The South Korea Survival Guide

"Sara, do you have indoor plumbing in South Korea?” “Isn’t it really hot out there all the time?” It’s amazing what some people still don’t seem to understand about South Korea. After reminding my friends back home that Korea is not in Southeast Asia, they have Samsung phones and their parents drive KIAs, I started to wonder more about what people think. A great many of them pictured me as a kind of survivor in a mysterious land, where I have always felt that South Korea has been very welcoming and comfortable. However, it is still a different culture, and I do feel that I’ve had to adjust. While there are no wild animals to fend off, dangerous treks across minefields or a need to survive alone in the wilderness for weeks with limited supplies, there are still a number of strategies to employ in “surviving” South Korean culture today as a foreigner.

Essential Skills

The first key to successfully making it through your sojourn in South Korea is by obtaining and mastering a specific set of daily life skills. Some of these may come to you naturally, but some take practice.

1. Body language

This is the true language of the world. In my first month in Korea, it took me a few weeks to work up the courage to eat out or go shopping alone because I didn’t know how to speak the language. The day I successfully pointed out side dishes to be bagged and weighed from the grocery store counter instead of just opening another can of spicy tuna for breakfast was a milestone event; one that required no talking. Now, in my second year, with a moderate grasp of the language, I have still found that gestures often trump spoken language. The value of body language is also what will keep us from being replaced by English-speaking robots, so use it wisely.

2. Balance

Not all of us are men, and not all the toilets are meant to be sat upon. The rest I leave up to you.

2. Patience

There will be moments when you are asked to attend a meeting or a lunch, and it may seem as though you are forgotten. Chances are you haven’t been forgotten, it’s just that your co-workers feel more comfortable speaking Korean and are happy to see you actively there among them. Take this time to practice meditation.

4. Willpower

Maybe you like very fresh seafood, or perhaps you want a little less intimacy with your food. Whether it be chewing a still-wriggling squid, roasting pig intestines, or pulling tender meat off a hunk of spine, a lot of the food encounters require a little acclimation. I once was asked to point to the fish I wanted, then watch it be scooped from the tank and butchered up for me to eat raw. Two years ago I may have turned up my nose at a fish with bones still left in it.

5. Chopsticks

They’re flat and heavy, but you don’t want to be the only one at the table using a spoon. Embrace the chopsticks. The goal is to be among children and their parents, and seeing the parent point at you, the foreigner with the cutlery skills of a yangban aristocrat, and scold their child. Chopsticks are not without advantages. They are very useful for twirling noodles, picking apart fish or slicing through that extra large leaf of kimchi (using two hands), or skewering fruit. They are also perfect for stirring coffee.

6. Singing

It’s better to sing into a microphone with increased reverberation effect in a small room than into an empty soju bottle a cappella in front of fifty teachers. I’ve done both, and I strongly recommend you consent to the former before being hauled up without time to protest to the later. Maybe you can’t sing. As long as it’s in English, you can sing fine. I’m not sure if you’ve heard Korean “trot” pop music, but there should be nothing frightening you away from singing here. Also, it’s worth noting that you should always pick your own song. If you don’t be prepared to sing the most obscure song you’ve never heard of. I keep an emergency “noraebang song list” saved on my cell phone.

7. Sharing

Some of the best foods in Korea are large dishes meant for sharing. And, unless you plan to eat pork cutlet and fusion spaghetti whenever you eat out, you may need to grab some friends if you plan to eat Korean food. Make your mother proud; she’s been training you to share since you were an infant. I’m not ashamed to admit this, but I have relied on sharing in the past to avoid the things I’d rather not eat mixed in with the rest of the dish; to help adjust to the food. It’s natural, healthy, and recommended that you share your meals so you can continue to build your relationships with others.

Blending in

It’s hard not to stand out in Korea as a foreigner. This does come with a bit of excitement; sometimes feeling like a celebrity, with parents dragging their kids up to say “hello” to you. While living here though, you will most likely want to convince people that you’re not actually a tourist. For most of us it’s impossible to fully blend in without cosmetic surgery, but there are a few ways to clue others in that we live here.

1. Two hands

It’s polite to offer and accept things with two hands, from drinks to money. Although most Koreans will forgive a foreigner for forgetting this, you’ll notice that they almost always appropriate this respectful custom to you. It’s courteous to remember to do the same, both with those familiar to you and strangers. The same goes for bowing; hand-over-hand locked at the thumbs for a highly respectable bow, or even just a brief nod of the head.

2. Order food at hofs

It’s a foreign concept for most westerners to order food at a bar. Whereas in Korea, you sit down at a table and are handed a list of anju, a kind of appetizer list, along with the drink list. When I was new in town, my friends and I thought the whole food thing was mostly optional. This was until I realized it had some adverse effects on our reputation. Even drinking moderately, the people around you may start to worry you are an alcoholic.

3. Bring a toothbrush to work

I once told my students that it was funny for me, when I first came, to see a line of teachers waiting at the sink after lunch. My students replied, “Are Americans dirty?” It’s a good idea to be seen in the toothbrush line.

4. Hiking apparel

For those who really want to look the part. As soon as you start hiking up a mountain in your T-shirt and jeans, you’ll start to feel a little unprepared. Not that I’m ready to trade in my jeans for colorful spandex just yet, but I do confess to buying a name-brand hiking backpack.

Resources

Everyone embarking on survival in a foreign land needs to draw upon their resources. Outside of your EPIK coordinators, tourism offices and embassies, there are many more local options.

1. Co teacher

This is your first local friend; the first person who will help you familiarize yourself with your town and your students. Also, they are probably the only person who will see you properly to the hospital when you fear a miscommunication with your doctors. Your co teacher is also a potential source of homemade kimchi, or sweet potatoes in the morning when they predict, usually correctly, that you have again neglected to eat breakfast.

2. That old woman on your street

She might be collecting your packages for you. She might usher you into her home to eat fresh peaches and shikhye on a hot summer day. Don’t shy away from the opportunity to greet your neighbors.

3. Students

If you ever find yourself in doubt about what to teach, ask your students. My students are my endless source of information about pop culture, fashion, and how to connect to their age group.

4. Face masks and kimchi

You may never need to go to the hospital again.

5. Friends

There is a need to talk once in awhile, when we train ourselves to talk slowly and maintain a long vigil of silence in formal business settings. It’s imperative to make some friends you can talk to rapidly and relax with- especially at your experience level. It’s fun to explore with friends without being led around. Also, don’t forget to make Korean friends. As much as I love my friends from America, many of them probably think the best chicken place is the first one they walked into. Korean friends have a broader range of insight, and also are the best way to fully get in touch with the culture.

6. Saunas and jjimjilbangs

Our bathrooms are small and space-efficient, but sometimes it’s nice to relax in a big bathtub. Plus, there's no better way to start feeling comfortable around a bunch of strangers than finding yourself disrobed among them; it’s perfectly natural and they don’t judge you. The jjimjilbang also offers a locker and a cheap place to sleep when you don’t want to put up money for a hotel or motel.

Status Boosts

Not all aspects of survival are hinged on basic necessity. If you really want to be an active, thriving member of Korean culture, there are certain ways to gain an immediate boost in renown and acceptance.

1. Cell phone

Your cell phone is a big deal. My first year, I opted for the plain free phone because it was still far cooler than the one I had in America. But fate dealt me a new hand when my phone fell out of my pocket into the toilet of a public restroom. True story- that happened. My second choice was heavily influenced by the phone’s theme song I heard on TV every day, and it didn’t take me long to realize that I now possessed the same phone as a good number of my students (much to their delight). Every time my phone was sighted, it provided the perfect motivation for English conversation, and gave me an edge in popularity.

2. KPOP knowledge

I was reluctant at first, but once I finally committed some band names and song catch phrases to memory, it did wonders for my rapport with students. Mostly, they don’t expect you to know KPOP. This is an advantage. The shocked gasps when you can sing a few words or say definitively that “yeah, he’s so handsome!” then you cease to be such a stranger among your students. And any time you can refer to a popular song or singer in your lessons, it grabs their attention.

3. Cyworld

South Korea’s primary online social network. It’s so exclusive, that even the members have trouble trying to figure out how to make you an account. But once you’re in, you have achieved a very respectable status among young Koreans.

4. Immersion into a cultural tradition

You don’t need to dedicate yourself to the studies of Confucius, but it always earns a little bit of extra respect to actively engage in something cultural. I chose to start learning Hapkido, and some of my friends have taken Taekwondo, traditional painting classes, and learned to play the ajaeng, a traditional wooden string instrument. Maybe could just be really good at Yootnori, but it’s definitely worth your while to take up a Korean hobby.

5. Basic language

A lot of people are afraid to talk to you. Although basic English and body language can get you through most encounters, even a small knowledge of the language will help people warm to you. Especially reading Korea’s alphabet, Hangul. Once my fellow teachers learned I could read Korean, it was a kind of entertainment for awhile to point to things and have me read them. It also goes a long way in motivating Koreans to speak your language if you show them you are trying to learn some of theirs.

6. A plant

You may not want to be the only teacher in the school without a plant on their desk. It’s aesthetically pleasing and will draw out some approving nods from the other faculty.

7. Billiards

Four balls and no pockets. If you can learn and show off your prowess with four ball billiards, you may quickly gain a few new friends. The same goes for bowling, tennis, and volleyball. Any interest or ability in sports gives you a connection and something to do with other members of your school faculty; especially drawing out the ones who have limited English ability.

8. Foot volleyball

I used to think the tennis courts near my house were just marked incorrectly, until I finally watched people using them. It’s played in teams, kicking the ball or hitting it with your head. Like other more common sports, this is a great way to spend time with other people and pick up a new curious skill. I’ve been in a few of the smallest farm towns in South Korea that still had a foot volleyball court. To be sure, I’ve never met another foreigner to know about this game, so you can imagine how exciting it would be if you were to participate.

I no longer view South Korea as such a foreign place, and I’m not just here to pass through. I have not only survived, but I have adapted. While you may not be intending to spend a lifetime here, it still is important to accustom yourself during your stay; show the people here that you can learn from them as much as they can from you. You don’t want to be holed up in your apartment clinging to your computer and counting your days to return home. Surviving South Korea quite simply comes down to figuring out what you can do to enjoy yourself the most during your time here.

Not Quite Vietnam

Although I promised the post on Vietnam today, I found myself quite ill after a lunch of giant pork-spine soup . I could do little but lay in bed when I came home and try to keep other foods down periodically. That said, I will use this post instead as a kind of preface to tomorrow's real post on Vietnam.

The week before we left Korea, it finally snowed in Andong (the first real accumulation of the season). Two main things can be said for how the city handled snow: the public buses shut down, and the snowmen sprang up. As for the first, it didn't much affect me because I live close enough to school to walk, but I felt bad for the clusters of people huddling around bus stops, when I didn't see a single bus run for 2 days after the snow hit. Luckily, there are cheap taxis all over the place and I imagine it was a good few days for them.

The snowmen were much more fun. The only people I saw making them were middle aged men, which made me smile. With snow being so infrequent, it isn't a season of play only for the young. Actually, the children were probably all in school for the day, as they continue to take classes through their winter breaks.

I took these on my phone walking home from school:


(This one is modeled after a Korean "yangban," a traditional aristocrat (you can tell by the black hat style. It's hard to tell in this picture with the truck, but the hat also includes the wide brim sticking out on either side).

Although it was sad to leave behind the snow of Andong (and I dearly missed the epic Michigan snow this winter), I definitely looked forward to the warmth of two weeks in Southeast Asia.

The only problem was figuring out how to make the 3+ hour journey to Seoul (with the Han river being frozen up there) from Andong without excessive bulky winter clothing, since each of us only packed a single backpack for the trip. Socks with sandals? Oh yes.

Back in Korea

I'm back from Southeast Asia! With all my pictures now sorted through (over 10 gigs...it took a bit of time) I'll be posting on Vietnam tomorrow, followed by Cambodia and then Thailand.

As for this week (yes, guilty, I've been back since Monday), I made it through my last English camp in Elementary school. I'd say it was bittersweet, but I'm also glad it's over. Unlike the others, where the gender spread was equal and the student count was about 8-10, this week I was gifted with 11 extremely energetic boys and 2 shy girls from the 4th grade.

Like the other two English camps I had at my school this winter, I was alone without a co-teacher. Usually I find the freedom kind of liberating from the routine of the school year, so I don't mind being completely in charge. In this case, teaching was near impossible when the boys refused to go near the girls for circle or team work, and wanted to spend most of the time swiping mop handles from the supply closet and having sword fights.

Even though it was tempting to play movies all week, I resisted (limiting it to one- Home Alone, a popular choice for little boys) and added more race and guessing games to tire them out. Using newly taught vocabulary and words they already knew, a popular game was one where two students faced off with a bell between them. With hands on their heads and backs to the TV screen, I showed the other students pictures to act out, and the opposing students had to hit the bell and say the correct vocab word. I put the girls on separate teams so they could pair up in the face of time-consuming opposition from the boys. Another variation was to use the same team and bell format, but show them scrambled vocabulary words (after, as a warm up for the day, giving them a word worksheet so they were familiar with scrambled words). In this case their teammates weren't acting, they could look at the TV screen this time, it was just a race between the two students to figure out the answer first.

Another invaluable activity I found was Highlights (the magazine for kids) hidden pictures. The kind where a bunch of little pictures are hidden in a big one, with a picture and word key at the bottom. After a search online I found plenty of places to print them out. A great way to get them to speak in English without noticing (because in looking for the pictures they would say the English words when talking to their friends). Very fun and surprisingly challenging. Meanwhile, I could covertly hide the mops.

Now I can rest. I really will miss all those kids, no matter how difficult they are.

How I Spent the Holidays

Happy New Year!

2009 ended with a busy winter camp schedule and 2010 started with a terrible cold that's been dragging on despite the full course of antibiotics that I fed into my system. Luckily the doctor visit and meds were only about $5 American. I have yet to report on my English camps, which have been vastly different from the summer camps, but I'll but that off for a few more days and see if I can't kick this nasty bug.For now, I'll let you know how I celebrated Christmas and New Year so far from home.

Christmas is a National holiday in South Korea, though the weight of it is much lighter compared to America. Nobody buys real evergreen Christmas trees, and the only ones we found in Andong were at grocery stores, and no taller than 5 feet, though I know that there are actual stores for Christmas decor in the larger cities. Many shops downtown played some Christmas tunes and did some decorating, but for the most part it was still pretty tame. Decor seemed to be treated like a kind of trend; an unusual sort of charm. Like something out of a 1950's Christmas magazine issue- garlands and bows, bells and trumpets and doves. Iced Christmas sugar cookies were the most entertaining- about $1 a cookie at the big bakery downtown, but nonexistent elsewhere.

And then there was the tree that popped up downtown:

A towering cone of flashing lights. I love it.

On Christmas Eve we decided to add our own touch of Christmas spirit to Andong at the site of the great tree. Somehow, miraculously, we all organized 20 of the Andong native English teachers to sing Christmas carols. We collected donation to go to two local orphanages (where two of the teachers volunteer), and our total came to upwards of around $700. Some of that did come from private donations prior to the event from people who couldn't make it. We were thrilled!

We had a whole booklet of songs, ranging from the solemn Silent Night, to the more upbeat Jingle Bell Rock. The biggest hits were Rudolph and Jingle Bells, because they have popular Korean equivalents. The most comical was our rendition of Little Drummer Boy, because we couldn't seem to match our ba rum ba bum bums to any consistent speed. But where we lacked in singing talent, we made up for with our sweet hats.

[The penguin hats were a Baskin Robbins promotion. If you bought an ice cream cake, you got a free hat. We ate a lot of ice cream.]

We also had Dave. Dave's Hagwon (after school English academy) had him dress up as Santa, so we suggested he show up to caroling in his suit. Much to our delight, he actually did, and with a big bag of candy that he handed out to Children.

We ended the evening with a trip to the bar to celebrate.

Christmas day was calming. The morning was spent at home. I surprised Scott by cleaning the apartment while he was asleep, and he surprised me with a delicious western-style breakfast in the morning. We opened presents, Skyped our families, then met up with some of our friends for a game of Balderdash and a trip to see Sherlock Holmes.

Po enjoyed his first Christmas too.^^

The days between Christmas and New Years Eve were spent at an overnight English camp out of town (but more on that later), so our celebrating was a bit subdued due to exhaustion. The big trend in Korea is to go to the east coast on New Years Eve and wait to watch the first sunrise of the new year. Since we didn't get back from our camp until about 4 that day, we skipped a trek out to the beach, but our Hapkido instructor took a picture on his phone and sent it to me so I wasn't completely in the dark. Instead, 10 of us went to our friend Erin's apartment for wine and fancy finger foods. We brought frozen cheese sticks, which looked a little sad between the homemade crab rangoon and the brie and crackers plate. We flipped on the TV to catch a countdown, which followed a large KPOP party in Seoul, and ended with the ringing of a large iron bell. Every town in South Korea has a bell to ring on the new year and for other special occasions. No giant ball, but the similarities were surprising. It was also interesting knowing I would get to see the new year in a time zone half a day earlier than everyone back home, who would later see clips on TV from around the world cheering after midnight.

Losing Daylight

Of all the things I knew I'd miss when I left America, I hadn't counted on Daylight Savings Time being on the list. My co-teachers said that Koreans tried using it back in the 80's, but it never caught on so they cut it. I can't imagine why. When I get out of work at 4:40 every day, the sun is already out of sight. By about a quarter after 5, it's black. That means all of my daylight hours are spent at work, and no matter how exhausted I am on Friday night I can't allow myself to sleep too late on Saturday. At least school is ending so I have less to stress about. I already thought of winter as a cold dark season, but it's far darker without that extra hour.

The Ondol

One of the great things about Korea is its floor heating system, call the ondol. Although it's not always standard to have a heater, every apartment will have an ondol. They are also common at restaurants where you sit on the floor. Our apartment has two, for half sections of our floor. Each section has it's own control panel on the wall by our front door. I suppose this would be handy if we slept on the floor, cutting the heating cost so that only the sleeping area would be hot at night.


Ours actually doesn't get that hot, because our building was set up to be energy efficient and environmentally friendly, so it starts storing energy during the day and only gets warm at night. With the windows close, it does help to warm the apartment gradually. As we have a western style bed, we don't have much use for it when we sleep. However, there are other ways to benefit from this system. I've found that laying my clothes for work in the morning out on the floor results in the same joy as wrapping up in a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Also, the space and concrete support needed for the ondol keeps apartments from having those paper-thin barriers between the floors; something I would have loved in college.

Surprise at Lunch

About halfway through lunch today, a little girl sat down across from me and asked "which state are you from?" with perfect pronunciation. Upon recovery from my shock, I replied "Michigan." She smiled and said "Oh! Me too! I'm from Troy." This is how I met Jessica for the first time, and it's a wonder to me that in all the time I've been here we had never spoken before. She is in 2nd grade, and perfectly fluent in Korean and English (with a vocabulary above the average American girl her age, I'm convinced) even though she moved to Korea when she was 3. From the way she talked, I could have sworn she just stepped off the plane yesterday- very impressive. It was astounding to me just to have a full English conversation with a person under 20 for the first time in 8 months.

But for all of her advanced communication, she was still a little girl, so we spent the next fifteen minutes talking about Disney World. We both very much like Splash Mountain and Animal Kingdom, but she recommends the test track at Epcot on my next visit. There is nothing more endearing than a little girl excitedly telling you about a hippopotamus blocking the track of the Animal Kingdom safari ride with a giant piece of meat the size of her hand half sticking out of her mouth. I hope I can run into her every day.

EPIK Conference in Gyeongju

I feel like I went into hibernation this week after making it through last week. Anyway, I'm awake now. This is part 1 of my 2 part four day weekend in Gyeongju (I'll work on the sightseeing half of it tomorrow). Thursday and Friday were spent at an in-service training conference for EPIK.


Thursday morning, Scott and I woke up at 7:25, just 5 minutes before we were meant to leave town. We also hadn't packed. Luckily, when we gathered with our co-teachers and Katie and her co-teacher fifteen minutes later, they were not deterred from first getting breakfast. Korean breakfast isn't anything like a western breakfast, so we had a traditional fare of soup, rice, and kimchi.


We arrived almost an hour late at the hotel after a 3 hour drive, but luckily that starting hour was designated for signing in, and being nearly last meant our name badges were easy to find. I heard a lot of people talking to friends about their awkward small talk or silences with their co-teachers on the drive down. For me it was a five word conversation: "Sara, take a nap" and my response,"OK." Taebun understands me, especially at 7:30am.

Because Scott, Katie and I have already been teaching for a long time, we weren't quite sure what to expect out of this conference. It was mostly for the new EPIK teachers who arrived in September and those of us that had the late orientation back at the end of March. There had already been one just before Scott and I arrived.



The first day ran from 11 to 7:30. Two lectures, a demonstration on co-teaching, and a"Discussion About Co-Teaching Styles and Interpersonal Relationships," which oddly was the only of the four where they split up the Native and Korean teachers into separate rooms. It ended with a fabulous eclectic buffet dinner to satisfy Western and Korean diets. Mostly I devoured raw salmon, which is surprisingly hard to find here.


The second day ran from 7:30 to 2, with two interactive lectures and an open forum. The primary target seemed to be for a newer teaching audience, but it was a nice refresher for me. One of the speakers had been in Korea for eight years, so I couldn't pretend to have her insight, so there was a lot yet to soak in. Particularly using warm up and short transition periods of time to incorporate improv and movement, even within large classes like mine. I also felt very useful at the conference during discussions, because I came with a lot of ideas from experience so far, and was able to pass those along to newer teachers; like making group forming into a game, and planning for classes with mixed degrees of English literacy. Likewise, the newer teachers had some fresh opinions that I could benefit from, which was helpful after doing my own routine for so long.


The target of the training seemed to be directed at better co-teaching, but I was a little surprised because the tables were set up in most of the conference rooms in threes, leaving every other co-teaching pair split up. Scott, and Katie are incredibly lucky in our co-teaching assignments, so this didn't really deter us from doing discussions and activities. However, for those who struggled with their Korean co-teachers, it appeared to me like they could, sadly, segregate themselves quite easily.

My favorite part of the conference was Thursday night, when Scott, Katie and I stayed in to teach our co-teachers how to play Texas Hold'em. We had to improvise, so while the Koreans debated over which flavor of squid jerky and mixed nuts the would buy, the three of us grabbed some beer, some highlighters and a couple packs of toothpicks to turn into poker chips. Back in the hotel room, while Scott went over the basics, Katie and I labored over marking hundreds of toothpicks. This was the result (set 1 of 6):

Of course, into the second hour we had to continue coloring the extra blank ones as the minimum bet raised and chips were traded in. In the end, we had a pretty awesome travel poker chip set.

It was a pretty epic game. They picked it up really fast, and Scott's co teacher Hyeon-beom almost put me out early with his raises before the flop and mythically good hands. But there was a lot of great luck. Somehow the whole thing was bizarrely magical, with rivers like this:

Whenever toothpicks changed hands, we turned it into a battle of the schools. Scott's Dongbu Elementary was stealing my Kilju money, or Katie's Bokju (sorry Katie if I butchered that spelling) Elementary money would change hands between them. Of course, I was responsible for slaughtering Taebun in a face off between us that made him the first to go out.

Although it wasn't officially a part of the conference, the conference gave us the rare opportunity to hang out with our co-teachers. The Korean teachers especially are so busy with extra school projects in addition to managing the ease of our lives here, that it seems so seldom that we get to sit down and have fun outside of the classroom. While most of the foreigners all went out together to the locals bars after the lectures and dinner was over, tempted as we were to join them, it seemed to be more exciting to see our co-teachers corrupted by the forbidden world of gambling. Well, with toothpicks anyway.

The "Right" Way to Walk

South Korea has officially changed its policy on walking. It used to be that people would walk on the left, even though driving is on the right. However, I showed up at school to find this poster all over the school:


The policy has changed, and now everyone is instructed to keep to the right side when walking. And just look how happy everyone is; how green the grass is on this side of the path! Although I've been walking on the right since I got here without much trouble, so it's mostly a formality I think.

Along with the sign, students were given the task of changing all the arrows on the stairs, and to help everyone adjust, 6th grade hall monitors with sashes now direct traffic on each floor in the morning in case of any confusion.

Grapes

With watermelon season fading away, grape season is in full swing in Korea. Every bushel looks perfect and delicious, with large round purple grapes. The first time I tried them, I thought looks were deceiving. They skin was impossible to chew, and the way the inside held together like a slippery mass was enough to make me think I had the misfortune of finding only rancid grapes.


But then we started eating them at school, which is where all of my eating epiphanies happen. I was instructed that for these grapes, you're not supposed to eat the skins. Instead, you squeeze the inside out into your mouth and suck the juice out.


There are two main varieties of grapes, both purple. One is very dark and smaller with seeds, and the inside if slightly more difficult to chew through, but the juice is incredibly sweet and quite often tastes like a very sweet wine. The other kind is a little lighter that the first, and is virtually seedless. They taste a more like the grapes I'm used to, only much larger and juicier. These are a little more expensive, but worth it.

Saturday in Daegu

On Saturday it was decided that we should spend some actual time in Daegu. Scott and I have only been down there to go to Costco, so we teamed up with Andrew, Katie, and Alice who also haven't spent much time there.


Yangnyeongsi Herbal Medicine Market


The guidebook described this street as a place to go for all sorts of strange old remedies, to find antlers, magic mushrooms, and lizard tails. We weren't quite sure what to expect, but I think we all had it in our mind that it would be some dusty backstreet with cauldrons and witches. It was surprising, then, to find that it was a very well organized road with regular store fronts and regular people. There were also traditional clinics on this street, for herbal treatments as well as acupuncture.



Although that's not to say there wasn't oddities to be found for sale. Deer antlers, seahorses, turtle shells, and dried frogs. Andrew tried to ask one shop owner if he had any "secret" items that can't be sold on the regular market, but I think both the translation and the joke were lost on him.

And the smells leaping out of these shops and following us down the street were intoxicating; so many that I couldn't possibly figure them all out. Ginseng, certainly, but also a number of fragrant herbs and wood smells; they all blended together to become something unique and distinctive to the street as a whole.

Museum

We were a little lost out in the street. Apart from the obvious language barrier, I'm not even sure the average Korean would know what all of this stuff was. However, we did find a museum at one end of the street. It appeared to be recently built, with the latest in technology and fresh, clean carpet. It spanned over two floors, the top being for dioramas and videos, mostly, with a few display cases.

Although I'm still not sure what instruction on medicinal properties some of the items on display might offer.

The videos had four language options, and were actually very well done. The latest animation, and perfect English- I was surprised by them. They mostly detailed life and the process of diagnoses in the past, when this was the standard of medical treatment. A lot of the practice is still alive today, with the health benefits in Korean food. They are still using many of the same herbs for cooking; where they originated to prevent and treat ailments, they also happened to be tasty supplements.

The next floor offered a more hands-on experience, ending with a room where we could check our blood pressure and BMI. This floor was devoted to learning about the body from a traditional perspective. I learned the hours of the day that each organ is at its strongest, and what should be done. For example, between 5-7am it is the time for the colon, so that is the best time to have a bowel movement.

In one station, we could figure out which of the four typologies we were (they use Sasang typology, classifying you by elements of your mind and body). I came out as a Soyang type, but I'm not sure how accurate my answers to the questions were because I'm not really sure if I have a "strong waist." It was interesting all the same, and I learned that by being Soyang, beer is very beneficial to my health.

Most of the rest of the day was spent walking around downtown Daegu. We checked out the Kyobo bookstore, which actually has a pretty big English book section: everything from bestsellers, to teen, to a case devoted to Penguin classics. The most interesting perhaps was a screenplay section, where English movie and TV show screenplays were sold as books with both an English and Korean translation on the opposite page.

Free Hugs.

Just when I was starting to get disheartened by the whole H1N1-makes-me-look-suspect-and-untouchable issue, something amazing happened on the streets of Daegu. A small group of university students stood in the middle of downtown with signs reading "FREE HUG." They even grabbed us and pulled us over, we didn't have to go to them. I almost melted with joy; they weren't even wearing surgical masks.

But not all of the hugs of the day were found on the streets...

Dinner and Hookah

There is a restaurant called the "Holy Grill" with a picture of the Holy Grail on the sign, and in going it did indeed feel like coming to the end of a great quest. It is owned by two Canadian guys, and I'm convinced has the best burritos in Korea. Not that I've had many burritos in Korea. The whole place is devoted to the food expats miss so much, and all for a very reasonable price inside a classy place.

After dinner, we went in search of a a hookah bar we'd caught wind of, located next to a bar made from an old bus.

Inside was very dim, but set a relaxing mood by the flickers of lanterns and candlelight. We were seated in a small raised alcove set apart from the main room, cozy and perfect for the five of us.

We ordered a bottle of red wine, which seemed to be the main draw to the place, as I think we were the only people there with a hookah. It was the perfect way to end our time in the city.

Taxi Ride Home

We were slightly mistaken, however, in our methods of returning to Andong. We called a number to get information on the bus times, and a woman speaking perfect English told us that the last bus to Andong was at 9:50. At 9:50 the bus station was very closed, and it seemed a little suspicious when a taxi driver parked outside looked at us and said "Andong?" After some time, it was decided that it was the cheaper option at 80,000 won (plus at 3,000 toll) than all of us finding lodging and morning bus fair.

When we finally piled into a taxi, all five of us, we expected it to be a long hour back home being crushed together as we were. In the end, it took 40 minutes. We hadn't the opportunity of movement until we got home, but as soon as we emerged gasping for air and thankful for the gift of life, we translated on our phones what 140-160km translated to in mph. We knew it was fast, as the speed limit was posted at 100, and his GPS speedometer would give protesting beeps every time he crossed 160. The man had been going 90-99 miles per hour the entire way home.

But, since my mother is probably reading this in horror, I'll leave off with a photo of relaxing ginseng.

Brittle Teeth or Kimchi of Steel?

Today during lunch, I had a piece of one of my back teeth suddenly break off. A small but sizeable wedge- so now I can say that I've quite literally had a cavity in my tooth. Now, I'll be honest here, once the discovery of the detachment had been made, I wasn't sure if I felt more concerned about needing to go to the dentist, or delighted that I wouldn't have to eat the octopus soup and little minnows side dish. Although maybe it's an unfair comparison, because I've spent so much time getting fillings growing up; the hovering eyes of the dentist is much less of a concern than the beady eyes of dead dried fish.

Once the dentist was assured that I was not infected with the H1N1 virus because I've lived here for 6 months, we got down to business. Sitting there figuring out what was wrong with my teeth was a little frightening. The dentist took a look at my teeth, and while he was explaining the problem to Taebun he kept playing with a little model set of teeth in his hands. He kept pulling out one of the teeth from the model and putting it back, and Taebun kept saying "ohh" in a manner most foreboding. After 3 minutes I had worked up quite a sweat thinking he was going to need to pull the whole thing out. But really I just needed a filling because I had a pretty bad spot of decay.

The process was the same that I was used to, minus the happy gas. Quick and painless, except that I waved off the Novacane shot. The dentist was trying to get me to put in a gold crown, which would have been 250,000 won because it's uncovered by insurance, so I opted for the regular silver filling which was a much nicer price. The whole unscheduled visit cost me 8,600 won, about $7.

Swine Flu Results in One Small Victory

Of course I'm not going to start praising Swine flu, or H1N1, but in the middle of all of the fear I did want to report one positive outcome. I suppose you hope the fallout from any war will result in something positive to make the suffering mean something.

When I came to South Korea, in the middle of the joy and perfection I found there was one problem: soap. For almost five months, my school almost never had soap in the bathrooms. There was soap in the lunch room, but not the bathrooms. Not just my school, but all schools seemed to feel the same way. The students simply didn't wash their hands. Which presented a problem for the foreign teacher- with students always wanting a hello and a handshake. This was the same issue for public bathrooms. I never left the house without my own hand sanitizer. I found this odd in a country where the biggest concern is personal health, which you can see in their healthy diets, motivation to exercise daily, and practically flawless system of health care.

However, since H1N1 became an issue I don't think I've gone anywhere without seeing soap. Once a bar runs out in my school bathrooms, a new one replaces it. Teachers have stocked up on hand sanitizer. I can dole out handshakes and high fives to my students with extra gusto. Dunkin Donuts now has an automatic hand sanitizer dispenser at the checkout counter. Even the bars I frequent, with bathrooms to rival American truck stops, have adopted the new soap policy. It's a delightful utopia of sanitation.

Now, now, I can say South Korea is perfect for me.

My New Toy

Korea really has awesome electronics. It's called a Samsung "Pebble."

My iPod finally gave out after a good long run, so I needed to find a replacement MP3 player. I was drawn in to the Pebble among a sea of rectangular MP3 players at one of our electronics stores, as a lifelong collector of stones and oddities. Although they come in a variety of shiny colors, most of which are chrome-like, I chose the one that looked like polished marble.

At 2GB, it only cost me 63,000 won- about $50. It charges completely through a small USB attachment that hooks into the headphone jack, so there's no cords to worry about. They told me the charge lasts about 13 hours. Perhaps the best thing about it is that it's not synced to any program, like itunes. It's simply a drag and drop folder, and its ready to go. It's very simple, but very unique. And if this one ever stops working down the road, it would make a great skipping stone.

From Busan to Hahoe Village: My Parents in Korea

With both of my parents come and gone from Korea, I'm now beginning to slip back into my regular daily lifestyle. I'm back to school, with brain clicked back into teacher-mode. Although now my days are less busy and I can return to my somewhat neglected blog, I really miss having my parents here. It was exciting being able to show them around my new country, and sharing Korea with my parents made me feel closer to it as a way of life, not someplace fully separate from everything I left in America.

My mom came two weeks before my dad, right at the start of the English camp at my school. Her first glimpse of my life probably couldn't have been a very exciting one from a touring perspective, between jet lag and my franticness in planning my lessons, but having her see my life and teaching gave me an extra boost of pride in what I do. The next week you already know- we went to Jeju and had more of a vacation experience.

As soon as our flight landed back in Daegu from Jeju on that Friday, mom and I set off on a bus to Busan to get my dad the following day. Well, that was the plan until mom remembered that his flight came in Sunday and not Saturday, so we wound up with an extra day in Busan.

Being a port town, and a very large one, one of the first images going in is a fascinating number of large shipping containers stacked for what feels like miles. Not knowing what to expect, our arrival at the bus station gave us a fair bit of warning, as we were handed an English local paper with a headline about making Busan more foreigner friendly. Two swindling cab drivers put a small crack in my pure good opinion about Korean hospitality, the first and only two times I've encountered this in over five months, but it's only one city. Plus, the charms of Busan far outweighed the drawbacks so I would like to go back again sometime.

Mom and I had a lot of fun shopping around the city, which we didn't have that much time to do when we were in Seoul, and I was able to eat at American restaurants for the first time in months. We also ventured out to Gwangalli beach after catching wind that a Proleague Starcraft tournament was taking place there and I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Busan was similar to Seoul, but smaller and easier to get around on foot. Although I have the navigation of Seoul's subway system down easily because of the nation-wide use of the T-Money scan card for transport, Busan uses a local system so it's not as tourist-friendly. However, it forced us to walk around and soak in more of the city instead of just leaping on a subway.

On one such occasion, mom and I found ourselves wandering down a back ally and came across a middle-aged man seated with a half watermelon and a large knife. Between chews and his otherwise serious disposition, his immediate reaction was to cut off two big chunks and offer them to us as we passed by. So you might say that the regular locals left a better taste in our mouths than the taxis in the end.

Dad seemed to like Busan too, but I think his enjoyment was derived from a different source than shopping and walking around...

Wolyeonggyo Bridge

One of our first things to do as a family was head over to the moonlight bridge, which was the first site outside of downtown and my school that I saw in Andong so it seemed fitting. Although, Mom and I had been here before Dad came, having taken a very indirect route through the small mountain behind Scott's school that would, theoretically, lead to the bridge. It ended in us getting lost and traversing through overgrowth and spider webs, weaving around burial mounds (though careful not to disturb them by getting too close) along the mountainside, and eventually coming out next to a very active-sounding house. We had to creep through their property and find our way down to the road near the bridge from there, and after that figured the best way to come this next time would be through the main road.

Although the last time I was there the cherry blossoms were blooming, I almost preferred the look of it on this visit because everything was more green and vibrant. The fall and winter should be stunning too, I think.

After crossing over the bridge we checked out the cultural museum, which is split between the museum itself with artifacts and displays modeling the customs of Korea and Andong itself, and a number of historic buildings outside of the museum that trail up the hill nearby- all moved to that location due to the construction of the dam to escape being buried under the river.

Chung Yang San

Then the mountain. Chung Yang San. I recall after the first time I went there with my school, coming home and saying to Scott that "I have just been to the most beautiful place that we'll never go see, because I'm not climbing up there again." But we certainly did.

Both me and my parents and Scott and his set out. The plan was to find, to the best of my knowledge, the original pathway up the mountain that would lead first to the temple and then to the sky bridge. We found a map that showed us three possible entrances. Only the two furthest from the town where the bus dropped us off led to the temple, and since I spent my first trip there sleeping in the back of a teacher's car and trying not to drool all over one of my co-teachers' shoulders, it came down to a 50-50 guess. Naturally, I selected the wrong one of the two, which turned out to be a very steep driving path for cars up to the temple, and generally used only to walk down. Luckily, the rain held out until we made it to the temple for shelter.

Not having checked the weather beforehand, we were a little ill-prepared the rain, but a vendor counter under the shelter of a raised pavilion was stocked with rain ponchos so we all remained in good spirits.

While we were waiting, the temple supplied all of us taking cover under the pavilion with a tray piled high with dokk (soft rice cakes), these covered in a plain white powder or a peanut powder.

A short distance from our shelter was the large shared temple water basin for getting a drink, so with food and water and great company, it was a welcome break from climbing and the perfect way to experience the communal atmosphere of the temple.

Now, on my first visit, I recall huffing along behind the energetic Mrs. Shim, with serious doubts about my survival. This time I had apparently gained a great deal of stamina, because from my place in front of the line looking back, I could see the same echos of slow-down-or-I'll-consider-pushing-you-off-this-mountain in the eyes of our families.

Actually all of us did very well, and it seemed the strain of climbing wasn't as bad as I'd envisioned. If my parents were having a hard time I would never have guessed, because they were cheerful the whole time. Even though the rain came and went in bursts, added on to the climb itself. It was the first time I'd done anything quite like it with my parents. It seemed everyone handled it much more adeptly that I did on my first trip.

We finally made it to the sky bridge. Because of the rain, a thick mist hung around the mountain peaks, billowing in and out of the cables of the bridge as the rain began to pick up again. Before crossing, however, there was a matter of business to attend to for Dad's fellows back in Ohio...

("O" "H" "I" "O" the signature group stance of the OSU fan around the globe)

Crossing the bridge was the most fun of the entire journey up. It was ironic that I should be up there with my mom, both having said that I wasn't planning to go back, and having touched on in my blog that my mother would probably have a heart attack if she had been there.

Well cross it she did, and with her first step she cried out, to her horror, "It moves!" Once that had been accepted, a new discovery was made: halfway across the bridge, a glass bottom had been installed for about a ten step span. I'll leave her to speak for herself on that one.

With a last look back as the mist began to to devour the bridge, I think my mom made her peace with the thing.

I hadn't known the path beyond the bridge, which turned out to be longer (about 7km) and far steeper than the path up. This time, there wasn't a temple to stop at- we had planned for this route back because the entrance to it was the closest to the village.

Where my legs felt pretty normal the whole way up the mountain, they felt beaten and betrayed the whole way down. We must have been a very interesting sight making our way down that path. We all seemed to have a different approach. At any given time or terrain, one of us might be walking backward, forward, sideways, in a serpentine path, or clinging to another for support.

Treacherous as it was, there was no denying the beauty of the place, especially in those rare moments where the path would even out for a few feet or there would be a break in the treeline (though glimpses outside of the tree cover made us feel like we hadn't gotten any farther down, far us as we were for a long time).

We walked away victorious, and this time I can change my tune a bit and say I'd love to go back.

After braving the mountain, we settled on tamer exploration the next day and kept our discoveries within the city of Andong. Unbenownst to me for the last five months, Andong has had an underground museum on the edge of our park, in what I had overlooked as another pavilion.

The whole place hinges on technology- without historical artifacts, but is very cool and hands on. Walking in, we registered at a computer and were given ID cards that were synced with our names and email addresses. Certain areas involved scanning the badge so the computer could greet you by name, or send a file to your email address. One station was an interactive computer "print block." After picking a traditional woodblock picture or perhaps an old scroll or proverb, then picking an ink color, we had to take up a pad to dab the screen so that it "applied ink" to the print block, then once finished it stamped it out and sent it to our emails.

Other stations included a large step-activated map on the floor to zoom in and out of Andong's historic places, a stage to learn and project yourself into the Andong mask dances, a small electronic encyclopedia of artifacts that could be flipped through using only your outstretched hand in the air as a mouse through motion sensors, and even a DDR style game where your victory ensured a princess' safe passage to freedom across a river on the backs of Andong citizens.

One of my favorite things to do with my parents was eat. One of the best parts of Korea is the food, for sure. Dad I wasn't worried about, knowing his enjoyment of spicy foods, and that he'll try everything at least once. Initially I was worried about my mom, knowing her picky style of eating that leaves out onions and peppers, and Korean food is mostly doused with a healthy supply of red pepper paste. Indeed, she had planned to hate it too, and brought with her a stock of chocolate chip granola bars and a few sticks of beef jerky to give her the protein to survive the month. Both of us were mistaken. She loved the food, especially the spiciest food Andong has to offer- their specialty, Jim dok (very spicy marinated chicken with noodles and vegetables). Happily, when she left she gave me over half a box of uneaten granola bars.

Hahoe Village

It's funny, Andong's main attraction is Hahoe villiage, a traditional preserved folk villiage just outside of the main city, but in five months it's about the only big Andong cultural site I hadn't seen. However, this made it all the more enjoyable to experience something new for the first time with my parents.

Hahoe rests on a penninsula-shaped curve of land along the Nakdong river, the same river that flows down through the Andong dam and past my house. It's been very fortunate as well, in that it wasn't wiped out like many such places during the Korean war, so it preserves the feel for the old way of life.

Hahoe isn't a relic town on display, however. It's still an active community where people live their lives, and in that sense it feels both truely authentic and slightly unsettling. I wasn't sure, peering through a gate to a house courtyard, if I should wander in to get a closer look, or if it would be bothersome.

But the sense of that concern faded quite quickly after a bit of wandering and taking it in. The people living there are clearly very accustomed to visitors, as people from around the country come every every day, especially on weekends. Informational boards in Korean and English mark the more famous houses, so the village is very accomodating and very proud of their legacy.

As the villiage curves along the river, so does the whole town seem to curve and flow in everything from the paths to the roofs. There was no one plan or structure to the whole of the place, and manuvering through wide and narrow roadways, in and out of courtyards, it lost the sense of rigidity modern towns adopt in their network design.

The most stunning sight of Hahoe, to me, is a 600 year old zelkova tree tucked away down a single path in a central part of the village, home to a fertility goddess. With branches the size of tree trunks, it appeared to be a cluster of several trees in passing on the other side of the wall. All around it are lengths of rope, twisted with paper messages and wishes. Mom wrote down a message requesting grandchildren. I wrote a message counteracting that and tied it around hers. That was close.

It was the perfect way to close out the week with both of my parents, in a very quite and relaxing place where we could soak in Korea's culture and walk together without the feeling rushed or burdened by time.

Just a short ways outside of the village is a mask museum (surrounded by countless vendors and plenty of good food), which was a great escape from the heat. I had thought, perhaps, the museum would be devoted to the Hahoe masks alone, but it's split into three parts: Korea, Asia, and World masks. I hadn't quite known the changing degree of masks throughout Korea, for the Hahoe masks are so iconic that I had just assumed that they were the most recognized style.

Though we did indeed get a closer look at the Hahoe mask tradition, we also got to see the differences from region to region- which couldn't have been more different.

Hahoe masks were mostly made from wood, but others employed a wide range of other materials and fibers such as paper, hair, plant material, and gourds.

Farewell to Father

After everything, it was back to Busan with us for a goodbye to both my dad and Scott's parents, who ironically ended up on the same Northwest flight just a few rows apart. We didn't waste the day on travel alone though, and ended the trip with nore bang!

Dosan Seowon

My mom stayed for a few extra days, and although most of them were spent getting back into the routine that the end of summer demanded I reaclumate to, my mom and I did swing out to Dosan Seowon on one of the days. I had wanted to take her there, knowing her interest in Confucian culture.

This time the academy was undergoing a bit of restoration on a few buildings, but even the construction beams didn't betray the lines that the structures set out to achieve; they seemed to fit well together and didn't appear too invasive.

Mom seemed to fit well here, and was very serene, like it was perfectly her element. Much more suited to her than treacherous bridges, anyway.

I miss them both.