Hello, all! Katy here. J and I are in Busan for the holiday, and as such, having far too much fun to blog. I will post soon, with pictures and stories of our holiday adventures.
Cheers, and Merry Christmas!
-K
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Jimjilbang
Happy one week till Christmas, all. You've got Katy again this week. This week I visited a Jimjilbang (pronounced "jim-jill-bong"), which is a pretty culturally specific Korean establishment, and I'd like to tell you about it. Unfortunately, given the nature of them, I don't have any pictures to show.
A Jimjilbang is a public bathhouse that typically consists of hot tubs, showers, saunas, and a lounge, though technically the word "jimjilbang" in Korean only refers to the saunas. In Korea, many people visit these bathhouses about once a month or once every other month. They are communal bathing spaces that are segregated by gender in parts, and attended completely disrobed in those spaces. In spaces where both genders intermingle, such as the dry saunas, attendants are issued identical pant and shirt outfits that are one-size-fits-all so that everyone is clad in the exact same outfit when robed at all. Ours happened to be bright orange and the elastic was barely enough to keep the pants up on my small hips. We looked to me like inmates. Another aspect of note is that many people don't just drop by to clean up and leave, most it seemed were there to spend the better part of the day. It is even permitted to stay the night, and so many people will treat the local Jimjilbang as a cheap hotel in a town they are passing through. The cost is only about 20,000 won ($19) to enter, and you can stay as long as you like.
What follows is my experience with the progression of bathing ritual in the Jimjilbang that I attended with two of my Korean friends, and one fellow foreigner. Upon arriving we purchased keys (the 20,000 won fine) which would be used for the lockers to hold our belongings. We removed our shoes immediately before moving on into gender segregated locker rooms. Once inside, most people were wandering around comfortably naked headed to and from various spaces.
The first stop was the squatting showers (which sounds strange, I know). It's worth noting here, in case I haven't already in one of these blogs, that Koreans are very good at squatting, flat footed, nearly all the way onto the floor. You will see people sitting like this waiting for bus stops, or at restaurants where there is floor seating only. This is a flexibility largely lost on most adult westerners who spend most of their seated time in chairs. Now then, back to these squatting showers. There were rows of mirrors sitting on the floor, about 3 feet tall, with sinks and handheld shower hoses coming out of them. At this height, one had to squat, or sit on tiny stools to be at the appropriate height to see in the mirror, or use the length of the shower hose. There you rinsed off before wandering over to the hot tubs, which were more like hot pools given the sizes.
There were four tubs of varying heats and most people worked their way up to the hottest where they soaked for as long as they could without getting overheated or pruny. Once you were good and water-logged, you returned to your shower station (there were dozens all in these little rows) where you used a Korean scrubbing towel (the sandpaper of washcloths) to fiercely scrub at your skin until the dead skin began to roll off in little spaghetti strings. Once you were pink, slightly raw feeling and left with nothing but the youngest skin, you suds up and rinse off. Note that we haven't yet washed our hair. Why? Because now it's sauna time.
So you head into the locker room, put on your orange, canvas uniform, and move into the gender-mixed lounge and saunas. The saunas are similarly arranged by heat, and are all dry. There was even one ice sauna (is it still called a sauna if it is iced?) which was lined with ice blocks and you had to wear slippers and sit on crates in order to not freeze burn your skin. Obviously, I was less of a fan of this room. I spent most of my time in the hottest room, pouring sweat and happy as a clam. Groups of women huddled together inside chatting, while a few individuals meditated. Again, there were mats and crates to keep you from burning your feet. The two hottest saunas were a salt sauna and a sandalwood sauna. It seems as though these things are supposed to be good for your health, though I didn't quite understand the justification. In the cooler salt sauna, there were even bags of salt that people used as pillows while they napped inside, sweating away.
The lounge that was the common space between sauna's offered multiple massage chairs, a large open space, and a flat screen TV which played K-dramas. In the large open space there were mats, like thick yoga mats, and small blocks which people used as pillows. Most people napped, though many talked and sipped on the enormous jugs of cold sweetened rice tea for sale at a convenience store located inside the lounge. There was even a restaurant in this space for those who intended to spend the night. We spent most of our time in this space, wandering from sauna to sauna, and napping in the lounge between trips to cool off. Finally, once we were done sweating and napping, we moved back into the gender segregated spaces, showered again, and this time washed our hair. Feeling the cleanest I have ever felt, and relaxed to the point of clumsiness, we lotioned, re-dressed, and headed out.
All in all I believe we only spent about 5 hours at the jimjilbang, but it was clear that many people were there for the long haul. It is advisable for everyone, Korean and foreign alike, to go with a friend for the sake of scrubbing each other's back, socializing, and reminding each other to hydrate. Though for foreigners, I would say it is almost essential to go with a friend (ideally a Korean) to show you the ropes, and ease some of the awkwardness of being stared at while idling naked. I can speak for my foreign friend, and myself, when I say that it took about two hours before we stopped noticing how intently everyone was staring at our foreign bodies. Not the most comfortable of situations but definitely well worth it in the end.
And that's the story. It may seem strange to spend an entire post talking about bathing, but these public bathhouses in Korea are incredibly common and important cultural establishments. I was honored that my Korean friends felt comfortable enough with me to invite me along, and thrilled at the opportunity to experience something so strange to me.
We've got some big Christmas-y stuff coming up in the next week, so that will undoubtedly be the topic next Sunday.
Cheers!
-K
A Jimjilbang is a public bathhouse that typically consists of hot tubs, showers, saunas, and a lounge, though technically the word "jimjilbang" in Korean only refers to the saunas. In Korea, many people visit these bathhouses about once a month or once every other month. They are communal bathing spaces that are segregated by gender in parts, and attended completely disrobed in those spaces. In spaces where both genders intermingle, such as the dry saunas, attendants are issued identical pant and shirt outfits that are one-size-fits-all so that everyone is clad in the exact same outfit when robed at all. Ours happened to be bright orange and the elastic was barely enough to keep the pants up on my small hips. We looked to me like inmates. Another aspect of note is that many people don't just drop by to clean up and leave, most it seemed were there to spend the better part of the day. It is even permitted to stay the night, and so many people will treat the local Jimjilbang as a cheap hotel in a town they are passing through. The cost is only about 20,000 won ($19) to enter, and you can stay as long as you like.
What follows is my experience with the progression of bathing ritual in the Jimjilbang that I attended with two of my Korean friends, and one fellow foreigner. Upon arriving we purchased keys (the 20,000 won fine) which would be used for the lockers to hold our belongings. We removed our shoes immediately before moving on into gender segregated locker rooms. Once inside, most people were wandering around comfortably naked headed to and from various spaces.
The first stop was the squatting showers (which sounds strange, I know). It's worth noting here, in case I haven't already in one of these blogs, that Koreans are very good at squatting, flat footed, nearly all the way onto the floor. You will see people sitting like this waiting for bus stops, or at restaurants where there is floor seating only. This is a flexibility largely lost on most adult westerners who spend most of their seated time in chairs. Now then, back to these squatting showers. There were rows of mirrors sitting on the floor, about 3 feet tall, with sinks and handheld shower hoses coming out of them. At this height, one had to squat, or sit on tiny stools to be at the appropriate height to see in the mirror, or use the length of the shower hose. There you rinsed off before wandering over to the hot tubs, which were more like hot pools given the sizes.
There were four tubs of varying heats and most people worked their way up to the hottest where they soaked for as long as they could without getting overheated or pruny. Once you were good and water-logged, you returned to your shower station (there were dozens all in these little rows) where you used a Korean scrubbing towel (the sandpaper of washcloths) to fiercely scrub at your skin until the dead skin began to roll off in little spaghetti strings. Once you were pink, slightly raw feeling and left with nothing but the youngest skin, you suds up and rinse off. Note that we haven't yet washed our hair. Why? Because now it's sauna time.
So you head into the locker room, put on your orange, canvas uniform, and move into the gender-mixed lounge and saunas. The saunas are similarly arranged by heat, and are all dry. There was even one ice sauna (is it still called a sauna if it is iced?) which was lined with ice blocks and you had to wear slippers and sit on crates in order to not freeze burn your skin. Obviously, I was less of a fan of this room. I spent most of my time in the hottest room, pouring sweat and happy as a clam. Groups of women huddled together inside chatting, while a few individuals meditated. Again, there were mats and crates to keep you from burning your feet. The two hottest saunas were a salt sauna and a sandalwood sauna. It seems as though these things are supposed to be good for your health, though I didn't quite understand the justification. In the cooler salt sauna, there were even bags of salt that people used as pillows while they napped inside, sweating away.
The lounge that was the common space between sauna's offered multiple massage chairs, a large open space, and a flat screen TV which played K-dramas. In the large open space there were mats, like thick yoga mats, and small blocks which people used as pillows. Most people napped, though many talked and sipped on the enormous jugs of cold sweetened rice tea for sale at a convenience store located inside the lounge. There was even a restaurant in this space for those who intended to spend the night. We spent most of our time in this space, wandering from sauna to sauna, and napping in the lounge between trips to cool off. Finally, once we were done sweating and napping, we moved back into the gender segregated spaces, showered again, and this time washed our hair. Feeling the cleanest I have ever felt, and relaxed to the point of clumsiness, we lotioned, re-dressed, and headed out.
All in all I believe we only spent about 5 hours at the jimjilbang, but it was clear that many people were there for the long haul. It is advisable for everyone, Korean and foreign alike, to go with a friend for the sake of scrubbing each other's back, socializing, and reminding each other to hydrate. Though for foreigners, I would say it is almost essential to go with a friend (ideally a Korean) to show you the ropes, and ease some of the awkwardness of being stared at while idling naked. I can speak for my foreign friend, and myself, when I say that it took about two hours before we stopped noticing how intently everyone was staring at our foreign bodies. Not the most comfortable of situations but definitely well worth it in the end.
And that's the story. It may seem strange to spend an entire post talking about bathing, but these public bathhouses in Korea are incredibly common and important cultural establishments. I was honored that my Korean friends felt comfortable enough with me to invite me along, and thrilled at the opportunity to experience something so strange to me.
We've got some big Christmas-y stuff coming up in the next week, so that will undoubtedly be the topic next Sunday.
Cheers!
-K
Sunday, December 11, 2016
Teacher's Extracurriculars
Hey everyone, it's Jamie this week.
One of the things that makes my working environment interesting is all of the non-work related stuff that the teachers and other school staff get up to together. Based on my conversations with the other foreign teachers, it sounds like it's this way at most schools, too. I may have already mentioned that most Wednesdays we play volleyball. Well, a while back that culminated in an inter-mural tournament with a few of the other schools in the area (we did not make a noteworthy performance.) Like so many other things, this was a complete surprise to me. Earlier in the day I thought to myself, "I wonder if we're going to be playing volleyball today?", and when I went to the gym I saw that it had been set up for spectators.
Four or five schools participated, so most people spent more time watching than playing. In fact, some people came just to watch. Most principals didn't play, but ours is cool so he did. It was kind of interesting watching new people trickling in and seeing how people reacted. When a new principal came, everyone had to stand up until they sat down, even the other principals. Here are the backs of some principals' heads:
The one in orange and stripes is the principal at my main school. Overall the games were fun and lighthearted, but it did seem like people were taking it more seriously than our weekly "practice".
Another week, when I was at my Wednesday school, I got a call from my main school telling me not to come back for volleyball practice like usual. Instead, they would be coming by my travel school to pick me up, since they were all going hiking on a mountain on the same island as my travel school. Like so many things that I would have assumed were optional, this was not presented as a choice. So, I hiked with the teachers from my main school for almost four hours. It was great exercise and the views were amazing, but it was also pretty steep in parts and it lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. I recorded some of the views for posterity:
More recently, I finally got to go on one of these adventures with the teachers from my travel school. Before, the principal had always told my coteacher that since I wasn't technically an employee of their school, I shouldn't be involved in their activities. I have no idea why it was different this time, but I was invited to go fishing for octopus after school. It was cold, but totally a lovely day for it (not that I'd know):
I managed to catch one whole octopus! (And yes, most of them were this size):
It looks limp because, while I totally did actually manage to catch an octopus (a lot of the teachers caught more than 10), I tossed it in the bucket with the rest of them really quickly, and then we fished one back out later because my coteacher wanted to take a picture of me with one.
They brought a kerosene stove on the boat, and some of the teachers cooked the octopus right there while the rest of us fished. We ate it boiled with a tangy and spicy sauce. Sometimes we have cold octopus legs as part of lunch, and they were definitely better hot and fresh, but it was a lot more octopus than I ever would have assumed I would eat in my lifetime, let alone within a few hours. After everyone was done fishing we brought the octopus back to the school, which they tried to make as complicated as they could:
They had a will to live, and they were continuously pushing the lid off the bucked and crawling out. The Korean teachers would calmly grab them and toss them back in, someone would remember to keep their foot on the lid for half a minute, and then they'd go to do something else and the octopus would start escaping again. Once we got back to school, they fired up more kerosene burners and we had a little cookout:
They prepared them all sorts of ways. Most of them were boiled, but some were chopped up raw (and alive) and mixed with some kind of spicy vinegar sauce into a sort of ceviche. Most of the boiled octopus were also eaten straight with a little bit of one of a few sauces, but some of them went into some special dishes people were making, like some kind of soup and what I will flexibly call a salad. I had more than my fill, but they didn't like it whenever I tried to stop eating. Everyone else was eating continuously, and every time I stopped they'd ask if I didn't like it or tell me how expensive octopus is. They were especially fond of the heads, but I couldn't stomach more than one. It was okay at first, just kind of chewy and gummy like the legs, but then I could feel whatever kind of membrane the brain was encased in pop in my mouth before it was filled with a warm goo that was something like pate, but with a stronger flavor, as well as the awareness that I was eating octopus brain. So I didn't have a second.
I don't usually like surprise adventures being thrown at me, which my dad will be able to confirm, but these kinds of things have helped to break up the monotony of the workweek. If I'm dragged along for any other cool adventures with the teachers, I'll be sure to tell you guys about them. Thanks for reading, and I hope you're all well!
One of the things that makes my working environment interesting is all of the non-work related stuff that the teachers and other school staff get up to together. Based on my conversations with the other foreign teachers, it sounds like it's this way at most schools, too. I may have already mentioned that most Wednesdays we play volleyball. Well, a while back that culminated in an inter-mural tournament with a few of the other schools in the area (we did not make a noteworthy performance.) Like so many other things, this was a complete surprise to me. Earlier in the day I thought to myself, "I wonder if we're going to be playing volleyball today?", and when I went to the gym I saw that it had been set up for spectators.
Four or five schools participated, so most people spent more time watching than playing. In fact, some people came just to watch. Most principals didn't play, but ours is cool so he did. It was kind of interesting watching new people trickling in and seeing how people reacted. When a new principal came, everyone had to stand up until they sat down, even the other principals. Here are the backs of some principals' heads:
The one in orange and stripes is the principal at my main school. Overall the games were fun and lighthearted, but it did seem like people were taking it more seriously than our weekly "practice".
Another week, when I was at my Wednesday school, I got a call from my main school telling me not to come back for volleyball practice like usual. Instead, they would be coming by my travel school to pick me up, since they were all going hiking on a mountain on the same island as my travel school. Like so many things that I would have assumed were optional, this was not presented as a choice. So, I hiked with the teachers from my main school for almost four hours. It was great exercise and the views were amazing, but it was also pretty steep in parts and it lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. I recorded some of the views for posterity:
More recently, I finally got to go on one of these adventures with the teachers from my travel school. Before, the principal had always told my coteacher that since I wasn't technically an employee of their school, I shouldn't be involved in their activities. I have no idea why it was different this time, but I was invited to go fishing for octopus after school. It was cold, but totally a lovely day for it (not that I'd know):
I managed to catch one whole octopus! (And yes, most of them were this size):
It looks limp because, while I totally did actually manage to catch an octopus (a lot of the teachers caught more than 10), I tossed it in the bucket with the rest of them really quickly, and then we fished one back out later because my coteacher wanted to take a picture of me with one.
They brought a kerosene stove on the boat, and some of the teachers cooked the octopus right there while the rest of us fished. We ate it boiled with a tangy and spicy sauce. Sometimes we have cold octopus legs as part of lunch, and they were definitely better hot and fresh, but it was a lot more octopus than I ever would have assumed I would eat in my lifetime, let alone within a few hours. After everyone was done fishing we brought the octopus back to the school, which they tried to make as complicated as they could:
They had a will to live, and they were continuously pushing the lid off the bucked and crawling out. The Korean teachers would calmly grab them and toss them back in, someone would remember to keep their foot on the lid for half a minute, and then they'd go to do something else and the octopus would start escaping again. Once we got back to school, they fired up more kerosene burners and we had a little cookout:
They prepared them all sorts of ways. Most of them were boiled, but some were chopped up raw (and alive) and mixed with some kind of spicy vinegar sauce into a sort of ceviche. Most of the boiled octopus were also eaten straight with a little bit of one of a few sauces, but some of them went into some special dishes people were making, like some kind of soup and what I will flexibly call a salad. I had more than my fill, but they didn't like it whenever I tried to stop eating. Everyone else was eating continuously, and every time I stopped they'd ask if I didn't like it or tell me how expensive octopus is. They were especially fond of the heads, but I couldn't stomach more than one. It was okay at first, just kind of chewy and gummy like the legs, but then I could feel whatever kind of membrane the brain was encased in pop in my mouth before it was filled with a warm goo that was something like pate, but with a stronger flavor, as well as the awareness that I was eating octopus brain. So I didn't have a second.
I don't usually like surprise adventures being thrown at me, which my dad will be able to confirm, but these kinds of things have helped to break up the monotony of the workweek. If I'm dragged along for any other cool adventures with the teachers, I'll be sure to tell you guys about them. Thanks for reading, and I hope you're all well!
Sunday, December 4, 2016
HanguGo!
Hi, everyone. Katy here. It's been a beautiful first week of December here in Goheung. Sunny, dry as a bone, and cooooold. When deciding what to write about this week, I looked back at previous posts, not wanting to repeat anything, and noticed that these blogs tend to break down into two types, tutorial-esque or story-esque. The last few have been more like a play by play of our day to day and I wanted to provide something more informative this week (since you will all be visiting us here someday, right?!). So Korean Language it is! In Korean, the name of the language is written 한국어 and would likely be Romanized something like han-gu-go (hence the title). As many of you know, I've been taking lessons, or more accurately, doing language-exchange with some of my Korean friends and it is really starting to pay off. I had a more-or-less successful conversation with my hairdresser today, which is a huge deal. You hardly notice how awkward it is to sit in a chair at scissor point until you can't communicate. As such, the ability to introduce myself, ask for the cut I wanted, and answer her questions about where I was from and what I did, was just about the most exciting thing that has happened all week.
So lets start with the basics. Korean has an alphabet of sorts, as we would be used to in English, with consonants and vowels totaling 24 "letters" or characters. Unlike English however, Korean characters are arranged into blocks that make up one syllable, rather than strung in a line to make a word. So take the name of the Korean language, 한국어, for example. You can see the blocks there, right? There appear to be three sections to the word, and in fact this is a three syllable word. Each block is made up of multiple characters though, as many as four, or as few as two. These letters are either above, below, or beside each other. This word then, 한국어, is made up of the characters ㅎㅏㄴㄱㅜㄱㅇㅓ respectively. So then, as you can see, you read each block by starting with the upper left corner, then upper right, then bottom (also left to right if there are multiple characters on the bottom).
A note on pronunciation. Unless you're Jamie, or you happen to have studied a little linguistics, the multiple "o" and "u" sounds above might seem redundant, and the fact that r and l are somehow the same character may seem strange. For clarification sake, the ㅗ character and ㅛ beside it are pronounced using the same "o" sound you would find in the phrase "oh boy," while the ㅓandㅕcharacters are the "o" sound in "coffee" or "bob." Hear the difference? Similarly, the ㅜand ㅠ characters make a "you" sound, while ㅡ makes a sound much more reminiscent of the noise one might make when the get punched in the gut. It's kind of a grunt of a noise... Unfortunately that's one of the harder characters to explain and with my minimal teaching skills, that's the best I can do. Then there's that strange r/l combo character. What's with that? Unless you've learned any Japanese, it may come as a surprise to you that those two noises are very similar, practically the same. And in fact, in Korean and Japanese, they simply are the same. Sure they make slightly different noises depending on where they are in a word (i.e. whether they are surrounded by vowels or consonants) but mostly the noises are interchangeable. Unfortunately that's all I'm going to be able to say on the subject, since it's just kind of hard to wrap your head around until you're using a language where that's the case. Just for fun, though, try saying out loud the noise "rl." Finally, see that circle on the bottom row? It doesn't have an English letter below it to indicate it's pronunciation, and that is because when it is at the end of a character block it is pronounced "ng" but when it is at the beginning, it is a silent letter, such as in the third character block (syllable) of 한국어.
Other complications of note in the Korean language are the formality levels. If you've learned Spanish at any point, you may know that if you are speaking to an elder, professional, or stranger you would say "you" using "usted" rather than "tu" (which is more informal/familiar). Korean has the same kind of thing in it's conjugations, except that there are more than two of these formality levels. There are usually three-ish, in most cases. There are different endings for words if you are talking to an elder, a stranger, a friend, or a child. An example is saying "hello." I will Romanize them syllable by syllable for convenience sake, after writing the Korean.
So lets start with the basics. Korean has an alphabet of sorts, as we would be used to in English, with consonants and vowels totaling 24 "letters" or characters. Unlike English however, Korean characters are arranged into blocks that make up one syllable, rather than strung in a line to make a word. So take the name of the Korean language, 한국어, for example. You can see the blocks there, right? There appear to be three sections to the word, and in fact this is a three syllable word. Each block is made up of multiple characters though, as many as four, or as few as two. These letters are either above, below, or beside each other. This word then, 한국어, is made up of the characters ㅎㅏㄴㄱㅜㄱㅇㅓ respectively. So then, as you can see, you read each block by starting with the upper left corner, then upper right, then bottom (also left to right if there are multiple characters on the bottom).
A note on pronunciation. Unless you're Jamie, or you happen to have studied a little linguistics, the multiple "o" and "u" sounds above might seem redundant, and the fact that r and l are somehow the same character may seem strange. For clarification sake, the ㅗ character and ㅛ beside it are pronounced using the same "o" sound you would find in the phrase "oh boy," while the ㅓandㅕcharacters are the "o" sound in "coffee" or "bob." Hear the difference? Similarly, the ㅜand ㅠ characters make a "you" sound, while ㅡ makes a sound much more reminiscent of the noise one might make when the get punched in the gut. It's kind of a grunt of a noise... Unfortunately that's one of the harder characters to explain and with my minimal teaching skills, that's the best I can do. Then there's that strange r/l combo character. What's with that? Unless you've learned any Japanese, it may come as a surprise to you that those two noises are very similar, practically the same. And in fact, in Korean and Japanese, they simply are the same. Sure they make slightly different noises depending on where they are in a word (i.e. whether they are surrounded by vowels or consonants) but mostly the noises are interchangeable. Unfortunately that's all I'm going to be able to say on the subject, since it's just kind of hard to wrap your head around until you're using a language where that's the case. Just for fun, though, try saying out loud the noise "rl." Finally, see that circle on the bottom row? It doesn't have an English letter below it to indicate it's pronunciation, and that is because when it is at the end of a character block it is pronounced "ng" but when it is at the beginning, it is a silent letter, such as in the third character block (syllable) of 한국어.
Other complications of note in the Korean language are the formality levels. If you've learned Spanish at any point, you may know that if you are speaking to an elder, professional, or stranger you would say "you" using "usted" rather than "tu" (which is more informal/familiar). Korean has the same kind of thing in it's conjugations, except that there are more than two of these formality levels. There are usually three-ish, in most cases. There are different endings for words if you are talking to an elder, a stranger, a friend, or a child. An example is saying "hello." I will Romanize them syllable by syllable for convenience sake, after writing the Korean.
- Hello (to a child or very close friend): 안녕 ahn-yong
- Hello (to a peer or stranger): 안녕하세요 ahn-yong-ha-say-yo
- Hello (to an elder or professional): 안녕하십니까 ahn-yong-ha-shim-nee-ka
Learning Korean as an American is rather complicated in a way that learning another Germanic or Romance language isn't. The completely different character alphabet, word structure, and sentence form make for a unique challenge. I have been studying, rather informally (see my notebook above), but diligently, for three months now, and I can eavesdrop on conversations and get a theme, but no details. I can have routine conversations with friends who speak slowly for me, and I can piece my own sentences together at a painstakingly slow pace resulting in a barely grammatically correct phrase. Having learned a language from scrap before, I can say this is a whole different world. The progress is real though, and the gratification of each step makes me think I might just be conversational within a year. Below is a sample screenshot from a recent chat with a Korean friend of mine. It's nifty for a few reasons. First, because it's mostly in Korean, and second, check out the little bit of English. It's neat how progressed her English is, that she types things like "Im" but still spells out slang phonetically in the case of "ganna."
While this hardly scratches the surface of the language, I think that's about all it makes sense to include in a post like this. I don't want to bore anyone to death, but I'd love for you all to have the same respect for the beauty, uniqueness, and complexity of the language that I do. I must say, the more I learn, the more I love it. As with any language foreign to your own, it provides a way to say things you simply can't express the same way in English. As a tool of expression, language offers a way to convey how you feel, perceive, and interact with the world, and, each individual language opens up new options in that respect.
Hope everyone has a great week!
-K
Sunday, November 27, 2016
A Week of Celebrations
Happy last few days of November, everyone. It's really feeling like winter here in Goheung, marked by temperatures that hover around freezing, and dry sunny days. Many friends living farther north have even posted live videos of the snow coming down in Seoul. As for Jeonnam, though, we're just enjoying our 온돌 (floor heater) and that super sweet Korean coffee.
It was great to message and Skype so many people this week for Thanksgiving. We have had a lot to celebrate in the last few days, not the least of which was my friend 혜란's decision to close her bakery. While I'll miss having such a cozy space to study Korean and enjoy her sweet treats, it is definitely the best move for her, and we celebrated the best way we knew how, by putting that shop to work in it's last days. We made bulk 유자 (citron) tea, preserved in a number of jars to give to friends and stock up our homes for the winter. The best part was knowing that the 유자 fruit came fresh from our friend 성미's garden. I then used the oven at the bakery to make biscuits for the first time since arriving in Korea. It was so nice to have a taste of home and treat the girls to some American pastries. Cooking together has easily become one of the simplest and most fun ways to bond, and, the look on our faces when we sink our teeth into something delicious breaks the language barrier for that moment in such a sweet way. The girls took some pictures while my hands were all sticky, so you can see the process.
Then, of course, there was Thanksgiving day itself. Jamie had to work of course, since the holiday isn't observed in Korea, but we made the most of it when he got home. For dinner we had mashed potatoes, rosemary chicken, mozzarella, and dried cranberries on toast, and what is essentially a Little Debbie snack that was called "Fresh Baked Apple Pie." We washed it all down with a bottle of wine, and set the mood with a candle to really get that Thanksgiving feel. All in all, the meal was delicious, and it felt good to mark the occasion, even wasn't the traditional style we are used to.
Then this weekend, we gathered with the rest of the foreign teachers for a party at 성미's house. Though I have been to a few family's homes here in Korea, they have all either been condos, apartments, or modern style homes downtown. 성미's house was the first traditional style Korean home I have ever been to, and a few things are of note from that experience. First of all, Koreans are, by and large, shorter than Westerners (especially older generations). As such, doorways in traditional homes are mostly too short for even me to walk through without bending over. The ceilings inside are tall enough for me, but notably shorter than the standard 8ft. ceiling of a modern western home. Old wood beams frame the structure of the house, including several across the roof which was a traditional, curved Asian shape of roof. The feature that added the most character to the style of the house indoors was that the doors between rooms are made of many small wood frames, and backed in paper. They hold in no heat, and are simply meant as a visual block, rather than a sound or temperature seal. I didn't take photos, as it seemed rude in the context, but I would suggest googling traditional Korean home interiors to get a better idea of what I am describing here. It was very different than I am used to, and seemed both beautiful and difficult to live in for various reasons. The party itself, was held in a separate 2-room building on the property, one with heating and more modern features, including higher ceilings. We had a traditional Korean meal, and celebrated at the end of the night with Scotch and chocolate cake "for thanksgiving" according to the Koreans that hosted us. It was a really sweet gesture, a fantastic cultural experience, and a great opportunity to be surrounded with people on a holiday weekend that many of us weren't prepared to be alone.
p.s. in the photo above, 혜란 is the one lighting the cake, and is also the one who made that beautiful, delicious, polka-dotted creation there! And the lovely lady beside her in the striped sweater is our wonderful host, 성미. 💓
Last but not least, was the celebration of the end of the semester for many students in Korea. A performance at the cultural center let them showcase all sorts of dances, songs, and stories they've been working on. It was a treat for me to see a traditional drum number, and traditional song in particular. Check it out!
As the week of celebrations wraps up, I'm looking forward to the next holidays on our agenda, the Solstice, and Christmas! I've even started crafting decorations (can you guess what these few supplies will turn into?)!
Have a great end of November, stay warm, and as always, you can post comments here on the blog with any questions you have and we will get back to you.
Cheers,
K
It was great to message and Skype so many people this week for Thanksgiving. We have had a lot to celebrate in the last few days, not the least of which was my friend 혜란's decision to close her bakery. While I'll miss having such a cozy space to study Korean and enjoy her sweet treats, it is definitely the best move for her, and we celebrated the best way we knew how, by putting that shop to work in it's last days. We made bulk 유자 (citron) tea, preserved in a number of jars to give to friends and stock up our homes for the winter. The best part was knowing that the 유자 fruit came fresh from our friend 성미's garden. I then used the oven at the bakery to make biscuits for the first time since arriving in Korea. It was so nice to have a taste of home and treat the girls to some American pastries. Cooking together has easily become one of the simplest and most fun ways to bond, and, the look on our faces when we sink our teeth into something delicious breaks the language barrier for that moment in such a sweet way. The girls took some pictures while my hands were all sticky, so you can see the process.
Then, of course, there was Thanksgiving day itself. Jamie had to work of course, since the holiday isn't observed in Korea, but we made the most of it when he got home. For dinner we had mashed potatoes, rosemary chicken, mozzarella, and dried cranberries on toast, and what is essentially a Little Debbie snack that was called "Fresh Baked Apple Pie." We washed it all down with a bottle of wine, and set the mood with a candle to really get that Thanksgiving feel. All in all, the meal was delicious, and it felt good to mark the occasion, even wasn't the traditional style we are used to.
Then this weekend, we gathered with the rest of the foreign teachers for a party at 성미's house. Though I have been to a few family's homes here in Korea, they have all either been condos, apartments, or modern style homes downtown. 성미's house was the first traditional style Korean home I have ever been to, and a few things are of note from that experience. First of all, Koreans are, by and large, shorter than Westerners (especially older generations). As such, doorways in traditional homes are mostly too short for even me to walk through without bending over. The ceilings inside are tall enough for me, but notably shorter than the standard 8ft. ceiling of a modern western home. Old wood beams frame the structure of the house, including several across the roof which was a traditional, curved Asian shape of roof. The feature that added the most character to the style of the house indoors was that the doors between rooms are made of many small wood frames, and backed in paper. They hold in no heat, and are simply meant as a visual block, rather than a sound or temperature seal. I didn't take photos, as it seemed rude in the context, but I would suggest googling traditional Korean home interiors to get a better idea of what I am describing here. It was very different than I am used to, and seemed both beautiful and difficult to live in for various reasons. The party itself, was held in a separate 2-room building on the property, one with heating and more modern features, including higher ceilings. We had a traditional Korean meal, and celebrated at the end of the night with Scotch and chocolate cake "for thanksgiving" according to the Koreans that hosted us. It was a really sweet gesture, a fantastic cultural experience, and a great opportunity to be surrounded with people on a holiday weekend that many of us weren't prepared to be alone.
Last but not least, was the celebration of the end of the semester for many students in Korea. A performance at the cultural center let them showcase all sorts of dances, songs, and stories they've been working on. It was a treat for me to see a traditional drum number, and traditional song in particular. Check it out!
As the week of celebrations wraps up, I'm looking forward to the next holidays on our agenda, the Solstice, and Christmas! I've even started crafting decorations (can you guess what these few supplies will turn into?)!
Have a great end of November, stay warm, and as always, you can post comments here on the blog with any questions you have and we will get back to you.
Cheers,
K
Monday, November 21, 2016
Being Social
Katy, here. I'll start off by acknowledging that I'm a day late this week. But with good reason! There was a Harvest festival event at church that kept me later than usual yesterday, so I didn't have time to post. Here we are though, less that 24 hours later, to update everyone on the going's on.
It's been a great week here in Goheung. We've been feeling more and more at home and settled, between the people we know and the places we frequent. This week in particular was extra home-y, as we participated in the community more than we have previously.
First, last Saturday I made a home-cooked Korean meal for our fellow expats. As full-time workers, they've had significantly less time to play with the cuisine and explore the city, and I feel a bit like the resident housewife for all of us. So I introduced everyone to the fortress park up by the temple where we enjoyed 비빔국수 (mixed noodles), persimmons, grapes, and barley water. Barley water is often served in place of plain water here in both restaurants and homes. It is made by boiling barley bags with water and chilling it to room temperature. It is supposed to be more hydrating than water (somehow) and has a bit of a grain-y flavor that appeals those whose diet is mostly based on rice. It was a fun project for me to cook for everyone, and gave me a lot of satisfaction to see everyone enjoying the food. In addition it was a nice way to sit around and get to know the newest member of the community, Neng, who is a recently arrived ESL teacher. Here's a picture, after we'd polished off most of the meal.
It's been a great week here in Goheung. We've been feeling more and more at home and settled, between the people we know and the places we frequent. This week in particular was extra home-y, as we participated in the community more than we have previously.
First, last Saturday I made a home-cooked Korean meal for our fellow expats. As full-time workers, they've had significantly less time to play with the cuisine and explore the city, and I feel a bit like the resident housewife for all of us. So I introduced everyone to the fortress park up by the temple where we enjoyed 비빔국수 (mixed noodles), persimmons, grapes, and barley water. Barley water is often served in place of plain water here in both restaurants and homes. It is made by boiling barley bags with water and chilling it to room temperature. It is supposed to be more hydrating than water (somehow) and has a bit of a grain-y flavor that appeals those whose diet is mostly based on rice. It was a fun project for me to cook for everyone, and gave me a lot of satisfaction to see everyone enjoying the food. In addition it was a nice way to sit around and get to know the newest member of the community, Neng, who is a recently arrived ESL teacher. Here's a picture, after we'd polished off most of the meal.
Then Wednesday, Jamie's co-workers at Podu middle school (not the school he was teaching at that day) came to pick him up early. They planned an excursion and spent the next three hours on a long, winding, a beautiful hike. Tired and hungry, they then went out to eat downtown Goheung, which was good new for Jamie, as usually he would've had to take the bus home. While the whole adventure tired him, it has become increasingly clear that the work culture in Korea requires a certain friendship between co-workers, built on shared experiences. Days like this help him bond and be seen as one of the team at Podu middle school. This is particularly important as it is his main school, the one that signed his contract, and the one we'll need on our side if we want to stay another year. Below are the pictures Jamie sent me of the trek.
Last but not least (for this week at least) I had the opportunity to accompany a friend of mine to see her son's school recital. He is in the local elementary school and as such, I ran into many other parents and neighbors that I've grown to know well. Many of which were thrilled to show off their kid's part in the performances, which took up about three hours in total. There were dances, songs, the band played, and theater performances. It was fun as well to see the numbers that my friends, other expat teachers, had helped put together for their students. One was entirely in Chinese, thanks to Yu Jou, a Chinese foreigner we often go bowling with. It was a lot of fun to support everyone, the kids, friends, and parents alike and I feel like it helped me present myself as part of the community. Aren't they cute?!
Relationships are incredibly important to social culture here, and these kinds of activities help people see past our poor Korean skills, western faces, and awkward behavior. Instead recognizing us as part of the network of people that make up Goheung. It is extra important in a place like this one, a rural, smaller city, to put effort into these relationships, since we don't have the benefit of getting lost in the crowd. In general, the language and behavior all revolves around preserving the social hierarchy and prioritizing loyalty. These guidelines make it extra exciting when you not only successfully establish yourself in a network, but follow the social expectations well enough to be part of local's perceived community.
We will be celebrating Thanksgiving next week with a party, co-hosted by my two closest friends (Koreans), and myself for the other foreigners in town, Americans and otherwise. We won't have a turkey, but we will certainly enjoy the company. Pictures to come!
-K
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Autumn in Korea
Hi, everyone! Katy, here. It's solidly autumn here in Goheung and we've got the brisk temperatures, colorful mountainsides, and selfies to prove it. As I promised last week, I'll share this week about our trip to Haenam that we took about two weeks ago, as well as a few pictures and updates from our day-to-day lives here in Goheung.
Haenam is the southernmost county of Korea's mainland. As I've mentioned, there are always islands further south, but this is as far as you can go without hopping in a boat or crossing a bridge. The county also boasts the 4th highest peak in Korea, and beautiful 360 degree views from the top. To get there, as we were not up for the rather strenuous hike, we took a 10 minute cable car ride from the base of the mountain. As a side note, Korean's enthusiasm is easily encouraged, and, at each tower that the cable car passed, a slight swing would set the passengers oohing and aahing which we found adorably amusing. From the top of the cable car, there was about a 15 minute climb up a pretty impressive and steep staircase to reach the platform at the highest point of the mountain. The temperature difference between the base and the peak was pretty drastic. We were really cold at first, but the climb up the stairs to the lookout warmed us up quickly. And what a view!
Haenam is the southernmost county of Korea's mainland. As I've mentioned, there are always islands further south, but this is as far as you can go without hopping in a boat or crossing a bridge. The county also boasts the 4th highest peak in Korea, and beautiful 360 degree views from the top. To get there, as we were not up for the rather strenuous hike, we took a 10 minute cable car ride from the base of the mountain. As a side note, Korean's enthusiasm is easily encouraged, and, at each tower that the cable car passed, a slight swing would set the passengers oohing and aahing which we found adorably amusing. From the top of the cable car, there was about a 15 minute climb up a pretty impressive and steep staircase to reach the platform at the highest point of the mountain. The temperature difference between the base and the peak was pretty drastic. We were really cold at first, but the climb up the stairs to the lookout warmed us up quickly. And what a view!
Aside from the amazing view, the circular platform at the top also had a couple neat features, such as a directional arrow approximately every 15 degrees around the circle that showed what countries were in that direction. There was also a measuring stick that let you know just how tall you were at this height. I was about 642.5 meters tall that day. Pretty nifty!
There were multiple lookout points, each offering what I assume were inspirational quotes or phrases in Korean, made out of rebar. When we finally cooled off again and headed back down to the cable car, we were pretty windblown and tired.
At this point I should backtrack a little. I believe I forgot to mention that this whole trip was with a church I have been attending for the past month or so. It is an English speaking service in Suncheon that draws a crowd from the US, South Africa, and the Philippines mostly. Every season, this group of about 30, rents a bus and travels around for a day. So our next, and final stop on the tour with this church group was Mihwangsa Temple. Mihwangsa is an absolutely beautiful and incredibly expansive temple grounds that is open now as a tourist attraction. We didn't have long to spend there, though I would have happily speant a few hours at least.
There were also a number of really interesting memorial (maybe grave?) sites on the temple grounds. I apologize for the rough quality of the pictures, but it was starting to get dark at that point in the day and my phone's camera doesn't handle low light well.
So that was our trip to Haenam. The fall colors hadn't really broken out yet since the weather wasn't being all that cold regularly yet. Recently however, the temperatures have dropped quite a bit and the colors, especially here in Goheung have really popped. This is a picture I took just today as Jamie and I went for a walk up the mountain to get a little exercise.
In general, fall here is beautiful. The weather has cooled off and we do have to use the heat at home sometimes. But autumn here is crisp and cloudless for the most part, so it's been hard to lament the chill. A note on heating in Korean homes - most places use 온돌 which is a style of heating that uses the same heater that heats your water for a shower. This heater then pumps the heat beneath the flooring such that the floors heat up in this really cozy, luxurious way. I've been known to get a bit chilly sitting on the bed, and crawl down onto the floor to lay down and warm up. It's very different, but we really like it. We're definitely making a note of it for any potential future homes back stateside.
That's all for this post. I hope everyone back home is having a nice autumn (though I hear there are some bad fires out east). Stay safe and have a great upcoming week.
-K
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Technical Dificulties
Katy, here.
I'm sorry to say that it has been a rough week for computers in the Biesanz household. My laptop (the one we use for blogging) got a big crack in the touchscreen and was so glitchy that I could not so much as open the control panel. Unfortunately this means that I couldn't prepare my usual post this week, since the computer has just now (late on Sunday night Korea-time) been fixed. I apologize for the lack of an update, but I assure you all, next week's will have lots of pictures and a fun story from an autumn trip, strange heating systems in Korea, and more.
Sneak peak picture from the trip!...
We are, of course, still well and enjoying the beautiful fall weather here.
Have a great week everyone!
-Katy
I'm sorry to say that it has been a rough week for computers in the Biesanz household. My laptop (the one we use for blogging) got a big crack in the touchscreen and was so glitchy that I could not so much as open the control panel. Unfortunately this means that I couldn't prepare my usual post this week, since the computer has just now (late on Sunday night Korea-time) been fixed. I apologize for the lack of an update, but I assure you all, next week's will have lots of pictures and a fun story from an autumn trip, strange heating systems in Korea, and more.
Sneak peak picture from the trip!...
We are, of course, still well and enjoying the beautiful fall weather here.
Have a great week everyone!
-Katy
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Oddities
Katy, here.
Happy Halloween weekend, everyone! As a sort of follow up to last week's post about the difficulties in our new social environment, I'd like to talk some about the oddities of our physical environment. It is amazing how and agglomeration of little things in your world can create a completely foreign feeling atmosphere. You know, the kind of thing that makes you look around and say "we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto" and yet not be able to point to an elephant in the room as the culprit. Fortunately these differences in our physical environment don't have the same awkward, frustrating effect on us that social differences do. Usually it's just a matter of, "well would you look at that," or a laugh that just bubbles over when you trip and fall into a brick wall just to realize that for some reason, the brick is made of foam, and if this were the US you'd have a huge scar to remind you just how clumsy you are. But not here. Chances are, if you are indoors, the brick is fake, and squishy. As a matter of fact, you can buy this stuff in bulk at Daiso (the local version of a dollar store) in a variety of nauseating neon colors if you so choose. Check it out! You can even see in the picture below the jagged edge of this wall, which happened to be in a restaurant, where they cut it with ordinary scissors to make it fit the desired dimensions. Weird, right?
Along the same lines, there is the roll out hardwood that is a favorite for indoor flooring here. Our apartment, for example, is completely floored with this roll out, hardwood-looking laminate. It is similar to laminate in the US that is made to look like a tile floor. Despite this experience with laminate flooring, the faux hardwood still tickles me when I see it curling up in the corners.
Other examples of these environmental oddities include that Korean towns and cities are too cool for straight lines on their roads downtown. These zig zags are consistent throughout most places. And it's not just the creative lines on the road that make driving fun here, it's also the color. Korean roads are often painted red. I'm sure this has some purpose, but from my perspective, it's just a nice uplifting color. There's also the lack of police to pull you over. Korean police don't patrol the roads in hopes of catching that random bad driver, but rather, driving laws are camera enforced so that if you are speeding, you just get a ticket no matter what, not only if you happen upon an officer. This keeps people's driving relatively in check.
Off the road and in the comfort of your own home, there is the fact that chairs are rather uncommon in a typical household. Similarly to dryers and ovens, standard western tables and chairs are reserved for the well off who have a nice big home to accommodate such luxury. Here we generally sit on the floor, on a pillow, or the less common "floor chair." Jamie and I have invested in these floor chairs for our own apartment, as a full sized desk and chair would completely block the entryway. Sitting on the floor has its pros and cons. Bad news first... this can be really hard on your knees, especially if you are not used to getting up and down all the time and sitting cross-legged for long periods of time. The good news is that the resulting ache-y-ness has the great effect of getting you up off your butt and out of the house more often that one is usually inherently encouraged to do when sitting comfortably in a plush desk chair. I often do work that necessitates a computer at the local coffee shop or outside, which increases the likelihood of running into people, socializing, and budgeting time wisely (as you aren't going to pay for coffee just to check facebook). Restaurants and coffee shops generally have standard western chairs and tables, at least in part of the facility. Many places offer half and half floor or table seating. Large parties of people are generally required to sit in floor seating areas, however, as there usually aren't enough big tables to accommodate crowds. An interesting effect of growing up accustomed to sitting on floors, is that there are these odd "bench" tables that are in many parks, and on sidewalks. These are large square platforms raised just a foot of the ground which people sit cross-legged on like a picnic blanket. They are used for socializing, eating together, or just taking a rest. Regardless, you generally slip your shoes off to sit cross-legged on these, facing the center so to talk together easiest. Notice in the picture below that although there are picnic tables provided, Koreans seem to prefer these bench tables as a form of seating.
There are plenty more of these differences between the built environment in a Korean community as opposed to an American community, but those above are the most amusing (or just the ones I happen to have pictures of).
I hope everyone has a great Halloween!
-Katy
Happy Halloween weekend, everyone! As a sort of follow up to last week's post about the difficulties in our new social environment, I'd like to talk some about the oddities of our physical environment. It is amazing how and agglomeration of little things in your world can create a completely foreign feeling atmosphere. You know, the kind of thing that makes you look around and say "we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto" and yet not be able to point to an elephant in the room as the culprit. Fortunately these differences in our physical environment don't have the same awkward, frustrating effect on us that social differences do. Usually it's just a matter of, "well would you look at that," or a laugh that just bubbles over when you trip and fall into a brick wall just to realize that for some reason, the brick is made of foam, and if this were the US you'd have a huge scar to remind you just how clumsy you are. But not here. Chances are, if you are indoors, the brick is fake, and squishy. As a matter of fact, you can buy this stuff in bulk at Daiso (the local version of a dollar store) in a variety of nauseating neon colors if you so choose. Check it out! You can even see in the picture below the jagged edge of this wall, which happened to be in a restaurant, where they cut it with ordinary scissors to make it fit the desired dimensions. Weird, right?
Along the same lines, there is the roll out hardwood that is a favorite for indoor flooring here. Our apartment, for example, is completely floored with this roll out, hardwood-looking laminate. It is similar to laminate in the US that is made to look like a tile floor. Despite this experience with laminate flooring, the faux hardwood still tickles me when I see it curling up in the corners.
Other examples of these environmental oddities include that Korean towns and cities are too cool for straight lines on their roads downtown. These zig zags are consistent throughout most places. And it's not just the creative lines on the road that make driving fun here, it's also the color. Korean roads are often painted red. I'm sure this has some purpose, but from my perspective, it's just a nice uplifting color. There's also the lack of police to pull you over. Korean police don't patrol the roads in hopes of catching that random bad driver, but rather, driving laws are camera enforced so that if you are speeding, you just get a ticket no matter what, not only if you happen upon an officer. This keeps people's driving relatively in check.
Off the road and in the comfort of your own home, there is the fact that chairs are rather uncommon in a typical household. Similarly to dryers and ovens, standard western tables and chairs are reserved for the well off who have a nice big home to accommodate such luxury. Here we generally sit on the floor, on a pillow, or the less common "floor chair." Jamie and I have invested in these floor chairs for our own apartment, as a full sized desk and chair would completely block the entryway. Sitting on the floor has its pros and cons. Bad news first... this can be really hard on your knees, especially if you are not used to getting up and down all the time and sitting cross-legged for long periods of time. The good news is that the resulting ache-y-ness has the great effect of getting you up off your butt and out of the house more often that one is usually inherently encouraged to do when sitting comfortably in a plush desk chair. I often do work that necessitates a computer at the local coffee shop or outside, which increases the likelihood of running into people, socializing, and budgeting time wisely (as you aren't going to pay for coffee just to check facebook). Restaurants and coffee shops generally have standard western chairs and tables, at least in part of the facility. Many places offer half and half floor or table seating. Large parties of people are generally required to sit in floor seating areas, however, as there usually aren't enough big tables to accommodate crowds. An interesting effect of growing up accustomed to sitting on floors, is that there are these odd "bench" tables that are in many parks, and on sidewalks. These are large square platforms raised just a foot of the ground which people sit cross-legged on like a picnic blanket. They are used for socializing, eating together, or just taking a rest. Regardless, you generally slip your shoes off to sit cross-legged on these, facing the center so to talk together easiest. Notice in the picture below that although there are picnic tables provided, Koreans seem to prefer these bench tables as a form of seating.
I hope everyone has a great Halloween!
-Katy
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Terrible Two's
Katy, here!
Well it's the third week of October, and that means we're celebrating two months in our new home. Hooray! But also that brings new meaning to the phrase "terrible two's." Mind you it's not too terrible, but life here these days does have a habit of being awkward, odd, embarrassing, and generally... oops.
We're at that point where we are settled enough to feel at home and let our guard down a bit. We've grown comfortable enough that we don't recite cultural norms to ourselves and do a little pep talk in the mirror before we leave the house (or maybe that was just me). But with the positive aspects of that familiarity comes the realization that there are cultural faux pas we can't get away with anymore. We aren't new and novel foreigners anymore. We're part of the landscape and we are expected to act as such.
Manners are just as important here as anywhere, and, just as subconscious here as anywhere. Suddenly we realize just how flippant it is perceived to give or receive anything (seriously anything) with less than two hands. We're embarrassed when we get the impression that the formality of our speech was inappropriate. And we recoil when pointed at. These and more are the things we are learning to adopt without thinking into our social interactions.
Other cultural mannerisms are much less awkward and simply take some getting used to. For example, when beckoning someone in the United States, you would put your hand in front of you, palm up and wave them over with your wrist or arm. Here, to draw someone closer, you put your hand in front of you at arms length, palm down, and open and close your hand such that you could grasp something below if there were something there to grab.
You also bow in much the same manner that we wave in the US, to say hello, but also to say thank you and even "okay" or "I understand." Bowing to someone older than you? Make sure your bow is ever so slightly deeper than theirs to indicate the humility of your social position relative to them.
Another odd interaction that took some getting used to was that here, when in conversation with a Korean, it is appropriate to show you are listening by uttering a continuous string of "mmmm" or "ahhhh ahhh" rather than the periodic nod, "yeah" or "sure" we mutter while conversing in the US. This can be distracting and seem rude to foreigners (like you are being annoyingly interrupted), but is simply how one affirms that they are engaged in what you are saying here.
And finally, there is the acceptance of what I perceive to be awkward questions. For example, I was offended the first time a Korean friend of mine said "you look tired, are you okay" to me when I came to visit one day. My thoughts included "do I look that bad?" and "jeez what a way to greet me." I got over myself pretty quickly as I picked up on how common it was to make these seemingly offensive accusations, and even talked with my friend about what they mean by it. She told me that it was supposed to be flattering, because it let you know, when greeted, that you were cared for. "You look hungry", or "you look tired" seem to simply be high-context communication mechanisms for "I'm interested in you" or "I care how you are feeling," rather than directly asking "how are you?"
These may seem like trivial things, but they are only the tip of the iceberg as far as learning how to behave in public. Taken individually, none are too extreme or difficult to get used to, but as a package deal, it can be like memorizing a long list of vocabulary terms all at once and risking offending someone if you don't manage to keep them all in mind all the time.
It can be so easy to slip up in the most innocent seeming way. I'll share a story that Jamie brought home this week from school in which he made "a terrible mistake" according to his co-teacher. The word terrible makes it seem like he really screwed up, and, I expected a much worse story when he called me, flustered and frustrated at having been scolded. But what happened was simply this; he picked up a whiteboard marker to write on the board with during class, and upon realizing it was dead, tossed it into the trash can. Granted, the trash can was a little ways away, so the toss required some force, but there was certainly no emotion behind it on his end. Now we've all seen a professor or a teacher do this, toss the marker away. But according to his co-teacher, it seemed like an act of anger. Like throwing the marker was a temper tantrum he threw momentarily due to his rage that it was dried out. In hindsight, Korean culture is very uncomfortable with excessive emotion, especially anger, in public. So if he scowled or furrowed his brow at all when the marker didn't work, before tossing it to the trash can a few feet away, it could easily have been perceived as hostile. But coming from our own cultural context, this seems perfectly innocent. Now we know, I suppose. As his co-teacher explained, the only polite way to throw something away is to gently place it in a trash bin (at least in public).
Okay, so I acknowledge that this post is significantly less fun than the previous ones, if only for it's lack of pictures. But then, the subject matter didn't really lend itself to pictures. For the sake of breaking up the wall of text, here's a picture of Jamie during our weekly Friday night embarrassment rehabilitation session... ;)
So here's to the terrible two's and our second month in Korea. I think it speaks volumes to say that, despite this particular phase of our transition, we are still loving it here, feeling more at home all the time, and making friends. We feel welcome and appreciated, even if it's peppered with a healthy dose of awkward cultural clashes from time to time.
Have a great week, everybody.
-K
Well it's the third week of October, and that means we're celebrating two months in our new home. Hooray! But also that brings new meaning to the phrase "terrible two's." Mind you it's not too terrible, but life here these days does have a habit of being awkward, odd, embarrassing, and generally... oops.
We're at that point where we are settled enough to feel at home and let our guard down a bit. We've grown comfortable enough that we don't recite cultural norms to ourselves and do a little pep talk in the mirror before we leave the house (or maybe that was just me). But with the positive aspects of that familiarity comes the realization that there are cultural faux pas we can't get away with anymore. We aren't new and novel foreigners anymore. We're part of the landscape and we are expected to act as such.
Manners are just as important here as anywhere, and, just as subconscious here as anywhere. Suddenly we realize just how flippant it is perceived to give or receive anything (seriously anything) with less than two hands. We're embarrassed when we get the impression that the formality of our speech was inappropriate. And we recoil when pointed at. These and more are the things we are learning to adopt without thinking into our social interactions.
Other cultural mannerisms are much less awkward and simply take some getting used to. For example, when beckoning someone in the United States, you would put your hand in front of you, palm up and wave them over with your wrist or arm. Here, to draw someone closer, you put your hand in front of you at arms length, palm down, and open and close your hand such that you could grasp something below if there were something there to grab.
You also bow in much the same manner that we wave in the US, to say hello, but also to say thank you and even "okay" or "I understand." Bowing to someone older than you? Make sure your bow is ever so slightly deeper than theirs to indicate the humility of your social position relative to them.
Another odd interaction that took some getting used to was that here, when in conversation with a Korean, it is appropriate to show you are listening by uttering a continuous string of "mmmm" or "ahhhh ahhh" rather than the periodic nod, "yeah" or "sure" we mutter while conversing in the US. This can be distracting and seem rude to foreigners (like you are being annoyingly interrupted), but is simply how one affirms that they are engaged in what you are saying here.
And finally, there is the acceptance of what I perceive to be awkward questions. For example, I was offended the first time a Korean friend of mine said "you look tired, are you okay" to me when I came to visit one day. My thoughts included "do I look that bad?" and "jeez what a way to greet me." I got over myself pretty quickly as I picked up on how common it was to make these seemingly offensive accusations, and even talked with my friend about what they mean by it. She told me that it was supposed to be flattering, because it let you know, when greeted, that you were cared for. "You look hungry", or "you look tired" seem to simply be high-context communication mechanisms for "I'm interested in you" or "I care how you are feeling," rather than directly asking "how are you?"
These may seem like trivial things, but they are only the tip of the iceberg as far as learning how to behave in public. Taken individually, none are too extreme or difficult to get used to, but as a package deal, it can be like memorizing a long list of vocabulary terms all at once and risking offending someone if you don't manage to keep them all in mind all the time.
It can be so easy to slip up in the most innocent seeming way. I'll share a story that Jamie brought home this week from school in which he made "a terrible mistake" according to his co-teacher. The word terrible makes it seem like he really screwed up, and, I expected a much worse story when he called me, flustered and frustrated at having been scolded. But what happened was simply this; he picked up a whiteboard marker to write on the board with during class, and upon realizing it was dead, tossed it into the trash can. Granted, the trash can was a little ways away, so the toss required some force, but there was certainly no emotion behind it on his end. Now we've all seen a professor or a teacher do this, toss the marker away. But according to his co-teacher, it seemed like an act of anger. Like throwing the marker was a temper tantrum he threw momentarily due to his rage that it was dried out. In hindsight, Korean culture is very uncomfortable with excessive emotion, especially anger, in public. So if he scowled or furrowed his brow at all when the marker didn't work, before tossing it to the trash can a few feet away, it could easily have been perceived as hostile. But coming from our own cultural context, this seems perfectly innocent. Now we know, I suppose. As his co-teacher explained, the only polite way to throw something away is to gently place it in a trash bin (at least in public).
Okay, so I acknowledge that this post is significantly less fun than the previous ones, if only for it's lack of pictures. But then, the subject matter didn't really lend itself to pictures. For the sake of breaking up the wall of text, here's a picture of Jamie during our weekly Friday night embarrassment rehabilitation session... ;)
So here's to the terrible two's and our second month in Korea. I think it speaks volumes to say that, despite this particular phase of our transition, we are still loving it here, feeling more at home all the time, and making friends. We feel welcome and appreciated, even if it's peppered with a healthy dose of awkward cultural clashes from time to time.
Have a great week, everybody.
-K
Sunday, October 16, 2016
냠 냠 Korean Cooking
Hi! You've got Katy this week. On the requests of a number of people, I'm going to spend this post talking about cooking in Korea, some of the recipes I make regularly, and the hurdles to learning how to feed yourself in a different culture. But first, the title. "냠 냠" is pronounced "nyam nyam" or "nyom nyom" and is onomatopoeia for eating tastey food (essentialy korean for "yum yum" in english). I know this, not because people sit around saying "냠 냠" when they eat, (actually they say "맛있어!" which traslates as "it's flavorful!") but because I have been reading a lot of baby books lately. You know, the kind with one word or phrase per page describing a super simple primary colored illustration? Like a "baby's first words" kind of book. Yeah, I check out ten of those per week in order to practice reading and learn new words. Ten is the max limit on books you can check out at the childrens library here. So many of the books I read have to do with food, because it's one of the most important vocabulary sets to my functionality here, and, most of them have 냠 냠 in the title or as part of the story.
Anyway, back to the point. So this week's post is about Korean cooking as an foriegner, and I'm super excited about it. As I've mentioned before, cooking at home requires me to do a great deal of grocery shopping at a variety of shops and markets, an endeavor that takes hours sometimes. The ingredients though, the longer I'm here, seem less and less foriegn. And usually, I'm only shopping for fresh food and perishables, as I now have a stocked pantry of korean staples to draw from. Speaking of which, I put a little effort into the pictures below to show you what a stocked pantry looks like in our home. See the description below the pictures for explanations.
Above we have the staples cabinet. The red arrow points to a mostly empty, dog-food sized bag of rice. The red X is a bulk bag of sesame seeds. The yellow labelled 1, 2, and 3 are dried kelp, seaweed, and large dried anchovies respectively. Then of course, underlined in red is a bag of good ol' wheat flour. The stack indicated by the yellow bracket are individual sized cups of instant ramen (J likes the red kind, I like the yellow). Then there is the bag marked by a red circle which is sesame powder. Beside that is a jar of skippy peanut butter marked by a yellow X. Now skippy isn't our favorite brand, but it is all that is sold here, and toast with peanut butter for breakfast goes a lot further than toast with jam. Below that is the rectangular jar of spam I thought I'd never buy. Spam is ridiculously common in Korea. It is used in rice bowls, kimbap, soup, and more. Meat can be pretty expensive here, so I get the impression it's the only affordable way many rural Koreans can have meat at home. Then marked in green with a 1, 2, 3, 4 is vinegar, sesame oil, and gochujang, or red pepper paste, and finally salt. Just above the sesame oil is a tall jar of buckwheat noodles indicated by the yellow arrow. Buckwheat noodles are as common if not more-so than the flour noodles we eat back home here. Lastly is a big box of cereal marked by a red asterix. With these staple ingredients I can make about 7-9 basic Korean recipes and keep us easily fed for weeks, only having to pop out for veggies and specialty ingredients. Of course there is always a bulk jar of kimchi and assorted banchan (korean side dishes that are made in bulk and served with every meal) in the fridge.
Now for a few basic Korean recipes. I've already shown pictures of kimbap, and gotten excited on this blog about that success, so I'll show something new here. But keep in mind that I'd be pretty excited to email anyone with more detailed recipes for anything you are curious about.
First, soup! I've made two soups here that I am especially thrilled with. The first was Korean chicken noodle soup, with homemade noodles and broth and topped with zuccini machsticks and green onion. In most of Asia, a long noodle indicates a long life, so there is special importance (and pressure) on noodle making ability. The second is a chicken mushroom soup that looks creamy but is actually a sesame powder based broth. There are two kinds of mushrooms involved, and of course green onion.
Anyway, back to the point. So this week's post is about Korean cooking as an foriegner, and I'm super excited about it. As I've mentioned before, cooking at home requires me to do a great deal of grocery shopping at a variety of shops and markets, an endeavor that takes hours sometimes. The ingredients though, the longer I'm here, seem less and less foriegn. And usually, I'm only shopping for fresh food and perishables, as I now have a stocked pantry of korean staples to draw from. Speaking of which, I put a little effort into the pictures below to show you what a stocked pantry looks like in our home. See the description below the pictures for explanations.
First, the feel good cabinet (except the onions, don't mind the onions). Here we have tea and junk food. Yuja, as you see labelled is a tea made of citron, the fruit that I have mentioned is one of Goheung's proud products. This jar is the typical way of drinking citron tea which I also included a picture of in a previous post. It is essentially the fruit, all chopped up, and preserved in honey. You put a spoonful or two in hot water and drink, pulp and all. Next to that is the tower of tea.On top is rice tea. That's it. Tea bags of ground rice. Because we don't get enough rice in our diets here... Below that is green tea... with rice. Because we don't get enough rice in our diets here. It's actually 70% rice, and 30% green tea, and is the preferred manner of drinking green tea by most people I've talked to. The third tea down is buckwheat tartary, which is good for digestion, delightfully nutty, and anti-inflamitory (I hear). Finally, on the bottom of the pile, is good ol' plain green tea. Most people here think it is bitter, and many grocery stores don't even carry it. Then of course, to the far right are the sweets. Granola bars for getting Jamie between meals, sweet bread like pan dulce for me, and chocolate cakes that are a lot like little debbies for dessert. Oh, and my 70% Theo dark chocolate, because I brought over a year's supply for fear I wouldn't be able to find my favorite chocolate here.
Above we have the staples cabinet. The red arrow points to a mostly empty, dog-food sized bag of rice. The red X is a bulk bag of sesame seeds. The yellow labelled 1, 2, and 3 are dried kelp, seaweed, and large dried anchovies respectively. Then of course, underlined in red is a bag of good ol' wheat flour. The stack indicated by the yellow bracket are individual sized cups of instant ramen (J likes the red kind, I like the yellow). Then there is the bag marked by a red circle which is sesame powder. Beside that is a jar of skippy peanut butter marked by a yellow X. Now skippy isn't our favorite brand, but it is all that is sold here, and toast with peanut butter for breakfast goes a lot further than toast with jam. Below that is the rectangular jar of spam I thought I'd never buy. Spam is ridiculously common in Korea. It is used in rice bowls, kimbap, soup, and more. Meat can be pretty expensive here, so I get the impression it's the only affordable way many rural Koreans can have meat at home. Then marked in green with a 1, 2, 3, 4 is vinegar, sesame oil, and gochujang, or red pepper paste, and finally salt. Just above the sesame oil is a tall jar of buckwheat noodles indicated by the yellow arrow. Buckwheat noodles are as common if not more-so than the flour noodles we eat back home here. Lastly is a big box of cereal marked by a red asterix. With these staple ingredients I can make about 7-9 basic Korean recipes and keep us easily fed for weeks, only having to pop out for veggies and specialty ingredients. Of course there is always a bulk jar of kimchi and assorted banchan (korean side dishes that are made in bulk and served with every meal) in the fridge.
Now for a few basic Korean recipes. I've already shown pictures of kimbap, and gotten excited on this blog about that success, so I'll show something new here. But keep in mind that I'd be pretty excited to email anyone with more detailed recipes for anything you are curious about.
First, soup! I've made two soups here that I am especially thrilled with. The first was Korean chicken noodle soup, with homemade noodles and broth and topped with zuccini machsticks and green onion. In most of Asia, a long noodle indicates a long life, so there is special importance (and pressure) on noodle making ability. The second is a chicken mushroom soup that looks creamy but is actually a sesame powder based broth. There are two kinds of mushrooms involved, and of course green onion.
p.s. The drink in the first picture (the one of chicken noodle soup) is so-mek. A mash up of soju, and mekju. Soju being a Korean liquor and mekju being lite beer. Koreans love this combo, and we don't mind it so much ourselves.
Then there's always the rice dishes, whether it's creative kimbap combos or fried rice, we can usally expect for rice to feature heavily in at least 1 or 2 meals a day.
Now, for ttokpoki. Ttokpoki is made with a korean staple called ttok (or dok) that is a gummy rice dough. For chuseok many traditional dishes involved ttok, and there is a ttok "education center" near our house where you can take lessons in making this traditional food. Ttokpoki is ttok in spicy sauce and can be ordered at any traditional restaurant. I am going to walk through this recipe in steps because it is or particular importance to a Korean cooking repertoire, and uses some of the more unique-to-korea ingredients (and I remembered to take pictures as I made it).
First, you make the broth with water, kelp, and anchovies which are boiled together for some time before the broth is strained.
Then, you add the ttok, as many hard boiled eggs as people you are feeding so that everyone gets one, and a gochujang (red pepper paste) & brown sugar mixture and boil them together until the liquid reduces to the consistency of thick spaghetti sauce.
Then you chow down while it's hot. It's super delicious and the secret to good ttokpoki is definitely in the base broth. Anchovies give it a distinct flavor that is more complex than a cheap store bought ttokpoki and the hard bolied eggs are the kind of treat you only get at home. Yum!
The last food I'll describe is often considered pub food here, and is called the Korean pancake or onion pancake. I like it because it is super easy to make, and surprisingly satisfying. It's usually a quick meal for nights when I didn't make a dinner plan. It is simply fried green onions with a batter of 1part water to 1part flour poured over them and cooked until just browning and holding together. Then it is served with soy sauce. That simple. For a slightly more interesting batter, sometimes a little salt and sugar can be added. Yummers. Usually it is served with banchan (korean side dishes) to suppliment. In the picture below I served it with preserved (mildly-pickled) chopped yellow onion banchan.
So that's a glimpse at my adventures in Korean cooking thus far. I have to say my favorite aspects include the sheer amount of sesame everything, whether it's via oil, seeds, or powder. It's never a main ingredient, but it's almost always involved and delicious. Jamie's favorite Korean food that I can make here at home is the chicken noodle soup, while his favorite Korean meal is BBQ. I'll continue experimenting and hopefully expand to using meat and fish. Frontiers I have yet to brave include eel and octopus (commonly sold on the street in town) and making my own ttok. These will be essential to my coming around as a good Korean housewife, but I've got time. Cooking in a new culture is challenging, not simply because of the language barrier, but in getting used to new flavors and learning how different ingredients behave. For example, noodles here are made very starchy, and so forming them can be challenging as the dough likes to shrink down as you try desperately to roll it out. Anchovies must be de-headed and have their intestines removed before use (I don't know why), and kelp is different from edible seaweed (who knew?!). These are just a few examples of the unexpected hurdles of cooking in any foriegn context. But I'm getting the hang of it. In the meantime, I've subscribed to my first magazine in korean, and it is, of course, a cooking magazine. This helps me with both my reading ability and cooking, and gives me a fresh project daily.
As always, thanks everyone for reading along. Please do email me with any specific questions or recipe requests. I'd love to share in more detail but don't want to bore anyone here on the blog. Happy half-way through October!
-Katy
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