Korean Snack Fix

Skatewing is 홍어, better known as "fish fermented in its own pee." They also have radish kimchi, which I really like! All of these side dishes are in a huge bar in the Han Kook Supermarket, but no tasting, please!

Welcome to the Bay Area, where those who are nostalgic about the great food they had in Asia never have to travel far to find it again. I helped my brother and sister-in-law move into their new place in the South Bay. Luckily for them, not ten minutes away there are a huge number of Asian markets and restaurants, including the enormous Han Kook Supermarket (한국슈퍼마켓) in Sunnyvale. I went to check it out with my aunt and uncle, who told me they like to get Korean side dishes (반찬) there.

The place is like a miniature E-Mart. Most of it is groceries with goods imported from Korea, Japan, and possibly Taiwan, but there are also small sections for accessories, beauty products, and electronics, just like in a typical department store. I amused myself by reading the English translations of snacks and foods that I'd learned only in Korean.

Everyone knows Choco Pie, right? It doesn't need an explanation in Korea. But in America, they have to make sure you know that the stuff in the middle is marshmallow filling, and also that "IT'S FLUFFY." 

My absolute favorite milk shake in a bag, 설레임, has been translated as "snow ice." Well, 설 does mean "snow," but I never really understood what "레임" meant. It certainly doesn't mean "ice," since that would be the more recognizable (and more delicious) 설빙 (Sulbing)! Anyway, I succeeded in getting my family hooked on 설레임.

My family also went to a Korean barbecue place for dinner last night, and it made me more than a bit nostalgic. I got to practice a bit of Korean with the waitstaff and explained what I knew about the different foods we ordered. I'm certainly going to look for my local Korean markets and restaurants in Berkeley; I'm very lucky indeed that I get to spend the next five years in Northern California.

On a related note, I thought this was really cute:

Teaching Politics

I made a mistake today. Well, the mistake was yesterday, actually. Yesterday, I assumed that I would have enough time in the morning -- because I normally have no classes on Mondays before lunch -- to cobble together a quick lesson on American politics and the upcoming election for my first-years.

In Korea, never assume.

As soon as first period had started, one of my co-teachers came by my office and told me that the schedule for the second-years' college prep English conversation course had been finalized. Oh, yes, I forgot: November has been ushered in with a complete reshuffling of my second-year classes. Now, I had known this, but I forgot how soon the change would occur. To my dismay, the new schedule had bumped one of my first-year classes up to Mondays. Mondays at third period, to be exact. Which would begin in less than two hours.

I definitely had to scramble to get the lesson done, and it wasn't great. I essentially talked at my students for half an hour and then had them watch a snippet of Obama's acceptance speech at this year's Democratic National Convention. It was boring, some of them fell asleep, and the fault is entirely mine.

My co-teacher, always supportive, told me she thought it was a great lesson and that my timing was perfect. I thanked her for the compliment, but I completely disagree; it was a crappy lesson, and I should have begun planning it last week. I sat right back down at my desk after third period, and worked on it during fourth, fifth, and sixth, as well, to fix it for the next class. I did some quick research. I made a ballot box out of an empty box of chocopie (always useful; I'd like more). And I went to seventh period armed and ready!

My MacGyvered ballot box, made from an empty chocopie box, plus ballots.

Fortunately, version 2.0 of the Election Day lesson went wonderfully. I began the class with hangman, which, I have discovered this late in the game, all of my students love unconditionally. "Exercise your right to vote!" And then I had them brainstorm types of government. This was hilarious, as I got some of the usual, "democracy", "kingdom", "socialism"... and then some more creative answers: "non-government" (anarchy), "priest-government" (theocracy), and "dictation" (dictatorship). And then a poor student tried to say "vassalage", and I have no idea where he learned that word -- even I couldn't decipher what he was trying to say (or spell; he tried V-A-S-S-L-L-G-E) for several minutes. So, yes, today I went on a tangent and told my students about feudalism.

After introducing the current candidates for tomorrow's election, with some awesome coincidental mnemonics (Democrat, Donkey, Obama, Biden, Blue, Left-wing vs. Republican, Elephant, Romney, Ryan, Red, Right-wing), I actually had my students vote! I presented Obama's and Romney's stances -- extremely simplified, and non-partisan -- on education, the environment, the economy, healthcare, and same-sex marriage (information grabbed hastily and gratefully from aljazeera), and then passed out mock ballots for the "state" of Changwon Science High School. Our constituents were voting on President and also the passage of a certain Proposition 31, which would continue funding for English classes at our school even though "we suddenly have no more money".

I am happy to report that in Class 1-3, Obama won and Proposition 31 was passed, both by a landslide. Here's hoping for the best come November 6th! (My absentee ballot still hasn't been received by Delaware County...)

Look, this voter wrote "I like gay~!" Warms my heart, especially since the average Korean high school classroom is fairly homophobic. When I introduced Obama's and Romney's stances on same-sex marriage -- actually, as soon as I said "same-sex marriage", the whole class went, "Ooooohhhhhhh!!!!1!!1!11" as if I had said a dirty word.

초코파이 - Choco Pie (and 정)

Choco Pie is a Korean chocolate and marshmallow snack cake that is now as ubiquitous as kimchi, since arriving in convenience stories in the mid-1970's. Koreans seem to love it. Almost every Korean-American I know has grown up in love with it (while I don't recall even hearing about it before college...), and to be sure every Korean person in this country knows all about it. Every foreign ESL teacher knows about it, too, because they are cheap ($0.80 for a pack of 6) and we are always tempted to use them as prizes in class, trans fats and high sugar content notwithstanding.

I read briefly that while the original Korean company that made them, Orion, tried to sue another company, Lotte, for using a trademarked name, Lotte argued that by now, Choco Pie has become a common noun. This apparently happened a decade ago, and I guess now I don't need to capitalize the name and can just say that the choco pie craze is still going strong.

At the end of week's Tuesday morning teaching meeting, I brought out boxes of choco pie that I had bought over the weekend and shared them with all of my co-workers, with a smile and a "많이 드세요!". They were pretty stoked, not gonna lie. At first, they wanted to know what the special occasion was. But when it turned out that there was none, all of them had the same reaction: they laughed and cried out, "정!" Aha.

Jeong (情) is a Korean word that loosely translates to "relationship" or "affection". It is a collective emotion felt in a group, and as such has many layers and nuances of meaning that apply to different situations and different people. The Naver Korean dictionary defines it as "느끼어 일어나는 마음" (a feeling arising in the mind?) or "사랑이나 친근감을 느끼는 마음" (a feeling of love or intimacy), which are frankly just as cryptic as the translation attempt.

But as far as we've been educated at Fulbright (during all of those long cultural workshops), jeong is like the combination of a genuine personal and a crucial professional relationship. The emphasis time and again has been on being good cultural ambassadors, proper representatives of the United States. This means: build good relationships with Koreans (all of them). Build good jeong. Be as like-minded as you can. Give small, thoughtful gifts regularly. (In America, we perform random acts of kindness. In Korea, perform random acts of jeong.) Be helpful and enthusiastic and try new things, like karaoke or live octopus with sesame oil. Smile! Make an effort to connect socially, linguistically, and emotionally.

And buy choco pie for all of your co-workers. They'll get it.

P.S. Here is an interesting article on jeong and its relationships to psychotherapy that was one of the first Google hits. It was informative, but I think that for myself, simply being in Korea is a better way to learn. Living, learning, and teaching while immersed in Korean culture and society will teach me more fully what jeong really means.