The Jump of a Lifetime
Those of you who know me personally, know how passionate I am about a particular hobby of mine. That hobby is cliff-jumping. I love it. I love the total experience of not just jumping off cliffs, but also the experience of discovering new places and being able to appreciate the beauty of some relatively unknown places in Korea. The activity is more than just jumping. There is a good deal of hiking, rock (free) climbing and swimming involved. It’s good exercise, and I certainly can use all the exercise I can get these days.
This last weekend I returned to where it all began for me - the island of Geoje (거제도). My good friend Zach has been jumping with me for 2 years now in Busan (부산). I’ve been eager to show him the places that started the cliff-jumping phenomenon here in Korea. He’s returning to the U.S. this week, so we decided to have one last trip together. Since we were the only two out of the group that we regularly jump with, we called it the ‘executive retreat.’
We arrived late Friday night and tried to sleep in the car, because we’re both cheap. It turned out to be next to impossible for us to do that, so we went and got a small yeo-gwon (여권), which is essentially like a youth hostel. We woke up early that next morning and walked over to the cliffs I used to jump at with my good friend Will, who was during the genesis of the cliff-jumping experience. I was anticipating the gigantic cliffs of my memory and the picturesque landscape around us. The landscape didn’t disappoint, but I was shocked at just how small the cliffs seemed to me. The tallest one was well below where we had been jumping in Busan. It was turning out to be a disappointing day, as I knew the other place we would look to was even smaller than this place.
On our way back to the car, I happened to mention to him that there was a cave nearby that I had never gone into. We checked it out and discovered that this place would be a great place to jump from. It was at least as high as the place in Busan (approximately 60 ft.). We started jumping and couldn’t believe how fun and scary it was. The waves were really crashing in, and the sea was quite rough. Getting out of the water was a challenge, but it was well worth it. After about 2 hours of jumping at this place, we decided to move on to the next place, and verbally confirmed with one another that if we were unable to find anything else as good, we would come back to this place again. This place made the trip worthwhile, if there were no other places with good jumping.
We headed off to the next place. However, instead of going to the place I usually went (the place shown in the blog post titled ‘a story of three friends’), we decided to go to a rock beach and explore along the coast. At first we were only able to find small jumps, maybe 10 - 25 ft. Looking along the coast there seemed to be wonderful, sheer cliffs, but most of them were either too difficult to climb up out of the water to, or they were too shallow or had scattered rocks in the would-be jumping area. After a relatively long swim, probably about half a kilometre, we found a place that looked good. There was an easy place to exit from the water, and no rocks in the water below. I started to climb up, and it was a tricky, scary climb. This place was higher than any place we had previously jumped. We figure it was around 70 - 75 feet. The jump was exhilarating! There was a platform about 15 feet higher than the one we jumped from, and I attempted to climb it. I climbed up about 4 feet and then completely lost my nerve. I kept thinking of my wife and daughter, and my knees began shaking. I have done difficult, vertical climbs before - there were vertical places in the climb below - but never at this height. This cliff would be the first cliff-face to defeat me in Korea. I couldn’t move upward, and so gave up the pursuit. It was a truly terrifying experience. I made the same jump again, and then we decided to move on and return later if there were no better places. This would be our last chance to jump together, so we wanted to go as high as we possibly could.
Around the corner, we found a place that equalled the height of the last place, but which had a much easier climb. We nicknamed it ‘the cheat.’ This place had a platform around 60 feet and a higher platform at around 75 feet. Again, the jump was thrilling. These heights gave for a great feeling on every jump, and they were much easier to do because they had full platforms which allowed us to run into the jump. After doing these jumps, I looked up and noticed it seemed like there was another platform higher up. The climb, again, was simple. Upon reaching the platform, I began to grow scared. Was I really going to jump from this height? We double-checked the water below, and I just decided I had to go for it. I threw a rock out to where I wanted to land, and used the ripples to guide my jump. Keeping the ripples in sight, I began running. I couldn’t stop myself and so I had to jump. Once in the air I kept doubting whether or not this was a wise idea. I was falling, falling and falling some more. It seemed like I would never hit the water. Incredibly I hit the water and as I entered the water, something like a flash went before my eyes. I don’t know what it was. I came up out of the water full of adrenaline. I was thrashing the waves, kicking the water and screaming out of sheer excitement. I would use two words to describe the jump: insane and exciting. Climbing up out of the water, it took me a while to come back to reality. My whole body was shaking from the sheer excitement of what I just did. I really have never experienced anything like that before.
Zach had climbed to the top, and then I joined him. As we were at the top, we observed that we were at the point of the cliff where the trees were growing, and that we were so far from the water that there were no sea cockroaches here, but rather there were ants. Apparently I was in the air for over three seconds!
After some conversation, Zach went for it. He made the jump and came back up with no smiles. He was bleeding from his mouth. Apparently he had chipped three teeth and bit his tongue so hard that it was bleeding. It was a high cliff. After seeing that, I was a little bit scared, but I knew I could do it again… so I did. I jumped again and received no less thrills than before. I remained unharmed, having a perfect entry into the water.
At the end of the day, we saw amazing scenery, explored new territory, and jumped off some cliff-faces which probably had never been jumped from before - or ever will be again. I love this sport, and I was happy to be able to share such an amazing experience with a friend who shares the same passion as me. The Lord is good, and has created some amazing places for us to enjoy. I’m thankful that He was gracious to me to allow me to have this experience.
Showing posts with label Korea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Korea. Show all posts
Monday, August 08, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Real Stories (I)
Service!
I’ve lived in Korea for over six years now. Time has just flown right by. I never expected I would live here for so long. Yet here I am. I’m practically a citizen! With time spent living in a foreign land, cultural differences often disappear from the memory. What once stood out in my mind as strange practices by the Korean people are often now taken for granted as cultural norms everywhere. When I visit Canada, the place of my birth, I often have what I can only describe as ‘reverse culture shock.’ I’m surprised by some of the practices of my fellow Canadians, and I’m reminded with a faint memory of a time when I used to do those same things. I guess what I’m saying is that I’ve been somewhat Koreanized.
Thankfully there is a season for recollection. Every March and September here in Korealand, there is an influx of new teachers; new bodies to give me a reminder of a life, a system of manners and social expectations I once knew. I had one such recollection this last week.
At the school I’m presently working at, we’ve had a new ‘foreign’ teacher come to work for us. He’s part of a new program that teaches after-school classes. His contract is a little staggered from the norm and begins a month earlier than usual. Since he’s here early, I’m able to spend time in the workplace with a newbie. I get to see firsthand the reactions of someone in the actual workplace. Usually when I meet people who are new to Korea, I only see them in a context outside of the workplace. This time, I get to see him at the workplace, and I’m reminded of some of the questions and pressures that come with starting a new job in a new country.
This last week we were treated to a dinner by our school. It was officially a farewell dinner for myself and another teacher, but included a welcome to Andrew (the new after-school teacher) and another new worker (I’m not sure his role at the school). This dinner contained the usual fare of the men drinking it up and eating like horses. Literally eating like horses. Mouths open, making a kind of slopping sound, little bits of food falling from their mouths to the table. Completely disgusting. This is a recurring bit of culture that I’ve still not completely used to. My wife (a Korean native) and I often laugh at this aspect of Korean culture. She says that she never noticed it until she met me, since I was so adamant about keeping my mouth closed when I chew. Now she can’t stop noticing it.
The metamorphosis into horses during mealtime is not what I want to write about, though. I’d like to call to attention a fascinating piece of Korean culture that reveals a lot about the difference between the Korean and Canadian psyche. This piece of culture is the term ‘service (서비스, suh-bee-seu).’ The difference in thinking about customer service and what ought to transpire to make a fair business transaction is a pointed mark of difference between cultures. Let me demonstrate this from the story of our dinner.
During the dinner, the oldest teacher and the vice-principal began talking about what free dishes ought to be included with our meal. Nowhere was it advertised that if you buy a certain amount of food you could choose other menu items gratis. It was just assumed. There is a feeling that runs deep in the Korean mind that when you buy something from a business, they ought to include other peripheral things in the sale. This is visibly seen at restaurants, where a restaurant is often judged by how many side-dishes are included in any given meal. My wife often comments about how she likes or dislikes a restaurant based on the quality/quantity of their 반찬 (bahn-chahn), side-dishes. This is a marked point of difference with Canada, where we have a whole section of our menus marked ‘appetizers.’ I remember buying a plate of onion rings from TGIF’s in Michigan last time I visited, and complaining to the manager because they gave me 5 onion rings in total. He explained to me that they were given by weight, not quantity, and in the end he gave me another plate. My mind couldn’t process the fact that this restaurant was charging me somewhere around the area of $6 for 5 onion rings. It was an absurdity that couldn’t be reconciled in my brain.
One night last week, however, my mind was transported back to a time when I believed you ought to pay for everything you get. Andrew served as a sort of time machine for me, as I saw how perplexed he was at the situation (his parents are Korean, so he can understand the Korean language). Eventually they decided they wanted some plates of 만두 (mahn-du), which is a fried dumpling with meat inside. The staff brought out 3 heaping plates. Later on in the meal, my colleagues decided they wanted more, so they asked for some bottles of alcohol on the house. They were told that the restaurant couldn’t provide this, but that they could provide some specialty desserts. After a bit of grumbling and back and forth banter between the vice-principal and the manager of the restaurant, an agreement was reached and we received a few plates of a specialty dessert and a bowl of duck eggs. Just another dinner in Korea.
This is not a rarity here. My mother-in-law is always able to get extras thrown in when she buys something. My wife is always asking for samples from cosmetic companies, even when she makes a small-ish (around $20) purchase. I bought a 6-pack of beer once because it came with a badminton racket. The racket was just taped onto the side of the pack. I’ve gotten mugs from boxes of cereal, ear-muffs from bottles of juice, and boxes of Kleenex for spending $50 at a grocery store. The idea of service here is that money is hard-earned and isn’t to be thrown away. A good purveyor of goods or services is concerned with more than just a profit. They are concerned with the welfare of the consumer. They are concerned with creating a relationship with customers that creates long-term customers. The idea of customer service back home as I can remember it, is that you do whatever you can to make the sale with as little effort and cost to you. If you provide a service related to your product, you charge for it. If you are a serviceman/woman, you expect a tip no matter what kind of service you give, and no matter what kind of attitude you have while serving. Service people here bow to you, try to be as helpful as possible without the expectation of a tip. I’ve tried tipping people on numerous occasions because I was truly moved by the quality of service they provided. It was not accepted. The people couldn’t even understand why I would offer it to them. My wife has taught me that to offer a bottle of juice or a candy bar is a much better way to show my appreciation. What a wonderful concept!
One night at dinner, I was given a glimpse into the vast gap that lies between my native culture and the culture I currently live in. I have to say that this is one area where Korea puts my culture to shame.
I’ve lived in Korea for over six years now. Time has just flown right by. I never expected I would live here for so long. Yet here I am. I’m practically a citizen! With time spent living in a foreign land, cultural differences often disappear from the memory. What once stood out in my mind as strange practices by the Korean people are often now taken for granted as cultural norms everywhere. When I visit Canada, the place of my birth, I often have what I can only describe as ‘reverse culture shock.’ I’m surprised by some of the practices of my fellow Canadians, and I’m reminded with a faint memory of a time when I used to do those same things. I guess what I’m saying is that I’ve been somewhat Koreanized.
Thankfully there is a season for recollection. Every March and September here in Korealand, there is an influx of new teachers; new bodies to give me a reminder of a life, a system of manners and social expectations I once knew. I had one such recollection this last week.
At the school I’m presently working at, we’ve had a new ‘foreign’ teacher come to work for us. He’s part of a new program that teaches after-school classes. His contract is a little staggered from the norm and begins a month earlier than usual. Since he’s here early, I’m able to spend time in the workplace with a newbie. I get to see firsthand the reactions of someone in the actual workplace. Usually when I meet people who are new to Korea, I only see them in a context outside of the workplace. This time, I get to see him at the workplace, and I’m reminded of some of the questions and pressures that come with starting a new job in a new country.
This last week we were treated to a dinner by our school. It was officially a farewell dinner for myself and another teacher, but included a welcome to Andrew (the new after-school teacher) and another new worker (I’m not sure his role at the school). This dinner contained the usual fare of the men drinking it up and eating like horses. Literally eating like horses. Mouths open, making a kind of slopping sound, little bits of food falling from their mouths to the table. Completely disgusting. This is a recurring bit of culture that I’ve still not completely used to. My wife (a Korean native) and I often laugh at this aspect of Korean culture. She says that she never noticed it until she met me, since I was so adamant about keeping my mouth closed when I chew. Now she can’t stop noticing it.
The metamorphosis into horses during mealtime is not what I want to write about, though. I’d like to call to attention a fascinating piece of Korean culture that reveals a lot about the difference between the Korean and Canadian psyche. This piece of culture is the term ‘service (서비스, suh-bee-seu).’ The difference in thinking about customer service and what ought to transpire to make a fair business transaction is a pointed mark of difference between cultures. Let me demonstrate this from the story of our dinner.
During the dinner, the oldest teacher and the vice-principal began talking about what free dishes ought to be included with our meal. Nowhere was it advertised that if you buy a certain amount of food you could choose other menu items gratis. It was just assumed. There is a feeling that runs deep in the Korean mind that when you buy something from a business, they ought to include other peripheral things in the sale. This is visibly seen at restaurants, where a restaurant is often judged by how many side-dishes are included in any given meal. My wife often comments about how she likes or dislikes a restaurant based on the quality/quantity of their 반찬 (bahn-chahn), side-dishes. This is a marked point of difference with Canada, where we have a whole section of our menus marked ‘appetizers.’ I remember buying a plate of onion rings from TGIF’s in Michigan last time I visited, and complaining to the manager because they gave me 5 onion rings in total. He explained to me that they were given by weight, not quantity, and in the end he gave me another plate. My mind couldn’t process the fact that this restaurant was charging me somewhere around the area of $6 for 5 onion rings. It was an absurdity that couldn’t be reconciled in my brain.
One night last week, however, my mind was transported back to a time when I believed you ought to pay for everything you get. Andrew served as a sort of time machine for me, as I saw how perplexed he was at the situation (his parents are Korean, so he can understand the Korean language). Eventually they decided they wanted some plates of 만두 (mahn-du), which is a fried dumpling with meat inside. The staff brought out 3 heaping plates. Later on in the meal, my colleagues decided they wanted more, so they asked for some bottles of alcohol on the house. They were told that the restaurant couldn’t provide this, but that they could provide some specialty desserts. After a bit of grumbling and back and forth banter between the vice-principal and the manager of the restaurant, an agreement was reached and we received a few plates of a specialty dessert and a bowl of duck eggs. Just another dinner in Korea.
This is not a rarity here. My mother-in-law is always able to get extras thrown in when she buys something. My wife is always asking for samples from cosmetic companies, even when she makes a small-ish (around $20) purchase. I bought a 6-pack of beer once because it came with a badminton racket. The racket was just taped onto the side of the pack. I’ve gotten mugs from boxes of cereal, ear-muffs from bottles of juice, and boxes of Kleenex for spending $50 at a grocery store. The idea of service here is that money is hard-earned and isn’t to be thrown away. A good purveyor of goods or services is concerned with more than just a profit. They are concerned with the welfare of the consumer. They are concerned with creating a relationship with customers that creates long-term customers. The idea of customer service back home as I can remember it, is that you do whatever you can to make the sale with as little effort and cost to you. If you provide a service related to your product, you charge for it. If you are a serviceman/woman, you expect a tip no matter what kind of service you give, and no matter what kind of attitude you have while serving. Service people here bow to you, try to be as helpful as possible without the expectation of a tip. I’ve tried tipping people on numerous occasions because I was truly moved by the quality of service they provided. It was not accepted. The people couldn’t even understand why I would offer it to them. My wife has taught me that to offer a bottle of juice or a candy bar is a much better way to show my appreciation. What a wonderful concept!
One night at dinner, I was given a glimpse into the vast gap that lies between my native culture and the culture I currently live in. I have to say that this is one area where Korea puts my culture to shame.
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