Relaxing Weekend in Seoul

Hot Americano so fine

This weekend turned out to be very nice. A few of us decided to stay overnight in Seoul at a hostel, and there was shopping, sushi, Issac Toast, slow-drip coffee, and a phenomenal french toast breakfast (second breakfast if we're getting technical). The hostel stay was superb. I've never stayed at a hostel before but this one - Backpackers Inside - was really something comfortable. Great atmosphere, cool staff (cool like I wanted to be friends with the guy), an amazingly soft bed, and an amazingly comfy comforter. It was perfect.

I think what I enjoyed most was taking it easy with other people. It's one thing to crash at my apartment by myself but therapeutic to do the same with friends. The hostel has this main room with a couch and other seating -- probably one of my favorite moments from the weekend was chilling in there for about an hour. Light guitar playing, talking about students and school, and I flipped through one of the guestbooks, which had messages and drawings from the hostel's worldly occupants. That was neat to look through.

Sunday morning, we grabbed some breakfast from the conveniently located (ten steps from the hostel) Issac Toast stand. I got a ham-cheese Issac Toast, which is basically a ham and cheese egg sandwich. Everything is processed - white bread, fake cheese, spam-ham - but mouthwatering good. About halfway through, I discovered corn had been mixed in with the egg. Keeping me on my toes, Korea.

Second breakfast happened because we had planned on eating at the french toast place (250° Celsius) the night before but it wasn't open when we had wanted (needed) to eat. We were chatting outside the doors when it opened for the day. Two of our group departed for the Rail Bike and three of us stayed behind, sipped on tea, and fangirled over the fancy china tea cups and good music selection. I split the french toast platter, which came with bananas, whipped cream, sausage, salad, and homemade yogurt. Delish.

Anne & Rebecca with fancy tea 

Haven't had good bread
for a while -- amazing

Korea World

The first questions:

1. How old are you?
2. Are you married?
3. Do you have a boyfriend?

I was prepared for these, but as a twentysomething already dealing mentally with the expectations of age, I really don't care for them. And these initial questions come so abruptly to an expat from America, right after, "What is your name?" Being asked by elementary-aged kids only adds to the awkwardness. What's it to you, ya cute little munchkins? But it's honestly no more comfortable when the president of the school or the other teachers ask me, so meh -- it's a personal thing.

I understand sizing a person up on a first meeting. It's natural, but in Korea, age and marriage status is really important. Superficially, I think the Koreans would like me better if I did have a boyfriend or a husband because it fits into their understandings and expectations of a young woman in her twenties. And I'm not offended nor do I wish the social system was different; my priorities are simply more well-rounded.

Priorities aside, I would gladly say, "Yes!" to having a boyfriend or husband if it were true because that's the answer that makes the most sense in the current culture. I am indeed a yes man in Korea because it comes in handy at school for haggling vacation time; plus, I'm learning and experiencing more new things. It puts me in good situations and in a better position as an expat because in general, the Koreans really like showing and teaching you things. They are proud of Korea and of being Korean and their knowledge of such runs deep.

There is an extra enthusiasm the more "Korean" one is, which I find interesting and a little endearing. One of my friends speaks Korean very well at an intermediate-advanced level. I've witnessed joyous conversations and "service" (or free) food on the discovery that she speaks Korean. She has what sounds like the best talks -- everybody loves her. I admit, I feel a twinge of jealousy. I wish I could interact with the Koreans like that.

On the flip side, I am Korean. I was born in Seoul, but I am also an American that doesn't know a lick of the language beyond the bare basics. It was hugely confusing for the teachers and students at my school when I first started. One the teachers kept saying over and over, "You have a Korean face, you have a Korean face." My adviser back in Wisconsin told me that the Koreans don't openly talk about adoption for personal reasons. Personal reasons being that they would care for and raise their children if they could, and when they know they can't -- it's very personal. It took a couple of days for everyone to understand that I was a new foreigner English teacher, not a new Korean English teacher.

Being Korean is "more Korean." There's no grand special treatment, but it counts towards the Korean pride of all things Korean. For sure, people assume I speak the language, which has made me feel a little guilty. It's just the way it is. Maybe I should've been more interested in learning about my heritage. Truth is, I've always thought it was cool I was born in a different country. But that wasn't part of my life. I am who I am. Pegging a person to know certain things and to be a certain way because of how they look or where they come from maybe proves logical most of the time. But it is not fact.

One night at the bar, this local guy thought it hilarious that I was learning some basic Korean phrases from a friend, who was white. Hilarious in sort of a demeaning way -- I have a hard time in situations like that because I can see why he thought it laughably ironic. It is kind of funny if one starts thinking of "what if." What if I had been raised in Korea; I'd speak Korean and it'd be a silly situation. But that's not how it is. So, come on, guy. My motto: let it go, because the less power to him. The less power to get know someone with an open mind.

Another small detail that's been bothering me: I've said "white people" more times than I have ever cared to. It's strange because it's been slipping out in sort of embarrassingly distasteful ways. I think, it has to do with my confusion on how to label myself. I've never really given my race much thought past the "check your ethnicity" box on surveys and forms, but here in Korea I don't look like a expat; I look like a Korean. Sometimes, I like that. I like disappearing in the crowd; other times, I don't like it, mostly because it requires more talking (explaining). The grass is always greener. Not being fully "white" or fully "Korean" can be befuddling, because, put simply, race does play a factor in everyday life in country as homogeneous as Korea. Ignoring or denying that would be inefficient and untrue. It is an ongoing effort to process everything and it's been more interesting than anything, navigating the fine lines. 

"Korea World" can be very assuming. A term coined by a friend, she works with high schoolers and she tells them, "You know, outside of "Korea World," things are different." Straight up, they know that of course, but being surrounded by people who look the same and have the same palette for food and speak the same language can in ways limit perspective. I've found myself taken aback at the things I do that surprise the teachers at school. I'm also a little bit shocked at how surprised they are when I don't understand something they do. At times, I wish there'd be a little more give. 

It is a different circumstance for both parties. One of my greatest motivations for wanting to teach in Korea for a year was to learn and see new things. However, for the teachers, this is their home - where they grew up and where their families live. There is a different mind-set and with that, a different level of conscious openess. When I see something that seems completely crazy, I swallow it with an understanding that I'm in a different country. Talking about it later with friends always helps decode the situation or at least not feel alone. 

Humor and laughter have been my saving grace on the hard days. Some shit is funny because it's funny. So many good laughs with new friends, my co-teacher, the other teachers at school, and especially my students. Just on Friday, the fifth grade class hamster went missing -- escaped from his cage (UGH, WHY). I think some of the boys sensed my abhorrence for that situation because they started coming up to me with their hands cupped saying, "Hamster, hamster," and then quickly opening them to reveal nothing. It got my heart beat up. Very funny, right? I was finally over that when the last boy came up and said, "Hamster find, hamster find," and no warning, shoved into my face, THE HAMSTER. I may have screamed and I may have tripped over my own feet. It was so funny. 
x

Teacher Abby

Finally took some pictures of my classroom!

My desk

Down the hallway

Makes me happy

The food in Korea is good. Like really good for my body. I'd say it took me a week or so to start craving kimchi simply because it fills a void in my stomach I never knew I had. Kimchi, like all the Korean food I've had, isn't scarfed, guzzled, or stuffed down. It might be shoved, slurped, and curled in seaweed but in excess? Never. One is a belchful full, but I've found that I stop when I am satisfied. I'm not tempted to eat more than I need to.

Attribute that to the absence of the salt and sugars found in meals in America and the addition of fresh vegtables (mushrooms, onions, raddishes, cabbage...), beans of lots of variety, rice, and fish. I'd say Korean food is about nourishment of the body, mind, and soul. 

Watching the teachers eat at school is my favorite show. They eat incredibly fast -- something I read about but an observation I happily share with my new co-teacher (she also thinks they eat quickly). One day, we were served chicken wings, like the ones at Quaker Steak & Lube. And you bet I waited to see how they would handle that situation; they used their chopsticks. They picked them up and so beautifully ate those wings. I wish I could paint a painting that could capture that moment of grace. So I followed suit and hey, didn't do so badly. It's in my blood after all. 

Lunch at school is one of my favorite activities to do in Korea. Such a routine and natural thing, but I really enjoy the surprise and hope for what is served. Sin Hyeon Gyeong, my new co-teacher, and I head down around noon after our last normal class of the day, and being teachers and all, float up to the front of the line. I grab my "teacher" metal lunch tray, spoon, and metal chopsticks and move along the line. First comes the kimchi and the spicy vegetable-sometimes-pineapple stop (the pineapple happened once!). Then comes the rice stop - white rice, rice with flecks of beans, fancy rice that's seasoned up. Next comes the soup stop - soup everyday and everyday a different soup. I'm starting to love and need my soup. Last comes what I like to call the "this makes me happy" stop. This is where you get the chicken wings. The "corn dog." The "sweet and sour chicken." The protein and the familiar. Everything is a little different in Korea, including milk, gum, and popcorn, but the glimmer of familiar is enough and it's so good. 

Pushy Seoul

A group of people from my program have been taking Korean language classes in Seoul for five weeks now. They invited me along this past Saturday and with the class costing 1,000 won (less than a dollar) per class, I'm planning on a weekly trip to Seoul -- which is fine by me. I like Seoul; in a city of ten million, there's millions of things to see and do. And there are millions of people to gawk at.

There is also something neat about the fact that I was born in Seoul. It's one of those odd feelings that I can only describe as romantic. It's poetic but more straight cut than poetry. It doesn't feel like "I've come to the mothership" or anything like that. It's simply Seoul, the city and culture I was born into. 

After class, a few of us decided to go to the big fireworks show right outside the Yeouido subway station. With themed segements representing different countries - France and Cananda being two of them - the fireworks supposedly lasted for over an hour. My favorite part was the festival food. There were whole chickens rotisserie-style for 6,000 won, fried everything, and corn on the cob that tasted like the kernels were infused with rice. Rice is a main dish in Korea, but I don't know how they did that to the corn. Once the fireworks started, I really enjoyed watching the general reaction. It was as if the Koreans had never seen fireworks before. I mean, there were kids rightfully freaking out (one boy sitting on his dad's shoulders was pounding his little fists on his dad's head over and over in his excitement). But there were adults talking quickly in Korean with intermitant booming, imitating the fireworks. It was adorable. 

That being said, THERE WERE SO MANY PEOPLE. As one is in a different country, I'm glad I went. But I may just avoid major events like that in Seoul ever again. Or just make plans to spend the night and wait out the crowd. Walking into the festival grounds was an experience because the sheer number of people really got to me. Got to me in the sense that wow, there are a shit ton of people in this world, and I'm walking with ALL of them. It was like we were folllowing Moses into the promised land. Everyone heading for the same place. But getting home was a nightmare. We thought we would be fine leaving after the first segment of fireworks. And it might have been okay had the subway traffic been more organized and less pushy. 

I'm not sure if Seoul thought this fireworks festival was going to draw far less people than it did, but there needed to be a team of police dedicated to subway traffic control. It honestly would have been as simple as having a police "bouncer" outside the subway entrance to regulate the number of people going into the station. But they didn't and it was literally a suffocating experience. It took over a hour to get through a space that normally would have taken a few minutes. It wasn't the time that made me so angry but the pushing. We got down there, and there was no turning around. Koreans just shoving us into the crowd. It was completely unnecessary and excalated the situation into a trampling news-like story. There were families with really young kids that I was genuinely scared for. The kids were just wailing because it was so hot and they were getting pushed into -- it was not okay.

It changed my perspective a little bit about Koreans as a people. They are reasonable and polite; however, that experience was stupid. It made me recognize the selfishness and desperation that resides in all people when trying to catch a late night subway.  

I was trying to imagine if this would've happened in Paris or NYC, the other two cities I've been to with subways. It could most definitely. But would people push and shove like that? I can only hope not. 

First Trip to Seoul

Figuring out the bus from Icheon to Seoul was probably the most frustrating experience I've had so far. It was the most frustrating because I let myself get angry at the language barrier. The Icheon Bus Terminal is completely in Korean. The "English" website for the Terminal is most useless. The English help line was asking for my reservation number and when I said I just needed to buy a ticket, the girl said, "Oh. Sorry." Hang up. The tellers don't speak English and I was counting on friendly Koreans to help me. But as my friend from my program later pointed out, not everyone had the day off and a lot of people were probably heading to work and in a less helpful mood.

But there was this one girl. In her twenties. Pink sweater and looking like she might speak English. I'm like, "Oh yeah, she's the one to save the day." I could not have been any more wrong. She was SO rude. I just wanted to rip that pink sweater to pieces. It was a Scarlet O'Hara moment if I've ever had one. 

One eye-opening fb convo with the previous native English teacher later, I realized that all I needed to do was take any bus to Seoul; then, the subway would take me where I needed to go (duh). I'd been focusing too much on the specifics. So, I bought a ticket and honestly didn't know if I got on the right bus. But I did. And then I hiked up a mountain. It was a fantastic day. Subway love. 

Foods

The Shellfish Place

This was amazing. This shellfsh restaurant is just a few blocks from my apartment. It was "rammed" when we got there, because it's a very popular local place. Split six ways, it was only about 9,000 won ($8.00) for the whole meal, which included soup, cheese and corn (pictured above), and the pile of shellfish, shrimp, and octopus (also pictured above). Can't figure out the cheese and corn. 

Market Area just off Walking Street 

This is a view of the "market" area on walking street. Jam packed with Koreans on plastic chairs at 11:00PM on a week night. It's a really great place to get Korean eats. 

Ddeokbokki (쫄볶이) -- pounded rice

My new co-teacher and I were returning from Suwon and she spontaneously stoped at two different food stands. First, we ate these really delicious meat buns, called mandu (dumplings), which were a familiar tasty. No picture because I scarfed them down. Steamed, they don't look like much - they're this pasty white color - but do they ever pack the flavor. I think they come in chicken and beef and are Western-texture friendly. At the second stop we got ddeokbokki (쫄볶이) pictured above. Really popular in Korea, whole restaurants are dedicated to making only this dish. I believe it's some kind of pounded rice. Packaged to-go and eaten with noodles and a glass of milk handy, I enjoyed it. 

Lightbulbs, Icheon, & Ceramics

It was such a high buying lightbulbs. I just got home from school via walking with the science teacher (yes, no more heart-wrenching, panic attack morning bus rides for me) and having received my settlement money, my stomach was full of freshly made stir fry. Plus, my "kitchen" is now the brightest part of my apartment. 

This past weekend was chill but a lot of fun. I met some of the other expats at the local "foreigner" bar on Friday. Turns out there's a small community of about thirty of us in Icheon. It's nice to know there are English-speaking friends around. And there was talk of having a barbeque one of these weekends, which I am ALL ABOUT. 

It's a mixed group of people; there's a strong Wisconsin presence woooo (which is how I got introduced -- thanks, Jessica!) as well as people from South Africa, California, and the UK. The guy from the UK, no lie, looks like Daniel Radcliffe's (aka Harry Potter's) twin. I've been crushing pretty hard on that accent. Since most of them (or all of them) have been in Icheon for a year and a half, it's been really helpful just hanging out with them and seeing how they order food and buy things (if you don't know what a food is called in Korean, just make the English word sound Korean: waffle cone = wah-pple cone). And hearing about their experiences has been hilarious. 

The Ceramics Festival started this past weekend, and wow. I have found my happy place in Icheon. The Ceramics Village, or Ceramia, which is either part of Seolbong Park or right next to it, has grounds that are simple, playful, and elegant. Located "where the mountain and water meet," it's a really breathtaking area. The style, look, and feel of Ceramia does remind me a bit of my home in Wisconsin with ceramic sculptures and art pieces incorporated into the landscape and the numerous walking trails. It's a very honest and intuitive design. I like it a lot.

Complete with everything you could need, including convenience stores, several performance stages, a traditional tea house, The Modern Ceramics Museum, The Icheon City Museum, art studios (glassblowing, ceramics), and the biggests kilns I have ever seen (whole firing rooms), Ceramia truly is a kind of utopia. 

Sitting amongst the ceramics

Painted details

A pottery mascot -- that little guy in the green was flipping out. He was running around the pot, laughing, screeching. Probably one of the funniest-cutest moments in Korea thus far.

Food tents are more like food restaurants -- real classy, real nice. These woman are making some sort of Korean pancake (jeon).

Kids lining up to have a go with the hammer at what I thought was rice

Resting at the "top" of the hill, near the Modern Ceramics Museum

Archive Room -- really fun design with the hanging books

One of my favorite, though not unseen, exhibitions -- pop & advertising culture done in ceramics