Some notes on Korean TV dramas.

I've watched a few of these series now - thank you, http://www.dramacrazy.net! - and I would like to give my thoughts on some commonalities to be found in them.

The male leads are often very, very stalker-ish. How much so? To be point where if I were the female lead, I'd be filing a restraining order at around episode five. The constant meddling in the heroine's life! Creeping about outside her residence! The wrist-grabbing! Oh lord, the wrist-grabbing! This is not the path to true love. This is the path to a deep, burning resentment.

There is often an older woman who is in a position of authority over the leads. She is evil. Most of the other characters on the show will learn something from their experiences, but she will not. She will continue being powerful and evil as she rides off into the sunset.

The two romantic leads don't seem to like each other very much, even when one is stalking the shit out of the other. Their love will become reciprocal at about the two-thirds to three-quarters point in the series. A realistic explanation as to why this occurs will not be provided. They will still seem not to like each other very much.

Kissing is serious business. So serious that months will pass between one kiss and the next. Deep thoughts and many flashbacks will be had about each kiss.

If you'd like to recommend some Korean dramas that don't follow these stereotypes, oh, pretty please, do!

On Traveling Alone

It is often the case in this country that I wind up traveling alone - that is, no companion out of the starting gate and no one to meet when I reach my destination. Although my favoured form of traveling here is as a sort of auxiliary to another group - we can meet and part and meet as we see fit, for the purpose of good times and lessened frustration for all - there is some things to be said for the 'going it alone' strategy.

You can plan spontaneously. In a group, there is an expectation that you will move together and thus any change in the itinerary is subject to discussion and debate. If you're by yourself, you can change your plans on the fly immediately upon receiving new information or whims.

You can experience things that you wouldn't have in a group. You can talk to random people, random Koreans can come up and talk to you - yes, they're looking to practice their English, but isn't that what you're in the country for?

You can do what interests you the most. Many friends I have - well, they like beaches and clubs and shops the most. That's all right. Sometimes, I really enjoy those things too. But I really love museums and historical sites and chances to just wander with a camera in hand. (Sometimes, they really enjoy those things too.) It's so pleasant, though, to be able to go in any direction you want to. I will go to this amusement park! I will go to this island! I will go ride my bike! Those are grand statements to make.

With western food, at least, you have the choice of where you want to eat. Kebabs? Sure. Burritos? Definitely. Burgers? Why not? There is no need to negotiate with anyone. Note that this does not apply for Korean restaurants.

You become more independent. Any problem you face, you must figure out to how to fix it. I actually find that I'm calmer about 'situations' when I'm alone as opposed to when I'm in a group. Somehow, there is a mental block in my mind that if I'm in a group, someone else can solve the problem and I'm free to get into a pancake. By myself, there is no such crutch.

All your opinions about the experience are your own. You're not reliant on anyone else to decide how good a time you really had.

It can be lonely. But it's worth doing.

This is the great conflict of my life, which unfortunately has no villains!

I like puppies. I like dogs. I enjoy their complete honesty of emotion, their eagerness, their complete lack of pretension, their dear paws. I never met a dog I didn't like - even Thumper, who was kind of mean, but he had health problems, poor thing. I really, really want a dog.

Unfortunately, my landlady is afraid of dogs. So is my landlady's daughter. I don't know why they're afraid of dogs - perhaps it's a lack of experience with those fine furred things or they've had a bad run-in. It's not my business and it's not their fault. As such, they're allowed to forbid canines in my apartment as they see fit.

I really, really want a dog, though!

Whenever I'm upset, sad, or feeling crushed under a great weight of ennui, I ask my mother to send videos and photos of the dogs. Some - but not all - of my happiest memories of visiting home involve playing and cuddling with said dogs, as well little Tula, that happy pee machine. Whenever I see a dog strolling along the sidewalk, I feel an overwhelming urge to coo over and pet them. Dogs, to me, represent happiness, not fear.

Having a dog would increase my happiness quotient. But it would also stab a dagger of fear into my landlady and her daughter, which would be terrible, because they are very kind, virtuous people. I am staying in Korea for at least another year and a half, though - that long a span of time without a canine companion!

Maybe getting a boyfriend would be a good substitute, but he probably wouldn't play fetch nearly as well.