A Rant and Roses

Happy Canada Day!

I’m finally taking a stand against the irritating overuse of the word ‘icon’ and all its derivatives with the exception of ‘iconoclast’.  I began to be annoyed by its use months ago when I unpacked the first of many Emails that I have since received.  The confidently pious wording assumed that it was being read by a person whose outrage would equal that of the sender.  It informed me that the ‘iconic’ words, “God keep our land” in the Canadian National Anthem were under threat of being replaced.  I should join the 85% of Canadians who were against this.  Like so many of the Emails that either drip saccharin sentiment or assume right thinking, it ended with a near threat that if I didn’t share its views and forward it to every person I could think of I would suffer.  I deleted it and didn’t think about it again until I got another.  I snapped.  Iconic!  I spent my whole youth singing “We stand on guard for thee”, a few too many repetitions perhaps, but at least there was never any appeal to a deity to save the land. Or was I wrong?  I was driven to Google it.  Yes!  God only entered the scene in 1968 when the Pearson Government made “O Canada” the official national anthem, after changing a few words on the advice of a committee.  So that committee created an ‘icon’.  I didn’t like the addition of god in 1968 and I still don’t.  It seemed like a thoughtless copying of the U.S. anthem.  I also don’t like prayer circles before athletic events, but I digress.  I know that the word ‘icon’ is used all the time now in its computer context, but it’s being thrown around in association with moustaches and words that were added to anthems by committees that were struck in my lifetime irks me.  That’s my rant for the week, but I know that the word ‘icon’ will continue to jump out at me and give me a little frisson of fury every time it does.  When Jim was around, he got riled up enough for both of us.  As the years went by, I sometimes thought to myself that I had been very attracted to an angry young man but I wasn’t so sure if an angry old man would have the same appeal.  But now that I’m alone, I find I can’t live without a bit of irritation, a bit of the Bill Needles.  I have to get riled on my own.  It’s invigorating, up to a point. 

The rest of this blog will be roses because I did very little other than extreme gardening this week.  My many absences combined with the amount of rain we’ve had this spring turned the yard into a weed bed.  It’s good Jay gave me the hand and lower-arm- strengthening thing for my birthday because I’ve been using it and  I’ve needed every bit of muscle I have in that area to pull out the thousands of weeds.  I now have a plan to cover the pathways and bare spots that I’ve cleared with newspaper and then mulch so that I never have to do this again.  The idea is similar to the lasagna garden that Caroline made with such success.  I hope it works. 

When I’m sick of weeding, I stand up, stretch and look at the roses.

Friends

It’s with a mixture of guilt and self-congratulation that I admit I did not go on today’s VOC hike.  I haven’t missed one that I was home for since I joined the club.  My list of excuses is too long and boring to get into, but suffice-it-to-say that I am happily at the laptop after enjoying a slow breakfast, a tall Korean/Canadian coffee and a read of ‘The Walrus’.  In case you’re interested, the coffee is made by adding one of the individual cup tubes of dry instant coffee, powered milk and sugar that I became addicted to when I stayed with Jay and May in Korea to my usual morning café au lait. May insisted that I bring some home.  In fact, she would have had me load my suitcase with them and a free set of glass food containers that came with the huge box she  hadbought for me.  When I am forced to go back to my sugar-free regime, I will regret not having done what she urged.  For the moment, the little tube has sweetened an otherwise very grey and wet Vernon morning.

We have had so much rain that the roses are bent over with the weight of their wet flowers.  Some of the flowers and even the buds are turning brown before they fully open.  Last Monday as the ferry pulled into Tsawwassan there was a long, clear line way out from shore marking the edge of the muddy water flowing from the mouth of the swollen Fraser River and the clear dark waters beyond.  By now, the Fraser is flooding in Chilliwack and elsewhere and we’re still getting rain.  I was wakened at 11:44 pm last night by a rattle of thunder that gave me a start; I thought it was someone trying to get in the door.  For the first time since I bought it, I reached for the can of wasp spray beside my bed that Marg convinced me to buy over a year ago.  I wonder what its shelf life is.  At least its presence gave me a moment’s calm during which I determined that what I had heard was thunder.  Yesterday morning I biked with Mo and John to Armstrong for breakfast.  I almost finked out on that too because it was wet and cloudy at 7:30 am and rain and thunder were predicted, but Mo was optimistic.  I’m glad I let her convince me because the ride there was great, except that I’m out of biking shape and had to walk up one hill in spite of riding my new bike.  After a big bacon and egg feast, we walked around the Armstrong market with our bikes and then headed back to the cars.  Had we not wandered in the market, we might have missed the deluge, but as it was we got soaked and I walked up another hill, not a raging success, but I’m glad we got outside for something other than weed pulling because today looks like a complete insider.  Thank goodness I’m only ½ way through Ann Patchett’s State of Wonder.  It’s a great story.

 Writing of how Mo influenced me to my advantage yesterday makes me think of how all my life I have been lucky to find and careful to keep good friends.  This has been on my mind since Paula and I were in a shop in China Town in Victoria on our last visit with my parents.  Paula is a great shopper, and I, as usual, was happy to be with someone who is at ease in stores because then I don’t have to be my usual nervous self, worried that someone will ask me what I’m looking for.  I’m unwilling to part with a dollar (I would even have said cent but the mint will soon not be printing them anymore).  I’d rather leave the store than admit that I’m not looking for anything.  I’m always convinced that there’s really nothing I want unless I’m shopping with a person like Paula.  Then the pressure is off me; I wander untroubled and discover that there are great things to buy.  I sometimes actually purchase something.  I even talk with clerks.  This time I joined Paula, who was buying a few rings as part of what she referred to as ‘shop therapy’, in a discussion with the exotic-looking woman who owned the store.  She was an ex contemporary dancer and lifetime studier of astrology.  She, Paula and her husband had just discovered that they were all Virgos.  I was the outsider, a Gemini.  She gave me a wary look and said that Gemini can be easily influenced and led astray.  I instantly replied that I knew that and had always been careful about choosing the people I stayed close to because of it.  I surprised myself by the rapidity and definitiveness of my response, although quick unconsidered responses are another of my characteristics.  But I would never have put it that way before.  I have thought about it since that encounter and continue to do so.  The course of my life has in many ways been determined by a decision to either cultivate or not the friendship of certain people.  I’ve spent 66 years honing this skill, and as I think about the friends I have, I consider myself nearer to being an expert in it than in anything else.

Mom and dad at Spinnaker's Pub in Vic West, where we celebrated my birthday and Father's Day with Barbara and Terry.

Barbara and Terry at Spinnaker's Pub

Me on last Tuesday's hike, wearing the camel pack Jay gave me for my birthday.  

June 16, 2012

It’s Saturday, June 16, two weeks since I left Incheon.  When I look at my watch, I still sometimes calculate what time it is there and imagine what Jay, May and the girls might be doing.  It’s about 2pm here, so it’s 6am on Sunday morning there.  They will be sleeping, some of them snoring.  I’m relaxing and writing in Barbara and Terry’s flat in Vic. West.  At around 4, I will drive to mom and dad’s place for dinner.  I took Bill and Paula to the airport to catch their plane back to Thunder Bay at 10:30 this morning.  Tomorrow mom and dad are going to take Barbara, Terry and me to a pub for lunch to celebrate my 66^th birthday.  In Korean my age will be, ‘yuk ship yuk’.  

Bill, Paula and I had lots of laughs in Korean this holiday, especially after a bit of beer or wine and when we were hiking on Galiano and Salt Spring Islands.  We referred to each other as ‘ajjashi’ for Bill and ‘ajama’ for Paula and me.  I know my spelling is wrong, but we had the pronunciation pat by the time we got back to the ‘Big Island’, which is the name the locals give to Vancouver Island.  I had brought both my bikes to Victoria, but only Bill used one of them once.  From the moment we arrived on Galiano, we hiked.  Among us we had enough aches and pains to use as excuses for not biking, and it didn’t take us long to justify this decision by saying how inestimably better it was to walk through the wonderful rain forests looking at slugs and snails and to climb up to spectacular cliffs and lookouts than to ride on roads up exhausting hills.  We did get to great lookouts.  When we arrived, we climbed up Mount Galiano and ate lunch at the high point looking out over ocean, islands, boats and a couple of bald eagles.  Some turkey vultures feasted on what was left of our chicken. Our first B and B was at the north end of the island.  We drove through wetlands, got lost and were not in the best moods when we arrived at it, but after a gin and tonic, some pickled herring and Salt Spring goat brie, on the deck of the neighboring cabin, overlooking the ocean and other islands, we had no complaints.  Because we stayed there, we were able to walk to Dionisio Point, an amazing rocky point at the north end of the island that is supposed to be approached only by boat.  We spent 2 nights on Galiano, met some locals and frequented a local pub, The Hummingbird. Then we went to Salt Spring Island where we found, after a considerable search, a B and B run by 2 gay guys from California and their numerous ducks and geese, one of whom was recovering in a big dog-carrying case after being attacked by a mink.  They had spent a lot of money for its treatment at the vet’s, but from the sounds of its loud honking, it was well worth it.  There were also 2 deer, a fawn and a rabbit on the place, to say nothing of the millions of tent caterpillars.  All the islands are plagued by them this year.  We relaxed in the hot tub and watched the wildlife.  Again, we found a good pub, ate local mussels and oysters, drove and walked to see some spectacular views and enjoyed each other’s company.

 We returned to Victoria to visit with the parents, celebrate the occasions that had brought us together originally, mom’s 91^st birthday and their 70^th anniversary, and continue working through what became the central focus of the whole time, mom and dad’s dilemma about when and where to move into assisted living.  They are both frail now, especially dad.  Nothing was decided, but a good deal of steam was released.  By talking about it, thinking and talking again, we now have a clearer idea of what each of us can do to make their transition from the independence they love to the help they will soon require as successful as possible.  They’re still not quite ready, but they now see that the time is fast approaching.

Along with the many weeds that awaited me in the garden there were these colourful iris.

Mom and dad in the new jackets I brought back for them from Korea

Bill in the 'ajjashi' vest and Paula in the 'ajama' hat that I brought them from Korea.  The vest inspired Bill to strike a modified yoga pose. 

Bill and Paula at the spot on Mount Galiano where we ate our lunch

Me with Bill at the same place in the same hat.

Me in one of the sculpted rocks on the shore at Dionisio Point

Bill and Paula among the ferns and tall firs on the path to Dionisio Point

On the plane back to Canada

It’s 7:20pm Korean time on Friday, June 1, and we have been in the air for about ten minutes.  I chose to watch the sky map on my television screen.  It showed our little plane heading scarily close to the border with North Korea, but then we veered west out over the Yellow Sea and turned south before heading back east over the waters just south of Incheon.  We are now on our way to Vancouver.  The fact that most amazes me is that after leaving Korea at 7:10 local time on June 1, I will arrive in Kelowna at 3:45 local time on June 1.  I’m in a window seat, which I chose so that I could have a last look at Incheon for about 10 minutes after takeoff and then see the area around Vancouver for about 5 minutes as we approached for landing.  My first sight of Incheon was of its spreading sand flats traced in winter tree shapes by the receding waters at low tide, and that is what I saw again today as we flew out.  Having seen the statue of General Mac Arthur in Jeju Park in Seoul, followed the story of his Incheon landing in the Korean War Museum in Incheon and now actually seen the vast shallows of the shoreline at that point, I can appreciate why it took a lot of convincing on his part to get the others to finally accept the idea of landing there to cut off the supply lines of the army from the north which had pushed the south down to near Pusan.  In the time I have written this, we have flown to the mid point of the Sea of Japan, what the Koreans refer to as the East Sea as they refuse to accept any encroachment of even the name Japan on their territory.  We are heading to the west coast of Canada.

 I saw the white moon, about 2/3 full in the pale sky just before everything became shrouded in cloud.  I’ve been watching that moon grow since I first saw it as an orange toenail clipping from Jay’s porch where I sat with Min-Hee just over a week ago.   It was very hard to leave Jay and his new family; we lived together so easily.  All was not always smooth, but when you think that we didn’t even know each other until I arrived, we did well.  I am looking forward to the peace and quiet of my solitary life in the little house in Vernon and to making my own plans and being with my friends, but I will miss my morning talks with Jay, watching the girls dance and listening to them sing, although sometimes the endless repetition of certain songs either sung or played on the recorder or piccolo made me wish I were deaf, and eating with May, either the food she made or at the restaurants she chose, and I know that I will think of them every time I look at my watch, calculate what time it is in Korea and think of what they must be doing.  Jay, May and the girls gave me an early birthday party with presents and the first ice cream cake I’ve ever had.  I was completely surprised and sadly happy.  When the girls came in to say goodbye this morning and then I said goodbye to May, I was really moved and sorry to be leaving them.  Jay helped me get my luggage to his school and Dave’s wife Jo drove me to the airport. I was sad to leave Jay at the door of his school, but I ‘m happy that now I know where he works and lives, how he gets to work, the rooftop garden where he takes his breaks and who he works and lives with.  His friends in Korea are good people; they all helped to make my visit a wonderful one.  I had thought about this trip for ages and dreamed up enough possibilities to fill many moons, but, as usually happens to my best laid plans, many of them were replaced by better things that just happened because of who I was with and what seemed to be the right thing to do at the time.

Our family trip to Seoraksan National Park was a combination of all of the above.  It was the park I had most wanted to visit, and we went as an extended family.  May’s brother and his Korean girlfriend Ines joined us.  She had found us one of the last remaining pensions in the area.  It seems that most of Korea is on the move on Buddha’s birthday weekend.  Because of all the traffic, the bus trip on Saturday morning took 6 hours to go about 250km.  Fortunately, the bus was really comfortable and we were tired after getting up at 6:00 am, so slept a bit.  The first thing we did in Sokcho was to shop for food.  Then we got a taxi to the crazy little place that Ines had found.  It was perfectly placed between the seaside town of Sokcho and Seoraksan National Park and overlooking rice paddies.  Jay finally figured out that the tubular part of the place had been an enormous water tank, about 18 feet long.  This had been attached to a perfectly square little building that was stuccoed on the outside and had a flat roof surrounded with a castle-like trim.  It had a traditional Korean ondal floor, made of yellow sand covered with long layers of a type of linoleum.  Ondal floors are soft and when heated at night, very comfortable to lie on.  You just lay mats on it, cover yourself with quilts and all sleep together.  There was even a traditional squared log pillow, but they opted for the pillows we are used to which were also provided.  I, as the grandma, got to sleep in the bedroom in the tubular part on a real bed.  I was joined at times by someone who slept on the soft benches in the kitchen because the snoring of others kept them awake.  We used the usual Korean array of flipflops: ones for outdoors, others for indoors and yet others for the bathroom.  Traditional Korean bathrooms are wet.  They have a drain in the floor and the shower in a corner so that when someone takes a shower, much of the room is soaked.  It works well as long as there are always sandals there to put on as you enter.  Sometimes you have to dry off the toilet seat before sitting on it.  We had dinner in Sokcho on Saturday and a barbecue on Sunday that Jay turned into a campfire.  The girls loved collecting wood for it.  It was their first campfire, and we kept it going late with branches the owner of the place had put aside as he had cleared land for his garden of peppers and corn.  We had a great hike on Saturday in Seoraksan National Park and on Sunday played on the beach and walked around the town until we caught our bus at 4:30.

The last days of my visit were spent finally shopping for things to give people who had been so kind to me during my stay and for friends at home.  I actually enjoyed doing it because I went to a big market area in Seoul.  Another day, Dave took me and Jay to the Korean War Museum in Incheon and then to have a delicious lunch in Chinatown where I ate, among other things, the noodles with black bean sauce that were the staple food of the Chinese workers who built much of the port of Incheon.  Andy and his girlfriend took us on a drive and out to dinner at a wonderful seafood restaurant.  Watching all the ingredients of the seafood soup we ate be professionally cooked and cut by the waitress was as entertaining as the food was delicious.  Koreans eat things from the sea that I had never heard of or seen before.  I can’t recommend all of them.  Many are so chewy that they make squid seem soft.  The thing is that squid when it’s fresh, as it was in every dish I ate in Korea, is very tender, but some of the other stuff is not.  Some bits are even meant to be chewed on and sucked and then put aside.  But the soup itself and the side dishes were delicious.  The rice that is heated later in the big pot with what’s left of the liquid is so good that I was sorry it came at the end when I was full.  However, we carried on, and, as the meal took about 2 hours and the eating was interrupted often by cheers and the downing of soju, I managed to enjoy a satisfying amount.

I think Korea might be what it is now advertising itself as, ‘The best kept secret in Asia.’   

Jay at the door of our pension at Seoraksan National Park

Jin-Hee and May by the paddy fields below the pension

Jay and Min-Hee waiting for tasty cinnamon buns being made in a market in Sokcho.

The gang getting ready for lunch before starting the hike at Seoraksan.  

Jay and I in front of the Buddha at the base of the hiking trail

Jay at our resting place just below Heundeulbawi, the big standing rock by a Buddhist temple that is the  first sight on the trail.

Some of the 888 metal steps that you climb to get to the top of Ulsanbawi.  I turned back and finally we all did about 3/4 of the way up.  We weren't tired, just overwhelmed by the steepness of the drop and the fact that we were on man made metal steps  that had many many people on them.  We had heard 2 claps of thunder about 10 minutes before starting the steps.

The view I snapped just after turning around to head down.  The guys are on a ledge in the steps below me and behind and below them is nothing.

Jay when we cooled our feet on the way down

Jay, May and Min-Hee at the barbecue/campfire

The little ferry in Sokcho that is pulled by a man and anyone who wants to help across a narrow strip of water to an island

Jay at the Incheon landing

Incheon War Memorial

A crazy ride at an amusement park on the beach in Incheon.  It would never be seen in North America because it's too dangerous, but it's a riot to watch if you ignore that fact.  The man who controls the ride keeps up a commentary as he spins and bounces the kids (no adult would dare go on it) all over the place.  They fly in the air screaming, land on the floor and try to crawl back to their seats.  There are actually seats for the spectators.

Andy's girlfriend Judy at the seafood restaurant.  The gloved hands are those of the expert waitress who cut up and presented all the seafood.  The grabbers and scissors are an essential part of any Korean dinner whether its seafood or a meat barbecue.