freaky footed fish

Since Liam loves looking at the fish for sale here (as in to be cut up and eaten fresh, fresh, fresh), we've seen pretty much every species of fish eaten in Korea. We've seen these ugly guys (not the ugliest, however, that title belongs to the Pacific Lumpsucker) around before, but just realized recently that they have FEET. What kind of crazy, mutant fish has FEET? No, that's a real question. When I google "Korea fish feet," the results I get are all for "doctor fish," the fish I wrote about yesterday which nibble the dead skin off your feet. Does anyone know what these fish are called?

(I apologize for the poor quality of the photo. The fish were in a weird-shaped tank.)

dunkin' donuts: korean style

Dunkin' Donuts is a little different here. Although some of the "normal" donuts are still available, they also have unusual options, like sweet potato muffins, glutinous rice donuts, and most recently (as part of an "international line" kimchi or "lentils curry" croquettes.



We were all a little skeptical (including Rowan), but my mother-in-law decided to buy one for everyone to try.



It was actually really good. So good that later in the week, when Matthew and I left the boys with his parents to go on a morning "date," and realized, yet again, that most coffee shops in Korea don't open until noon, and ended up at DD, I had my own curry croquette and Matthew tried the kimchi one. The kimchi was actually quite delicious as well, confirming my opinion that cooked kimchi is okay.



This is just Liam trying to be as cool as the guy on the advertisement.

huh?

The doorbell rang this morning. Liam and I were eating ice cream after a trip to the playground. Matthew & Rowan were taking a nap in the bedroom, so I answered the door.

It was a strange man. The first thing he said was, "아기?" and then in English, "baby?" He was kind of looking past me at Liam, but I couldn't figure out what he wanted. The next thing he asked was, "American?" I answered, "Yes." He then switched to Korean, which I didn't understand and told him as much in Korean.

Usually, unexpected visitors either (a) have the wrong apartment, in which case they quickly apologize and leave, (b) are building maintenance workers there to check the gas line or spray, in which case they show me their clipboard and equipment, etc., or (c) want to convert me to their religion, including the teenage Mormon "elders" (one Korean, one American) who were very shocked to see a white woman answer the door. This guy didn't fit into any of those categories. I couldn't understand what he wanted at all.

"What do you want?" I asked in English. See what a witty conversationalist I am? The whole time he was just kind of smiling weirdly. "I don't know what you want, so I'm just going to shut the door," I said. He was already starting to walk away as I did so.

I realize that living here has made me paranoid, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would say he came by just to get a look at the foreign kid. I'll probably never know, though, which is one of the things about living here that is so frustrating.

standard conversation; strange question

Sometimes when I try to speak Korean, I am embarrassed by my pathetic language skills. Other times, like today, I feel like I'm not too bad.

I was at the playground with the boys, actually waiting for my friend to come down with her children. A woman sat down beside me on the bench after removing the baby boy strapped to her back with a podaegi.* She also had a little girl a bit older than Liam. She looked at Rowan in the stroller beside me and pronounced the usual expressions of cuteness. She was soon joined by two men (husband and brother-in-law would be my guess) with another little girl around the same age. The two little girls ran off to play and the men began conversing with the woman. The man I assumed to be her husband asked her if Rowan was a boy. I replied that he is, at which point she decided to start a conversation with me, since I obviously understand and speak a minimal level of Korean.

The following conversation took place almost completely in Korean, except she did say "teacher" and "January" in English, although I know those words in Korean.

KW: How old is he?
Me: 6 months. Your son?
KW: 7 months, born in December. Your son was born in January?
Me: No, December. December 30. Your son?
KW: December 13. Do you live in Buyoung? (That's the name of our apartment complex.)
Me: Yes. (gesturing vaguely at my building)
KW: You speak Korean very well.
Me: No, just a little. I don't speak well yet.
KW: Are you a teacher?
Me: Me? No. My husband is a teacher.
KW: Korean? American?
Me: My husband?
KW: Yes.
Me: American. (Amazingly, I said this without laughing.)

Now, maybe she hasn't seen many babies with mixed Korean and Caucasian parentage. I have. They're almost all absolutely gorgeous, and they have very definite Asian features. She had looked closely at Rowan before this. I'm pretty sure it would be genetically impossible for a child with a Korean parent to look like Rowan.

The conversation basically petered out after that. I was, however, proud of the fact that I did not once have to say, "I don't understand" or "I don't know," phrases which I find myself uttering all too often in Korean.

I'm still scratching my head over the question of whether my boys are half-Korean, though.


*The podaegi (also spelled podegi and pronounced po DEG ee with a long "o", a hard "g" similar to the "g" in "golf" or "go" and a long "e") is a Korean carrier with a medium to large rectangle of fabric hanging from a very long strap. Traditionally the rectangle is quilted for warmth and wraps around the mother's torso, while the straps are wrapped snug under the baby's bottom and tied around to the front to support and secure the baby on the mother's back. Western interest in the podaegi style has led to new wrapping methods which do go over the shoulders, and to narrower "blankets". (Definition courtesy of Wikipedia article: Baby sling.)

just another day in "paradise"

It rained until noon -- thunder, lightning, the works -- then abruptly stopped and the sun came out.

Just when we'd decided that nursery school wasn't going to work out, because Liam didn't want to go, he pitched a fit that Matthew was going to return his backpack. So Matthew took him to school, paid for June, left him there crying, and...this was the first day he didn't bite anyone. He was in a great mood when I picked him up.

At the playground, some kids let their dog crap all over the playground. I supplied the "water tissue" (baby wipes) to clean up the dog poop. Maybe 10 minutes later, a dead mouse seemingly materialized from out of nowhere. One minute everything was fine, the next minute one of the moms was standing on a bench screaming. All the other moms kind of wandered off, leaving almost a dozen elementary school kids to poke at the poor, dead, most likely disease-infested rodent. My friend finally went to fetch a doorman to dispose of it. He apparently just threw it on top of the bagged garbage in the dumpster area.

On the way home, waiting for the elevator, a grandmother was trying to figure out Rowan's gender. Another mom told her that he's a boy. So then she asked me if both boys were, well, boys. And she actually gestured at herself, like, "Do they have penises?" I replied in English, "Yes, they have penises." (I also told her in Korean that they are both sons.)

The last thing was actually yesterday, but I got stuck in the elevator going down with nosy grandmother. She was babbling away to Rowan, then suddenly reached out and touched my breast. What? I told her (in Korean), "Don't touch me," and looked at her like she's insane, which I seriously think she may be.

Seriously weird. Is it a full moon?