Monthly Archives: June 2012

Food I’ve been making.

Posted on by
5

Most days, I am bored in Korean class, which is sad but true. I already know some of the grammar, so that’s part of it, but the class just bores me to tears. The class syllabus is very synthetic, meaning that we learn grammar points independently and are then expected to synthesize them ourselves for communicative purposes. Ugh, it’s so, so painful, but there isn’t much I can do. It’s too late to move to another level, and it’s not as if my Korean is really that good. I’m just bored with the format.

So it was exciting to go on a cooking field trip on Thursday where we made bulgogi and japchae in an instructional kitchen classroom. We also learned what a trashcan is:

I loved our teacher’s haircut. Should I cut my hair while I’m here? Thoughts?

It became immediately clear who had experience in the kitchen and who didn’t. I held my breath a few times, preparing to spring into action if a classmate chopped off her finger or spilled boiling water all over himself.

Pouring soy sauce is a job for four people:

Alright, Tarita, let’s sautée the shit out of these vegetables:

I kind of love the frumpy Korean-style aprons. I might have to get one.

Here are the fruits of our labor. I did not eat the bulgogi, but I heard it was tasty:

Here’s my whole class. Mercifully, my classmates are pretty cool, so if I have to suffer, at least I’m not alone. Sorry for the awkward cleavage shot.

Today, I did a fair bit of cooking as well in preparation for homestay dad’s mother’s (homestay grandmother’s) birthday. The apartment went into psycho mode, which was a little bit stressful to be a part of.

Homestay mom made a ton of food: bulgogi, pork, fried shrimp and vegetables, rice, noodles, salads, kimchi (many kinds), sponge cake, stir-fried sardines, etc.

Homestay mom asked me a few weeks ago to make the same yellow cake with chocolate frosting for the party. It was received with moderate success, though many people chose to leave some on their plates in favor of watermelon. (This is always going to shock me.)

As you can see, the dog was very helpful.

In case you have questions about the dog, imagine that we are having a face-to-face conversation about it. This is how I would look; hopefully, you know me well enough to read through the lines.

Tomorrow, I have to buckle down and learn a lot of vocabulary and review grammar points that I have forgotten because our midterm is this week. (Can I make it another six weeks? I might perish of ennui!)

No, that’s not true. In my free time, I’ve been dreaming up ambitious projects, planning my life for the fall semester, trying to sing songs from Wicked without knowing the words, and devouring books on my Kindle. Free crappy romance novel? Sure, I’ll bite.

Wicked is awesome!

Posted on by
5

Last night, Jeongmi and I had a girls date to go see Wicked, which is having a summer run in Seoul. For some reason, I never got around to seeing this show in the US, so it was really awesome to see it in Korea AND with the Australian cast. [I was surprised to find that they use a "Mainstream American English" dialect for the dialog. I wonder why.]

The show was at the BlueSquare theater, which is a great venue. With building space so limited in Seoul, the theater is mostly underground (and accessible directly from the Hangangjin subway station). So when you walk into the lobby, you’re level with the second balcony and descend to get to the first balcony and mezzanine levels.

The lobby spaces were really decked out, one of the benefits of having the show stay for a three-month run in Seoul. You could read about the production elements, such as the fabulous costuming…oh wait, only if you can read Korean. (Speaking of costuming, the women’s fashion was so trendy in the audience. I love people-watching!)

I was actually really glad to be a native speaker of English. The Korean-speaking audience had to rely on supertitle screens on the sides of the stage. I was glad I could focus solely on the show.

Ha, look! We unintentionally stood on the appropriate sides of this display!

Gah, I had so much fun seeing Wicked. While the music isn’t my favorite, the show really is a great example of well-done “Broadway spectacle.” And the cast had really powerful voices; Jeongmi and I got goosebumps!

As I told the boyfriend last night in an email, I think Seoul is turning me into a sap. The love story made my heart hurt so much! SO MUCH.

Maybe I’ll go see it again while I’m here….

This exists.

Posted on by
1

No, that’s not a bee-hive. It’s “poo bread.” I didn’t have any.

I did have this though:

It was a thin sugar cone shaped like a corncob, containing corn-flavored ice cream with a thin coating of chocolate. Oh, and also, there were actual corn kernels mixed in the ice cream. Kind of like someone just opened up a can of corn and sprinkled a few pieces inside. Yummy?

Speaking of ice cream, scary teacher was shocked to hear this week that we think she’s scary. She seemed legitimately taken aback by this news, so we tried to explain gently that her excited outbursts and banging on the desk with her fist are a little, well, scary.

She felt bad, I think, so she bought us ice cream.

We were really excited about this, weren’t we, Tarita?

 

I found you, vegan buffet!

Posted on by
Reply

My recent freak-out has been rationalized and now contained. I feel much better about things and am ready to move on.

Yesterday, I made my third attempt to find the vegan buffet at one of the SNU dining halls. For whatever reason, I have a terrible time navigating the campus. It is very hilly, and the main thoroughfare goes around the campus rather than directly through it; I can’t find anything in the middle. The buildings are labeled not by name, but by seemingly randomly assigned number. There is some order to the placement of buildings, but for the most part, I find it to be bewildering. Moreover, not all of the buildings have the numbers prominently displayed on the sides. I managed to walk right past the building and take a long, round-about tour of the campus instead.

[On Monday, I had offered to be a participant in a linguistics graduate student's study after seeing her flyer on the bulletin board outside my classroom. I accommodated her schedule and got to campus several hours before my class starts. Only once I got to the study room did I see her last-minute text messages saying that something had come up and asking if I could reschedule. Nope.]

Ugh! I spent about 30 minutes walking around the campus looking for it. I stumbled across some sleepy humanities students:

And I tried to use this pretty pond to orient myself. Alas, no luck.

Finally, I found it!

On my prison-style tray, I had a bean paste soup, sweet rice drink, rice + beans, acorn jelly + seaweed soup, salad, sweet & sour tofu and mushrooms, steamed squash, some green thing, and a pile of seaweed with spicy sauce. There were actually three kinds of soup, and I was distressed that my tray didn’t have enough compartments for all the bowls. Unfortunately, this didn’t keep me full for very long, maybe too much liquid?

The buffet was 5000KRW, so I probably won’t go there daily. (Plus, it’s up a hill….) Still, it’s nice to know it’s there.

Child who just wetted his bed.

Posted on by
7

Yesterday, I met up with one of my former students Hyeran for a walking tour of some areas in downtown Seoul.

We started at Cheonggyecheon (청계천), a man-made stream running through the city.

Then we saw Bosingak (보신각), a bell “pavilion” nearby. Like a lot of things in Seoul, it is very old, though apparently, it burned down several times and has been rebuilt. I think it was going to be rung later that day, but I didn’t stick around to hear it.

Next on Hyeran’s agenda was Insadong (인사동), a traditional/cultural district with a main thoroughfare filled with shops. It’s a little tourist-y, but visiting it doesn’t make you feel like you’ve sold your soul to Satan (I’m talking to you, San Antonio Riverwalk!) In fact, all signage must be in hangul, even if the company is not Korean. For example:

Right away, I noticed a crowd of people forming around this normal-looking man who was getting his make-up done.

As it turns out, he is some semi-famous actor who has had roles in a few Korean dramas. Unfortunately, I don’t watch dramas, so I have no idea who he is. (엘리 씨, I am counting on you to comment and illuminate me.) Apparently, he is famous enough that we weren’t supposed to take pictures of him. Oops.

Many young Koreans are desperate to display their puppy love, as evidenced by this rooftop café’s decor. For an exorbitant price (7000 KRW), you could buy a vinyl disk and personalize it with a Sharpie, thereby making your declarations of love immortal…until the sun bleaches the writing. I’m way too cynical for this. Sorry, boyfriend (who doesn’t read MicaPie).

I, however, was more interested in playing this traditional Korean game, which involves throwing a wooden dowel into a narrow bucket:

As Hyeran’s urging, I also posed with this “winnowing basket.” According to the sign, this basket was used by Korean mothers of yesteryear to humiliate their children into not wetting their beds:

“The mother puts a winnowing basket on her child who just wetted his bed and spread the rumor to embarrass the child about the fact that he just wetted his bed in order to let him avoid wetting his bed again in the future. She then demanded the child to go around the neighbor and ask for salt which will repel negative vitality.”

Now, I have no plans for children right now, but if I had them, I would most certainly use such a device on my bed-wetting progeny.

Don’t laugh. I wetted myself with the condensation on my water bottle:

Near Insadong is Jogyesa (조계사), a famous Buddhist temple. My last experience with a Buddhist temple in Korea involved nearly puking in the backseat of an Acura, so this time was mercifully shorter and easier. Plus, the temple was hosting a lot of cultural events that I could participate in:

One of the activities was getting to make traditional dduk or Korean rice cake. This involves beating rice into submission until it becomes a giant gelatinous mass, which is then consumed as absurd mockery of real dessert. [I kid, Korea! Sort of.] The mallet was actually quite heavy. As such, only men were trying this activity…that is, until I came along.

Check out the Korean guys in the background. I’ve got them shakin’ in their boots.

I hear that Jogyesa is normally a peaceful respite in the hustle and bustle of Seoul, but that was not the case yesterday. The rice cake that I was pounding was being distributed for free, and if there is one thing that Korean ajummas love, it is free stuff.

You seriously could have mistaken this scene for humanitarian food aid distribution during a severe famine when people’s hunger drives them to unscrupulous behavior. Or maybe they were that excited to taste dduk pounded by yours truly.

I didn’t want to get trampled by some ajummas for free food, so Hyeran and I slipped off to a cute Korean restaurant that made giant dumplings:

I, however, had bibimbap.

Though I’m a little sad that I missed the Made dishes boiled beef (and the devil knows what boiled beef):

Hyeran is actually from Ulsan, but she went to Yonsei University and knows a lot about Seoul. She was a great tour guide and came up with a lot of things to do. This is a lot more pleasant than when people just ask me to decide. It’s not as if I’m going to say, “Hmm, first I’m hoping that there’s a thousand-year-old bell pavilion. And then I demand to find a Korean C-list celebrity before being trampled by some middle-aged women at a Buddhist temple.” Seriously, I can’t even dream up stuff this good.

 

Oh, hi, campground neighbor!

Posted on by
5

Last night, I attended the GOA’L Summer Barbecue.  GOA’L (Global Overseas Adoptees’ Link) is an adoptee-founded and -run organization and is a great resource for adoptees around the world and in Korea. This was the first GOA’L event that I attended, and it was kind of strange to see so many adult adoptees in one place.

I met some new people, of course, but it wasn’t any sort of emotional hug-fest, if that’s what you were expecting. People who are not adopted often assume that adoptees bond almost instantaneously with each other because of our shared experiences/grief/loss/whatever. However, that really isn’t the case.

That being said, I’ve liked a lot of the adoptees I have met (Hi, Kim!). And last night, I really enjoyed meeting some of Beth’s [adoptee] friends that she has made here.

Oh, and let’s talk about this Nanji “Campground,” shall we? Let’s just say that no one was roughin’ it in the wilderness last night. This is the kind of campground that you could not pay my dad to stay in.

Basically, you pay 5000KRW for a wristband to enter a giant dusty field, where you set up a tent and…eat and drink.

Think fairgrounds or outdoor music festival venue. You are ridiculously close to your neighbors–so close, in fact, that we considered stealing their water:

We were also close enough to take a gander while a 5-year-old child pulled down his pants and took a dump in a plastic bag before being wiped by his unfazed parents. Oh, right. Okay then!

But don’t worry! There was the illusion of camping! Many Koreans love (LOVE!!!) to buy gear: biking gear, hiking outfits, golf clubs and gloves, you name it!

I’m pretty the allure of Seoul camping is not spending time in nature; it’s the purchase of a tent to be used as a holding cell for your sacked-out child:

About honesty and vegetarianism in Korea

Posted on by
6

When I was filled out the registration form for my homestay several months ago, I indicated that I was vegetarian and listed “meat, fish, and seafood” as foods that I avoid. The homestay coordinator assured me that whichever host family I selected would accommodate my vegetarianism as best they could, but I prepared to turn a blind eye in some situations. In general, Korea is a notoriously difficult place to be a vegetarian because some animal-based products sneak their way into almost every component of the meal.

Decapitated anchovies for stir-fry or broth….

However, when I arrived at my homestay, it quickly became clear that my family was unaware of my dietary preference. (Oh, hi, beef!) At first, I thought they just didn’t “get” vegetarianism. To be polite, I ate the dishes with meat, though I did explain that “in America, I try not to eat beef because…I don’t like it.”

In retrospect, it seems ridiculous that I didn’t speak up more clearly, but I was (am) terrified of offending my host family. After all, they opened up their house to a complete stranger for twelve weeks and cook for me every day. And what I eat they eat, so I didn’t want to inconvenience them terribly. Since I’m relatively new to vegetarianism and actually do enjoy the taste of meat, I toyed with the idea of being an omnivore in Korea until my return home in August. This made me feel very uncomfortable.

Salad that I made myself for lunch. 

This morning’s breakfast was a breaking point though. I did not want to eat an egg sandwich with a huge slice of processed ham and a Kraft single on it. I tried to eat my sandwich as slowly as possible and wait until everyone left for work/school so I could pick out the ham and cheese. Then, as always happens, homestay mom decided that she gave herself too much food and unceremoniously removed the ham from her own sandwich and put it back in the fridge.

Meanwhile, I had forced myself into a corner with a ham sandwich as a companion. Awesome.

After everyone left, I cried about this on Skype with my mom and received a really reassuring pep-talk from a fellow adoptee and “sister vegetarian” on Facebook. [Susie, if you read this, I <3 you!!!]

When life hands you processed ham, eat peanut butter bagels.

I sent an email–half in Korean, half in English–to the homestay coordinator asking her advice. Fortunately, she works with homestay dad at the same municipal office, and she immediately made him aware of the situation and apologized profusely…even though this whole thing is my own fault.

I was so nervous to come home tonight because I anticipated a barrage of questions and accusations: But you’ve been eating meat! But you said everything was delicious! [This, for the most part, is true.] Why did you eat chicken the other night?!? 

When homestay mom came home though, her arms were loaded with fresh produce, and she immediately started making dinner. When I started to help, she eventually said, “So you’re vegetarian? I’m so sorry! This must have been so hard for you! You should tell me if there’s something you don’t eat.” and apologized several times. [Obviously, this was in Korean, so it's possible that I misunderstood her.]

Stir-fried peppers. Unsurprisingly, this dish was spicy.

I feel foolish that I didn’t speak up earlier, and I feel so relieved that I got this out in the open, even using my terrible, limited Korean.

Even more than speaking up for myself though, I learned an important lesson about how I’ve been viewing my homestay family.

I think it’s dangerous to use culture as a blanket justification for every “strange” behavior and interaction we have with someone from a different country. For example, some of my ESL students are unfamiliar with the importance placed upon intellectual property in American academic culture, but that in no way excuses them when they commit blatant plagiarism. And saying “Well, their culture doesn’t have that concept” just reduces them from people to ambiguous products of their “culture”…whatever that actually means.

Likewise, when something weird happens to me here, it’s frustrating to hear “Oh, that must just be how Koreans are!” I mean, some people are just weird. If a non-American met me, would s/he think that I represented “how all Americans are”?

Yay, meat-free dinner!

[I told homestay mom that I was fine picking out meat from certain dishes.]

Here’s the thing though: by martyring myself, I was effectively doing the same thing to my homestay family. I was desperate not to offend them because I had heard that Koreans “don’t understand vegetarianism,” but I wasn’t actually seeing them as the kind, generous people that they are. I wasn’t even giving them a chance to try to accommodate me; instead, I naively assumed that they would be incapable of or unwilling to deal with a vegetarian. Certainly, some Koreans might be this way, but my homestay family seems eager to make me feel comfortable and at-home.*

*Except I think homestay sister is rather upset about this new development. She loves meat. I’m going to try to buy her lots of ice cream….

If you’ve made it all the way through this long post, congratulations! Your reward? More pictures.

This is apparently how you move out of the apartment complex, via mechanized cart:

This is our teacher today, after inflicting corporal punishment on a classmate for not knowing the difference between the “to” and “at” particles.

Edit (6/25/12): I was just served kimbap for breakfast containing tuna, fish-based fake crab, and ham. I assume homestay mom forgot, but I really felt uncomfortable saying something. I just picked out the animal products, but I don’t think she saw me.

Ten Floors of Thanks

Posted on by
4

My host family lives on the 10th floor of their building. There is one elevator that services the 20+ floors. It’s pretty speedy, and I usually don’t have to wait that long to use it.

However, I try to take the stairs as much as possible. With crappy running conditions, I’m trying to get in as much other exercise as possible, including walking up the stairs.

After walking the two-mile walk home from campus, the last thing I usually want to do is trudge up to the 10th floor, especially in an un-air-conditioned stairwell. Additionally, Seoul is apparently in the middle of a heat wave and drought. We even had a blackout “drill” today…which pretty much involved a loud and obnoxious siren but no actual blackout. Bottom line: I am hot and sweaty.

In any event, this week, I’ve tried a new strategy to tackle the stairs because sometimes, the thought of even bigger calves is not motivating enough to get me moving.

On the stairs and landing between each floor, I focus on one person or thing for which I am thankful. I try to use the first thing that comes to mind, though obviously this doesn’t work if I accidentally think of something like genocide or  factory farming. Otherwise, I concentrate on finding at least one positive aspect of this item or person that I appreciate.

For example, I am very thankful for my parents because they support me and help me realize many of my life goals and plans, no matter how bizarre or fleeting they may be. (Obvious.)

On another floor, I was thankful for my legs because they carry me around Seoul. (Good counterbalance to Homestay dad jokingly saying that I was heavy last night after asking my weight.)

Between another floor, I was thankful for cake because it was delicious.

This sounds kind of lame, but before I know it, I’ve reached the tenth floor, and I’m dripping sweat in front of the apartment door. Plus, it makes me feel like I’m a slightly nicer person.

English-y club

Posted on by
8

Tarita’s homestay dad goes to an English conversation club every Tuesday, so last night, we tagged along.

For an hour and a half, we sat with some Koreans who were very eager to practice their English. It was pretty fun, though having taught ESL for two years now, I can’t say that it was a particularly new experience.

[Tarita and I later discussed how you know you've been spending a lot of time with non-native English speakers when you start orienting your stories in time by saying "At that time..."]

After English club was over (at 9:15pm), can you guess what time it was?

If you guessed Eating and Drinking Time, you’d be correct.

The group went to a sit-on-the-floor restaurant and proceeded to demolish several platters of jim dak (찜닭), which is spicy soy-glazed chicken and vegetables.

This moist towelette didn’t just encourage you to clean your hands; the reverse side told you all about God and Jesus. I’m wondering if the restaurant owner had stolen a bunch from a church or something….

Tarita and I sat across from this man, whose name I don’t recall, and–man–he had a lot to tell us. He had a very jolly laugh and for whatever reason, a slightly German + Borat-esque accent.

He was very excited to hear that Tarita was from Chicago. He really wanted us to listen to “The Night Chicago Died” on his hilariously huge smartphone in the middle of dinner.

Then he told us his big “secret.” This was a story about how when he studied in London in the 1970′s, he was arrested because he drunkenly got in a fight with his friend or roommate. I can’t remember. The story was frequently interrupted by calls for more soju consumption and food.

He also told Tarita something to this effect:

“I think your descendants [We later realized he meant 'ancestors.'] must be European because you look…very pretty.”

I had at least three conversations to this effect last night:

Korean: Where are you from?

Me: Illinois [Though I should say Virginia since I didn't grow up in IL, and things get confusing.]…the United States

Korean: But your parents…they are Korean.

Me: Sort of. I’m adopted. [This is met with blank stares.]

(By now, at least five Koreans are listening, all wondering the same thing.)

Me: I-byang-a. ["Adoptee"]

Koreans: Ahhhhhh….[Sad sympathy cloud descends upon the table.]

Korean drinking culture is fraught with rules that I don’t really understand. For example, you can’t pour your own drink; someone else has to notice and pour it for you. Also, when you drink, I think you’re suppose to turn your head to the side (and sometimes cover your mouth) out of politeness to your fellow drinkers.

This is actually a bunch of juice that I dumped my soju into. Unsurprisingly, going to the other side of the world does not make beer or liquor taste any better.

See that man in the white shirt? Tarita’s homestay dad insists that he is very attractive because he is tall and has big eyes. He was literally stunned that Tarita and I were not trying to jump his bones.

We got home at 11:30, and it was time to sleep.

Oh, I forgot that this exchange happened between me and the two gentlemen pictured above. (I actually can’t remember their names, so I have to refer to them thusly.)

Korean 1: What’s your nickname?

Me: Mica. My name is Mica. I don’t have a nickname.

Koreans 1 & 2: M…ay…i…what? what?

Me: Miiiiiica.

Koreans 1 & 2: Mi-ga?…MY GOD??

Me: No, Mi-/k/a. Mica!

Koreans 1 & 2: Like Oh mygod?

Me: : No, like Mica. With a k-sound. 

Koreans 1 & 2: Oh…like My-Car. [This is a car model here.]

Me: No, like Mica. M-I-C-A.

Koreans 1 & 2: Oh…Meeka!!!