Evalua-

I am having to think about my personal Principles as I read Ray Dalio's book in preparation for an interview at Bridgewater. Despite being what I would consider quite self-aware, I don't think I have ever tried to contain my values so concisely as he does, and I am having  trouble going from lemma to word. Which is embarrassing, because I am WordGirl(tm).

It bears saying that some of the verbiage of his work is unclear to me, probably because he is using terms that are, for me, loaded in a way they are not for him, or are, but differently. "Values" has a special CPI meaning that is not the same as his meaning for it. Being steeped in CPI jargon for the past three years makes this distinction a little harder than it would be coming from somewhere else. 

The most fundamental principle in this book, by its author's own admission is this:

Truth - more precisely, an accurate understanding of reality - is the essential foundation for producing good outcomes.

I think I am having some trouble here. Maybe it's too social-science-y of me, but there are things in the world I do not believe to be that definite and objective. I think there are things of which it is impossible to ask, "is it true?" There are experiences people have that cannot be assessed with this metric. Two people may experience the same episode of something from different sides - the blind men and the elephant - and both be accurate and right in describing what they experienced as reality, without either having a complete picture. That doesn't mean what they hang their hats on is untrue. Asking the binary "is it true" question does not help suss out what is really going on there. I guess I take issue with the absence of the phrase "and complete" from "accurate understanding of reality." Perhaps that's pedantic, but I am WordGirl(tm), and pedantry is the way of my people.

So for me, a truth-based priority - which I'm very much into, as I think a firm grounding in reality is the only way to make change happen - must include these shades of gray. (Not those Shades of Gray. Get your mind out of the gutter). It makes decisions more difficult, but I think that the service it does by respecting everyone's right to their own self-knowledge is worth that. I'm still figuring out the details, because there is a point at which deviation from the accepted reality is indicative of a truly crazy person, but there is a lot of room before we get there that deserves accounting. A rewrite I'd be okay with:

Truth - more precisely, an accurate and complete understanding of a shared reality (requiring knowledge and understanding of the reality as experienced by others) - is the essential foundation for producing good outcomes in a given context (i.e., the one defined by the group with which you're sharing).

Super clunky, but now includes all the pieces I was giving myself agita about before. Now, maybe these are implied components of the original text, but I have not, having read sections 1 and 2 in full, and working on section 3, found that to be substantiated.

I can't wait to see how all the tenets I've heard and read about are enacted by real live humans! I will not report back after I have seen, as I have already signed an NDA preventing me from doing so, but I will vaguely express satisfaction or dis- at the deployment for your wondering eyes. Keep them peeled.

Reunifica-

In the spring of this year, I worked for the Michael Cohen Group as a project manager. The project came from SKP, a branch of the absolute giant, SK, from, you guessed it, South Korea. (Oddly not what the S or K stand for). I really enjoyed the team from SK, and was able to meet up with them for an evening while I was in Seoul! It's always fun to see people in their own environment, and exciting to recontextualize known elements, like a city and a group of people, that you've never seen together before.

JP, Audrey, and Sang were the three of the SK group free that evening, and they brought another colleague, who joined them for follow-on work in New York after I had left. She was fun! I am deeply embarrassed to say I cannot remember her name, except I suspect it of starting with H. All of them speak great English, which is good, because my Korean has atrophied, and was never the Schwarzenegger of my languages to start with. We met up at Sinsa station, and proceeded to walk to a BRILLIANT restaurant just off Garosu-gil, the big shopping street in Gangnam's northerly bit.

Here is why the restaurant was brilliant:

 Yes, you read that right, "Better than Beef."

This is a restaurant that sells nothing other than different preparations of pork belly, called samgyeupsal. Familiar word, right? Because it is the best barbecue option! But here at BtB, it is never barbecue, none of the time. It is all the other awesome ways to eat pork belly!

Also, when socializing in Korea, one must have appropriate libation. In this case, makgeolli, a cloudy rice wine. This was the Blue Label makgeolli, and it was the most delicious of its type I've ever had. High marks.

 This is the gochujang preparation, delicious and spicy. It came with the petit pots de pomme de terre (this is a tongue twister, see how many times and how fast you can say it) you see at right.

This one is the closest to barbecue you can get: a plainly grilled version. The kimchi it is served alongside has sugar as part of its mixture - you can't just dump sugar on already-made kimchi and get a similar taste, I asked - and it is AMAZING. That comes from me, and I am not a kimchi eater by choice.

This was a super funky preparation that had a completely different flavor profile from most Korean food - it tasted kind of like mole. There's no discernible chocolate in it, but I think it was made with Mexican chilies, not Korean ones. It was fabulous! After the sugar kimchi-accompanied preparation, this was my favorite.

Enh, this one had cream sauce and jalapeños. I was not responsible for ordering it, and the most I can say for it is that I am delighted at others' delight in it.

When we finished at BtB, we decided on a relatively nearby place for round 2. It was just up the road and around the corner, and on our way, I saw these two kittens. While looking at them and marveling that any wildlife (ex-domesticated or other) lives in that part of town, a nice lady came and laid out some cat food for them. Now, I feel a little conflicted over this, Internet. I am, on the one hand, very happy to see these little guys get fed instead of starve miserably into cat-shaped holes in the universe. On the other hand, feeding stray cats can end with herds of feral cats with entitlement complexes roaming the streets. Apparently, women of this sort are called "Cat Moms" and are regarded with affection by some but derision by most.

This was the goal of round two: the beer foamsicle. That beautiful little puff thing is frozen beer foam, and it is a nicely refreshing blob of almost-water. Just the thing for a muggy night.

Because this was a Japanese place, we were provided glass noodles with seaweed and the ubiquitous edamame.

This is the beautiful platter of fried things we got in addition to our icy beverages. It includes chicken, pork, beef, sausage, shrimp (for them as wants), and interestingly, chicken hearts. Those were shockingly delicious. Oh, also, that little dish with the corndog looking thing is a dish with an egg in it that you mix with the meatball, which is what that corndog thing really is. SO GOOD.

This is a picture of JP, worshiping at this altar of cholesterol. What the darkness hides is the fact that his eyes are actually in the shape of hearts right here.






We ate, drank, and were merry. We chatted about Audrey's endless shoes, the terrifying qualities of human children (and their benefits, both Sang and JP were adamant that there are some, so don't worry, not totally one-sided), and the universal appeal of grilled meat things (and our shared failure to understand vegetarians. We love animals. They're delicious). It was a wonderful evening. As we walked off to our respective homes, it was a great snapshot of life in Korea, a thoroughly enjoyable revisitation.

Thanks, SKP team, I had a great time with you! Next time, burgers in NYC on me :)

Pictured: every night in Korea ever. Lights, camera, friends. And fried food.

Indigna-

I'm sitting here in my room at the Royal Windsor in Brussels, waiting for my body to forgive it whatever terrible wrongs it feels I've done it (I think it is like the Printer from this comic gem), and watching the Antwerp Gymnastics Expo.

Is it just me, or are gymnastics commentators kind of dicks? Because they seem like dicks. 

DO YOU SEE WHAT THAT PERSON IS DOING WITH HIS BODY?! IT IS AMAZING! I CAN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT SIDE UP! 

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, "OOH, WHAT A SHAME"?! SHUT YOUR FACE, NEGATIVE NANCY.

Reconnec-

In 2010, I joined a choir, the Camarata Music Company, one of the single best decisions I've ever made. It gave me a home, socially and musically, and it was tons of fun! When planning this trip, I found out they were having a concert while I was going to be in town, and I got Ryan, the director, to hold a ticket for me. As the choir rehearsed in Haebangchon, it's an area I got to know really well when I was singing with them, and I found it fitting to revisit with TJ the day of the concert.

 The first order of the day was a burger at Jacoby's. I was hoping that my favorite restaurant, whose name I forget because it was a while ago and I never needed to know its name, it was just That Place I Go When I Want To Eat Good Food in HBC, would still be open. Sadly, it was under a new name, which threw me enough to say I didn't want to gamble on it. So to Jacoby's we went! I'm sorry my head isn't in this picture for scale, but trust me when I tell you that that burger is roughly 0.9 Rebecca-heads in volume. It's big. It's covered with guacamole and cheese, has a piece of bacon that isn't totally flaccid (a victory in Korea) and had this nice grilled pineapple ring, too. Delectable. TJ reports his was good too. I couldn't hear him over how delicious my burger was.

 How do you get to this mecca of burgerdom, you ask? Well, I realized it might be good to have photos of that after we'd eaten and were heading back to the metro, so all these pictures are in a weird order and often in strange directions. Here is what you see walking up toward the restaurant bits of HBC. It's not a terrible hill, but it was a hot day, and it could have been considerably more pleasant. September in Korea is not yet jeans-wearing weather. Learn from my mistakes.

 How do you know when to turn off the enormous road onto HBC hill? By the kimchi pots, of course! So here we are, one landmark closer to the metro, the place where the road in the above picture splits from the massive road on which the metro stop is located. These are the big ceramic urns in which kimchi is fermented over the winter months. This is a store that sells them, not a depot where people store them when not in use. That said, there is no discernable change in the inventory since I was last here. I know, I'm a pottist. They all look the same to me.

 At first glance, the escalator down into Noksapyeong station looks like any other. A normal tube station, you think, just under the road.

 Then you go down further, another escalator.

 And another.

 Remember when you were up there? Yeah, me neither.

 Remember what the sun looks like? It gets a little THX1138 down here...


It's deep, is what I'm saying. Anyway, it was here that TJ and I parted ways, him to go to Dragon Hill in Yongsan, and me to go over to City Hall station, eventually, for the concert. I thought I might stop at Seoul Station for a change of clothes, as I'd sweated through mine and didn't want to see old friends at something so far from my best.

 Here is a common sight: an ajumma (old lady) selling small animals in the subway. This was my first time seeing bunnies, and it was totally worth her yelling at me in Korean for taking pictures to capture this for you. Validate my sacrifice.

 Ahh, Seoul Station. More geodesic domes! Sign of the temple of Lotte! Lotte is a huge name in Korea, from burgers to designer fashion outlets. 

Sadly, the gamble on clothes did not pay off. I was stuck in my sticky clothes, and decided friends would just have to remember my better aspects and love me anyway.

Back into the subway I went, to get over to City Hall station, close to where the concert would be held, so I could attend the dress rehearsal and visit a couple of favorite things over there.

 This is a picture of a vending machine that would never be successful in the states. When exporting the drink, they re-brand it "Calpis," which oddly, doesn't help much.













When I got out at City Hall, I saw a whole barricade bit up right in my way, which was not cool, yo. As I got closer, I realized it wasn't blocking my progress altogether, but there was something Interesting going on.

 It was the changing of the guard at this palace, Dae.....something....Moon. I actually went there in 2010, to tour the grounds, which are like a living museum, and very lovely. I had no idea there was a guard, or that it changed. I saw something like this in Gwanghwamun, which is not far from this spot, but didn't know about the palace guard, especially as it's not an active palace. No royalty live there at the moment, to my knowledge.

 Across from the palace gate is a Dunkin Donuts. Why would I take a photo in there? Because DD in Korea is hard core. This is a photo of my favorite thing that they do: choux. They will sell you a little box (on the bottom) of choux pastries, and give you pastry cream to apply to them as liberally as you like (well, almost. They like to keep the ratios equal, so it can be hard to persuade them to give you two cream portions per box o' choux. Mmmmmm, choux.

 Do not adjust your monitor, that's what the photo looks like, because that's what the sculpture looks like! It's called "Kimchi Pots," and it's a sculpture of a family. Who have all been shrunk only in the Y dimension. The tallest person in there is about 3.5 feet tall, and it's super trippy to look at in person. This sculpture is down the street from DD, the wall behind it is the back wall of the palace complex whose gate is just by DD. It's also right by the intersection close to the church where the choir was performing.

Between rehearsal and performance, I was able to have dinner with Jayleen, who is getting married to her Korean fiancé in 2014! Very exciting news among the other catching-up news that you get when you meet up with an old friend. She took me to a cute little place I'd not been to in the neighborhood, which was also a knitting enthusiasts' shop. It Dr. Seuss trees and tonkasu, which means it was awesome :)

 And then it was time for Jayleen to go sing, and me to go listen. Christine, who came to the choir in the time since I left, and deals beautifully with all its financial needs - and boy have they come a long way! I joined in the choir's second season of existing, and now they have super cool fundraisers at fancy places where they can raffle off tickets from the US to Korea! - gave me her musical score, as she was not going to sing with the group, but be doing admin stuff for the show. She is a sweetie, and I am very grateful.


Here is a picture of my favorite song the choir sang, "Give Me a Choral Medley," and if you or anyone you know/love is involved with a choir and has been for a while, they will be barely able to contain their glee at it, as I was.
 

I realized way too late that I didn't take any pictures of the choir all together, but if you want to see some, go check them out on Facebook, or at their own website. This photo is of Andreas, the master pianist, and his partner in crime for this concert. They played "Rhapsody in Blue," one of my favorite pieces, and it was terrific! The whole concert was a blast, and I'm so glad the timing worked out that I could attend. It was great to be back.

Caffeina-

Korea has a lot of coffee shops. You Manhattanites reading may scoff and say, "That's cute," but I tell you, you got NOTHING on Korea. Delightfully, it is not just the wild prevalence of Starbucks that entitles Korea to the title of Coffee Empire, but the popularity of little independent shops, many of them really interesting. Here is one near our hotel I noticed because of its awning, which reminded me of the Orange Gate installation in Central Park (no relation, it turns out). Then I noticed the name, which was great, because this might be as far from Connecticut as it gets (also no relation).

It was either going to be a tunnel to coffee wonderland, or a horrible gaping maw that would close on us when we got to the far end. Only one way to find out!








And a tunnel to Wonderland it was! Beautiful natural light poured in over small trees (all real), hung with necklaces of felt stones. Why? Because they could! It was very charming, and sold chocolate chip cookies with entire 1/2 oz. squares of chocolate as chips! I could live here.

And on the way out, they wish you a nice, orange day. As testament to my first paragraph, please note that they are directly across the street from a different café, which we also frequented! 

 

It's called the Four M Cafe, and from the front, it looks like a painfully modern, dubstep-blasting place with dark furniture with sharp edges and tiny tables that look like they'll collapse under a single cup. Surprise! It looks like this inside:

Here's a close-up of the 2nd breakfast I had from the post about Insadong: blueberry panna cotta and latte. Good job, Four M! Way to shake off the shackles of expectation!

A spot we ate at several times, and found out later our client loves, too (because it reminds her of her Belgian homeland's coffee spots), was Le Alaska. 


 

Why is it called that? Who can say? Why French and Alaskan? Who cares? They made wonderful food and lattes!

 On the left, an apple... thing, with flaky pastry surrounding vanilla custard with roasted apple bits on top. On the right, another morning (TJ's identical shirt notwithstanding), on which we split two chocolate tarts, one with raspberry, the other with banana. 

WE HAVE NO REGRETS.

And they were so cheerful! Look at these buns, joyous in anticipation of being chosen to be Your Breakfast! How can you deny them? Answer: by going for the chocolatey & fruity options instead. See above.







 



The only downer at Le Alaska were these bears, clearly living lives of quiet desperation. 

Their existential angst was almost enough to put you off your food. But not quite.










Here was a spot I went twice for lattes, because they actually opened at a decent hour (unlike the place directly across the street from the hotel, which opened whenever it felt like it, mostly after 10). What I ordered was an iced latte, which is what you see on the left. Hiding behind it is what you see on the right, a scone with butter and pear compote that appeared without prompting. This is an institution in Korea called, "service," and I had forgotten about it until this happened! Lovely country, Korea.

So, now you know what to expect when you find yourself craving a hit and you're in Seoul. (That is, you will not be able to walk without a latte hitting you in the face and diving down your throat). 

Cheers and bottoms up, fellow addicts!

Burnina-

Remember the incredibly stupid person who went snorkeling without applying sunscreen to her upper back? I do! This is just a brief chronology of the horror that followed. If you are avoiding spoilers while waiting for The Desolation of Smaug to come out later this year, or don't like seeing enormous sheets of flesh disconnected from their original owners, you may want to pass on this post.

 Here is my shoulder, the day after the Great Burning. That strap is usually the color of me, or at least close. You can see some of my more usual color over to the right, where I was witlessly protected by my swim suit from the righteous wrath of the sun. (What was I thinking, leaving my northerly haunts to impudently - IMPUDENTLY - swan about the tropics? The nerve!)

On the left is one of the many swatches of self that came off in Korea. What you see on the right is my thumb inserted between the burnt layer and the layer of somewhat-better skin, first step in harvesting what you see to the left. Yup.

 Here is a photo of Sherman's March to the Sea. Oh wait, no, that's my shoulder blade. This was about a week after the burn first happened.

Eventually, at about the end of our time in Korea, I got to this stage: still discolored, but no longer sloughing skin like a snake.


At present, from a decently far off vantage point, my back just looks tan. Closer up, you can see a weird splotchiness to it, with that bumpiness you can see in the photo just above. I wear my basketball-textured cloak as a reminder of my shame, and the importance - the imperitance! - of applying sunscreen EVERYWHERE.