Champagnta

This is going to be one of those intensely photo heavy, long posts. All photos courtesy of Jess, Andrea, and Sara as I did not have my camera. Most of the best days in my life are those days that I look back on and, in retrospect, realize were absolutely amazing. Some days, though, you realize in the moment that they will be the best days of your life. This is the story of one of those days. **

**

When I was 18, my main group of friends was referred to as "The Table." We ate lunch and dinner together every weekday while on the weekends we came together for brunch and dinner. The Table was primarily straight-edge, so our Friday and Saturday nights involved going to the movies, candy shop, or playing cards on Jenn and Denise's floor. But brunch on the weekend--that was our time. It was a marathon for us. Ten thirty to one. As many plates as we could eat. Glorious were the days when they had the make-your-own waffle station. Jenn seemed to live for them. Kim could pack in more food than any of us, despite her small frame. But brunch was always bittersweet. We knew we were fighting against the clock, that we had a full day of homework ahead of ourselves and no amount of scrambled eggs would make it go away. We would leave in the early afternoon, resigned to a day of study.

But in the real world, Sunday brunch isn't procrastination's last hurrah, it's the weekend's last hurrah. Whatever happened that weekend, however disappointing, there's still a full day ahead of you to turn it around. There's no homework looming overhead, but there is the knowledge that the week begins tomorrow. Every Sunday is like the last day of summer for a school kid. You know that it's all you've got left and you have to make the most out of it. Our traditional brunch has been referred to as the "Hangover Brunch" but to me it's more of a debriefing session. We gather at someone's flat to cook, eat, and have our last drinks of the weekend. This Sunday, we started with Bloody Marys (my first!) and after we ate our way through a few hours of lounging in the kitchen on the windowsill, we finished up brunch with Magical Mermaid Mimosas. When the pitcher was finished, we finally decided to move to the park to bask in the beautiful weather (in spite of all those warnings about volcanic ash). I looked, calculating, at the empty bottle of twist-off champagne, the full bottle, and the half-empty bottle of Fanta.

"Guys!" I shouted. "We pour half the bottle of champagne into the empty bottle, then top both off with the Fanta, put the caps back on, and bring them with us to the park!" Someone quipped about the beauty of twist-off champagne caps. But then, we did. And it was glorious. *

We went to the park and found the perfect spot in the sun to drink our Champagnta. **

And drink it we did! When you mix in Fanta, you can barely taste the 48 crown (~$2.50) bottle of champagne! *

We decided that the slightly opaque sparkly stuff in the green bottles looked like what they drink in the garden in the movie of Harriet the Spy and this made Champagnta even better. *

I was pretty excited to have dressed so ridiculously for brunch. "I strive to make every moment of my life a photo opportunity" may have been my Champagnta-tipsy quote of the day. *

But while we were laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, an Austrian boy in a photography class actually came over and asked to take pictures, so, really, we made an impression. *

You'll note that most pictures are of the five of us girls. Brunch is usually high in estrogen and any boys who end up with us seem a bit exhausted. There's a reason he's on his own little towel instead of The Blanket (The Definite Article Blanket, as it were). And that reason is girls and... **

PUPPIES! The park is full of them on a Sunday afternoon and the Czechs aren't big on leashes. We called over as many dogs as we could and attacked them with affection, making cooing noises. This dog, however, found us. We noticed her urinating on the head of a guy passed out a few yards from us. Then, suddenly, she was on our blanket. "She likes other people but not me," the owner said when he came to retrieve her. What we did not get a photo of was the pig.

"Is that man walking a pig?" asked Jess. We all looked over and debated whether or not it was indeed a pig.

"Is that pony?" asked Jess, about a very large poodle at a great distance.

But, the porcine leashed animal came closer, and revealed itself to, in fact, be a pig. Eventually, Lauren and I were on the way to the bathroom and I managed to ask the owner if we could pet it. He apathetically agreed. We pet a pig. Its nose was kind of sticky, its fur was sparse, but it was a pig, and we pet it. ***

Eventually, the one bottle of champagne split two ways ran out.

"Guys! We buy two more bottles of champagne and one bottle of Fanta..." I began.

"And split the champagne amongst four bottles and top it off with Fanta!" someone else finished.

So Sara and I went to the same shop where she had purchased the makings of the Magical Mermaid Mimosas to get more supplies. We ended up with the same cashier and Sara gleefully told her to have a good day. We certainly were having one. We returned triumphantly and the crowd applauded.

At this point, the splitting the bottles became an assembly line procedure. Pour the champagne, pour the Fanta, cap it, overturn it to mix but don't shake. ***

In the end, we had four more bottles of Champagnta. "I'll call you breakfast, and you brunch, and you lunch, and you dinner!" **

*

As we neared the end of the bottles, we did feats to show off how we were still not drunk including hand stands, somersaults, and cartwheels. Throughout the day, friends came and went. There was frisbee and football. There were guitars and surly chihuahuas. As the sun went behind the clouds and slowly began to set, we moved to the beer garden and had a last round of drinks and foosball for the weekend (for some of us, at least).

It seemed to most of us that Monday morning was more brutal after a beautiful Sunday, but I think that on some level we all preferred an amazing Sunday and rough Monday to two mediocre days.

*From Sara

** From Jess

*** From Andrea

Chapter Twenty-One: "Look, it's Daegu"

This weekend Layna, an 03' Smithie, came to visit me from Seoul and go on some Daegu adventures. That coupled with Halloween made this by far my best weekend in Korea.
She arrived on Saturday morning and we headed up to Apsan by bus. We got off at a random place at the side of the mountain so I got to see another path before it led to the one I had taken up last time.

Pretty! During the whole climb we kept joking that Korea was trying to have fall even though it was nearly 70 degrees and the first of November and not many leaves had changed.

Resting!

When we made it to the top, we ate our kimbap from the kimbap ajima downstairs. Then I surprised Layna with some mini apple pies I had made! I was so proud of my stovetop baking of pies! (And my ability to cook without a recipe!) It was the perfect fall snack.

Arr, climbed a mountain again!

At the top, it felt like summer but finally looked like fall.

Cute little pinecones.

FOLLIAGE!

It makes me miss fall in Massachusetts so much. Korea cannot compare, even on the mountains. But it's an adventure!

Huge rock, must be climbed!

So I did!

So did Layna!

Our shadows in the bright sun really look like summer.

"Look, it's Daegu!"

Ice cream pops at the top of the world again.

Beautifully creepy bit of the path.

Layna, before we headed back to the cable car and to the bottom of the mountain. Then we got some coffee and rotibun in metromall. Finally, we headed off to Woobang Towerland--but that's for another post.

Chapter Ten: An Independent Journey to Duryu

And now for something completely different: I will do a food blog sometime soon, but today's is all nature. It's probably very self-indulgent and more like a journal than anything I've done so far. Most of it will be taken from a journal entry I wrote while at the top of the hill in Duryu park. You've been warned. Edit: I found out that yesterday was Mountain Day back home. Luckily, I had the day off myself and spent it on top of a hill. It makes the missing-Smith feeling a little easier.

I'm at the top of a hill in Duryu Park overlooking the Woobang Towerland amusement park. I was feeling particularly down today. I thought I would stay home in bed all day. While trolling the interent, I re-discovered an expat wiki that had a lot about Daegu. I saw pictures of Woobang Towerland and that it as next to a park. I looked at the subway map and saw how easy it was to get to. Put on pants then pack my backpack with a Larabar, bottle of water, notebook, and my camera. I put on my adventure Sauconys and put my Ipod on.

I pick the album "Not a Pretty Girl" because it is somehow, to me, about a solitary adventure. It's been eight years since I used to listen to it on the walk to the bus stop, but it still has that feeling for me. Walking alone, inside of my own head. I was talking to Morgan the other day about how much this time in my life feels like early adolescence. There is so much out there to discover and I'm really able to do it on my own now. I guess that's what the album is about to me.

I head to the subway, passing more bizarre Daegu (chicken on a leash) and take the train the five stops here. Everyone stares, as usual. I listen to my music, try to stay in my head, don't let it make me turn back. When I arrive, I look at the exit maps and find my way to the park. The trails twist and turn. There are many dirt paths that I pass up to follow the stone.

It's beautiful and safe.

I'm still a little worried about getting lost.

I get to the end of a low path and decide "up!"

So I climb. Another stopping point. "Up!" I choose. It's not very steep. I'm enjoying the stretch. The feeling of rocks and tree roots under my feet.

Where am I made for? The beach or harbor where I grew up? The forests I played in? The hills of Western Mass? The city where I will always feel free? I'm getting that sense of endless possibilities again. I love the world. I love being everywhere. I keep climbing.






When I get to the top, I see a clearing with so few trees. It reminds me of Ovid. I'm alone. No one on Earth has any idea where I am right now; I am kind of liking it. I click off more photos. Some Koreans walk by, "안녕하세요" says one kind woman. "Anyounghaseo," I reply. The album isn't even over yet! How could such a wonderful journey from my apartment door to the top of this hill happen in the space of one Ani DiFranco album?

I decide to take a few self-portraits in the Korean style. I've got so few pictures of myself in Korea.

I don't just want to rememer this precipice, but also being here.

I sit down, drink my water, and begin to log my thoughts.

I can hear people shouting from the amusement park. I think next time I'll give it a try. I'm in love with this park, this city, the world right now. Maybe I'll bring someone for a picnic next time. Or maybe I'll just keep it for myself.




This hilltop forest looks the same as any forest in New York or Massachusetts. Some different trees, but essentially the same. Why do I always expect every other country to have things so different that it might as well be another world?

A korean man comes and does some exercise. I click photos. He sees me. I act casual and take photos of everything around me.

Should I stay until sunset to take more photos? I think it will be pretty but my camera doesn't do well with dusk.

I climb down.

In the distance, you can see the Tower of Woobang Towerland.

Some sort of monument.

Today is a long weekend for National Foundation Day. Korean flags are everywhere.

I'm not sure what this is, but it's beautiful.

If you look closely, you can see that the pattern on the stones is actually hearts.

All around the park there were people playing what might be Go. Mostly old men, like the ones who play chess at home. I decide to head home.