May 4, 2012

I was relieved and happy to see May and the girls running toward me when I got through customs.  Incheon airport is huge and very well organized; it has a subway system to get you around.  My luggage arrived intact except for the bran muffins, which I must have had a screw loose even to think of taking on a flight into the future.  In the Monty Python skit I saw ages ago, an English biker takes a fall and miraculously, the muffin in his backpack sustains no injury, but after being abused by baggage handlers from two airlines, mine were smashed flat and looked like very dense cookies by the time we unpacked them at Jay’s.  It was wonderful to hug the real him when he finally got home from school.  May, who’s a very good cook, made a delicious dinner, which we devoured because by this time it was around 10:00pm on May 2^nd for them and 6:00am on May 2nd for me. I had flown into the future and lost a day, but I’d found my family.

When you’re with the ones you love, even a place as distant and intimidating as Korea had seemed to be before I got here is home.  Although I don’t even approach feeling at home with the language.  My few pathetic phrases haven’t helped me in the least to solve the problem of getting money out of a bank with a debit card.  You’d think it would be easy enough, but in Jay’s part of Incheon very few people speak English; bank tellers are no exception.  Fortunately, Confucianism still seems to have an influence on people's public behaviour, and that has eased my confusion.  I’ve been helped twice by bank employees who looked as if they’d prefer not to get involved but who couldn’t let themselves ignore a woman of a certain age in distress.  Now I have one ton of won, over a million actually.  With the assistant manager's help and by tapping the options rapidly, Korean bank machines have no patience, the bills finally flipped out of the machine, in ten thousand won notes, a stack that was thicker than my paperback copy of War and Peace.  Fortunately, the teller instantly understood the dilemma and exchanged them for fifty thousand won notes, which lightened the burden of wealth. 

May and the girls get up early to go to school.  Jay and I rise a bit later.  We’ve had good long chats over coffee and squashed muffins at the table on the long balcony that goes the length of the apartment.  I joined him doing exercises on the first day; I was happy that we were working out in two different rooms because my routine is puny compared to his.  He does some domestic chores and then goes to school just after noon.  Aside from trying to get money out of the bank, I’ve gone both days for walks on the hill that is very close to the apartment.  The leaves are fully out in Incheon and the flowers that I first took to be azaleas and later discovered in my Korean guide book are the national flower of Korea, a type of Rose of Sharon, are everywhere in dense florescent bunches of orange, red, hot pink, mauve and white.  It’s warm, and the hills are dry and smell of the fallen pine needles that are crushed under the feet of the many people who walk the paths.  Most of the hikers seem to be about my age, although it’s hard to tell because they are completely covered for the activity.   Most wear long pants, long sleeved shirts, solid footwear and sunglasses.  Many of the women and some of the men even wear masks over their faces to keep the sun out.  They rival the Japanese tourists I saw last year in Hawaii for UV protection.  Some of them travel in groups, chatting while on the move and when sitting on benches to rest.  Others are alone and appear purposeful; all are completely covered.  Many of the women and some of the men even wear masks over their faces to keep the sun out.  They rival the Japanese tourists I saw last year in Hawaii for UV protection.  Consequently, I could hardly see let alone smile at or say hello to the people I passed.  When one man did make an effort to say ‘Good day’ to me, I got so flustered that I forgot one of the few Korean expressions that I do know and said ‘Ola’ back to him.

Jin Hee on the left with her friend and some azaleas

A view of Incheon from the hill

Another view to the north west, showing the long bridge connecting the airport to the city

Another view from the hill

Tomorrow is Children’s Day in Korea.  We’ll do whatever the girls want to do.  It should be fun.

May1, 2012, Off to Korea

It’s 8:35am on Tues., May 1, 2012, and I’m sitting in the observation lounge of the Vancouver Airport, one West Jet flight behind me and Korean Air flight #072 to wait six hours for.  I checked out the location of the Korean Air departure desk before asking an information officer where the best place would be to while away about four hours.  They don’t even open the Korean Air desk until 11:00, so I’ve even surpassed my Grandma Liddle for being ready and waiting long before departure time.  She used to sit in hat and gloves on the bench in our front hall for over an hour before we had to drive her to catch the train to Winnipeg.  The distance between Kelowna and Incheon is about six times what it is between Thunder Bay and Winnipeg, so a six- hour wait is relatively equal to her hour- long one, I guess. 

Mela’s visit was perfect.  By coming when she did, she forced me to pack and write lists of last minute things to do before she arrived on Thursday afternoon.  Consequently, we were both in a holiday mood for three days and I didn’t have time to fret about unnecessary details.  I wasn’t the best prepared hostess, but we worked together in the kitchen and car and managed to eat well ourselves, have Mo for dinner on Saturday and visit some sites and wineries with a modicum of missed roads.  We also managed to eat most of the perishable food in the house, so I only had about three potatoes, an apple and some bits of vegetable to take to Bert and Peggy’s.  We had a glass of wine with Jules and Carol and then went to a pub for dinner.  We were early to bed.  After the wine and some beer and an Asprin with lots of water to wash it all down, I slept well.  When the alarm shocked me from a warm sleep, I had a moment of inertia.  I didn’t want to leave all the comfort of my bed in the Okanagan and head into the unknown.  Even as I pushed off the covers and moved my legs toward the floor, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.  I felt a strong urge not to move at all.  When I finally got to the bathroom, I washed my face slowly and didn’t really feel alert until the cold- water rinse splashed into my eyes.  That gave me the jolt it always does, and I continued preparations at an almost normal speed.  Leaving Bert at the airport was not easy, but as soon as I began to pull the baggage cart over the bumpy tiles of the airport floor, I was jolted into life.  The excitement of the trip ahead gave me a lift.  Now I’m alert, taking in details and eager to see May and the girls at the airport in Incheon, and then, the thrill of seeing Jay again and giving him a big hug for the first time in almost two years.  Yahoo!  No more sleeps and no more Skype.  

I missed the Sunday blog for the first time in ages.  It was the third item for the day, and I couldn’t exceed the two-task limit.  The club hiked Cougar Canyon.  I volunteered to be the sweep again.  As we began, I wondered about the wisdom of it.  Snaking along the valley I had mental images of a huge cat following our progress and picking me as the last and weakest morsel in the line.  When you’re sweep you have more time to think than if you’re without responsibilities and can move up and down the line to talk to different people.  When someone did hang back and chat with me, I mentioned how I was giving myself a puny thrill by imagining a big cat eying me as a meal.  She pointed out the fact that the line of us was more like a telephone wire than anything else and that no cougar would salivate at the prospect of biting into such a buzzing prey.  It was true.  There were 39 hikers ahead of me.  We were more numerous and as talkative as the W.W.W.  As we began to climb, I no longer needed to entertain myself with conjured up threats.  I began to enjoy the exertion and was happy to quietly look up the sheer rock faces, down the steep canyon walls, across at other cliffs and along the canyon floor.  When I got home at 4:00pm, there was a message from Terry saying that his family theatre adventure was a success and he was back in Vernon.  I phoned him, he came over and we had beer and pickled eggs on the back deck.  It was my first outside drink of the summer season.  Then he took me to the local Chinese Buffet for dinner.  He came back for coffee, which we drank while sitting on my new futon in the sunroom, another first.  It was a good visit.  By then I was too tired to blog.m

Now I’m into the final stages of packing for Korea and looking forward to Mela’s visit.  I Skyped with Jay on Monday, as usual, and discovered more about some of the very real issues he is dealing with.  He and May seem to be working through them admirably, though, and I am eager to join them and have a whole month to live with them and the girls.  It sounds as if Jay has 2 excursions in the works, one for the first and one for the last weeks that I am there.  The rest will unfold as it will.  I just have to make it to Korea.  You know how after a plane crash there’s often a person interviewed on the television who tells a story of a lucky loved one who, for some reason or other, was supposed to be on that flight but missed it. Well, when Korean Air flight #72 out of Vancouver had a bomb scare and was guided back to Comox by two U.S. fighter jets the week before last, I thought my trip was jinxed.  That’s my flight.  I had already bought a second, West Jet, ticket from Kelowna to Vancouver to avoid an Air Canada strike and ensure that I would make it to the Korean Air flight on time.  Now that was under threat.  I told a friend the other day that if I go down on Korean Air flight 72, she can tell the reporters that I did my level best to be on that doomed plane. 

Me chatting with friends on a hike when I was not the sweep

The bridge from Kelowna to West Kelowna as seen from high point of the Rose Valley Reservoir hike

Mountain sheep on the side of the road on the drive home from the Rose Valley Reservoir

Blossoms on my Nanking Cherry

16 sleeps before Korea

I know I have adjusted to retirement because I’m not bothered by the fact that a couple of tasks I would have done in a period off between classes now constitute a days’ work.  Plus living alone has limited the number of things I actually have to do, so that I sometimes spread those two tasks over two days, lest I have nothing at all to do on some days.  Of course an aging body requires much more maintenance than a young one, so certain activities like walks, exercises, long baths, etc. now can be counted as tasks that justify getting up in the morning.  As my father used to say, “It’s a great life if you don’t weaken.” 

But this week I weakened.  It was Tuesday, and I was slowly drinking my morning coffee and preparing for the Ramble, when Randy from Swan Lake Nursery phoned to say he had finally found a kid to plant the cedar that would replace the one that had died.  He’d be here just after 8.  I was overjoyed because the alternative was taking out the dead one and planting the new one myself, but the hike was off.  All went well.  Then the phone rang.  Goret, the insurance broker we first contacted when we bought the house, was finally back at work after a bout with a bad back and could see me at 10.  Perfect!  After two hours with her I had renewed car insurance, car license and house insurance as well as bought travel insurance for Korea.  I had accomplished a weeks’ work in a morning and rewarded myself with a good walk.  I returned to find a note on the door informing me that Fed Ex had tried to leave a package.  I had been expecting one, but not quite so soon.  It was from Jay and contained my assignment to help him renew all his papers in order to stay teaching in Korea.  I was devastated. It was only 2 o’clock.  I could have gone immediately to FAX the requests for sealed transcripts to Lakehead U. and Concordia.  I snapped and foolishly tried to phone Fed Ex to see if I could intercept their delivery truck.  What a mistake.  I’ve never been good with automated telephone systems, and either I’m getting worse or this one is the one that’s been waiting for years to break me.  There was no possibility of just hitting 0 and talking to a real person.  I had to enter the 14 number delivery code and on and on.  I was trying for the third time to enter the code when, miraculously, I was connected to a real human being.  At first I was so shocked my voice came out in the same strident tone I’d been using to curse the machine, but I calmed down before the person hung up and slowly managed to convey my message.  The woman said she would try to contact the driver.  I had to postpone the tutoring session I was supposed to have so that I could await her call.  When she got back to me after about twenty minutes, it was to say that she hadn’t succeeded but that I could get the package at the main office on Airport Road near Kelowna at 8 the following morning.  All was fine.  I had my class late and picked up the package the following morning with no problems.  The FAXes were on their way by 9a.m. Thursday.  The week continued at this frenzied pace.  I’ve had my hair cut, seen the physiotherapist, bought all the pharmaceutical supplies I need for the trip on the seniors’ discount day at Shoppers’ Drug Mart, taken a tour of most of the many murals in Vernon and gone on the Sunday hike.  Now I’m going to kick back and enjoy a meal that I have about once a week, roasted pieces of chicken, yams and sweet potato, all done on one pan in a toaster oven.  

The view of Vernon, Kalamalka Lake and Terrace Mountain from the top of today's hike up East Hill. 

Spring Beauties are among the early wild flowers that are out now.

    

April 8 and Easter Sunday

Today’s hike was to Adventure Bay.  It’s the first one this year that has made me recall the sensations I had last spring on the first hikes with the club, when I thought they were a friendly but excessively fit group.  Now I feel at home with them.  My friends are there, and I can keep up with them.  My head was wet with sweat from the first ascent, but it’s always that way whenever I exert myself.  I don’t get nearly as winded as I did last year.  It was a jewel of a day, 15c with a sapphire sky above emerald pines, the ones that hadn’t succumbed to the pine beetle.  Either side of the path was strewn with trunks that had been cut to clear it.  The young deer were out near us and undeterred even by our babbling.  I’m home now at the computer with warm red cheeks and the calm I always feel after a walk.  I’m sure that the runner’s high must be wonderful, but as I could never push my body enough to attain it, I am satisfied with this feeling of peace. 

I discovered this week that when you buy cheap winter rims for your tires, they’re heavy.  I was able to carry the summer tires and their light aluminum rims up from the basement where I had put them last fall and lift them into the trunk.  But when I got home from Canadian Tire and tried to haul out one of the winter set I got a surprise.  I could just lift it to the edge of the trunk, dump it to the ground and then roll it into the garage/storage area by the parking spot.  Doing this four times constituted a real test of strength.  Talking of this garage/storage area makes me remember that another thing I did this week was screw the ‘Jim’s Eccentricity’ sign that Gene Marquis made for Jim when he finished the sauna on the Gatineau River to the door of said space.  I had brought the sign with me but couldn’t think of where to hang it until this idea struck me.  I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier because I can’t imagine a more eccentric piece of property than this one, and Jim was absolutely undeterred by its weirdness.  That garage/storage area is the middle third of one long building, either side is owned by the adjacent back neighbors.  Only our third has drive-through doors.  I use the whole space for storage and gardening tools, but if I wanted to I could use it as a garage and exit on to 25^th Street because we have an easement in perpetuity between the two back neighbors’ lots.  We also have an easement in perpetuity through the parking lot of the house next door and on to 32^nd Ave.  This is the route I use because I don’t need a garage in this climate and the parking area we have is big enough for about four cars.  That and driving to Kelowna to get the spring check up at the Mazda dealership and have lunch with Bert and Peg were the highlights of this week.   

A male quail.  They're so common that the locals pay no attention to them, but I laugh every time I see them darting around.  

View of Lake Okanagan from above Adventure Bay.  In the distance is Terrace Mountain.  Nobody here plants their garden until the snow is off that mountain.

There was just a bit of snow left on the trail today

   

Local news and colour

You can’t call Vernon a cultural backwater.  This week has been book-ended by Hollywood and Bollywood.  The film society showed ‘A Most Dangerous Method’ on Monday.  Admittedly, it’s after the Oscars, but at least it’s within the year.  I wasn’t wild about it, but as with all David Cronenberg movies, there were moments when it made my skin crawl, and I like that sensation.  I sometimes find Keira Knightly a bit tick-ridden, but for this role, as Sabina Spielrein, she was perfect.  She went well beyond ticks to violent, chin-thrusting contortions.  I was relieved when Jung finally gave her the beatings she needed.  I left the theatre relieved that my psyche is relatively untroubled.  As for the Bollywood, that was in Polson Park today as part of a celebration welcoming Rick Henson to Vernon.  As is usual at these city events, much of the entertainment was provided by the local ‘ethnic’ communities.  This time the most colorful were the dancers from the Punjab, at least as far as I saw.  Mo and I stopped by after the hike because some of the people in our adaptive skiing group were putting on a display.  But we were cold and hungry, so we went to my place for a bowl of soup and then to hers for a hot tub.  The hike was good but it was raining a bit as we gathered, and although the sun came out later, it never got hot and I never got dry.

As for local news, a teacher who was accused of sexual impropriety involving one of her 12 year-old students was found not guilty at the end of her second trial this week.  This time she went before a judge because in the first trial the jury could not reach a verdict.  As a result of all this, I had a lively discussion with one of the women I sort library books with.  As a retired social worker who worked with abused kids, she was on the side of the boy, and I as a retired teacher was giving the benefit of the doubt to the teacher.  The other women stood around and let us go at it.  Eventually we withdrew to our corners and threw in our towels with no clear winner.  Not, as in Ottawa this week, where Justin Trudeau T,K.O,ed his opponent in their farcical fisticuffs.   And Stephen Harper appears to be as eager to get to Korea as I am.  He seems to be pretty single mindedly pushing some of our natural resources at the Orient while leaving the rest of the environment to the bleeding hearts who are funded by Americans whose secret agenda is to undermine our economy.  I’m not sure that I even get the connection, but something about this makes me think of the joke about the patient who goes to the doctor to see if he can cure his cold.  The doctor says, no, but that he should come back if it develops into pneumonia because that he can cure.  

A dead pine with moss covered stumps of branches that looked like young antlers, but green.

A huge ant hill at the base of the dead pine

Bollywood comes to Vernon.  I especially loved the little girl in yellow on the far left who was very focused on doing it right but whose face broke into the most wonderful smile when she caught one of the other girl's attention.

The boys were less numerous, but most were equally enthusiastic.

Firsts

I’m just back from the first hike of the season with the Vernon Outdoors Club.  I felt mixed emotions as I made lunch, filled the water bottle, gathered my gear and walked down to meet the others at the City Hall parking lot.  I’m still here.  A second season is beginning.  Is this really where I live?  It’s still too soon to think about all that, but it was good to see the faces I remembered, many of whom I hadn’t seen since my Christmas party or before.  I drove with Donna and George to Predator Ridge where the hike began.  It was a beautiful day, warm but not too, some sun and some overcast, an easy 4 hour walk, stopping to look at small flowers along the path or lakes in the distance and chatting with different people from time to time. 

Yesterday I got out my new bike for the first ride of the spring.  There were the usual season-opening glitches.  The tires were a bit flat; I couldn’t find my biking gloves. What about my shoulder?  Did I really want to go?  I found Jim’s pump that you plug into the car lighter.  The instructions were in the battered box.  The PSI was written on the tire rims.  I blew up the tires, and the pride of accomplishment I felt erased all my hesitations.  I was off.  Without the push from the outdoors gang, I’m pretty wimpy, so I rode for about 2 hours, but on the flats, which is hard to do in Vernon.  As I walked to the hike this morning and found one of the tops for the tire inflation ‘thing’ in my pocket, I felt a bit deflated.  My pride had been premature, but it had got me going.  I was sobered the other morning too when I had to search for the house keys before going downtown and finally found them in the back door where they had been all night.  I have wasp spray by the bed and bear spray in the front cupboard to fight off intruders and then I leave the keys to car and house in the back door.  If I were a Roman Emperor, I would not need to have a slave standing behind me in my chariot whispering in my ear, “You’re only human.”   The fact is made obvious to me almost every day.  The bright side is that although Jim is no longer here to laugh at my foibles and help me, I have family and friends who do.  And increasingly, I laugh at myself.  This reminds me of the lines from Leonard Cohen’s song, ‘Anthem”

            “There is a crack in everything

              That’s how the light gets in.”

            

The raising of a new hydro pole outside my house this week

At this point it was beginning to remind me of the coming of Easter

Lake Okanagan, the first stop on my first bike ride

Lake Kalamalka, the second stop on the ride

Hiking on Predator Ridge

Lake Okanagan from Predator Ridge