Ok, back to home in Nairobi, catching up on boring administrative things, including my contract (one of a succession) up for renewal, and a discussion came up about the next chunk of work. Quite a large chunk, as the project is probably one of the more useful, practical ones that ILRI is doing (ok, ok, I am probably biased). I am to refine techniques I had developed so far, give a symposium (major seminar) about what I had done so far, write a mega paper, do a bit of forward planning etc. Nothing new or unexpected. And the remuneration? Pay? ‘Oh, pay …. there is a problem with that … … : if we are seen to be paying you, we might be accused of nepotism.’

And then I went to the supermarket and got mugged. Nothing actually taken but, boy, what bruises!

That’s Africa for you.

We went to the ancient city of Gyeongju (pronounced ‘John Jew’), a very ancient city that UNESCO has helped restore. The rest of Korea went there too because it was cherry blossom time.

But what a beautiful place to get stuck in a continuous traffic jam, with cherry trees lined streets and a backdrop of steep mountains.

Chokka with temples,

with monks in grey instead of the orange of the Thai monks

Buddhas,

6th century king’s burial sites

and, at this time of year, cherry blossom++.

They really know how to design gardens.

Walking round a trade fair … ever so slightly bored … someone walked up to me and asked if I would like to model a dress (Who? Me? c’MON!!). Might as well. They told me I would have to let them do my hair and makeup, in an appropriate style to go with the garment. Could be dangerous?

Anyway, the garment was the traditional ‘Ham bu,’ Korean dress, and I was dressed up as the empress (needed a mature person?). Good fun. Also had to learn to walk in a dress that was too long, and b - - o - - w (to the count of ‘ down … two …. threeeee … fourrr (in Korean of course) uuuup …. two … thrreee … fouuur.’ And walk slowly. Try not to trip over the dress as empresses don’t do that sort of thing.

Another memorable experience!

Everyone from the Korean Ministry of Agriculture likes coming here for meetings: the traffic isn’t, the air is smog free and clear, the dormitories (think US style, not UK boarding school style dormitories), lots of space and meeting rooms, and then there is Chilly mountain (or is it Gili, Shilli or Chile?). On the left of this photo is the accommodation, with a local family inspecting ‘the foreigner’ half in the expectation of it being a dragon. Europeans are a very rare thing here.

What I thought of as ‘the steep ridge’ just behind the station turns out to be quite high. It has cherry trees spotted around the slopes, and all the paddocks are surrounded by cherries, which are flowering now.

It has numerous little peaklettes the whole way along, looks a bit like the Remarkables in New Zealand’s south island, for those who know them. That might explain why the weather is so cold, but glorious. But none the less, rice planting is about to happen, the little fields are all being ploughed up, and long plastic cloches shelter the rice seedling beds. The cherry and peach trees are just starting to flower, the goats have goatlettes, and spring is definitely here.
The labs are are you would expect in any lab that was well supported, and with a series of long running projects. The only difference was the ubiquitous clocks: all quite magnificent, but a little incongruous. This clock is in the hallway outside my office, the hallway full of fridges as is normal in well established labs.

Whilst I am in Korea, ‘home’ is in a remote part of the country at a research station call Namwon. Being quite remote (like Trangie, a fairly remote research station in New South Wales, only more so) families don’t like to live here, so the (all male) workers live in little bedsits/apartments/cells, and food is provided at a central feeding station. But the scenery is well worth it.
photos to follow!
On entry into the site, one has to dive (fully clothed) into a little glass cubicle at the front gate and get sprayed (holding one’s breath and eyes closed in my case) with some aerosol cloud, with the guard holding the door so you only get out after the pre-ordained time. Only slightly damp, one returns to one’s car, and the car then driven through another higher pressure spray, I assume to keep bugs at bay.
Each little apartment has a computer, bathroom and little kitchenette. One’s bedding one takes out of the cupboard and lays on the floor at night time, replacing it in cupboard in the morning. There is under floor heating so things are very cosy, but the hot water in the shower runs out after about half a litre, so one fills the wash basin with cold water, top it up from a kettle and use a mug. It works. There is also a television, but who needs it when (a) all the programmes are in Korean and (b) the view of the mountain ranges through the window is so magnificent.
Food at the feeding station is southern South Korean style. What one of the resident (Korean) scientists scathingly describes as ‘very healthy - low fat, low salt, low carbohydrate, low protein, high cellulose.’ After each meal everyone gloolps down a little container of Yacoult on their way to the door. Meals are eaten monastic style, in silence, watching a soap opera on the television, but also at great speed in true feeding station style. There are not enough seats when everyone is there, so one should not waste time talking. On this diet I dream of milk, chocolate, eggs, marmite etc. In practice I stop at the local shop (6km away) when I am passing it, to buy a packet of CornFlakes and a litre of milk, thus increasing the protein, fat, salt, sugars and other digestible carbohydrates etc to an more unhealthy level. And as I get more established, I discover that all my collegues have great stashes of junk food, toffees, boiled sweets, potato crisps, heavily laden with the fat, sugar, salt that I dream about. They often drop little heaps of their goodies on my desk ….

Strange things, food preferences. Aussies love their Vegemite (which one can probably enjoy only if one was raised on it before one reached the age of four). Likewise Koreans love their Kimchi (usually cabbage made into a silage), and assure me that I will develop a craving for it within two weeks of leaving. I promise I’ll record if I have any craving for Kimchi that develops before the end of 2007, if it happens. Actually, some Kimchi (such as the sorts made from Capsicums or carrots) are quite nice, but I am passing on the Chinese Cabbage Kimchi. But on the positive side, the cook here (a lovely lady, with whom I share not a word of common language) tends to make my favourite Korean soup and gaves me a plate of strawberries tonight!

On the south east coast of Korea, just about as close to Japan as you can get, I found myself being shown around a nuclear (atomic) power station. Well, one of a row of about six of them, with two more being built.
This is power plant number four:

South Korea gets about 50% of its power from nuclear power stations, and going up. The village that supplies the workers is within cycling distance, no-one is very fussed about it. The turbines, as you would imagine, are huge and noisy. Waste cooling water goes to a fishfarm on the perimeter, where they grow rather fine looking plaice and sea bass.

Just down the road is a well populated beach

One hundred metres or so off the beach is a rocky outcrop.

Easter Saturday. There we were, stuck in a traffic jam in Daegu, a large, provincial industrial town, when who should we see but a Mikey Mouse style Jesus.

Large disney-esque head with beaming eyes and matching smile, waving his larger than life hands at all passers by. With a large choir behind him. When he saw my camera he waved even more at us.
Korea used to be Buddhist and still has a large number of very beautiful temples, some built in the 6th century. This place has major history. But the missionaries arrived about 100 years ago, and the presbyterians got the lion’s share of souls. Every settlement has a church of two, with spire and usually a huge neon cross on top. The singing is much more subtle and tuneful than the Kenyan screaming manic hysteria, but still our monastery cook says her own (private) grace before meals.

Cultural/ historical query: should Jesus really have been stomping the streets of Daegu on Easter Saturday? Wouldn’t Easter Sunday have been more appropriate?

Ok, the last time I wrote about roads I was in Kenya. And my opinion of Kenyan roads has deteriorated. as have the roads.

In contrast, Korean roads are pothole-less. Up to eight lanes. People generally obey the lights and are on the correct side of the road for about 99% of the time. As South Korea is about 80% mountains, they build a lot of tunnels through them. Cars appear to be about 99.9% more roadworthy too.

Said mountains are quite spectacular, lots of rice fields dug into the side. No rice planted yet, because spring in only just springing, and heavy frost still around. But the little seedlings are planted in numerous greenhouses and plastic tunnels, all ready to go in the fields when it warms up, in a couple of weeks.

People usually live in high rise buildings, from which one can see only forests of high rise buildings. Each block has a number, related to the number of towers in that collection of blocks. Here my confusion starts.

The most common numbers are 101 to 109, but some blocks are labled 2043. I believe the ‘collections of blocks’ (estates?) have names. But there are often several estates with the same name. We were stuck in this situation yesterday, when we were invited to dinner at flat 5 on floor 16 (southern end) of block 106 of the Sunshine Estate. Parked car, found block 106, found correct entrance, took lift, knocked on door (feeling ever so slightly smug at having found the place) … … Oh bother. Wrong estate.

But when we finally got to the right place, lovely dinner, company , great flat, well worth it.

Yes, I am in deepest South Korea, and have found the key on the keyboard that changes from Korean script to 26 letters. See, I can turn it on, 뭉 셔구 ㅑㅅ ㅐㄹㄹ! (that was written ‘ and turn it off!). Absolutely gorgeous scenery, mountains etc, nice cool days and crisp nights, no potholes but straight freeways, a secure feeling of orderliness, lots of churches with neon crosses on top and sometimes slightly interesting driving. I am the Korean National Livestock Research Institute at a place called Kamwon, a little place in the middle of the southern part of South Korea. I have been asked to give a seminar tomorrow, and I think I have understood that the main aim is to give people a chance to hear English as she is spoken.

Maybe that means lots of photos of kangaroos and giraffes?