Monday, November 15, 2010
The Korean Government
I love it when they do this! ... but I really don't understand. From the caption for the last photo: "Observers of Korean politics say the nation's lawmakers would rather fight than switch votes. Says Andy Jackson, a political columnist for the Korea Times, 'The attitude is that if you're not fighting, you're not trying.'"
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Bartering
Bartering, bargaining, haggling, negotiating... whatever you want to call it, it makes me exceedingly nervous, especially in a situation where I don't actually speak the language I'm bartering in. I'm afraid I'll come across as either being ignorant or unfair, or else I'll worry that I'm getting ripped off.
For the most part, Canadians are really no good at this skill. With a few notable exceptions (namely my friend Maighan, who can secure amazing deals from pretty much anyone - "just ask for a deal," she says, when asked for advice, "just ask - lots of people will give you one!"), the thought of negotiating for an item leaves me tense and fearful.
Fortunately, I recently ran across this post from the Globe and Mail. It's focused on bartering in Beijing, but I think a lot of these skills are transferable from one country to another.
For the most part, Canadians are really no good at this skill. With a few notable exceptions (namely my friend Maighan, who can secure amazing deals from pretty much anyone - "just ask for a deal," she says, when asked for advice, "just ask - lots of people will give you one!"), the thought of negotiating for an item leaves me tense and fearful.
Fortunately, I recently ran across this post from the Globe and Mail. It's focused on bartering in Beijing, but I think a lot of these skills are transferable from one country to another.
A List of Blogs I'll Read Someday
The link below is more of a bookmark for me than anyone else, seeing as how (right now, at least) I'm the only one who ever looks at this blog. At some point in the future, when I have time, I'll make a point of reading through some of these other Korea-related blogs, written by the other 50% of the population. Thanks, Chris in South Korea for this one!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Countdown to Korea
Matthew and I have made up our minds - Korea, we're coming back! We'll be there before September 1st of 2011.
During our time away from Korea, a lot has changed, as I explored in the previous post. Not all has been negative - a lot of good has happened, too. Specifically, the birth of our daughter, and the fact that when I return to Korea, I will have acquired significantly more experience as a professional English instructor. Added to that is the likely chance that I will be able to take a year to two years leave of absence from teaching at the U of S without losing my permanent status as a university employee! (I love my union!) Another bonus is that there is now a Jewish presence in Korea (Chabad, I knew you'd make it there sooner or later!).
Thus, the countdown has begun, and we are beginning the preparations to relocate our family halfway around the world in less than a year. When we return next fall, our son will be seven and our daughter will be three and a half - still young enough to be able to pick up a second language rather quickly!
During our time away from Korea, a lot has changed, as I explored in the previous post. Not all has been negative - a lot of good has happened, too. Specifically, the birth of our daughter, and the fact that when I return to Korea, I will have acquired significantly more experience as a professional English instructor. Added to that is the likely chance that I will be able to take a year to two years leave of absence from teaching at the U of S without losing my permanent status as a university employee! (I love my union!) Another bonus is that there is now a Jewish presence in Korea (Chabad, I knew you'd make it there sooner or later!).
Thus, the countdown has begun, and we are beginning the preparations to relocate our family halfway around the world in less than a year. When we return next fall, our son will be seven and our daughter will be three and a half - still young enough to be able to pick up a second language rather quickly!
Saturday, July 24, 2010
The Resurrection of Kimchi-Lovin' Canucks
After more than a few years, I have decided to disinter this blog from its graveyard, if only in order to provide the anonymous world of the internet with my musings on anything that catches my interest. For the most part, I'll try to keep it Korea-related, although the connection may seem tenuous at best, if not entirely non-existent on other occasions.
The exhumation of Kimchi Lovin' Canucks, reborn with a new moniker, "Will Kill for Kalbi", is mostly a result of more than three years, three years of repatriation to Canada. Back here, Korea seems but a faint memory, distantly fading, becoming ever-more irrelevant and imbued with a dream-like quality of "did it ever even really happen?"
We spent eighteen months living in one of the many satellite cities that surround Seoul. To this day, if I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can recall the faces of the shopkeepers lining the street where we used to live, where we passed by daily, but these memories become fainter day by day, month by month. The smells, the tastes, and the sounds fade with time. Our friends here have long ago started to roll their eyes and share glances with each other when either Matt or I begin any sentence with, "Didja know that in Korea...".
Since we have been back, much has changed, as much tends to do when given the time and opportunity. We returned to Canada in the early spring of 2007 with our nearly-three year old little boy and the unwavering intention of heading back to Korea in the fall of the same year. But such was not to be at that time. Shortly after Matt and I spent a wild and wonderful two weeks in Europe that spring, we realized that we were to become parents for a second time around. With no jobs, no home and a brand-new baby on the way, we tried to find a new path in the whirlwind of change, exuberant joy and bitter disappointment.
It has been hard. It has been very hard.
People who have suffered from culture shock often claim that the worst part is the return to their home country. If they have been able to live abroad successfully and have been able to find a place for themselves in the new country, the return can be shattering. Such was our situation.
Newly-pregnant, having just returned to Canada from our own lives in Korea, and suddenly surrounded by the suffocating good-will and unexpected expectations of our extended family caused some major psychological fallout and ruptures in the fabric of our family. We very nearly didn't make it this far together. Many times over the past three years we have nearly given up on ourselves and our dreams for our own kind of life.
I could never say I would do it differently, though, because I think, all in all, it will make us stronger in the end. And, most importantly, we have been blessed with a healthy, beautiful, amazing daughter, who will be three in December of this year.
And she loves bibimbap (sans gochuchang, of course).
The exhumation of Kimchi Lovin' Canucks, reborn with a new moniker, "Will Kill for Kalbi", is mostly a result of more than three years, three years of repatriation to Canada. Back here, Korea seems but a faint memory, distantly fading, becoming ever-more irrelevant and imbued with a dream-like quality of "did it ever even really happen?"
We spent eighteen months living in one of the many satellite cities that surround Seoul. To this day, if I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can recall the faces of the shopkeepers lining the street where we used to live, where we passed by daily, but these memories become fainter day by day, month by month. The smells, the tastes, and the sounds fade with time. Our friends here have long ago started to roll their eyes and share glances with each other when either Matt or I begin any sentence with, "Didja know that in Korea...".
Since we have been back, much has changed, as much tends to do when given the time and opportunity. We returned to Canada in the early spring of 2007 with our nearly-three year old little boy and the unwavering intention of heading back to Korea in the fall of the same year. But such was not to be at that time. Shortly after Matt and I spent a wild and wonderful two weeks in Europe that spring, we realized that we were to become parents for a second time around. With no jobs, no home and a brand-new baby on the way, we tried to find a new path in the whirlwind of change, exuberant joy and bitter disappointment.
It has been hard. It has been very hard.
People who have suffered from culture shock often claim that the worst part is the return to their home country. If they have been able to live abroad successfully and have been able to find a place for themselves in the new country, the return can be shattering. Such was our situation.
Newly-pregnant, having just returned to Canada from our own lives in Korea, and suddenly surrounded by the suffocating good-will and unexpected expectations of our extended family caused some major psychological fallout and ruptures in the fabric of our family. We very nearly didn't make it this far together. Many times over the past three years we have nearly given up on ourselves and our dreams for our own kind of life.
I could never say I would do it differently, though, because I think, all in all, it will make us stronger in the end. And, most importantly, we have been blessed with a healthy, beautiful, amazing daughter, who will be three in December of this year.
And she loves bibimbap (sans gochuchang, of course).
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Until next time...
On Friday, we shipped home two boxes (which we'll see again sometime at the end of April), and went to the tax office to apply for our refunds. Yesterday, we cleaned out all our kitchen cupboards and our fridge. Tonight, we have filled two suitcases with clothes and miscellaneous items. Tomorrow our Internet will be disconnected, and more will be packed. We are in the throes of dismantling.
All that we do, all that has become so much a part of our daily routine over the past year, we are now acutely aware of, noticing tiny details and realizing that it may be for the last time. Last night, we ate spicy tofu for what was the final time (I'm sure our stomach linings, if they could talk, would sincerely express their gratitude).
There are so many experiences we've had, so many things we've seen and all we've learned about our surroundings and about ourselves. We will be sad to go. We want to come back. We miss it already.
The following, a brief list of all different memories, good and bad, that we'll carry with us, each of which we could easily write a blog entry about....the people, so contradictory in their combination of warmth and aggressiveness, subtlety and painful bluntness, their love of children, the tendency of middle-aged men to dress in expensive hiking gear for a 15-minute climb, just as an excuse to knock back some whiskey (hiking-brand) with their friends...crazy taxis (some with TVs installed in the dashboards so the drivers can "watch their stories" at red lights, or green lights, or while driving madly down an 18-lane freeway) that you exit with a sigh of relief and a greater appreciation for life.....Having had a chance to be in Korea during the World Cup last June, finding ourselves swept up in the unbridled enthusiasm of 48 million people, watching the Red Devils play Togo on a giant outdoor TV, sandwiched between the road and Lotte Mart, (ah, Lotte Mart, how we'll miss your free samples, your raucous Sunday-evening atmosphere, the employees all hawking their wares, giving you little discouts here and there if you bargain for it, or if you have a cute white baby, all summed up so well by Mom when she visited for the first time: "Why is everybody shouting at each other?!")...but we digress.... back to World Cup soccer.... waking up at 6 am from the cheers of your entire apartment block, from the entire neighborhood, many people congregated outside watching the aforementioned outdoor TV all watching the game against France that started at 4 am local time......what else.... did we mention spicy tofu? How about bulgogi (literally means "fire meat", though it's not at all spicy), kimpap from the 24-hour diner down the street, Kimpap Changuk, made by our favorite lady who always knows to make our chamchi (tuna) kimpap with "hame bbego" (no spam), while she throws in some extra egg strips, stuffing the delicious rolls so full of rice and veggies that sometimes they split open. (Dear lord, there's a lot to remember, and it's already 1:30 am). Our jobs teaching "Eengrishee" to children, seeing them over the past year grow taller as they learned to speak better English, introducing them to Mr. Bean and loving their laughter and joy that resulted, hearing them awkwardly stumble through their oral presentations and remembering my own in French class and the misery it caused, the "snack parties" we'd have at the end of terms, and how they'd so willingly share their snacks with the teacher and with other unfortunate kids who forgot to bring anything for themselves, the discussions that sometimes happened spontaneously, allowing me to throw my lesson plan for the class out the window and talk instead about ghosts or Morocco or their personal favorite, how they have injured themselves... and the bad students, the ones who have no fear of authority or are completely unresponsive to discipline, constantly disruptive in class, swearing in Korean and not thinking we understand, etc... Certain students, bith good and bad, come to mind... Geun Woo the 12 year old autistic kid (the one the school forgot to tell me was autistic), brilliant in math but falling to the floor in a screaming/kicking/crying fit whenever someone touched his notebook cover, Hye Su and her ability to be completely distracted by anything, only wanting to sit and draw dragons, Sang Jun, the devil incarnate, another sweet girl (I don't know her real name), who was first Rudy, then Neutron and now Ham, who ate Bugles off her fingertips during our snack party yesterday, the manager's son, Tae Young who "hates Buddha because he's the enemy of Jesus", Mickey, with her fuzzy hair, who makes me origami boxes, Su Hwan, who threatened to disembowel Matt after he threw out the kid's stupid sausage snacks, Teft with his constantly too-small pants, always in a world of his own but one of the funniest kids I've met, and his little brother Spiderman, whose eyes are always shining with mischevious thoughts, the M6 202 class, who has dubbed Matt "SuperTeacher"... etc.... our co-worker and friend Lorena from San Francisco, whom Joe adores and whom we always manage to chase out of our house showering her with desserts she doesn't want (you shoulda taken that Krispy Kreme when you had the chance, "Alena"!!)...there's so much...the thoughts and the memories don't stop...I'm just going to continue in streamofconsciousness-style... riding the subway, standing up, falling asleep, falling asleep standing up on the subway (nothing could be more Korean), Itaewon, el Masry's Egyptian restaurant, bartering with shopkeepers for discounts, the 9502 bus, the constant spitting and horking on the street that I am so accustomed to I don't even hear anymore, the pollution, the Yellow Dust that chokes you and makes your eyes sting and your lungs ache, the constant unceasing buzz of chatter that I simply love not being able to understand, that now when I randomly happen to hear a conversation in English between strangers, I can't help but listen (it's very distracting), the gum-popping ajummas that drive me up the wall, the spicy instant noodles with a slice of processed cheese, spending half our paycheck at Starbucks (damn them and their good coffee!!!), Joe's playrooms at Lotte Mart, Emart, and New Core...how people walk, meandering this way and that, and so easily distracted ("Look!! That dog has a puffy tail! Come here, Puff!!"), following whatever fancy catches their attention (the other day, we saw a pedestrian on a cellphone walk backwards into the path of an oncoming bus - he was OK), the incredible warmth and passion that people are not generally afraid to express, their incredible depth and sincerity, how much they love Joe (all children in general, actually)...Emo and her family, Noona, Hyung-ah, and Ajeoshi, how lucky we have been to find her, this past year she has cared so well for Joe while we are at work, and even though we can't speak the same language, we can communicate remarkably well, learning how to make kimchi and mandu from her, eating dinner with her and her family, making spaghetti sauce for them... from her Joe has learned to speak a second language, and has also become a part of her family, as photos of him adorn their walls and the older brother has been allowed to miss his evening academy classes this week in order to spend more time with Joe....
Korea's great.
There's far too much to write about in a single blog entry. It could easily become a book. I guess the important thing to say is how much we've loved our experience living in Korea, and how much we're already looking forward to returning here in the fall. That said, we're also very excited to be coming home to Saskatoon, to see our family and friends, (but mainly Ida, the most delightful dog ever).
We'll see you all very soon.
All that we do, all that has become so much a part of our daily routine over the past year, we are now acutely aware of, noticing tiny details and realizing that it may be for the last time. Last night, we ate spicy tofu for what was the final time (I'm sure our stomach linings, if they could talk, would sincerely express their gratitude).
There are so many experiences we've had, so many things we've seen and all we've learned about our surroundings and about ourselves. We will be sad to go. We want to come back. We miss it already.
The following, a brief list of all different memories, good and bad, that we'll carry with us, each of which we could easily write a blog entry about....the people, so contradictory in their combination of warmth and aggressiveness, subtlety and painful bluntness, their love of children, the tendency of middle-aged men to dress in expensive hiking gear for a 15-minute climb, just as an excuse to knock back some whiskey (hiking-brand) with their friends...crazy taxis (some with TVs installed in the dashboards so the drivers can "watch their stories" at red lights, or green lights, or while driving madly down an 18-lane freeway) that you exit with a sigh of relief and a greater appreciation for life.....Having had a chance to be in Korea during the World Cup last June, finding ourselves swept up in the unbridled enthusiasm of 48 million people, watching the Red Devils play Togo on a giant outdoor TV, sandwiched between the road and Lotte Mart, (ah, Lotte Mart, how we'll miss your free samples, your raucous Sunday-evening atmosphere, the employees all hawking their wares, giving you little discouts here and there if you bargain for it, or if you have a cute white baby, all summed up so well by Mom when she visited for the first time: "Why is everybody shouting at each other?!")...but we digress.... back to World Cup soccer.... waking up at 6 am from the cheers of your entire apartment block, from the entire neighborhood, many people congregated outside watching the aforementioned outdoor TV all watching the game against France that started at 4 am local time......what else.... did we mention spicy tofu? How about bulgogi (literally means "fire meat", though it's not at all spicy), kimpap from the 24-hour diner down the street, Kimpap Changuk, made by our favorite lady who always knows to make our chamchi (tuna) kimpap with "hame bbego" (no spam), while she throws in some extra egg strips, stuffing the delicious rolls so full of rice and veggies that sometimes they split open. (Dear lord, there's a lot to remember, and it's already 1:30 am). Our jobs teaching "Eengrishee" to children, seeing them over the past year grow taller as they learned to speak better English, introducing them to Mr. Bean and loving their laughter and joy that resulted, hearing them awkwardly stumble through their oral presentations and remembering my own in French class and the misery it caused, the "snack parties" we'd have at the end of terms, and how they'd so willingly share their snacks with the teacher and with other unfortunate kids who forgot to bring anything for themselves, the discussions that sometimes happened spontaneously, allowing me to throw my lesson plan for the class out the window and talk instead about ghosts or Morocco or their personal favorite, how they have injured themselves... and the bad students, the ones who have no fear of authority or are completely unresponsive to discipline, constantly disruptive in class, swearing in Korean and not thinking we understand, etc... Certain students, bith good and bad, come to mind... Geun Woo the 12 year old autistic kid (the one the school forgot to tell me was autistic), brilliant in math but falling to the floor in a screaming/kicking/crying fit whenever someone touched his notebook cover, Hye Su and her ability to be completely distracted by anything, only wanting to sit and draw dragons, Sang Jun, the devil incarnate, another sweet girl (I don't know her real name), who was first Rudy, then Neutron and now Ham, who ate Bugles off her fingertips during our snack party yesterday, the manager's son, Tae Young who "hates Buddha because he's the enemy of Jesus", Mickey, with her fuzzy hair, who makes me origami boxes, Su Hwan, who threatened to disembowel Matt after he threw out the kid's stupid sausage snacks, Teft with his constantly too-small pants, always in a world of his own but one of the funniest kids I've met, and his little brother Spiderman, whose eyes are always shining with mischevious thoughts, the M6 202 class, who has dubbed Matt "SuperTeacher"... etc.... our co-worker and friend Lorena from San Francisco, whom Joe adores and whom we always manage to chase out of our house showering her with desserts she doesn't want (you shoulda taken that Krispy Kreme when you had the chance, "Alena"!!)...there's so much...the thoughts and the memories don't stop...I'm just going to continue in streamofconsciousness-style... riding the subway, standing up, falling asleep, falling asleep standing up on the subway (nothing could be more Korean), Itaewon, el Masry's Egyptian restaurant, bartering with shopkeepers for discounts, the 9502 bus, the constant spitting and horking on the street that I am so accustomed to I don't even hear anymore, the pollution, the Yellow Dust that chokes you and makes your eyes sting and your lungs ache, the constant unceasing buzz of chatter that I simply love not being able to understand, that now when I randomly happen to hear a conversation in English between strangers, I can't help but listen (it's very distracting), the gum-popping ajummas that drive me up the wall, the spicy instant noodles with a slice of processed cheese, spending half our paycheck at Starbucks (damn them and their good coffee!!!), Joe's playrooms at Lotte Mart, Emart, and New Core...how people walk, meandering this way and that, and so easily distracted ("Look!! That dog has a puffy tail! Come here, Puff!!"), following whatever fancy catches their attention (the other day, we saw a pedestrian on a cellphone walk backwards into the path of an oncoming bus - he was OK), the incredible warmth and passion that people are not generally afraid to express, their incredible depth and sincerity, how much they love Joe (all children in general, actually)...Emo and her family, Noona, Hyung-ah, and Ajeoshi, how lucky we have been to find her, this past year she has cared so well for Joe while we are at work, and even though we can't speak the same language, we can communicate remarkably well, learning how to make kimchi and mandu from her, eating dinner with her and her family, making spaghetti sauce for them... from her Joe has learned to speak a second language, and has also become a part of her family, as photos of him adorn their walls and the older brother has been allowed to miss his evening academy classes this week in order to spend more time with Joe....
Korea's great.
There's far too much to write about in a single blog entry. It could easily become a book. I guess the important thing to say is how much we've loved our experience living in Korea, and how much we're already looking forward to returning here in the fall. That said, we're also very excited to be coming home to Saskatoon, to see our family and friends, (but mainly Ida, the most delightful dog ever).
We'll see you all very soon.
Friday, February 9, 2007
Countdown to Canada
It has begun... the final countdown. As of today, Friday February 9th, we have precisely three weeks left in Korea (we get home on March 3), divided into the following: two and a half weeks of procrastination, followed by a frantic three days of packing, cleaning, and madly trying to fit 15 months of accumulated junk into Air Canada's baggage allowance. (I feel sufficiently more Korean in that I'm seriously preparing to bribe the employees at the check-in counter to bump us up to first class - though it's certainly not considered a bribe here, but simply a "gift" of Korean goodwill).
Ahh, sweet, sweet procrastination... "I'm sorry, Nathan/Dad/Mom/insert name here. We had the perfect idea for your gift, but you know how fast a year and a half passes... We hope you really enjoy these "Welcome to Calgary" postcards and novelty rodeo fridge magnets."
With three weeks left, we have started to reflect on all the things we have done and have yet to do. Joe's Emo and I have started to get along quite well, and have reached some sort of base level of communication centred in her kitchen, where she shows me the intricacies of kimchi, kimchi mandu (Korean dumplings), and Joe's new favorite snack (I don't know the name, but all you need are sunflower and pumpkin seeds, walnuts, soy sauce, sesame oil, and garlic, roasting innocently in a pan until the unexpected addition of the main ingredient, a large fistful of tiny dried fish, bones and eyes and all). In return, I unveil to her the mysteries of spaghetti and tomato sauce. If only it had been the women of Babel working together in a kitchen instead of the men working on some tower, the world would be a far more understanding and delicious place to be. How does one express the wonderment on her and her childrens faces as I unlocked the magic of garlic cheese bread, or the hidden depths of basil and thyme? (Though I think these will remain two strange spices that exist in her cupboard, much like the strangely untouched jar of curry powder your hippie parents bought to make that one special dish for some vegan potluck back in '73).
So we're packing up, finishing the few final things left to see and do here, and then it'll be home for a week before Matt and I leap across the Atlantic for two weeks to see a bit of Poland and Italy. (Matt is in it for the art, and I'm all about the food and drink, unabashedly in love with any country that will serve you up an espresso if you order a "regular coffee"!)
See you soon!!
Ahh, sweet, sweet procrastination... "I'm sorry, Nathan/Dad/Mom/insert name here. We had the perfect idea for your gift, but you know how fast a year and a half passes... We hope you really enjoy these "Welcome to Calgary" postcards and novelty rodeo fridge magnets."
With three weeks left, we have started to reflect on all the things we have done and have yet to do. Joe's Emo and I have started to get along quite well, and have reached some sort of base level of communication centred in her kitchen, where she shows me the intricacies of kimchi, kimchi mandu (Korean dumplings), and Joe's new favorite snack (I don't know the name, but all you need are sunflower and pumpkin seeds, walnuts, soy sauce, sesame oil, and garlic, roasting innocently in a pan until the unexpected addition of the main ingredient, a large fistful of tiny dried fish, bones and eyes and all). In return, I unveil to her the mysteries of spaghetti and tomato sauce. If only it had been the women of Babel working together in a kitchen instead of the men working on some tower, the world would be a far more understanding and delicious place to be. How does one express the wonderment on her and her childrens faces as I unlocked the magic of garlic cheese bread, or the hidden depths of basil and thyme? (Though I think these will remain two strange spices that exist in her cupboard, much like the strangely untouched jar of curry powder your hippie parents bought to make that one special dish for some vegan potluck back in '73).
So we're packing up, finishing the few final things left to see and do here, and then it'll be home for a week before Matt and I leap across the Atlantic for two weeks to see a bit of Poland and Italy. (Matt is in it for the art, and I'm all about the food and drink, unabashedly in love with any country that will serve you up an espresso if you order a "regular coffee"!)
See you soon!!
Saturday, December 9, 2006
Hanging by a thread - and I don't mean Spiderman
When we first arrived in Korea, so long long ago, (it's now 13 months!), our senses were at first completely assaulted by the noisy, neon advertisements covering every conceivable inch of space on any building housing any type of business whatsoever, be it one of the ubiquitous "norebang" (karaoke rooms), "ho-pes" (hofs, or bars), hakwons or the delicious and cheap 24-hour chain diners, Kimpap Changuk, or Kimpap Nara (known simply to foreigners as the "orange kimpap place", a place to head for at 4 am, for kimpap, bibimbab, cheese deokbokki - short, thick and satisfying rice noodles smothered in spice and processed cheese slices, for the uninitiated - after filling your belly with cheap and terrible draft beer or soju).... wow, that was one long-ass sentence!
Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes, the signs. The signs are everywhere, flashing neon noise in all directions - for you Saskatonians, it's like the Ex on speed, except every day, and every hour.
With all these signs, there is obviously a certain amount of maintenance needed to ensure they don't work themselves loose and hurtle down to impale some poor soul seven stories below. At least you would think it should be an obvious fact. Yet, a former teacher told me how, shortly before we arrived, he was on the top floor of our school smoking a cigarette outside the window, when one of the dozens of signs plastering our building was blown free by a rogue gust of wind and did indeed plummet seven stories to the sidewalk below (a sidewalk usually teeming with children). Mercifully, no one was injured, or killed, by the rather ironic fact that a doctor's sign had just shattered upon the ground.
That said, there are certain safety guidelines and regulations that we back in North America are expected to follow without question. Seat belts, car seats, even the simple assumption when driving that red=stop, green=go, and that there is some natural unspoken law that governs the flow of traffic to ensure that cars remain in the right-hand lane, are a few that come immediately to mind. Here, it is much less precise, and Koreans are much more...well, liberated in terms of these iron-clad views of safety we in dear ol' North America cherish so deeply.
Safety practices, as we know them in North America, are almost non-existent here. For instance, young children clamber happily and free inside a speeding vehicle as it weaves frantically through 5 lanes of traffic. Incredibly, sometimes tiny kids, sometimes more than one child, are ferried around on "autobikes" (Konglish for "motorcycle") without helmets, and certainly without any type of restraint. When our air conditioner was clogged last summer, the repairman actually stuck his mouth on the hose and suctioned foul black sludge out of the implement - what would our unions say about that??
But my favorite to observe are the men who work to either clean windows or repair or maintain the massive amount of signs. Working on buildings sometimes over 30 stories, they simply attach a single rope from the roof and lower themselves down on a plank of wood used as a seat. It's absolutely terrifying to watch, but morbidly perhaps, whenever I see it, I can't seem to tear my eyes off them.
Korea, in so many ways, is best summed up as constantly being "an accident waiting to happen." It's precariously and delightfully random.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Joe and Grandma
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I "teach" monsters. They are mostly all seven years old, wild, disrespectful, unable to speak any English, and I dislike most of them. One howls like a wolf whenever I try to say "be quiet". Another regularly takes naps under his desk on the floor, and is unresponsive to any sort of remonstration, other than the 13 year olds I sometimes employ to "give 'em shit" in Korean. And yet another little bastard spits on me and tries to bite me whenever I drag him out of class for being an irritating little shit.
So it was with great joy that I managed, on Tuesday, October 24, to convince my boss to give me half a day off in order to pick up my mom from the airport. My mom had amazed me... before this, she had never ventured outside the borders of North America. But after hearing about Dad's adventures here this summer, and of course the stories and photos of an ever-growing Joe, she was convinced to make the trip here herself.
Unfortunately, we were unable to take any time off work during the 2 1/2 weeks Mom visited. But we made several trips into the city (to Namdaemun Market, Insadong, Gyongbokgung Palace, Itaewon... all the big tourist stops). But we all knew the real reason behind her visit... it was not to see Korea, nor really to see Matt or me... no, it was all about Joe.
So it was with great joy that I managed, on Tuesday, October 24, to convince my boss to give me half a day off in order to pick up my mom from the airport. My mom had amazed me... before this, she had never ventured outside the borders of North America. But after hearing about Dad's adventures here this summer, and of course the stories and photos of an ever-growing Joe, she was convinced to make the trip here herself.
Unfortunately, we were unable to take any time off work during the 2 1/2 weeks Mom visited. But we made several trips into the city (to Namdaemun Market, Insadong, Gyongbokgung Palace, Itaewon... all the big tourist stops). But we all knew the real reason behind her visit... it was not to see Korea, nor really to see Matt or me... no, it was all about Joe.
Look Out! Here comes the Spider Joe
Can he swing from a thread?......
Well not just yet, but given the chance I'm sure he'd try.
Our son is a Spiderman-a-holic. He runs back and forth in our little apartment, shouting "boy's running like spiderman", he has spiderman poses and even a spiderman face. Joe is addicted to spiderman.
When we had trouble with him using the potty at his babysitters it was "his" spiderman we bribed him with.
Then on one glorious day in late October, his Grandma came to visit, whom he hadn't seen in nearly a year. If there was one thing that could break the ice it was spiderman. Is there anything like preening over yourself in the mirror admiring your new Spiderman pajamas?
(Hanna's aside: Back when Matt and I were "just friends", he would often talk about how he wanted a child, just in order to train him to be a superhero, specifically one that was imbued with the amazing superhero assets one could only obtain through the bite of a radioactive insect (or arachnid, for you nerdy biology types). Personally, I am more inclined to admire and empathize with the Green Goblins or Dr. Octopuses of the world - even though they suffer the inevitable downfall inherent in all supervillains, they, well, always seem admirably motivated to accomplish their lofty goals, like taking over the world. Spiderman, and other superheroes, seem, in comparison, predictably reactionary. As a child, I would always watch Inspector Gadget, not because I liked the cartoon, but because I harboured the faint hope that "today, maybe today, Dr. Claw will finally get that damn Gadget!!").
(sigh.....Matt's aside to Hanna's aside (could this get more ridiculous). Why is it that older siblings tend to have a penchant for siding with evil? some sort of quick excuse for the crimes they commit against their younger brethren....I'm not sure. I do know that I grew up with a brother who always had to be the bad guy. He was Darth Vader to my Luke Skywalker, Shredder to my Ninja Turtles, Megatron to my Optimus (seriously I can go on and on) Mummra to my Thundercats, (does anyone remember the Visionaries?) He was the bad Visionaries to my good Visionaries. I kid you not, he was, when we were children, the Germans to my Allied forces (Yes that's right Dave, I remember "The Battle of Britain: Their Finest Hour", the computer game.)
So Matt wonders why we older siblings feel this inclination to the evil side of human nature... with our "younger brethren" so uppity with their "morals" and "righteousness", all we could really do was counter it, our yang to their yin, etc.... Or just punch them twice when our parents weren't looking. Or frame them for crimes they hadn't committed. Or steal their cookies. Or lock them out on the roof of the house when you were supposed to be taking care of them for the afternoon (I slap my knee with mirth at the very memory).... ahh, delicious deception, enforced through brute strength.
And who can blame us younger siblings for desperately hanging onto to some out dated twisted perception of justice? There just had to be something coming for our older siblings, didn't there? Shouldn't they be struck down by God's fury, or at the very least suffer something utterly humiliating in front of their friends, perhaps along the lines of what they did to us infront of our friends? Doesn't it seem right? DAMN IT GOD, WOULDN'T IT BE JUST??!!!!!!! Why did they always win?......What the hell happened to Karma???????
Somehow, somewhere along the way I think we forgot we were talking about Joe. He's doing great and learning "that with great power comes great responsibility"....(At least as long as he remains the only child).
Monday, September 18, 2006
Dog Food
I am amazed at the, shall we say, creativity, with which human beings the world over approach the universal need for food.
Imagine that you're feeling a little hungry, and in need of a quick snack before work. What do you do? Well, head down to the Lotte Mart of course, where they keep live squid swimming around in a large aquarium. State your preference, and your friendly squid attendant will deftly scoop out the chosen one into a net and onto the cutting board. Before you can say "don't forget the spicy paste," the employee has brought out the gleaming cleaver and hacked the recently-deceased (is 'deceasing' a word?) squid into dozens of unhappily writhing, bite-sized pieces, and deposited it onto a paper plate with disposable chopsticks and packages of spicy paste for your dining pleasure. I'm told you have to chew fast, or the tentacles will stick to your teeth.
I have never considered myself intolerant towards other cultures and their penchant for certain foods that simply strike me and my North American sensibilities as revolting. I simply choose not to eat certain foods, but I don't think it's at all my place to say what is or is not right when it comes to taste.(After all, we Canadians can't seem to cook vegetables to save our lives, and any condiment other than ketchup or mustard is considered a little too exotic for our mild and unabrasive temperament. And don't even get me started on our nonsensical aversion to tofu, or curry, or spices other than dried basil and oregano (GOD FORBID we even think of using fresh-ground spices or, think of it, FRESH HERBS once and a while!!!), or the fact that we need a heart-clogging pound of flesh thrice daily in order to feel nourished). Ok, ok, so maybe I feel a little more justified in passing judgement on my own culture than one which is so very foreign and that I will never truly understand.
That said, there is one aspect of Korean cuisine which does bother me. It's not the squid, nor the popular street snack ppeondaggi (stewed silkworm pupae that smells 100 times more potent than freshly roasted grasshoppers stuck to a car's radiator on a steamy Saskatchewan summer day), but something that hits a little closer to home.
We all have a soft spot in our hearts for abandoned and abused critters, and while we don't all support the SPCA with donations, the majority of people I know at least think the organization is a good idea. Koreans, while they adore their little rat-sized fashion accessory dogs to the point of lunacy (these once-upon a time canines commonly sport doggie jewellry and dyed fur - yes, Joe talks about the "purple puppies" he sees), have a spot not in their hearts but in their stomachs for another, less fortunate breed of dog (that just happens to taste good in a soup called "boshintang")!
Now, remember what I said earlier about not passing judgement? Hindus think hamburgers are atrocious, and us Jews avoid (among other things) the "insects of the sea", those crawling, scavenging creatures that feed on carcasses and other garbage adorning the ocean floor. Well, who am I to think that eating dog meat is wrong? Is it any different? Not really - it's just a matter of taste, so to speak. The thing that, well, really gets my goat is the manner in which the dog is killed. The dog is tied down and beaten to death, in the belief that it tenderizes the meat, making it tastier and a more effective libido-booster for men....(shudder)....
So, how do you take the leftovers home? Why, in a doggie bag, of course!
Imagine that you're feeling a little hungry, and in need of a quick snack before work. What do you do? Well, head down to the Lotte Mart of course, where they keep live squid swimming around in a large aquarium. State your preference, and your friendly squid attendant will deftly scoop out the chosen one into a net and onto the cutting board. Before you can say "don't forget the spicy paste," the employee has brought out the gleaming cleaver and hacked the recently-deceased (is 'deceasing' a word?) squid into dozens of unhappily writhing, bite-sized pieces, and deposited it onto a paper plate with disposable chopsticks and packages of spicy paste for your dining pleasure. I'm told you have to chew fast, or the tentacles will stick to your teeth.
I have never considered myself intolerant towards other cultures and their penchant for certain foods that simply strike me and my North American sensibilities as revolting. I simply choose not to eat certain foods, but I don't think it's at all my place to say what is or is not right when it comes to taste.(After all, we Canadians can't seem to cook vegetables to save our lives, and any condiment other than ketchup or mustard is considered a little too exotic for our mild and unabrasive temperament. And don't even get me started on our nonsensical aversion to tofu, or curry, or spices other than dried basil and oregano (GOD FORBID we even think of using fresh-ground spices or, think of it, FRESH HERBS once and a while!!!), or the fact that we need a heart-clogging pound of flesh thrice daily in order to feel nourished). Ok, ok, so maybe I feel a little more justified in passing judgement on my own culture than one which is so very foreign and that I will never truly understand.
That said, there is one aspect of Korean cuisine which does bother me. It's not the squid, nor the popular street snack ppeondaggi (stewed silkworm pupae that smells 100 times more potent than freshly roasted grasshoppers stuck to a car's radiator on a steamy Saskatchewan summer day), but something that hits a little closer to home.
We all have a soft spot in our hearts for abandoned and abused critters, and while we don't all support the SPCA with donations, the majority of people I know at least think the organization is a good idea. Koreans, while they adore their little rat-sized fashion accessory dogs to the point of lunacy (these once-upon a time canines commonly sport doggie jewellry and dyed fur - yes, Joe talks about the "purple puppies" he sees), have a spot not in their hearts but in their stomachs for another, less fortunate breed of dog (that just happens to taste good in a soup called "boshintang")!
Now, remember what I said earlier about not passing judgement? Hindus think hamburgers are atrocious, and us Jews avoid (among other things) the "insects of the sea", those crawling, scavenging creatures that feed on carcasses and other garbage adorning the ocean floor. Well, who am I to think that eating dog meat is wrong? Is it any different? Not really - it's just a matter of taste, so to speak. The thing that, well, really gets my goat is the manner in which the dog is killed. The dog is tied down and beaten to death, in the belief that it tenderizes the meat, making it tastier and a more effective libido-booster for men....(shudder)....
So, how do you take the leftovers home? Why, in a doggie bag, of course!
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