husband, dad, son. american, korean. seoul, ann arbor, san francisco. dev, colleague, em. christian…ish

Category: hobbies

  • hiking

    Rancho San Antonio Park

    Starting late last year, a few of us dads began meeting for 2.5-hour hikes on Saturday mornings. Not weekly, but spaced just enough such that you felt like going again and it felt like a thing. It checks all the boxes; boosts your mental, social and physical health, it’s invigorating, time commitment doesn’t disrupt family routines, and it’s completely free. Even our snacks are from Costco.

    To be sure, it’s not just a random group as most of us are first-generation Korean immigrants and we got to know each other through shared responsibilities and common concerns. The moms connected first; it took significantly longer for the dads to gel. But once it gets going, age doesn’t matter, everyone is exceptionally respectful and happy to connect.

    The routine is familiar now. Wake up at 5:50 a.m., briefly contemplate skipping, but get ready anyway because either you’re driving or someone’s on the way to pick you up. Cancelling right then would obviously invite a lot of frowning. Triple-check layers, snacks, water, watch, headlamp if its still dark. By the time you’re standing out on the curb, half-awake but committed, there’s already a quiet satisfaction. Once in the car, conversation flows easily. Still yawning, but the early fog, both literal and mental, lifts quickly when you’re together and the sun is rising.

    The hikes themselves are peaceful and surprisingly rich. We walk, we talk. We share perspectives, memories of Seoul, and the small cultural mismatches that come with American life for those relatively new, among many other topics. Sometimes it turns into a casual venting sessions, which honestly, is part of the value as we laugh or commiserate together.

    There’s a spot we often reach around the midpoint. A cluster of trees with a small clearing in the middle, perfect for coffee and snacks from Costco. Someone placed logs around strategically for this very purpose. Instant coffee pouches and a thermos of hot water go a long way.

    Going on a tangent, it’s interesting Bay Area trails have any cheap food options near the trailhead, like they do across the pacific or in Europe. I still remember uncles back when I was a kid who’d skip the hike entirely, grabbing a seat at the outdoor tables and ordering drinks while the rest of us climbed. “Oh don’t worry about me, you folks go right ahead”. Even young me knew these folks had zero intention of hiking from the start and they looked quite happy too.

    Anyway, here you’re lucky if there’s a single picnic bench. Our American hiking culture is very… utilitarian. You’re there to hike hike. There isn’t room for a snack shack that’ll add back up all the calories you just burned.

    Still, we’ve made it work splendidly, and somehow the coffee we pour in that quiet grove tastes better than any café could offer. It’s a low-key group of good, warm-hearted, family oriented guys. No expectations, no pressure. Show up if you can, skip it if life gets in the way. Without planning it, we all seem to take turns disappearing for a few weeks and then returning. A 30% participation rate is a win, even one other person is a blessing. Perhaps the only hesitation is when its still quite dark and the trailhead has a sign that says beware of mountain lions(!).

    One recurring joke: when someone asks if it was hard to get permission from their wife to join, the usual response is something like “Hard? She practically shoved me out the door. “Please go outside and make some friends. Here’s your snacks.”

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  • reading

    After growing up in Minnesota and Edmonton until I was 8, my parents decided to move back to Korea. I vividly remember being devastated by the news and charging up the stairs to my room. I loved my school in Edmonton, had a lot of friends etc despite the extreme cold and mosquito filled summers. Kids don’t really notice that stuff, do they.

    My parents though, were probably homesick and lonely, as there was only one other Korean family nearby, and worse my moms English wasn’t good to the point we struggled to communicate with each other. It was a no brainer decision for them obviously and I’m happy that opportunity arose.

    So we moved back and I sort of had to learn Korean, as it was… not good. Still once you’re immersed in that environment as a kid, its simply a matter of time until you get used to it and become fluent. I even adjusted more or less to living at my stern grandparents place. The Korean education system on the other hand however, as I got to know very soon… holy lord almighty wow. I’m pretty sure one spank with the rod for every one question you got wrong on an exam is… not it. 67 questions I got wrong on my first exam, gee I wonder how I remember that exact number.

    Anyway, after some point, my mom realized that I might forget all my English skills, as she had seen happen to other kids that had moved back at a young age. So she then commenced regular book buy sprees despite my dads very modest salary. We’d bus to these places that sold english books and bought them by the multiple bag load. Tons of Choose Your own Adventure books, The Hardy Boys, even all the Tintin comic books series among a lot of other, not exactly Pulitzer Prize worthy, stuff.

    So until 11 years later when I returned to attend Michigan, I was a voracious reader, without even speaking a single word basically during those years. I remember on the flight out wondering it I could still speak it, after only reading. And well, turned out you could!

    I’m double more thankful at work these days, because words to matter. The exact one, the tone, what you’re trying to convey, in what order. And of course, trying to be as concise and easy to understand as possible, because at the end of the day, what exactly is this persons ask is what everyone is wondering. After becoming an em, I asked my dad for advice, and this gruff, old school guy told me be extremely careful with your words.

    So obviously, thanks mom and dad for all the books, even though none of them were exactly Shakespeare or Hemingway!

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