Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Stomp your glasses, get eye surgery

My eyes went bad early. For most people, it’s the changing shape of our eyes that makes our vision worsen as we age, and mine started changing in elementary school. The correction was slight enough that I could do most things without wearing my glasses. But the older I got the more I had to wear them.

When the doctor prescribed contacts at age 14 I thought I was saved. Glasses at night only. No more straps around my neck on the basketball court. No more four-eyes comments on the playground.

I loved my contacts. I loved them too much. By the time I came to Korea the contacts had sucked out all the moisture in my eyes. Add that to the air quality, particularly during Yellow Dust season, and I abandoned them completely.

So I was back to full-time spectacles. My optometrist brother hooked me up with good, fashionable frames for cheap. They looked good enough, fit right, and I hated them. Wearing glasses distanced me from my environment. They made me feel less engaged somehow, less part of my surroundings -- more of an observer than a participant.

Eye surgery is not a revolutionary idea, I realize. But, for me, a person who has always had a strong aversion to doctors and operations, it meant something that I would willingly pay to have a doctor slice my eyes with lasers.

I have a great Korean friend who is also a doctor. For the initial tests, he took me to a clinic recommended by mutual friends. During the evaluation, the technician put in anesthetic eye drops and pressed against my cornea with a handheld tool. I asked him if he was touching my eye. Then the room got hot. The problem came from what I couldn’t feel; I knew he was touching the surface of my eye but I registered no sensation. My blood pressure dropped. I went pale. Droplets of sweat formed on my brow. I put my head in my hands, focused on my breathing, and fought off a feint.

Glasses, I told myself. It’s either this or endless glasses.

I took a few more breaths, sat up, and told him to finish.

After the tests the doctor told me I had thin corneas and would need Lasek, not the more common Lasik, surgery. Clinics here offer Lasik, but Lasek is also used. Lasek is a variation of Lasik. In Lasek the outer layer of the cornea is cut with a finer blade. Then the surgeon covers the eye with an alcohol solution for around 30 seconds. The solution loosens the edges of the epithelium. After sponging the alcohol solution from the eye, the surgeon uses a tiny hoe to lift the edge of the epithelial flap and gently fold it back out of the way. Then out comes the laser to sculpt the corneal tissue underneath. Afterward, the epithelial flap is placed back on the eye with a kind of spatula.

I made an appointment for a month later. Then I went home and thought it over. I loathe going to doctors, but if I could see without any aid! It would cost 2 million won ($1,900), which was a good amount of money. But considering that I spent hundreds of dollars each year on eye care -- glasses, contacts and contact solution -- the surgery would pay for itself in less than 10 years.

The morning of the surgery I asked myself if I couldn’t handle the simple preliminary tests, how could I make it through the procedure?

Glasses, I told myself. And Xanax. I made sure my friend brought plenty of Xanax.

I went into the clinic and they had me go upstairs. Most of this was in Korean, which I don’t speak, and only the essential parts were translated to me. There was a lot of sitting around confused. Then somehow I found myself staring down a phlebotomist. I do worse with blood than technicians prodding my eyes (feinted at the blood bank in 7th grade, went pale multiple times in high school biology.) After the translation the Vampire said he needed my blood to make serum for eye drops. It would help my eyes heal faster, he said.

He took out a strap, wrapped it around my arm, and drew out seven vials of blood. At about the sixth vial my blood pressure dropped again.

Glasses. Do you want to wear glasses? Do you?

Now the only thing left was the lasers. Before the surgery my brother had told me Lasek was a good option for my prescription. But he also said it wasn’t a common procedure in America. Patients find it too painful.

I was trying not to think about that when I lay down on the operating table. They kept the room cold. The doctor had a good, calm manner about him. He and his nurses administered anesthetic eye drops, a device to keep my eyes from blinking, and began the procedure. I looked up, down, and at the green light as per the doctor’s orders. In 20 minutes it was over.

I stood up and walked out of the room, smiling with relief, my eyes barely open but I could still see.

We stopped at the pharmacy and then my friend drove me to his house. The protective contacts made my eyes uncomfortable but I had eye drops for that. In fact, I had five bottles of drops, one made from my own blood. They gave me no additional pain medicine.

When I got to my friend’s home I took a pill and fell asleep. I incorrectly thought I’d wake up healing; hours later I sat up moaning, in severe pain. Nothing I had ever put in my eyes, not soap, not sand, not the wrong contact solution -- nothing had ever caused me more optic pain. I sat up and took two Tylenol ERs and put in the anesthetic eye drops. That didn’t dent it. I woke up my friend and like a good doctor he snapped into action, shooting me with a syringe full of painkillers. That did it.

That moment was the worst of it. I was back at work in five days and in a week I had nearly perfect vision. Two weeks later friends tell me my eyes look brighter. They do. And I already forgot where I banished my glasses.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Five pictures of Udo





Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Wolmido and Night Shots from Namsan Tower





Saturday, July 19, 2008

Gates and Alleys (Jeonju)





Friday, July 18, 2008

Beat the Heat with Dog Meat, or Dogs are Not Delicious


When it’s hot outside nothing cools you down like a bowl of dog stew.
On one of the hottest days of the year I checked my phone. I had a text message:

HAVING DOG SOUP IN HONGDAE IF U KEEN

ARE YOU KIDDING?

NOPE…YOU KNOW…WHEN IN KOREA…

For years locals have enjoyed summertime Bosintang. Bosintang literally translates to “invigorating soup” -- one of many foods known as Good For Man. According to Koreans, what’s good for man is dog meat boiled with soy paste, green onion, leek, stalk of taro and red pepper.

The soup is traditionally eaten on the hottest days of the year. As with the chicken soup samgyetang, Koreans believe eating the hot food when the outside temperature rises makes the heat less noticeable.

With the heat index over 40, I met eight friends -- two Korean, six from places where people eat questionable meat but not dog -- at exit #2 of Hongdae Station.
Our group was quiet as we walked up the street. We walked slow, barely talking, looking at our feet. A few people made bad dog puns. We were travelers, adventurers -- of those who often said “I’ll try anything once.” Now we were forced to prove it and it felt grim, like being caged.

On the sign out front a smiling woman held a large, white cartoon bone.
Typically you would see a cartoon drawing of the animal you’re about to eat. I half expected to see a fattened Goofy. But since the negative international attention Korea got for dog cuisine during the 1988 Seoul Olympics they have hidden their love of dog. Korea banned dog meat during the Games by invoking a law prohibiting the sale of "foods deemed unsightly." After the Olympics, the ban was not strictly enforced.

As we came to the doors of the restaurant somebody said, “Looks a bit dodgy.”


We walked in. The restaurant was empty with the faint smell of wet pooch. We took a table in the back and sat cross-legged on mats.
The Korean man with us ordered dog for eight. (One of the group chickened-out, literally, and ordered samgyetang.)

We waited for the food by sharing stories of the strangest food we had eaten. It was like we were at the zoo -- people talking about kangaroos, crocodiles, testicles, buffalos, cats, etc.


“We’re going to get some soju before this, right?” I asked.


Despite the palpable dread, it was late in the evening and I was hungry. The first batch of meat came on plates in chunks wrapped loosely in steamed kale and seasoned with red pepper.
We ordered beer and soju and I made sure I had a shot before we started.

I used my chopsticks to pick up a piece of meat. It was dark, thick and about three inches long.


“My mom used to run a dog restaurant,” the Korean man said. “I eat this many times.”


Nutritionally, 100 grams of dog meat has 20 grams of fat and 19 grams of protein. The meat is high in iron, phosphorous, niacin and riboflavin.


I put the piece in my mouth and chewed. It was tough and tasted slightly of lamb. I thought about spitting it out, but like a good traveler I swallowed it.
Then I understood how a Third World country would find eating dogs economical -- after I ate a single piece I was no longer hungry.

For the second course, the woman brought out bowls of red, steaming Bosintang. The broth of the soup tasted like other Korean meat stews. But I stayed away from the meat. I ate my rice and that was enough.


The meal cost 14,000 won ($13) and I walked out feeling little cooler than when I walked in.
Now, when I see dogs on the street I don’t think “you’re cute” or “you look ferocious” -- instead, I think “you’re not delicious.”

Sunday, July 06, 2008

Shine Your Candles on North Korea

Anti-demonstration protesters. The woman's sign reads "Shine
Your Candles on North Korea", the man's says "No no demo."


South Koreans continue to turn out in the thousands to protest imports of American beef while 40 kilometers to the north, North Koreans struggle to eat.

On Saturday, about 300 protesters opposed to the on-going anti-Lee Myung Bak candlelight demonstrations rallied at the headwaters of the Cheonggye Stream. At City Hall, about 50,000 people protested U.S. beef imports, in the second-largest demonstration over the past two months.

Eun Joo-Kim, a North Korean who defected to Seoul in 2002, was visibly upset when she spoke about the groups protesting American beef.

“North Koreans don’t have food, and here in South Korea they’re saying ‘which beef is better,’” Kim said.

Riot police divided the counter-protest group from the anti-President Lee Myung Bak protesters. At one point the two groups faced each other, both sides holding up signs. The anti-Lee protesters’ signs read “Lee Myung Back Out” while the counter-protesters’ read “Shine Your Candles On North Korea.” They yelled back and forth but no physical conflict arose.

A week ago, 37,000 tons of wheat arrived in North Korea, the first of 500,000 tons of food aid promised by the United States, according to the World Food Program.

At a stage set up the Cheonggye Stream, a North Korean defector spoke to the crowd about a man he met in prison who cannibalized a woman for lack of food. Next to the stage a big-screen television showed videos of recent protest violence.

The anti-Lee protests have grown increasingly more violent. Videos and photographs of assaults on protesters and police have circulated on the internet.

John Yim, a Korean who recently returned from living in California for six years, said he ate a lot of “galbi,” or barbecued ribs, in America and he misses American beef. He spoke against the economic effect of the protests and violence against the police.

Nick Chiassoa, an American English teacher in Gangwan Province, expressed sympathy for the riot police and disdain for the economic ramifications of the protests.

“(The anti-Lee groups) have a right to protest, but they don’t have a right to cripple the city’s infrastructure,” he said.

Separately, an international non-profit organization operating out of Washington, D.C. marched for human rights in North Korea. The group of about 30 South Koreans, North Koreans, Korean Americans and expatriates, all clad in black, held a mock funeral to “ask the South Korean people to help raise awareness for the sufferings of the North Korean people.”

Adrian Hong, director of the organization, said South Korea’s concerns about beef are valid but that he would rather see them putting their energy into the human rights situation in North Korea.