Busan Observatory, Geumjeong Sanseong Fortress and Food Poisoning!!

24 hours after my last post, our meal from our TaLK trip to Juwangsan Park decided to make a violent exit from my body in the form of 5 days of food poisoning resulting in a massive fever, being bed-stricken and not eating anything except nibbles of the b.r.a.t. diet (bananas, rice, apples and toast). I should have, WOULD have stayed home except that I cannot miss any more days of class and if fellow teachers suspected I was ill, I would have been hustled to an E.R. to get tested for Swine flu (on MY dime-$200!!) quicker than I could blink. So, Teacher Katy did not move from her chair for an entire week of class. It sucked, but I survived.

Last weekend was our planned trip to Jeju island, but due to my illness and Shaina deciding that she didn't want to go after all, we ended up doing another weekend in Busan. Unfortunately, I was still fairly ill, and a weekend full of hiking in the freezing weather has left me with a bad cold. I leave for Alaska on December 16th to spend Christmas with Ian, so I am trying like Hell to get decently healthy before I board that plane for 27 hours of traveling.

As for Busan, it was mind-numbingly cold. Busan is a coastal city and is the second largest city next to Seoul, meaning it's enormous and constantly struggling with it's "second city syndrome" and trying to one up Seoul. When you look at a tourist map of Busan, every inch of the city is titled as "historic site" this and "cultural heritage" site that. I don't know about you, but a fish market does not make the cut as a cultural heritage site in my book.

When we arrived at Busan, we staked out a love hotel to dump all of our bags. We chose the "Camus Motel", which was pleasingly swanky for a love hotel. Internet, a full-sized bed and a hobbit-sized bathtub! We were tickled that it was only 50,000 a night but the owner let us know that we couldn't come back to the hotel until nighttime because that's when "business" begins... 0.0

The bathroom door. A nice change since they are usually just completely see-through.

My hips could barely squish down into the tub but OH! How delicious it was to take a bath. I think I marinated for near an hour before donning my complimentary robe and collapsing onto the bed.

A mirror above the bed....
Amanda, enjoying the high-speed internet. Love hotels are good for so many laughs because you are constantly reminded in small ways that the room is designed for a very specific clientele (young couples who have no place to go because they still live at home!) For example, I was surfing the channels on tv when I bumped a button that suddenly projected the computer screen onto the tv's massive flat screen. Let your mind wander.


Shaina, Eunice and Amanda were vibing some lunch, so we headed to one of the fish markets to haggle for some sashimi. I passed on the meal for obvious reasons and ended up eating tangerines and a bag of salted almonds to be safe. Busan's fish market smelled particularly pungent after my week, so I passed on all the samples of raw fish that the vendors kept shoving at me, slipping around on their black rubber gloves.


You can amuse yourself for hours watching the live octopus tanks. Despite the mesh coverings
lining the rim of the bowl, octopus are excellent escape artists. This guy switched bowls about five times before plopping down onto the asphalt for a mad dash to the water. I guess a "mad dash" for an octopus is still pretty slow, so he was caught easily enough by a very elderly man who had been munching on the Korean version of a twinkie. The man tossed the twinkie on his lap, grabbed the octopus with the same bare hand and tossed him back into the bowl before he continued eating. Yuck!


After lunch, we decided to head to the furthest tip of Busan city, known as the "observatory point". After a winding, hair-raising bus ride along seaside cliffs we arrived at a park that was set up along the ocean. just when we thought we would have to walk all the way up a mountain to get to the observatory tower, a bright green, yellow and orange train drove up to he entrance. It was similar to the shuttles that take you to and from the entrance of an amusement park. So, we hopped on for 1,500 won and rode the train to the observation tower for a breathtaking view of the white-capped water and sun-drenched cliffs below.

At the observatory. I believe the needle is pointing to Japan.

You may have to enlarge this photo to see them, but there are several ajumma (elderly Korean women) on the cliffs, peddling their catch of the day. You can climb down the treacherous rocky paths to where these women are situated and eat the freshest seafood of your life for whatever price you manage to haggle down to (and it's ALWAYS cheap). I think I might laugh at the guy working the seafood counter at the grocery store when he tells me the seafood is really fresh.

Only in Korea can you climb around slippery cliffs at sunset, buffeted so hard with the wind that you almost fall over into the water completely unsupervised.

Shaina and Amanda, soaking up the scenery. We all perched on the rocks, shivering and watching the massive ships heading out to sea, glinting in the sunlight. It was fantastic.

I snapped this moments before loading into the bus that would take us back to the center of Busan city. Korea is a beautiful country, and I will miss the sight of mountains on the horizon dearly when I return home.

That night, we all wanted something HOT to eat! What better than traditional Korean winter fare: soup! So we stopped into a Korean restaurant and ordered 2 dinners a piece and all paid less than 6 dollars for the entire meal. I ordered spicy tofu and pepper soup and tuna bibimbap (rice with shredded vegetables and spicy chili paste). We all shared bowl after bowl of miso soup and shredded seaweed with sesame oil too. It was a feast fit for royalty. That night, Shaina and Eunice decided to go out drinking while Amanda and I stayed in to get to bed at a decent hour. I didn't want my Sunday to be ruined from lack of sleep, which turned out to be the right decision because Amanda and I had a wonderful adventure the next day.
Sunday morning at Dunkin Donuts. It's not the Dunkin Donuts you know in love in the states. Korean Dunkin Donuts serves creations like the "kimchi croquette", which is a garlic roll stuffed with spicy cabbage and anchovy paste. How about pairing that with your coffee?


I realized that I have been in Korea for nearly half a year and I have not taken many photos of all the squat toilet signs I've encountered. In Korea, the typical bathroom usually has a row of all squat toilets and a single "Western" toilet, usually reserved for mom's with little kids or handicapped people. Squat toilets free up faster, so it's usually the toilet of choice if you are in a rush, but that doesn't mean Westerners are as adept at the kimchi squat. I have seen so many foreigners with suspect wet spots around the bottoms of their pants where misfires occurred.
Jay, my mentor teacher, has mentioned a fortress in Busan to me several times, saying that it would be worth a trip. So, Amanda and I rallied on Sunday and took the subway to the end of the line as far North as it would go. Once off the subway, we took the most terrifying and nauseating bus ride of our lives up a winding mountain PATH (you can't call that thing a road..) to the top where we were dropped off. Geumjeong Sanseong Fortress is massive and loops around several bordering mountains. The walls are ancient but mostly intact, and you could spend days hiking to each gate. We hiked to the South gate and wanted to call it a day soon after just because it was so strenuous.
South gate
This crazy volleyball/kickball hybrid sport that Koreans love to play.

Eating lunch along the ancient fortress wall. This photo was taken at around 1:30 p.m. and every Korean we passed along the way was halfway loaded with Soju already. Drinking culture is huge here!
We decided to ride the cable car down the mountain because the scenery was too beautiful to pass up. Unfortunately, we were corralled in with about 20 drunk, old Korean men and women who were playing grab ass and acting more juvenile than teenagers. Amanda and I were horrified and amused to see all these old men and women pinching each other's butts and exchanging casual kisses the whole ride down. The cable car reeked of soju and it was incredibly awkward to be the only two foreigners around but we won't soon forget the experience.

Once we were back in town, Amanda and I decided to go back to the same restaurant where we ate dinner just because the owners were so friendly. We drank gallons of miso soup while we relaxed indoors (waiting for Shaina and Eunice to meet up with us so we could take the train back to Daegu). The owners packaged our dinners up to go, and we got back to Daegu around 10p.m.

Thanksgiving, The Zoo and Juwangsan Park

Like the belligerent Americans we are, my friends and I refused to forgo a traditional Thanksgiving meal and braved the elements to come together for a homemade dinner in the lobby of one of the dorms at Keimyung University. I will forever be the champion of holiday celebrations, so I'd been been harassing my friends for weeks about this dinner. We all went shopping together to split the cost for ingredients, and ended up paying 14,000 won apiece to concoct what I consider to be a damn fine replica of a Thanksgiving dinner considering there are no OVENS in Korea!

Our dinner consisted of stir fried apples which I coated with cinnamon-y toasted oatmeal (yes, I sacrificed oatmeal for this meal!), smashed potatoes with garlic, sweet potatoes (the indigo-colored Korean kind), 2 roasted chickens, a canned vegetable mixture of peas, carrots and corn, a loaf of bread and peanut M&Ms. Quite the sumptuous feast for 4 American girls feeling achingly disconnected from the celebration back home. Since we all have to work on weekdays, we did not get around to the dinner until 9p.m., but the company was worth it and we all stockpiled leftovers to continue the food revelry the next day!

It was frigid outside and the walk to the university dorms was long, so I wrapped all the food I cooked in towels and stacked the containers in my backpack to try and keep them warm.
Garlic smashed potatoes- a salty, buttery success!
Shaina, who informed us that she is not celebrating Thanksgiving with her kids because she wants to do a week on Hanukkah instead to "represent. " :)
We were so cold and hungry! The girl to the far right is Amanda's (center) co-teacher for class. She probably thought this was the strangest celebration ever. We were all flustered trying to explain Thanksgiving to her, and the fact that almost all the food for Thanksgiving is baked and takes days to prepare and cook. She just kept nodding and smiling and we were like "nooooooo, really! Americans eat phenomenal food on this day- believe us!"
So good in 20 degree weather!
Purple sweet potatoes!
My apple crumble creation- made with oatmeal, cinnamon, nutmeg, apples and stevia!
Last picture, I promise. We just don't get much American-type food over here, so we were all very excited.

In class, I devoted an entire week to Thanksgiving festivities. I showed the kids "Garfield's Thanksgiving" and had each class make hand turkeys as Thanksgiving cards for their parents. Most Koreans have never seen a turkey, so the different interpretations of a "hand turkey" were hilarious! Many students literally drew their hands (fingernails, wrinkles and all) and some students drew rooster-like creatures with dancing corn and pies around them (we learned about traditional Thanksgiving food, too).
This is Jessica, but I call her "the monkey" because the moment she sees me, she wraps around one of my legs like a chimp and SJ has to pry her off before I can start class (or worse- all the other students start entangling themselves around my legs trying to hitch a ride).

I think the last time that I visited a zoo, I was on my middle school trip to Washington D.C. I've always considered zoos to be one of the most depressing places you could go...and Daegu's zoo was no exception. The best way I can describe the experience is that it was like a train wreck and even though you should, you couldn't look away.

It was a crisp 30 degree day when we visited, and even in a sunbeam my teeth were chattering. The zoo was easily overlooked because upon first glance you think you just accidentally wandered into a little park in the middle of the city until you spot the dingy, rusted cage bars bordering the park. The cages were miserably small, made of concrete and barely had enough room for the birds to spread their wings let alone give the jaguars room to sprawl out. There was everything from lions and tigers to wolves, seals and one old, decrepit elephant that looked suspiciously like he was shaking in the cold. I was with Eunice and Shaina and we all had a teary-eyed moment watching the elephant stand there scraping peanuts out of the dust and lifting them up to his foamy, crusted mouth before disappearing back into some sort of iron cage the size of a small shed.

It was tragic... and it makes me at least appreciate the seeming cleanliness of the zoo I remember visiting. Although I took some pictures, they wouldn't do anything except depress you, so I won't bother uploading them.

On a much more positive note, we also completed another TaLK-sponsored cultural trip. This time, the destination was Juwangsan Park, a very popular national park full of waterfall-rimmed hiking trails and renowned for serving up famous Korean Ginseng chicken, which is just a porridge of boiled rice with some ginseng in it and an entire chicken placed in the bowl, which you proceed to pick apart with your chopsticks. I actually had a good laugh at the meal though (whilst munching some tofu instead) because the restaurant owners brought out these little bowls of salt for all the foreigners. Koreans use little to no salt in their cooking, and if there is one thing Americans love more than sugar, it's salt! I watched everyone scrape heaping spoonfuls into their chicken/rice porridge with great satisfaction. After eating, we all just sat there, relishing the heat radiating up from the floor. It was the warmest we would be all day because after eating, we headed for the Juwang trail head to start our walk.

Calling the trail a "hike" is a stretch since it was plain walking 95% of the time. But what beautiful scenery! There were massive cliffs and lazy, semi-frozen water falls trickling all around, giving us the impression that it was raining when really it was just misty.



A beautiful way to spend the day. If it seems like I have been hiking often, it's because this coming weekend is our trip to Jeju, the island off the southern tip of Korea. Mt. Halla is on Jeju, and it is the biggest mountain in Korea. Not to mention that we will be hiking Halla in December... so there will very likely be snow on the trail. Florida is so flat, you can fall asleep while driving and probably be fine for five minutes if you didn't touch the steering wheel. So hiking is an enormous challenge because of the altitude and the temperature! Wish me luck. There will be a new "Jeju" post coming soon, assuming that we make it back alive ;)

Golgulsa Temple

From choking down still squirming Korean cuisine to stripping down butt naked with women quadruple my age, I have dabbled in the most eccentric of Korean cultural traditions. But a big piece of the pie has been missing: delving into the extremely foreign and ancient religion of Buddhism.

Korea is a predominantly Buddhist country, and I often find myself bumping into monks decked in traditional gray cotton garb in the most mundane of settings (a monk had to nudge me once because I was sitting on the sleeve of his robe without realizing it!) The beauty of the Buddhist faith is that it invites people from all religions to come and find similarities in Buddhism that mirror those highlighted in their own faith. Point in case: the temple stay.

This past weekend, Shaina, Amanda and I set out for Golgulsa Temple, a Buddhist temple famed for it's very accessible (meaning they have a monk who speaks ENGLISH!) temple stay program. Temple stays are a means to dip a toe in Buddhism; to test the waters, so to speak. For however long you pay for, you can sleep, eat, chant, pray and essentially coexist with the resident monks to get a crash course in Buddhism. There is no quicker way to learn the tenets of an ancient religion than to shadow someone who devotes their every waking moment to its practice.

2 subway lines and 3 bus rides got us to Golgulsa's gates at around 4:30pm, and with Korea's temperatures plummeting into the 20s and below in the evening, our cups of green tea were clattering around on their saucers as we tried to warm up in the main office. It was 40,000 won for 2 days and 1 night of Buddhist life- a bargain when you consider you get all your meals included, tea time, exercise classes and a place to sleep.

A hollow wooden gourd is tapped to signal the beginning of prayers and meal times, so we were delighted to hear the "tap tap-tap-tap" sounding off at 5:30p.m. Luckily, my one prior experience with Buddhist dining at Dhongwasa temple prepared me for the meal. Buddhists believe in moderation, so eating is simply a ritual to fuel the body. So what does that mean? That means that you better elbow your way in front of all those little bald men or there won't be any tofu left! A Buddhist meal is typically finished in under 30 minutes and you are REQUIRED to eat every bit of what you serve yourself. And I mean every. bit. If you leave even a single grain of rice behind, the women behind the counter who prepared the meal are likely to swat you with a ladle and you will be sentenced to bowing punishment by the Grand Master (the big daddy monk in residence). And let me tell you- bowing is no joke! 1 bow is actually a complicated series of kneeling and placing your forehead on a mat three times in succession and punishment bows are prescribed in the thousands. For example: you are late to chanting- that's 3,000 bows, please. I'm sure you are scoffing and saying to yourself "yeah right, like someone would actually do that many bows." Let me attest: it's real! It generally takes anywhere from 13-18 hours for a 3,000 bow punishment to be completed (and punishment bows can go higher than 8,000!!) I was never late... to anything!

See?

After our meal of tofu, kimchi, rice, slivered onions, sesame spinach and red bean dok (rice cake), we had to get changed and walk in the arctic, thought-obliterating cold to sunmudo training, which is Buddhist martial arts. 90 minutes of it. The training began with chanting for 1/2 an hour. Unfortunately, it was all in Korean, so I mouthed some of the sounds but I haven't the faintest what I was saying. Following chanting is meditation, the most important aspect of Buddhism. When I asked one of the monks what the most important principle behind Buddhism is, he told me it is to know yourself. That sounds pretty spacey, but it has to do with the fact that until you know yourself through and through, you cannot hope to connect with the divine at all because baser human inclinations like pride, anger, lust etc. would interfere (sound familiar?). Meditation is used to quiet your mind so you can get beneath all that and realize that every single human being is the same, and all of our struggles in life are completely self-imposed.

I'd like to tell you that something miraculous happened and that I had a true moment of zen huddled on the cold wooden floors of the training room. I could lie and say that the heavens parted, and infinite wisdom and peace rained down upon me in my supreme meditative state and that I awoke enlightened. But no. I sat there for another half hour, shaking from the cold, muttering in my mind over a numb butt and lower back pain and worrying when I would next get an opportunity to go pee before this running and jumping martial arts business started up. (As a side note, I asked the Sunmudo master what he does to combat the stiff back that sitting cross-legged on a hard floor will give you and he said with a huge, endearing smile: "Why, I sit on my couch, of course.") Once the actual Sunmudo began it was 9pm. We began with light stretching (one of the moves was to rub your belly and smile!) before channeling animal movements into our exercises: running around smacking your knuckles on the ground like a chimp, slithering on the floor like a dragon and running on all fours like a tiger. And then we played leap frog! Quite possibly the BEST game of leap frog ever! There were 2 monks present among all the temple-stay participants and they were vaulting over people, laughing uproariously and acting like children. Once sunmudo was finished, we had to bundle back up and traverse the vertical, hellish hill to our room, which housed 6 people. It was Korean style, meaning we slept on a few blankets on the floor, but we all tried to go to bed as quickly as possible because.... here's the clincher.... monks get up at 4 IN THE MORNING!! Apparently, that's when the cosmos begin to jive. CLICK HERE for a video of some of the chanting.

None of us slept though. The wooden building was creaking like a haunted house all night and the gale force winds were seeping through the rice paper coverings on the doors. And the wind chime. OH the wind chime... I wanted to rip it from the rafters and chuck it into the woods, but I didn't want to be smote by Buddha or anything, so we all lay there listening to clanging metal bits and groaning floorboards until 4a.m. rolled around and a junior monk came chanting around our building, knocking on the same wooden gourd. Buddhist courtesy wake-up call. Chanting and meditation lasted for an hour and a half, and it was a comical juxtaposition: bleary-eyed, shivering foreigners, poised stiffly on the floorboards, glancing obsessively at the clock ticking away the seconds next to these serene little mounds of gray robes with bald heads poking out, oblivious to the temperature and the time; happy to be there. Oh, and since Buddha traveled the world with a dog at his side, there are all these husky-type dogs (a specific breed in Korea known as the Jindo) walking around next to the monks, acting just as zen. They had their own pillows in the temple and were sprawled out, relaxing among the fog of incense and trance-inducing chanting.

Breakfast was at 5:50 after walking meditation (outside!). Because it was Sunday, we were allowed to observe and participate in Balwoo-gongyang: the traditional 4 bowl meal that Buddhists use to promote mindfulness when eating. The bowls come to you stacked within one another like Russian nesting dolls. You have a rice bowl, soup bowl, vegetable bowl and water bowl. At the beginning of the meal, a splash of water is poured into the rice bowl and you use it to rinse out each bowl before the food is put in BUT you don't throw the water out: you keep it in the water bowl. The ultimate point of the meal is to clean your bowls so there is not a single particle of food left over in your bowl once the meal has finished. You are supposed to savor and appreciate every facet of the meal from the work that went into producing the food, to chewing to reveling in the sensation of being full at the end. It's a simple meal of rice and vegetables, and at the end, a junior monk will give you some hot water to wash out your rice bowl. You take a piece of kimchi (you are supposed to save 1 piece for this exact purpose) and scrub the bowls clean using the kimchi and chopsticks. Moving the water form bowl to bowl, you clean each one until you have some hot water with a few spices floating in it at the end. You drink this and eat the piece of kimchi. Rinse one last time with the cold water form the water bowl. A junior monk comes around and collects this cold water into a large bucket and brings it for inspection to the grand master. If the water is as clean as when it was first doled out, then the meal was a success. Many of the temple stay participants messed up and had dirty bowels or drank the water because they forgot how to correctly dispose of it- but I did the whole thing correctly! After the ceremonial breakfast meal we had tea time with one of the monks (an opportunity to discuss Buddhism and meet each other) and walked around the temple grounds until it was time for lunch. Too pooped to linger for much longer, we decided to head back home after lunch.

Walking through the countryside, trying to find Golgulsa Temple. The moment you get outside a major city, Korea becomes extremely rural. We were traipsing through rice paddies and persimmon orchards until we finally found a big wooden sign with a leftward-facing swastika, the Buddhist symbol of eternity, unity and looove.
This is a Jindo, a breed of dog only found in Korea. They were everywhere!

Rubbing the Buddha belly for luck.
:)
Our accommodations. Men on the ground floor, women above.
Rice paper walls DO NOT do a good job of keeping freezing wind out. Let's add something to the list of "things I miss": drywall and insulation.

6 girls to a room. Traditional Korean style with mats for the floor. Our floor heater did not work very well, so we were freezing the whole night.

Sunmudo training.

If you didn't pay attention, the penalty was a roundhouse kick to the face! Just kidding, but the monks were sparring. So cool to watch.

UPDATE ON PEPERO DAY:

So much for banning Pepero day, Maegok was awash in Pepero wrappers by the time class let out. I ate every single pepero I was given and had the best sugar high of my life that evening. here are some pic of some of my first graders, pepero in-hand.
Note the flu masks.
Juliet- the cutest 1st grader EVER!

Weekend in Seoul, Billibow and Peppero Day

If I were a car, the needle would be pointing to a 3/4 tank full of gas-I am still rearing to go. Taking stock of my experiences thus far in Korea, I admit that I'm impressed with my steadfast optimism; not my usual forte. During orientation, we were warned that shortly following the "Honeymoon" phase of our love affair with Korea, most TaLK participants would undergo a deep and bitter resentment of this country and would begin dropping from the program like flies. However, I am 3 1/2 months in, and I feel right at home.

This past weekend, Shaina's sister, Alicia, visited all the way from Boston. During the week, we all palled around in the evenings, going to cafes and making fun of all the Korean quirks that make this experiences a real gut-buster. For example, while we were waiting for Shaina and Alicia to meet us in the lobby of the train station, a drunk/homeless guy started yodeling and doing a wobbly, groin-swiveling dance. I did what any respectful expatriate abiding by customary Korean politeness would do: I filmed it. Here is the video.

Teacher Katy fulfilled her own agenda by ending classes early on Friday to make it to the train station on time. Actually, classes are somewhat of a joke lately since attendance began to plummet. My 2nd grade class of 38 students has petered down to a mere 7 because parents all across Korea are gripped with the Swine Flu panic. Every holiday and field trip has been cancelled, and most national and state attractions (theme parks, nature preserves, the zoo, etc.) have been closed to prevent the flu from spreading. Alcohol hand sanitizing machines are sprouting up overnight in the subways like metal weeds, and the "subway salespeople" I mentioned in my last post have tossed their nutcrackers and and are peddling face masks instead. They sell out every time. Maybe all of these preventative measures would do some good if Koreans young and old understood the first thing about contagious illness: that you don't violently cough/sneeze in each other's face!!!! This is every foreigner's biggest gripe with Korean people: their utter lack of germ-conscientiousness. Example: I am seated next to a 40ish woman on the subway. She has to cough. Does she face the other direction and send her phlegmy rain of spittle away from my person? No. She leans her head back and fires it, cannon-like, into the air to hover in a viral cloud around my face. Example 2: Teacher Katy is grading activity books. The child offers me his/her book and simultaneously sneezes across my keyboard and then proceeds to wipe their face with their wrist, smearing dirt/snot/candy residue from their mouths in streaks across their cheeks.
My school has asked me to wear a mask. I think I look like Reptile or Subzero off of Mortal Kombat.
We arrived at Seoul at 9p.m. Friday night. Unfortunately, our first hour and a half was spent walking, walking, walking in search of a love hotel to leave our stuff in. When we finally found one, the owner was already asleep (the owners sleep on mats on the floors in tiny rooms with sliding windows barely big enough to fit your hand through). We had to keep tapping on the window until he woke up, crazy-eyed and disoriented to take our 60,000 won and shove 2 sets of keys to us through the window. After unloading, we headed back to the subway to ride to Hongdae: Seoul's drinking district.

I was overcome with the sensation that I was revisiting the red light district in Amsterdam the moment we arrived with flickering crimson-colored lighting bathing the narrow streets. There were bars everywhere you turned and you had to watch your step lest you slip and fall in a pile of vomit congealing on the sidewalk. Alicia, Amanda and Shaina all grabbed some soju at a bar called "With" but decided that the steep prices weren't worth it, so they hit up a "Buy The Way" (Convenience store) for some Hite beer and we headed to "Candy Candy Noraebang". "Noraebang" is Korean karaoke. You rent a room, which has sound proof walls, it's own sound system, tv, mini fridge and plush couches and chairs. Noraebang establishments have THE best selection of songs I have ever encountered, and we sand everything from "Zombie" from the Cranberries to "Part of Your World" form Aladdin.
Picking our next song.
Shaina and her sister, Alicia (left).
Ah Konglish, you never cease to amuse me.

The next day, we headed to Itaewon, which is the foreigner's district in Seoul. We cruised the streets aimlessly, picking up a few more souvenirs for people back at home, but at 4 I had to part with the rest of the group to meet with Angela, the coordinator for the TaLK program. Angela was instrumental in getting me to Korea in the first place, answering my feverish rapid-fire of e-mails at all hours of the day and night and helping me coordinate with the Korean consulate in Georgia to schedule my interview not once, not twice but 5 different times before we settled on a workable date. So, I met up with her to go and get a pedicure at some hole-in-the-wall salon that was absolutely popping when we arrived. Angela is a fascinating woman since she was born in Korea, but raised in the Middle East and Australia before returning to Korea. She says things like "No, worries mate" in an accent tinged with extremely proper Indian-esque pronunciation and then launches into Korean with the owner of the salon. Talk about a woman of the world.
My delish sashimi lunch in Itaewon.
Shaina made a kimchi and rice pumpkin!
That night I had my first rendezvous with another traditional Korean dish: rice porridge. A continuous light drizzle and chilly wind left us feeling like popsicle people by evening, so when I suggested a porridge restaurant, the girls were down. Korean porridge is usually made from white rice boiled down into a paste-like consistency, then mixed with ground sesame seeds, seaweed flakes and whatever flavors you want like tofu, shrimp, crab or ::gulp:: abalone- a crustacean that takes a hand saw to cut open and tastes like bitter shoe leather. I had broccoli and tofu and it was divine- like a warm brick in my belly for the rest of the evening.
Korean porridge!
Every so often you will find these signs for a "special massage". It's always the most expensive, and sometimes it only appears on the list once night has fallen.
On Sunday, Shaina had to accompany her sister back to the airport, so Amanda and I headed to a Jimjilbang (public bath) to pass the time before Shaina got back and we would take the train back to Daegu. It was glorious as it always is, and we both actually fell asleep on our mats, lying on the heated wooden floors, surrounded by Korean families snacking on hard-boiled eggs, tangerines and boiled sweet potatoes. I have a hard life, don't I?

Back in the grind in Daegu, the only time to go out is during the evening once everyone is finished with their classes and lesson planning. Foreigners have repeatedly mentioned a bar called "Billibow" as a great place to go to hear Western music and, of course, play billibow. Billibow is a nickname for a game that is a fusion of billiards and bowling. You hit a pool ball with a pool stick down a long bowling lane to knock over miniaturized pins at the end. Strangely enough, I scored the same in billibow as I would during normal bowling (90-120 range)!
Look what I found!

Peppero Day is the most genius business idea I have ever witnessed. It's a national holiday that really isn't an official holiday at all. Peppero are a popular candy in Korea (think very thin bread stick covered in chocolate- almost like a Take 5 candy bar in the States). it's celebrated on November 11 (11/11) because peppero resemble the number 1. Koreans go mad buying up all these Peppero arrangements (in the shapes of stars and hearts,etc.) from the store to give to their significant other, friends and family. It's a bit like Valentine's day. However, because of the Swine Flu panic, Maegok (my school) does not condone celebrating Peppero Day. As I am writing this, I am preparing to go to class, and I am eager to see if Peppero Day will still happen. My guess is it will be as popular as ever since my kids were thrusting peppero in my face all day yesterday despite chastising and warnings from the Principle.

Expect an update to this post with news on my first ever Peppero Day!