Seoul Food

First things first: as many of you know, I am a coffee addict. Though coffee is not "technically" a food, I would rate it pretty darn high on the list of things necessary to keep me nourished. 

That said, it is nearly impossible to find a decent cup of coffee here in SoKo. 

'Devastating' is just one word that came to mind when I realized this. 

The Koreans claim they drink coffee. There's even an alleged "coffee" machine at the school. But, to steal from the ever-brilliant Douglas Adams, this liquid is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike coffee. It gushes out of this machine into miniature, espresso-sized paper cups, but it is not espresso. Oh no. It tastes like liquid sugar with coffee flavoring. Horrified, I tried to water it down a bit, at which point I was told by a Korean teacher that I was diluting it too much. 

Yes. That was the point. 

Despite its non-resemblance to the coffee that I know and love, I still drink about 4 dixie cups of the stuff a day. An addiction is an addiction. 

There are many Starbucks here, and even Dunkin' Donuts, so if I really need to get a fix I can go there, but it makes me sad. Plus, they charge 3,000 won for a black coffee (that's about $2.50)! I miss little independent coffee shops or cafes on every block.  

I thought I had outsmarted the system when I found boxes of instant coffee at my friendly neighborhood Kosa Mart. Better than nothing. Some of the boxes were labeled "mocha." I assumed that this was the sugary substance I'd been drinking, and so delightedly picked up the box simply labeled "coffee." There was a smiling Korean woman on the box drinking what appeared to be delicious black coffee! She looked so happy! Where could I go wrong?

No. Nonono. It was but exactly the same liquid that comes out of the school's version of the Nutrimatic dispenser. I don't even want to know what the mochas here taste like. 

Luckily, the food here is so delightful that it almost makes up for Korea's lies about possessing real coffee. One of the greatest things about the school where I work is that we are served lunch and dinner Monday through Friday. The meals are infinitely better than any of the sludge I was ever served in school. There's a communal philosophy to eating here. No one gets their own meal. All the teachers sit around a table and a variety of plates and bowls are brought out and everyone just goes at it with their chopsticks. 

Which are metal, by the way. I'm not really sure why, as most other Asian countries use wooden chopsticks, which I am much more accustomed to using. To my great embarrassment and shame, one of the other teachers pointed out that I was holding my chopsticks much too far down as I tried to pick up a particularly tricksy piece of kimchi. The metal chopsticks are more slippery, but I am learning. 

Most of the time I don't really know what I'm eating, but I usually enjoy it. Rice is served with pretty much every meal, as is kimchi, though it is still unclear to me why one would want to eat kimchi three times a day. For those of you unfamiliar with kimchi (I was), it is basically fermented cabbage or radish that can have all sorts of seasonings. There are over 400 kinds. They also serve about ten side dishes with every meal. 

As flavorful as the food is, it's all very healthy, and it fills you up without making you feel like a giant ball of grease. I especially like this stuff that is sort of like gnocchi with a spicy sauce on it. Mmmm. Gnochhi-like substance. 

The British teacher and his girlfriend, one of the Korean teachers, took Angela and me out to a Korean Barbeque in Seoul the other day, and it was some of the best cuisine I have ever tasted (I came THIS close to naming this blog "Korean BBQ: The Man, the Myth, the Legend"). Apparently, there are a lot of these in the U.S., but I'd never been to one. You cook your meat--beef, pork, chicken--on a little stove with coals right in front of you, place it on a bed of lettuce and a sesame seed leaf, add a bit of garlic, onions, and chili sauce, wrap it up and badabing, badaboom, pop the whole thing right into your unsuspecting mouth. Then your taste buds dance with joy.

Last night, we had a going away party for the British teacher and his girlfriend at a seafood restaurant. Sad for me, because I really like them, happy for them, because they are off to travel Europe for two months. Enormous, steaming plates of seafood including octopus, crab, squid, and these little things that pop in your mouth when you bite them. Everyone keeps insisting that I try this kind of live octopus (or is it squid?) that suctions itself to your tongue as it goes down. 

Pass. 

Fortunately, they didn't serve that dish at this restaurant. A good time was had by all. Especially by my wallet. The director of the school insists on paying for everything when we go out, so he was footing the food and drink bill for at least 15 people. Insane.

Speaking of drinks that are not coffee, Koreans have several interesting kinds of alcohol that I've never heard of before. Rice wine, which looks like milk, but tastes a bit like sprite, raspberry wine, plum wine...all very delicious.

They also have their own kind of liquor, called soju. Not quite as strong as the standards, but still taken in shots, and still, to use the colloquial term, fucks you up. Too many shots of soju means lots of water and painkillers in the morning. Watch out for the soju.

In summation:

Korean coffee bad.

Korean food good. 

Korean alcohol...makes you bump into things and have mysterious bruises the next day.

Till next time.  

Mikuk Salam

So, the funny thing about being hired straight out of college as a teacher is that I, in fact, have no idea how to teach. One might think that, having spent the entirety of my life thus far in school, I would have picked up some tips from the many, many teachers I have had the chance to observe. One would be wrong.

It is comical how little training I have received. Actually, the training I have received is approximately equal to ZERO. I was told I would have, at the very least, three days of training. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. My first day at the school was spent observing the other teachers, especially the native English speakers (most of the teachers are Korean). When I arrived on the second day, my first conversation with someone went something like this:

-Could you take this class at three?

-Sure. Wait, what? 

-Here's the book, teach them these pages, and at the end write the homework on the board.

-Um, okay...Wait, where is the classroom? What level are these students? Do they have this book? How long is the class period? How am I supposed to know what homework to assign? What am I dooiiinnng?!?!?!??

Suffice it to say, the school is much more casual than I thought it would be. Casual to a fault, really. I suppose I expected a lot of rigor and discipline since I've heard so much about how seriously Koreans take education. At the same time, this is a private language school, not the regular school that children attend, so it seems to follow its own set of rules. Or is devoid of them. One or the other. 

Every day I'm handed a new book and told to teach a new class. I don't know where the syllabus comes from, don't know if there even IS a syllabus, or if the other teachers just magically know which pages of the book they are teaching next. It is all very mysterious. I'm slowly picking up on things, but only because I will suddenly realize at the last second that I am missing some very important piece of information, at which point I will grab the nearest teacher, who may or may not be able to explain it to me. 

It's frustrating, but at least the disorganization of everything means pretty low expectations of me. Everyone seems pleased as peaches as long as I go into a classroom at one point and come out again 50 minutes later. It's just assumed that I have taught the students something. 

The director of the school tells me over and over again that I am here because I have a very special skill, and that I will be able to lead the other teachers. This would be flattering if my "very special skill" was something OTHER than my native language. It feels strange to be hired on the basis of knowing something that you didn't even have to try to learn.  

Despite the strange mechanics by which the school is run, I am actually enjoying my job quite a bit. The students are especially great, for the most part. They are divided according to level more than age, though they try to match up the ages as best they can. I had to figure out the hard way that just because some of my classes are older doesn't necessarily mean they speak better English than some of the younger classes. 

In the mornings I teach three classes of kindergarten, and they are all SO cute, and very smart. Some of them are as young as three, though it's sort of hard to tell, because in Korea you are considered one year old when you are born. Confusing. They will all run up and jump on me while shouting "Erin teacha! Erin teacha!" (their previous teacher has usually been British, so they all sort of speak English with a British accent). They also have a LOT of trouble saying my name, which is hilarious, because I'll get a lot of, "Eleeen?" They pick up the language so quickly, though. There is one adorable little boy who cries every time Angela and I come into the room because we are foreign, though I think he's starting to warm up to us. 

The afternoon classes vary a lot in age and level. The oldest kids I teach are probably about 12, and some of them speak very, very well already. A few of my classes are a bit older, but hardly speak ANY English because they got started with the language later than some. The first time I was up in front of one of those classes I was terrified, because they stared at me blankly and wouldn't respond to any of my questions, which I later learned was because I was speaking too quickly for any of them to understand. You never realize how quickly you speak until you're trying to communicate with a non-native speaker. Even the Korean teachers who teach English don't understand me half of the time. I am learning to speak slower and simplify my language, but I have to constantly think about it. I worry that I sound condescending when I speak so slowly. 

Do...you...like...to...play...sports? Me...too! Hooray...for...sports! 

As my dear friend Sarah McCarthy pointed out, I am surprised every time I stand in front of a classroom of students and they actually expect me to SAY something to them. They expect me to teach them something! I can only hope that I actually am. 

There's a lot of "Lost in Translation"-like things going on. Too bad Bill Murray isn't here for me to have a pseudo-romance with. 

The students who don't know as much English will sometimes point at me and say, "Mikuk salam?"

Yes, I am an American. I wish I knew more Korean so we could actually communicate. Until then, I'll just stand up here and speak at you in English, hoping you understand. 

This Week in Korea:

Two posts in one day, you ask? Does she have nothing to do there? 

Well, today I don't. Yesterday was Chuseok, which is essentially the Korean version of Thanksgiving, so we have a three day weekend. Plus, I am recovering from a night out in Seoul. But more on that later. 

The title of this post is intended to be a reference to The Daily Show's "This Week in God," which they had back when Stephen Colbert was still a correspondent. Colbert would hit a big button and the green screen would beepboopbop until it dinged! on some religious topic. It was great. I guess the title isn't as funny when you insert the word Korea...

Anyway, beepboopbopbeep...Arrival!

After a flight that could easily be classified as torture, I arrived at Incheon International Airport on Sept. 9th at 5:40pm, exhausted and frazzled. Luckily, the director of the school I'll be teaching at and the girl who started at the same time as me were there to pick me up. Otherwise I think I would have found a nice garbage can to pass out next to. 

We drove to Bucheon, where I am living, which is like a suburb of both Seoul and Incheon, but nothing like the car dealer-infested, chain restaurant filled, soul-sucking suburbs in the U.S. It just feels like the non-downtown area of a big city. 

Our apartments are quite nice, actually, and when I say "our" it is because the other girl, we'll call her...Angela, and I live right next door to each other. It's like having a roommate, but only when you want one. Perfect situation really. 

Ignorant as I am about Korean apartment living, I could not figure out how to use the shower, the stove, or the air conditioning for the first three days. The shower isn't in an enclosed space, there's just a nozzle attached to the wall above the sink and a drain in the floor, which is apparently pretty standard in a lot of countries, but I'd never seen one before. Makes sense for saving space, but then the bathroom floor is wet for about an hour and I track water all over my fake wood floors. Whee! 

Also, I didn't know that there's a special button in the wall that you have to push in order to get hot water, so I took several freezing cold showers before the director of the school, we'll call him...Mr. Boss?, came over and showed me how to turn it on. Very confusing. 

The worst part about my apartment? I THINK I MIGHT HAVE BED BUGS. Which. Is. Terrifying. I don't really know, because I've never encountered them before, but i have all these little itchy red bites all over my body. At first I just assumed I was getting bitten walking around and such, but Angela says she hasn't gotten a single bite. Does anyone know anything about these awful creatures? I wikipedia-d bed bugs, and if I have things like that living in my mattress I am going to sleep on my balcony. Forever. 

Other than potential evil demons living in my sleeping space, things are good here so far. Very sleepy suddenly, so such topics as Food! Teaching! and People! will have to wait till next time. Senior Korean Correspondent, signing off. 

A Peek into My Seoul

The puns won't stop there.

Welcome.

As I recently discussed with another blogging neophyte, I have resisted the blog for quite some time now. I usually find personal blogs self-absorbed and inane. That said, this blog will certainly be self-absorbed and sometimes inane. But I like to think of it as performing a service for friends and voyeurs alike! So here we go.