Our First Korean Typhoon

We returned to Korea in late August after spending two weeks in Idaho/Oregon to find out that we had missed a couple of typhoons and near constant rain. Korean summers are absolutely miserable, marked by excessive heat, humidity, and precipitation. I am trying to have a really good attitude about winter this year because I find the summers infinitely worse.


Unfortunately, we did experience one final typhoon a few days after our return. We awoke at 5am to winds at speeds we had never before experienced and rain so heavy you could barely see through it. By 8:15, when I usually leave for school, things had calmed down a little bit, but when we looked outside there was no one on the streets. I waited until 8:20 to see if my co-teacher would call me to say that school was canceled or closed (I knew the chances of this were slim), but when I didn’t hear from her I was forced to venture outside despite the stormy conditions.

Everywhere I looked I saw trees parallel to the ground, debris, downed power lines, and billboards stripped of everything except their frames. While the wind continued to rage, I made my way to school, running through areas with an abundance of trees. It was definitely one of the scarier events of my life. As I approached the school I walked by several restaurants that had collapsed and I almost walked into live power lines flapping in the wind. Luckily I was able to hear a Korean man yelling at me to watch out in Korean over the wind. Throughout the walk I was suspiciously one of the only people on the streets, and as I got closer to the school it was very apparent that there was no one at school. Just as I arrived at school I heard my phone ring. I glanced down and saw that my co-teacher was calling. Her first word were, “What are you doing?” I responded, “Uhhhhh, I’m walking to school.” I don’t know what she said next because it was in Korean, but her next words in English were, “Why are you going to school?” At this point I was super annoyed. “No one called me, so I assumed we had school. What do you want me to do now?”


I ended up going inside (fortunately the doors were unlocked) and I sat in the dark until the staff and students arrived 2 hours later. The power was out, so my only option was to read in my increasingly hot and humid classroom. Thankfully I had a book with me.

I don’t really know who was making the decisions at this point, or why everyone was forced to come to school. Because the power was out, there was no way for teachers to use their computers, and no way for the cafeteria to make lunch. Everyone, students included, arrived at 11 am only to leave at noon. Of course, the teachers were forced to stay all day. This made for an extremely miserable day because we didn’t have power until 4pm, meaning there was no air conditioning. It was probably close to 90 that day, and the humidity was such that it left you with a constant damp and sticky feeling. By lunch time I incorrectly assumed we would be allowed to go home or leave to get lunch, but for some reason the Principal decided we had to stay at school. Unfortunately, there were no open restaurants nearby because our area had sustained quite a bit of damage. By this point I was cranky and frustrated, but I tried to hold in my complaints. I couldn’t understand why no one else was irritated that we had to stay at school in the sweltering heat with no power or food. Around 12:30 my co-teacher showed up with a loaf of bread and gave me a few pieces. Apparently this was lunch.

The day ended at 4:40. After 8 hours of reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo I was allowed to head home. Even though the things that happen here at times defy logic, I was amazed as I walked home to find that there were very few traces of the typhoon remaining. Within a day or 2 everything had been repaired and in several areas new trees were planted. Even though I question Korean decision making at times, they definitely know how to get things done quickly!

Deer Cave and Lang's Cave

I don't expect much from tour guides. Usually, I am just so happy to be anywhere other than sitting in an empty Korean elementary school classroom that I could care less how many English phrases he or she has memorized or how many historic or botanical factoids they can spit out. This holds especially true in those life alteringly beautiful locales like Angkor Wat, or a remote Fijian village- two destinations we had the pleasure of experiencing this past year. In those instances, I could really care less if the path we are led through is littered with doe-eyed kids begging to sell a knick knack, or if it happens to conveniently snake around the guide's uncle's souvenir shop.

I don't remember much of what our young guide at Mulu National Park in Sarawak had to say, but he was instrumental in pointing out all the creepy, crawly critters of the jungle, and didn't mind a bit if I dawdled slowly behind to take a picture. For this I am grateful.

Big ole flat looking slimy snail on the trail

Someone said this guy looks like he's made of metal. I like that.

There were also pictures of beautiful butterflies, but the creepy things are more interesting.

This was actually from the walk to the sky bridges earlier, but I wanted to include it anyway...

There is a little picnic area outside of the entrance to Deer Cave and Lang's Caves. This is the spot where visitors gather in the evening to view over 2 million bats as they exit the caves simultaneously for their nightly bug hunt. Under the covered area there is all sorts of information posted on bat species around the world, and even more nuggets of knowledge regarding the local varieties and surrounding ecosystem. I was somewhat surprised to learn that a very small percentage of bats actually drink blood (if they do it is the blood of small animals). Most bats eat their body weight in insects nearly every night. I say "nearly" because the bats do not come out if it is raining during their scheduled wake up time. At 2:00pm or so on the day we visited, the skies were starting to become overcast.

The view of the entrance to Deer Cave from the viewing area.

We waited in the covered area for the morning wave of guided tourists to finish and make their way out. Apparently, only so many people are allowed in the caves at one time. When our number was called, we entered through a tall, aluminum gate and walked around in a paved semi-circle from the left side up to the corner of the massive cave entrance where illuminated moss gave way to complete darkness. Deer cave is immense (the second largest in the world area wise we were told) and it was easy to feel like a hobbit underneath such a high ceiling surrounded by immense crags of rock. We were told that at no point inside does the cave ceiling fall below 90 meters and it is just over 2 kilometers in length. Once we were inside a ways, we were instructed to turn around and look out where the outcropping of rock along the cave opening formed an uncanny Abraham Lincoln silhouette.

Honest Abe

Eerie as the entire situation was, I didn't once feel uneasy regarding the estimated 2 million bats sleeping above our heads. I was more concerned with what lay on the ground outside of the roped off, cement trail. The ground to the left and right was covered with bat guano, which just looked like a fine dirt and really didn't smell like anything other than earth. Not surprisingly, the guano is considered excellent fertilizer and is harvested by local farmers for use in black pepper fields. An entire ecosystem subsists on the ground that surrounded us, but, while other caves in Borneo are famous for carpets of giant cockroaches, my flickering head torch illuminated surprisingly few. I did, however, make the mistake of placing my hand on a post that was littered with the bastards.

Yikes! I guess they weren't roaches, but freaky nonetheless.

The path around the left perimeter of Deer Cave led to the "Garden of Eden" where a hole in the roof lets in light and green vegetation thrives. There is even a spectacular "Eden's Shower" in which water emits onto a large rock table from a Seuss-like stalactite spout.

Sami inside Deer Cave

Inside Deer Cave.

This, I believe, is the Garden of Eden inside Deer Cave

 Much more Suessery was to be had at Lang's Cave next door. Even though Lang's is the smallest of the four show caves we visited, it may well be my favorite for its crazy array of stalactite formations. Coming from Deer Cave, the quarters felt cramped, but everywhere we turned there was a new outcropping of limestone deformed by constant dripping that blew our minds. Sculptures like these could not be created by the mind of man no matter how much LSD the artist dropped beforehand. Of course, none of the pictures I took turned out that well, but that didn't stop me from snapping away.

Inside Lang's Cave #1

Inside Lang's Cave #2

Inside Lang's Cave #3

 When we finished it started to rain hard so we put on our ponchos and made our way back down to the bat exodus viewing area. Many of our fellow tourists bypassed the rest stop, certain that the bats would nap through the rain. Since we were leaving Mulu before the next day's bat departure time, we chose to wait it out. While we were sitting, there was a little bit of drama as some European tourists blamed a group of Chinese tourists for swiping their nice ponchos. I sat and observed giddily, always being one to enjoy confrontation when not a participant. A slight smile formed at the corners of my mouth as a Chinese man confusedly handed over a coat. What did he think they were- gifts?

Waiting for the bats...

After the fifth or sixth time of ignoring Sami's suggestion that we head back to the resort, the bats came out in wispy puffs to the delighted shrieks of onlookers. They all descended from roughly the same spot, but there was no telling which direction a group would ultimately flee too. I nearly made myself dizzy pointing the camera in the air and twirling in circles. Of couse, it was approaching dusk when the rain halted long enough for some of the bats to decide to exit, so my pictures weren't nearly as cool as others I had seen. Still, it was a cool experience that I am glad we stuck around for.

Bat Exodus

By the time we walked back it was pitch dark. Hungry, we were able to pass quite a few travelers, but soon ran into a backlog and had to walk at the pace of the crowd. In the dark we could make out all the sounds of the jungle. The croaks, caws and monkey calls were even better than anything the guides had told us about on this most memorable day.

Running

My nipples are rubbed slightly raw. This unwelcome sensation is the result of yesterday's atypical workout. I say atypical for two reasons- first, yesterday was a Saturday and I never workout on Saturdays (mainly because Sami has has usually planned an outing for us at least a week in advance which always seems to revolve around her favorite activities: yoga, lunch and a trip to the bookstore- however I can't complain since I have made fall Sundays my Duck football sanctuary complete with beers and cursing at 5:30 a.m.) and second, I spent the entire workout on the treadmill after having eschewed running completely the past three months.

Recent cardiovascular neglect aside, I was able to stay on for an hour and 48 minutes- 13 miles exact. I didn't initially plan to run a stationary half marathon, but I must have been mentally prepared for something out of the ordinary after having toted a stick of anti-chaffing balm, purchased in preparation for our hike up Mt. Kinabalu, along with me to the gym. I generously applied the substance to the area between my thighs pre-workout, but didn't even consider my nipples until around mile eight when they began to burn slightly inside my standard issue, communal polyester gym top. Periodically, I attempted to dull the pain by jabbing a thumb into each one. Instead of coaxing them out of their erect state, however, I only succeeded in injecting salty sweat into the affected areas and thereby intensified the sting.

Worse than this, my iPod died at the ten mile mark. If it wasn't for my iPod, I am sure that I would never even attempt to run. I mean seriously, how boring. With the music blaring, I can take my mind to a place far away from aching legs and chaffed nipples. With the music blaring, I am sitting down next to John Fogerty in front of thousands, scraping thimbles across a musical washboard as he belts out a solo to "Suzie Q" (hey, my daydream not yours). I guess it should come as no surprise that many of the songs on my playlist contain some conjugation of the verb "run" in the title. There is "Running on Empty," "Run Through the Jungle," and who can leave off "Born to Run." Even my favorite Talking Heads "Psycho Killer" doesn't have "running" anywhere in the title, but still contains the adrenaline producing verse: "run, run, run, run..run, run awaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!...oh! oh! oh! oooooooohhh!!! aye!!! yaye!!! yaye!!! ooooooo!!!!!!!!"

I went through a spell a while back where my iPod battery would die after about ten minutes. Naturally, when this occured, I would only run for ten minutes and then just go lift weights. Back before I had an iPod I never ran, except in high school where I participated in track. Even then, five miles was my max and I had no intention of ever running further than that. Eventually I began to give up faith in my tired iPod, and in turn, running alltogether. The original headphones I had been using were falling apart- the white plastic had cracked and the only way to keep its innards from spilling out was to secure it by wearing a headband. Only instead of wearing the headband like a normal person (and really who wears a headband anymore besides LeBron James) was to make it come down over my ears. I looked like a dork, which is fine with me, but when Sami caught wind of this accessory error she promptly ordered me to purchase new earphones. Magically, the new earphones have brought the iPod back from the dead and the battery lasts longer than it has in years.

Of course, another reason I am able run further- MP3 resurrection aside- is that I have dropped over 35 lbs, as referenced in this past post. An added benefit of slimming down is that now, not only does my Under Armor no longer make me appear pregnant, but I also don't tire as quickly.

Still, thirteen miles is pretty damn far. A few people have even told me unsafely far after not running for so long, which made me feel pretty cool. But, why push myself? Why care? After all, who am I trying to impress? It is not like I set any sort of goal, and I definitely don't strive for a body like a marathon runner. I think it comes down to this: I have never experienced true athletic success.

I went to a small high school so I had the opportunity to play on the basketball, football and track teams. In basketball, my teams were inconsistent at best, god-awful at worst. In football, we were talented, but never able to make it past the second round of the playoffs, and saddest of all, never able to beat our crosstown rivals in all my four years. My biggest disappointment was also my last competitive athletic event: the state track meet at Hayward Field. I ran the 800m and while I was certain I had no chance of winning, my goal was to make the finals and win a medal (all finalists get one). The top 8 make he finals and I missed it by .03 seconds.

I always think back to that race whenever I am on the treadmill. There are things I could have done differently, I am sure. I ran too fast on my first lap and that left me winded at the finish. I was in the lead for the first 600 meters before being pushed a couple of steps onto the infield by passing runners. I could actually hear the crowd gasp as I regained my footing. On the homestrech I could make out one woman screaming my school name, urging me on. I was so amped up to be running on the same track where all of Steve Prefontaine's heroics occurred. I am certain I gave it my all, but I always wonder if I could have just gritted my teeth harder, balled up my fists tighter (not proper form by the way, but still), kept my head down and pushed a little deeper, just maybe I would have made up that .03 seconds.

Still, maybe if I had experienced some success, things would have turned out differently. Perhaps I would be content to sit around, drinking beer and eating potato chips (ok, of course I do that, but not daily). Who knows, maybe my competitors in the state meet are all out of shape now- not obese by any means, but easily pushing the duece and (in my mind) balding and/or gray on the sides.

Anyway, I guess I should be thankful for these losing experiences and feel fortunate to always be chasing that .03 seconds. Even if it takes a working iPod and 13 miles to get there.