So, this evening, I enjoyed a latte and a chat with another American at a Starbucks (I know, I know) in the middle of a very posh mall in Suji. It was a little crowded, and everyone seemed to have little kids with them, and in fact one family found it totally acceptable to change a diaper and wipe a poopy bottom in the middle of the Starbucks, surrounded by Burberry and Coach and other things. Acceptable. Suddenly, from the left corner of my field of view, enter CRAZY WOMAN (mid-30's).
CRAZY WOMAN (shouting): FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCKERS. YOUR PLUS-SIZED DICKS ARE SOOO BIG. FUCK THAT. FUCK YOU. I'M NEVER COMING HERE AGAIN.
She storms a little way more past the Starbucks crowd, now kind of concerned, and looking at myself and the other American even more than usual. The international standard nervous hush follows. Crazy Woman has almost passed, when she stops, whips off her coat, stares straight at me and offers:
CRAZY WOMAN (shouting): YOU TWO ESPECIALLY! FUCK YOU TWO! FUCKING DISGUSTING!!
And she finally stomps out of view. We tried to remain in a state of nervous 'hah, look at that', but I was kind of dazed by it, a little shaken, a little heart-pound-y. This feeling's still with me now, a little later.
Of course, despite the weirdness of the situation, my first thought was: Huh, that's some of the best English I've heard all day.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Band of Outsiders
In Seoul is an area called Itaewon, maybe an hour from where I live, winding up the yellow line to the orange to the double-doored brown. And one finds in Itaewon, almost exclusively, foreigners and their everydays. Restaurants, bookstores, bootleg Abercrombie sweatshirts, banks where one can use non-domestic cards, pay-as-you-go mobile and normal-sized shoes.
It is the oddest place to visit, and makes me a good mix of uncomfortable and glad at once. Upon stepping off the subway, you're almost always greeted by the brownest man you've seen in days, giving you a flyer for "FOREIGN RESTAURANT -- HALAL SERVED" with a map of the Seoul subway on the back, and kind of unappetizing pictures of shawarma / palak paneer / actual roti plastered haphazard on the front. He does not look happy. His cohorts do not look happy. But my stomach leaps joyful at the thought of garam masala. The sidewalks right by the subway are also the worst, very slanty and thin and iced.
Around sit the signs of every American joint I don't particularly miss. Coldstone Creamery, Baskin Robbins, Subway, Hard Rock Cafe, Quiznos, usually on a theme of ice cream or sandwiches. And in them sit the happiest damned fatties I have ever seen. Thank HEAVENS there is a place without kimchi or crazy items, they maybe think. And then they bite into a rank roast beef au jus with cheese. There are, of course, also places with Indian food, and even nachos, and places which I one day want to try where one can get kangaroo steak, and Dubai Restaurant, and passable looking German side-dishes.
What the Book, a very greatly named bookstore, sits at the bottom of some more slippery stairs, and it is a dangerous place in which to bring a wallet. For starters, Indie Pop Rocks is always playing over the sound system. Always. For seconders, it is full of cute glasses-wearing caucazoids who seem to have wandered out of the local Fleet Foxes concert, a nice thing for my eyes to see, instead of the usual staring old Korean fellas. Admittedly, the used books are largely Dan Brown, girly shit, a healthy helping of sci-fi and others that I would not in my right mind read, but oh no, there are new books, too. Where I have snagged some Pynchon and some other novels. It is the odd side effect of being in Korea, teaching broken slow English, that I have a renewed appreciation for the more strange and rambling uses of the language. Do I like to listen to psych rock, read 'The Crying of Lot 49' and draw odd things in a notebook? Yes, of course, more than ever.
Before leaving Itaewon this weekend, I stopped at Foreigners Market, the Korean equivalent of the ubiquitous Asian Grocery Store from back in the U.S. It was a terrifying place, very small and with three aisles of overstuffed shelves. There are labels of every British, Japanese, Indian, American, European, Filipino food company, all sitting alongside another as uncomfortably as the foreigners who shove into one another for cans and bags of candy. Glares and stares exchanged as someone nabs the last Cadbury Milk bar. Good ol' American army boys shoving past vaguely-feared Ay-rabs in search of good catsup. The fish-smelling amalgam of Asian foods back in the states, now transposed across an ocean and into the necessary activities of such a strange group.
I left with 4500 won dal, though.
It is the oddest place to visit, and makes me a good mix of uncomfortable and glad at once. Upon stepping off the subway, you're almost always greeted by the brownest man you've seen in days, giving you a flyer for "FOREIGN RESTAURANT -- HALAL SERVED" with a map of the Seoul subway on the back, and kind of unappetizing pictures of shawarma / palak paneer / actual roti plastered haphazard on the front. He does not look happy. His cohorts do not look happy. But my stomach leaps joyful at the thought of garam masala. The sidewalks right by the subway are also the worst, very slanty and thin and iced.
Around sit the signs of every American joint I don't particularly miss. Coldstone Creamery, Baskin Robbins, Subway, Hard Rock Cafe, Quiznos, usually on a theme of ice cream or sandwiches. And in them sit the happiest damned fatties I have ever seen. Thank HEAVENS there is a place without kimchi or crazy items, they maybe think. And then they bite into a rank roast beef au jus with cheese. There are, of course, also places with Indian food, and even nachos, and places which I one day want to try where one can get kangaroo steak, and Dubai Restaurant, and passable looking German side-dishes.
What the Book, a very greatly named bookstore, sits at the bottom of some more slippery stairs, and it is a dangerous place in which to bring a wallet. For starters, Indie Pop Rocks is always playing over the sound system. Always. For seconders, it is full of cute glasses-wearing caucazoids who seem to have wandered out of the local Fleet Foxes concert, a nice thing for my eyes to see, instead of the usual staring old Korean fellas. Admittedly, the used books are largely Dan Brown, girly shit, a healthy helping of sci-fi and others that I would not in my right mind read, but oh no, there are new books, too. Where I have snagged some Pynchon and some other novels. It is the odd side effect of being in Korea, teaching broken slow English, that I have a renewed appreciation for the more strange and rambling uses of the language. Do I like to listen to psych rock, read 'The Crying of Lot 49' and draw odd things in a notebook? Yes, of course, more than ever.
Before leaving Itaewon this weekend, I stopped at Foreigners Market, the Korean equivalent of the ubiquitous Asian Grocery Store from back in the U.S. It was a terrifying place, very small and with three aisles of overstuffed shelves. There are labels of every British, Japanese, Indian, American, European, Filipino food company, all sitting alongside another as uncomfortably as the foreigners who shove into one another for cans and bags of candy. Glares and stares exchanged as someone nabs the last Cadbury Milk bar. Good ol' American army boys shoving past vaguely-feared Ay-rabs in search of good catsup. The fish-smelling amalgam of Asian foods back in the states, now transposed across an ocean and into the necessary activities of such a strange group.
I left with 4500 won dal, though.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The top four best things about Korea
As decided by one who would really like some food right now, because I have the flu or something and can't keep much down, but I continue to dream of all things caloric, delicious, edible:
1) MAGICAL STRAWBERRIES. I am sure that these things are genetically engineered and I am probably growing a third arm as a result of eating them, but strawberries here are nothing short of miraculous. Big. Red. Plump. Most importantly, they taste pre-dipped in sugar. They are perfectly sweet and juicy and I don't think I have ever been so enamored with something that purports to be healthy.
2) FOUR-DOLLAR POTATO PIZZA. Yes, one could go to Papa John's or Domino's and shell out an arm and a leg for a pie, but why?! Korea's own Pizza School makes pies that are the right size for two hungry, kvetchy teachers, and they never cost more than 6,000 won. And you can get potato slices on top. And a big old bottle of Coke for 80 cents. And the disapproving stares of the pizza matron, who is really pissed that I don't speak Korean and just want some melty cheese.
3) THEY HAVE CRUNKY HERE !! The best-named candy bar in history continues its hold on my heart.
4) WHY IS IT CALLED ROTI, I DUNNO but there is this really awesome baked good named a 'roti'. It has nothing to do with India, and its name flirts with being related to the also-very-good 'roesti', but it is neither of these. Instead, it is a bun. A palm-sized, vaguely booblike bun. And the store where I buy them most often takes them straight out of the oven and puts them in a little bag for my convenience. These are the sweetest buns. On the bottom, it is a little bit crisp and sugary. On the top, it is soft and squishy like the clouds one would rest on in dreams. And inside - best part! - is a melty pat of butter which appears suddenly and engulfs you in salt and a general feeling of yesssssss. Related to #2, these only set me back 2,000 won when I have a craving, which is like, a buck-fifty.
1) MAGICAL STRAWBERRIES. I am sure that these things are genetically engineered and I am probably growing a third arm as a result of eating them, but strawberries here are nothing short of miraculous. Big. Red. Plump. Most importantly, they taste pre-dipped in sugar. They are perfectly sweet and juicy and I don't think I have ever been so enamored with something that purports to be healthy.
2) FOUR-DOLLAR POTATO PIZZA. Yes, one could go to Papa John's or Domino's and shell out an arm and a leg for a pie, but why?! Korea's own Pizza School makes pies that are the right size for two hungry, kvetchy teachers, and they never cost more than 6,000 won. And you can get potato slices on top. And a big old bottle of Coke for 80 cents. And the disapproving stares of the pizza matron, who is really pissed that I don't speak Korean and just want some melty cheese.
3) THEY HAVE CRUNKY HERE !! The best-named candy bar in history continues its hold on my heart.
4) WHY IS IT CALLED ROTI, I DUNNO but there is this really awesome baked good named a 'roti'. It has nothing to do with India, and its name flirts with being related to the also-very-good 'roesti', but it is neither of these. Instead, it is a bun. A palm-sized, vaguely booblike bun. And the store where I buy them most often takes them straight out of the oven and puts them in a little bag for my convenience. These are the sweetest buns. On the bottom, it is a little bit crisp and sugary. On the top, it is soft and squishy like the clouds one would rest on in dreams. And inside - best part! - is a melty pat of butter which appears suddenly and engulfs you in salt and a general feeling of yesssssss. Related to #2, these only set me back 2,000 won when I have a craving, which is like, a buck-fifty.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
A conversation with Kent.
Kent is a seven-year-old student at Kinder Liebe with a blank but affectionate stare, cute haircut, and relatively un-snotted/crayoned clothing. However, he also is a bit of a non sequitur machine. I hypothesize that, while most babies were either bottle- or breast- fed, Kent was given tabs of LSD. Here is some experiential evidence:
(in class, attempting to fill out an easy page in the English Land workbook)
Me: Okay, Kent, we have to unscramble the sentence. '15th June it's'. What do you think the first word is?
Kent: ......
Me: Let's say the first word is 'it's'. What word comes next?
Kent: Fish.
Me: No, that's not a choice. It either has to be 15th or June. Which word is it?
Kent: Party slowly.
Me: ...What?
Kent: Party... slowly.
Me: Okayyy, let's try the next question. Christmas is on what date?
Kent: (siren noise)
Me: It's in the winter time, so can you tell me a winter month?
Kent: Moooooooooooooo!!
Me: Okay. Kent. Look. It's in December. What day in December is Christmas?
Kent: December.... (long, pseudo-thoughtful pause)... Halloween!
(in class, attempting to fill out an easy page in the English Land workbook)
Me: Okay, Kent, we have to unscramble the sentence. '15th June it's'. What do you think the first word is?
Kent: ......
Me: Let's say the first word is 'it's'. What word comes next?
Kent: Fish.
Me: No, that's not a choice. It either has to be 15th or June. Which word is it?
Kent: Party slowly.
Me: ...What?
Kent: Party... slowly.
Me: Okayyy, let's try the next question. Christmas is on what date?
Kent: (siren noise)
Me: It's in the winter time, so can you tell me a winter month?
Kent: Moooooooooooooo!!
Me: Okay. Kent. Look. It's in December. What day in December is Christmas?
Kent: December.... (long, pseudo-thoughtful pause)... Halloween!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Good news, bad news.
Good news: A new Shugo Tokumaru album is coming out in the spring, entitled 'Ram Hee'? I have no idea what would make a ram chuckle thus, but anyway, AWESOME.
Bad news: Today I had to undergo a series of health tests to prove my greatness and eligibility for an Alien Registration Card. This included a blood test, wherein a confused-looking Korean nurse attempted to draw blood from several points on my right arm, before concluding that the top of my hand was a happenin' place. All the while, I listened to Panda Bear's "Comfy in Nautica" on my iPod, singing 'coolness is having couraaaaage, courage to do what's riiiiiiiiight' and shielding my eyes like a whiny little child. Real brave, you see. Afterwards, I had to pee into a cup, which was a bit of a struggle but I overcame. However, I had to carry said cup of pee down a hallway with Gemma, the director of my school, standing next to me. Urine, meet boss. Boss, meet steaming-fresh urine.
Another week is nearly done; eating dinner with Gemma and others tonight. Let's celebration !!
Bad news: Today I had to undergo a series of health tests to prove my greatness and eligibility for an Alien Registration Card. This included a blood test, wherein a confused-looking Korean nurse attempted to draw blood from several points on my right arm, before concluding that the top of my hand was a happenin' place. All the while, I listened to Panda Bear's "Comfy in Nautica" on my iPod, singing 'coolness is having couraaaaage, courage to do what's riiiiiiiiight' and shielding my eyes like a whiny little child. Real brave, you see. Afterwards, I had to pee into a cup, which was a bit of a struggle but I overcame. However, I had to carry said cup of pee down a hallway with Gemma, the director of my school, standing next to me. Urine, meet boss. Boss, meet steaming-fresh urine.
Another week is nearly done; eating dinner with Gemma and others tonight. Let's celebration !!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Traditional Korean cuisine
I would just like to let the world know that I'm eating Texas toast garlic bread with cheese in the middle and honey on top.
That is all.
That is all.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Kinder Liebe: BATTLE PLAN
So, I have successfully completed week one of fifty-two yelling at children to NO SPEAKING KOREAN and ENGLISH PLEASE. To which they reply, TEACHAA CRAZY and NO NO NO NO NO NO NO more often than not. These little fellers put up one tough fight against me, against English, against the temptation to NOT put their fingers in their butts, heaven forbid. Here is what I have observed so far:
1) English names! Each kid has an English name which I call them by, instead of their actual Korean name. It can be pretty funny, as I am now teaching a boatload of little Julies, a hot-headed Phil, one quiet Dana and a sweater vest-rockin' Daniel. It is kind of weird to yell at the small Asian embodiment of people that I know from back in the states. Nobody has my name, though.
2) Little kids here are as germy and gross as kids back in the US. One week in and I've developed a wicked post-nasal drip. No surprise there. The head of the school treated the teachers to a nice dinner of kimbap and u-dong on Friday, but I was maybe a little hesitant to eat on the same tables that my students rub their boogers on.
3) Whatever they put in the Japanese water to make their kids attentive, well-behaved and angelic is clearly not pumped into the water supply here. My GOD.
4) I am the token caucasian at the school. The other American teachers are Asian in descent, which means I get the stares, the sobs from the 5-year-olds, and the alternating comments that 'teachaa look like doll' or 'teachaa ugly!! hee hee hee hee'. The stares extend from school onto the street, so maybe I am flattered, just maybe.
Okay, more to come soon, for realsies.
1) English names! Each kid has an English name which I call them by, instead of their actual Korean name. It can be pretty funny, as I am now teaching a boatload of little Julies, a hot-headed Phil, one quiet Dana and a sweater vest-rockin' Daniel. It is kind of weird to yell at the small Asian embodiment of people that I know from back in the states. Nobody has my name, though.
2) Little kids here are as germy and gross as kids back in the US. One week in and I've developed a wicked post-nasal drip. No surprise there. The head of the school treated the teachers to a nice dinner of kimbap and u-dong on Friday, but I was maybe a little hesitant to eat on the same tables that my students rub their boogers on.
3) Whatever they put in the Japanese water to make their kids attentive, well-behaved and angelic is clearly not pumped into the water supply here. My GOD.
4) I am the token caucasian at the school. The other American teachers are Asian in descent, which means I get the stares, the sobs from the 5-year-olds, and the alternating comments that 'teachaa look like doll' or 'teachaa ugly!! hee hee hee hee'. The stares extend from school onto the street, so maybe I am flattered, just maybe.
Okay, more to come soon, for realsies.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Liveblogging Detroit Airport!!
8:00 AM - Gotta pee.
8:10 AM - ....might as well pee again.
8:20 AM - I would not care for a hamburger or Mexican food for breakfast, thanks.
8:27 AM - Only, like, five hours to go before I escape this gray and long hellhole!
8:10 AM - ....might as well pee again.
8:20 AM - I would not care for a hamburger or Mexican food for breakfast, thanks.
8:27 AM - Only, like, five hours to go before I escape this gray and long hellhole!
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