Kerry Hudson's Blog, page 8

Hello from the future...

There you are thinking about the pasta and pesto you’re going to have for dinner. Here I am, back from dinner and ready to crawl into my wee bed (I don’t know if I mentioned it has a bright pink Paris Hilton-style furry bedspread but it does. I’ve grown to…if not love, at least accept it). The good news is that the future is bright and sunny and, if we’re talking mine, involved a delicious little berry and nut roll with cream cheese baked inside of it, soju rice cocktail served from a teapot and an ice-cream on the way home. 

It’s also only 11 little days until the vote for the Scottish Book Awards, Scottish Book of the Year closes. I feel a bit bashful to still be banging on about it but since so many friends have been so kind to do the banging on my behalf (as it were) I feel I should do a little more. Besides, there’s lots of lovely interesting stuff to talk about. 

First there’s this *amazing* video by animation talent Anna Pearson of my reading of the first page.

Then there are these blogs by the judges: David and Peggy and Clare about judging (interesting for me as a Green Carnation Prize judge this year…). Plus beautiful blogs from my fellow lovely nominees Richard Price and Ewan Morrison too. 

I wrote this one. It’s about how the women in my family influenced my writing and why the First Book Award feels like a homecoming. I put a lot of heart into it.

Finally, if you needed more of a reason to vote Tony Hogan the lovely Sharon, my pal off that Twitter, made this excellent promo video for the #teamtonyhogan campaign. There’s a cat. And the book. Now you can vote.

Night night.

A hangover the size of Korea

I am in pajamas in the internet cafe at the bottom of sauna complex. There are little boys playing a shooting game and my head is post-Friday night ouchy. I need to get out of here. So here’s a lazy post of delicious Korean food pictures. You are welcome.

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Want to say thank you to me for makling you hungry? You can still (STILL) vote Tony Hogan Scottish Book of the Year here.

dispatch from the cat cafe

Which is weirdly a very good place to write. This is my current view…

I have a green tea latte and the cats roam about like small furry Gods or very well groomed emperors. It’s is a bit like what the world would be if it were ruled by cats. I think we can all agree this guy would be pimp-daddy of the Korea cat nation (yes, it’s a bowtie). 

So today I tried to go to a museum but ended up at the wrong subway station, and then I ended up at a zoo and thought, fuck it, why not? Which is how I then ended up, feet dangling, on the last cable car of the night as the sun set behind the mountains. 

This is how I often travel and source material. I walk where my feet take me, act on my normal curiosity which is amplified when I’m away somewhere where I know nothing and want to discover everything. That natural curiosity leads me places…to a strange yoga class, a cat cafe, a zoo, a cable car and as I go I pick small shiny details, make connections and assumptions in my head, write tiny stories that will become part of a far bigger story. I’m not explaining myself well here. I did it much better on my post about the entwined nature of travel and writing for Jonathan of Bookseller Crow here.

Anyway, my favourite animal sighting of today wasn’t the lions or giraffes. It was this magpie. For obvious reasons I think.

Also here is a Buzzfeed of writers with their cats. Also Novelicious are doing a Scottish themed Tony Hogan giveaway to encourage people to VOTE for the Scottish Book Awards.

Ok. I’m off to pet a small furry God.  

Small things, big things, brutal yoga and pussies

So three things of note happened today…

1) I did a writing workshop at the British Council offices for students and a few BC teachers too. It was only an hour but I feel like we were able to cover a fair bit really. The exercises focused on refining your purpose, your intention, getting to the essence of the story you want to tell and also on then unfolding that to make a full story, looking at ways to expand and develop a seed of an idea. The conversation was largely about the discipline of writing, finding the time, how joyful it is when you do sit down a make up a story. It was really, really fun. So much so that I’m thinking of setting up bi-weekly workshops in East London. Drop-in classes with exercises and writerly chatter…

2) I went into a Yoga centre in Sinchon. Honestly, I thought I was just going to enquire, get prices and times, but somehow I was suddenly in a pair of white pajamas, in a bamboo walled room that smelled of lemons. Next to me was a young Korean English-speaking instructor and teaching was an older man in black pajamas. Guys, he looked so kindly to begin with. Then he took us through some sort of benign, gently insistent torture involving hand-weights and yoga poses. As the only non-Korean in the room he gave me special attention, ensuring my poses were deep enough, my arms high enough. He was being especially kind and thorough - it was pure hell. An hour of this. An hour. I literally can only just use my fingers for typing. Afterwards we all had a nice chat - they are incredibly lovely of course - and I petted their little white kitten. I’m going back Saturday…anything that hurts this much must be good for me.  

3) I found a Cat Cafe. I’m not sure how this happened but probably in the same way that I wandered into the Yoga centre I was curious about the poster (I’m lucky I didn’t end up in cats ears and a tail). It is at the top of a block which is largely plastic surgery offices, their before and after posters gruelling as you climb the stairs. On the eighth floor there it is: a cat cafe. For W6000 (about £3.50) you get a free drink and about twenty or so cats to hang out with. There are toys for you to play with them and cat treats to buy them. It is weird. It is brilliant. I will risk becoming a mad cat lady by going back. It’s a cat cafe. A cafe. FULL OF CATS. 

Also, I start to realise while there are so many things Seoul gets *so* right (heated floors and subway seats, coffee, fashion, design, cinemas, food (today I had squid tempura on the street, fresh from the wok), academia, double-handed blow-drying at the hairdressers) there are still some things I do not understand. Here are some of them coming up in the picture segment:

 

Fags…

A picture of a really cute dog...

And my recipe for unfamiliarity. Not really a lot to report today. I walked for hours and hours and hours (I think you get the idea…). About halfway through the day I felt a tinge of homesickness. I did what I always do in a place that feels unfamiliar when I want to feel more at home: took myself to the movies. From the noisy projector and re-frozen banana ice cream of the Cook Islands, the Russian dubbed ‘Bridesmaids’ in Siberia, an old armchair and cold beer to watch ‘The Godfather’ in Arizona, or my beloved Cinematheque in Hanoi, were I watched Bergman and became fond of the mildew smell of the seats, cinema is my home from home. So tonight I went to the Lotte cinema, ate salty popcorn, watched ‘Rush’ and succumbed to the womb-like comfort of moving images and a dark room. 

There are a few markers like this for me, things I do in every place I travel: run, swim, secondhand shops, sauna, cinema, bicycle, supermarket, sea or riverside walks. The other week, swimming lengths, I tried to remember all of the swimming pools I’d ever swam in. That’s the beauty of new places, those little bite-sized gifts they give even after you’ve returned home.

Anyway, enough of whatever that was. Here’s a picture of a puppy curled up in it’s food bowl that i took yesterday…

     

Will you forgive me?

For another picture post? I’m typing this fresh from the sauna, steamed, soaped and scrubbed to within an inch of my life, shiny as new penny. But. But it is almost midnight here in Seoul and I’d like to go to sleep please. 

I’ll tell you some things I noticed at the sauna that I thought you might enjoy: 

1. In the women’s only area, where women lie in baths or sit in rows on little stools and scrub themselves, there is a wee parlour. It has pictures of herbs in the window, beautiful lacquered chairs, tiny little tables. I approach the woman. ‘Tea?’ I hopefully pinch my thumb and fingers together at my mouth and twist my wrist (universal tea sign language). Nope. The lady points to my nethers. That little parlour is for ‘hip baths’ in which in which you sit akimbo over a big bowl of steaming herbs and let the smoke and steam drift up into your ‘hips’. No cup of tea for me then.

2. Downstairs there’s a row of massage chairs. I bloody love massage chairs. And so I settle back, close my eyes, surrender to the pummel…but wait, what’s that? Can it be…snoring? I angle slightly and see a man in the dark recess behind the row of chairs, curled and sleeping sweet and vulnerable as a baby. 

3. A little toddler with bobbed hair thumping each of her ma’s buttocks one after the other like a punching bag. I think she thought she was giving a massage.

So, that’s the word on the street from the place of steam and water. What of the real world?

Well, I said my goodbyes - regretfully - to Gongju. On my last day I wandered the market and ate some ‘fish bread’ (waffles filled with sweet red bean paste) and then had dinner with Mrs Kim, Julia and Mr Joe from Ui-Dang Elementary. It was a lovely way to say goodbye to a place that will stay with me…

Then I came back to the neon streaked bustle of Seoul. I’m staying at Seoul Art Space - Yeonhui. I have an apartment with an actual office and it’s right in the heart of the (ridiculously cool) university district. Somehow despite being in the centre of the bustle they’ve made it feel like summer camp. There are reading nooks everywhere, trails, a little outdoor theatre for readings. This morning I had my breakfast here outside my wee flat:

They’ve also a little dog. I was told his name but then forgot. I’ve called him K-Pop. I bring him treats and he brings me tail wags…

Today I went and did a almost-six miler run along the mighty Han River. It was so beautiful, the sun shimmering on the water, wild flowers and walking and cycling paths one side, the soaring skyline on the other bank:

Afterwards I ate some chips and wandered the streets for a while. There is so much to see all of the time, my head can’t keep it all in so I can only hope it’s gradually ‘seeping’ somehow…

And now I am home and ready for sleep. Tomorrow I walk and write and eat and try somehow to cram as much of this extrodinary city into my head as I possibly can. Night, night.

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Also: THIS. You can do it for any but I’d really like it if you do it for mine.

The Goodness of Gongju

So my lovely friends, here I sit, in a weird ‘vanilla sky’ silicone facemask, in socks and a nightie, watching a disturbing film called Arena ( a resounding 26% on Rotten Tomatoes). 

I’m still in Gongju and the wee Hanok feels amazingly like home. As does Gongju. Though it is just a small town, it’s creeping into my heart, sneaking into my future stories, and largely because of the kindness of people. 

People like the inspiring Julia, a South-African teacher who’s a working mum, teaching full-time and looking after two beautiful girls by herself who has been so kind. Or Mr and Mrs Lee, who run the cafe I work in sometimes and who sat me down with a pot of green tea and hot chestnuts to tell me all about Gongju’s heritage. Or the kind woman today who chased me in the street to give me a pair of socks, ‘You writer, English, girl’ she pointed to my bare feet in plimsoles ‘to keep warm.’ And if there’s a kinder gift than warm feet I can’t think of many. 

Anyway, here are some Gongju pictures while I try to work out in words what I’ve seen in these pictures:

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Oh, and there this thing you can do. If you want to. Only if you feel like it, you know. Whatevs.

Hello from rainy Gongju. It’s cats and dogs here – quite literally as this morning I had a...

Hello from rainy Gongju. It’s cats and dogs here – quite literally as this morning I had a little dusty paw print on my plimsoles which I assume was the wee cat mewling under my Hanok at 2am yesterday night. When I arrived at the Hanok I had the wonderful, and incredibly touching, surprise of a gift from a young woman called Sora who was at my Gongju talk last week. In the parcel were some lovely Korean gifts and most importantly the most lovely letter. I wasn’t there to say thank you to Sora so I hope she might be reading this so I can say – you made my day, Sora, thank you so much.

For those unfamiliar with a Hanok, that’s probably almost everyone, including me until last week, it’s a traditional wooden house with underfloor stone heating. Mine is about the width of a double bed, spotlessly clean, it’s only furnishing is bedding, a TV and tiny little cabinets. It’s a wonderful experience though the fact you sleep on the floor with a very thin mat was a bit of a shock. Good for my back though I’m sure.

The air smells clean in Gongju and there is a big river, mountains. My blond ponytail is clearly more noticeable here and so I feel like I did often in my district in Hanoi like a giant white elephant galumphing down the street with children staring goggled eyed.

Today I went to Ui-Dang Elementary School. The principle, the inspiring Mrs Kim, had attended my talk in Gongju last week and asked me to come and talk to the children. As ever everyone has been unfailingly kind and lovely to me. The principle has done an extraordinary job with school, building a separate auditorium, walking trails, an allotment plot, doing outreach work to disadvantaged student’s families in neighbouring villages, as well as a host of other after school programmes…and all just in two years. Interestingly, principals and teachers can only stay in any given school for four years and then the government reassigns them to another school on a constant shifting rota.

Anyway, it was another of those entirely singular experiences I keep having. I was parted from my sodden shoes on arrival and given a pair of standard issue rubber sandals and, paired with some baby blue socks, went forth in the true Brit abroad fashion. I had lunch in the canteen with the principal and Julih, a South-African teacher. Lunch was delicious – Kimchi, rice cakes with squid, green beans…and a little girl came up and cuddle bombed me halfway though it. Afterwards I had tea with the principal and then went and did a talk to the English Club. I told them the story of the Loch Ness Monster and then answered their pre-prepared questions like ‘what are the disadvantages to being a writer?’ and ‘Do you do after school dancing club in England?’ (the principal requested I attempt some Gangham Style dancing. I obliged. Much laughter). Afterwards I gave a slightly abridged performance of Wee Wullie Winkie in school assembly and then stood at the door and high-fived every single kid as they left the auditorium.

I am knackered. I’ve still not quite worked out food here but my urge for some Korean Fried Chicken and a beer is strong. I’m here until Saturday now and, while it rains, I’m going to cosy like a little cat in my warm Hanok and read and write. That is all for now. 

Oh actually…I also did this podcast with the very lovely and bloody cool Nikesh Shukla I laugh a lot. And say amazing a lot. Sorry. 

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Yep. You know it. VOTE goddamn you. 

Like the corners of my mind

Damn straight I’m quoting Babs Streisand. 

A wee one tonight. I’ve got to pack, send some overdue emails, drink grapefruit juice and be distracted by the ‘True Crime’ Texas conman programme on Discovery. 

So.

Today I had the day off from British Council duties. I gave myself the sort of work-free, indulgent Sunday I’d never allow myself in London. I woke up really early but faffed around. I took the Metro to the Hongdae, university area. The best way I can describe it is a cross between Portobello Road and Hoxton. I had brunch, bought myself Breton and denim trapeze tops (so will now look *exactly* like a Korean student), ate frozen yogurt and then went to see Blue Jasmine (bleak, gorgeous, Cate Blanchett is a force) at iCinebube. When I got back to the hotel with a pumpkin salad takeout from my new favourite, Cafe Mama, since it was my last night, I went for a swim and jacuzzi on the rooftop. It was deserted and I had a right good laugh wondering how I got from Greenend in Coatbridge to a nighttime swim in Seoul…answers on a postcard please because I still don’t know.

Anyway, here are today’s memories: 

In the lift down to the lobby, a little skinny girl in an ‘I love Kuwait’ beanie and a Korean teen in a ‘Super’ sweatshirt, carrying an iPhone with pink bunny ears and wearing bloody plastic surgery bandages over her nose and around her face (apparently 1 in 4 women in Seoul have surgery of some kind) // on the Metro, sandwiched between a lovely older man ‘Mr Kim’ who has lived in Seattle and a young girl who had spend a few years in Maryland who tells me anecdotally , when I ask her about the difference between US and Korean schools, about a ‘black kid stabbing a hispanic and the hallway was flooded with blood’ // a mother and son with matching bright neon yellow trainers //a whole family in matching stripey jumpers // a creeping sense of isolation as I walked home through the black windowed towerblocks and occasional bright noodle shops in the night // wanting to dance to Phillip Glass while walking the smooth, gleaming Metro platform // the sweet gentleman from whom I bought miniaturised Korean film posters who invited me to take another as a gift…I chose this:

 

Ok, so much to do and must pack for Gongju and my Hanok adventure. Tomorrow I’m doing two radio interviews including one breakfast show which has previously had Noam Chomsky and Julian Assange as guests…I can’t imagine why they want to interview me, or indeed what they’ll make of stories about Irn-Bru and New Order, but I am excited for another completely unique experience.

Night night.

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Ach, are you tired of me asking you to VOTE Tony Hogan Scottish Book of the Year in the Scottish Book Awards? Fair play. Me too. Still, if you feel like it…

Hysterical geese and herding cats

It is 6.30am (I can’t decide if this is jetlag or how normal people live) I’m watching a weird Bradley Cooper film (though I’ve become fond of BBC Ent that shows old Life on Mars and Sherlock) and drinking sweet 3 in 1 coffee which I’ve also become strangely fond of. 

It is another beautiful day. It’s been perfect weather ever since I arrived which I think has added to the ‘other worldness’ of the whole visit. Today Julia Golding and Tom Bowler return to the UK (I will miss them, they’ve been amazing trip companions - fist bumps all round). I’m staying on for a further three weeks - next week in Gongju and then two weeks back in Seoul.

Yesterday it was Paju Booksori (literally Paju Book City). Paju is up by the North Korean border and was born in 1980 (like me) when a group of writers, concerned about the cultural climate, decided to create a hub of literature.

It’s the most peaceful place. Surrounded by mountains, filled with building designed by eminent architects, capped by warm blue sky. Our programme was a UK Literature Concert. There was myself, Tim, Julia, an *incredible* Korean folk singer called Harim and a Korean rising star Yujoo Han.

I was so nervous about performing the very first extract of the Tony Hogan Show but it went fairly well I think. I was holding a mike and probably went faster than I should for translation but the kids (again, it was a teen audience) seemed to enjoy it. Also, I feel quite brave to have done it. I could have just done a reading but I think it’s important to keep reinterpreting work, to look at ways to keep it new somehow.

So it was another wonderful day. Of course we had a feast of a meal before hand - my favourite dish jellyfish with a sweet fruity dressing. The picture below shows Martin Fryer, the Director of the British Council Seoul, leaving our wee booth. We were also joined by Mike, a teacher at the British Council, who was from…Dunblane. And who very kindly helped me brush up on my Korean and Scottish.

We all did TV interviews talking about feelings about visiting Korea and our purpose for being here. After our event - all adrenalined up - we did the walk and talk section where the very tiny lady Director herded us like cats around the festival complex by shouting ‘walking, walking.’ When a flock of geese started chasing us we became incapacitated by giggles and so much of our footage going on national Korean TV will just show us cracking up.  

There was the usual signing of things after the talk - I’ve taken to drawing little cats (‘brave’ cats for the kids who asked questions) and the usual round of pictures - I’ve taken to doing ‘victory v’s’ like all the rest of Asia.

It was a wonderful day, full of laughter and more completely unique memories. Funnily enough one of my favourites was walking to the coffeeshop first thing in the morning, my hair still wet, listening to Cat Power’s ‘The Greatest’ and looking at the beautiful skyline of mountains and gleaming towerblocks. On the drive home we saw fireworks, bright, beautiful sparks in the inky black window. The perfect ending to a day of adventures.    

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