the story

I alluded to some of the reasons that I'm leaving Korea early (before the end of Matthew's current teaching contract) in "ten signs it's time to leave korea." What it boils down to is that we've decided it's better for Liam to be back in the United States.

From the first moment Liam stepped foot in Korea, he's been a local celebrity of sorts, since he's the only blond-haired, blue-eyed child in Sokcho (or was, before the arrival of his baby brother). Everywhere we go, people stare, want to touch him, take his picture, etc. He's become more aware and affected by this as he's gotten older. When it comes to adults, sometimes he freaks out when people even say hello to him, anticipating them trying to grab him. With kids, it's been a constant struggle to socialize him in some way resembling normalcy.

When we returned from a trip home between contract years, we enrolled him part-time in a small neighborhood daycare, which he seemed to enjoy for the most part, but he was sick way too much. After having been sick only twice in his first 12 months in Korea, he was sick four times in the six weeks he attended and shared several of those illnesses with the rest of us, including the flu and a virus that gave Rowan and I very nasty sinus/ear infections. It just wasn't worth it.

Korea is such a homogeneous culture, children here aren't used to dealing with anyone different. Other children's reactions at the playground and other public areas range from curiosity (staring, trying to take pictures) to fear (running away, even bursting into tears when he tries to play). Older kids tend to treat him like a mascot (petting his head, wanting to carry him around), but a few are actually mean to him. Constantly running interference for him, interpreting, protecting, advocating, left me exhausted and feeling like we had more bad days than good.

Finally, after hearing story after story and witnessing some of it first-hand, Matthew asked me if I wanted to move home with the boys. We discussed the pros and cons, finally deciding this would be best for Liam & I. Initially, Matthew was going to stay to finish out his contract, but seven months apart would have been too long, especially for the boys. Instead, Matthew will be coming home at the end of the year, just three months after the rest of us. Since making this decision, there's been even more craziness on the playground that confirmed my decision and led me to avoid the playgrounds after about 2 p.m. when the elementary schools let out in the afternoon.

I don't want to make it sound like Korean people are horrible in any way. The older people are overbearing and abrupt, but they generally mean well. The younger adults (those currently raising children and younger) are mostly understanding and kind. The children just don't seem to know better. What it really comes down to is that we don't belong here. This is not our home. Maybe if we'd stuck to our original plan to live closer to Seoul (and other ex-pat families), we could have made it work longer, but we liked Sokcho and the people we had worked for during our first stay. I'm not leaving with any hard feelings towards the country or the people, I just feel that it's time for us to leave. I've met a lot of amazing people here, both Koreans and ex-pats, and had many wonderful experiences.

kimchi recipe (and bonus essay)

(click on picture to enlarge)

As I've said before, I don't care for kimchi. It's not that I don't like spicy food, as most Koreans seem to believe is the only reason foreigners could possibly not like "the most delicious and healthy food in Korea." (See essay at the end of this entry.) I love spicy Mexican and Thai food, just to name my two favorite cuisines. Kimchi is slimy and sour, in addition to being spicy. I've been told that if I keep eating it, I'll eventually grow to like it and even become addicted. To which I reply, why would I want to force myself to become addicted to something?

Many people (including Matthew) do like kimchi, however, and might be interested in making the stinky (seriously, when Matthew opens a jar at home, I start inspecting the boys' diapers to see who made Mommy a present), slimy stuff. A new Korean teacher at Matthew's school wrote out the recipe for him. This is a bit amazing, since most Koreans I've asked don't know how to make kimchi themselves. Their mothers or mothers-in-law do all the kimchi-making. I wonder if it's becoming a lost art among the younger generation of Koreans.

I will do my best to type it below, in case you have difficulties reading the photograph above. Some parts do not entirely make sense to me. Some quantities/amounts she added in to the original directions. I don't really think 2 c of red pepper powder means 2 cups, maybe 2 ccs. Also, she doesn't say anything about letting it ferment. Maybe you can figure it out. Think of it as a culinary adventure.


Kimchi Recipe (by Jane)

1. Cut the cabbage into quarters.

2. Spread salt on the cabbage. And let it be 4-5 hours. (The salt should be bigger one like this [sample salt is taped to page] One handful of salt per 3 quarters of cabbage)

And Now Let's make Sauce
([for] 3 cabbage) Get ready --> Red pepper powder (2 c), well minced garlic (7-8), well minced green onion (3), salted fish juice (2 table spoon per one quarter of cabbage), sugar (2 tablespoon), salted shrimp (2T), 1 fresh oyster, 1 onion, 1 pear or apple.

3. Put onion and pear in the blender.

4. Put everything in a bowl and mix well.

5. Pour half cup of water in a pan, and put 2 tablespoon of wheat flour. Boil it with low temperature. Keep stir it. When it looks like glue. Then stay it to get cold. And then mix with the sauce.

Sauce Ready!

6. Wash off the cabbage and let it water drip.

[illustration of cabbage on a wicker tray]
(It'll take 3 hours to dry.)

7. Finally spread the sauce on the cabbage. Yummy~

[And then an illustration at the bottom. It's apparently Matthew as Dr. House from "House MD," yielding a scalpel and proclaiming, "I'm a surgern." Hmmm...maybe an allusion to his ambition to become an MD? Or maybe she thinks his personality is like House?]



Finally, as promised, a middle school student's essay that I corrected this week. The prompt was, "Does Kimchi have medicinal properties beyond fresh fruits and vegetables at increasing the body's resistance to swine flu, the HIV virus, and other diseases?" I'm typing out the student's original response, without corrections. (Although there are some errors and the student doesn't actually answer the question, you have to admit this student's mastery of a foreign language is pretty darn good for middle school, an age when many American students haven't even begun learning a second language.)

Kimchi has been the most delicious and healthy food in Korea. Many Americans hate to eat it because it's too spicy. However, they will start to it at once if they know how good Kimchi is.

First of all, Kimchi is a anti-cancer food. Many healthy ingredients are included in Kimchi such as cabbage which prevents intenstine cancer and garlic which prevents stomach cancer. those who don't want to get cancer really should eat Kimchi.

In addition to that, Kimchi is a vitamin-containing food. Besides, when Kimchi is passing through the fermenting stage, containment of vitamin increases up to over two times than initial containment of vitamin.

What is more, Kimchi is a low calory food. It contains a lot of eatable fiber. Thus, it prevents and treat all kind of adult diseases like diabetes, heart diseases and fat, etc.

Now you see how healthy you would be to eat Kimchi. I'm proud of my ancestor who invented a laudable food -- Kimchi. I highly recommend people to eat Kimchi, and hope they like it.

and more bugs!

While walking along the coast this weekend, Matthew spotted a preying mantis. They're amazingly calm and curious creatures.



This one climbed across Matthew's back, but totally escaped the notice of Rowan, who was riding in the Ergo. Oh, well...probably best for the mantis to escape notice.



The mantis is on Matthew's finger:




And, some less fortunate bugs, as seen today at Mt. Seorak:



Yes, it probably is what you think it is...fried grasshoppers. (Click on the picture for a closer view.) Several Koreans who walked by while Matthew was taking pictures expressed some disgust, so it's not like ALL Koreans like them...unlike 번데기 (beondegi).



Disclaimer: That last bit was a joke, about all Koreans liking beondegi. But I've been told that schoolchildren love them, and besides being sold fresh in hiking areas and near schools throughout the country, one can buy them canned at the grocery store. So, obviously SOMEONE in Korea likes to eat silkworm pupae.

ten signs it's time to leave korea

10. every time you hear the phrase, "Waegookin imnida!" (It's a foreigner!), your middle finger starts itching.

9. you're tempted to tell people who want to take pictures of you or your children, "Poto, manwon" (photo, 10 bucks!) and those wanting to practice their English with you, while you're trying to watch your child, "Yeonga-lur, sahm-ship-boon, ee-man-o-cheon-won" (English, 30 minutes, 25 bucks.)

8. you hold your breath every time your toddler runs up to a group of "kids! kids!," waiting to see how they'll respond to the blond-haired, blue-eyed foreign "baby."

7. you teach your toddler the phrase "babo (foolish/stupid) kids," as a response to kids who run away or otherwise don't want to play with him.

6. you start to take offense at stupid things, like "egg-ee" (which applies to any child up to the age of 3, whereas "agg-ee" is more specifically an infant) being translated as "baby," or kids always saying, "c'mon, baby," which is a phrase from a popular k-pop song.

5. you're exhausted from running interference for your child every time you're in public.

4. you've begun to openly mock kimchi, which Koreans view as a wondrous cure-all.

3. you actually consider saying, "an-chua shiball imnida" (it's not f***ing cold) to women who insist your baby is under-dressed for a breezy day in the 70s.

2. you interpret the ear-nose-throat specialist's attempts at "enlarging your nasal passage" as blatant xenophobia.

1. some days you think if you hear one more child whine like a police siren, you're going to lose it.

foreigner faux pas

We've committed a social blunder, a fairly serious one, apparently.

When we were first here, we had a couple in our adult classes: a pediatrician and his wife. There are no longer any adult classes at AP, but we now live in the same building as this couple. They're some of the nicest people we've met here and we consider them friends. They have three boys of their own, so we always enjoy hearing their parenting stories, sharing baked goods with their family, etc. JonWook (our friend's given name) has examined Liam's various cuts & scrapes several times, and we really like his gentle, caring manner.

We've always intended to take the boys to JonWook's clinic, but up to this point, we'd taken them to the pediatrician at the hospital where I had Rowan, just out of convenience. Since Rowan needs to get caught up on his vaccinations, we finally took him to our friend.

As Americans, we don't want to take advantage of a friend, especially as foreigners. From our point of view, JonWook has a business to run. If he gives us a discount, we're taking money out of his pocket. That's not the Korean way, though. Koreans WANT to do things for their friends. It's insulting if their friends do not accept...which leads up to our blunder.

When Matthew went to pay for the vaccinations, the nurse quoted him a much lower price that what Matthew thought it should be. The prices of all the vaccines (which vary in price, as they're apparently not subsidized by the government like they are in the U.S.) are clearly posted on the counter. She was trying to charge him for only one. When Matthew questioned the price, JonWook stepped in to translate. Matthew pointed to the prices of the two vaccines Rowan had received and then the two of them went back and forth about how much we should pay, each trying to explain his own side.

In the end, Matthew insisted on paying the full amount, but neither the nurse or JonWook would look him in the eyes at that point. They were both embarrassed. JonWook proceeded to take Matthew on a tour of his clinic while I fed Rowan, then offered to call a taxi for us when we left.

That afternoon at work, Matthew recounted the story for our friend, Jenny, who explained more fully the Korean perspective on the situation. She said we'd probably really insulted him. Talking about the situation after Matthew came home from work that night, we realized that he probably conveyed to JonWook that we don't consider him as good of a friend as he considers us.

So next week when we take Rowan in for another round of vaccinations, we'll have to explain better the idea of "not taking advantage of one's friends." Luckily, we can play the "foreigner card," and hopefully gloss over our foreigner faux pas.

And now, some random cuteness: Rowan proudly wearing the stickers bestowed upon him by Liam, proclaiming him to be both "Fantastic" and "Well Done."

KOREA SPARKLING!

Dear Korean Tourism Organization,

I've seen your KOREA SPARKLING ad campaign and read that you hope to attract 10 million tourists to South Korea by 2010. You're quickly approaching that deadline, so I have some suggestions for making South Korea a bit more tourist-friendly.

Don't get me wrong, South Korea is a beautiful country. The geography alone is stunning. The traditional architecture and Buddhist temples are fascinating. Korea has a rich history and culture, which are well-documented at various museums and monuments throughout the country. I hear the shopping is fantastic, although that's not really "a cup of my tea." And, not to be ignored, Korea has a flair for the quirky: penis parks, museums dedicated to random collections (i.e. the Edison & Gramophone Museum in Gangnueng), odd theme restaurants and bars (like the odd metal spaceship-esque bar here in Sokcho), etc.

However, there are a few things you could do to clean up Korea a bit and make it, um, sparkle more.

1. Put in public garbage cans (AKA rubbish bins). There is a dearth of places to throw away trash in public areas. (Bus stops are the exception.) As a result, there is garbage everywhere. The other day, my family was riding the gatbae across Lake Cheungcho. An elderly woman finished her yogurt drink and tossed the plastic container into the lake. The city playground near my apartment is always covered in trash, including broken soju bottles. Conveniently placed garbage cans would alleviate this unsightly issue.

2. Replace more of the squat toilets. Squat toilets are the bane of my existence here in Korea. I'm sure many foreigners (especially of the female gender) feel the same way. Some restrooms, such as the one at our local intercity bus terminal, have a stall marked "Foreigners Only" with a Western-style toilet. However, this stall is often occupied by Koreans, so obviously the local people also prefer not having to hunker down on their haunches to relieve themselves.

3. Educate people about the proper care of pets, dogs in particular. Puppies are cute and entertaining, but they do grow up. Adult dogs need to be bathed and walked. Westerners do not like to see beautiful, but filthy, dogs tied up on 2 foot ropes. Seeing dogs ill-treated reminds us that some Koreans still eat dog, and we know that you want the world to forget that.

None of these changes detract from the Korean experience, but instead allow Korea to truly sparkle.

Kind regards,
Legal alien #******-666****
(That's really part of my ID number. I can't make this stuff up.)

Obama admires Korean schools?

Full article: Obama urges longer school hours, extended school year

Excerpt:

"We can no longer afford an academic calendar designed when America was a nation of farmers who needed their children at home plowing the land at the end of each day," Obama said, adding U.S. education to his already crowded list of top priorities.

"That calendar may have once made sense, but today, it puts us at a competitive disadvantage. Our children spend over a month less in school than children in South Korea. That is no way to prepare them for a 21st century economy."

He urged administrators to "rethink the school day" to add more class time.

"I know longer school days and school years are not wildly popular ideas," he said. "Not in my family, and probably not in yours. But the challenges of a new century demand more time in the classroom. If they can do that in South Korea, we can do it right here in the United States of America."

South Korean public schools are "closed" for almost two months following Christmas, although many students attend "winter camps" and other school programs. The students also have a month-long vacation in summer. My hypothesis is that the schools are closed during the most extreme weather of the year to avoid atrocious conditions or the energy bills that would come with keeping classrooms at bearable temperatures.

Students attend school five days per week, plus a half-day every other Saturday. Probably this is where they make up extra time. But unlike the U.S., where grades 1-12 must put in the same number of hours per day, South Korean students put in longer days as they get older. Although they're not in academic classes the whole time, high school students are at school into the evening for required activities and study time.

I'm not convinced all that time is well-spent. The normal teaching style here is lecture and listen. Many teachers do not even allow their students to take notes during lectures. Students are merely to absorb the knowledge, then regurgitate it via standardized tests. Middle school students spend weeks studying for their midterms and finals. In fact, coming here directly from teaching public school in the U.S., I saw the South Korean system as a ghastly example (think Dickens' ghost of Christmas future) of what may happen to the American public school system if the test-focused "No Child Left Behind" madness continues. The South Korean model lacks creativity, problem-solving, and independent thinking, important skills if we want American students to be globally competitive.

Now I realize that Obama was only referring to the scheduling side of South Korean schools, but I don't think you can extricate that part of the system. It's a whole: long hours, including weekend, standardized tests, fear of failure (rumor is, no one ever gets held back because they would lose face), school uniforms and single-sex education after grade 6, etc. If that's what we're heading for, I'll pursue other options for my sons. (I could get behind the school uniforms, though. Korean middle and high school students look very snappy, even when they wear sneakers with their uniforms.)

I still support Obama, but I hope he gathers more information before he holds up the South Korean system as any type of example.

to market, to market

As we were walking through the traditional market the other day, I thought about how we no longer think twice about sights that originally seemed so strange. Okay, I will admit that some of them are still strange. I'll add that we don't do most of our shopping here. We buy produce occasionally, but mostly come down for beans (pinto, black, etc.) that we can't find elsewhere and the little foreign food shop that has good prices.

Matthew & Liam exploring


fairly normal produce


dried fish (anchovies on the bottom, with squid strips and shrimp above)


and more dried fish


fresh seaweed


and dried seaweed


many varieties of kimchi


not to be confused with..."Korean freezer food"


and more "freezer food"


salmon


the dried squid for which Sokcho is known


and, finally...outside a butcher's stall...I'll let you figure out what it is:

more babies, please!

Not for me...for South Korea.

One of my "followers" (using that term makes me feel like a cult leader) commented on how strange it is that the Korean government is monetarily rewarding people for having children. That's because South Korea has one of the lowest (2nd only to Hong Kong) birth rates in the world: 1.08% in 2006. There are several factors that contributed to this decrease.

Forty years ago, the average Korean woman married young and had an average of six children. The shift to urban life, with higher education for women and less need for a "family work force" has dropped that number to 1.17 children per woman.

As each generation tries to create a better life for their children, parents are overwhelmed by the rising cost of pre-school, hagwon (private after-school programs like the one where Matthew works), and university, not to mention all the stuff that modern kids supposedly need. And, let's face it, Koreans are competitively materialistic. The game of keeping up with the Kims puts the Joneses to shame. Most people can't afford to have more than one or two children.

Oh, and then there's the former government programs. That's right, starting in the 1960s, the government discouraged citizens from having too many children. One slogan was, "Give Birth Without Thought and Keep Living Like a Beggar." Subtle, no? The government encouraged and subsidized vasectomies and tubal ligations until as late as 2005. Now they're paying to reverse those same vasectomies. Oops!

I wrote earlier about the debit card I received to defray my prenatal care. Some provinces give money directly to people who have more children, especially in smaller cities and towns where the population is rapidly aging. Our province, Gangwon-do, pays for "kindergarten" (pre-school that children can start as early as two years) for third or subsequent children.

Only time will tell if these measures help. If not, the South Korean population will decrease 13% by 2050.

Further reading:
http://www.lifesitenews.com/ldn/2006/aug/06082802.html
http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/nation/2008/11/117_34319.html
http://www.globalpost.com/dispatch/south-korea/090112/where-children-are-too-expensive
http://brothersjuddblog.com/archives/2005/08/yup_ten_million_reverse_vasect_1.html

One last birth post

Things I didn't do (or won't be doing):

...eating seaweed soup for 30 days. I don't care how nutritional it is. It's slimy and gross. I eat occasional pieces of seaweed in other soups and dried seaweed on sushi rolls. Good enough.

...waiting several weeks after giving birth to bathe. According to one explanation from a Korean friend, after giving birth a woman's joints are disconnected and bathing could therefore be harmful. What???? Yes, her English is excellent, the communication issue is all cultural.

...waiting 21 days before anyone outside my immediate family can see the baby. My Korean mommy friend had a hard time understanding that I was inviting her over to see my 4-day-old baby. She did call to let me know she had her baby and was home from the hospital, but she didn't invite me over. (Oh, well.) She went to her parents' house in another city and won't be back until after the 21 days.

...waiting 100 days before leaving the house with baby. Seriously, I would have to be committed. Apparently, that's changed recently, but most women still don't leave the home for the first month. So I told Matthew to round up when people ask how old Rowan is. At three weeks, he was PRACTICALLY a month old.

...wearing shapeless tops that zip across the chest. That is the breast-feeding wear here. Most items also seem to be decorated with cutesy cartoon characters. Layering a tank top under my normal shirt works just fine, thanks.

Liam is 2...or 4...or maybe 3

Liam celebrated his 2nd birthday on Wednesday...or did he?

This is a paraphrased version of a conversation I had with YeonSoo, the owner/director of the school where Matthew is employed. (Technically, so am I.)

YS: How old is Liam?
me: Two, U.S. age. But four Korean age, I think.
YS: Four?
me: Well, he was one when he was born...
YS: Yes.
me: And he turned two on his first lunar new year, in January or February...
YS: Yes.
me: So then, he turned three last year and four this year. Right?
YS: Well, yes, but we would call that three.
me: Okay... (but thinking, HUH?)

Liam doesn't really care how old he is. He just likes blowing out candles as you can see in the picture of him blowing out the candles on the cakes that YeonSoo bought for Liam and me, since my birthday was Thursday. I haven't been able to get him to hold up two fingers in answer to the "How old are you?" question. But then I haven't really invested much time in the matter. Most people who ask him here are expecting to see three or four fingers, anyway, not to mention they ask in Korean.

I, on the other hand, am a bit traumatized by the fact that in the past five years (with three birthday in the U.S. and two in Korea), I have celebrated my 27th, then 30th, then 29th, then 30th again, and now 33rd birthdays.

Bring on the national health care!

One of the things that South Korea does well is national health care -- at least in my experience. Matthew pays 2.2% of his paycheck, his employer matches that, and all three of us have coverage.

Here is my standard OB/GYN visit:
I walk in (no appointment necessary) and hand my little pregnancy booklet to a nurse at the front counter. She gives me a little strip on which to urinate (testing for excess protein in my urine). After I get back from the restroom, I check my own blood pressure on the automatic machine, then weigh myself. The nurse records both.
I take a seat. After about 10 minutes (20 on a busy day), the ultrasound technician calls me in to her room. She checks out the baby's vitals and measurements. About half the time she prints out a picture for me.
I return to the waiting area. After another 5-10 minutes, I'm called into the doctor's office. We discuss any test results, symptoms, etc.
Finally, I return to the front counter to pay. My usual bill is W20,000, which used to be about $20 before the exchange rate went to hell. Currently, it's closer to $14. My most expensive visits, with various blood and urine tests, have been W60,000.

That's impressive, but the truly impressive part is yet to come.

Liam is sick. He has a bad cough and now a slight ear infection. There's a pediatrician's office in the same building as my OB/GYN. We've now taken him in three times, as the doctor wants to check his recovery frequently.

Here's Liam's visit:
Parent gives child's insurance booklet to counter nurse. Another nurse is simultaneously checking his temperature via an instant ear thermometer while he plays on the slide or rocking horse in the waiting area. Within 5 minutes, parent and child are ushered into the doctor's office. While Liam screams and (at least when accompanied by me) pulls parent's hair, the doctor and nurse work together to listen to his lungs and heart, check his throat and ears. The doctor then gives directions to the parent (or the other parent if both are there and Liam is still screaming in first parent's ear). The bill and prescription are all on the same paper. Today we were in and out in about 10 minutes total.

Total cost per visit: W1,800 to 2,800 per visit. Yup, that's about $2.00.

We take the prescription to the pharmacy across the street from our apartment building. (There is an on-site pharmacy, but we like our local pharmacist and prefer to give her our business.) She gives us the medicine in small bottles (just the right amount for the two or three days until the next doctor's visit) labeled with the amounts and times per day to be administered. She also throws in free vitamin C tablets.

Total cost for 2-3 days worth of medicine: about W3,000. That's the same price I paid for a little toy train at the discount shop down the street after Liam's second doctor visit.

I will point out that something like 92% of medical facilities in South Korea are privately owned. It's a very different system than many countries with universal health care. But it certainly seems to work, at least from my vantage point.

Note to self: stop falling down

Some women get clutzier when they're pregnant. I guess I'm naturally clutzy enough that I can't get any worse. I never tripped or fell when I was pregnant with Liam. I blame Liam completely for the fact that I've now fallen twice, in public, in the past month.

The first time, I was walking with Liam on a rainy, dismal day. I remember that it was the day of my friend Aubrey's birthday party and we were returning from the stationary shop where I'd gotten a card and ribbon for her gift. We'd also picked up Liam's favorite little fish-shaped, custard-filled (shuga-cream in Konglish) breads. Liam was tired, which he proved after we got home by throwing a stupid fit (over the fish bread) and then falling asleep on my lap. So, on the way home, he wanted me to carry him, something I've been doing less and less lately. Because of the toddler perched on my protruding belly, I couldn't see the curb very well, came down on my ankle wrong, and fell, dropping my child and the bag with the fish bread.

Why is this worth blogging about? Because there was an older woman walking by who saw the whole thing, saw that I was obviously pregnant, saw that I dropped my child who was then crying, and did NOTHING. She was not feeble-old or helpless-old, just grandmotherly. She didn't even ask if I was okay. She just stared at me for a moment and then kept walking, before I was even collected and off the ground.

Yes, I added this to my "list of slights," an imaginary list that I invented once in conversation with my friend Jen. I'm taking back what I previously said about old people in Korea being extremely courteous. Apparently that only applies when others are around to see them being nice to the foreigners.

This past week, I was walking down the sloped sidewalk in front of my apartment with Liam. He was holding my hand and started running, then fell down. He somehow took me down with him. So there we were, sprawled on the sidewalk, checking out our scrapes, and I looked up. A girl was standing at the end of the sidewalk just staring at us. In Korean, I said to her, "What? What are you looking at? Go!" Then in English, "What are you looking at? Foreigners fall down, too." She looked surprised and walked away. (She might have been surprised because I yelled at her. She might have been surprised because I spoke Korean. Or she might have been surprised because I said, "Mul ba?" which is the way gangsters in Korean movies ask "What are you looking at?")

I know that I'm a cranky pregnant woman. I understand that's just the way Koreans are in general, and specifically around foreigners who don't really fit into the social strata. That doesn't stop me from getting very, very, very irritated. So obviously, I just need to stop falling down. That will solve the problem. (And I still say it's all Liam's fault.)

When will I ever learn?

South Korea is known (with varying degrees of fondness) by many expats as "the land of not-quite-right." American culture has had a large influence on Koreans, but they tend to put their own spin on things, like food. You would think that after many disappointments, I would learn not to get my hopes up, but apparently I'm still...

gullible
[guhl-uh-buhl]
adj.
easily deceived or duped
(for example, see picture at left)








Fool me once: Baked Potato w/ "sour cream"

A new restaurant called "Joys" (part of a Korean chain) opened in Sokcho the first time we were here. They had baked potatoes on the menu with what looked like sour cream. Not so much. Try sweetened whipped cream. So I scraped that off and asked for butter. The waitress brought me honey butter, since that's what they serve with bread.

Fool me twice: Nachos

Mexican food just has not caught on here. Taco Bell is one of the only American major fast-food chains that has not set up franchises in South Korea. So I really should have known better than to order nachos and quesadillas at "Miller Time," a bar in Sokcho's restaurant district.

The quesadillas were passing good, but they contained no cheese. That's right; they were just dillas. The nachos, which were picture-perfectly arranged, were topped with cheese, honey-mustard sauce (same color as the cheese), sliced jalapenos, corn, probably some other random vegetables, and maraschino cherries. (Apparently, someone had seen a picture of nachos with diced tomatoes on top and thought they were cherries.) They were inedible.

Fool me three times, I'm just an idiot: clam chowder

Our friend Kelsey showed us a flier for a little place called "Edelweiss" down the beach a ways. According to the limited amount of English on the flier (and the pictures), they serve clam chowder (in a real bowl with three slices of crisp garlic bread on the side) and sell "real chocolate" and have some sort of "Sound of Music" theme.

Since we rented a car for the weekend and were driving back up the coast with friends, we decided to stop there for a light supper. The place is tiny, think small gift shop with one table and a mini-kitchen, but the proprietor said he had clam chowder and showed us a large take-out paper bowl when we asked what size the chowder was. We thought it was a decent deal (for Korea) at W6,000 (about $6 at normal exchange rates), so all five of us ordered bowls.

I was mostly supervising Liam so that he didn't break any of the souvenirs for sale. But our friends were able to see that he was opening cans of Campbell's clam chowder, and not even the chunky kind that we have to order from Costco in Seoul, but the original concentrated kind that we can buy for about W2,500 per can at the local grocery store. He heated it in the microwave, with less milk than normal, but didn't stir it very well. The large paper bowls he had shown us were only half-full of soup, which was served with semi-sweet crackers and a sliced dill pickle (which is hard to find in Korea). Oh, and he put on the soundtrack from "The Sound of Music" while we ate. Now, that's atmosphere.

It was edible, but definitely not worth the price. But, then, why did I expect anything else?

gettin' domestic

If you know me very well, you know that I'm a very sarcastic person. The name of this blog is pretty tongue-in-cheek. Not that I'm not a happily married, happy mother, but I don't know that I live in a state of bliss (especially if ignorance must accompany it). And I'm not really all that domestic. I like to knit, cook and bake, and there ends my domestic skill. My mother and husband will both tell you that I'm horrible at cleaning. I don't "use enough elbow grease," according to them. Whatever. Martha does not scrub her own pans.

With that disclaimer, I've been wanting to add a touch of domesticity to this blog. My friends here keep asking me for recipes, since Matthew and I definitely prepare food more than the average waygook. My loyal readers outside Korea (Hi, Sumi, Sara & Sue ; ) will hopefully be entertained by the lengths to which I must go just to recreate some of my favorite foods.

This is my stove. There are three gas burners on top, and a small gas oven on the bottom.


By small, I mean that the opening measures 12x6". Due to all the weird shelves, the largest baking dish that fits measures 6x8" at the bottom. It's a Pyrex dish that's wider at the top. I can make recipes that are supposed to fit in a 8 or 9" square pan. However, if I fill the pan too full and the contents rise to the rim, some of it will inevitably stick to the top element.



These are the controls. (Oven control is on the bottom right.) No temperature, just handy little pictures (featuring fish & bread) that vaguely indicate which elements are in operation. We've gone through a lot of trial and error to figure out which settings work for different recipes. The first time I made pineapple upside-down cake, it took forever to bake because I had the oven on too low. The second time, it was Cajun-style. (Sorry, no photo documentation on that.)


I should mention that I'm "lucky" because most Koreans (and foreign teachers in Korea) do not have ovens of any kind. Some of our friends here have toaster ovens. Others of the more permanently-settled type (i.e. married to a Korean) have normal-sized ovens. Traditional Korean cooking does not include baking and most Koreans prefer to buy baked goods from the store.

Here is baking lesson #1: meatballs

I don't actually use a recipe, but here's basically what I put in the batch I made today:
3 slices of bread
1/2 cup milk
2 eggs
half of a medium-sized white onion, chopped
4 or 5 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
2 teaspoons dried basil }
2 teaspoons dried oregano } All herb amounts are guestimations;
2 teaspoons dried thyme } I just dumped them in.
salt and pepper to taste
400 grams ground beef
400 grams ground pork

Soak the bread in the milk until it's soggy, then squish all the excess milk out and crumble the bread into a mixing bowl. (This is a great alternative since I don't have a blender and haven't found prepared bread crumbs here.) Add the eggs and all the seasoning. Mix well with a fork. Dump in the meat and mix it all together with your hands. Yummy ; )


Shape the mixture into balls about 1 1/2 inches wide and place on some type of broiler or grill sheet.


Bake with the upper element partially on and the bottom element fully on. (This would be known as broiling in a normal oven.) Keep a close eye on them, because burnt meatballs suck and stink up your whole apartment. You'll need to cook them 5-10 minutes on the first side and 2-5 on the second side. Maybe. If the back of your oven is hotter, like mine is, you'll probably need to rotate the pan one during the first side's baking time.


When the meatballs are done (NOT pink in the middle), move them to a paper-towel-lined plate to cool. Once they're cool, you can store them in the fridge or freezer until you are ready to add them to spaghetti, sweet-n-sour sauce, etc. The batch I made today yielded about 5 dozen meatballs.


Follow that with cooking lesson #1: creamy carrot soup


Ingredients:
1 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup butter
4 1/2 cups sliced carrots (1/4 inch thick)
1 large potato, peeled and cubed
2 cans (14.5 oz each) chicken broth*
1 tsp ground ginger**
2 cups heavy cream (make sure you get the unsweetened kind!)
1 tsp crushed dried rosemary***
salt & pepper to taste

In a large pot, saute onion in butter until tender. Add carrots, potato, broth, and ginger. Cover and cook over medium heat for 30 minutes or until vegetable are tender. Cool for 15 minutes.
Puree in small batches in a blender or food processor (thank you, Kelsey, for letting me borrow yours) until smooth. Return to the pot, add cream, rosemary, salt & pepper. Cook over low heat until heated through.
Makes 6-8 servings.

*Broth: You can also use vegetable broth. We make our own. To make vegetable broth, chop up some vegetables (onions, carrots, leeks, zucchini, garlic, etc. -- whatever you want to use) and add some herbs (fresh or dried) and a lot of water. Bring to a boil and then leave it to simmer for several hours. Strain everything chunky out and (voila!) you have vegetable broth. Chicken broth is basically the same, but with chicken. Matthew has discovered that he can get a chicken carcass at the local grocery store for W500 (usually about 50 cents, but currently closer to 35 cents with the horrible exchange rate) if he just asks for it.
**Ginger: We brought dried ginger with us, because we packed the entire contents of our spice shelf. Fresh ginger is actually easier to find here and would probably work great. You would probably want to use more than the recipe calls for, since dried herbs are more intense. Grate it as finely as you can.
***Rosemary: I used fresh rosemary when I made this recipe here. Rosemary plants are very easy to find in Korea, although it's not commonly used for cooking. Koreans just like the aroma. I probably used between 2 tsp and 1 tbsp of fresh, chopped rosemary. (I broke off 2 or 3 sprigs, rinsed it, pulled off the leaves and chopped those up.)

a few more thoughts about old people

I forgot to mention in my previous post on this topic that old women often push their groceries and other packages around in stripped down baby strollers. The covers and padding are usually gone, leaving just the plastic frames. Matthew thinks they also function as a type of walker, since U.S.-style walkers would be much too slow for the grandmothers as they zip around.

I feel I should also mention that old people here are the group most likely to give up their seat on the bus for Liam & I. (The next most likely group are women in their 20s and 30s. Teenagers are the least likely, in their own little world with their headphones on most of the time.) I have declined ("Kontenio." That's okay.) when the seat is offered by a frail-looking old person. Come on, I don't need the seat THAT badly!

a head wound, a domestic disturbance and infernal itching

No, these things are not really connected. Maybe someday I'll write a story in which they are.

The head wound is actually part of the continuing (even though I said it was over) saga of Bossy Grandma. She struck again.

I met up with Min Jeong, my Korean mommy friend, at the playground one evening. I was sitting on a bench, feeding Liam a snack -- and therefore captive -- when Bossy Grandma sat down beside me. She had the nerve (THE NERVE!) to touch my belly and start telling me AGAIN that Liam is too young for me to be having another baby. She used her concerned face and everything. In English, I told her, "Yes, you've already told me that. And it's none of your business." I tried to ignore her after that, although the kids who were watching Liam eat his fruit leather kept translating for her.

Perhaps 10 or 15 minutes later, Liam started one of his favorite pastimes: jumping off a bench. His friend Jun Min quickly followed, and so did Little Chunk (grandson of Bossy). Liam probably made a dozen successful, unassisted jumps before his foot caught and he went down headfirst onto the gravelly sand. Of course, Bossy Grandma jumped on him before I could take the two steps between us. I had to practically push her off my child so that I could comfort him. I was cuddling him and heading for the nearest empty bench to assess the damage when Bossy Grandma started talking to me. Of course, I ignored her, but then one of the kids started saying "pee, pee," which means "rain" or "blood" in Korean, and pointing to Liam's head. At that point, I pulled him off my shoulder and looked at his head. Sure enough, there was a patch of bright red blood in his white-blond hair. I quickly said goodbye to Min Jeong, grabbed my bag, and headed up to the apartment with Liam, shooing away the future ambulance-chasers who tried to get a good look at Liam's head.

The conclusion of this story is that once I cleaned the blood up, the wound obviously wasn't very serious. We ran into Matthew's pediatrician friend the next day, who said it was just a "surface abrasion." He has a little scab that his hair mostly hides. I haven't run into Bossy Grandma since then, but I'm sure when I do, I'll get an earful about my poor child and why I shouldn't let him jump off benches. Oy vey.

The domestic disturbance occurred last night. Liam went to bed early and I was checking e-mail and otherwise wasting time, when I heard a man's angry voice. After a few minutes, a woman started yelling back. I realized it was our next door neighbors. The windows to the hallway were open, so I could hear (but not understand) every word they were saying. I wasn't trying to understand. Then their son (about three or four years old), started crying. I shut the windows. I find this incident worth writing about not because it's that unusual. The same thing could happen in any apartment complex in the U.S. But I didn't know what to do. In the U.S., I would either stick my head out the door and ask if everything is okay, or call the police, depending on the severity of the argument. Other than the raised voices and tone, I don't know how serious it was. I could ask if she's okay, but would I understand her reply? Is that socially acceptable here? I could call the police, but what would I say? Matthew took some fresh-baked cinnamon rolls over this evening and said the mom and son were home and seemed fine. (Hopefully they split the third cinnamon roll before the husband came home!)

And, finally, the infernal itching. Liam and I have about a brazillion mosquito bites each, including on our faces. They don't seem to bother Matthew much. He is either not as sweet as we are (very possible), doesn't visit the playground as often (but I'm positive we get most of the bites while we're sleeping) or drinks enough alcohol to keep them at bay. ("Move on! This one ain't tasty!") I cannot wait for a nice dry autumn. Death to all mosquitoes!

Photo documentation of my poor little man's bites:



And thus ends my whining. Until next time.

Hiking Korean-style

After two days of rain, Sunday was a perfect day for a hike. We decided to head to Mt. Seorak to do the waterfall hike: short enough for Liam, easy enough for me, but interesting enough for Matthew.

In the slideshow:
Views of the stream facing east (toward the Sea of Japan) and west (toward cable car).
The first part of the hike winds through a forested area.
Matthew enjoyed searching for caterpillars along the way, and plans to return this winter (with Liam, hopefully) to look for cocoons and chrysallises.
Suddenly, there is a clearing in the woods. Hiking (even just a short ways) stirs up an appetite for food, drink, and souveniers. A proprietress tries to talk Matthew & Liam into potato pancake or wild mountain grape wine. (Unfortunately for her, we'd packed PB&J sandwiches.)
The second part of the hike is fairly steep (mostly stairs) alongside some gorgeous waterfalls.
At the trail's end, Matthew carries Liam back up from the water to eat some lunch. Notice the women in the foreground decked out in serious hiking gear.



This hike was our introduction to Seorak National Park almost three years ago. I haven't done the hike since then, so this was an interesting return. Three years ago, we were a childless couple, just arrived in a new country. It's amazing how much has changed since then, but the hike is just as beautiful as ever. We're looking forward to doing it again in a few months when the leaves are changing colors.

I've figured out...

The bossy grandmother that I talked about in my old folks post is my honorary Korean mother-in-law.

One day, Matthew, Liam and I got into the elevator to head down to the park for an evening stroll. Bossy Grandma was already in the elevator with Little Chunk in his stroller. She scolded us for not having Liam in a stroller. "You can't carry him everywhere," seemed to be her argument. We pantomimed that he walks most of the time. Matthew was a bit surprised by her behavior, until I told him that she is the grandmother who tells me everything I'm doing wrong with Liam.

The sad thing is that Little Chunk is probably her son's little boy, meaning that her actual daughter-in-law has to put up with CONSTANT nagging. I'm assuming that she also works, considering how often I see Grandma Bossy with Little Chunk. That poor, poor woman that I don't even know.

Recently, Matthew ran into Bossy Grandma in the elevator, minus Little Chunk. She seemed to be complaining to him about how Little Chunk pinches her, as she was showing him bruises. I know it's evil of me, but I had to chuckle. I wonder if her daughter-in-law has trained Little Chunk to pinch Bossy Grandma.

우리는 미친 미국 사람이에요

Pron: urinun michin miguk seuram ieyo
Trans: We are crazy American people.

Why are we crazy?, you ask.

We are the crazy Americans who walk to the park in the rain, when no one else is outside.

We are the crazy Americans who don't even carry umbrellas if it's only sprinkling.

We are the crazy Americans who let our son play in puddles, knowing that we can take him home and throw him in the bathtub.

We are the crazy Americans who are having a lot more fun than everyone else.

(The pictures are from a previous day when it wasn't raining at all. This Sunday it was sprinkling just enough to interfere with picture-taking. Today it is full-on pouring. Oh, and the rain boots, while cute, are highly ineffective when he splashes water up over the tops. We've reverted to sandals.)