Things Koreans Like Part 1.

So in another series of postings, I will be investigating some of the various like of the general Korean populus. The list is long, and continues to grow, but I will be updating throughout my journey here in the Far East.

1) Kimchi.

For those of you unaware of Kimchi, it could also be known as the national pride of Korea. It is eaten at every meal, and constantly praised for its miraculous health benefits. Now for those of you unaware of what Kimchi actually is...it is fermented cabbage mixed with spices. It tastes like a soggy, spicy piece of garlic, and causes your breath to smell like the seventh layer of hell. One would think it would be easy to avoid such a food, but they want to shove it down your throat like its going out of style. They love to talk about all the good bacteria in it, and how it cures all these diseases and stuff. All I know, is that it is seriously reeking havoc on my breath. 


2) Driving like idiots.

I have LITERALLY seen someone driving full speed on the wrong side of the road here. They have no sense of right of way, they use their horns randomly and inappropriately, they ride the brakes, and stop for no reason. They will pull a u-turn in the middle of the street into oncoming traffic. They will ride with a family of 4 on a moped, with no helmets...I have seen a man driving a scooter while holding a baby...all helmet-less. I have thought my life would end in a taxi cab in numerous occasions now. There is no stopping for pedestrians at walkways, or stopping at red lights even. And when they do stop, they ALWAYS put the car in park and put the ebrake up. They always back into parking spaces. It is so bizarre. So the stereotypes about Asian drivers...they are ALL true.

3) Angry Birds and Hello Kitty.

There is a straight up OBSESSION with Angry Birds and Hello Kitty. Now, I was expecting the Hello Kitty...this being Asia and all... but the Angry Birds caught me for surprise. As far as copyright infringement goes...that's a whole other topic...but all I know is that the little birds and pigs are on EVERYTHING...socks, bags, clothes, bus cards, food, commercials...everything.

3) Relationships.

Relationships in Korea are the worst. I mean the worst. First off, the society is not focused around "sexiness" like the west is. In the west, Sexy sells...and people try and appear sexier to attract the opposite sex. Nay, Korea is the land of the Cute. Cute is what gets people going. Hair bows, soft giggling, headbands, t-shirts with puppies on it. And one of the cutest things a couple can do.....matching outfits. I kid you not, couplewear is all the rage here. the first time I saw it, I assumed it was accidental. It's not. It is on purpose. They wear matching outfits. Everyday. Down to the shoes. It's sickening.

4) Nonsensical T-Shirts

The current "in" style here in Korea is T-shirts with English phrases on it. This would be fine....if they could understand what they are wearing. I guess it all started my first weekend here, I was waiting outside the train station in Busan when I saw a young teenage girl with a t-shirt that said "Free Mustache Rides." The poor girl must have felt uncomfortable as I stood and laughed at her. Some other gems have been a teacher with a shirt reading "Bitch, Please" and the various "Boston Massachubatts" shirts I seem to see everywhere.

5) Spam

I am not talking about junk emails here. I mean spam, as in the mystery meat in the can. For a health-obsessed nation, this particular product seems a bit out of place. They love it tho. It's in everything, it is sold everywhere. They have Spam Gift packs for crying out sakes! I was told that during the Korean War, Korean people would eat rations sent in for the American Troops, thus introducing and injecting spam into local Korean dishes. They chow down on spam like its a filet mignon, and I don't have the heart to tell them that it is the official delicacy of trailer parks across the nation.

Keep an eye out for more to come.

Mudfest

This weekend was an event known only as "Mudfest."

Now, you may be thinking to yourself, what exactly is mudfest? Well, if you are one of those people, slap yourself in the face. Mudfest is exactly what you think it is, exactly what it sounds like....a festival of mud.

Now mudfest is in Boryeong, which is a bit of a hike from Milyang, and Ingrid, Charle and I were slated to go there with a crew from Goechang. On Friday evening, the pilgrimage began.

First we were to take the train to Daegu. There we had a single mission to retrieve my lost camera (gotta love Korean honesty) which was at a bar I got properly wasted at a few weeks back. Camera in hand, it was time to take the bus to Goechang for the night.

Now because we had to wake up early for the 3 hour ride to Boryeong in the morning we figured we would take it easy Friday. 3 Soju cocktails and one in the morning later, Charle and I were snuggled up for approximately 4 hours of sleep (I was little spoon).

Bright and early we rose, got on the bus, and arrived at our "hotel", or rather, the floor space we would call our beds later, at around 10:00 am. We promptly donned our matching red t-shirts, gave each other marker tattoos, and took jäger shots.

By noon we were all quite tipsy.

I had befriended some Phillipinos in the window of a chicken restaurant, and was trying to play matchmaker with some of my friends. However, in our marker tattooing brilliance, we decided to get each others phone numbers painted on our arm ("in case we get lost!") the rest of the day involved many phone calls from mysterious strangers all asking for the wrong people.

Then we made our way to the beach, promptly jumped in the ocean, took a picture with a Korean guy dressed as a cow, and moved towards the mud.

The scene at mudfest was something out of Woodstock. People were rolling around in mud pits, smearing mud all over each other, and then jumping in the ocean and cleaning it off to do it all over again. I was cornering the beach ball market by using my superior dart skills to win prizes, use the prizes to make friends, and watch as both friends and prizes disappeared into the muddy unknown.

I found myself as the ringleader of a group of Army men that I convinced to not only play beach volleyball with me, but to buy my bag cocktails for the rest of the day. We created a mega group: the Goechang crew, the Milyang Ladies, the Army men, and other various stragglers along the way.

After an afternoon of debauchery, we decided to get food. We went to a restaurant, and as we often do, pointed to several pictures of food that looks appetizing. We got a plate of what appeared to be shellfish of sorts, mixed with peppers and onions. I tried to eat a few of these but they were just too chewy and tough.

That's when my friend Oliver, as if on cue, entered the restaurant. He is much more well versed in the ways of Korean dining than I, and he looked at the dish with much skepticism. It was then he proclaimed in his New Zealand accent, "I think that's a plate of chicken assholes mate." We giggled at the sillyness until we called the waitress over, pointed to the plate and to our bums, and she confirmed our fears.

We had eaten sphincters.

We left the restaurant in shame, now determined to make it to a bar. After much searching, we found everyplace was way overpriced, and it had started to rain.

The obvious solution was to buy bag cocktails, beers and fireworks and head down to the beach. On our walk over, a fireworks display had erupted, and cheers of Amurica poured out as the migukins sang the national anthem. Amidst this I got hit by a stray coconut....but somethings just cant be explained.

The great thing about mudfest (besides the free coconut) was that there were literally thousands of people there, but it was like we only kept seeing the same 3 groups. In fact, if someone went missing or strayed, all you had to do was will them into existence and they would magically appear. The night was filled with rain street dancing, winning stuffed animals, and other antics, until I decided to call it a nice and crawled back to then"hotel" to curl up in the fetal position, soaked from head to toe, asleep on a hard wood floor.

Now it's important to note, at the beginning of the day I looked great, like Charlize Theron at a red carpet affair. By the end of the day, I looked like her oscar winning performance in "monster". I'm telling you, homegirl looked beat. But it didn't matter, because at mudfest, none of that matters. All that matters is the rain, the mud, the Phillipinos and the beach balls that i lost to a ravenous muddy crowd. Oh ya....and Amurrica.

I would tell you about my weekend in Daegu...

But that would be too much of the same old same old.

Although if anyone has found my camera please let me know.

Nay, I shall not tell you of last weekends escapades for I have discovered something far more profound, far more life-changing, and far more rocktastic than cocktails in a bag (which they sell on the street here...so awesome).

My friends... I give you.... Extreme Ironing.

http://www.extremeironing.com/

So years ago, a british man, who goes by "Steam" had a rough day at work. He wanted to go outside and enjoy the nature, and figured he would kill 2 birds with 1 stone....Extreme Ironing was born.

My dear friends, I believe this is truly my calling. Lord knows I can't shoot a basketball, I have not the hand-eye coordination for tennis, and I can't run for the life of me...but iron I can...and I will....for...

I Am the Wrinkle Warrior!

I have officially registered as an Extreme Ironist, and my biography is as follows:

"I used to live a very dark life, surrounded by steamers and racks of clothing. I knew things needed to change, so I kicked the steamer to the side, and became dedicated to the cause of Wrinkle Removal in the harshest of conditions."

I vow, as an Iron Enthusiast, to never let wrinkles win. I vow to press shirts so crisply they can stand on their own. I wish not to criticze those that iron in their living room, but instead inspire them to fabricate a grander plan, to think outside of the board and go after a greater iron challenge! Think not what your care instructions will do for you, think of what you will do for your care instructions! Clothing tags see no limitations. Go forth, young ironers! Follow me, as your Wrinkle Warrior, and I will not leave any mountain un-pressed, any river rippled, any sport unpleated!

FEAR ME WORLD, I WILL CUT A STITCH!

Apologies for embodying the American steretype

Dear Miryang,

I'm sorry.

I know you may not have taken particular offense to my actions on Friday night, but I am aware that I made a spectacle of myself in your quiet and peaceful streets and family run establishments.

I am sorry for pounding beers and Soju shots at Coco Rico and making loud an inappropriate conversation as myself and the other foreigners sat on the patio deck.

I am sorry for blacking out as soon as we relocated to the interior of Coco Rico. The following apologies will be for what happened during that mysterious hour that I do not recall.

I am sorry for making my friends very uncomfortable by speaking French poorly and urging them to start chanting various exclamations with no success. I am sorry for consistently telling everyone how good looking they were and how wonderful we were because we all had nice teeth and good bone structure. It is unfortunate that I spoke loudly of my liberal political opinions and my desire to organize and host a beer olympics this summer. I am sorry for singling out the new friends I made by accusing them of being a part of a private Hagwon underground riddled with gambling, prostitution, violence and territory wars. My apologies for insisting that it is time to "mul" it, which is the Korean word for water, and was neither used or pronounced correctly.

I am also sorry to the people at Coco Rico. I am sorry for allowing my drunk self to interrupt your dining experience by practicing how to say hello in Korean and introducing myself. I am sorry to the staff for making them hug me and telling them how beautiful they were as we held hands to and from the bathroom.

Also, I am sorry that the song "call me maybe" is so good, and I felt the need to stand up and sing it loudly to the entire restaurant.

I am sorry for insisting upon a street photo shoot, and dragging it out due to an inability to focus. To the taxi driver who apparently took us to the singing room, I am sure that I was unruly in the backseat.

To the other people at the No Ray Bang, I am sorry for screaming Whitney Houston at the top of my lungs and insisting that Backstreet Boys and Gloria Gaynor were in fact, the music of our generation. I am sorry for standing and dancing on the furniture and playing the tambourine...which I am sure was not on beat. I am NOT sorry to the gross Korean man on the scooter outside who I had to push away on the street because he was being a complete jerk.

Also, I am sorry to my vocal chords, for ruining them. I am sorry to the toilet, for throwing up in it. I am sorry to my parents, for having to read about this. I am sorry to my friends who had to listen to my antics all night. I am sorry for being labeled the "american stereotype." And I am sorry for being so awesome and fun that the majority of Koreans don't know what to do.


Please forgive me Miryang, because I have a feeling that this will all happen again in due time.

Love always,

Annie G.

Ps. I am NOT sorry for my face in this picture...which is hilarious.

A Day in the Life

So I wanted to give you all a little looksie into my daily routine....

Mostly because I am feeling cocky today and I want to brag about how awesome my life is.

That and I miss you?

So my typical day:

I wake up around 7 and leave the house at 7:30.

At 7:30 I walk about 30 minutes to the train station...where I am listening to my ipod to my "Overly dramatic life walking music" playlist. This is my 30 minutes of alone time where I wake up, and also think I am living in a 90s music video. If it's raining I take the bus...I'm not THAT dramatic.

At 8:13 I catch my 8 minute train to Samnangin. Usually I meet up with Mi Gyung, the Special Education teacher, who holds my hand and giggles as we spend the 8 minutes pointing to objects along the way and exchanging the vocabulary in English and in Korean.

At 8:21 I arrive at Samnangin and walk 2 minutes to my school. There I am greeted by the students ("Hello Annie Teacher!") and my buddy Yong..who I have since renamed Jimmy. Jimmy and I exchange pleasantries and I head into the school, where I change into flipflops (Koreans do not wear shoes inside buildings) and make my way up to "The English Zone."

First period I usually either A) Zone out on Facebook B) Send Emails C) Nurse my hangover or D) all of the above. Occassionally I will find the motivation to prepare something for my classes.

At 9:50 my 3rd graders come in. Their homeroom teachers, an older man who speaks NO english and wears suspenders, drop them off and hangs out in the hallway in case any of them get too far out of line. I then proceed to have them repeat phrases after me, play games, dance around, and do my bidding.

After 2nd period, students are made to walk around in circles outside for excersise. The fat students are encouraged to run. I am not kidding.

3rd period brings in my 4th graders, who are the most colorful group. I usually make them act out plays and choreograph dance routines.

5th graders may be my favorite. They are a very intelligent class, and they like to make jokes and laugh at the ridiculously awkward videos I am forced to show them.

Then...there is lunch. The great adventure of the day. Sometimes it is delicious. Sometimes you are pulling tentacles out of your teeth. Lunch is always followed by a school wide brushing of the teeth. It is BYOB of course (bring your own brush).

The 6th graders occassionally show up. Their homeroom teacher is almost fluent in English, so they sometimes don't need me to teach them anything. When they do show up, the class is very fun, though they usually make side handed comments regarding a potential relationship with me and their teacher, which is always sufficiently uncomfortable.

Then...the best part of the day...the kindergarteners. I usually walk into the kindergarten and find them all lying on the floor, sprawled out (I am unsure why as both kindergarten teachers speak no english). They look at me with their little round faces and light up as if I am Buddha's gift of creation. "Annie Teacher you are so beautiful!!!" They cheer, as I fight back the tears of cute overload. I tell them they are beautiful and they giggle. Then I make them point to things and say what it is. "BLUE TABLE" "ORANGE CLOCK" YELLOW SOCK" "ANGRY BIRD". Then I sit them down and show them shapes and they repeat after me as the squirm around on the floor like little bugs. Finally, I put on music and they dance around me like I am some Korean Pied Piper. Then I high five them and tell them I will see them next time. Later in the day I find them hidden in various locations throughout the school: on the slide, in a cubbyhole, in the library, on the stairs eating ants..etc.

Typically the rest of the afternoon is filled with either good ol' Annie alone time, or my second grade entourage comes to visit me. I challenge the entourage to games of Temple Run, Angry Birds, or I make them dance to American Classics like "Single Ladies" or "Call me Maybe" (ok call me maybe is a Canadian song, but Canada is basically America. SUCK ON THAT CANADA!). Sometimes I go find Jimmy and he teaches me Korean. Other times my Principal finds me, and HE teaches me Korean...however he focuses on teaching me how to order alcohol at bars.

Usually around 3, Danny finds me somehow and tells me of an activity I am encouraged to participate in. Sometimes it's mountain climbing. Other times it is staff-wide volleyball.

During Volleyball, we all suit up and divide into teams. We kick all of the students off the gym floor and make them keep score and bring us water, alcohol and food (again I am not joking).

This is followed by an INTENSE game of volleyball where people have gotten balls spiked at their faces, serves bounced off the backs of their craniums, glasses broken, bruises, curds, stains, you name it. typically we will play for an hour or so, take a beer and Soju break, then play for another hour. Often times my principal will call out "hey Annie" and serve it straight for me. Mostly I giggle because the Koreans have adopted American volleyball verbiage and will call out "nice-ah serve-ah" or "mine-ah" or just tell me that I am a "good vorreybarr prayer" which is always a nice compliment.

On mountain climbing days, we trek up a local hiking trail which is like a straight vertical incline. At the top we drink and eat barbecue pork and have long conversations about life, politics, nature....well at least that's what I assume is going on....because everyone is just speaking Korean. Occasionally I can tell hey are
Talking about me due to general pointing in my direction or saying my name, but I enjoy the smaller mysteries in life and don't pressure to ask what exactly they are saying about the crazy "waygook" teacher.

After a long day of awesomeness I go home around 5, where I meet up either the other foreigners and have dinner, go shopping, go for a walk or read by the river. Sometimes I will sit and think to myself what a problem it will be when one day I will have to have a real person job, where I don't hang out with kobabies everyday, where I can't drink on the job with my boss, where we don't play games after hours or hike up mountains. What will I do when I have to actually grow up and settle down and live in reality?

But mostly I just reflect at the craziness of the past year and how lucky I feel to have such cool experiences...even if I don't know what anyone is saying to me ever. Sometimes I think it's better that way.

Lunch

Today I went to lunch.

I thought I was eating noodles.

Upon further inspection I found it was little salted eels.

One of them got lodged in my tooth.

Thank the lord almighty for floss.

An insiders glimpse of Korea...part 2

If there is one thing I am already sure of here in Korea...

...it is IMPOSSIBLE to guess anyone's age here.

Maybe it's the obsession over sun protection. Or maybe Korean people just don't stop aging after 17, but I swear there is NO WAY of knowing how old anyone is...and it's almost frightening.

For example, today my adorable coworker Yong was helping me learn Korean (which, may I add, is as difficult as learning how to play piano from Helen Keller). I asked him how old he was. Now, by my standards, Yong doesn't look a day over 19, but knowing he is Korean and works with me, I figured a safe estimate was 25.

Homeboy is 35 years old.


Let me also preface this with the fact that Koreans count age slightly differently than we do back in the land of the red white and barbecue. Say you are born in November here in Korea, at the dawn of the new year, you are considered 1 year old. Then come the following November you turn 2. So most Koreans will quote you an age that is one year older than if we were going to ID them at a bar (which we surely would because they all look so young).

Koreans are very healthy people (excluding the chain smoking, public loogie hocking, and the hours spent playing video games in computer cafes). They are very active, constantly walking around and exercising. They eat healthy, and everything they do or say they will follow with the line "It is good for your hearth." They mean health. Sometimes l sounds can be vicious. Ask them to talk about their "whole body."

They are obsessed with shielding their skin from the sun. Not only do they appreciate the health benefits of not looking like a piece of leather, a la USA, but also, if your skin is darker than it indicates you likely work on a farm and are of a lower social ranking.

My guess is these minor obsessions, partnered with the apparent inability to grow body hair, is the reason for perplexing ages.

Another one of my teachers is 31, married with a daughter. Thought he was 20 at most.

One of the women teachers was a little older. I though maybe 40. She is 56.

It also makes me wonder about these old men and ladies I see walking the streets (and occasionally dumping in the streets....see glimpse part 1). How old are they?! If I think they are 70 then there is a good chance they are over 100.

Maybe it's all the gimchi, or maybe they are just doing something right that we are missing out on. I mean, I figured our culture of fried food and childhood obesity was on the right track...but perhaps we should take a step back and reassess our priorities in the west....and always ID a Korean because that shit is a mystery.


In an unrelated note, these are some of my second grade cronies. I made them dance to "Call me maybe" and "single ladies"....old habits die hard.