Remembering my Grandfather Leonard

From July 2010...

In the midst of choosing his suit and recommending pall bearers, Pop forgot to tell us what he wanted in his eulogy,  and so I am left to my own devices this morning. I can only reflect on the last 25 years of this wonderful man’s life.  If you want to go back a bit further, please find his sister or children. They can tell you stories. And if you want to go  back a lot further, please find Cousin Mae or his best man, Jack, they can tell you even more stories. But, for now,  I just want to reflect on the small things that I noticed as his grandson – his ingenuity, smile, kindness, wit, devotion, and sense of humor.  My initial impressions of Pop, from the mid-1980s, are much different from the ones I have now. My earliest memories  include him, Grandmom, Uncle Frank, Uncle Chas, Aunt Teresa and other assorted characters from the Armstrong and  Payne families sitting around the kitchen table, telling stories and having a good time. I also recall huge batman comic  books in the basement and the watermill he kept on the back deck. Even at a young age, I was amazed at the way he w orked with his hands. In fact, as I was writing this, the fan in my room broke and I couldn’t help but think “Pop would know why this fan broke.”  His ingenuity can be seen throughout 416. Someone mentioned the other day that a contractor never set foot in the house.  An architect might show up and draw him the plans, but then he would do it. His ingenuity is one of many nuances we will  miss about him. He was skilled with his hands and put those skills on display every Friday night at the bowling alley. As kids,  it was rare that we were allowed to stop by the bowling alley on Friday nights – I can’t imagine why they were keeping  the under 10 crowd out – but it was there that I stared in awe at his team’s name and wondered what it meant. My wonder has changed.  Now, I wonder how many of those nights he stopped by Callahan’s on the way home. Or how many times he followed it up  with a Saturday night trip to Cavanaugh’s with Grandmom. My later memories of him include stories about the war - the canteens (he and his fellow soldiers) used and food they ate  while traversing the German countryside and the R&R they took in France. As I grew older, I recognized his devotion  to my grandmother more and more. He never left her side. He was dedicated. In these ways, he was not an overcomplicated man.  Upon hearing the news that I was moving to China, he said it would be much easier to move to 11th and Race. This was a  reflection of his simplicity - and in that little statement, you could see his wit. He always had something clever to say.  That wit of his – I think that is what I will miss the most. In the days following Grandmom’s passing, which I am sure were  incredibly difficult, he maintained his sense of humor, referring to 416 as “The bachelor pad.” No situation was taken too seriously,  which was a key to his longevity. And he did not complain or make excuses. In fact, just the opposite was true. If one was seeking  kind words, you could do no better than Barney. I guess that’s one of the reasons the line stretched down to 25th street last night.  My brother Brendan, who could not be here today, reflects on Pop’s curiosity about his grandchildren’s lives. Whatever sport  Brendan was playing, Pop wanted to know about it. Brendan also recalls stopping by 416 a few weeks ago. Pop was watching the  Phillies game and informed Brendan shortly after he arrived that Cole Hamels was a bum.  There are certain things you take for granted, simply because they are the staples of your life. Aren’t everyone’s parents from Schuylkill?  And everyone’s uncles and aunt are kind and humorous, right? I took these things for granted until the last few days when person after  person repeatedly commented on how polite all of Pop’s children are. This is a tribute to him and it would be an understatement to say  that the man obviously did something right.  We will miss you, Pop. In the simplest terms, we miss you already. Schuylkill has lost one of its finest. And, after nearly four years apart,  we hope you have found Grandmom and your siblings and that all of you are sitting around the kitchen table of heaven, enjoying each  other’s company, entertaining each other, and having an Ortlieb’s. You wouldn’t have it any other way. And neither would we.

Remembering my Grandmother Eleanor

From September 2015...

Coffee nips, spaghetti on Styrofoam plates, Planters peanuts, Hi-C, Micro Magic French Fries and Dixie cups in the freezer - These are some of the fond childhood memories my cousins and I have of visiting my grandmother on Upland Street.

Grandmom would always greet us with a big smile on her face. She had a record player in the living room and would play songs like: “Putting on the Ritz, Grandma got run over by a reindeer, and YMCA.” She loved to sing and dance with us. Her house was a children’s paradise. The typewriter and building blocks in the basement, the train tracks running through the backyard, someone feeding us juice and I even think I took a sip of beer once – what a loving place for a child to explore.

Grandmom would hand us money just about anytime we saw her and hide eggs at Easter filled with dollar bills and candy. She was once quoted in the newspaper saying – “my grandchildren keep me young.” She loved our company and we loved hers.

When I was five, I asked my mother, “Is Grandmom El our great grandmother?”

My mom asked, “Why do you say that?”

I replied, “Because she's so great to us.”

While we kids were exploring the backyard and basement, our family and friends would gather around the living room table, enjoying conversation and a Meister Brau with Grandmom. She loved her beer. In an article from the Philadelphia Inquirer, celebrating her 80^th birthday (in 2003), the author of the article wrote, “When the rest of the world ran out to buy water and duct tape to gird for a terrorist attack, Eleanor bolted to the liquor store and bought two more cases of beer.”

Years later, she would move to Lansdowne Ave. That was when things began to change. She was still Grandmom, but she wasn't drinking anymore. I remember being surprised at how well she took that. She was still taking SEPTA to get around though. She loved taking SEPTA wherever she had to go – the 13 trolley to work or taking my mother as a child on the bus so she could see the smashed up cars at the junkyard.

Earlier this week, I found out the before the 1970s, Grandmom actually wasn’t a grandmother. Hard to believe, right? Before that time, she was a dedicated wife and a loving mother, working at Sunray Drugs and Penn Mutual to help support her family. She was Aunt Winnie. In her downtime, she enjoyed playing the lottery, watching game shows, and listening to Dean Martin. She enjoyed smoking cigarettes. “I wasted matches,” she said. “No sooner was I lighting one then lighting another one.”

And, before 1946, she wasn’t Grandmom or Mom. She was Eleanor, working at the family restaurant at 2^nd and Chestnut, and dating my grandfather. “Whenever I wanted to talk with him, I’d call his house and ask ‘Did you call me?’ ‘No.’ ‘Oh, well, someone called me, but they didn’t leave a name so I thought it was you.’” She was a witty, young girl, the daughter of Helen and Charles, enjoying life on 57^th Street.

And by the good grace of God, she spent her final years a few blocks from where she grew up and where she was married – here, at Little Sisters of the Poor. Just last month, I stopped to see her a few times. Over ice cream, we would discuss her past – her father’s police beat in West Philly, her mother from Mahanoy City. We talked about the shore – she would help her sister at B&B cold cuts. During down time, Pop-pop and the girls liked the beach, but she loved the boardwalk, “Those were the good ole days,” she said.

I will miss her terribly. I already do. I hope she is gathered around the living room of heaven with Pop-pop, Aunt Lucille, Uncle Paul, GG and everyone else she loved. I hope her son Thomas is sitting on her lap. Everyone gathered around – sharing laughs, telling stories, and singing songs. If I close my eyes I can picture it. I hope you can too.

Snow Day

We just returned from a quick trip to Chinatown and the Reading Terminal. God bless snow days. God bless Uber. Neither one of us felt like taking our cars out, but we both wanted to get out of the house for Dim Sum and fresh lemons.

Yesterday, I ventured to Brendan’s with Matt to watch the AFC title game. I was happy my Broncos conference play succeeded. A few of Brendan’s buddies were there and we were all equally relieved to get out of the house, stop shoveling, and watch some football.

Saturday was the day we got hit with the storm. The previous night, I ventured to the movies to watch “Anomalisa” and when I returned home, I shoveled the front and dusted off the car. By the time I left the house on Saturday afternoon to shovel again, we had at least another fifteen inches of fresh powder on the ground. I dug a walking path on our sidewalk and the neighboring sidewalks as well. Denise cooked a lot – from hot chocolate to stuffed squash to fondue pretzels, she went all out and took care of us.

Break Trips

In Chambersburg, you turn the light on and off with a switch. In Eaton Hollow, you rely on daylight, fireplaces, lanterns, and flash lights (sometimes you even wear one on your head).

In Chambersburg, you adjust the water temperature from 85 to 90 by nudging a dial. When you’re finished with the shower, you point the head to the left so the next person gets sprayed when they turn it on. In Eaton Hollow, we didn’t shower.

In Chambersburg, we sat on our beds, watching television and drinking beer. In Eaton Hollow, we sat around the fireplace, having conversations and playing games.

In Chambersburg, if you had to go to the bathroom, you took a few steps. In Eaton Hollow, you walked fifty yards to the outhouse or peed on a tree.

In Chambersburg, we never turned on the heat. The temperature was comfortable enough with intermittent rain. In Eaton Hollow, we were drier and colder. There was no heat dial. You threw wood on the fire and chopped wood the following day.

A week ago today, on December 27, we took a long hike. We encountered a lumberjack and asked for his advice on pleasant sights nearby.

“Well, hell, I just don’t think we have anything like that. There’s a golf course that my daddy runs about 45 minutes away.”

“Oh well, at least we asked,” I thought.

“And, there’s the largest reservoir in the mid-Atlantic region about a half mile down the road.”

It’s incredible how he mentioned that last.

Chopping wood and wearing a flashlight on my head were two things I had never done before Eaton Hollow. Now, I look forward to doing them again.

In Chambersburg, the walk from the car to our room measured roughly forty yards. In Eaton Hollow, our walk wasn’t a walk. Our walk was a mile long hike – a winding trek that included alternating terrain: twisting woods, steep hills, and damp, leaf covered paths.

In this way, hiking was an inherent part of the Eaton Hollow trip whereas in Chambersburg, we needed to make a conscious effort to find a place to hike. In both places, setting out for hikes was done in a whimsical nature. We sort of knew where we wanted to go, but the specifics were shady.

With all these differences, I would not choose one trip over the other. I would not judge them. I will simply say they were both enjoyable and if I could go back in time, I would not change anything. I would go on each trip and let each evolve as they did: with plenty of laughs, imbibements, and spiritual moments along the way.

Mondays in Nebraska and Massachusetts

Video journal of three Mondays on the road

Fridays Across America

Video journal of three Fridays on the road. 

Return of the Blog

With twelve days left until my flight leaves for Detroit, I have decided to resurrect the blog I adored during my original, glorious twenty months in China. This summer, I will be going to Xi'an with fourteen other Chinese teachers. We will be studying China's language, culture, and history. I can hardly think of a better place to study China's history than Xi'an, which was the capital of China for roughly 600 years.

Swelter

I just got back from a night at Sunny and Jake's. It was good to catch up with them and talk about my first day at DPT. We also watched the Phils total three hits in 11 innings in a 6-3 loss to the Braves and talked about the heat. It went over 100 today and it will again tomorrow. The only heat I can compare this to was from my time in Shanghai. This time two years ago, the temps were consistently near 100 degrees - at midnight. During the day, it was near 110 and the only place you would think about going was indoors. I'm pretty sure I posted something about at the time...gonna go check now....

My Website

I finished taking an amazing class at Temple University last week. The name of the class was "Building Technology into the Classroom" and we learned a little bit about a lot - webquests, scavenger hunts, presentation software, whiteboards, google earth, assistive technology, and creating websites. Regarding the last aspect, here is the link for it:

http://sites.google.com/site/armstrongnihao/

Owls vs. Wildcats

Yesterday held a rare treat for me as I got to attend a Big 5 basketball game for the first time in several years. The results were outstanding. North Philly's Finest knocked off the Main Line's Finest in a Philly Hoops Classic.

After the Owls fell behind by 12 in the first half, I was beginning to think they were outmanned by the Wildcats. But Temple hung in there and hit some big shots at the end of the second half to keep the game within reach.

It was a big win for the Temple program as the Wildcats rarely lose a Big 5 game. Juan Fernandez and Lavoy Allen were the stars of the night. It seemed that Fernandez could not miss and Allen pulled down a key rebound every time they needed one.


Here is a write-up from Yahoo:

Juan Fernandez led a sizzling 3-point attack that stunned the Wildcats (9-1) in the second half and helped them pull away for their first win over a top-five team since beating No. 1 Cincinnati on Feb. 20, 2000. The Owls (8-2) opened the half on an 11-0 burst and grabbed a lead in front of their raucous fans they would never surrender.

The fans demanded an encore after their biggest win in coach Fran Dunphy’s four seasons, stomping the court and chanting “We Want Kansas!” in preparation for the top-ranked Jayhawks’ visit on Jan. 2.

“What’s it going to do for us down the line, I’ve got no idea,” Dunphy said. “We’ll figure it out later on.”

The Wildcats hadn’t lost a city series game since Feb. 4, 2008, against Saint Joseph’s. Villanova has won 21 of its last 23 Big 5 games.

“We were going to get our first loss at some time,” Villanova coach Jay Wright said. “This team wasn’t going to go undefeated, I promise you that.”

Lavoy Allen had 10 points and 17 rebounds for the Owls in their fourth straight win. The Owls beat Villanova for the first time since Dec. 4, 2004.

“We haven’t beaten them in quite some time and to get it now, where they are ranked in the country and this time of year, I think is a great confidence booster and show what we’re capable of in the future,” Brooks said.

The Owls made the NCAA tournament the last two seasons under Dunphy and were certainly not a pushover for Villanova.

But the Wildcats have dominated the city series like few teams in the 55-year history of the Big 5. The Wildcats had cruised through the city games like a No. 1 seed handles a 16 in the tournament.

After Scottie Reynolds made a layup off his steal, then hit a pull-up 3 on the next possession for a 31-19 lead, Villanova appeared on its way to another rout in its perfect start.

Not so fast.

The Owls entered shooting only 29 percent from 3-point range, but, as so often happens in a Big 5 game in front of a packed crowd, the numbers are meaningless.

Fernandez hit big 3 after big 3, each one more meaningful than the last. His first one of the second half put the Owls ahead 39-37 and Craig Williams followed with a 3-pointer to cap an 11-0 run that put the roaring crowd on its feet.

Reynolds coolly keep Villanova in the game with a 3 that brought them to 49-47 and made it seem like Temple’s lead would be short-lived.

Not Sunday. In front of nearly 8,500 fans at the Liacouras Center, Brooks nailed a 3 and so did Fernandez for a 59-53 lead.

The Owls made 11 of 22 3-pointers after entering a woeful 49 of 168. Fernandez, who was averaging only 10.6 points, missed only two of his 3-point attempts. He was 4 of 4 on 3s in the second half.

“When you’re feeling good, I can’t explain the feeling, you just throw it up there and it goes in,” Fernandez said.

Brooks said he started running down the court to play defense each time Fernandez shot because he knew it was good. Reynolds was equally impressed with Temple’s sophomore guard.

“Once a guy like that gets it going, it’s hard to stop it,” Reynolds said.

Reynolds led Villanova with 23 points, Antonio Pena had 16 and Corey Fisher 14.

Wright likes to say how Big 5 games—city games against Temple, Saint Joseph’s, Penn and La Salle—ready his team for a rugged Big East season even though the nonconference games rarely help their RPI.

“There’s benefits to it,” Wright said. “We’d either play these games or a national game like Kansas. We think these are just as good.”

The Owls gave them everything they could handle and looked like they were the team that ruled the city. Temple lost by one point earlier this season to No. 15 Georgetown, and have proved they are poised again to make a deep run in the Atlantic 10.

When Villanova looked like it was turning this one into a rout midway through the first half, Fernandez and Brooks sank 3s to slice the deficit to 37-31 at halftime.

“The end of the first half was critical to us,” Dunphy said.

The Wildcats get a dose of good news when guard Reggie Redding returns to the team for Saturday’s game against Fordham. Redding, arrested and charged over the summer with possession of a small amount of marijuana and drug paraphernalia, sat out the first 10 games because he violated the school’s student of code of conduct.

Three weeks since Chicago

Today marks the three week anniversary since I visited Chicago for:

1. My friend Jill's football game
2. The Bears-Eagles wedding
3. Maybe I should switch those two around
4. Getting my old things out of storage

Regarding the latter, my cousin warned me that I would end up throwing out at least half the stuff I had in storage and he was right. In fact, it cost me about $100 because I threw away so much stuff that it overflowed from the dumpsters. But I knew deep down that there were at least a few items of sentimental value that I must keep, a few of which were my old journals.

And in one of those journals, I came across a lot of old memories that I had since forgotten about. For example, about ten years ago I was going through (what I considered to be) a dreadful break-up. At that age, it probably meant that I was paying way too much attention to the girl, she was ignoring me, and I couldn't handle it. So, I wrote. A lot. I even took a crack at writing songs and poems, which is something I rarely tried before or since. The next post will be one of them.

Ideally, I will also write more about my experiences with Expedia and Enterprise that weekend, having a GPS stolen, the torture of driving 12 hours non-stop by yourself, how good it is to see old friends, the feeling you get when you go back to a place you used to be intimately familiar with and it seems like you never left, and the best song to sing in a karaoke bar.

Missing Shanghai, Missing China

It's 1 a.m. here and I'm wide awake thanks to the four nap I took earlier.

It's 2 p.m. in Shanghai and I'm thinking about everything going on there at the moment -

the bustle on the streets,
subways packed,
noodle shops empty after lunch,
bikes everywhere,
clothes hanging out to dry despite the cool, damp air
ah, the air, the dirty dirty air,
the afternoon english classes,
tourists along the river,
and sounds of construction blending with the sounds of commerce along Nanjing Road

Oh, how I miss Shanghai...

Absent

Going almost two months without a blog post was not one of my goals for the year. But due to a facebook/blogspot/any other cool website block in Yantai, I was unable to update the Wild East over the last few weeks I lived there. Then, I hit the road and it went something like this:

July 26 - Overnight train from Yantai to Beijing

July 27 to 29 - Stayed at a hostel in Beijing and checked out the Ming Tombs with my German roommate

July 29 to August 3 - TRAIN from Beijing to Moscow on the Trans-Siberian Railway; laughed in the dining car and drank a lot of vodka with people from Australia, Sweden, Taiwan, Russia, New Zealand and Norway; my cabinmate Gerry left his shoes on the Mongolian dining car and ended up wearing my slippers the rest of the trip

August 3 to 7 - Couchsurfed at two different places in Moscow and got two unique, distinct slices of life from each; the first place I surfed was with a Philipino expat who hosts about 400 strangers a year and basically treats his apartment like a well-run and trusting hostel; the second place was with a Russian couple who treated me very well - we cooked a meal together, they gave me a tour of the neighborhood, and I basked in some of the most thought-provoking conversations of my trip (they pointed out that a government's love for its people is more vital to happiness than we realize)

August 7 to 10 - Chilled out and surfed again in Vienna at an East German girl's apartment; her terrific cooking skills were matched only by her love of the TV show Scrubs and it is because of the latter that I watched the show for the first time and now have appreciation for it; in terms of cities, Vienna is almost too quaint and serene

August 10 - Woke up early and took a train Venice; I shared the train compartment with four generations of an Austrian family - two young children, their mother, grandmother and great-grandfather (who had been to Louisiana, Texas, and New York City as a prisoner of war from 1943 to 1946); spent most of the afternoon and evening by myself in Venice surrounded by canals, couples, and crafty back alleys

August 11 to 15 - After an overnight train to Rome, I met my friend Carla at a subway station near her home; over the course of the next five days, we proceed to visit anything in Rome worth visiting, including: Piazza del Popolo, the Spanish Steps, Piazza Novono, the Vatican (her apartment was a block away), Arch of Constantine, Colosseum, St. Peter's Square, the Mouth of Truth, Pantheon, Santa Maria in Trastavere, Saint Teresa in Ecstasy, San Giovani and a few others; by the end of the five days, I was dizzy from the churches, piazzas, and gelato - and all too appreciative of Carla visiting all these places for the 8th time since moving there

August 16, 17 - On the morning train to Naples, I met a girl who used to live in Chicago and was now spending time in Europe after volunteering in Africa over the past year; in the afternoon, I jumped on a boat to Capri to meet up with cousin Bob and get a brief taste of what it would be live in a Mediterranean postcard; we walk the island and intrigue each other by having conversations about two completely different generations of our family; the patience and wit he uses to tell stories of the past leaves me envious; after breakfast on the terrace, I boat to Sorrento and take a train to Pompeii; I go to the amphitheatre where Pink Floyd played in 1971 and am impacted more than expected by walking around the preserved city and seeing the ruins and body casts

August 17 to 19 - On Monday night, I train from Sorrento to Rome and spend one more night at Carla's place before training to Perugia to visit my friend Sally who is studying music at the university there; she takes my camera and I'm suddenly the star of my own photoshoot as we walk the narrow, winding streets of the city; Tuesday night saw my fourth and final couch surfing experience of the trip when I surfed with Paolo and Luigi, friends who live together in Perugia; they are boisterous, welcoming conversation lovers who point out that every Italian citizen is a soccer coach in their own right; Paola cooks dinner before giving me a tour of neighboring Assisi, where St. Francis is from; then I board the overnight train to Zurich

August 20 to 24 - It had now been over three weeks since I slept in a hostel or hotel; there are many aspects that make cousin Jim unique and his love of comfort is one of them; I knew there would be no hostel or couch surfing with him, just a good ole fashioned Swissotel; these four days turn into a blur of drinking and sleeping in until 4 pm; the closest we come to having any kind of culture exchange occurs at 10:30 pm on Saturday night when I purchase condoms and a neck massage from a bachelorette party; the following day, we somehow manage to arise before noon and check out Lake Zurich basking in all of its wealth and glory; there are people jumping off bridges and rafting on the Limmat River; at night, I board an overnight train to Amsterdam

August 25 to 31 - Ted and I met at the train station clock tower at 9:30am; if the previous few days in Zurich had been a blur of drinking, then this time in Amsterdam can only be categorized as a blur of coffeeshops, trashy hostels and walking; each day we headed in a different direction, got lost and backtracked, and found more unique ways to cross over the canals that paint the city; overdosing on Amsterdam is easy and we found ourselves in the seaside town of Haarlem for two nights where we rode bikes along the Atlantic coastline, browsed outdoor markets for Christmas gifts, and walked the beach

August 31 to Sept. 3 - My return flight to NYC connected through Dublin and the airport authorities there threaten to arrest me for the pocket knife I forgot I was carrying; I miss the last bus to North Wildwood and walk to a hotel in Times Square where my old roommate Terry works; he pulls a favor with room service and I eat real food for the first time in over a day - a bacon cheeseburger with fries and it is delicious; at his house, his wife returns from the US Open and the three of us share beers and talk about the good ole days in Chicago; the following morning is like Christmas morning as I catch the bus to North Wildwood; there are tears everywhere as I greet my parents at their hotel and even my nephew gets in on the group hugs; we spend the next two days going for walks, eating home cooked breakfasts, lounging by the pool and simply being giddy that we're around each other again

Ways in which English is actually more difficult than Chinese

For me, studying Chinese makes me feel like a kid again – like I’m back in grade school thinking that eight years is such a long time. Learning language is learning new terminology, just like when you learn a new English word. For example, the first time you heard the word "toughnerd," you probably didn't know what it meant. But, you could either ask the person who said it or figure it out from the context of what was said: "Sam is a toughnerd. He always acts tough, but he spends more time behind a computer than anyone I know."

I realize now that picking up vocabulary works the same way with foreign languages. You're constantly acquiring and learning new words, but once you use them and practice, you can remember them and get your point across.

Did you ever think about how long it takes to learn a language? Neither did I. But according to what I've read and heard, it takes about 2,700 study hours in order to speak Chinese well. This does not include professional terms, just basic language. By comparison, it takes about 800 hours to become proficient in Spanish or Italian. Natives are fluent because they’ve been “studying” the language since they were born. Therefore, whether you realize it or not, you are studying English everyday in America, just by using it.

On the other hand, English is equally difficult for native Chinese speakers. Many of my students are good at using Chinglish, which is speaking English with Chinese grammar. For example, "I everyday study English" is perfect grammar in Chinese.

Did you ever need to think of a word, but couldn’t? Well, that's another way in which English can be more difficult than Chinese. If you recognize part of a Mandarin character and how to pronounce it, you can guess at its meaning. For example, woman + home = peace.

English is such that any letters can form to make any word. This is difficult for native East Asian language speakers because they use characters or symbols. In this way, (usually two) characters combine to form a word. If you know the meanings of the characters, you can guess at the meaning of the word. For example, fire + mountain = volcano. But with English, all we know is that a volcano is a volcano - it's probably derived from Latin or German, but there's no easy way to guess at it's meaning.

If you're more confused now than when you started reading this, leave a comment and I'll clear things up.

Yellow Dust

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“Do you live here?” This is how my conversation with Kira started on the posh Korean subway. She’s from Maine and has been living in Korea for two years. She was on her way to the gym when we met, but took enough pity on this startled foreigner to give me a quick tour of Seoul’s Itaewon neighborhood. Itaewon is the most diverse neighborhood in Seoul and for the first time since leaving the U.S., I felt like I was part of the majority while walking around. This pic really doesn’t do it justice.

“I’m fighting a cold, lots of people around Seoul are right now, it’s from the Yellow Dust, from China.” She didn’t look ill, but Kira said a few days prior she couldn’t get out of bed. This was how I discovered that I wasn’t the only one fighting a cold recently. Apparently, there was a cold going around Seoul as well. On and off throughout the weekend, people mentioned it to me. Whether it’s true or not, many blamed it on the “Yellow Dust”, the construction dust that makes its way across the Yellow Sea and onto the Korean Peninsula. This is one indication of pollution I experienced while visiting Seoul. The Han River (or Han Jiang) while wide and beautiful, appears to be as polluted as any urban area river.