I am by most definitions of the word a pig. I live in a messy apartment where dishes pile up in my sink with frightening speed, and empty bottles will remain in my room for weeks, begging to be recycled. I believe the “five second rule” for eating food on the floor is far too short, and that simply putting in deodorant can suffice as a substitute for a morning shower. So it is only natural that I made the pilgrimage to the Boryeong Mud Festival, which seems to be a foreigner rite of passage in South Korea.
