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It's Christmas time! I'm in LA, as usual, for the holidays.
I'm not feeling well at all. I don't know if it's the holidays or if I just need a change (another international move?), but it's been a struggle.
More later, but this is the state of our Christmas pile so far.
Hopefully I get merry soon!
Remember seolleongtang? Or seollontang? (That extra 'e' seems out of place to me in the first version, but that's how Wikipedia spells it.)
My entire family really loves seollongtang more than is healthy for us. We love it and crave it and will seek it out. I think my dad's favorite place when he and my mother stayed at my place for a few days was this restaurant.
Shin-Sun Seolleongtang
Gyeonggi-Do Goyang-Si Ilsan Dong-Gu Janghang-Dong 847
Telephone: 031.907.0025
신선설농탕
경기도 고양시 일산동구 장항동 847
So, of course, being wintry and freezing (fuh-reeeeezing!), my sister and I made the (two block) trek to have some seollongtang of our very own. In pictures, here's how good it was:
Sometimes, I really appreciate the fact that Korea has four distinct seasons.
I'm surprised the leaves have actually hung on as long as they have, as it's late November (Thanksgiving!! Too bad I can't find any turkey!) and the temperatures have gone down below freezing at nighttime.
Sometimes, an expat just needs a good ol' 'Merican burger.
I'm in LA until Thursday, which is great, because I'm at my parents' house til then, but is tough, because I have meetings all over the city til then.
This isn't part of any plan I've ever had in terms of my career. To be honest, it's not something that I ever saw myself doing. Maybe I like it and maybe I don't, but this whole marketing thing is making me reevaluate my reasons for being in Korea. It's been a year and a half now. I just got a call that my lease is up. I feel pulls from people in LA.
Making a big decision is never easy, but particularly unwise after a long business trip during which I was constantly with the CEO and one of the senior supervisors. Being with those guys for a solid nine days wasn't good for the decision-making portion of my brain.
Over the weekend (happy Veteran's Day!), I'm going to do a minimum of work and try to rest up. Ah, 11 hour plane rides ... Into the wintry wonderland that is Korea .... brrrr.
I'm at AFM (American Film Market) and it's a combination of mind-numbing boredom and breath-stealing chaos.
Check out Google today, the little animations are adorable.
Wow, long time, no post.
I'm in Bangkok again, nearing the completion (please, please, please) of this film.
My sister's birthday is the 23rd, meaning that the birthdays of all my nuclear family members? September.
It makes September an extra-hard month to be away from LA, be away from the people whose birthdays I would like to celebrate with a hug and cake and gifts and more cake.
The world has gotten much smaller, of course. My mother sends text messages and knows how to FaceTime. Sending and receiving photos over Apple's Messages almost gives me the feeling that I'm right there. FaceTime gives me even more of that feeling.
My sister and I, being of the younger generation and all, use KakaoTalk, which means texting, sending photos and videos, and sharing wackadoodle things is even faster for us. Instant, even, the only barrier being the time difference between LA and Korea (it's a big time difference).
For instance, I texted my sister via KakaoTalk that I went on a bicycle ride for the first time in fifteen years or so. Even back then, I wasn't a good bicyclist- we never owned a bicycle in our youth, so we just randomly biked when friends came over and such.
Lake Park, right next to my work and home in Korea, has a very well-planned bike route that's just about five kilometers. After a very shaky first loop during which I was scared to fall more than enjoying the ride, I've come to appreciate bikes and Lake Park.
So ... that was a long detour, but anyway, my point was that when I texted with my sister about bicycling, we agreed that when she came to visit me in Korea, we would go on a bike ride.
Sister, here's a panorama that I took at Lake Park, the lake that you will see when you come to visit:
My father's birthday is September 18. My mother, sweet lady that she is, bought him a new grill (!) for his birthday gift. The weather in L.A. has been, apparently, hot enough to still be called summery, so the parents have been grilling like mad.
엄마를 위해서. ㅎㅎ 엄마가 전어를 좋아하지?? 아닌가... 에니웨이, 나 전어 먹었어. 아빠, 엄마가먹고싶으면 잘 하는 전어집 찾았어. 난 앞에서 곱창 먹을께. ㅋㅋ
Dude. Gizzard shad is the most unappetizing name! I had started this post and realized that I didn't know the English name of the fish that I had consumed. (In Korean, his name is jeon-uh, 전어). So I hit up Google translate and when "gizzard shad" popped up, I giggled. Can't be right.
Google, you are so smart. Gizzard shad, it is! Wikipedia tells me so- American gizzard shad, anyone? Though I'm pretty sure I didn't eat the American variety here in Korea. Perhaps an Asian gizzard shad.
Anyways. Sorry, tangent.
As I've mentioned several times before, I don't eat raw fish. No offense, fish, but I'm just not a fan of that gelatinous-y mushy squishy texture, and I honestly don't feel like raw fish tastes like anything but the sauce in which it was dipped.
One day last week, I worked late while some other friends met up ahead of time for dinner. I had already agreed to meet up with them once I was done with work, and those sneaky little fiends went for raw fish. Of course.
To the credit of this particular raw fish, it's not as bad as "normal" raw fish. First of all, it's a small fish served skinned but with all its bones. The fish is so small and the bones are so delicate that you just crunch the bones.
It's September 11 here in Korea.
This day will always be in my mind, in my heart.
Coincidentally, I was on Facebook for the first time in weeks today (during a boring meeting) and ran across something that one of my friends liked.
Since it's about a New York cab driver and a New York resident, I felt it was fitting for me to have seen it on September 11. Here it is.
A sweet lesson on patience.
A NYC Taxi driver wrote:
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboardbox filled with photos and glassware.
'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'
'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drivethrough downtown?'
'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..
'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'.We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.
'Nothing,' I said
'You have to make a living,' she answered.
'There are other passengers,' I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.
'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
In the U.S., it is my mother's birthday today (September 5).
She likes to say that she is 60, but she's not. She's been saying she's 60 for years and years, and she's still not 60!
Because I'm so far away, I can't give my mommy a hug. But I can send her flowers, which I did. She sent me photos of them today, one of which is this one:
You are not my father.
You are not my husband.
You are not my boyfriend.
You are not my friend.
You are my co-worker.
You may think that because you are my senior, at this company and by age, I should kowtow to you. You would be wrong.
You do not have the right to nag me about anything unrelated to how we work together.
You do not have the right to make my life difficult because you are not paying attention or because you want to throw a hissy fit.
You definitely do not have the right to tell me how to live my life.
You seem to assume that I will do what you want me to do. I won't.
You can go straight to hell if you think I'm going to do anything in your best interest rather than my own.
I am completely and utterly sick of Korean men (not all of them, but a very large proportion of the ones in my life) trying to manipulate me. You are MEN. Stop gossiping and telling people things about me behind my back. It all comes out in the end and it just makes for messy and dramatic episodes that I neither want nor need in my life.
MAN UP ALREADY.
I'm sick of your drama. I'm sick of your rumor-mongering. I'm sick of your double entendres. I'm sick of you as a whole, Korean men.
Just got back from a four-day trip to Bangkok for work.
Hot and humid but an interesting place.
More soon!
Sorry about the silence on the blog, it's been a difficult couple of weeks.
This past weekend, though, a few of us managed to escape for a couple days of fun.
The preparation for said fun was not without its trials- people that were supposed to come along pulled out at the last moment, we had a little scuffle about where to stay, and we had a little worry about the weather (rain when going to the beach is not a good thing).
In the end, seven of us took one big car (a Kia Carnival), a large whale-shaped floaty, several types of kimchi, an underwater camera kit, a whole bunch of shouty Korean songs, and trekked off to Sokcho, on the east coast of Korea.
A more detailed post will follow (hopefully), but here's the floaty and a shot from the underwater cam:
Demitasse
Janghang-Dong Ilsan-Dong Gu Goyang-Si Gyeonggi-Do 867
Western Dom 2nd Floor
Telephone: 031.931.5733
데미타 스
경기도 고양시 일산동구 장항동 867 웨스턴돔 2 층
In keeping with yesterday's post about patbingsu, here's another version of it. If yesterday's was the simple version, today's is the complex version, bedecked with all manners of decoration and difficult to spoon up without spilling all over the place.
It's disgustingly humid here in Korea lately. As a Californian who has never known anything other than hot, dry summers that are blessedly cool in the shade, this humidity thing still throws me for a big loop. Stepping into the shade makes no difference? What's that about?
One of the very few redeeming things during this wretched weather is patbingsu (팥빙수), which is shaved iced that traditionally has red beans (pat, really pronounced 'paht,' (팥) means 'red bean' in Korean). It's now served with all kinds of nonsense on top, including but not limited to ice cream, fruit, candy, cereal, sweetened condensed milk, fruit, chocolate, and on and on.
Despite things I've read about Skype, CineSync, GChat, and so on and so forth, I find that FaceTime is the most reliable form of video communication between foreign countries. In my experience, anyway.
Today, I miss home. For the last few (rough) days, I've been thinking about and missing my old life, my original life.
Variation on a theme. Whereas I posted before about having intestines and then having fried chicken, last night, we opted to start with intestines (hey, don't fix it if it ain't broke!) and then going to an izakaya. As mentioned before, Koreans always need to eat when they drink. There are bars here that are like American bars, with bartenders and barstools and such, but there's not many. Koreans don't mingle with strangers, after all- they prefer sitting at a table with the people they know, drinking and eating the night away.
I'm having a torrid love affair.
I need a fix at least once a day.
It's ... not hot ... actually, it's cold. Because my love affair is with iced coffee.
It's been a tough couple of weeks.
I'm homesick for my family and friends, and I've been having moments of feeling very out of place and awkward here. I don't know why-- is it Korea? Is it work? Is it me?-- but the random pauses of loneliness are surprising and not at all welcome.
Then-- BOOM! Things are as they should be. I am my normal smiley, happy self again.
Is this what senility feels like??
Anyways. Onward with my food posts!
