A few of weeks ago, when I tweeted I was undergoing a job interview in Korea, I got a response from Dave of The Longest Way Home about doing a post on ‘Surviving a job interview in Korea’.

At first, I laughed at the idea and then later, I thought…well, why not? 

“K******** University wants you to contact them ASAP about a job position. Please call them; they are a very good university.”

That was the message I got from Eun-Hyung, my Korean co-teacher, last April in India.  It was a university job I had applied for long before I left Korea. The position started March 1st and it was for a full-time lecturer in the Media Arts department, teaching Video and Animation. At the time however, my commitment was travel and my Yoga TTC program, so I’d written them to keep me in mind for future openings.

They did.

But when you’re hobbling solo through India with dust, heat and craze at your back, the last thing you want to respond to life beyond traveler’s overwhelm. Reluctantly, I dropped the ball.

This past November rolled around and the university contacted me, again.  This time, by email.  There had been many candidates vying for the job; but they were looking for the right person.  They were convinced I was the one.

This time, the timing was perfect.

Can you get a  job teaching something besides English?

Most foreigners in Korea teach English.  As a foreigner, getting a job offer to teach a specialty aside from English is unlikely.  Not impossible. It’s just not a job that you’ll find commonly posted for non-Koreans. Finding a position, which allowed me to teach my skill of expertise (video & media arts) was a rare instance. I’d still be teaching in English in a way, but as a prerequisite studio course the focus was split.

What makes a good candidate?

I won’t profess to know what makes a good candidate for a university job, since I already failed two university job interviews. Could be appearance, qualifications, degree background or whether you can balance a ball on your nose. With my recruiting university, their “right candidate”, fell order like this:

•  1.  The ‘right’ schooling (my graduate school in the U.S. was known and well-aligned with their school)
•  2.  Impressive career background (I had a background in Television, Video Production and the Arts)
•  3.  A year’s experience of teaching in Korea
•  4.  A fantastic phone referral from my co-teacher.

What happens on your first interview with a Korean college?

For Korean colleges, the first interview is to win department approval. But when Korea’s not sure if they want you, they make you jump through the hoops of ‘song and dance’.  You gotta sell yourself.

Here’s some of the things I’ve had to do for other colleges:

1. Prepare and perform a 5 minute lesson plan for a mock class (you may or may not advance notice for preparation)
2. Interview in-person.
3. Be ready to answer questions, such as: 

Why you want to teach English in Korea?
Why you think you’d be a good candidate if your background isn’t in teaching or English? 
How would you handle a class in which some students know absolutely no English?
How would you deal with students who are unmotivated to learn?

How do universities interview you when you’re their favorite candidate?

When Korea knows they want you, it’s like being recruited as a star athlete. No tryout or audition. You don’t have to sell them on why you should get their vote. They already know. 

Thus, I was able to do a Skype interview with the department and was given one question.  The next day I received an email acceptance letter, then handed to the administration office for the process of collecting extra documents such as proof of work, credits, etc…

Rather than be cocky however, a year in Korea conditioned me to err on the side of safety. With Korea, there are many “surprise reveals” at the last-minute.

How to read when Korean universities are silent?

Westerners have a tendency to think of silence as a sign of ‘disinterest’.  For Koreans, silence is like waiting at a traffic signal. At any moment the light could turn green, so you keep your foot hovered over the gas pedal.

For some time, all was quiet. Aside from knowing I was their favorite candidate, I didn’t know much else, about my competition or the position. Salary, housing, vacation time, hours of in-class teaching vs studio time, extra responsibilities of the department… the terms of employment weren’t given to me nor was I receiving answers for my query.

An email arrived on January 3rd stating that my second interview would take place on January 12th with the head of the university… in Korea. Five or six other candidates were CC’d on the email, as well. This was my first time making it to the second round. 

Wait. Rewind.

Interview in Korea?  …In 9 days?!

A round trip ticket to Korea, hotel and transportation… all paid for by the university.

Life was moving faster than I could digest it. Free trip to Korea? I felt weighted. I still didn’t know the terms of employment and within that pocket of silent wait, doubt entered my mind and I drafted alternate plans for 2012. Really good ones! A speedy return to Korea was starting to lose its focus. I was starting to feel dazed by my surrounding decisions.

Knowing I may ultimately need to change my dates, I booked a flight with Korean Airlines. I’d used them before and had to change my flight, so I know their service is top-notch. They won’t charge you a fee if you have to change your flight! No change fees, free in-flight meals, individual TV sets, great hospitality plus two free luggage check-in pieces! Airlines don’t get any better than Korean Air!

When I stepped off the plane, two curious-looking gentlemen greeted me– Prof T.H.L.  a young, quirky-looking video professor, fluent in English and Professor P., a kind and soft-spoken professor and head of the department. Tired from the long flight and lack of sleep, I mustered the enthusiasm for a greeting.We chatted in the car; and I realized they were immediately likeable.

The two men drove me to The Prince Hotel to check in. They walked me to my room, then bid me a goodnight, informing me they’d come to pick me up for the interview in the morning.

The second interview: meeting the President

One of the most prestigious universities in the city, the first campus was impressively large and upright. As one of the top ten most beautiful colleges in Korea and film location of K-drama Boys over Flowers (it was the elite high school, where the top 1% of the wealthiest Korean families attend), it definitely earned its model ranking. It’s red brick western style buildings stood regal, commanding a sophisticated academic presence, reminiscent of an Ivy league college. With soft rolling hills and tightly manicured lawns, the campus held a distinct air of brevity and sunshine. A practically squealed in my seat, driving through it!

We drove up to the President’s building. It stood tall, quiet, intimidating, academic.  I entered the office, flanked by my two department guardians. Foreign candidates of other departments, filtered into the waiting room, wearing razor-sharp suits; each, accompanied by a Korean professor or dean from the hiring department. A Berliner sat next to his Korean attendant for the German department, a Filipino woman sat in wait next to her Korean counterpart for the nursing department…

Then it occurred to me… this interview was IT. I was IT and the only. And there were no backup candidates to replace me if I decided not to take the job. This interview was for each department to get Presidential approval!

Inside the president’s office, the nerves melted away my surroundings. Separated by a long wooden table, three distinguished Korean men sat across me. The president looked like a Korean Roger Moore. Dignified. Neither smiling nor frowning. 

What was my career experience previous to teaching?

What was my proudest career achievement?

Why do I like Daegu?…

Frankly, I’m bad at job interviews. I don’t give smart answers. I give honest ones and my brain was like a waffle… solid, but spongy with very shallow potholes. I was sure I made a bad impression.  After my interview, Professor P disappeared in to the President’s Office. In five minutes, he emerged victorious. I got the job and the two professors whisked me off to celebrate the victory with a sushi lunch!

Finally, the Terms of Employment

Usually, knowing your salary and benefits comes before the last interview, but meeting with the administration was our next stop.  There, the head administrator laid out the terms before me. They were sparkly. Great salary, paid vacation of 3 months, 4 weekly classes, free housing, a requirement of one annual solo exhibition of my work for teacher’s performance. Paving a road to a career in academia came with a handsome package…

If I chose to take that road.

 Meeting with the department staff

The following week I was still in Korea, so I was invited to meet the department staff. Four male professors welcomed me in the faculty lounge and gave me a grand tour around the Media Arts building. We ended with a friendly chat over coffee at a café. This introduction was different from my first welcome to Korea. I really experienced that Korean hospitality I used to hear others talk about.

Everything in the picture appeared perfect!  A prime job at a university, working alongside cool co-teachers, my very own office (with a door), inspiring future artists as well as, developing my own work towards a solo exhibition. It wasn’t Seoul, but maybe that wouldn’t matter. My ideas were racing with lightning speed and excitement. This could work fabulously!

But just one thing burdened me … those alternate plans gave me a sharp tug.

Countdown to a final decision

I asked for a week to make my decision. Start date is March 1 and if I accepted the job, the visa process had to start on the spot. Everyone had hoped for a confirmation sooner, but sometimes, even perfect choices doesn’t make the decision-making process any easier.

Please don’t assume to know my answer just yet.

Actually, this post isn’t really about surviving a university job interview. It’s about surviving a decision.

 
How to get to Korea:

Who to fly with:

Korean Airlines (website) 
Free in flight meals, personal tv sets, care package (slippers, tootbrush and toothpaste, water bottle), 2 free luggage and no change fees.

Rental phones in Korea: 

SK Telecom Roaming (website)
Low Fee of 3,000w/day+ low rates on useage  (texts or calls)
*SK telecomm can be found in Incheon Airport, Gimpo Airport and Busan Airport.

Where to stay in the city:

Prince Hotel Daegu (website)
1824-2, Daemyeong 2-dong, Nam-gu, Daegu
Ph :82-53-650-5217
Less than 5 minutes walk from Myeongdok subway station, Line 1.

How to apply for a university job?

Each university has their own prerequisites. Some want a TOEFL certification, a degree in English or Business or 2+ years teaching at a college level, etc… Most require an MFA degree for consideration.

In general, here’s what to expect:

1. Submit cover letter, photo and resume
2. Fill out an application (in one case, I had an application which was 8 pages full of essay questions!). Sometimes, they’ll request you use their online application and just a head’s up– Korea uses mostly PC and Internet Explorer (too bad to Mac and Safari/Firefox users). 
3. Submit transcripts, copy of passport and documents via mail (or via email, if the school is cool)

Work hard, play hard?…  Maybe that is the Korean motto, because it seems when Korea throws a winter festival, it goes all out!

This January, I visited the Hwacheon Mountain Trout Festival. Initially, I thought the festival was purely about the spectacle of fishing for sancheoneo (or wild trout) through a hole in the ice like an eskimo or even fishing by bare hand. But when I got there, what I got was a surprising peek into how Koreans enjoy good old-fashioned winter fun.

I took the weekend bus from Seoul. Swishing past the Korean landscape for three hours at a mere 13,000 Won wasn’t a bad way to go.  Hwacheon county is in the Gangwon province, which is north of Seoul, running parallel to the Korean Demilitarization Zone. Being up north, Hwacheon gets winter’s first freeze; and thus, the river chills over with a thick layer of glass frost.

When I arrived at the festival, I wasn’t ready for its giiiiiiinormity. Hwacheon River was frozen acres and acres over and settled on it, was a winter  carnival, stretching farther than the eye could see. Activity-wise, it seemed there was something for everyone: Snowmobile rides, ice sledding and sleighing, mini ice hockey, ice race car driving, ziplining, skating,  eolgomiseong (tunnels, slides), snow sculptures (which I couldn’t find), etc… and yes, trout fishing.

Tickets were sold under a big tent and you had to pay admission for entry into each roped off event.  I got there a little late, so I didn’t buy any tickets into the events, but even being a spectator was fun.

 
Here’s how the sleigh ride is done if you’re by yourself. (a bit humorous)

 Korean variety acts

So far I’ve noticed many types of outdoor variety acts at the festivals I’ve been to. Performers dress up and perform a comedy like skit, then sing to the crowd. The singing is usually pretty good. Watch the short video below if you’re interested.

Catching as much trout as you can.

The festival is really known for its sancheoneo (aka wild trout) fishing, where participants catch as much fish as they can. If you want to fish, festival vendors sell small plastic fly swatter-like things, which are fishing rods with a string attached to a hook. Buy an entrance pass into the festival area and find a dugout hole in the ice to fish in. Some people set up mats to kneel on, while patiently watching for trout. Others bring fold out stools and chairs to sit on while yet other decide to have a family picnic on the ice.

Short video (2min) showing the festival

Believe me, though the fishing area was large, the holes were many and equipment and tactics appear as simple as dropping your line in a hole in the ice, not everyone was lucky to score a fish.

Then again, the thrill of the day was just being there and enjoying the wonderful spectacle of a winter carnival on ice!

 Read a Joongang daily article about the festival here.

Getting to Hwacheon:

Below directions from the official festival website www.narafestival.com

By foot:

From Hwacheon Bus Terminal, the festival venue is 10 minutes walk.

By Bus

Chuncheon-bound express buses can be caught at the following bus terminals:
   Seoul-Dongseoul/Sangbong Terminal, Busan, Daegu, Gimpo Airport, Incheon Airport, Incheon, Anyang, Jeonju, Cheonan, Weonju
At Chuncheon, transfer must be to Hwacheon Bus.

From Seoul:

Hwacheon-bound Bus
  Take express bus for Hwacheon at Dongseoul Terminal.
  15 buses daily, travel time: 2 hours 40 minutes(06:20~7:25P), Fare: 12,600 won

Take express bus  for Hwacheon at Sangbong Terminal
  13 buses daily, travel time: 2 hours 30 minutes(06:00~18:20), Fare: 10,100 won

From Chuncheon Bus Terminal
  Take express bus bound for Hwacheon at Chuncheon Terminal.
  Bus hours: 06:50 am ~ 21:20 pm / every 30 minutes , Travel time: 50minutes, Fare: 4,000 won

From Daegu
  Take express bus to Chuncheon
  Bus hours: 8:30A  -7P , Travel time: 4 hrs , Fare:  17200won  25500won   28000won
  Then at terminal, transfer to bus to Hwacheon (there are 2 bus terminals, not more than 7 minutes apart). Bus to Hwacheon is at the main  terminal next to Emart.

By Train

There’s a Korail train to Chuncheon. Get off at Chuncheon station and go to the bus stop outside across the street of the train station to catch a Hwacheon-bound bus that leaves the Chuncheon Bus Terminal every 30 minutes.

 I’m not a toilet connoisseur or nitpicker, but I do have varying degrees of tolerance. Smell, appearance, technology, leftovers, size, etc… whenever it pushes my standard into a level of discomfort, it makes my list.

Andong, why is your bus station toilet making my World’s Worst Toilet list?…

Your ajumma was vigilantly cleaning…

Your standard facilities seem okay.

The inside of the toilet doesn’t seem so off-putting, no horrible stench and the pull-chain flush, while ancient, at least worked.

But the problem is space.

My whole squat fits “over” the size of that toilet- my knees are nearly touching the pipes!  I’d hate to imagine how I’d be if I were 6 feet tall. There were no hooks to hang bags on (and honestly, there’s no way I’m going to put it on the floor), so my backpack was on my lap, squeezed tightly against my chest *because it didn’t fit the space when it was perched on my back*.  This was the most awkward and uncomfortable squat I’ve experienced in a while.

Thank God my squatting legs are getting stronger.

How many times can I look at Buddhas and temples?

Ordinarily, my tolerance isn’t high for seeing the same things over and over.

Variation is key.

For instance, living in Korea if you’ve seen one buddhist temple, you’ve pretty near seen them all. The architecture doesn’t change much and the buddhas wear the look of staunch, Fu Man Chu looking Confucianist.  Thailand is different. Whether it’s a hundred Buddhas lined up in a row, statuettes in varied pose symbolizing different days of the week or a giant Buddha reclined in daydream, I’m pretty bedazzled… and they all wear the warm smiles of the Thai.

Sukhothai vs Ayutthaya: How does it compare?

Both, Sukhothai Historical Park and Ayuttaya city are UNESCO world heritage sites, featuring grand ancient ruins. Ayutthaya‘s location (info on getting there here) makes it a convenient day trip if you’re in Bangkok. The ruins feel more varied in the way of chedis, wats and palaces, with a few grand buddhas sculptures to make you gawk.  But Ayutthaya is also a city and you’ll need to hire a taxi to get around to all the different sites, which have individual admission fees. It’s easier if you can go with friends to split taxi costs and it will take an entire day.

Ayutthaya’s line of buddhas

Sukhothai Historical Park is in Central Thailand, between Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Though you’ll probably need to book a stay overnight in Sukhothai, the park is  compact  and split into two zones- North and South- which require only two separate admissions. You can sight see the park from a bike or tram, making it a leisurely expedition. The overall theme of this park are lakes, massive Buddhas and chedis. As I’m more of a fan of Buddhas and not architectural ruins, Sukhothai was my favorite.

Sukhothai means Dawn of Happiness.

Sukhothai Historical Park is approx. 30 minutes from the bus station and budget guesthouses in New Sukhothai. Acres of wats (aka temples) and monument ruins unroll in peaceful contemplation, gloriously preserved against the crumble of time. The park’s 193 ruins commemorate a 13th century kingdom, which was once the capital of Thailand.

Taking the local songthaeuw to the park

Boarding a blue songthaeuw from New Sukhothai, I was just in time to hit peak after-school traffic. Loads of students filed into the truck, with some hanging onto a bar and step out on the back. A fare collector maneuvered her way around the crowd collecting fare. The cost: a little under 50 cents. Each time a passenger wanted to signal a stop for the driver , they pressed a buzzer to a bell. I didn’t know where the hell the push button for that buzzer was, even though it kept sounding, but fortunately, the park was the last stop on my route.

The songtheauw dropped me off near one of the exits of the park. The bike rental shops weren’t far.

Bike rentals are perhaps the best way to get around as they’re inexpensive (about 40-60Baht/day …a little under $2) and you can take your time. Another alternative is to take a guided tram tour.

I grabbed a bike and pedalled my way through the park, discovering the grandeur of spire chedis and massive meditating Buddhas.

Wat Mahathat’s star role

On occasion, I’ve had the fun of running into film shoots when I travel. Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on how you look at it) this prevented me from actually setting foot upon one of the most famous wat ruins in the park, Wat Mahathat. When I arrived, a Thai production company was filming a Muay thai kick-boxing scene. I wonder how much location fees run for shooting on UNESCO relics like this?

 Getting to Old Sukhothai Park:

A songthaeuw (take the blue one) or tuk-tuk is your best vehicle to the park. From New Sukhothai, it takes approx 30 minutes to get to the park. The songthaeuw stops running at either 5 or 6P; a bit before the park closes. After that, your only option back to you guesthouse/hotel are tuk-tuks.

Getting to Sukhothai:

via Train and bus:
Take the train to Phitsanulok (approx 6-7 hours) off of the Bangkok-Chiang Mai main line. At Phitsanulok station, take the local bus (runs 7AM-7PM; approx. 1 hour) to Sukhothai bus station in New Sukhothai. It may seem the boonies but there’s a handful of budget guesthouses located walking distance across the field or via tuk-tuk ride into town.

VIP Buses:
Chiang Mai-bound buses (to/from Sukhothai) are approx 4-6 hours.
Bangkok-bound buses have AC, with spacious reclined seats and may offer meals, a movie and rest stops. Duration  6-7 hours to Bangkok’s Mochit station.

This post comes a bit belated, but in lieu of my recent visit to Korea, I have to do it for laughs. When I was teaching in Korea, there was something in my Korean public school johns. Take a look at the photos below and guess what it was…

The water was flooding panic into my goggles and stinging my eyes. I blew out sharply to clear my mask.

We were pulling ourselves down by the anchor rope,  descending to the ocean floor. I was at the head of the group and the second in line. Going back up was not an option.

Was there a leak in my mask? 

The game plan: in single file, lower ourselves down to the ocean’s bottom by the anchor rope of the boat.

My throat was dry. I swallowed hard on the spit in my mouth, while continuing to evacuate my mask of incoming water.

We lowered another foot. 

Everything around me felt foreign. The water pushed in, tightening around my body like a snug liquid suit. It required more effort to breathe.  My breath drew in harder. My ears, like an empty plastic bottle, getting compressed of its air, wanted to Pop! The pressure was now causing a splitting pain…

Clear mask, swallow spit, pop ears and remember to breathe.

Clear mask, swallow spit, pop ears and remember to breathe.

Clear mask, swallow spit, pop ears and remember to breathe.

It was a multi-tasking effort.

Panic grew as I attempted to keep my alarm rate down. I gulped… hard. My ears went Pop! 

Ahhh, momentary relief.

Kevin, my PADI dive instructor swam to me, signalling underwater:

Everything okay?

“Okay”, I signaled back. A total lie. I was freaking out. I’d been having troubles with my mask at the surface earlier; this snowballed into a pre-dive freak out which only heightened with each foot we took down. Was the water in my mask a normal trickle or a flood? Were my fears and worries exaggerating my reality?

I couldn’t tell the difference.

Happy fucking birthday, Chris!

What is age and why do I have to act like a number?

What does getting older mean and how do you celebrate it on the solo road?

It was my first birthday on the road and I was spending it alone. Ugh. Spending my birthday by myself? Wasn’t sure if I could handle it. When you pass your mid 30s, you feel like you’re pretty much over-the-hill. Numbers begin to feel like they lie, so you stop counting and avoid the friends who’ll remind you of it!

 I’d love to say getting my PADI certification was something I’ve wanted to do all my life. It wasn’t. It was my last-minute resort to do something racy, adventurous and symbolic for an age I didn’t feel. Perhaps like how middle-aged men get a 20-year-old girlfriend or new sports car!

Living “older” was never in my equation. Never in my body or my life. 

Marriage, children, mortgage, lifelong career, following a path of responsible “shoulds”… None of the above.

I’d been taking my time, marching to my own whimsical tunes in life, not congnizant of the fact my age was marching faster than me. Now here it was, staring me in the face. The grand number. 

Was this something I should freak out about ? Perhaps,… yeah.

Remembering to stay true

Me, scuba diving?

As a Hawaiian Cancerian, I was born to love the ocean. Only one problem: I can’t swim. As a child, I remember lying on the bed as my mother squeezed ear drops into my ear, after each swim class. 

Drip, drip, drip…. fizzzz… 

Alas, swimming lessons (along with children, white picket fence and a 401K) weren’t in my cards. 

Now, floating in my scuba panic, I questioned the lunacy of my scuba decision, when it dawned on me…

Given a second chance, my outcome would be the same. Just as same, as it would be if I replayed my life and its choices. I’d be exactly where I was at that moment– holding onto an anchor rope, a single jobless traveler seeking herself, while clearing her mask of water and trying not to whimp out on life, scuba diving and solo traveling.

A reassuring calm set in. The calm of realizing you can only work with what you’re given in instances and if you life your moments- your fears, joys, struggles, etc…- fully, there can be no regrets.

No regrets.

This was my destiny.

‘Foreign’ is what we say, when we forget the ‘Familiar’

I remembered dreams I’ve had of exploring the depths of the sea and breathing underwater. I’d had these dreams since childhood and they never felt foreign or scary. As a matter of fact, the sea has always felt familiar to me …like home. Perhaps it’s having been raised on an island surrounded by water or remembering the comfort of the womb. ‘Foreign’ felt like ‘home’.  The ocean was no more foreign, frightening or familiar than any city or country I’ve traveled.

So what was I freaking out about?

This was just another journey in a life of rolling adventures and change.

Trust yourself and you’ll be able to trust your surroundings better

“Trust,”  my instinct whispered.

As a one-size-fits-all word, trust seeped into me as certain and solid as a safety net, melting away the muddiness of my panic and opening my eyes to the beauty around me.

If anyone tells you that there’s nothing like diving, there’s good reason. 

Submerged, all the sea is tranquil, silent, mysterious and awakened… like a slow-motion dream or fairytale.

The ocean is a place, where a child-like wonder and exploration feels infinite and eternal.  The coral reef stood like magnificent jeweled sea palaces, harboring years of solitary moments, while building a house of dynamic and enigmatic sea life within. Above, was a glassy surface emitting a etherial, mesmerizing light. Below, the sandy floor held the impermanent stretch marks of shifting time and a school of radiant yellow and white fishes. 

Through diving, I could experience this dream of breathing underwater.

Wide-eyed, I felt awakened to my oceanic dreams and the unfathomable depths and mysteries of the sea; and in that moment, my sense of time, worries and future fears all dissolved into an eternity.

Growing older wasn’t the end of life. Age is just a number.

As a diver and explorer, in the sea and in life, my heart would continue to beat young.

No, time didn’t matter. But being present in each moment and savoring your experiences, matters.  Plugging through your fears, matters. Living your dreams and keeping an open sense of curiosity and adventure towards life… it all matters.

 How and where to dive in Thailand ?

You can dive for fun or get your PADI certification from anywhere across the world if you check out PADI’s Dive shop locator!  With a range of beaches and islands (here’s Travel Fish‘s list of Thai islands) offering excellent dive locations, Thailand was my starter country and diving packages came with the right price. You can find cheap flights to Phuket and Ko Samui or dive packages to Ko Tao, Ko Phi Phi,  Ko Pha Ngan or Krabi from tour agencies on Khao San Road in Bangkok.

Word on the street is that you’ll get the best scuba diving deals in Southeast Asia.

I spent two hours on Khao San Road in Bangkok, bouncing from agent to agent, searching for a diving package to ring in my first solo birthday on the road .  Finally, my four-day PADI open water diving certification program was booked at the jaw-dropping price of $320 (apologies, earlier I quoted $250 but was off). Travel gossip didn’t lie.

I’m not lucky enough to be one of those travel bloggers to score sponsored press trips nor am an ingenue haggler, but I don’t scold myself. I make up for it by being a queen hunter of basement bargains and cheap day tours of reasonably good quality!

What did my package include? Round trip transportation to the island of Ko Tao, a 4-night resort stay and 4 days of licensed training, confined water dives and 4 open water dives to a maximum of 18 meters. Sounds like a lot, doesn’t it?

Ko Tao is an island off of the south eastern coast of Thailand, known mostly for diving and snorkeling.

A popular tourist destination for travelers and local Thai, it was a three hour ferry ride to the island. Known as Turtle Island for its shape and the fact it’s a breeding ground for turtles, the island is quite small. There are only two main towns (Mae Haad and Sairee) and one main strip of road dotting the island’s western shoulder ( I rented a motorbike for a day and the ride takes about 2 hours to complete). It’s an enjoyable ride and you can stop off at small shops and markets along the way. Mae Haad is the capital and port town and it’s stocked with everything you’ll need. Sairee is the peaceful and romantic sister town with a chill vibe, beach side bars and resorts and warm nightlife .

My birthday prize package

My package said “resort accommodations”, but holy cow, for the price I paid, I didn’t honestly expect it!  Arriving at Sairee’s Coral Grand Resort, I was floored by the luxury before me. It sure looked grand.

A pool for diving lessons

Sairee Beach connects you with neighboring resorts, seaside bars and ultimately,
Sairee town, where there are restaurants, stores, nightlife and my favorite, 7-11. The walk to town by beach or road is approximately  8-10 minutes.

Rooms were booked full when I arrived. They didn’t have the non- air conditioned “cheapie” room I reserved, so the desk manager upgraded me to an A.C. room, while gesturing a secret “Shhh..” to me.  Score! Dang girl, my birthday present to myself was starting to look up.

My room came complete with a queen-sized bed, free wi-fi, air condition, full amenities and an outdoor balcony. It was purrr-fect pampering and rest from my road of solitude.

PADI diving certification is the hub to meeting international travelers

By the time I unpacked and had lunch, it was 2PM.

I met my group at the resort’s dive center, Coral Grand Divers, for an in-class orientation, where we were given instruction manuals and shown a video. The center buzzed with training groups led by a crew of instructors. It was like a  U.N. factory for divers. Impressive! Manuals were in most major languages and the dive instructors heralded from various parts of the world. If you spoke a language other than English, the program would find a dive instructor to help you. Initially, we had a French girl in our global group (of Spanish, German, Chinese and Burmese), but when they discovered English n’était pas her strength, she got her own private French-speaking instructor!

Incidentally, I even saw a Korean group led in Korean!

The dive center, where we have our in-classroom classes.

Day Two

8:00 am:

Suit up for dive lessons in the pool! First day of our confined water dive, we familiarized ourselves with the scuba gear, took a 15 minute treading water test and learned how to deal with underwater emergencies, like recovering our mouthpiece, clearing our mask of water, learning hand signals and helping a buddy in emergency situations.

“The ocean is a foreign environment. It’s not our natural environment, even though we’ve spent the first stages of our life in water.”

Foreign.

From my first time traveling solo to living abroad or moving my lifestyle to different cities and states, I’ve experienced many types of “foreign”.  I’ve always adapted with enthusiasm. But cities and countries have limits. Could I adapt to being submerged below sea level, surviving off of an oxygen tank, in an endless ocean?

Afraid of Jaws (who wasn’t traumatized by that film?).

A Hawaiian who can’t swim (uh, I’ll explain that later).

Perhaps I was meeting an upgraded challenge?

Foreign- Foreign.

“You may start off feeling odd and scared by it, but it’s something you’ll learn to adapt to,” Kevin reassured us.

As our Irish instructor, he fell in love with diving, picked up and moved from Ireland to dive and teach. That was over 10 years ago.

Main points to remember about diving:

Some of them initially sound terrifying, if you’re an over-thinker like me. But once I got in the pool, my adapting began.

1. Never hold your breath while you’re diving.
  I tried coughing and sneezing in my mask with the regulator in. Not a problem.
2. Equalize (swallow or pinch your nose and blow) a lot when you’re descending; so as to avoid water pressure from damaging your ears.
3. Don’t ascend too quickly
4. Beware of trigger fish. *They’re small but if you dive in their territory, they might attack you.
5. Rule of the sea: nothing will attack you unless it feels threatened.

Day Three

7:30 am:  Our first two open water dives (aka in the ocean)! Maximum depth: 12 meters.

Driven to the port in Mae Haad, we board a boat which takes us out to two of the twelve dive sites around Ko Tao.

Captain of the boat!

On the boat, Kevin prepped us to the game plan, with a string of last-minute reminders. He wanted to make sure we remembered safety.

But my big question: Sharks. Kevin’s answer: They don’t like the taste of humans. If you were to be accidentally bitten, it’d probably spit you out!

Good enough answer for me. 

I jump off the boat, swam out and grabbed hold of the anchor’s rope. Regulator in mouth, I was breathing like Darth Vadar and descending… Blub, blub, blub.

Clearing my mask was a problem. Water kept getting in my mask and despite my freakout (post will follow shortly), I survived.

I’ve had childhood dreams of swimming over watery worlds and breathing underwater.

This was a literal dream come true. Hovering  over palatial coral reefs or exploring it at eye level is a trip.  The coral reefs were like towers with brilliantly colored sea anemone, sitting like patches of grass. The ocean bed was a slow shifting desert. We saw fishes and eels. At one point, Kevin gave the signal “Shooter“, while pointing to the infamous trigger fish, we had learned to avoid. It  was hiding in a cave.

After our exploration dive, we went to a new spot, a cove where we ran our emergency drills again, while kneeling on the ocean floor. A bit boring in comparison to our earlier dive, but still thrilling to be out in the open waters.

Day Four

7:30 am: Dives #3 and #4 at the maximum depth 18 meters.

Similar routine. We started with a fun dive of exploring the reef and waters. I practiced more of my hovering skills. Hovering is the ability to swim/float at a consistent level. Your lowering and rising in the water is controlled by the amount of breath in your lungs.

Then we moved dive locations to do emergency drill practice… again. But its part of the requirements for licensing. This time however, it was more fun. We had a videographer to shoot our dive. He wanted us to do crazy things underwater.  I got to walk on my hands, do funny dance moves with a pair of sunglasses, do sommersaults and blow smoke ring bubbles. It was a blast!

I am a graduated and licensed open water diver!

I did it! Spending my first birthday alone went off remarkably well!  I lived my dream of breathing underwater (in waking life) and though I celebrated my birthday on the solo road, it will go down in my history as one of my most memorable, profound and proud moments.

Not to mention, after experiencing the magic of scuba diving,  I’m now a fan!  Maybe, I’ll start booking travel according to dive locations. We’ll see!

Big Mahalos to all the agents on Khao San Road, Coral Grand Resort,  Coral Grand Divers and my dive instructor, Kevin for a memorable stay and fantastic dive experience!

Some recommendable Ko Tao dive links and information:

My Dive Instructor:
Kevin Mcloughlin
kev.mcloughlin@gmail.com | Tel: 0066 (0) 844424004
Website: Pressure Drop Divers

Coral Grand Divers
www.coralgranddivers.com

Asia Divers Resort (Sairee Koh Tao)
www.asia-divers.com

Ban’s Diving Resort
Haad Sairee, Koh Tao
Ph: +66 (0) 7745-6466
www.bansdivingresort.com

Note:  The abridged version of this article will be published in print at Daegu Compass, February 2012 issue.

Just to continue from my last post, I thought I’d share some of the things I learned about Moroccan culture. They’re really random facts I picked up from my guide at the time and it’s helped shape my appreciation for the culture and lifestyle.

9 fun things I learned about Moroccan culture

1.  Donkeys are the most popular animal

Our ‘illegal’ guide Outman, told us that ‘Donkeys are the taxis of Fez’! You’ll see many of them packing loads of cargo through the streets of Old Fez. They’re used for transporting goods and occasionally, Fez folk ride them.  If you hear someone behind you shout, “Halak!” then take the cue and get outta the way! It means someone with a donkey wants to pass.

2.  Getting around in Fez

The way to skirt around between old Fez and new, is by taxi and there’s two types: petite and grande.

Petite taxis handle inner city transportation and run on a meter (make sure your driver is using one; it’s the law). Petite colors change per city; for instance, red is used in Fez and beige is in Marrakech.

Grande taxis are best for longer distances (i.e. to the airport) and are hired by flat rate, which you’ll negotiate with your driver before the trip.  Incidentally, here’s a helpful guide on using taxis.

 3.  Prayer Calls

At first you may thing there’s an air raid in the city, but the woven rumble of chanting that is sirened over a loudspeaker actually sounds peace. What you’re hearing are prayer calls and they’re coming from the mosques. Adhan (Arabic: “prayer calls“) occurs five times throughout the day, as part of the Muslim faith. It’s a cool experience, even if it wakes you from your slumber at 3 AM.  When adhan begins, watch able-bodied Muslims file in, lining up inside and around the mosque for worship.

4.  Dining etiquette  in Morocco

Do as Moroccans do when dining– eat with your fingers!

However, you must use your right hand when eating and drinking and only your first three fingers to eat your food. To use anymore than three, is being ”piggy”. Never use the left hand: it’s for the you-know-what duties.

5.  Ubiquitous Pictures of the King

Morocco has a king and you will find a picture of him in every household and place of business!

6.  Moroccans vs. Berbers

There’s two classes in Morocco: Moroccans and Berbers. They say the Berbers are of the lower caste, because they’re mountain folk with a rural lifestyle. But what sets them apart is also their design style and fabric. The Berber style is a bit more folksy and simpler in design; their fabrics are of a rougher weave to withstand cold weather. Meanwhile, Moroccan tapestry is smooth to the touch and more refined in design. Both are beautiful and symbolic of the two natures of Moroccan life.

7.  Superstition and the Hand of Fatima

Moroccans are superstitious. The Hand of Fatima or the ‘Eye of Fatima‘ is an ornate hand symbol used in amulets, charms, jewelry, mendhi designs, door entrances, etc… Often it looks like a mendhi hand and is said to offer protection against jealousy and bad wishes. This symbol is also to invite good luck, abundance and patience. Below is a rudimentary Berber version of it, used as a door handle design.

 In lieu of the New Year, I’m reflecting on the “travel steps” that led me to be the traveler I am today.

Looking back at photos, I was reminiscing about a past trip to Morocco. It was my first “developing country”. Reading Paul Bowles‘ autobiography, this trip incited my thirst and curiosity for adventures, which lay beyond western borders.  The thirst kept growing, because…

There’s a secret to Morocco and I’m convinced it speaks through its spices! From scented oils, city-wide prayer calls and intricate Arabic/Berber craft work designs to maze-like streets bustling with the traffic of crowded souks and taxi-ing donkeys, it’s easy to get seduced into Morocco’s enclave of mystery. Fez is alluring as both, a spiritual and medieval city. It is reminiscent of the days of Ali Baba, with over a 100 narrow streets, spotted with craft workers, metal smiths and tanneries.

What is there to do and see in Fez? A lot.
 

See, experience and buy

1.  The spice markets

Spice markets are plentiful in Fez. Taste the food and you’ll know why.  But spices aren’t used only for flavoring. For Moroccans, many herbs also have medicinal benefits.

I caught a cold in Barcelona, days before arriving in Morocco. I bought a herb from the spice pharmacy, which helped alleviate my congestion. The herbal dealer told me to rub it between my fingers and sniff it like snuff. I was reluctant to try his recommendation. But when my congestion flared up from the surrounding dust, I snorted it down. Results? It worked. It alleviated my sniffles and I was good to go!

2.  Visit the Tanneries and leather shops

Want to know how leather goods in Morocco are made? Visit the tanneries and check out the process in which hides go through: de-furring, drying, dying, etc…  The smell may make you gasp, but most places offer mint to hold to your nose.

Note: Guides offering to take you to the tanneries are plentiful because they get a kickback from it. Most likely, the rooftop overlooking the tannery belongs to a leather shop, so expect to shop afterwards. Leather prices in Morocco run cheaper than the U.S., depending on your bargaining skills.

3.  Shop for Moroccan fabrics & carpets

A fabric factory and carpet shop are usual shopping points for tourists.  Performed by hand or loom, the tapestry is richly crafted with intricate Arabic or Berber designs. However, if you enter a shop, be prepared for the hard sell. Show the slightest interest in a fabric or carpet and the salesman will unroll everything imaginable for your viewing. We visited a carpet shop and the owner unrolled ten carpets for us to see! He would’ve unrolled more if we didn’t stop him.

Explore

4.  Moroccan food

The popular Moroccan dish is Tagine, a vegetable stew cooked slowly in a special earthenware pot.  It’s often served with couscous (like a Moroccan rice). It’s absolutely delicious!

5. The markets and alleyways

A brisk walk through the medina (aka marketplace) in the morning and you’ll see craftsmen crouching in small shops the size of a closet, making their wares by hand. A metal smith pedals a bike to sharpen a blade and rounds out a metal bowl with a hammer. These techniques seem antiquated. Also, no vehicles (i.e. car or trucks) are allowed inside the walls of Fez; with the exception of the occasional donkey. Time seems to have stopped in this medieval city. This is the charm of old Fez.

 6.  The culture and lifestyle

For an Islamic state, ornate Arabic designs, mosques and prayer calls waking you from your slumber at 3 AM, are all a part of the Muslim faith.

Moroccan women dress ultra-conservatively and as a female traveler in an Islamic country,  you might want to follow the code. Clothing shouldn’t show much skin, unless you wish to invite unwanted attention and catcalls. Male-female relationships are very prim and interaction between the sexes is spare and strongly conservative. Know the simple act of a smile at a man can be misinterpreted as loose relations. On a positive note, the community doesn’t tolerate sexual harassment; this doesn’t mean men won’t attempt things on a naive foreigner. But as a woman, if  you make a transgression or violation publicly known or enlist the help of the police, you will receive aid.

Experience Moroccan Beauty, Bath & Spa

7. Visit a Hammam bathhouse

The hammam is a traditional bathhouse for both, men and women and once you try it, you may find yourself a fan for life!  Naked, but separated by sex, you first sit in a sauna. Then when you’re ready for a bath,  go to the washing station and lay on the large marble slab, where your washer will proceed to lift limbs and scrub intensely, getting in your nooks and crannies. You’ll need to get over fears about public nudity and of being washed by someone else, if you’re to enjoy this. But if you do, you’ll literally see yourself shedding chunks of dead skin, as if it were molting season! You’ll be enthralled…

What do you take with you? A scrubbing mit (aka “kessa“) and some olive soap. I went to a  hammam at a spa in New Fez. Cost was around $20, but local hammams promise to be cheaper.

8.  Getting Mendhi

Want to try your hand at mendhi? (pun intended) Mendhi is a temporary tattoo design that Moroccan brides get when they’re about to get married. But Moroccans know that tourists like to get them too. In fact, in Marrakesh you’ll see happy tourists lining up at the Djema El Fna square to get it done.

At the recommendation of our guide, my friend, Margaret and I, went to a local Berber house to get mendhi.

9.   Moroccan Makeup

Moroccan woman line their eyes with powdered coal. Before you freakout at the thought of putting char on your tender eyes, Moroccans claim coal as being an eye antiseptic.  It’s actually good for eyes! Interestingly, it comes in a wooden jar or glass bottle with a wooden pen. Dip the wood tip into the coal and then line your eye, as you would with a brush.

Where to stay?

10.  The Moroccan riad

The riad is a traditional Moroccan house or palace, where all rooms revolve around a central courtyard or garden. The architectural designs in these places are fit for a king or for a tourist, who wants a meditative experience. These days, due to their popularity, there’s an increasing amount of restored riads cropping up for tourist accommodations. Read my post here about the riad I stayed at.

What are some of the wonders you’ve experienced there?

A three-day trek in the mountains of Chiang Mai, Thailand? Loved it. A rugged and intense workout, it made me feel like I really earned those landscape gems of perfect waterfalls, manicured paddy fields and quaint mountain villages. 

By now, a porcelain bowl in the ground and a bucket of water to flush isn’t so shocking to me. My odds of hitting my shoe when I squirt are 80 out of 100. Yay! I’m getting pretty professional.

A village home stay with an outhouse isn’t horrible in the light of day. But at night with no light? That’s a different story…

Did I mention, this outhouse doubles as the shower too? I spent my first night squatting in the dark and taking a cold water bath by the light of my perched flashlight.

Rugged adventures!  I love them, but feel like I should earn Girl Scout badges for them.