I’m reading blogs about politics and health care and am fixing to implode, especially when I have something to say! And I want to talk about cicadas!

The dog days of summer must be coming to an end because I am hearing fewer and fewer cicadas as I walk to and from work each day. For about two or three weeks–I really should have been keeping records–the sound of the cicadas here in Seoul was absolutely deafining. Whenever I would walk by a group of trees, the sound would be overwhelming. Once, I even stopped and did the do–re–me–fa–so–la–te–do–thing and about decided that the sound and cadence was a high do. Is that C? I am not kidding. There are weeks when the sound of cicadas in Seoul is so overwhelming it hurts your ears. I can’t imagine those without air-conditioning with windows open who can’t sleep because of the perpetual noise of male cicadas trilling, screeeching, chirrping for a mate. Alberto, one of my teaching co-horts, assurred me it is not pleasant! (Actually, I did some research and found that the sound of the cicadas in Seoul measures at 74 decibles. The acceptable decible is 40! Sooo, what does that tell you?)

My students are for the most part absolutely afraid of bugs. I love bugs! So I bring in bugs to these six-year olds every chance I get. One morning I stumbled on a cicada nymph shell and brought it to class for us to see and look at under my magnifying glass that I need to read the subway map and to talk about. I had no idea at the time–early June–what a huge force cicadas are in this city. In West Texas the sound of the lone cicada is the sound of summer. With its trill, I can visualize summer and heat and dry air, all vaporizining into the summer sun with a few dust devils in the background. Here, in Seoul, there are hundreds, no, maybe thousands, trilling at the same time. Believe me, it’s deafining! On my walk to school, I pass by a few parks and a few apartment buildings with trees. That is the formula for cicadas–in mass!

After I brought the one lone cicada to class and we talked about it and looked at it and I put it on dispay, I thought that was the end. NO! Lynn, who is probably the most insect-phobic of the group, brought me a zip-lock bag full of nymph carcasses that her nanny scooped up from the swimming pool! I have never seen so many in one spot at one time! But we talked about them and looked at them and discussed how to wash your hands after touching one of them.

But today as I walked home, I heard fewer cicadas. In some spots, I am sure it was only one, lone male still hoping for a mate–that’s what the trill is all about. But it also made me realize that summer is wanning. I keep astrological charts every morning from Wunderweather which tells me when the sun rises and sets. It’s been fun knowing when the daylight hours are getting shorter or longer and especially interesting from differnent parts of the world since I try to keep up with friends and family from all over the world. WOW! This world is a phenomenol place!

Today I just heard one or two. Last week I actualy stopped by a boxwood and watched a lone male trilling for a female. His thorax was vibrating away. He was a handsome male, so when I heard the sound it made me realize that I hope he has found his true love. He was trying sooooo hard! Surely a likely female heard him. Hmmmm, what lessons are there for us alll. His is a life and death scenario. Ours . . . . .

Ok, my class is now on to snails. We have four of them in two plastic boxes. I have done the research and am hoping for better habitats for them in the next few days, but we shall see. I don’t have a particularly good track record for keeping species alive. Dont’ ask about the silk worms! They never did make moths!! Yes, I still feel guilty!

It has been hot and humid here in the city. But it’s summer. It’s a peninsula. It’s supposed to be hot and humid. I find if I don’t think about it and don’t talk about it and, above all, don’t complain about it, I puddle though just fine. (My friend Trish taught me that from all her years as a coaches wife sitting in the bleachers!) Yesterday, however, was a very nice day: not too hot, nice breezes, cloudy.

Usually when I go places in Seoul, I go by subway. They’re easy. They’re convenient. They’re in English! But that means I see more of what’s underground than above where the real action and people and places are teeming. So yesterday, I decided to take Blue Bus 147 and ride the whole loop. The buses are not in English. There is a muted speaker that announces stops in several languages and English, but the routes published at the bus stop are mostly in Korean. And the drivers in their beautifully pressed white shirts and white gloves, don’t speak English. The blue buses go all over Seoul, through many Dongs and Gus, so I thought with a blue bus I’d see more of the city.

I began my adventure at 9:30. I know because I took notes along the way and noted time and places we passed. I got a good window seat. It wasn’t long before the bus made the bottom end of the loop and headed north across the river.

I saw streets beautifully lined with shading sycamores and sometimes ginkos. I saw unique sculptures tucked into nooks, crannies, and small and large plazas. I saw streets lines with shops selling light fixtures and streets of shops selling metal beams and streets with shops selling bicycles. I saw streets lined with market stalls selling all kinds of produce, clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry, trinkets. I saw skyscrapers of every shape and architectural design harboring no telling what businesses in their multitudinous office space. I saw people, people, people, shopping, strolling, hurrying, each carrying out his or her unknown–to me–agenda. But that’s to be expected in one of the most densely populated cities in the world.

We keep heading north. (I slip into present tense as I relive the adventure!) The mountains get clearer and closer. The skyscrapers are now mostly apartment buildings–lots of apartment buildings. Things are more spread out. The pace on the streets has slowed down. We pass a road sign for Dream Forest that looks interesting–something to check out in my guide book. I make a note in my notebook. I’m the only passenger on the bus now, and have been for quite some time.

The driver makes a sharp turn. I note it’s 11:00. The bus stops. I look up. The driver indicates I have to get off. We’re in the bus barn. It’s the end of the line! What happened to the loop? And I’m way the heck on the northern boundaries of Seoul–far, far from home, or at least familiar territory.

No problem. I figure I just cross the street and catch the 147 headed in the other direction, except I was taking notes and not paying attention, so I cross the wrong street and end up at a huge–and not overly crowded–E Mart. E Mart here is comparable to Wal Mart at home. There are no E Marts in my Apgujeong neighborhood and the one that I have been to that’s a taxi drive from my home is always sooo crowded, so I take the opportunity to explore the store at my leisure.

I found Longhorn Cheddar cheese! American cheese! That is truly a find, so I stocked up. I also found a big bag of apples for 2,500 won–a really good price. I figure I had better stop because whatever I buy, I have to lug all the way back across the river.

Back on the street I see 147 disappear ahead of me, so I follow its trail. Then I see it again as it turns a corner. So do I. I make it to the bus stop to wait for the next bus and realize I’ve been chasing 149 which I have no idea where it goes. A street signs points to Hagye Subway station which my subway map tells me is line 7 which connects with line 3–my line–at Express Bus Station with just the one transfer. All other routes are going to take three transfers. I opt for the longer ride, luckily find a seat in the old people, handicapped, and pregnant women section and settle in for a long ride home.

Once again, I’m underground. But that’s ok. Now I can read the book that’s in my bag, with my precious cheese and apples nestled on the floor beside me. I can look up every once in awhile and people watch. Or I can go over all the notes I took and try to figure out where I went wrong–or not. What’s an adventure for if it doesn’t entail a little mystery.

Besides, it was a beautiful day above ground: not too hot, nice breezes, cloudy.

I’ve been to China: the Wall, the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace.
I’ve shopped for pearls and tea.
I’ve learned about jade and silk and medicine,
But the most beautiful sight is when the blue sky I see.

I arrived on Sunday and the skies were gray
And never changed that luster.
When I complained and spoke of smog,
“It’s just cloudy!” my guide would bluster.

The square is huge, the crowds were large
As we crammed into the Forbidden city
Where common people weren’t allowed to go,
Only inclusive royalty–truly a pity.

Imagine not having the common touch,
Not living among common folk,
Not understanding their wants and needs,
Does that make governing a joke?

Is there a lesson for us in this ancient place
As we send off elected representatives
To look out for our needs, our lives, and our country,
To our future are they being attentive?

Emperors and empresses in long ago days
Created the Summer Palace.
A place they could relax, walk and play,
A place to avoid the masses.

Create a lake. Create some gardens.
Create the world’s longest corridor.
A beautiful place away form the people;
Who could ask for anything more?

Where are the people in these places I see,
The places set aside for tourists.
Why is history only about
Emperors, legislators, and jurists?

Tienemen Square is truly huge,
Surrounded by government buildings,
A place to gather, protest, and be seen
While barricades police are shielding.

The Ming Tombs are a beautiful, tranquil place
The burial spot of many,
But particularly honoring Zhu Di, who in pushing China ever forward,
Spent many a hard earned penny.

Ahh, the Great Wall, what can I say,
It’s a long way to the top.
But I made it up there, step by step,
With many a pause and a stop.

The view was beautiful though smoggy and gray,
And the Wall stretched for miles and miles,
Winding and dipping on mountain top ways,
Protecting from Mongols’ frightening wiles.

My knees are still creaking, screeching, “What have you done?”
Did you really need to go so far?
But it was there and I did it and am glad that I did.
And there was Ibupfofen back in the car!

I learned about tea–it’s good–and pearls–they’re beautiful–and jade–it’s healthy–and art,
Before I left that place.
And the silk was amazing and so cheaply priced
I could have come home with a case.

But travelers beware! Be sure to call
Your home based credit card company,
Or you’ll end up like me with temptations galore
And not able to spend a penny!

Ahh, well, I leave with memories intact,
With almost one thousand pictures,
With a knowledge of goods and food and life
Despite all those gray sky strictures.