Besides not spending more time with Kamila, leaving before the trip up to Waldron was the other major bummer about leaving early. But my great recuiter, Issa Cohen, from Korea Recruitng, told me about a position in Dongtan New City (literally a new city, more on that later), and I figured if I could leave right away, why not? Why prolong the inevitable, especially when it would be more and more difficult to leave Kamila in the US.

As of June 18^th, I still needed to get my criminal background check and my degree certification apostilled and sent to S. Korea so my future employers could start to process my work visa. So I jumped in my little car and spent the day in Sacramento (where it’s always a pleasure to see my sisters who live there) getting a jurat for my certificate of degree (ugh, more on that damn certificate later), and getting both documents apostilled, and then sending all my paperwork – medical statement, criminal background check, certificate of degree, official college transcripts, 2 passport photos, photocopy of the info page on my passport (which came out too dark for S. Korean immigration, so I took a photo of my the info page and then emailed it to my recruiter who forwarded it onto the school who then sent it to immigration). Then I sent all of that paperwork via DHL (FedEx would have been fine as well) to the school here in Dongtan.

I gave Issa a call once I got it in the mail and he asked whether I could leave on Wednesday. Oh, by the way, I did all my paperwork stuff on Monday. So I politely begged off Wednesday since my mother is busy on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and asked to leave on Friday. No problem. Except he booked a flight that was already overbooked. The next available flight on Asiana Airlines (which won airline of the year last year, and they deserve it) was Sunday, so I packed very carefully (which I didn’t need to do, since I thought I had a weight limit of 22kg for my checked bag and 10kg for my carry on, but I had a limit of 2 checked bags at 22kg each, so I could have brought my Manduka mat. I has a sad.) My parents took me to the airport, I got there in plenty of time, and I left at 1:45p, non-stop for Incheon, S. Korea.

Twelve hours and fourteen minutes later, I touched down 16 time zones away, in the land of the morning calm.

When I shop in ethnic markets, I tend to pick up a lot of stuff I don’t use much if at all since I’m very curious. I’ll pick something up if I’ve seen it in a recipe that I’d like to try, and sometimes that recipes doesn’t work out or it calls for so little of it I have a lot left over. I also buy stuff that I’ve heard about before, and also that I’ve never heard of before and see on the shelves and I’m curious about. So pantry, big and rather exotic: Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Mexican, European, Middle Eastern, baking stuff, hmmm what else? Most of the stuff I pick up is fairly inexpensive as most ethnic stuff is. I have 3 pound tubs of green curry that only cost $2.50, and when you only use a couple tablespoons at a time, it lasts a very long time. Plus, since I haven’t cooked much recently because I’ve been cooking in restaurants, I go through it very, very slowly. I’ve been doing a lot more baking at home than anything else.

So here’s Mr. Poe, rockin’ it out:

The Raven

[First published in 1845]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.’

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,’

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,’ said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you’ – here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!’
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!’
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,’ said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!’

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.’

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered – not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.’

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,’ said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of “Never-nevermore.”‘

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.’

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,’ I cried, `thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he has sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

`Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted – tell me truly, I implore -
Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me – tell me, I implore!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

`Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!’ I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!

Watty set me straight last week about not doing any other prep work other than sauces, bases, and mixes. He probably feels that my palate is the most useful thing I possess, and for Tulips, I would have a hard time disagreeing with that opinion. But my other skills aren’t insignificant.

There really isn’t enough of that type of prep work to keep me busy more than about 3-3 1/2 hours a day, 3 days a week. John asked Amy, who is the new general manager of both Port 412 and Tulips since Brandon left a few week ago, to give me hours at the front of the house, but I’ve seen the schedule this week, and there’s nothing besides my prep shift. Last week that totaled all of 10.7 hours. And it will likely be even less this week. Death by starvation. Time to go.

I’m really looking forward to seeing some friends, most of them from college. There’s Charles, one of my roommates in Columbia, MO, now living in St. Louis with his wife and son. I met Diane, but I hadn’t met their son, so that will a lot of fun.

Then I’ll stop by the university itself. It’s been 10 years since I was there, and though I’m sure it hasn’t changed too much, wow, I sure feel I have! Hopefully I’ll get to talk with David Rees, the head of the photoj department, and the professor for the last class I have to take to finish my degree.

Westward HO! The drive from Columbia to Denver is generally boring, and let me tell you, that is a very long time to be bored, especially when you’re driving by yourself.

I have a college friend in Colorado, don’t know exactly where yet, but we’re Facebook friends and I just wrote her a message. I don’t think I know anyone in Utah, Nevada, or Idaho, so I’ll probably just go straight to Seattle for the climax of my trip, staying with Madeline and Don on Waldron Island, which is a small island in the San Juan Islands. I’ll probably be parking my car on the mainland, taking a ferry to Friday Harbor, and then taking a small private boat (Madeline and Don’s?) to Waldron Island.

She’s been living there for at least a few years now since she bought a house and farm. She’s had the farm certified organic, and she, Don, and her daughter Amirah live completely off the grid, growing their own food, selling it to nearby stores (now there’s a relative word!) and keeping chickens and goats for eggs, meat, and fiber.

I’ve really been looking forward to visiting them for quite a while, but with my life the way it’s been the last few years, and before that, it’s been impossible. So finally, yay!

I’ll stay there at least one day, perhaps two, we’ll see. Then I’ll stop in Portland, where I lived for 3 years, from 1999-2001. I worked for Intel and then was very unemployed after the tech bubble burst. My inability to find work forced us (my wife at the time and I) to move to the NW Indiana, SW Michigan area, where she has family.

I’ve got friends in Portland that I’d like to see, some beer I’d like to drink (is Hair of the Dog still around?), some food there I’d like to eat (helloooooo food carts), some shops I’d like to visit (Uwajimaya’s here I come!!!), and a few friends that I’d like to see.

Then south, south, to Sacramento where my sister and her husband live, for a brief visit before heading still further south to Merced, where I lived from about 2-12. I consider it the place where I grew up, perhaps because my fondest memories are from here. My parents are living with my grandmother and aunt in my the house my grandfather had built (he died a while ago).

The arrangement isn’t without it’s challenges, but everyone seems to have settled into what appears to be toleration and helpfulness. In comes Colin, and let’s see how it goes, if only until I’m finished with the last class for my degree, which will not take me any longer than May.

Then I’m off to S. Korea. And that will be a significantly shorter trip than the one from Michigan to California, in more ways than one.

Then there’s the question of what to keep. I’m planning on moving in with my parents for a few months, and then to S. Korea, so I’m not going to need much in either location, especially in Korea, probably just some clothes, books, my kitchen knives, and some toiletries. And my yoga mat.

In the kitchen, I’ll be giving away most everything, including a few pans, my Mixmaster, maybe my food processor, most of my small tools, all of my bakeware, all of my silverware, plates, glasses, and mugs.

As for my pantry, all it goes. I’m sure I’ve still got some things I picked up when I first started cooking in Boston, over 17 years ago. Anyone want some dried tree ear fungus?