bicycle, walk, or hop a ride in one of these contraptions for about $1 to anywhere in town or $10 to $15 dollars for a full day of touring out and about Angkor.

Here is Lady Killer. He worked for my guesthouse and was also a tuk tuk driver.

This post is getting long, so I will start a part III soon to tell you about WHY I love Siem Reap. Here's a clue: the people are great.

The scandal in education is that every time when you teach something, you deprive a child of the pleasure and benefit of discovery . . .

2011-12-15T20:59:00.000+09:00

Today I received a response to a job inquiry in Thailand as a teacher. I was given this quote and asked to write a very short response, presumably to test my English skills. I actually found it quite a useful way of screening potential teachers. See the quote and my thoughts below.

The scandal in education is that every time when you teach something, you deprive a child of the pleasure and benefit of discovery . . .

Take a moment and reflect on the above statement. What images does it generate in your mind as you reflect on your own personal educational experiences?

By spending a few moments reflecting on your relationship with the education process, you can more clearly understand the implications of the statement above. There is a distinct difference in exploring your own thoughts versus having a pragmatic and systematic transfer of information from teacher to student. Of course I am not saying that there is no role for teachers in this world; only that the role of the teacher may be better fulfilled if it is thought of as “one who facilitates learning.”

I am a teacher. I have taught primary school age students English in Busan, South Korea for the last two years. Sometimes the requirements were that a rigid system was used to hopefully help students increase their English proficiency. Other times I used crafts, games, activities, acting lessons, role plays, situational humor, and art as a means to facilitate the learning of English. Without fail, the activities that were non-traditional were more engaging for both my students and me. So while my title may be teacher, I went to work with the intent of engaging and having fun. I was paid to be a teacher, but more often than not, learning was something that my students did by default. The real value in my job was being able to provide as many different forms of engagement as possible to my students. To be a generator of ideas.

My personality in my non work life does not differ from my personality in the classroom. Whether it is conversations with friends, blog posts about cultural differences we experience when we travel the world, or spending time creating a book of poetry, my first aim is always to facilitate the generation of ideas in others. That being said, I also cherish the times that I am able to learn and discover something new about myself by shifting my perspective and seeing the world through the eyes of others.

I may not always hold the title of Teacher in my life, but I will always play the role. And if you are an educator, remember the reasons that you wanted to teach. Remember the joy of discovery. Remember that learning happens every day in many forms. And use this reflection as an opportunity to engage with your students. They deserve it.

Marcus Williams

Cambodia Part I: From the border to Siem Reap

2011-11-01T18:19:00.000+09:00

Siem Reap,

Cambodia

Lena and I crossed the boarder early Saturday morning and went to the mafia run taxi outpost about 1 km from the crossing. As I mentioned in a previous post, Poipet, Cambodia is not the sort of place you want to spend a lot of time. Between the hoards of young Cambodian men hanging out on their motorbikes, eyeing your bags, offing suspect assistance, or just being sketchy, you start to feel like a walking ATM from the moment you cross the border.

We intended to just split the $46 cost of the 2 hour taxi to Siem Reap, but at the station we met a couple from the Philippines who were also going to Siem Reap. Sweet, 46 divided by 4 is even cheaper.

The ride from Poipet is actually quite enjoyable. Rice fields, and plains can be seen for the duration of the 2 hour drive from the border to Siem Reap. And on more than one occasion we spotted some sights that were not familiar to our western eyes. There was the father who had his young son between him and the steering column of his scooter, 4 chickens dangling from ropes on each side of the handle bars, a live pig, um, “hog tied” and perched on the back of the scooter, and he managed all of this effortlessly. My initial impression after the awe of the situation was to wonder how he managed to get moving. I’ve riding a few scooter recently and maintaining balance is not problem once you are in motion, but how did this guy go from zero km/h to anything other than horizontal on the pavement?

Speaking of sights, it is not uncommon to see a pick up truck that is in “top load” mode. Imagine a pickup truck. Now fill the bed part with various bits of cargo. Now add about 15 Cambodian workers. Tricky right? Now put another 8 or so people on top of the cabin of the pick up truck, directly above where the driver and 2 or 3 other passengers are comfortably positioned. Finally, put all of this in motion at a reasonably fast 80 km/h and you have a Cambodian top load pickup.

One side note: we crossed the border in the morning after a full nights sleep. So we were well rested and ready for the journey ahead. Yet, 20 minutes into the trek, Lena and the two Filipino friends we made at the taxi depot were fast asleep. I was also feeling quite drowsy and wanted to go to sleep as well, but managed to stay awake. Part of it was fear that the taxi had been gassed so that we would pass out and not notice our bags being searched for loot, and part of my alertness was based on the two syrupy Redbull energy drinks I had just after crossing the border. I can’t say for certain that the taxi had been gassed, but I have heard tales of traveler being drugged and robbed on night busses and the like. FYI.

After about 2 hours on the road, we arrived at the outskirts of a flooded Siem Reap. The flood waters were in the streets and there was a noticeable stream of water being jettisoned from the sides of the taxi. As expected, our taxi driver dumped us out at the edge of town into the waiting seats of a couple of tuk tuk drivers.

The drivers offer you a free ride to your hotel in hopes that you will hire them to tour you around Angkor. Actually, they rarely take you to your hotel unless you have pre-booked accommodations. If you just have an idea of where you would like to stay, they will insist that it is too far or not in a good area, or whatever you will believe. They get a small kickback by taking you to an accommodation, hotel or hostel, with which they have an arrangement. While this is somewhat shady, the hostels in Siem Reap are more like hotels and are usually of a very decent quality. Plus, when you are paying $7 USD a night, the kickback the tuk tuk driver is getting can’t be that big. Lena and I were driven by Ramone, who we hired because of his English ability and affable manner.

He showed us 2 hostels, and we settled on the first one, The Siem Reap Central Hostel, $7 a night. To say that we were pleasantly surprised with the quality would be an understatement. I’ll tell you more in part II.

Tuk tuk ride in flood waters. Give Ramone a tip for driving in this.

Below you get a glimpse of the Old Towne section of Siem Reap.

The picture below is from The Siem Reap Central Hostel. Like I said, more like a hotel.

Bangkok

2011-10-31T13:34:00.000+09:00

After spending two years in Busan, South Korea, my second contract finished and I was just not ready to go back to the USA to live or to stay in the ROK (Republic Of Korea). So I took what saving I had and decided to see some of the world.

The first stop was Bangkok, Thailand. After a brief stop over in Hong Kong, I arrived in Bangkok in one piece. This was the third time I visited

Thailand

, having been here during my winter vacations the last two years.

Thailand greets you with a certain oppressive heat and humidity unknown in North Carolina and certainly foreign to the cool climate of

South Korea

. I had packed a couple pairs of pants, 2 long sleeve shirts, and sweatshirt for cool nights. There really are no cool nights in Bangkok. Needless to say, those items were eventually mailed home or altered to allow more air access.

From the airport I hopped on the Airport Express train into town and got off at the Phaya Thai exit. Next I got the first metered taxi to Khao San Rd. My first few nights I booked a room at Boonsiri Place (for which I spent too much money for the value, but that is the nature of traveling alone in Thailand.)

Maybe it was the 2^nd or 3^rd day, not sure, but I met up with Nick Bud and his sister Kelly. Nic was also an English teacher in Busan whose contract had reached completion. We did the usual Bangkok fare, drinking, shopping, eating, and then again in reverse order. The next two days were peppered with food and massages! By the end of my third day in Bangkok, Lena Rochford (who I would travel with for the next month), Hannah Richards, and Jenn Young also joined the Busan Reunion!

On Friday Lena and I set off for Cambodia! We took a taxi to Mo Chit where the public bus terminal is located. At gate 23 in the inside counter, we got our tickets to Aranyapatet, a little Thai border town that is one of the main gateways to Cambodia. On the other side of the border crossing is a town called Poipet, Cambodia. I once read in Wikitravel that Poipet rhymes with toilet for a reason. It really is a shithole of town. Full of snatch thieves, pickpockets, motorbike gangs, the taxi mafia, gambling, prostitution, and any other seeding thing you can think of. There is no need for the average person to spend any more time in Poipet than is required to secure a taxi to Siem Reap.

Vietnam Visa

2011-10-18T11:56:00.002+09:00

I have so much to write about, but just an update, got my Vietnam Visa today!

Saying Goodbye

2011-10-01T09:20:00.000+09:00

I have a lot of catching up to do. Fact. My last official "night out" in Busan was better than I could have hoped for. Me, Tresanna, Kim and Starbuck went to Gwangali for some Japanese Miso Ramen. It was a little bland, but by far the best noodle soup I had in Busan. Something about Miso (insert me so horny joke here).

After dinner we arrived in KSU and instead of going right to the going away party, we did the obligatory Family Mart drinks. Insert coffee and soju directly into my blood stream now.

The part was sick! Trey Yip put on his last show and allowed me to come up for the goodbye song. At this point, let's say that I was having a hard time seeing because I had consumed too much. . . . The crowd sort of swayed back and forth as Trey belted
We get high
We get stoned
We sing songs
Far from home
I wish you the best on your travels
Tonight

You could feel the love in the air. Busan, for all that it is, is full of expats who exceed in the awesome and talent departments.

When Trey stepped back from the microphone and I started with a little beat box and then freestyle, I was overcome with emotions and feelings. Part of it was the realization that I was leaving my new home. Part of it was the energy from the crowd of about 250 people, and part of it was, well, I was wasted.

I sat down on the stage and kept freestyling. Not sure of all of the content, but I am pretty sure I said something like:
We get high
we get stoned
we smoke week from a
makeshift bong
We're here today and
tomorrow we're gone
but in my heart
you'll be the song
pass me the bag
the big bag of weed
all of the green
none of the seeds
So let's get high together
tonight.

There was a lot more to this night, but I am pressing fast forward in 3, 2, 1,
Maria- sorry for being stubborn
Christy- awesome conversation and the great escape
Sophie - time warp and light show! Miss you girl, wish we had more time.
Cheryl- get to France you roaster. How is is sunrise and how are we in Gwangali
Dougie - way to get a party started at 8 am
Kyle- I will see you in a desert some day.
George - What a grand experiment
Gabe- As always, a chill time
Eva - dance like no one is looking
Stacy - I wish I knew you better and longer
Cheng Bang - What a great 2 years we had. Where were you at sunrise?
Tresanna- You became my rock and I love you girl. Thanks for being the kind of friend that accepts the good and the bad.
Trey and Karla - A man couldn't ask for more powerful souls to chill with in a place where the land turns to sand and kisses the sea.

Goodbye Busan.

20 Things I've Learned

2011-09-05T14:14:00.000+09:00

1. Life is too short to spend a lot of time thinking about yesterday.
2. If I strip away all of the material things, pretense, fear, hatred, pride, and greed, I can find the essence of me. This is the me that can exist anywhere.
3. I don’t want to be the last one to leave the party.
4. Thoughts become things.
5. How you feel affects how you see the world.
6. Ten percent of life is what happens to us. The other 90% is how we respond.
7. No everyone needs or should be the same.
8. Money is just paper. I’ll always trade money for smiles.
9. The dreamer is bigger than the dream.
10. A setback is just a detour that you were not expecting.
11. There really are no obstacles in life, just a bunch of opportunities to prove what you are made of.
12. It is possible to fall in love at first sight.
13. The trip “there” is as good as the destination.
14. Having little and giving it all is better than having a lot and giving a little.
15. Nothing is destined or meant to be. Things are what we make of them.
16. I like dancing in the dark.
17. Real friends are the ones who like you on your bad days.
18. Saying “YES” opens many doors.
19. If you are going to do it, make a fucking effort.
20. People believe what they want to believe and this is the only thing that truly matters.

Beautiful

2011-08-31T07:01:00.000+09:00

I think that you are beautiful.
And I know that you think so too
Even though you would never acknowledge it
some time ago, someone you trust
told you that you were ordinary
maybe even slightly less than ordinary
and despite all the evidence to the contrary,
you believed him or her

Stop remembering that hurt and know that you are a
woman
the kind of woman that can make a man melt with a smile
the kind of woman that has power in her walk
that has power in her gaze
that has power
erase that one moment of doubt
that has generated ever other moment
and remember that you are beautiful
and that I am not afraid to tell you
and that I want nothing more than
to dive into you being
and be with you

Muse

2011-08-30T11:44:00.000+09:00

How do you tell a woman
That you want her to be
Your muse?
That you have imagined the
Cracked and dry flesh of your
Rigid hand
Pressed firmly on her thigh
That you can almost smell the succulent
Natural smell of her skin
Woman mixed with shampoo
A hint of talc

A microscopic layer of sweat created
From the humid, post monsoon
Air presents an imagined aroma of
Lust
Do you look her in the eyes
Grab her hand
Better still, slide one hand to
The small of her back

Ask her to walk with you
To imagine
That the world ends tomorrow
And the only way to save the planet is to
Stop time
To be in the moment
Together

Is it ok to tell her that you
Want to survey her body with
Your finger tips
With your tongue
With your body
With your essence
Or are you a gentleman
A gentle man
On the precipice of
Spontaneous combustion
At the thought of her
Yet steadfast in your resolve
To hold it together
See her as a woman and
As an adventure
See her as a thinker and
A something to be thought about

Do you hope that she reads your words
That those words make her smile
And that though your hands-
Still rigid and absent of her touch-
Lost in the longing for her proximity
Would settle for a smile
Do you tell her that she
Has already inspired you
That you live in the fold
Between her glance
And your desire

You tell her and hope
Hope that she already knows
Because tomorrow the world ends
You can't fear simple rejection
When the stakes are total annihilation
You tell her because you are out of time
And you need her help
To write another verse
And leave it on the air.

Sound Picnic, Dark Moon Party

2011-08-30T11:28:00.001+09:00

Rocked out at Sound Picnic, Black Moon party.

Notice the aliens in the crowd?

BATUCADA SOUND MACHINE

2011-08-30T11:12:00.001+09:00

This past weekend was epic. It started with a beach party at Gwangali and ended with a night of mad dancing with Batucada Sound Machine in The Vinyl Underground. Twas by far one of the best shows I've seen in Busan in the last two years. I took a few videos with my mobile phone, but I am not yet tech savvy enough to post the video here. I'll work on that.

Monsoon Season

2011-06-29T11:51:00.000+09:00

No one really remembered when monsoon season had started. But we all noticed the change in everyday life. We only used the word "dry" to signify the lack of something. There was night and there was almost night. Both damp. Both without sun, folding in on each other like what I imagine a nuclear winter to be. A nuclear winter that still holds the heat of sub-atomic exlposion.

The air was always visable: mist rolling in over the mountain to settle in the winding alleyways of KSU, fog and steam rising from the hot and congested streets, and breath condensing and sinking like dry ice when it meets the monsoon morning air. I looked out of my window to decide if I needed an umbrella for the walk to work today. What was I thinking? I always need an umbrella during monsoon season. But I was hoping I could get by without it.

Across the street, I saw an ajumma standing on her enclosed balcony. It looked as though she was hanging laundry. But the clothes did not have the tell tale signs of being freshly spun by the washing machine. I could make out the creases that come from being folded and put away in a closet or on a shelf. She was hang-washing.

The was so much moisture in the air that you could hang your dry clothes and the water from the morning breeze would condense on every fiber of the fabric. Drops of water slowly formed and fell to the floor, taking with them the stale last season smell that clothes collect when neglected for months at a time. I watched her hang the laundry for some time. My mind wandered to Thailand and Cambodia. Then to Laos and Vietnam. Better buy a raincoat I thought. Then I grabbed my umbrella and headed for the door.

I don't remember when monsoon season started, but I hope it ends soon.

The Sudden Minority

2011-06-22T23:07:00.002+09:00

It could be said that the biggest culture shock for white westerners coming to Korea is the sudden loss of majority status. Is the transition easier for westerners of color going from minority to minority? Marcus Williams writes of culture shock, white privilege and new paradigms.

BUSAN, South Korea -- Most blogs penned by Expats in South Korea touch on Culture Shock at one time or another. For some, the Korean culture is so ‘foreign’ that they decide to pack it up and skip town during the first year, choosing not to adapt or cope with their new found surroundings. This departure can be with an approving nod from a willing employer or via the infamous ‘Midnight Run.’

Many of us expats in the ROK have found some way to cope. I use the word ‘cope’ with specific intent. Life as a western foreigner can be challenging. We face a myriad of emotions and experiences that range from finding the culture mildly irritating to the other swing of the pendulum with the ‘I never want to leave,’ experience.

When I first arrived in the Land of the Morning Calm, I was truly overwhelmed with the vast contrasts in Busan with the slow, country charm of my home in North Carolina.

Perhaps the the greatest contrast was due simply to the color of my skin. Being black in South Korea is a sure fire way to stand out, stick out, and quite frankly, be singled out.

The fact is, every expat who is not Korean sticks out; and I find that a fair number of Koreans at times go out of their way to remind us of that at every turn.

One of the core aspects of the expat experience in Korea is created by this otherness. Those westerners amongst us, by geographical apportion, suddenly share a common minority status. We tend to have the same gripes, joys and pet peeves.

Interestingly, soon after arriving on the peninsula, I noticed that how we deal with being a minority can take on different modes. I suppose this is a good time to define “we.”

If you haven’t noticed, most of those teaching English in South Korea trend towards some variation of Caucasian decent. Whether from the US, Australia, Canada, South Africa, or the UK, they come from a life where being part of the majority culture was the norm. In short, Caucasians are going from majority to minority.

As a black American it is markedly different. And it is from this perspective I seek to understand how being a minority, for the first time, can have a profoundly different effect than being a minority such as myself in the midst of a new Majority.

I don't give a lot of thought to race relations and interactions normally, but at a multimedia event in Charlotte, North Carolina a while back, a friend of mine gave a talk about the costs and obligations of what she calls “white privilege.” The merits of her presentation were intrinsically important. The audience was mostly White. My friend who gave the lecture is White. It was a conversation to White Americans, from a White American, about the unseen benefits of being a White American. But more than that, it was a conversation about what it means to be afforded privilege because of where and what you were born.

For most white people it is unnecessary to give a moment's thought to white privilege --they are simply accustomed to certain things. For example: not being stared at, not being ignored, not being given less rights, not being treated with disrespect, not being marginalized, and so on.

While in the majority it is difficult to accurately measure or much less comprehend such behavior while you are in the majority. It is only when you move to a homogeneous country of “others” that the transcendent layer of white privilege evaporates. There you are: an other.

As a result, being in the minority can present itself as a form of culture shock. Don't get me wrong - the Korean culture is very different from what I knew back in the States. But different does not mean better or worse. It’s just different.

Earlier I spoke of being happy here. In other words, some of the cultural barriers that drive other expats away, don’t really get to me. Part of this is because I never had any illusions of privilege back home. Sure, I went to a good university and have worked for prestigious companies, but I have always been Black. And the coping skills I have learned as a black man in the States are exactly the skills one needs to survive in any country where they are the minority.

On the word “surviving,” I want to give this piece of advice to my other expat friends who happen to be White:

Get over it.

You are not being lynched, burned, beaten or called derogatory names. Well, at least not names that most of us understand.

But wait. Is my solution too simple? No one wants to be told to get over anything. It reduces your feelings and emotions to something less than meaningful. In fact, it might even be straight up offensive to the ear. And as offensive as it might seem, it is the most prudent advice I can offer.

And while I am taking a stark view at minority/majority perspectives, at the end of the day, nothing I say will be as real or as important as what you experience and what you feel.

Allow me to enumerate the privileges that exist back home that don’t exist here for much of the minority.

The List

Media image
Unreasonable expectations
- Dating
- Cultural contextual knowledge
- Privacy
Being a scapegoat for societal ills
Separate but not equal
- Cell phone contracts
- Employment contracts
- Equal access to banking and finance
- Housing

This list is how I arrange some of the paradigm shifting life issues that one might face as a sudden minority. It is by no means comprehensive or applicable for everyone. Take a moment and look at my list. Think about the problems you didn’t have before you moved to South Korea. Think about the problems you do have now. How many of them are a matter of perspective going from majority to minority? Make your own list.

Things have a way of working out. The payoff for this exercise is not enlightenment. But maybe, just maybe, a slight shift in perspective can lead to better understanding of how what other people do makes us feel. And if we understand how and why we feel, we might actually change how we respond.

John Bocskay
Could you define "get over it"? Are you saying "learn to cope", in which case some insight into the coping skills you mentioned but didn't elucidate would be useful, or are you just saying "quit whining; you don't have it half as bad", which, frankly, is kind of how it comes across.It's a thought provoking article, and I thank you for it.

--------------------------

I'm looking at your list; some of those problems I would put down to being a member of a minority, though lots of others I put down to simply being a resident alien (as opposed to a citizen). I know there are people who moan, but I think more of us also recognize the rationale for not entering into long contracts with a group of what are for the most part transients who may (and have) leave at any moment. I get that. I think many of us get that.If I may speak for my fellow fair-skinned expats for a moment, I think we also recognize the "minority privileges" - to coin a phrase? - that we enjoy here too. Two days ago, for perhaps the 20th time in the last ten years, my waygookin ass was waved through a DWI checkpoint without a test. I appreciate that. Had my wife been driving, it would have been a problem (We'd actually had a glass of wine about ten minutes before). Things like that don't go unnoticed, unremarked, or unappreciated by most white folks I know in Korea.
- Like
- 1 month ago

Marcus Williams

John Bocskay , "get over it," and "learn to cope" are intrinsically the same thing in this case. But the reason I wrote the article is more about recognition. I find that when I examine WHY I feel something, I can often make better choices in my attempts to respond to those emotions. You make a great point that I should elucidate on coping skills. Fair. Yet, I find that the very act of coping is so personal that what works for me may not work for you. They are the result of a lifetime of trial and error.

That being said, the best method I have in my quiver is the Smile. In all interactions if you are the first to smile, you have minimized the need to cope. I like to call this the Plus One. Give everyone the benefit of the doubt in all initial interactions. If they are negative towards you, you have the right to be negative back. However, the interaction started with you being positive. You are at a "plus one" state.

Finally, as a minority, there are certain privileges. This is especially true when you are a sought after minority-expat-alien. In that case, we don't have that bad at all.

Joe Long

Guessing none of the people you met live in the LA area. White people are the minority. People like yourself from hick towns or those from white majority countries shouldn't be given a voice. The question is, why are you the voice of the minority you are criticizing?

I think we are all minorities here. Regardless of color.

1 month ago

Marcus Williams

Joe, thanks for the comment. I almost started to write a well thought out response to you, but I figured you probably wouldn't bother to read it. Instead, I'll offer this:
1. Where do you find that I criticize rather than offer my observations?2. Charlotte, NC is not LA, but it is not quite a "hick town."3. The idea that ANYONE should be denied a voice borders on ridiculous. You may disagree with my assesment of the world, but I think I will hold on to my right to have an opinion and to express it.4. I think you missed the point of what I am saying, but thanks for taking the time to comment.

Finally, you are right, we are all minorities here. For some of us expats, this is a new experience. For others, this is only a slight paradigm shift.

Not_Korean

Thanks for the article. It seems to carry a bit of defeatism in it though. Because you weren't raised with "white privilege" it seems that you sort of take being treated as less what you should expect and you suggest that whites should do that as well. I disagree. While it's true that as an expat you are a "guest" in another culture, all cultures need to learn equality among races and genders. The simple fact that as an expat you are called "waygukin" should be enough to indicate how heavily entrenched many Koreans are in regard to racist attitudes. Why is the word "foreigner?" Why isn't it "friend" or "sister" or "brother?" The word "waygukin" in itself indicates separate and different. Korea has a long way to go. Don't be afraid to remind the Koreans you meet that the world does not bow to them. They need to know.

1 month ago

Miss S

Thanks for the article. I think this is defiantly a point of tension for many who arrive in Korea.
Although, I would like to point out that white South Africans are the minority in South Africa and coming to South Korea, at least for myself, hasn't been as much of a jarring adjustment as I have seen in fellow expats from other countries.
I have never lived in a country where I was part of the majority and therefore wouldn't know what I'm missing.

1 month ago

Marcus Williams

Miss S,

Your experiences are congruous with one of the points I make about the loss of privilege. Although, pre-apartheid South Africa did afford certain innate privilege to the Caucasian Minority, I suspect a natural erosion has occurred over time.

Diana Marie Painter

I love you so much, Marcus. SO MUCH! I've been thinking about my experience as a strange woman in a strange land (Iowa- which is no means Korea) and reconciling my privilege with my foreign status. I don't have the problem of legal status also complicating it, but it is just more of my privilege. I'm glad you put these thoughts down for others to help self-reflect on.

1 month ago

Chris Davies

Great article Marcus, spoken like a true gentleman with honesty, wisdom and truth. Bravo sir :)

1 month ago

Jim Batcho

This is an article that has needed to be written for a long time. Of course it ultimately comes down to the personality and temperament of the individual. But your perspective brings a whole new weight to it. Nicely done Marcus.

The Sudden Minority | Busan Haps

2011-06-22T22:58:00.000+09:00

The Sudden Minority | Busan Haps

I edited one of my early Korea blog posts and it was published on the Busan Haps website.

Butterfly

2011-06-22T22:53:00.002+09:00

Butterfly

Did I see you at Kino eye
Looking fly, as I squeezed by
Saturday night
Drinking the well dry
Malted wheat
Apricot, hops and rye?
Got you feeling good
As the night moves by
Tried to catch your eye
Ouch, Denied
Strike one, no, sacrifice fly
Cutie with the booty,
I’ll be close by

You ain’t even gotta say a word
You’re a butterfly
In a bar full of birds
You ain’t even gotta say a word
You’re a butterfly
In a bar full of birds

You got slow game
Just a smile and your name
They all do it the same
Too many laying claim
But all with poor aim
It’s a damn shame
The way they play the game
Drives me insane
And you-

You ain’t even gotta say a word
You’re a butterfly
In a bar full of birds
You ain’t even gotta say a word
You’re a butterfly
In a bar full of birds

You ducking them nerds
You in the middle of the herd
Stiff arming them turds
Eliminating two thirds
Protected from the absurd
While I just watch and observe

You ain’t even gotta say a word
You’re a butterfly
In a bar full of birds
You ain’t even gotta say a word
You’re a butterfly
In a bar full of birds

But I can already foresee
It’s 4:43
The moment you’ll be
Leaving with me
I’m the sole survive-e
Of your turbulent seas
Stepping over debris
Crushing worker bees
Bruising heads and knees
Refugees and wanna be’s
Or wanna be ME’s

You ain’t even gotta say a word
You’re a butterfly
In a bar full of birds

What are you waiting for?
There’s the door
Paramore, let’s explore
I know what you’re here for
And that’s what I adore
So prepare the vessel
I’m coming ashore
Must be P Day and this is
World War Four-

You ain’t even gotta say a word
You ain’t even gotta say a word
You ain’t even gotta say a word
You’re a butterfly
In a bar full of birds

Don't be a Cynic

2011-06-22T22:39:00.000+09:00

Smile when you want to cry

Cry when you laugh so hard that

Your coffee escapes your nose

Laugh when every instinct in you makes you

Want to choke someone

Try when you want to quit

Give when it is there for the taking

Love like you have never had a broken heart

Love like you have had a broken heart

Never offer advice when it wasn't asked for

Don't treat your opinion like a personal bible

Dance

Treat your friends like family

Treat your family like they were

Your choice and

Not the choice of your parents

Look in the mirror once a wweek and say

"Damn, you're sexy!"

Forget the meaning of the word Envy

Believe when all faith is lost

But always go when it is time to leave

Explaining Freestyle Rap, and exercise in stream of consciousness.

2011-04-05T08:52:00.000+09:00

Last night, I had a long conversation about what it is like to free style on stage. "How do you follow a rhythm, tell a story, and make it rhyme?"

At first, I thought it would be quite simple to explain the parallel thought processes that I have when I free style. But before long, I was made aware that I was using the skill set as part of the definition. It is really hard to talk about the art of the free style without giving examples. Yet, these examples are what make it inaccessible from the uninitiated.

So, I tried a different approach; making a simple rhyme, and then outlining all of the thoughts that go into that rhyme.

One plus three

fortify the city

them against me

all odds seem shitty

Will I cease to be?

Now's not the time for pity

One

My opponents make a run

Two

I try to beat them black and blue

Three

You talking to me?

Four

INCOMING- hit the floor

and this is how the above verse comes to exist. One plus 3 is a math equation that equals 4. When I think of 4, I often associate 4 with "4 corners." 4 corners can be a defense, the pillars of the walls about a castle, my bed, a metaphor for the underlying principles of some argument, i.e., the four corners of modern music theory are rhythm, frequency, . . . .

I chose the image of a castle surrounded by a series of walls. Each wall joined in a 90 degree angle at the corner. When a castle is attacked, you have to fortify the perimeter. That is how I got from 1 plus 3 to fortify the city. FOURtify the city.

When does a city need to be fortified? When it is under attack. Usually it is a war (them against me). There are a lot of ways to describe a war, but Them Against Me is what I chose because it rhymes. The plurality of Them versus the singular nature of ME is an unfair fight. Thus, "all odds seem shitty."

I could go on explaining each thought and connection, but I think you get the idea. The part I cannot explain is how to have all of these thoughts in parallel, while rapping, and keep sync with the music. It probably has something to do with experience, brain compression algorithms, thinking in pictures instead of words, etc. By the way, I often mention that I think in pictures. I am not sure if this is accurate, but my understanding of a picture is that it contains a lot of data. So, thinking in pictures gives the brain to compress the free style synthesis process.

When we experience the world with our eyes, the brain processes information at alarming speed. In fact, I am not sure what the limits of the brain are, but as an example, imagine driving down the highway at 70 miles per hour. Is it possible?

Of course it is. We instinctively block out and compress all irrelevant data. Then we focus on the data that affects our decision making. Yet, we can also listen to some Massive Attack, carry on a conversation with other passengers in the car, realize that we are thirsty, smoke a cigarette, and wonder if the girl in the next lane has a nice ass.

This blog post started as a facebook note. So I am including the original comment thread because I think it adds to the conversation.

Jen Davis I can hear these words come out of your mouth as I read this. You're awesome.
March 31 at 8:27pm ·
Elizabeth Hiatt This is a perfect example of how much wittier/smarter/clever you are than me!
March 31 at 9:44pm ·
Jim Batcho purity
April 1 at 1:24pm ·
Gino Brann Interesting. I wonder though how those thoughts can fit so seamlessly within the rhythm. I mean, trying to stay within the flow while thinking of the next thing you want to express. I think that'd be the hardest thing.
April 1 at 2:57pm ·
Marcus L. Williams ‎Gino Brann, I think it relates back to thinking with pictures and not words. Because our brain can compress images so easily (we have been doing it since birth), the two time consuming steps are translation to language, and syncing with the music.
April 1 at 3:19pm ·
Marcus L. Williams This might sound odd, but music is one of the few things in life that defy the limits of Time (with a capital T). You can anticipate the melody, hear the sound, and remember what you just heard. We do this constantly in parallel. I can imagine it is much like playing the guitar or dancing to Miami Bass music.
April 1 at 3:21pm ·
Gino Brann
Yeah I suppose it is like dancing or playing an instrument, in terms of getting in the flow and all that. With language is there's so much imagery involved and I've personally never been good at conceptualizing visually or spatially. Maybe...See More
April 1 at 3:34pm ·
Marcus L. Williams a comma or pause can go a long way. Watch out! Baby! or watch out , baby . . . Those sound totally different and mean very different things. When you alter the space between words, you can prevent people from compressing what you say or allowing it to be white noise. Pacing and stutter etc., can make normal words interesting and unavoidable.
April 1 at 3:39pm ·
Jim Batcho That's the rhythm aspect. I always appreciate space in music because then what you play or what you say has more impact. But notes are notes, language is a whole other thing. I've never understood how people can do that.
April 1 at 3:42pm ·
Gino Brann Yeah, the space....that's the funk.
April 1 at 3:42pm · · 1 person
Jim Batcho That's what George Clinton taught me. Not to name drop, but he had me really hold back on the note. Pull that time back as far as possible and then zing it. Goes not just for drums but every instrument, including the voice.
April 1 at 3:45pm ·
Marcus L. Williams George Clinton taught me how to smoke a joint in a college auditorium. Ok, he did not teach me per se, it was more like he taught all of us.
April 1 at 3:57pm · · 2 people
Violet Lea This is interesting, I could probably never put 'freestying' into words, I don't do it near as much, and sometimes it's good for me and sometimes I fail. My simplest explanation would be that the more relaxed I am, the better I flow. I can't flow if I'm nervous... and this is in both vocal and verbal rhyming context. Or any form of expression for that matter. Thanks for sharing and see you tomorrow.
April 1 at 4:11pm ·
Violet Lea ps
April 1 at 4:11pm ·
Violet Lea my favorite rhyme you did was, "I had my first threesome when I was twenty three... and it lasted till I was twenty four... cause it was my birthday and we did it all night..."
April 1 at 4:12pm ·
Violet Lea or something like that. damned enter key. I meant for all of this to be one message, split into paragraphs.
April 1 at 4:12pm ·
Marcus L. Williams I don't remember the exact words, so let's make up a new one. blah, blah, blah Had my first threesome when I was 23. 2 girls in the room, and then it was me, it lasted until I was 24, hey, it was my birthday, who could ask for more? I remember feeling so high that I didn't touch the floor, pick up in my step, what? Who you callin' whore?
April 1 at 4:15pm ·
Violet Lea i ejected my junk, i cummed on her trunk,
April 1 at 4:20pm · · 1 person
Violet Lea dammit
April 1 at 4:20pm ·
Violet Lea enter ke
April 1 at 4:20pm ·
Violet Lea ruined my flow
April 1 at 4:20pm ·
Kurtis Blo I really love how you broke it down in your note, very clear and descriptive... and of course the rhythm thats music, thats the flow...
April 1 at 4:36pm ·
Marcus L. Williams I ejected my junk, cummed on her trunk, went for the dunk, but the backdoor stunk. tried to krunk, with a wiggle and a bump. "no way, no how, are you entering my rump"
April 1 at 4:45pm ·
Violet Lea
she slapped it away, said i was mean,
checked my shit to make sure it was clean
went down on her friend and my teeth turned green
thought to myself, "this chick is a slut"
now she's baby momma cuz i didn't cover it up
always wear protection when ur bangin' a slut
....especially if it's on your birthday
April 1 at 4:53pm ·
Marcus L. Williams god I love women, so don't take me serious, the business I write is just expression of the curious. calling women slut, whore and tarts, is on the same level as midgets and cake farts. now, that is a birthday
April 1 at 5:10pm ·
Conor Barney Paddy Murphy
violet, to start a new line without sending your message. hit 'shift and enter'

see...

hopes this helps.

marcus... you're beautiful. i enjoyed reading that. see you all scratching around this weekend i hope. you're all nice. x

Korean Breakdancing World Championships

2010-07-07T19:14:00.000+09:00

Culture 101: Part 1

2010-07-01T11:45:00.000+09:00

I started writing about the differences in Korean and American culture and realized that the subject can fill volumes. This is Part 1 of the series.

When I decided to move from the United States to South Korea I thought I knew what I was doing. I had read about Korean culture in a variety of books and websites. I have been to a local Korean restaurant and tried several dishes to see if the food was pleasant to my palate. I researched many blogs of Americans and Canadians who live or have lived in South Korea and worked as English teachers. In fact, I was pretty proud of the knowledge I had acquired. Turns out that I had no clue as to what life really would be like.

First of all, let me say that I generally enjoy living in Busan. Working as an English teacher is not a bad job, and I earn a satisfactory amount of money for the work that I do. Please remember this as read my comments. My goal is not to complain about Korea or Korean culture. Instead, I hope to delve into some of the many differences I have noticed. My genuine belief is that being different does not make something wrong. At the same time, it is really hard to always understand an issue from the perspective of the Koreans I know. After all, I have not lived in Korea my entire life. So my views are constantly influenced by my personal history. Ok, this is probably enough introduction. So let’s just jump right in.

1. We are different

It sounds simple enough, but sometimes it is nice to remember this little tidbit of information. Personally, I think the primary difference between Americans and Koreans is the concept of self. For the most part, Americans have a strong attachment to our individuality. We are a “me” culture. Koreans tend to identify themselves by group rather than self. Want examples? Myspace. iPhone. Youtube. Easy enough, but it goes much deeper.

We move out of the family home usually around the time of high school graduation and go off to college. After college, I got my first apartment and eventually bought my own house. In Korea, people tend to live in the family home until they are married. It is not uncommon to see a 30 year old man living with his family. In fact, it is normal and is a large factor in group identity versus individual identity. I cannot begin to imagine how my life might be different if I lived at home until I was 30. As we explore the different ways that we view the world, give some consideration to this concept.

Going forward, I will simple point out the differences.

2. Personal Space

I define personal space in many ways. First, it is the invisible area around my actual body that is under my totalitarian control. If you breach the boarders of my space without an invitation, I am going to notice and usually not be happy about it. More specifically, my concept of personal space extends from my skin to a distance where I cannot smell you. Also, if we are having a conversation and a little bit of spit flies from your mouth as you say a word with a P or TH, the spit should not be able to land on me.

Korea

, I have found that the concept of personal space either does not exist. I get it. Korea has a tiny livable land mass and a lot of people. But I still don’t like being bumped into, shoved, or touched at random.

3. Food

I have found that most Korean people enjoy and eat most Korean foods. In fact, I rarely hear a Korean friend mention that they don’t like the taste of a specific local food. I think this is because food is considered to be part of the group identity. And no one wants to disrespect the group. It may be me or my American-ness, but the deciding vote in what I eat usually goes to my nose and tongue. Sometimes my stomach gets input on future meals. Accordingly, my concept of eating does not revolve around location and culture. If it tastes good, I will probably eat it. (insert whatever jokes you see fit). Now grow up.

Things I don’t eat: Mustard (allergic –makes me vomit on site and have trouble breathing), Mayo, black olives, eggs, sweet pickles, raw onions, most sweet sauces when applied to a savory dish.

Having a personal preference for certain tastes can be offensive to some Koreans because it could appear that you are rejecting their Group. There are many ways to deal with this difference. Some expats I know only eat western foods. Others, like myself, eat the things I like and don’t eat the things I don’t like. Sometimes I try to explain why and often I just ignore strange looks.

A side note to this: Personally, I love the taste of kimchi. I eat it often and sometimes crave it. Over the last 9 months, I cannot count the number of times that I have been asked by a Korean if I like kimchi. Yes. I like it. Stop asking. At the same time, I never eat the egg laden dishes in my school cafeteria. Remember, I don’t like eggs. But in this case, I get the same surprised look. “What, how can you not like eggs?”

4. Social Order

This topic is intense and deserves a separate essay, so I am only going to say a few words.

Korea

: Small country, many people, no personal space, live with family. In that setting, having a rules system about who out ranks who goes a long way in keeping the peace.

America

: Lots of land mass, many people, but spread out a bit. We get in the habit of doing what we want to do. Sure, we know how to follow rules, but when the rules seem to interrupt our personal goals, we examine the rules. Sometimes we break them. Sometimes we change them.

What happens when an American lives in Korea? First of all, you are not really part of the Group. So you don’t fit into the social order. In some ways it is a free pass. At the same time, a lot of conflict can be generated.

Notes: I prefer to use a person’s name instead of their job title, age derived position.

I don’t pretend that you are right because you are older than me.

2010-02-20T16:17:00.001+09:00

My first standup part 1

I have been writing again

2010-02-20T16:14:00.001+09:00

Tonight I will be performing poetry at the Wordz Only event in Busan. It will be my second time doing spoken word in Busan and I am a little nervous because all of the pieces are new. I am pretty sure that the event will be recorded so I will upload video soon.

2010-02-03T09:55:00.001+09:00

Monthly "HaHa Hole" Drawing Big Crowds at The Crossroads in PNU
Story and Photos by Mindy Sisco

2.03.2010

The "HaHa Hole" comedy event will once again hold its monthly show at The Crossroads in PNU this Friday the 5th of February
BUSAN - It's 9:50 PM and the location of the open-mic comedy event “HaHa Hole” has already been moved once to accommodate the eager masses. Every seat in the house of PNU’s Crossroads Bar is occupied and standing room is growing scarce. The host, American, Chris Tharp, takes the stage and the monthly open mic comedy show is underway.
"Haha Hole" is the fruit of Tharp's labors, and the most recent incarnation in a line of do-it-yourself comedy events in Korea. Five years ago Tharp participated in Busan's "Poetry Plus," which featured spoken word, but "Poetry Plus" lost steam and faded. Participants came and went, as is the nature of Korea's transient ESL masses, the organizers eventually lost their enthusiasm and the event became a thing of the past.
"Haha Hole", is in its fourth month. Featuring all amateurs, some, like Williams, are cutting their comedy teeth on Crossroads' makeshift stage. However, the laughs elicited by their material would never tell to this being their first time.
American, Marcus Williams, is not only a newbie to Korea, having been here only four months, but also new to doing stand-up. When asked about the status of his nerves when I talked to him before the show Williams turned to me and with a deadpan tone said, "I have a Cass and a cigarette."

American, Chris Tharp, host of the HaHa Hole comedy event
Ross Gardner of Scotland is on his second tour of duty on the ESL circuit and is riffing it up on stage from time to time as well. Other comedians include Brian Aylward who has done stand up in Hong Kong, India, and other Asian cities. Aylward filled the comedy void in his "home" city of Seoul by creating "Stand-Up Seoul" which gives amateur comedians in our sister city up north the chance to give their chops a try.
Unfortunately, this Friday's show will be done sans-Tharp, who is in the Philippines on a long holiday. He is probably laughing it up right now saying, "Those fools back in Busan are freezing their a**** off."
Taking Tharp's reign as MC this month is Roy Early. His dry wit is sure to cure the cold, along with the other comedians coming out.
“Haha Hole,” is a free event held the first Friday of every month at 10pm at The Crossroads in PNU. All are welcome, and all are encouraged to grab the mic and take the stage.

Dr. Fish

2009-10-13T12:53:00.000+09:00

Here is where you learn a little more about me. I hate my feet. I hate when the skin gets dry and cracked. I hate toenails. So, as any self respecting man who hates his feet does, I occasionally get a pedicure. No polish.

Well, this past Sunday a couple of my new Busan EPIK friends and I decided that we wanted to get our feet taken care of. What better way than to visit Dr. Fish.

Some of you will like this and others will be completely over come with the urge to vomit into your mouth. Dr. Fish is a coffee shop where you can order a cappiccino, eats some waffles, read a magazine, and stick your dogs into a tank with these little fish that eat necrotic flesh. That's right, I said it. They eat your feet. Actually, the fish don't have teeth. So they nibble away at the dry dead skin with their sucker shaped mouths. When they are done, you are left with a fresh new layer of healthy skin. Theoretically.

As you can see on your right, my feet are surrounded by this little fish. Was I scared? Not really. Freaked out maybe. The sensation feels a little like a low level electrical current moving over your skin. The freaking out happens when you actually think about what they are doing. Oh, and if you just look down.

Initially, my first response was to pull my feet out because it kind of tickles, um, tickles a lot. But I am in Korea now and plan to have as many new experiences as I can handle. Note to readers: next week I am going to get a Fire Massage.

So anyway, Hannah, Sarah, Jen, Michael and I all stuck out the hour and got our feel cleaned. Jen took a video but I don't know how to post a video to my blog yet. You can find it on my facebook page under links. Actually, let me see if this works. Dr. Fish video

Culture Shock, White Privilege, Coping

2009-10-13T11:23:00.000+09:00

If you have done any reading about life in South Korea for expats, then you have seen numerous bits and pieces about Culture Shock. For some people, the Korean culture is so foreign that they decide to pack it up and skip town. For others, the culture is just mildly irritating. Personally I don't really mind it too much and I have started to get an idea of the reasons.
Most expats who are teaching English in South Korea are of some sort of Caucasian decent. Whether they are from the US, Canada, South Africa, or the UK, they come from a life of being part of the majority culture. I don't give a lot of thought to race relations and interactions normally, but at a recent Pecha Kucha event in Charlotte, NC, a friend of mine gave a talk about the costs and obligations of what she calls White Privilege.
Most White people never have to give a moment's thought to white privilege because being in the majority means that you have the luxury of being accustomed to certain things. For example: not being stared at, not being ignored, not being given less rights, not being treated with disrespect, not being marginalized, etc. And since this lack of specific awkward behaviors cannot be accurately measured while you are in the majority, it is only when one moves to a very homogeneous country of Others when the transcendent layer of white privilege evaporates.
The resulting state of being in the minority can present itself as a form of culture shock. Don't get me wrong - the Korean culture is very different from what I knew back in the states. But it does not make it better or worse. It is just different. I mentioned before that I am having a great time here. Part of that is because I never had any illusions of privilege back home. Sure, I went to a good university and have worked for prestigious companies, but I have always been Black. And the coping skills I have learned as a Black man in the States is exactly the skill set one needs to survive in South Korea as an American.
Speaking of surviving, I want to give this piece of advice to my wonder expat friends who happen to be White. Get over it. You are not being lynched, burned, beaten, raped, or called derogatory names (well the last one might not be true, but since we don't generally speak Korean, how would we know what you are being called?) Things have a way of working out. Just realize that you are different and often times people equate different with bad. Once you understand that perspective, allow life to develop around you. Be true to who you are and let that speak for you. Given enough time you will find a comfort zone. Or at least a way to survive.
So, I have rambled on a bit. Note to readers: I am not a big fan of editing blog posts, so if you subscribe to my blog, you are mostly going to get stream of consciousness pieces. Occasionally I might have something really important to say and I will outline my thoughts, write cohesively, and pay attention to grammar and spelling. That is not today.

Real progressive trash policy

2009-10-06T22:34:00.000+09:00

South Korea has a pretty progressive trash collection policy. I can get my trash picked up on most days of the week. But it is not quite that simple. You have to methodically separate your trash. See the schedule below:

Sunday:        Food waste and regular trash
Monday:       Recycling - paper, plastic, and vinyl
Tuesday:       Food waste and regular trash

Wednesday: Recycling - can, glass
Thursday:     Food waste and regular trash

Friday:          No trash pick up
Saturday:     No trash pick up

If that was not interesting enough, check this. Food waste is put into a special container that allows the liquid to drain out and leave only the solids. Some people even separate stuff that is edible and leave it out for the stray dogs and cats.   When you take down your food waste, you put a special sticker on your container that you can buy from the local market. My market is about 40 meters from my apartment. So I go there daily to get the supplies I need.

Recycling can be put into any bag and left on the curb on the appropriate day. In order to dispose of your regular trash, you have to buy special bags at the local market. They are not expensive, but they are 3 or 4 times the cost of trash bags in the States. Instead of paying property or sales taxes to cover garbage collection, you pay for it when you buy these special bags. The bags are marked for you specific neighborhood. And since you are paying for the waste you produce, it is a very fair system. Also, there is no cost for the recycling.

The end result is you recycle everything that you can in order to minimize the volume used in your pay bags and food waste bin. How cool is that?

King Kong

2009-10-06T22:24:00.000+09:00

Today was a good day in class. I taught about 50% of the class and my Korean co teacher handled the rest. I only had third graders today and the topic was How Many Cows. We taught them how to count and distinguish animals. I know you are already bored and want to know why this post is called King Kong.

I only teach classes in the morning. Twice a week I have an afterschool session for students who need more intensive learning. There were only 5 students in the session today. At one point our computer broke down. I was chatting with the students and getting to know them. One of them said I look strong and grabbed my bicep. Before I knew it, I had decided to play King Kong and had one kid dangling from each arm. How I must appear like a giant to them.

I am already twice as big as the adult men in terms of mass. But surprisingly, there are a ton of tall Korean men in Busan. Some are taller than me. I expected them all to be short and 130 pounds. Don't get me wrong; there is a lot of that too.

Ok, no pictures of the kids dangling. I was using both hands.

Orientation

2009-09-30T17:47:00.000+09:00

As I sit at the desk in my new flat, I am realizing that writing a blog post about events that happened 3 or 4 days ago is kind of hard. That is to say that I have had so many experience in Korea already that it is hard to focus on one event or set of events and type in a way that is succint. So, I am just going to provide a short note and some pictures for this post.

On Sunday, me and the rest of the EPIK Additional Orientation folks had a packed day. We started the morning with a group field trip to the Kyungbokgung Palace and took a tour of the grounds. To say that this Palace compound was impressive would be such an understatement.

I really enjoyed the feeling I got while looking at the temple built in the middle of the pond. It was very peaceful.

Kimchi grilled with garlic and onions and Samgupsol (I probably spelled it incorrectly) was on the menu for lunch in Insadong. This is a very cool shopping and eating district in Seoul. We wandered into a little BBQ place on a side street. As we walked through the door we found ourselves strolling down an alley of sorts that had a winding stone courtyard lined with bamboo trees. The alley opened up to an interior courtyard where the rooms for eating where. We took off our shoes and sat down for quite a feast. No pictures. Sorry.

Watching my life

changing before my eyes

like a summer morning's fog

faded by the rising sun

Land of Calm

has me bursting with joy

Arriving in Seoul for Orientation

2009-09-30T17:23:00.000+09:00

This was originally a facebook note.

I landed in Korea on Thursday night after leaving the US on Wednesday morning. It seemed kind of weird because I never had a Wednesday night. The plane flew west and followed the daylight. I spent my first night in a nice hotel in Incheon. The cost was 90,000 won which is around $70. Really enjoyed the whirlpool tub!
Yesterday I was driven from Incheon to Seoul by a Call Van. The ride took about an hour. It is not that Seoul is far away from Incheon. It is just that Seoul is so big. Imagine NY city times about 2.5 - that is Seoul.
Speaking of NY, Seoul is a lot like NYC except 99% of the people are Korean. And there is a lot of neon.
There first day was just registration and free time. So I spent a good part of the day smoking cigs and meeting other teachers. Went to a traditional Korean restaurant for dinner and had an awesome kimchi soup with beef and tofu. Followed by some octopus paejun. What a treat!
A group of about 14 of us took the subway to Itaewon neighborhood and went to a TexMex place and had margaritas, 1500 ounce pitchers of beer - yes, I said 1500 ounce, soju, and Patron. At the end of two hours of drinking and dancing and laughing the bill was 7000 won a piece. Hmm, I think that is just under $6 or so. I still need to work on my conversions. In the meantime, I am following the Point and Pay method of acquiring stuff.
Note to self, learn Korean.
Orientation is being held at the National Institue for International Development. We had a 1am curfew last night which seemed to come too quickly. Before long, someone figured out the door to the roof was unlocked so we took the party there till around 3 am. Don't get me wrong, I am in Korea to work and learn and experience cultural exchange. But in the meantime, what's wrong with some serious fun?

Yesterday I forgot my camera. So there are no new pictures. I will take it with me today and add more photos soon.
Keeping it real since 1975, Marcus W.

Can I get a witness?

2009-03-11T01:52:00.000+09:00

Over the course of my life I have often felt slightly removed.
Slightly removed from people.
Slightly removed from places.
Slightly removed from things.
Slightly removed from the hear and now.

It has been a life long struggle to remain present and find connection. This may come as a surprise in that I have many wonderful friends and family who mean the world to me. But none-the-less, I am often a specator in my own life. That is until recently.

For what may be the first time in MY ADULT LIFE, I have felt connected to something larger and more meaningful than my next sensory experience. And I own it all to the various volunteers who came together to make Barack Obama our president. Of course his words and demenor are the unifying force, but it is the people. The People. The people who have made me feel alive.

My friend Shannon took a series of photos that have captured the essence of what I have been feeling yet not able to put into words.

A collective moment.

And while I still struggle to put into words what the last one and a half years have meant to me, I know that I am no longer a spectator.
I am a participant.

So I ask: Can I get a witness? I can no longer watch from the sidelines. The game is in play and I am on the field.

Multimedia message

2008-08-03T01:01:00.000+09:00

Me, Shannon and a buddy of his went and saw a Latin ska band last night. It was pretty cool.

Multimedia message

2008-07-25T03:31:00.001+09:00

Obama in charlotte

Multimedia message

2008-07-25T03:30:00.000+09:00

Howard Dean at Netroots 2008.