MIM Trip - A little bit of Seoul

At Hyundai's Asan manufacturing plant, where they make roughly 1,200 cars a day. Yikes

I will readily admit that, of our four cities and three countries on the MIM Asia Trip, Seoul was at the bottom in terms of preference; I've studied Japanese so long that finally making it to Tokyo was great, Shanghai is a massive modern metropolis, and Beijing is host to a wide variety of fascinating Chinese history. Seoul? Eh.

(I don't think it helps that I was not terribly happy with the travel getting to Seoul. From hotel to hotel in about 10 hours? Arriving after midnight? Whacking my head in the airport tram at Incheon? Big baby right here).



The parking lot at Hyundai Asan is also a fair representation of Korean roads: Good luck finding something that isn't Hyundai or Kia.

However, because I had such little knowledge of the city and country, it's been a big surprise. Tokyo felt very tight — even the major roads were very, very narrow, the raised highways frighteningly so — but Seoul feels a lot wider, bigger, much more like Seattle or Portland than Tokyo. Also, the drivers are a bit crazier here (on my unofficial driving scale, going from little old lady going to church at one end to Los Angeles on the other, Tokyo is close to Portland, whereas Seoul tips toward L.A. China is apparently batshit crazy too). Also, EVERY car here is a Hyundai. Dead serious. Gotta love strict importation laws preventing competition...



This is also definitely my "stranger in a strange land" experience as well. Sure, Tokyo's on a different continent, but it's fairly westernized, I've studied Japanese forever, and I've been reading my travel guide for Tokyo religiously. You can get around Tokyo with zero Japanese very easily. Seoul, however....not counting brand names for western companies, I've seen more signs and markings in Japanese around here than I've seen signs in English. Gaijin charades abound, especially since only one of my graduate cohort is intimately familiar with the Korean language. That said, the place seems nice enough — right near our hotel is a big downtown shopping district, kind of halfway between the excesses of Shibuya in Tokyo and what I'm anticipating the Silk Market in Beijing will be — that is, while there are real stores with legit goods down these alleys, it seems like a good chance to find fakes.



While we had a lot of time to hop around Tokyo on our own, we've been really limited in Seoul. The first full day here was basically dedicated to a DMZ trip, which was fascinating in ways I couldn't comprehend without being here. What you might not be able to wrap your head around is that this is a country still at war. Of course it's not an active, hot war, but when you hear from your tour guide about when Korean men generally get their required army service out of the way, and you see barb wire fences and guard posts lining the highway in the last few kilometers leading up to the DMZ...you start to get the idea a bit.





The above is just about all they'll let you take photos of at the DMZ — actually, what they'll let you keep photos of, I should say. There's a large yellow line about twelve or fifteen feet behind the rail and, while they'll let you go up and look through binoculars to peep at North Korea, you really can't get any kind of photos.



Our tour also went down to Tunnel 3, which is the third of four found tunnels dug by North Korea trying to...well, I don't know. Prepare for an invasion? I guess. Our guide said he believes the South Korean army knows that 13 or 14 tunnels exist, including the four that have been found; chances are there are more and, considering the short 30-mile distance between DMZ and Seoul (which has about 40 percent of South Korea's population in the vicinity), it's not too shocking. The North denied Tunnel 3's existence and, apparently, North Korean soldiers painted the walls black to say it was a coal mine; the South turned it into a tourist trap and profited, upsetting the North to no end. They wanted a cut of the profits!



It's indicative of a very complicated relationship between South and North. I get the feeling that many in the South feel pity for those stuck in the North, and save their hatred for a pig-headed and dogmatic regime that's fractured what was previously a country united for centuries. The hope for re-unification is strong and romantic; there's very real issues that will need to be addressed if and when that happens — the north/south gap is far, faaaaaaar worse than West and East Germany were — but the most cynical of South Koreans just want to delay the cost instead of saying they don't want to address it at all.





The example that really drove this into my mind is Dorasan Station. It's the northernmost train station from the South before going into the North, and it was used for a few years early in the century by the tourists who were allowed from the South to the North to one of a very, very few tourist locations. It's standing still, and as nice a station as any I saw in Japan — it's now a symbol of hope, an extended handshake just hanging in the air until such a time as it's needed. There's still a departure gate for Pyeongyang, and...it's hard to explain. It's just a very palpable, romantic thing to actually see in person.



Hyundai Asan was fascinating for other reasons. Remember what I said about every car in South Korea seemingly being a Hyundai? Here's part of the reason why. Nearly 350,000 cars a year roll out of Asan for the world market, namely the Sonata and Azera (which are both available in the U.S.). Seeing a huge production plant — one that can roll out a completed car once a minute — was absolutely stunning. I've seen plenty of documentary shows on Discovery Channel and the like about auto manufacturing plants (thanks dad!) but seeing one, walking through one, seeing the robots spot weld, check each body with a laser...seeing cars born right in front of my eyes was spectacular. It's on an enormous, unfathomable scale, made even more impressive because Asan is a highly vertically integrated facility — from raw sheet metal waiting at one end of the factory, to finished Hyundais at the other end, everything can be done at Asan.



So I leave South Korea with a much greater respect and understanding for the country, an amazing sense of sympathy for a country that desperately wants to be one again, and a strong suggestion to give Seoul a chance if you have the opportunity. It's not quite as cosmopolitan as Tokyo, but maybe that's not a bad thing.

MIM Trip — Shashin de hansshiteiru

Remember that old cliche about photos and thousands of words? So much has happened between the first post on my Asian excursion and now that I feel the need to drop some photography in here. All of my photos from the trip so far are available from my Flickr account page.

A variety of photos from Tokyo:









Enjoying (ahem) lunch at a plant tour

Photos from a day trip out to Hakone, approximately 2 hours outside of Tokyo by train











Fuji-san! (aka Mt. Fuji)





More shortly about South Korea.

MIM Trip - Hajime Tokyo

I believe the sign as you walk down the stairs to customs at Narita Airport says "おかえりなさい," which means "welcome home" or just plain "welcome." After spending the last two months of class with the spectre of the Asia trip over our program, getting lined up at PDX to begin the journey felt like a huge relief and a reason to be excited.

Good grief, though, 11 hours on a flight was one of the more mind-numbing experiences I've ever had. At least with a similar day spent on the road, the scenery changes, you (usually) have more leg room, and at least you can roll the windows down. Airplanes feel like air-conditioned death after about six hours; 11 feels like a marathon.



It wasn't until well after I arrived in Japan that I felt like I really arrived in Japan. Riding to the hotel from Narita, checking in, everything else felt incredibly similar to the United States; walking down the street, past vending machines offering packages of cigarettes for a few hundred yen, to a ramen-ya right across from Shinagawa Station (one of the big rail hub stations in Tokyo) that I felt like I was in another place.



After a couple of meetings this morning (you know, business stuff - the reason we're on this trip) we had the afternoon to run amuck in Tokyo. A decently sized group of us set off to Akihabara and scattered from there; me and my group spent the afternoon wandering up and down the main road, staring up at glittering neon, poking our heads in back alleys and dodging the dressed up girls looking like cosplayers passing out flyers to get you to go to the maid cafe they represent (I pray those links are safe, they're both to Wikipedia so you should be fine). I really want to go back at another time and look through a couple of stores.

Exhausting the possibilities in Akiba, we hit the Yamanote line again and shot over to Shibuya.



Take note of that crosswalk - it's absolutely unreal to really fathom the mass of humanity in there. If you've been to Times Square in NYC it's like that...times a lot. It's amazing. So is the selection of shops there, too — from huge department stores like Tokyu, Shibuya 109, Bic Camera, and more, to tiny holes in the wall like one we got roped into, which had the tightest freaking spiral staircase of all time.



The train system has been amazing to get to learn, Japanese toilets are awesome, I've had two great ramen meals and bought a hot drink out of a vending machine (they're even labeled as "warm") and am starting to see the sense of equivalents to $1-$6 coins and a more cash-based society (good god a Post Office ATM was kind of a pain to find, but I do know where it is in Shibuya now). I can't wait to explore more of the city and get into the subway proper, even. Shame none of the cool clothing I've seen will fit ever...



The full Flickr set (which will be updated) is available here. Mata ashita.

The Itinerary

One of the big calling cards of the Portland State Masters of International Management program is the Asia field study trip.

It starts tomorrow!

February 28 — March 5: Tokyo, Japan
March 5 — 8: Seoul, South Korea
March 8 — 13: Beijing, China
March 13 — 20: Shanghai, China
March 20 — 26: Back to Tokyo for spring break.
March 27: Return back to Portland.

I want to do at least one write-up per city (hopefully more) along with photos to document what's bound to be an amazing journey of discovery.

Time to finish up packing.

The Road Not Taken (...and where my road has led)

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

Where I've been spending quite a bit of time since June. Photo by Doug Bonham

Life throws a lot of curveballs. If I've learned anything in the last year, it's a confirmation that sometimes things don't go to plan, but still work out in the end.

The last post on this site is from April, right after I moved home from an attempt to start something in Boulder, Colorado. In the time since then, I've weighed graduate school options, been accepted into a program to try a whole different direction, made some wonderful friends, re-connected with friends and family in Portland, and generally lived the life.

Since the summer, I've been working on starting up as a member of the new cohort for Portland State's Masters of International Management program. It's a graduate business program, like an MBA, but also focused on Pacific Rim economies — China, Japan, South Korea. It's also a program with a lot of international students; along with a lot of students from the United States, there are Chinese, Taiwanese, and Thai students.

Working first through pre-requisite classes, and since September the first term proper, has been an interesting, eye-opening experience. I never thought I would take to business as easily; I never thought aspects of things like accounting would prove as interesting.

As well, since the spring I've been working along with friends from the University of Oregon journalism school on a video game-themed web site. Myself, Nick Cummings, Aaron Thayer, Tyler Martin and others have joined to work on SiliconSasquatch.com. We've been writing, recording podcasts, and trying to create good, relevant content on a regular basis. Since finding a career in journalism is hard enough work right now, we've decided to strike out on our own and, hey, even if it doesn't lead anywhere, at least we're having fun.

That is really what life has been about these last few months. Studying, learning, making new connections, strengthening older ones, and taking the road less traveled by.

The Return

Colorado






Utah








Idaho











...Oregon

The warm hug of nostalgia

Hanging out with a friend (or group of friends), gathered on couches around the TV, playing video games. I'm sure I'm not the only kid in my generation for whom this is a classic scenario. It still happens from time to time in my life, too - I got to sit down and play Street Fighter IV with my man Nick last time I was in Portland.


What you see when playing Retro Game Challenge: Not just the game, but the two kids playing the game...(okay back in 1980s Japan, but still). Image from gamersinfo.net

I just picked up and have spent a little bit of time with Retro Game Challenge for the DS, which has a convoluted history and in-game story, but plays on the imagery of sitting around and playing games with your friend. I caught the buzz for the game after hearing about it on every single gaming podcast I listen to, and that word of mouth convinced me to track the game down.

The game is actually based off a Japanese TV show, Game Center CX, in which the host is challenged to complete a variety of classic video games. Retro Game Challenge is a game based off that - you still have to face challenges put down by Game Master Arino, but the translation is done so that it's a way for you to escape imprisonment in 1980s Japan.

Okay. So you play lovingly crafted games based off 8-bit video game tropes (space shooter, 2D racer, ninja platformer, basic RPG). Big deal? Well, as the screenshot above shows, the game goes on on the top screen; on the bottom, it's you and your friend (apparently Arino c. the time period) and get to hang out as kids playing games. Arino chips in - "AWESOME!", "INCOMING!" - and when you even select to go play a game, it shows your character scooting on the floor over to the bookshelf.

Sure, you're lounging on tatami mats in a very Japanese apartment playing a Japanese Famicom lookalike...but man, the sentiment is there. The Internet is great and all, but sometimes you miss -itting down with a friend and playing pass-the-controller to play a single player game. Sometimes it's the childhood nostalgia that gets you the most.

Who watches "Watchmen"? I just did

Yes, it's accurate; but is it good?

Just returned home after seeing Watchmen on the big screen - didn't make a midnight showing Thursday night because of going to the Nuggets-Blazers basketball game, and didn't go last night because I would have slept through it! But I made the trip tonight and have some thoughts.

Primarily I'm just really, really glad that Zack Snyder made the Watchmen movie that he did because, in his own words, if he didn't somebody else would have - and if somebody else would have, it most likely would have been changed (more) from the original source and sucked.

This movie categorically does not suck. It is as good a transition to film as there will ever be - I don't even mind the alterations to the ending (deciding to cut out a side story entirely necessitated the movie to end the way it did). Costumes, setting, tone, everything was truly faithful to the book. I love the beginning montage during the credits as an introduction, even if they did take a couple liberties with things insinuated in the book.

And while I swore up and down I wasn't going to be influenced by the voices and writers who said "it's *too* faithful and a touch limited as a movie," I am forced to agree - simply because this isn't the right medium for it.

With a regular novel - like, say, The Lord of the Rings - before the movies, the books did not live as a visual medium. Like all novels, it was up to interpretation and your mind's eye to paint between the lines that (in that case) Tolkein set out for characters, settings, everything. We know Frodo is a hobbit and that he most likely has certain traits, but the way he looks and talks is up to the reader's interpretation.

Same with how scenes are acted out. While there might be occasional blocking in a novel, it's not as specific - or, indeed, graphic - as within a comic book or graphic novel. While Snyder may have had a handy, dandy storyboard in the form of the original Watchmen, that in my mind is a bit of a set of golden handcuffs - you have to get it absolutely right. Any deviation and the fans go wild.

The other major gripe I have is going to sound banal and snobbish, but so be it. Watchmen the book works absolutely perfectly and is a masterpiece of late-20th century literature in part because it uses its medium so well in telling the story. While the movie is still good, some scenes drag on film where they'd make much, much more sense on paper in ink. Flashbacks - especially for characterization of both Rorschach and Dr. Manhattan - worked much, much better in the graphic novel than they did in the movie, and that's more down to the medium actively helping the storytelling more than anything else.

One minor gripe with the movie (besides the necessary evil of cutting out "The Black Freighter" sections, which led to altering the ending) is that it paints some details in much bolder strokes than in the book. Without giving away too much, background details related to The Comedian and (in the book) old-time heroine Silhouette - which are done very subtlety in the graphic novel - are given much broader strokes in the movie, which is as much a function of the movie format as anything else.

While Watchmen the movie is indeed rather awesome - I think those who haven't read the books will enjoy it, even if it does drag a bit in the middle - for no fault of its own, it falls short of living up to the source. In most book-to-novel cases this has to do with cutting content, but for these, it's more because it's not set on the right stage. And that is through no fault of the movie.

Heart vs. Head

Welcome back to Seattle, Junior.

One of the underlying storylines in sports in recent years has been the building movement of statistical analysis. Ever since Moneyball was released in 2003, the argument has come to the forefront and divided some lines - especially in baseball, where traditional thinkers like to judge with their eyes only. It's been gaining steam in basketball, too, in recent years, but the stronghold of "sabrmatricians" (the term for such stat-heads) is on the diamond.

Statistics say that Ken Griffey, Jr. is going to be a very, very average player for the Mariners this year, and that he should avoid seeing the field as much as possible. If you were being even more cynical, you'd say he should only ever face right-handed pitchers, too. That's what parsing through the numbers and statistics available to fans and analysts say, at least.

The romantic, the fan, the one seeking out a story, that person thinks Junior returning - quite possibly for his final season - is going to be awesome, regardless how he does this year. "He's coming home!" It's like being transported back to 1998 again, to see Griffey in teal and blue smashing home runs out of shiny, new Safeco Field and patrolling center field, pulling a Spiderman impression and leaping up against the wall to steal a home run.



That bat twitch. The effortless swing. The casual trot out of the batter's box as another home run is crushed. Sure, the memories are just that - memories, sugar-coated, and so very sweet - but if we don't have those sweet dreams as fans of sports, all we have are box scores.

I fully admit to wanting Griffey to come home to Seattle for purely selfish reasons. It's like wanting to go back and re-live the best childhood memories. I want that Ken Griffey, Jr. who was on the poster in my bedroom to walk back out on to the field when Opening Day comes, but that's a fantasy. You can't go back home in the same way again, but the nostalgia trip will be great for all involved.

Sure, statistical analysis is great - incredibly useful. But without nostalgia - great play-by-play calls, amazing images, wonderful memories - sports are almost meaningless. There's room for romanticism alongside the science.

The power of stupid memories and cheesy jingles

I hope to god this embeds properly, because it's been making the rounds of sports sites and is awesome.

There's a music store across the street from my office that says, "Without music, life would be a mistake." Even though I would sound like a strumming monkey were I to pick up a real guitar, or act like a three-year-old given a couple of wooden spoons and pots and pans if I sat behind a real drum kit, I love music. Love it, love it, love it. Specifically listening to it (playing Rock Band gives me the ersatz creation feelings I crave, in lieu of above-mentioned lack of real talent).

And while it's said that scent often triggers the strongest emotional connections, music has those, too. What's funnier is how songs like the above-embedded YouTube clip - of John Tesh's "Roundball Rock," much better known as the iconic NBA on NBC theme song - work into a sports fan's heart and well up memories on its own.

It's silly, it's stupid, and performed live or found on MP3, it's a long-ass jingle. But just that spark of "Roundball Rock" brings up so many images of the NBA because the period that song was used to introduce NBC's coverage was a watershed for the sport: Jordan. The tail end of Bird and Magic. Hakeem and my Blazers. By the end of NBC's coverage, Shaq and Kobe were forming a terrifying combination as the Forum was about to come to a close for hoops in Los Angeles.

Quite possibly the greatest era in one of my favorite spectator sports is encapsulated in that wonderfully early-90s-tastic song.

I know I'm not the only one who feels this way about "Roundball Rock," and I know the NBA isn't the only sport to have a signature tune. Across the pond, Formula 1 coverage on the BBC in the United Kingdom had one opening song for an entire generation - the ending bass-riff from Fleetwood Mac's "The Chain." From the late '70s through to 1996, the visuals might have changed, but the rising shriek of guitars accompanied the intro. So when the BBC won back Formula 1 broadcast rights starting this upcoming season, there was little doubt there'd be speculation about The Chain returning:



Sure, that's fan-made, but lovingly so and if the real thing is close then I wouldn't be surprised. Having seen older intros as well on YouTube, I get it.

Just like how - as cheesy as it is - the ever-altered Monday Night Football theme still ties in emotions. Or how Canadian fans consider the Hockey Night in Canada theme to be as part and parcel to the coverage as legendary commentator Don Cherry's flagrant suits.

I would say it's as important as hearing other theme songs for popular TV shows or movie series, but though I may be biased as a sports fan, the connection with the intro theme song is greater - for the same reason why sports make for some of the best human drama. Nothing is planned or staged out ahead of time, and it all unfolds, real-time, right in front of your eyes. The connection with sports teams runs deep, and, just like how a college fight song can be universal to school alumni, the theme song for certain sports stand out.

It doesn't always work - most of the ones in major American sports right now are forgettable at best, though Baseball Tonight's jingle is pretty good - but the transcendent ones stick with you. Which is why I'm going to try to make "Roundball Rock" into a ringtone-sized MP3 file, again, and set that on my phone, just to see if I run into another sports geek who wells up with stupid emotion at the sound of John Tesh's master work as much as I do.