Nick toasts the ladies. 

Grilling goodness. 

Scott cooks like a madman. 

This moment brought to you by Cham-ee-seul Soju. 

Co-teacher Judy and yours truly.  

View of the stage while an Avalon employee spontaneously combusts.  

Photographic evidence of the mysterious, ghost-like, Korean, big, white hand.  

Korean teacher power! 

Men in black.  

I threw some more scuba and flower pictures on the site for fun. I actually stole the additional scuba photos from scuba instructor and beer inspector Nic Hofberg. Since I stole his photos, it's only fair that I cite his website. Check out http://www.suwon-scuba.com/ for more crazy Korean scuba diving action.

In other news, well, there's not much other news. I've just been teaching, grading essays and pedalling the Eagle around town. The poor thing got a flat today; I'm referring to the bike.

The kids recently had the essay topic: "If you could live in any other country besides Korea, where would you go." It was interesting to read what the kids thought of other countries. With respect to the states they seemed equally divided between believing that they would get shot the minute they stepped off the plane (because America is such a violent place) and thinking that all North Americans are rich and intelligent. I don't have the heart to tell them they are mistaken in both instances.

One girl said she wanted to go to the United States of America to, "eat the big pizza and hamburger in the western fashion." Besides being very poetic, this phrase made me wonder what is the "western fashion" of eating. Since she was referring to hand foods, pizza and hamburgers, I think it's discarding the chopsticks (and even simple utensils like a fork and knife), picking up the food, and mashing it into ones face in hopes that it might reasonably get close to ones mouth. I've worked in many restaurants and this is not far off the mark. In fact of got a hankering to eat "the big hamburger in the western fashion" right about now. Believe it or not, there's a TGI Fridays right across the street. I never corrected the girl's sentence. To me it was perfect.

Attack of the giant Korean flowers! (Where's Mothra?) 

Reading the fine print.  

The sea was angry that day.  

Waygook washing machine.  

Quick, lets steal the equipment and run.  

The bad kids.  

We've found sunken treasure! 

The scuba salute.

Don't be fooled. They're terrified.  

Bright green brings out my eyes. 

Group photo. Don't worry, scuba instructor Nick was wearing some shorts, I'm pretty sure. Wait, they're on his head! 

I've taken some time off from the blog mines. My weekends (the usual blogging time) were eaten in pursuit of my scuba diving certification. One weekend was spent in a very cold pool in Suwon, the old capital of Korea, and the other weekend was spent in a very cold Korean sea. Some people come here thinking Korea is comparable to Thailand and end up very surprised when instead of spicy, Thai chicken and palm trees, they instead get kimchi and dried cabagge fields (at least in the winter). We've taken it one step further at Avalon school. We know Korea is not Thailand, but we're going to pretend like it is. We will scuba dive and we will enjoy it!

Actually last weekend was an adventure. We planned to leave Friday night, and after a very chaotic and hectic taxi ride, we barely made it to the bus station in time... in time to find out that all the seats were sold out on the buss. One stranded, and extremely nice lady going to Sokcho bargained a four hour cab ride that cost thirty bucks each. Not bad, except four of us were crammed in the back of a cab for four hours. It was a community bonding experience.

On Saturday we got our first taste of the sea and it was nasty. The sea was angry that day my friends! It actually was, very rough and very unforgiving. Once all of us were in, it was like a waygook washing machine set on high agitation with cold water. I bumped into rocks, scuba instructors, and other scuba students. I would have felt bad and apologized (to instructors and students, not rocks) but I hoped that the friction from bouncing into things might warm me up.

When one attempts to earn scuba certification there are certain tasks that one has to perform: clear the mask of water, retrieve a lost regulator, try not to freak out. These can be difficult tasks in a pool, but when you're getting jostled to and fro, they can be down right impossible. When you're freezing and jostled, forget about it.

We canned the rest of the dives that day in hopes that the weather would be more forgiving the next day. We took our written tests at the hotel, ordered pizza, and then performed additional scuba tasks; namely clearing our masks and snorkels of beer. Scuba Instructor Nick swore that this was part of training and that we will get super scuba merit badges for successfully performing these tasks. We all drank out of my mask and my snorkel which explained the funny, bar-like scent I kept smelling while diving the next day.

So the next day it rained; however, we found a nicer and cuddlier dive spot. We still froze our asses off, but we managed to pull out all the tasks, and, more importantly, no one drowned; which I've learned is a pretty important thing in scuba diving. That's kind of like the king of the scuba tasks: Do Not Drown.

Would I repeat my experience this last weekend? Probably not. Would I trade it for anything? Not a thing. It's strange how I can put myself in a compromising situation and hate it and love it at the same time. Comparable to dating.

So now I am Nathan: novice scuba diver, teacher of small Koreans, and the terror of the Asian bike path. I wonder what other titles I'll accumulate. I'm sure the people who know me well can think up a few less-than-spectacular ones.

Long walk on, well, a long plank.

Alison wonders, "Which device do I breath out of?" while Sarah looks on skeptically.  

Super Waygooks! 

We need to comandeer your vessle! 

Dive entry site. Yeah, it was a little rough.