(no subject)
Charlie Korea update 4
My return to Korea after the holidays was strange. From frozen Minneapolis right into the frozen Seoul. The city was still decked out for the holidays, christmas lights lining all of the dense commerce areas. And ice on the streets --no snow, except for a few nights: just ice. And an absurd amount of darkness -perhaps without accumulated snow to reflect the sunlight, there is a relative light deficiency.
The first task awaiting me was obtaining my Alien Registration Card. The immigration office was, like I imagine it must be in every country: crowded, uncomfortable, and full of Southeast Asians. There was also a very white guy with a large hat. After two and a half hours of waiting, my chance came. They convinced me to hand my passport over to them and promised they would give it back in a week. In exchange, I got a one page receipt written in mysterious Korean. For that whole week, I had zero identification. I also forgot that I needed my passport to get money from the bank, so I was on a constrained budget. But it worked out in the end, because when I came back I got my passport and an additional Official ID card. That's right: thenceforth, I became LEGAL. No more complicated payment transactions! I was also now on the road to getting some kind of insurance from my employer, in the event of extensive bodily harm to yours truly.
Namdaemun
In early February my friend Ryan from back in Minnesota visited from Japan. Among other things, I went with him and our friend Min to the Namdaemun gate. This is the 'southern big gate', designated as Korea's number one national treasure. You could walk right up to and through the gate, which was kind of special. I especially liked this amazing painted wood beneath the gate portraying two dragons in pleasant colors --I think I took pictures of these last fall. Anyways, a week after our visit there in february, there was big news on the television: the Namdaemun Gate had been burned down.
The imagery was all over the television, showing firefighters going at it all night with their gigantic hoses dribbling lamely into the inferno. Despite their efforts, the gate was a total loss. The structure was around 500 years old. It had miraculously been spared the ire of the Japanese occupation, due to its historical significance (A Japanese general famously passed through the gate to conquer the city). It had been rebuilt a few times over the years, but some of the wood, up until this fire, had been from the original.
The man responsible for the arson gave himself up the next day. He was more than seventy years old, and apparently angry because of a property dispute with the government. Also he was pretty clearly not well in the head. He had already been put in jail for a while a few years back, for an unsuccessful arson of the famous Changdeokgung palace. He got the idea that the Namdaemun would be an easy target, because it was so devoid of protection. The news showed very detailed 3d reproductions of how this man entered the gate and exactly where he spread the fuel for the fire.
The next day, people gathered around the burned down structure, crying and paying their respects and --some of them-- making crazy demonstrations. A few days later, the city built a forty foot wall around it, putting it completely out of sight of the commuters.
There was scandal, however. Blame placed on Lee Myongbak, that current President of Korea who had decided to 'open up' access to the Namdaemun gate during his time as mayor of Seoul. And more blame on the fire department for inadequate response --when they did get to the gate, they were overly cautious and refrained from cutting into the structure to get at the source of the fire. Then, one week later, in an irony strike: the fire station had a fire, and there was again an inadequate response. The building hadn't even been equipped with sprinklers --against fire code.
The new president started the year off by making grand plans. There was a road bump when someone in his cabinet announced a plan to teach all subjects in English. This was scaled back to a major plan to 'Teach English in English'. To me and perhaps most people, this sounds like common sense. But the idea met with a lot of opposition: most English teachers here DON'T teach English in English. Many old English teachers teach 'by the book' and speak little to no English in class. And this includes veteran teachers. As part of the 'teach english in english' initiative, Myong Bak hopes to recruit many native speakers with little to no teaching experience --wives and college students -- in the hopes of increasing English education. I guess between the inexperienced native speakers and the experienced non-speakers, I really am not sure who I'd prefer to learn English from (from whom I'd prefer to learn English).
Spring
Springtime has arrived. With it? The yellow sand.
I had heard little of this phenomenon until very recently, when everybody started talking about it. The yellow sand comes in the spring time from deserts in China. It gets in the air in Korea here, causing the sky to turn a different shade of yellow. Full-blown sandstorms occur in the South (pun incidental). But almost everywhere, the sand silently builds up outdoors. And also, inside of people's lungs, or something.
When talking about the yellow sand, no one even tries to hide resentment toward China --terrible, they say. I can't say I'm an expert on this kind of thing myself, but it seems a little bit unfair to chalk it all up to Chinese carelessness. Then again, dangerous yellow sand invisibly flying through the air from a specific source is pretty scary. Good old fashioned pollution is one thing --but the idea of mysterious sand getting in my lungs is somehow more unsettling, somehow.
Spring is for entrance to college! And the workplace! A few weeks ago, I ran across several different letter-jacket garbed orientation groups shouting songs and dipping in and out of various bars. In the same district, there were military uniform-clad lads singing similar songs. Then on another day, I saw three lines of uniformed ladies in front of a branch of Shin-han Bank shouting out something in unison, a large-headed costume caricature of an old businessman in front of them.
A few friends that I've made are in jobhunting mode. One new thing I've learned about here that I hadn't known in Japan was about a specific type of 'study group'. My friend Chloe says that she had to 'try out' for entrance to a study group of about 8 people, from various universities. None of them know each other, but they are all driven by a desire to get a good job in hotel or airline hospitality fields. So as a study group, they all work on their resumes and share knowledge of different companies and positions --highly efficient, and no wasted time on silliness. Chloe said that she had already belonged to a similar study group, but that they had become too close of friends, and were no longer efficient. Which I think is a whole fascinating thing.
So, there is a huge expectation for some job applicants here that they get 'mandatory english skills'. My friend Min told me that it is usual for girls to spend 5 years in college: 4 years of university curriculum, plus one year studying english (either abroad, or at a language school). They need the English score from the TOEFL (a major English test) to apply to jobs or grad school. I don't know whether this phenomenon is exactly true for males, also, because their situation is even more complex.
The mandatory military service is a strange thing. I've mentioned it before, but I will explain a bit more. All men here, at the age of 20, have to sign up for military service. This usually lasts two years. And the guys are usually half way through college at the point that they leave, and return later to finish their curriculum. This imminent service is pretty strange. Those who go might not see their very family and friends much for the whole time. They might get assigned to exercises at the airport, or guarding the mountains to the north, or patrolling the perimeter of the American military base.
Some of my coworkers were influenced heavily by the service. Eunghee told me how he was a big slacker, and that the discipline he learned during military service turned his life around and made him a harder worker. Hyeun had a similar story: he was a slacker at the beginning of college, but he was suddenly inspired by the fear of military service to work very hard and apply for a more prestigious study program in order to exempt him from the service. So there are good things to come from it, though most people I talk to refer to it only as an unfortunate rite of passage; a waste of two years of youth.
It also adds an interesting dynamic to relationship equations: after the boys (now men?) return from service, their female classmates are all two years younger than them. I won't delve into the possible social side effects of this, but one can imagine.
Miscellaneous
The whole 'combining work and home' thing I noticed before has taken new heights. Before I had been put off by how much time some of my coworkers would spend at the lab --it becomes more than there work space, but also where they stay to have fun, watch downloaded movies, etc. This was strange. Then, I paid more attention and realized that the guard for our building never seems to leave. As a matter of fact, he has a little room near the entrance of the building, with a bed and a television. So... he DOESN'T leave. Then there are people in my neighborhood whose houses are so full of commodities ready to be sold that there is barely space for them to sleep. Just rugs rugs and more rugs, and there they are, even late at night, still at work. And on a walk last night, I saw what looked like a fruitstand storefront. Except the transparent glass of the closed store revealed that there was a man inside lying on a mattress in his underwear watching television. Piles of oranges all around him.
Perhaps I take it for granted that people have a refuge from the biggest difficulties in life, but this is not the case all around.
Again, what have I actually done in the past while? Not too much. I think that the return to a familiar Korean routine, and the onset of winter's darkness and laziness (and not to mention, my lack of Korean skills) resulted in a lack of motivation on my part. Also, importantly, many of my friends from the fall were either out of the city or out of the country entirely during this time between semesters. I found myself staying in, going to safe places very often. But intermittently, I would build up the nerve to do as I had used to, and find new places and try to meet people. Okay, I feel a little strange that a lot of my encounters with strangers are had at pubs. I'd never thought that these would be places I would actually go to for company. However, in the absence of classmates, school clubs, or Korean language capabilities, this most timeless of communities now seems like the right tool for the job.
When I DID get up the courage to go out, I was often rewarded with the unexpected:
-Meeting an old British guy at a pub, who had grown up and shipped off to serve in the WW2, and who now did editorial work for the local newspaper and helped his friend run a deli in Seoul.
-Finding a bar that caters to Japanese people --everyone speaks Japanese. I played darts with the owner and some Japanese guys who were in a band. Later at 2am when the bar was closing, the Korean proprietor of a neighboring bar called 'LP', invited me and the bartenders over to his bar/home for a home-cooked meal. He played Nirvana and jazz and then Beethoven.
-Meeting many strangers who have secret English skills. These people are generally some flavor of Christianity, and love to engage in friendly battles over my soul, and I in good humor attempt to take theirs in turn. One of them said he enjoyed our conversation so much he wanted to offer me a job tutoring his high school students for pretty good bucks.
-Wandering. Always wandering, my forever-schtick. I feel so rewarded to see new sites in places close and far. Glimpses of old ladies in their houses making carpets near my apartment;
-Meeting a chinese bartender who is here studying the Korean language, and who works ridiculous hours in addition to attending language classes. We speak broken English, sometimes facilitated by roughly translating Chinese terms into Japanese ones.
-Dancing --once in a club that was terribly crowded, another almost completely empty. Though I didn't manage to talk to anyone (besides strange guys tapping me on the shoulder) being in the vicinity of people and convulsing to random electronic noises in unison was comforting and fulfilling in a way that is hard to describe.
Also:
My coworker Sung-jae was kind enough to invite me to spend the day with his family one day: his wife, baby, and sisters. We played a board game traditionally played on the Chinese new year, which was quite engaging. Then Grandma showed up and I learned how to bow more properly. Then we went to sing Karaoke which is always heart-warming. Later I got to go biking with his sisters by the river, and it felt absolutely amazing. They rent really old bikes there, one of the few places in the city that seems bike-safe.
The following is related only to food, and should maybe be skipped:
The first I will describe is a hotdog encounter. There is a little hotdog shop not too far from my house. One night I found myself craving a hotdog for some nostalgic reason or other. The food image I had in my head was the classic ballpark frank, a pretty fake and horrifying concoction but holding a pleasant familiarity. Well, as I said it was at night and I was hungry, and I'd just been disappointed to find out that my favorite Kebab stand had been closed down. In this time of desperation, I saw the sign that promised 'New York Hotdogs' and I was won over. I went in and ordered one. Three bucks. A few minutes later, I got it in a little hotdog sized paper dish. On top of the dog was a squiggly line of what looked like E-Z-Cheese. The bun was moist. It didn't look that great, but it had to be at least okay! I'd paid good money for it, and I was going to enjoy it! So I took a bite: It was horrible. It tasted exactly like what a priori one would imagine a hotdog tasted like given all the explicit details of its genetic makeup. The fake cheese and soggy bun did not help. No, this did not even have the hint of mildness of the ballpark frank. It was bordering on Spam, in fact, but somehow worse because it was being taken seriously, in its little carton container. I was the only one in the hotdog shop, except for the guy working there. Out of courtesy, I took another bite, only to realize that this may be the worst thing I've eaten ever. I sat in the shop for fifteen minutes reading a book, hiding the half-eaten dog from the worker. After that, I held the hotdog at my side as I exited, hoping he did not see. Down the street I went, cradling this pitiful thing sideways between both hands, like chinese handcuffs. People passed me, curious looks on their faces. At last, I found an open garbage bag in which to deposit the monstrosity. I bought convenience store ramen that night, hopefully teaching myself a lesson of some sort, though I forget exactly what it was. (Sadly a few weeks later I bought another promising-smelling hot dog from a different stand, and threw away that one as well. Lesson learned yet?)
Did you know? Garbage bags are sold here by the city district. Garbage bags and stickers. If trash is not official, it is not picked up. The district has this really odd yellow mascot figure, like the end of a banana with a smiley face on it. So it's curious to look down the street and see piles and piles of bags with this whimsical character.
Okay, I set out one day to find the best burger in town, and learned something important about Korean food. I'd had pretty good, if overpriced, burgers at KrazeBurger, a chain restaurant near my home, but I wanted the potential best. So I looked online, and found some pubs in the foreigner district. I went to a seemingly good one, and ordered myself their best burger. What came looked okay, but there was something wrong with it. Once I finished, I realized the problem: the slice of super-processed cheese stuck in there like some chemical byproduct. Aside from the cheese, it would have been edible and even tasty. But the fake cheese ruins everything. They rely on these horrible slices of cheese often when making western style food --good cheese here is very hard to come by. And unfortunately even mid range restaurants with otherwise quality food will ruin dishes by incorporating this horrible horrible cheese. They put it everywhere --even in traditional Korean food, or Japanese food, or soups (where this piece of unholy cheese floats over the top). So, it's something I watch out for, now.
Still weirding me out:
-The soup with a gigantic fishhead floating in it, eyeballs and everything.
-This creature I see in fish tanks outside of seafood restaurants. My coworker tells me that it's name is the same as the term for a certain piece of a dog's anatomy.
-I found out that some food I had tasted was actually manta ray! I never thought I would check that one off the list of life forms I've consumed... pride or shame?
-I had a cup of warm pupae! They tasted like baked beans!
Fun fact:
I believe I had a vitamin deficiency last month!
Pictures can be found at:
http://www.chookbobberki.110mb.com/CharlieKoreaWeb4/index.html
My return to Korea after the holidays was strange. From frozen Minneapolis right into the frozen Seoul. The city was still decked out for the holidays, christmas lights lining all of the dense commerce areas. And ice on the streets --no snow, except for a few nights: just ice. And an absurd amount of darkness -perhaps without accumulated snow to reflect the sunlight, there is a relative light deficiency.
The first task awaiting me was obtaining my Alien Registration Card. The immigration office was, like I imagine it must be in every country: crowded, uncomfortable, and full of Southeast Asians. There was also a very white guy with a large hat. After two and a half hours of waiting, my chance came. They convinced me to hand my passport over to them and promised they would give it back in a week. In exchange, I got a one page receipt written in mysterious Korean. For that whole week, I had zero identification. I also forgot that I needed my passport to get money from the bank, so I was on a constrained budget. But it worked out in the end, because when I came back I got my passport and an additional Official ID card. That's right: thenceforth, I became LEGAL. No more complicated payment transactions! I was also now on the road to getting some kind of insurance from my employer, in the event of extensive bodily harm to yours truly.
Namdaemun
In early February my friend Ryan from back in Minnesota visited from Japan. Among other things, I went with him and our friend Min to the Namdaemun gate. This is the 'southern big gate', designated as Korea's number one national treasure. You could walk right up to and through the gate, which was kind of special. I especially liked this amazing painted wood beneath the gate portraying two dragons in pleasant colors --I think I took pictures of these last fall. Anyways, a week after our visit there in february, there was big news on the television: the Namdaemun Gate had been burned down.
The imagery was all over the television, showing firefighters going at it all night with their gigantic hoses dribbling lamely into the inferno. Despite their efforts, the gate was a total loss. The structure was around 500 years old. It had miraculously been spared the ire of the Japanese occupation, due to its historical significance (A Japanese general famously passed through the gate to conquer the city). It had been rebuilt a few times over the years, but some of the wood, up until this fire, had been from the original.
The man responsible for the arson gave himself up the next day. He was more than seventy years old, and apparently angry because of a property dispute with the government. Also he was pretty clearly not well in the head. He had already been put in jail for a while a few years back, for an unsuccessful arson of the famous Changdeokgung palace. He got the idea that the Namdaemun would be an easy target, because it was so devoid of protection. The news showed very detailed 3d reproductions of how this man entered the gate and exactly where he spread the fuel for the fire.
The next day, people gathered around the burned down structure, crying and paying their respects and --some of them-- making crazy demonstrations. A few days later, the city built a forty foot wall around it, putting it completely out of sight of the commuters.
There was scandal, however. Blame placed on Lee Myongbak, that current President of Korea who had decided to 'open up' access to the Namdaemun gate during his time as mayor of Seoul. And more blame on the fire department for inadequate response --when they did get to the gate, they were overly cautious and refrained from cutting into the structure to get at the source of the fire. Then, one week later, in an irony strike: the fire station had a fire, and there was again an inadequate response. The building hadn't even been equipped with sprinklers --against fire code.
The new president started the year off by making grand plans. There was a road bump when someone in his cabinet announced a plan to teach all subjects in English. This was scaled back to a major plan to 'Teach English in English'. To me and perhaps most people, this sounds like common sense. But the idea met with a lot of opposition: most English teachers here DON'T teach English in English. Many old English teachers teach 'by the book' and speak little to no English in class. And this includes veteran teachers. As part of the 'teach english in english' initiative, Myong Bak hopes to recruit many native speakers with little to no teaching experience --wives and college students -- in the hopes of increasing English education. I guess between the inexperienced native speakers and the experienced non-speakers, I really am not sure who I'd prefer to learn English from (from whom I'd prefer to learn English).
Spring
Springtime has arrived. With it? The yellow sand.
I had heard little of this phenomenon until very recently, when everybody started talking about it. The yellow sand comes in the spring time from deserts in China. It gets in the air in Korea here, causing the sky to turn a different shade of yellow. Full-blown sandstorms occur in the South (pun incidental). But almost everywhere, the sand silently builds up outdoors. And also, inside of people's lungs, or something.
When talking about the yellow sand, no one even tries to hide resentment toward China --terrible, they say. I can't say I'm an expert on this kind of thing myself, but it seems a little bit unfair to chalk it all up to Chinese carelessness. Then again, dangerous yellow sand invisibly flying through the air from a specific source is pretty scary. Good old fashioned pollution is one thing --but the idea of mysterious sand getting in my lungs is somehow more unsettling, somehow.
Spring is for entrance to college! And the workplace! A few weeks ago, I ran across several different letter-jacket garbed orientation groups shouting songs and dipping in and out of various bars. In the same district, there were military uniform-clad lads singing similar songs. Then on another day, I saw three lines of uniformed ladies in front of a branch of Shin-han Bank shouting out something in unison, a large-headed costume caricature of an old businessman in front of them.
A few friends that I've made are in jobhunting mode. One new thing I've learned about here that I hadn't known in Japan was about a specific type of 'study group'. My friend Chloe says that she had to 'try out' for entrance to a study group of about 8 people, from various universities. None of them know each other, but they are all driven by a desire to get a good job in hotel or airline hospitality fields. So as a study group, they all work on their resumes and share knowledge of different companies and positions --highly efficient, and no wasted time on silliness. Chloe said that she had already belonged to a similar study group, but that they had become too close of friends, and were no longer efficient. Which I think is a whole fascinating thing.
So, there is a huge expectation for some job applicants here that they get 'mandatory english skills'. My friend Min told me that it is usual for girls to spend 5 years in college: 4 years of university curriculum, plus one year studying english (either abroad, or at a language school). They need the English score from the TOEFL (a major English test) to apply to jobs or grad school. I don't know whether this phenomenon is exactly true for males, also, because their situation is even more complex.
The mandatory military service is a strange thing. I've mentioned it before, but I will explain a bit more. All men here, at the age of 20, have to sign up for military service. This usually lasts two years. And the guys are usually half way through college at the point that they leave, and return later to finish their curriculum. This imminent service is pretty strange. Those who go might not see their very family and friends much for the whole time. They might get assigned to exercises at the airport, or guarding the mountains to the north, or patrolling the perimeter of the American military base.
Some of my coworkers were influenced heavily by the service. Eunghee told me how he was a big slacker, and that the discipline he learned during military service turned his life around and made him a harder worker. Hyeun had a similar story: he was a slacker at the beginning of college, but he was suddenly inspired by the fear of military service to work very hard and apply for a more prestigious study program in order to exempt him from the service. So there are good things to come from it, though most people I talk to refer to it only as an unfortunate rite of passage; a waste of two years of youth.
It also adds an interesting dynamic to relationship equations: after the boys (now men?) return from service, their female classmates are all two years younger than them. I won't delve into the possible social side effects of this, but one can imagine.
Miscellaneous
The whole 'combining work and home' thing I noticed before has taken new heights. Before I had been put off by how much time some of my coworkers would spend at the lab --it becomes more than there work space, but also where they stay to have fun, watch downloaded movies, etc. This was strange. Then, I paid more attention and realized that the guard for our building never seems to leave. As a matter of fact, he has a little room near the entrance of the building, with a bed and a television. So... he DOESN'T leave. Then there are people in my neighborhood whose houses are so full of commodities ready to be sold that there is barely space for them to sleep. Just rugs rugs and more rugs, and there they are, even late at night, still at work. And on a walk last night, I saw what looked like a fruitstand storefront. Except the transparent glass of the closed store revealed that there was a man inside lying on a mattress in his underwear watching television. Piles of oranges all around him.
Perhaps I take it for granted that people have a refuge from the biggest difficulties in life, but this is not the case all around.
Again, what have I actually done in the past while? Not too much. I think that the return to a familiar Korean routine, and the onset of winter's darkness and laziness (and not to mention, my lack of Korean skills) resulted in a lack of motivation on my part. Also, importantly, many of my friends from the fall were either out of the city or out of the country entirely during this time between semesters. I found myself staying in, going to safe places very often. But intermittently, I would build up the nerve to do as I had used to, and find new places and try to meet people. Okay, I feel a little strange that a lot of my encounters with strangers are had at pubs. I'd never thought that these would be places I would actually go to for company. However, in the absence of classmates, school clubs, or Korean language capabilities, this most timeless of communities now seems like the right tool for the job.
When I DID get up the courage to go out, I was often rewarded with the unexpected:
-Meeting an old British guy at a pub, who had grown up and shipped off to serve in the WW2, and who now did editorial work for the local newspaper and helped his friend run a deli in Seoul.
-Finding a bar that caters to Japanese people --everyone speaks Japanese. I played darts with the owner and some Japanese guys who were in a band. Later at 2am when the bar was closing, the Korean proprietor of a neighboring bar called 'LP', invited me and the bartenders over to his bar/home for a home-cooked meal. He played Nirvana and jazz and then Beethoven.
-Meeting many strangers who have secret English skills. These people are generally some flavor of Christianity, and love to engage in friendly battles over my soul, and I in good humor attempt to take theirs in turn. One of them said he enjoyed our conversation so much he wanted to offer me a job tutoring his high school students for pretty good bucks.
-Wandering. Always wandering, my forever-schtick. I feel so rewarded to see new sites in places close and far. Glimpses of old ladies in their houses making carpets near my apartment;
-Meeting a chinese bartender who is here studying the Korean language, and who works ridiculous hours in addition to attending language classes. We speak broken English, sometimes facilitated by roughly translating Chinese terms into Japanese ones.
-Dancing --once in a club that was terribly crowded, another almost completely empty. Though I didn't manage to talk to anyone (besides strange guys tapping me on the shoulder) being in the vicinity of people and convulsing to random electronic noises in unison was comforting and fulfilling in a way that is hard to describe.
Also:
My coworker Sung-jae was kind enough to invite me to spend the day with his family one day: his wife, baby, and sisters. We played a board game traditionally played on the Chinese new year, which was quite engaging. Then Grandma showed up and I learned how to bow more properly. Then we went to sing Karaoke which is always heart-warming. Later I got to go biking with his sisters by the river, and it felt absolutely amazing. They rent really old bikes there, one of the few places in the city that seems bike-safe.
The following is related only to food, and should maybe be skipped:
The first I will describe is a hotdog encounter. There is a little hotdog shop not too far from my house. One night I found myself craving a hotdog for some nostalgic reason or other. The food image I had in my head was the classic ballpark frank, a pretty fake and horrifying concoction but holding a pleasant familiarity. Well, as I said it was at night and I was hungry, and I'd just been disappointed to find out that my favorite Kebab stand had been closed down. In this time of desperation, I saw the sign that promised 'New York Hotdogs' and I was won over. I went in and ordered one. Three bucks. A few minutes later, I got it in a little hotdog sized paper dish. On top of the dog was a squiggly line of what looked like E-Z-Cheese. The bun was moist. It didn't look that great, but it had to be at least okay! I'd paid good money for it, and I was going to enjoy it! So I took a bite: It was horrible. It tasted exactly like what a priori one would imagine a hotdog tasted like given all the explicit details of its genetic makeup. The fake cheese and soggy bun did not help. No, this did not even have the hint of mildness of the ballpark frank. It was bordering on Spam, in fact, but somehow worse because it was being taken seriously, in its little carton container. I was the only one in the hotdog shop, except for the guy working there. Out of courtesy, I took another bite, only to realize that this may be the worst thing I've eaten ever. I sat in the shop for fifteen minutes reading a book, hiding the half-eaten dog from the worker. After that, I held the hotdog at my side as I exited, hoping he did not see. Down the street I went, cradling this pitiful thing sideways between both hands, like chinese handcuffs. People passed me, curious looks on their faces. At last, I found an open garbage bag in which to deposit the monstrosity. I bought convenience store ramen that night, hopefully teaching myself a lesson of some sort, though I forget exactly what it was. (Sadly a few weeks later I bought another promising-smelling hot dog from a different stand, and threw away that one as well. Lesson learned yet?)
Did you know? Garbage bags are sold here by the city district. Garbage bags and stickers. If trash is not official, it is not picked up. The district has this really odd yellow mascot figure, like the end of a banana with a smiley face on it. So it's curious to look down the street and see piles and piles of bags with this whimsical character.
Okay, I set out one day to find the best burger in town, and learned something important about Korean food. I'd had pretty good, if overpriced, burgers at KrazeBurger, a chain restaurant near my home, but I wanted the potential best. So I looked online, and found some pubs in the foreigner district. I went to a seemingly good one, and ordered myself their best burger. What came looked okay, but there was something wrong with it. Once I finished, I realized the problem: the slice of super-processed cheese stuck in there like some chemical byproduct. Aside from the cheese, it would have been edible and even tasty. But the fake cheese ruins everything. They rely on these horrible slices of cheese often when making western style food --good cheese here is very hard to come by. And unfortunately even mid range restaurants with otherwise quality food will ruin dishes by incorporating this horrible horrible cheese. They put it everywhere --even in traditional Korean food, or Japanese food, or soups (where this piece of unholy cheese floats over the top). So, it's something I watch out for, now.
Still weirding me out:
-The soup with a gigantic fishhead floating in it, eyeballs and everything.
-This creature I see in fish tanks outside of seafood restaurants. My coworker tells me that it's name is the same as the term for a certain piece of a dog's anatomy.
-I found out that some food I had tasted was actually manta ray! I never thought I would check that one off the list of life forms I've consumed... pride or shame?
-I had a cup of warm pupae! They tasted like baked beans!
Fun fact:
I believe I had a vitamin deficiency last month!
Pictures can be found at:
http://www.chookbobberki.110mb.com/CharlieKoreaWeb4/index.html