Ryan and I have grown accustomed to many cultural differences since living abroad.
As a sign of respect, we use two hands when giving or receiving an item. A polite bow has now replaced a handshake when meeting new people, and we've learned to remove our shoes when entering many restaurants and all homes.
One of the things we haven't grown used to is the strong interest in "ddong", literally translated to "shi*." Our students spell it out in English (to avoid saying the word itself), using two ''d"s to create a distinct sound, one that differentiates it from the similar Korean word "dong," meaning neighborhood.
Much, much different.
It's not uncommon for young children to mold their hands together forming a type of gun, and to then use said "gun" to rudely explore the backsides of their classmates (and sometimes the unfortunate English teacher). The act ("ddong cheem") translates literally to "shi* fingers."
Oh the loveliness of it all.
The topic of ddong is discussed by our students much too frequently, and we've also seen the symbol for it depicted in stickers and notebooks.
Ddong it seems, is unavoidable.
As we explored Seoul's Insadong last week, we noticed an unusually long line at an outdoor food stand. Curious, we sidestepped the queue for a closer look. We quickly realized the popular treat was a pastry in the shape of.......
you guessed it: a pile of d-d-o-n-g.
Hungry?
We weren't.
I'll stick to h-o-t-t-e-o-k, thank you very much.
I forgot how different it is to shop for groceries here in Korea. The labels are foreign, the contents are often a mystery, and you're never quite certain if that's dish soap or hand soap that you're taking home.
When I spent the better part of a morning grocery shopping last week, it all came back to me. I found myself squinting at the labels and sale tags in bewilderment.
Hmmm, which soy sauce should I get? Your guess is as good as mine.
Kimchi anyone?
The cheese section was sad. No cheddar to be found. The case held a variety of specialty cheeses, and the (oddly) standard shredded mozzerella and American cheese singles.
The incredible scooter traffic we witnessed in Vietnam is infamous. One of our guidebooks rated it as an actual attraction. In a way it was mesmerizing to watch as locals weaved in and out of various lanes narrowly missing pedestrians and fellow drivers. Rather than waiting for a break in traffic (which didn't seem to exist) Ryan and I learned to keep a steady stride when crossing the street, allowing the scooters to gauge our pace and adjust their own speed accordingly. Here is a photo of the numerous scooters which accumulated at a red light and a video we shot of Ho Chi Minh City traffic in action.
Today is Election Day here in Busan. Thank God! I say that, because for the last few weeks, we have heard endless songs, chants, and other propaganda for the election. It wouldn't bother us if it wasn't reverberating right outside the doors and windows of both our school and apartment. But it is.
To campaign, the individual candidates are driven around, standing in the back of trucks and incessantly waving as if they're on parade. Each candidate has a number displayed on their person and their vehicle, to separate them from the competitors. Renditions of “Jingle Bells”, the “Beverly Hills Cop” theme song, and other recognizable and equally annoying songs are used as a background for candidates’ campaign promises. These promises boom from speakers as they drive by. On busy street corners there are loyal campaigners displaying numbers matching those of their candidates. Brightly adorning each corner, the campaigners wear matching uniforms from head to toe. To top off their attire many groups wear white gloves. Stopping every so often to bow to oncoming people and traffic, they are relentless with their support.
Today at lunch I spotted the van belonging to “Number 1”, although it happened to be unoccupied at that time. Lunch break?
Across the street from our school, an impossible to miss poster advertises mayoral candidate Number 5.
This video, filmed in Bucheon, a neighboring city, drives home the point I’ve been trying to make here. The right side seems to be cut off, but you get the idea.
From what we can gather, the election involves selecting a mayor, and voting on seats regarding education. Election day is considered a national holiday, where all the public schools are closed, giving students and teachers a day off. Remind me again why we chose to work at a private school? No day off for us.
For the last few weeks I (Ryan) had been fighting a cough and cold. I thought that like most colds it would pass in a week. But after almost a month it was still persisting. I tried to blame various sources for the lingering cold such as children and poor air quality. Whatever the cause, the cold was still there. I had been avoiding a trip to the doctor because I had no idea where one was or how I'd go about it. But, after a month the time had come. I decided to try to find a doctor and get some help. Luckily we have some great Korean co-workers that speak very good English. They are a big help with translating for us when needed. Based on one of their recommendations, I headed out in search of a doctor’s office.
Between our apartment and school I came across three pharmacies and could see numerous crosses that looked like hospitals. When Koreans get sick they always talk about going to the "hospital." I was a bit skeptical of going to a hospital about a cold, but maybe this would help explain that. I had a recommendation for a doctor’s office near the school so I started looking there. I didn't have luck finding that particular office so I stepped into a pharmacy and asked where a doctor was. They got the gist of it and pointed next door.
Sure enough, there were some green crosses and even a sign stating “internal medicine clinic” on the building next to the pharmacy.
Inside, the receptionist/ nurse spoke no English. Cue the Korean help. After a quick phone call to a co-worker I was in. Luckily the doctor spoke pretty good English (very big help). After a few quick questions we landed on bronchitis. Not great, but not a huge deal as I have had this before. I wasn't too worried. A prescription for some anti-biotics and maybe another pill or two to take and I’d be on my way. That’s where I was wrong. The doctor recommended an anti-biotic, another medicine and no drinking, just as I thought he would. But, not quite as I thought, the anti-biotic came as a shot in the rear. Of course, the doctor did not go about giving me this shot, his twenty something female receptionist/ nurse asked me in hand signals to “drop my drawers.” After that I proceeded to get my prescription paper from the same girl. The doctor asked that I come back to his "hospital" in two days as he was only giving me an Rx to last through then. So that explained the hospital bit. They don’t have “doctor’s offices” in Korea they have “hospitals” on every corner. So, after ten interesting minutes at the “hospital” I paid my 4,500 won (~$4) and I headed to the pharmacy next door to fill the given prescriptions.
At the pharmacy I handed over the paper and the pharmacist went to work. I heard multiple bottles opening and closing and a few cabinets being visited. After a few minutes she returned with a handful of meds.
Keep in mind this is for two days and after that I had to go back to get more. I was a bit skeptical of all of the different pills but as they say… “when in Korea.” The pharmacist made me take the first dose right then and there with a hot bottle of Echinacea tea. I paid my 4,000 won (~$3.50) and was out of there.
After three trips back for the same treatment I was feeling a bit better. The doctor said that if I felt better after the next two days I could stop coming in. So you guessed it. I did not make any more trips for shots and meds. I am feeling much better now. It must have worked!
Among the many places to see in Busan, two of the foreign teachers from our school had told us about Nampo-dong. Last weekend we tagged along with them on a visit there. Nampo-dong is home to a large outdoor shopping area and an enormous fresh fish market. After a thirty-minute trip nearing the end of our subway line, we had reached our destination.
Upon arrival, Starbucks was the first stop. After a quick caffeine and bagel fix we were ready for the shopping to begin.
We meandered up and down row after endless row of small shops and kiosks. There were vendors selling everything from “designer” clothes, hats, shoes and purses, to handmade artwork, office supplies and household items.
Our first bargaining/haggling experience over the prices was largely successful despite the language barrier.
After we had tired of shopping, (and Ryan had started protesting) our next stop was the fish market. It was a couple blocks over from the shops and bordered the ocean.
To get there, we walked through streets lined with tanks of octopus, eel and various other types of seafood for sale.
We quickly found the items on the street were only a preview of what was to come. As soon as we entered the large building we were instantly overwhelmed. Huge displays of live crab, octopus and lobster surrounded us on all sides.
Eels were getting skinned right before our eyes, then tossed into a bowl and still wriggling. I wish I was exaggerating.
Before...
After...Since we were getting hungry and it was past lunchtime, we decided to partake in some of the fresh seafood that was everywhere in sight. We pointed at the items we wanted and they were bagged for us. Then the people working in the booths pointed upstairs. They were offering to cook up our findings right then and there. We were escorted up the stairs and led to a table by a window overlooking the outdoor market.
As promised, here are more details on our accommodations when we first arrived in Busan. The director of our school was the only one who could communicate with the woman at the front desk. The woman insisted we leave our room key whenever we left the room which was not exactly what I wanted to do, but when in Rome I guess... She was always looking at us a bit strangely, and when Ryan knocked on the mirrored windows to get the key back (while reaching over a box of condoms placed there) she would try to talk to us in Korean... obviously to no avail at this point. I think she was surprised that we had stayed multiple nights, as most guests we were told by the other foreign teachers at the school, rent the room hourly. If you know what I mean. It was only when we were sans bags and took the stairs coming home on the second night when we noticed it. Bright pink and glowing it immediately caught our eyes. "What is that?" I said. Upon closer inspection I noticed that it was in fact, a vending machine. But it wasn't just any vending machine... See below for a good laugh!
Our original flight schedule was Monday, February 22nd from Portland to Seattle, then to Seoul and into Busan. The trip to Seattle, being only about 300 miles was a quick flight. Once there, we had some time to kill between 9:30 am and 1:40 pm when our flight to Seoul was set to take off. We paid some last minute bills, cancelled our cell phones, and pondered where to eat our last meal in the US for a year. We decided on Italian food. Once back at the gate, we discovered our plane was now delayed an hour. More time to kill.
Finally on the plane, we found our seats and our own personal TVs. After take off, we synced “The invention of lying” to watch together. It was a pretty funny movie. We were served lunch and dinner, and tried to sleep away the eleven hour flight. We had our first “Korean” meals, for Ryan, the traditional bibimbap (see link below), and for me, some Indian/tofu dish (the vegetarian option) with rice. We both tried to sleep as much as possible, and enjoyed some complimentary drinks to aid in the process.
After arriving at the Incheon/Seoul airport at local time about 8:30 pm, we went through customs and realized we had almost no time to connect to our flight to Busan.
We grabbed our bags and found a ticket
counter, only to hear that our flight had already left. Our options were these: take a bus to
Busan, or spend the night in a hotel with an airline voucher and take a flight
the following morning. Exhausted, we
decided a hotel sounded more enticing than a bus ride. We were directed to wait
for our hotel driver, who told us that since we had so many bags (sorry Ryan!)
we would have to take a van, but some of our bags would need to go into the car
in front of us. We got in the van,
reluctantly allowing our bags to disappear into the car. Then we began a windy journey to the
hotel. It was so foggy that at
times we weren’t able to see the car with our bags. I think we said goodbye to them at least twice.
Finally, after about twenty minutes of curving around
strange streets and wondering where the hell we were being taken, we arrived at
the hotel.
The woman who had driven the car in front of
us also turned out to be in charge of the front desk, which was not very
comforting. She was however very nice, and spoke English which helped
immensely. She offered us dinner and breakfast, which is when I broke the news.
“If you have any options without meat, that would help because I’m a
vegetarian.” The woman looked at me and without missing a beat asked, “Are you
sure?”
We took our first round of bags up to the room
and quickly discovered it was shoes off here. The floors are heated, which was
a nice surprise. We also discovered that we had no idea how to turn on any of
the lights. On our next trip downstairs the woman at the front desk told us to
put the hotel key in a little slot in the entryway to get the lights to work,
which did the trick. The bathroom, like most here had no curtain, and a drain
in the middle for the water to go down. There were slippers in the doorway, to
prevent slips.
Dinner arrived, donkkasu,
(panko crusted, fried pork cutlet topped with gravy) for Ryan, served with
French fries, fish soup and a mini salad (pictured right), and basically battered
and fried fish, fries, fish soup, and a mini salad for me (pictured left).Once we finished picking at our dinners, we welcomed the chance to sleep.
6:30 am the next morning, our shuttle arrived
and took us back to the airport. We found our airline, checked in and went to
the gate. Next thing we know, we were in Busan. The flight was about the
same time as it took getting from Portland to Seattle by plane. We were glad we
had decided not to take a bus the previous night.
The woman from the recruiting agency we got
our jobs through met us at the airport and informed us that we were going
straight to the school.
We took a quick trip through the city (the
drivers are crazy here), and arrived at the school where we will be teaching
for the next twelve months. We removed our shoes at the front door (so much for
all the new work shoes we had purchased and packed, but oh well) and were led
upstairs to meet the existing staff. There were some Korean teachers, and
other foreign English teachers, and the director and assistant director.
Everyone was very nice and welcoming. After spending a few minutes in the classrooms
that we would be eventually taking over, and meeting some of the adorable kids,
we were taken to the hotel we would stay in for the next few days. In order for
us to move into our apartment, the current teacher living there needed a few
more days to move out.
Our hotel was just a few blocks from the
school, down an alley with a delightful smell of garbage. The garbage here is
separated down to the smallest detail, plastic bags in one container, plastic
bottles in one, metal in another, food waste and paper in two others. Very
confusing, and ironic since there are no public garbage cans and a lot of
garbage seems to end up in the streets.
After dropping off our bags in the hotel (more
on the hotel later), we were whisked right back to the school and out to lunch
with the director, assistant director, and the other foreign English teachers.
Without realizing it, some of the guys convinced him to get donkkasu again,
which he enjoyed. For
me it was bibimbap, the traditional dish Ryan had on the plane, consisting of
strange vegetables atop rice and finished off with an over easy egg and chili
paste. Of course we were served lots of kimchi
(pickled and fermented cabbage with lots of chili paste) and pickled radishes. They are big on side dishes here, which are refillable to
no end.
We observed a couple of classes in the
afternoon, Ryan in the classrooms he will be taking over, and me in the ones I
will be taking over. We were both surprised how well the little ones, even
kindergarteners, could speak English. Speaking Korean is not allowed in the
classes, and there is a set and rigorous curriculum that the teachers follow,
which seems to deliver good results.
After some more observing, we went back to the
hotel and crashed.
