THE TRAVEL BLOG OF TROY HENDERSHOTT, GLOBAL BACKPACKER FOR ALMOST 3-YEARS CONTINUOUS, SINCE 2012

SINCHON WATER GUN FESTIVAL (신촌물총축제)

7/29/2017

Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it. – Lao Tzu

Saturday, July 29, 2017 (DAYS 1,972 – 1,973)
The 5th Annual Water Gun Festival just happens to be a stone throws away from my apartment in Seoul. It's nothing new to walk at of my building and find random events being held EVERY SINGLE WEEKEND in my neighborhood of the 16th largest city in the world! This weekend, however, coming back from several meetings with clients, I randomly stumble across this event coming out of the subway just heading home to continue the long editing process of my friend Katie and Levi's wedding video that they were so kind to invite me to in Kauai, Hawaii. Also, I can't thank Bret enough for insisting to stay an extra week and so kindly offered to pay my flight change fee (yeah, Katie I should've listened to you from the beginning, lol). It was also the first time in more than 7-years I got to see my best friend Jesse and finally meet both his wife and his daughter! *I know I've fallen behind on my blogging and hope that once I get past the estimated 100-plus hours of video editing to catch up and write about my travels through Northern Africa and areas of the Middle East, but until them I hope you enjoy the Vlogs of the Sinchon Water Gun Festival (신촌물총축제) and maybe I'll see you there next year, or who knows, maybe I'll be traveling and living in a different part of the world by that point! Cheers! For more information on both the Water Gun Festival and others check out the information below...

FESTIVAL DESCRIPTION:
Sinchon Water Gun Festival started as a fun festival in Sinchon. Visitors can enjoy fun activities reflecting unique ideas, various artists' participation, and local features to cool off from the summer heat. People of all ages and all nations gather to join in this fun festival through the simple water gun.

PERFORMANCE TIMES:
July 29-30 / 10:00-19:00

PROGRAM DETAILS:
- Alien ship landing in Sinchon
- Alien's new weapon: Water attraction
- Alien parade
- “Fever Time” Bubble Party
- Galaxy DJ Performance

WEBSITES:
www.facebook.com/watergunfesta

KOREA TOURISM EVENTS:
http://english.visitkorea.or.kr/enu/ATR/SI_ENG_4_1_1.jsp

AGE LIMIT:
Age 7 and up

TRANSPORTATION:
[Subway]
Sinchon (Seoul Subway Line 2), Exit 2 & 3.

[Bus]
Green Bus: 5712, 5714, 6712, 7011, 7016, 7611, 7713
Blue Bus: 270, 271, 602, 603, 604, 707, N26, N62
Red Bus: 1000, 1100, 1101, 1200, 1300, 1400, 1500, M6117, M6713
Village Bus: Mapo08, Mapo09, Mapo13, Mapo14

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THE SMALL MOMENTS IN LIFE

9/18/2012

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We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware–beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one. – Author Unknown

Monday, September 17, 2012 (DAYS 197 – 199)
The morning affords my first gym session in months and within a matter of minutes I am drenched in sweat as I begin with a set of free weights. The refurbished warehouse that houses a spacious upstairs gym is not what you may be imagining as farm animals do not run rampant in the facility nor are empty milk containers filled with sand substitutes for weights, but this is almost a proper exercise facility. Thin gym mats cover a large portion of the floor surrounded by various size punching bags, and a series of exercise machines fill in the spaces in between. Marc continues his regiment of the Arnold Schwarzenegger body building routine, while I have chosen to maintain a more sensible method that doesn’t involve steroids, which I am almost positive are Flintstones vitamins, and erratic emotional behavior that floats from anger to crying like a schoolgirl. After comforting my English counterpart who is found curled up in the corner with eyes full of tears, I give him a good five fingers to the face and he’s returned back to the status of a normal human being. Prying the pink half pound bar bell from his tightly clenched fist, I offer to buy him a juice box on the return walk back to the hostel and soon the attention and laughter from the other patrons is a faded memory, but I am sure will return in his nightmares for his foolish behavior.

Throughout relative busy schedules, we have decided to spend an afternoon being tourists around SJDS, taking our cameras in hand we venture out to capture the place that we have called home for more than three months. Putting on the stereotypical Asian facade with multiple cameras hanging around my neck and a Disneyland t-shirt, the walk across central park is always full of life. Whether it is a group of elderly men sitting on benches discussing a variety of topics or school children setting up a makeshift soccer field on the stone courtyard, while this may not be the heart of the town it is a close second to the area that surrounds the mercado just a block away. Dragging our feet to a slow and lazy pace as the hot sun beats down on us, we make our way towards the beachfront. Stopping and taking in the rolling tide of the ocean and the perfectly blue skies overhead, I cannot think of a more pristine view. Life is interesting in all of the incredible blessings that I have been afforded both in my travels and the life previous to it, and the gratitude for appreciating these continued opportunities continues to build the character that is created within me daily.

Noticing how deserted the beach is during the quiet season, we decide to stroll along the shoreline before stopping at a pair of lounge chairs and grab a couple of cold drinks. Just before 2pm on a Tuesday, Marc turns to me mentions this is where we live as we gaze out over the Pacific. Chin chin mate. Pausing to think what others back home are doing at the beginning of another work week, I can’t help but relish in the freedom that I have chosen to live out in spite of the living conditions that may make others cringe, but this moment here and now easily offsets those comforts from back home. Sitting in the sun as beads of sweat are already rolling down my arms and chest the crashing waves and cool water are beginning to call my name. Unfortunately the yahoo sitting next to me is unprepared for a refreshing swim since he so unwisely chose to wear white shorts that when wet are more transparent than Chuck Norris’ homemade salad dressing. That doesn’t make sense? Well neither does wearing white shorts with white boxers to the beach.

Charging the ocean, I dive under the first oncoming wave as it breaks over me. It has been weeks since I’ve swam in the ocean, and I know what many of you are thinking. How could I live within a five-minute walk to the beach and prefer swimming in the pool that is steps outside my door from my room? Convenience and proximity, especially when I tend to juggle a schedule that keeps me relatively busy. Warding off the potential of a heat stroke, the afternoon swim has revived my energy and we continue our tour around SJDS with a visit to the butcher’s shop where we purchase a solid pound and a half of rib eye steak at the mere cost of C$114 ($4.95). Continuing on to the mercado to round out our dinner with fresh tomatoes, onion and avocado, the last item on the list is a package of pasta where we have enough food for two solid dinners that costs just over $3 each. When I’ve told friends how little I have spent in the last six months, this is one major factor in being able to eat very healthy at more than a fraction of the cost.

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INDEPENDENCE DAY WITH A KIWI

7/5/2012

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I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it.
– Rosalia de Castro

Wednesday, July 4, 2012 (DAY 122)
This is my first Fourth of July outside of the United States and you would think I would be celebrating with other Americans, but I find myself stuck with a Kiwi, Nikki. Just moments after bidding farewell and good riddance to Krista at the free shuttle pick up in front of the Taco Stop I hear a familiar voice calling my name. Walking towards me from across the single lane street is the fair skinned girl with dark hair I met several months ago in San Pedro La Laguna, Guatemala that lived down the narrow walkway just behind my apartment. The reunion comes as I am making my way to the beach, but welcoming the company we set out on a walk around SJDS instead. The typical topic of conversation of where we have both been over our time of separation begins what will become our daylong adventure together. Upon reaching the limits on the other side of the miniature Golden Gate Bridge that seems to be slightly out of place, we walk back towards the main strip of grass huts that line the beach. Sliding off our flip flops to walk bare foot on the sand as the surf creeps up over our skin, we can’t help but laugh at the stories and experiences each of us has had in the absence of the other. I tell her of Roberto’s determination to bicycle from El Salvador to Managua, only to have his lone form of transportation stolen only a few days after purchasing the tank of a bike, and how he was left without a choice and was submitted to sleeping in seedy motels that charged by the hour. Oh, the things we do in order to survive that would otherwise have us disgusted beyond belief. This, is Central America.

When I pause and think back to my favorite Fourth of July, there is no hesitation in my thoughts, it was with my ex-girlfriend Nichole. I’m not sure what sparked this thought years later, but for some reason it did. I think back to that hot summer night after just finishing shooting camera for the Rapid’s soccer game where I hurried to meet her and her family outside of Dick’s Sporting Good’s Park, what a mouthful, where they already had a blanket set out on the grass to enjoy the upcoming fireworks show. We had recently taken a break, but seeing her sitting there with her soft emerald eyes and wavering brunette hair in the summer breeze, I took a seat next to her where she was waiting with an inviting smile. Taking a seat next to her I placed her hand in mine where our fingers intertwined becoming one just as the darkened sky began to be illuminated with the explosive colors. I know that since then she has gotten married, and I wish her the best, because that relationship taught me a lot about myself, and, even more about what I want.

After our stroll down the beach, Nikki and I decide to stop off at what has become one of my favorite places to watch the sunset, Iguanas. Climbing up the stairs to the second floor patio, we take a seat at a table at the edge of the railing and stare out at the bay. The rolling clouds overhead move out to sea causing the rays from the fading sun to softly add bursts of color continually changing the pigments from tangerine to magentas and we both agree that this is a special place. Ready to change the topic before Nikki starts professing her love to me through poetry or some form of expressive dance, I tell her that I am eyeing our waitress with the single gold tooth that glimmers when she smiles because she reminds me a pirate wench. And I challenge any guy that does not have an affinity for a pirate wench, and if they say no, I declare liar across the board. This thought also reminds me of the smelly pirate hooker that does not cease to harass me, one Mr. Jesse Hyter from Columbus, Ohio. I know I am ashamed to admit to knowing this unlikely fellow, but since our days as college roommates I cannot shake this unkempt ogre and his band of deformed Buckeyes. I will, however, stand and applaud his girlfriend Ashely for sticking by his side through all of the monthly monetary payments and trip to Cabo, but I am sure she is tired of wearing the paper bag over her face in public. Even without meeting her yet, I know she will have a great laugh at, who else, but her boyfriend’s expense. What else can I say, but, there are two hundred and eight kinds of cereal our there and you have to repeat Count Chocula, seriously?! In closing, let me just say that this was a great Independence Day and I am reminded what this holiday is truly about, the day that Will Smith saved us from an alien invasion, God bless America.

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YOLO

6/30/2012

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I believe that the road to success is not straight. There is a curve called failure. A loop called confusion. Speed bumps called friends. Red lights called enemies. Caution lights called family. you will always have flat tires called jobs. But if you have a spare called determination, an engine called perseverance and a driver called God you will make it to a place called Success.
– Judith Morales-Kim

Friday, June 29, 2012 (DAYS 117 - 120)
The room is still pitch black, as I am being shaken awake by Lindsay and Michelle. It is 3am, and the last two members of the traveling family that arrived with me in San Juan del Sur twenty-three days ago are about to depart for the airport in Managua. Groggy and confused in my current state, the hugs and goodbyes are brief before falling back into my comatose position. When I finally come to life several hours later, the morning sun is shining through the only window in the bedroom and I am already missing the two charismatic girls from Victoria. From our first meeting in San Pedro La Laguna, Guatemala I would have never imagined the friendship that has developed over the past few months, nor traveling through four countries together and sharing countless memories full of laughter–navigating the horrendous cascading poo streams that became rivers, walking to Spanish school together, Sunday Fundays around the pool, the gluttonous brunch that causes that wonderful pain from eating too much, riding out an epic lightening storm on the beach in El Salvador, creating numerous nicknames for the characters we experienced together, surviving torrential tropical rainstorms that appear without warning while sitting comfortably on the beach, impersonating Leo on the bow of our boat on our fishing expedition, and the list goes on.

Finishing Catching Fire, my gift from Michelle Maffia with double f’s because I’m guessing those were the most common grades she brought home to Momma Dukes and Daddy Maffia, is the final book in the triology, Mockingjay, with a very lovely set of handwritten rules I should live by while on my continued journey:

1)    Don’t ever wear jeans to go swimming.
2)    No locals and no Aussies.
3)    If you watch Grandma’s Boy without me you’re a dead man.

Unsure if I should accept these three simple rules from someone that has contracted a very horrific case of herpaids on her hands, I have decided that the jury is still out.

Since my life is in a perpetual state of motion–the nomadic dance that is my indication that I am truly a vagabond–today I am leaving behind the acon den that has been an enormous luxury for Central America for a private room with a private bathroom for only $8 a night at Orlando’s House. In spite of renting the place two days ago, I have been reluctant to spend much time here since the room is both without the recycled cool air of Grandma’s house and a window to alert me of the time of day. The last time I stayed in such claustrophobic room deprived of windows was on the Mexican Riviera cruise with the guys four years ago. It amazes me how different all of our lives have turned out and where life has taken us. Scattered throughout the States, some are now married even with children, while others live out the glory days of their childhood acting careers that peaked with the tune of, “everywhere you look (everywhere) there's a heart (there's a heart) a hand to hold on to. Everywhere you look (everywhere) There's a face of somebody who needs you.”

Appreciative of the friends that I know will always be there in spite of my current physical absence in their lives, the memories remain fresh of our seven days at sea and the high energy that we brought aboard those fateful days in September. Barely making it through dinner the first night before retiring to an unforgettable karaoke performance on stage with our entire group of Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline, bum-bum-bum. The shameless efforts in our ability to sing even without holding a proper note, our presence caused others to gravitate to us like the bathrooms that beckon upon immediately consuming food at Casa Bonita. It is with this same infectious personality that I continue to meet amazing people on my journey through life unsure of who I may run in to or meet each day.

Stepping out the front door of the place which will be home for the next month, I walk the two short blocks to the beach to enjoy the sunset in solitude. Even after twenty-four days of being in SJDS, the beauty of watching the sun disappear over the Pacific is nothing short of magnificent. Walking along the shoreline as the waves rush in over my bare feet, I stop and take a seat on the sand to enjoy a front row seat of the end of another day in what can easily be called paradise. This serene moment, sitting alone, causes me to continue to be ever thankful for taking that first step to breaking free and having the courage to face the uncertainty of what many called a risk. But this risk I have chosen has rewards that I could never have expected and I hope that what I am doing causes a revolution to inspire–to motivate you beyond an existence of complacency by encouraging you to examine the missing element in your life and to passionately find your way to the fulfillment of a life that is not wasted, but brings you back to who you were always meant to be.

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SINCHON WATER GUN FESTIVAL (신촌물총축제)

Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it. – Lao Tzu

THE SMALL MOMENTS IN LIFE

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware–beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one. – Author Unknown

INDEPENDENCE DAY WITH A KIWI

I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it.
– Rosalia de Castro

YOLO

About the Author

Archives

Categories

All content is
© 2011-2017 of rtwexperiences.com All rights reserved unless otherwise noted.

SINCHON WATER GUN FESTIVAL (신촌물총축제)

​Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it. – Lao Tzu

THE SMALL MOMENTS IN LIFE

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware–beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one. – Author Unknown

INDEPENDENCE DAY WITH A KIWI

I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it. – Rosalia de Castro

YOLO

About the Author

Archives

Categories

All content is © 2011-2017 of rtwexperiences.com All rights reserved unless otherwise noted.

Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it. – Lao Tzu

I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it.
– Rosalia de Castro

All content is
© 2011-2017 of rtwexperiences.com All rights reserved unless otherwise noted.