I hate waking up early, and I definitely do not do it naturally. My friends say I am a morning person because they know I wake up to do weekday morning workouts before work, and they also know that when traveling, Chris and I wake up early to start our days as soon as possible. But that doesn’t mean I’m naturally a morning person; it just means I have realized that waking up early means I am maximizing daylight hours, and when traveling, I want as much daylight as possible to soak in the day and the place that I am temporarily in.

From a hiker and photographer’s perspective, early morning is the best time to be out: the parking lots at national parks and trails will be fairly empty, the crowds thus will be lesser, the temperature will be lower (more important in hot climates like Arizona), and the light will be best for photographs because of its softness and the position of the sun. The sun’s light creeping up in the morning here brushes against the tops of mountains, creating an illuminating orangish-red hue that you will never, ever get if you take the exact same photo just an hour later or in the afternoon. Sunset is good, too, but that burning color won’t be there the same way. And who wants to be stuck on top of a mountain after dark when you climb down once finished with taking your epic photos?

We didn’t get to Lake Moraine until 7:30 this morning (that’s later than we wanted, because again, I’m not a morning person and struggled to get up), so the orange hues I wanted to see were gone. We only got them during the drive to the park when seeing the mountains we approached. But one thing we did get to enjoy was the absolute stillness of the lake. Every reflection of the mountain, the logs, the clouds, and the trees could be seen, and it was so stunning. I’m a little obsessed with water reflections; I can’t explain why. I just think natural water is amazing, and when the clouds or the mountains are reflected off of it, it’s gorgeous — natural beauty in its quietest moment. The lakes will only be still early in the morning and later in the evening around sunset, so it’s another reason to get up early to enjoy this still moment. We’ll be chasing a lot of reflections on this trip — we won’t be here long, so we need to soak it all in.

Chris has status with several hotel groups, which means that we oftentimes either get free nights at hotels or room upgrade perks. This afternoon when we checked into our hotel just outside Banff, we found out we got a room upgrade for a “loft-style” room complete with two full bathrooms. Two full bathrooms for the two of us? I immediately decided we were going to take advantage of this and use our own bathrooms. I set up all my stuff downstairs, while he has the upstairs bathroom where the bedroom is. He thought I was being silly, but why not embrace it for the short time we have it?

Because we have both lived in New York for eight to nine years, while he’s lived in Manhattan the entire time and I’ve lived in Manhattan for the last four years, space is something that we don’t take for granted. We have so little of it in our own apartment, so it makes sense. When we are traveling and staying at hotels, we relish the space in our temporary rooms because many times, the entire square footage is larger than our entire apartment back in New York. In a seemingly funny way, that “extra” space we get takes some getting used to. The idea that I could have my own bathroom, if even just for two nights, was exciting to me. The large counter space, the full bath and extended shower rod — these are little luxuries. It’s the little things when you are traveling that make it fun and enjoyable, and ultimately an escape from real life.

We’re off to Banff tomorrow morning. I’d heard of the Canadian Rockies decades ago, but I never realized that Banff National Park in Alberta was actually the main park that people refer to when they talk about the Canadian Rockies. I learned this in 2010 when I was flipping through a random travel magazine and daydreaming about traveling the world. As soon as I saw the iconic photos of Lake Louise and Moraine Lake, two of the most photographed lakes on earth, I knew I had to see this place myself.

Travel trends are always evolving, and as people travel more, they learn about more seemingly obscure places. If it weren’t for my in-laws, I wouldn’t know about Rovaniemi, the town of Santa Claus (this is real). Seven years ago, the word “Banff” didn’t mean anything to me, but after I read that magazine, it was on my list of “must-see” places in the near future. I’ve been telling colleagues about this planned trip for the last two weeks, and a lot of them had no idea what Calgary or Banff was. I’d Google image photos for them of Banff and the lakes or tell them these are part of the Canadian Rockies, and then they would get awestruck by the beauty of these places.

Our northern neighbor is much under appreciated by my fellow Americans, but that’s fine by me; it’s less tourist traffic that we need to deal with. 🙂

A close friend of mine gifted Chris and me a GoPro Hero 4 as a wedding gift, and today, I’m finally getting around to opening it and tinkering. As soon as I opened the box, I realized that this seemingly tiny camera had so many parts that it would be quite overwhelming to set up and understand what everything was for. I even had to look up some YouTube videos on how to set up certain parts.

This camera is so small that it fits in the palm of my hand, yet it takes 12-megapixel photos, has a lot of complex settings (you can even control down to the second your light exposure during night shots.. I wonder if I will ever get *that* into this to be that anal and do that), and has a waterproof case with multiple types of “back doors” that you switch out depending on how waterproof you want your camera to be, or what you’d like the sound quality to be like. Clearly, this was not meant to be a simple point-and-shoot camera and needs quite a bit of learning to maximize its capabilities. The one thing it does not do is zoom in and out, so it’s one thing for me to be cognizant of when I am taking this on our trips and leaving our DSLR at home.

The idea of having such a tiny camera replace my bulky DSLR is so attractive, though. The GoPro is so tiny and light, so it would lessen Chris’s whining when I make him carry the DSLR around. We’ll see how it goes during our Banff trip this week.

There is certainly a tracker on my Instagram regarding what I’m posting and when. When I go into my “Discover” tab, all I seem to see now are posts that others are uploading to Instagram of Korea. Of course, I am enticed by gorgeous photos all the things we ran out of time to see: the Gamcheon Village, a cultural village (or really, a slum that’s been cleaned up) in Busan that in many ways resembles the colorful favelas of Brazil; the Haedong Yonggunsa temple, one of the few temples I’ve read about that actually sits along the sea; the Jangsan mountain.

The funny thing is that it doesn’t matter how long you spend in any one place, but you’ll never have enough time to see it all. I’ve spent the last eight years living here in New York, yet I still haven’t visited the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, or the Bronx outside of the Yankee Stadium and Little Italy, among other things that would be amazing to visit. In San Francisco, where I lived for my first 18 years, I hadn’t even seen Alcatraz or Muir Woods until two years ago; I still haven’t visited Yosemite, which is so embarrassing since I’ve seen so many other national parks that are less famous throughout the U.S. and abroad. The more I travel, the more I realize I don’t know about the world, but the more I want to learn and see.

I’ve been using sunblock on my face since around age 11 in an attempt to a) prevent too much tanning and of course burning and b) prevent premature aging. Granted, I was never a white-skinned Asian to begin with given that my mom is part Vietnamese, giving me more of an olive-tan natural hue than a white hue. But I also never wanted to be white-skinned, either. In America, people are obsessed with tanning; it’s a compliment when someone tells another that, “You look tan!” Tanned skin is healthy skin here, which is glowing. White skin is perceived as ghost-like and unhealthy. These people are often called “pasty.”

It’s so amusing how different it is in Asia every time I go, how white skin is considered the holy grail. Women carry parasols to block out the harmful UV rays and oftentimes in China would wear loose long-sleeved shirts to protect their precious skin. In Korea, I’ve noticed women applying white powder on their faces from their little compacts. If you go into cosmetic and skincare stores, the foundation and compact shades rarely get any darker than my own skin tone. I overheard someone, a white American woman on our DMZ tour, say that she really wanted to buy a cushion compact, but at all the stores she visited in Myeongdong, the shades were all very light in their limited range; None were as dark as her own skin (she was medium-toned, hardly dark at all).

Several times when I walked into cosmetics stores, the assistants assumed I was interested in whitening products. Each time they asked this of me, I smiled and politely said no, I’m not interested in whitening. I don’t even think my skin is capable of turning lighter, even if I stayed out of the sun 365 days a year!

Another funny thing: on sunscreen bottles in Seoul, the label oftentimes advises that you should stay out of the sun as much as possible even after application. No sunscreen bottle here in the U.S. says that.

We took a tour to the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) and Joint Security Area (JSA) today to get the closest we’ll come anytime soon to North Korea. After having read a few articles about how awful the lives were of people who live in the north (one particular account written up in the New Yorker about nine years ago still is emblazoned in my mind), I wondered if we’d be able to get any glimpse of life of the north side from the DMZ area. Just its name is so ironic since it’s probably one of the most militarized zones in the entire world.

We did get a glimpse — a fake glimpse. When walking to one open area, one of the U.S. army guides pointed to a little village which they found out, after some intense telescoping, is actually fake: the buildings are hollowed; the doors painted on, and the lights that turn on and off operated by a timer. We can hear the North Korean propaganda blazing loudly via loudspeakers while on the south side. And of course, North Korea is hanging their flag on a pole that is 525 feet high, trying to outdo and create a “flag pole war” with South Korea, who has their flag hanging from a pole 323 feet high. This all seems pretty petty and childish… until you hear about all the millions of deaths that came as a result of this war and all the hundreds of thousands of North Koreans who have tried to defect to China, South Korea, Russia, and elsewhere in the region to escape the North Korean dictatorship.

The part of the tour for me that was the most chilling (literally, I could feel my little hairs going up on my arms) was when we were learning about all the infiltration tunnels the North Koreans built in a planned attempt to invade Seoul from underground. We were allowed to tour the third infiltration tunnel up to a certain point, and then we had to turn back. Four tunnels have been discovered, but the South Korean government believes there could be twenty more and are still searching for them.

The idea that a country that broke away could have so much hate to build these massive and incredibly long tunnels to invade their neighbor and likely annihilate a great chunk of their people made me feel so sad and scared for a moment. There are people who really do think like this, and that’s how absurd and terrorizing events like the droppings of the atomic bombs in Japan, Pearl Harbor, and 9/11 happened. Innocent people dying for… nothing, people having their lives taken away in seconds and being completely unaware of it — all of that is so terrifying — or is it for nothing? For the people committing these acts, it’s all really in the name of power. Power and control are what drives people.

After taking the train back from Busan to Seoul this morning, we set out to try a different type of Korean food: “Chinese Korean” in Seoul. I read that Chinese food started becoming popular back in the 40s and 50s in Seoul, since this was when Chinese people started immigrating to the country. A mish-mash of their cuisines began, and so were the two famous dishes of tangsuyuk (sweet and sour pork, Korean style) and jajangmyeon (black bean sauce noodles or zhajiangmian in Mandarin pinyin) born. The only jajangmyeon I’ve ever grown an attachment to has been from San Tung in San Francisco, one of my all-time favorite restaurants ever for their dry-fried chicken and black bean sauce noodles. Their noodles are house made, and the sauce is a blackish-brown bean color, and the closest I’ve come to finding noodles like these away from San Tung have been at Shandong Mama in Melbourne. After reading several food blogs, I found Andongjang, supposedly the oldest Chinese Korean restaurant in Seoul, founded in 1948, known for their house-made noodles for their jajangmyeon and their sweet and sour pork. I told Chris we had to go here.

We came in for lunch and were greeted in Mandarin and Korean, and the service was quite friendly. The man serving us made small talk with me in Mandarin and said he was Chinese and originally from the Shandong province of China. He came here for work and of course learned Korean. I ordered the seafood black bean sauce noodles and the tangsuyuk for us and told him we were sharing everything, and so he had the kitchen divide the noodles into two separate bowls for us and allowed me to mix the sauce into the noodles, just the way they do it at San Tung. I was really blown away by both the noodles and the taste of the sauce; granted, they didn’t give us much seafood and mostly it was onion filler, but the flavor of the sauce and the texture of the noodles was just like San Tung. I almost felt sad when the noodles were finished and wanted to get more, but I knew that would be a bad idea. The sweet and sour pork, probably the only sweet and sour pork I’d ever order, was freshly fried and crispy, with tender meat and just enough sweet and sour sauce drizzled over it. It even came with a decent amount of vegetables.

It’s funny to me that I had my first noodles that tasted like San Tung’s black bean sauce noodles all the way in Seoul. Chris enjoyed the meal and commented it was probably the best service he’s ever received at a Chinese restaurant outside of Flower Drum, the fancy upscale Hong Kong Chinese restaurant in Melbourne. We were both impressed. I know I’ll be thinking about this restaurant a long time after we will have left Seoul.

We’ve been wandering the streets of Seoul and Busan, and occasionally people will stop and try to communicate with us. Of course, since I am yellow, they all just assume I’m Korean, so they start speaking to me in rapid fire Korean. I’ve successfully learned only about a dozen phrases for survival on this trip (this ranges from “hello,” “goodbye,” “thank you,” “delicious,” to “where is the bathroom?” “can you bring me water?”, “can you take me to (fill in the blank)?”). Any other word I recognize is from the Korean dramas I watched during my college days, or from its similarity to English or Chinese (since we all know that Korean is based on Chinese regardless of what any Korean person wants to tell you).

The few people who have tried to talk to us, ranging from a random woman at the 7-Eleven ATM to the woman serving us at a pojangmacha (outdoor eatery where you sit around a cooking station on little stools and eat), have all indicated that had all thought I looked Korean and were surprised I was not. Their next guess is always Chinese, but I tell them I’m from “America,” and they say their long “oooohs.” In Vietnam, everyone thought I was Vietnamese (they were 1/4 correct). Everyone in Japan thought I was Japanese. The people here think I’m Korean. The general theme is that all yellow people think that all other yellow people are their yellow people. It has little to do with what I really look like and more to do with their perceptions of people and the world.

Three of them so far have pointed at Chris and said to me, “Chingu (friend)?” “Anyong (no),” I respond. Not knowing what the Korean term for husband is, I make a hand motion indicating that we’re together. Their eyes always widen and they seem so surprised. I guess the idea of a yellow person being with a brown person is surprising and intriguing to them. It’s more funny to me that they first assume we’re only friends.

We’ve been in Seoul and Busan for about 3.5 days, and in that short time, I’ve already been amusing myself with all the quirks of the culture here. These are some of the things that I’ve chuckled at or been “wowed” by:

(Updated on 7/12):

1. Korean mall food courts: I love these, and I don’t even like to shop. They’re sparkling and pristine just like the ones in Japan, except here in the food court areas, they really thought of everything. There are sterilizer storage machines that look like mini fridges that store plastic or metal cups. Next to these are water dispensers for hot and cold. When you are done, you throw them into the round shoot, perfectly shaped for the cups, so that they can be cleaned by some other hidden machine. This area also has sinks with soap and hand towels for you to use, so you don’t even have to go to the bathroom to wash your hands. I loved this system so much — so efficient!
2. Korean mall bathrooms: Like other bathrooms outside of the U.S., these walls go all the way up to the ceiling. But what was most notable about these was that right by the sinks, there are mouthwash dispensers with mini cups for your use. It’s like they are saying, “We know our food is stinky and has a lot of garlic and fermented fish, but never fear; here’s some mouthwash so your breath doesn’t smell after enjoying all our tasty food!”
3. Korean bathrooms in general: Many of the toilets in fancier buildings will have a little towel you can pull off and use to spray with a disinfectant for the toilet seat. They are obsessed with cleanliness.
4. Lesser Korean bathrooms: Soap bar, not liquid soap. This will gross out so many Westerners.
5. Subway stations: A little jingle plays when the train is about to arrive. In the Busan stations, it’s a classical jingle with what sounds like a kids’ choir. I found it so cute, but I have a feeling that jaded New Yorkers would never go for this and would roll their eyes to no end.
6. Endless ads for plastic surgery: Eyelid surgery before and after. The advertisements are everywhere — in the subway stations, on billboards, on the street; so much pressure to look a certain way.
7. Bathrooms in general: I’ve popped into stores to use their restrooms without buying anything, and no one seems to care; in fact, when I asked in Korean where the bathroom is when I clearly just arrived and had zero intention of buying anything, I was greeted by huge smiles and hand motioning on where the bathrooms are. They’re so kind… or simply just understanding of the fact that when you gotta go, you just gotta go.
8. Chocolate in Korea: Not so good. In fact, it’s pretty disappointing. Chris is not happy.
9. Korean knock-offs: So many Korean knock-offs exist here of everything from Oreos to Digestives (the British biscuit) to even cocoa puffs. Even stores have such similar names and vibes of the ones in the U.S. (Face Shop has such similar font to Body Shop). The fake leather bags felt really, really fake. No wonder they only cost 10,000 won (that’s less than $9 USD).
10. Korean socks: The sock culture here is the epitome of “cute.” Cute, silly socks with caricatures of pigs, monkeys, mustaches, Totoro, little chicks, a design that you are wearing a shoe on your sock — you name it, you can find it. I’ve already bought three pairs. I have no shame; I embrace it.
11. Fish cakes everywhere: We’ve already passed several bakeries where all they are selling is about 50-80 different types of fish cake of all different shapes, sizes, and fillings. Some have minced corn, scallion, and carrot; others are mashed and wrapped around whole shrimp, hot dog, or bacon, and others are flattened and square-shaped, filled with minced kimchi or gochuchang (Korean red hot pepper paste). The obsession with fish cake is delicious to me, but boring to Chris.
12. “Cushion” compacts: It seems like almost every woman is carrying one of these in her purse and pullling it out for occasional touch ups. I’ve noticed this on the street, in restaurants, on the subway, and on train stations. Korea is one of the cosmetic and skincare capitals of the world, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
13. Women’s nails: This must be a trend now, but so many women have each finger and toe a different nail color. I don’t think I could handle this myself. A “party” nail could work for me, but everything else has to match more or less.