Return to Changwon

Last weekend, I returned to the city that I called home for two years, Changwon. Because I only had a few days to visit, I wanted to meet with as many people as possible, including my host family, friends from church, friends from language class, former colleagues, and even a former student. These were all people who changed my life in some way or another during my time in Korea, so I was very happy to meet them again. Happy is actually an understatement: from the moment I stepped off the train and saw my city with my own eyes once more, I felt a deep contentment and familiarity that must have come from a different level than the one that produces such fleeting emotions as happiness.

The familiarity was a curious feeling, too. From things as simple as getting on one of the city's insane buses again and remembering my old route home, to moments of reconnection like catching up on my host brother's now-terrifyingly enormous insect collection, to joyous reunions with old friends that included meeting new ones, every moment was tied to something or someone I'd known well all of eleven months ago. As quite a few people remarked, it was as if I'd only left yesterday. I think one year is not really that long a period of time, and most people did not visibly change (with the exception of my taekgyeon master's son, who is now in his terrible twos!). So it was indeed easy to kind of fall back into the swing of things. Except that never in my two years in Changwon did I have such a whirlwind of a weekend, consisting of reunions with dozens of different people.

Selfies galore, with: Eunjin, the CSHS English department, a former student, my taekgyeon masters, and a Fulbright buddy!

So here's what happened in detail. I took the KTX high-speed rail down to Changwon on Friday after class, and arrived in the evening in time to get dinner with Victoria, a fellow volunteer for Changwonderful, at TGI Friday's (how appropriate). Later that evening, I reunited with my taekgyeon 관장님 (gwanjangnim) and 사범님 (sabeomnim), the director and master/trainer at my old martial arts gym, and did the whole Korean drink-and-eat-and-drink-some-more thing. I had a wonderful time with them, and also discovered the greatness of flavored soju! I really cherished the opportunity to catch up with 관장님 and 사범님, because aside from people at school and my host family, I spent more time with them than anyone else in Korea. (관장님 even let me crash at his house over the weekend, and I spent a lot of time playing with his young son. 관장님 is like a big brother to me; I love his family and owe them so much.)

But even better, through my broken Korean, I was able to relate to the both of them some of my concerns about graduate school or about life in general, and they gave me some much-needed advice. You see, I often have doubts about my decision to continue in academia, partly because it's so hard and partly because I wonder if I'm actually doing anything meaningful with my life. I'm quick to point out that even though I am grateful to be back in California, I was actually happier on a day-to-day basis when I lived and worked in Korea. But 관장님 said something that reminded me of what many of my friends advised back when I was initially deciding on grad school: that I had to leave Korea to move on with my life.

I guess I don't like to be so blunt about it, but either way, since I've turned the page on that chapter, it's no use trying to go back to it as if I haven't already started the next one. I was also touched when 사범님 told me, or perhaps admitted to me, that in his many years of training in taekgyeon, he never worked so hard or enjoyed it so much as when I attended the gym. Heh, that definitely could have been the 순하리 talking, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

On Saturday, I joined 관장님 for his Saturday youth sports classes, including soccer, jump rope, and dodgeball. I met up with my old language partner Eunjin for lunch in the Garosu-gil area, and we had a great time catching up and discussing everything from our past baking adventures to movies staring 빵형 (aka Brad Pitt... brownie points if you get the joke!). I am so grateful that even though Eunjin's English is better than my Korean, she is always patient with me and will let me struggle through an explanation of how the book and movie versions of World War Z are completely different but good in their own ways without embarrassing me at all. And in the evening, I had dinner with my host family (I lived with them for my first year of Fulbright) and caught up on old times. Their dogs are still super cute and super annoying.

On Sunday, I met up with one of my former students, JW, who is now in his second year of university! He contacted me on Facebook and said that he was going home to Changwon, so he wanted to meet up. I was thrilled, because I don't have many opportunities to meet former students, especially those who don't currently live in Seoul. JW really wanted to practice his English, and I felt just like I was back in school doing lunchtime conversation club again. Except this time JW was really eager to talk about university life, and he asked for American TV show recommendations.

I also got lunch with Courtney, who is the Fulbright teacher who has taught at CSHS for the past year, and we discussed life in Korea and the ways she's grown and learned this past year. We also talked about religion and sexuality. I am so impressed with the way Courtney's mind works. It's wide open and ready to listen to anything and everything, as if everyone she encounters is a vendor giving out samples of food she's never seen or tasted before, and it is all delicious. She has embraced the differences of others, as well as the discomfort and the weirdness of living in a foreign country, far from home for a year, with as much energy as a kid at an amusement park who might not be tall enough to get on all of the rides but doesn't care a bit.

In the afternoon, I went back to Redeemer Changwon, a small church that meets at a cafe in the downtown area. I began going to the church a year ago when it was just a handful of friends wanting a fresh, community-based church experience. I was happy and encouraged to see how it's grown since then. And my old friend Traylor gave the sermon, too! Good on him. He preached from 1 John, which, curiously, is a book that I've heard quite a few sermons on in the past few months. It can't be pure coincidence... It was great to catch up with the church folks again, and meet some new friends. We all went to dinner together afterward at El Loco, an excellent Mexican restaurant with prices much more reasonable compared to here in Seoul.

Monday was the long-awaited day in which I went to visit the school where I taught for two years. As soon as I walked on campus, I felt really... in place. As if it were just any other school day and that I should probably get to my classroom or office in a minute. It was exciting to bump into old teachers and students and see them do a double-take. Many of them stopped to greet me and chat in Korean, and they kept saying, "어떻게 왔어요?" Those two words literally mean how and came, so I interpreted it as, "How did you come here?" So I told them that I took a train. To my embarrassment, it's actually, "How come you came here?" So I modified my answers: "I'm here to visit." And to reconnect. And to relive some amazing memories.

Courtney was gracious enough to let me visit her classes that day, including her two classes with the third-year students, who were my second-years last year. I was excited to see them, and they were excited to see me, and they kept commenting about my hair, so I told them about topknots and 상투 and they vacillated between thinking it was cool and thinking it was horrible. Yet for all the thrill of the reunion, let's be honest: it was still English class, and they were still pretty loathe to speak English! Not that much has changed, I suppose! It was actually a bit sad to see how these third-years seemed so tired after so much time stuck in the grueling high school routine. I am looking forward on their behalf to four or five months from now, when they will have finally finished. I also got to meet and play a game with a class of first-years, i.e. students who had no idea who I was. That was a riot, too! They are just the same as my old classes of energetic, not-yet-jaded first-years. They associate California with beaches and CalTech, wail when I tell them that I don't have a girlfriend (and don't want one), and think that my being able to write a few words in hangul on the board is worthy of infinite admiration.

Besides visiting students, I also got lunch with Courtney and the other English teachers, Saerona, JJ, and a new teacher I hadn't met before. It was so sweet of them to be so welcoming and hospitable. Saerona also made me a small gift. (I'd brought some chocolate from the US, but I wish I'd brought the San Francisco coffee again, as I did once, because the teachers in the main office still remembered how good it was... haha.)

And then, too soon, the day was over, and I got on a bus to go back to Seoul. After seventy-two hours, my heart was full.

- - -

I really want to go back to Changwon again, but I don't really know how feasible that will be, as my schedule gets busier and busier, and the time I have left in Korea is already winding down. I wanted to write more about this fantastic, nostalgic, much-needed weekend. Every meal and every conversation deserves its own post, actually. But most of it wouldn't be of very much interest to anyone but myself. I've just spewed out a lot of words on the Internet about something that is very inconsequential to the world at large... what's the point. Well, if there's anything you take from the post, I hope it's this: there was nothing that I loved in Korea more than the people that I met here and formed positive relationships with, and they are the only thing that will keep me coming back.

Parents in Pusan!

Or, in Korean, 우리 부모님들께서 부산에 오셨다! In either language you get some neat alliteration; my first-year students will appreciate that since I've been teaching them poetry.

Anyway, my parents came to visit Korea! They're in Busan for the weekend. We visited Haeundae, Haedong Yongkung Temple, Centum City, Jagalchi Fish Market, and Busan Tower. Later today we'll go to Changwon, where my Korean homestay parents will meet my actual parents. It will be joyous and very awkward!

Here are some photos from my phone: my parents and Gwangan Bridge at night (Busan's 야경 is beautiful), a selfie at the temple by the sea (this photo has 135 likes on FB and counting... 헐), and my dad flipping through the physical photo album I got him for his sixtieth birthday. (Happy birthday, Dad! )

Back in the Family

규, their cat! Bigger and cuter than ever.

Tonight, I had a very pleasant evening with my homestay family from last year. I was beginning to worry that they had either forgotten about me or didn't care to keep in touch, since I hadn't seen them since Chuseok, around September. After Christmas and the New Year passed without comment, I decided to simply invite myself over to their house, a sort of last-ditch effort before I gave up altogether.

As it turns out, they assumed that I had gone home for Christmas, and then they went on their own family vacation in the first few days of January. So it wasn't until this morning that host mom responded to my text and called me from the airport in Seoul, announcing that they had just returned from Cambodia and asking if I'd to join them for dinner tonight.

So, this evening, I baked cranberry-pecan scones and whipped up some cinnamon cream to go with it, then jogged over to their apartment. Not much had changed! The dogs still peed on the floor, their cat had punctured holes in everything during the family's four-day absence, and host bro was still taking care of his menagerie of a hedgehog, several spiders, and a bucket of mealworms. He had also acquired a giant centipede, although his scorpion had gone missing. "Where did it go?" I asked. "I don't know," he said, quite unconcerned. Host bro himself has gotten noticeably taller, but his personality is the same as ever.

As usual, host dad was craving 회, or Korean sushi. We had Korean sushi almost once a week last year. He really loves it; I really do not. But I was happy just to be spending time with them. They regaled me with stories, photos, and videos from their tour of Cambodia: Angkor Wat, floating villages, and eating snakes and tarantulas.

Apparently, K-pop and K-dramas have been a hit in the country, so children selling trinkets on the street had picked up enough Korean -- more than just "Gangnam style!", surprisingly -- to bargain with my family in a language they knew. "One, one dollar!" was the universal way to begin a bargain war for bracelets or toy flutes. But the next kid would offer three for one dollar. My host mother bought three bracelets for one dollar, only to learn that her daughter had bought five for one dollar from another kid. "필요없어요!" ("I don't need it!") she said to the next tiny salesman offering eight for one dollar. To her surprise, he responded, "필요있어요!" ("You do need it!") Taken aback, she just repeated, "필요없어요!" And the mischievous kid cried, "거짓말!" ("Lies!")

Host sister had similar drama (pun intended) with a tiny flute saleswoman who tried to charm her with, "언니 예뻐!" ("Sister, you're so pretty!") We all had a really good laugh at these stories. I was surprised when host mom first insisted that Cambodians were really good at speaking Korean, but I suppose it makes sense!

I thoroughly enjoyed the time we had to catch up. They invited me over for tea after dinner, and we munched on the scones I had brought. (It was my first time making scones, and as far as I'm concerned, they were a success!) We continued chatting as the cat crawled over the kitchen table and tried to get at the cinnamon cream. I found out that host dad has picked up the saxophone, host bro is ranked ninth in his middle school, and that host sister is going to Ewha Womans University! (Her parents aren't happy about the sticker price, but it's an elite school.) I left with more gifts than I had brought, as well as an offer from host dad to drop by whenever I wanted. I'm really glad we got to reconnect, and I hope that they'll remain my family, in a sense, as long as I'm in Korea.

Cranberry-pecan scones -- my first batch ever! I loosely followed this recipe, substituting cinnamon for nutmeg and heavy whipping cream for the buttermilk. They were fluffy and delicious.

LGBTQ Zine by Miyuki Baker

Miyuki Baker, my artist and globe-trotter friend, just finished the latest issue of her international LGBTQ art/activism zine. This issue is about her travels and experiences in Korea! I really enjoyed spending time with Miyuki while she was here, and getting to chat with her about the successes and drawbacks with working with the LGBTQ community(ies) in Korea was quite interesting. Seeing now how her work has come to fruition with this zine is just fabulous! To read it, visit Miyuki's blog.

In other news, I'm now facing the final week of my first grant year in South Korea. Tonight, I gave some going-away gifts to my homestay family, and I also wrote them a letter. My homestay mother said that I wrote better than a Korean! Major props to lang-8 for that one -- I ran the letter by the community there before putting pen to paper. Anyway, I will fly out of Seoul on Saturday for Taiwan, then hop across the Pacific to San Francisco on the 17th. To think that I'll be home in two weeks... 헐.

고양이 두마리 - Two Cats

A beautiful traditional paper fan at the Fan Culture Gallery (부채문화관) in Jeonju's Hanok Village. There is a tiger (호랑이) on the design.

In other news, my homestay family has temporarily adopted a kitten (새끼 고양이) that some students rescued from a gutter. It's so adorable. Tonight, it was play-fighting with the two small dogs who think they own this place, and I was just like, "아 귀여워, 귀여워!" I wish I weren't allergic to cats; then, I'd be able to cuddle with this tiny furball and plot to take it back to the States with me.

In other other news, I'm really happy to hear about DOMA and Prop 8. History has been made in the US, folks! Hooray for equality -- 결혼평등화 만세!

Body Language

Host mother, who is always willing to let me know when I do something wrong, politely informed me this morning why placing one's elbows on the table are a cultural faux-pas in Korea. It's not like this comes as a surprise to me: the same etiquette is supposed to be observed in the U.S. I will freely admit, however, that I don't concern myself with that particular mealtime convention. It was never stressed in my own family, and I don't find it rude in the least -- it's more comfortable, even.

Yet I had been operating under the assumption that elbows should remain off the table when eating with my homestay until I noticed my host father's arms propped up in just that fashion a few times. Does that make it okay? Well, not exactly. As it turns out, host mother explained, eating with one's elbows on the table -- especially when at a restaurant -- signals to the cook that you're less than satisfied with the quality of the food. It's a bit of body language as clear as grimacing when you take a bite.

(It may also indicate that you are very tired, which, as of late, I indeed have been. I blame the doubling of my workload at school due to end-of-semester speaking tests.)

Obviously, I didn't mean to convey that particular sentiment. In fact, this morning's chicken porridge was delicious. But I have to be more careful. Learning body language the hard way is never fun, but it's still useful. As much as I despise being corrected for something I did not know was wrong, this is all part of my cultural education. Besides, I'm only going to stay with my host family for about three more weeks before summer vacation and moving out. Here's to making the most of it while I still can!

P.S. Here's a cute and informative video from Seoulistic on some differences between American and Korean gestures. I ought to turn this into a lesson for my students next semester.

Ox Bone Soup

설렁탕, or Seolleongtang, is ox bone noodle soup.
곰국, or Gomguk, is ox bone soup (also 곰탕).

I had it for breakfast, I didn't like it. It was bland and there were bits of collagen and chewy not-meat floating around. I stuck to my rice and kimchi jjigae and hoped my host mother wouldn't notice. But she did, of course, and I had to tell her it was "별로...". I immediately felt like a jerk, because the first thing she said was that gomguk is expensive. My first thought was, "Great, guilt trip. I'm a bad cultural ambassador." But then I thought, "Well, I'm not obligated to enjoy everything, am I?"

Ox bone soup also exists in Chinese and Taiwanese cuisine, so I've had it before, and I daresay I've never liked it much. But it is indeed expensive and requires lots of work to make. The bones must be simmered or slow-cooked for several hours, sometimes an entire day. In fact, I remember getting a whiff of the smell from the kitchen the night before (and no, it was not exactly the most savory aroma).

My co-teachers tell me that gomguk is a good dish for "weak" people in order to make them strong like a bear (gom), particularly because it's a good source of calcium. I decided that I could give it another try.

So a few days later, I had 곰국 again, and you know what? It wasn't as bad this time around. Still not my favorite Korean dish. (In fact, I'm slowly growing tired of Korean cuisine... Hate to admit it, but all I want these days is a good salad...) But it goes to show that first impressions don't always have to dictate the final verdict.

보성녹차축제 - Boseong Green Tea Festival

Last Saturday was 518 (오일팔/oh-il-pal), the anniversary of the Gwangju Democratization Movement that occurred on May 18th, 1980. I thought it would be interesting to see what was going on in the liberal and historically anti-American city of Gwangju on that day, but I didn't get a chance to visit the memorial or see any exhibits or events. Instead, I hopped on a bus headed south to Boseong (보성) for the penultimate day of the famous Green Tea Festival -- another spontaneous decision. It took me away from the big city, deep into the rural landscape that dominates most of Southern Jeolla Province. Way out there, I highly doubted anyone regularly crossed paths with foreigners, let alone harbored xenophobic attitudes toward them. In fact, Boseong is a tiny town that apparently heavily relies on tourism and graciously welcomes everyone to see its famous green tea fields.

보성녹차축제. The Boseong Green Tea Festival, nestled in the hills in rural South Jeolla Province.

Although I had been planning to meet up with fellow Fulbrighters at the festival, my phone ran out of batteries (one downside to spontaneous overnight trips: you never think about the small things, like charging electronics or bringing a toothbrush), so we hadn't communicated a time or place to meet. When I hopped off the bus at the festival grounds, I realized that I would just have to keep my eyes peeled for a group of foreign women. As I blend into a Korean crowd quite easily, I knew they'd have trouble if they were the ones looking for me.

Still, I took the time to take in the sights, and there was lots to see. The main attraction was a hillside covered in green tea shrubs and dotted with people stooping over to pick the leaves. The plants looked a bit worse for wear, since the festival had been going on for some time and tens of thousands of visitors must have trodden the hillside already. But it was still something I'd never seen before. I myself took a short walk along the hill and snapped some photos, but I didn't pick any leaves -- I was still trying to spot my friends.

Festival participants prepare tea leaves for brewing.

Other attractions included long rows of stalls selling all sorts of green tea (녹차/nokcha) products, which are, unsurprisingly, not limited to tea. There was green tea candy, green tea lotions, green tea ice cream, special ceramic and wooden teapots and teacups, and the plants themselves. In addition to this, there was the usual festival fare of food, cultural knickknacks, and anything hawkable, really.

After a bit of time wandering around alone, I made my way up a different hill to the performance area of the festival, where a large stage had been set up and many people were watching a troupe of 아줌마 dance. Here, I discovered more food stalls, some green energy and environmentalism exhibitions, and a large pavilion where people who had picked their own tea leaves could help cook, roll, and dry them to prepare them for actual brewing. And it was near this area where I finally found my Fulbright friends!

Together, we visited the tea museum, shopped for gifts, and just chatted and caught up. It was quite pleasant, overall, and I was indeed much happier to be experiencing the festival with friends instead of alone. After I'd been at the festival for about three hours, we took the bus back to Boseong, and then to Suncheon, where we ate a light dinner, and then I bused back to Masan, and then I bused back to Changwon. I was dead tired after all that travel, and I may or may not be absolutely sick of buses after this weekend! Okay, that's enough griping. Here are more photos!

An adorable diorama in the tea museum depicting tea taste testers at work.

Another exhibit in the tea museum. ₩1,000 entry for a relaxing visual walk through the history of tea in Korea, with limited English.

Alanna tries a sample of green tea. I ended up buying a small package of 세작 tea, which is made with relatively young leaves, for my homestay family. As it turns out, host mother prefers the variety that I bought! Score!

Hilary, Alanna, Amy, Payal, and me in front of the green tea fields (녹차밭).

P.S. Gwangju to Boseong is 1h30m (₩8,400); Boseong to the famous green tea fields is 20 minutes (₩1,100); then the return trip; Boseong to Suncheon is 1 hour (₩5,800); Suncheon to Masan is 1h40m (₩9,000); Masan to Changwon is 30 minutes (₩1,100). That's a lot of freakin' buses.

For any readers who need information about bus timetables and ticket prices, because that information is often hard to find on Korean websites, here's Suncheon Intercity Bus Terminal, Masan Intercity Bus Terminal, and Gwangju Combined Bus Terminal. Even Koreans take photos of timetables and ticket prices at the terminals themselves because the websites are so utterly impossible to navigate.

Parents' Day

Here is a corny Konglish joke I just made up: What would a particularly excitable mother or father say on May 8th of every year?

Answer: "어버이!" (Oh boy!)

Hee. Okay, so today is 어버이날 (eo-beo-i nal), or Parents' Day, in South Korea. Originally transplanted from the US as Mothers' Day, fathers were allowed in on the celebrations starting from about forty years ago, and the tradition has stuck since then. Children give their parents gifts, the most common being a red carnation (빨간 카네이션) as a brooch, basket, or bouquet. But like many other holidays in Korea, this one has also been mega-commercialized.

My own host family has been particularly low-key on the celebrations lately. May 5th, just a few days ago, was Children's Day (어린이날), when families go out on picnics (소풍) and other nice excursions, but my host siblings stayed at home and studied. They said they were too old (middle- and high school-aged) for Children's Day. And today, well, not much of interest occurred. My host sister found me at school during passing period and asked me to deliver a card she had made to her parents. I did, and in addition, got a small, pretty carnation plant and a basket of kiwifruit to go along with it. In the words of my host brother (who says this every day when I ask him how his day went), "Nothing special." But I know my host parents appreciated the sentiment.

몇일 전 5월5일에 어린이날였어요. 대부분 사람이 가족 함께 소풍 하는데, 우리 홈스테이 동생들이 집에 머물고 공부했어요. 이제 어린이 아니기때문에 어린이날 못 축하한다고 말했어요. 그리고 오늘 5월8일 어버이날 인데, 보통날였어요. 홈스테이 여동생은 학교에서 저를 만났고 저에게 손으로 만든 카드를 부모님께 드린다고 부탁을 했어요. 했고 이 뿐 만 아니라 작은 예쁜 빨간 카네이션과 키위를 홈스테이 부모님께 드렸어요. 대체로, 그냥 하루였지만 홈스테이 부모님 고마워할것 같아요.

P.S. In class today, I was working on acrostic poems with my first-years. One of them happened to recall a cute acrostic she'd heard before:

Father
And
Mother
I
Love
You

That said, time to call my actual 부모님, if they're awake, and wish them a happy Parents' Day!

다녀왔습니다!

저는 매일 학교에 돌아올때 홈스테이가족한테 인사로 그걸 말해요. 그다음에 어머님은 "앤드류 잘 다녀왔어요?" 라고 말해요.

I say that every day when I come home from work as a greeting to my host family. Then, my host mother says, "En-de-ryu, jal danyeo-wasseoyo?" which roughly means, "Welcome home."

지난 주말에 제주도에서 풀브라이트 회의 다녀려고 아주 좋은 시간이 있었어요. 해가 났고 바람이 불었고 경치가 아름다웠고 너무 재미있었네요! 다른 풀브라이트 원어민 선생님들을 만났던 시간이 저에게 축복이예요. 그러니까 저는 진짜 고마워요.

I had a fantastic time last weekend on Jeju Island (제주도/Jejudo) for the Fulbright Spring Conference. It was sunny, windy, beautiful, and so much fun! The time I get to spend with other Fulbrighters is a real blessing for me. I cherish it a lot.

그런데, 저는 천국에서 돌아오자마자 직접 교직과 한국어 수업 듣는것과 택견 배우는것을 계속했어요. 피곤하네요! 그래서 이 블로그에서 제주에 대한 기사 말고 저는 지난 주말에 제일 좋아하는 사진중에 하나를 나눌까요.

That said, I returned from the island paradise to hit the ground running in terms of teaching, attending Korean class, and resuming taekgyeon training. I'm pretty pooped. So, I'll leave the recollection posts about Jeju for the next few days, and instead just post one of my favorite photos from the weekend:

My friend Katelyn and me at the Cheonjiyeon Waterfall (천지연폭포). Look at how blue the water is! (photo taken by Kathy Hill)

P.S. Native Korean speakers, please feel free to correct my Korean!

What is taekgyeon, exactly?

Taekgyeon Day 1: Drills, drills, and more drills. I have no idea what I'm doing at all. I leave impressed.

Taekgyeon Day 2: Weight training and stretching. My muscles feel like they are going to fall off, and I regret being a twig with toothpicks for arms. On the plus side, when we do jumping drills, I manage to impress everyone else in the dojang. I tell them I used to play volleyball. I leave tired.

Taekgyeon Day 3: A crash course in traditional wrestling and more general confusion. This time, plus lots of sweat. I leave sore.

Taekgyeon Day 4: Indoor soccer with some of the thirteen-year-old boys who are in the class before mine but stayed behind just to chill. And play soccer. I leave a bit confused.

Taekgyeon Day 5: Kick practice, plus archery. I leave really confused.

So, uh... what is taekgyeon, exactly? By the end of my first week, I think I could've been forgiven for not having the slightest idea as to what kind of martial art I was learning. It seemed like a random amalgamation of sports, like I was starting a new class every day. Archery? Wrestling? Soccer? What next, gymnastics?

Well, as it turns out, taekgyeon is comprised of at least nine different disciplines, and I've been learning bits and pieces of each every day on a steady rotation. So on Day 6 (this past Monday), I went back to wrestling, and on Day 7 (yesterday) reviewed basic footwork and kicks.

Today would have been a weight training day, but two members of the dojang received their black belts today, and we went out to celebrate with drinks instead. I enjoy the company of the dojang director and master, since they're much more cheerful and amicable than they seemed at first. The humorless sixth-degree black belt is, as it turns out, a new dad who likes to show off photos of his son and is also really into Enneagrams. I'd never have guessed. Anyway, I enjoyed this evening of 정-building, even though I could understand less than 50% of what everyone was saying. I caught bits and pieces of conversation about Hangul, the history of taekgyeon, the dangers of traveling alone in rural India (?), and foreign languages.

Another surprise for this class came in the form of the teenagers who sometimes stick around after their class to drill with us adults. The first one I met calls himself Sam. He's short and round, on the chubby side. He doesn't speak much English, but what he knows he uses loudly and enthusiastically. I had to wrestle him on the first day I learned how to wrestle, and he was sweating profusely; it was difficult to get a hold on him, let alone trip him in any way. He seemed not to mind getting tossed into the ground again and again, as long as he could do the same to me. The dojang director told us both to take off our glasses to protect them. So Sam took his glasses off, then walked right up to my face, peered into it, and declared, "Handsome." Hee.

Two of the other two kids who sit in on the class sometimes, with whom I played soccer last week, turned out to be friends of my host brother. Apparently, they told him at school that a foreigner had begun attending their taekgyeon class, and when my host brother asked them for that foreigner's name... haha, well, he got a kick out of that.

Three Conversations with My Host Brother (HB)

HB: Do you know... hetch tock?

Me: What?

HB: Uh... hetch tock?

Me: Who's that?

HB: It has a needle on the back.

Me: Is this a person???

HB: No, an animal.

Me: Hetch tock... hetch tock... Oh! Hedgehog!

HB: Hedgehog? H-O-G?

Me: Yeah, hedgehog.

HB: I think it was D-O-G.

Me: Hedgedog? Haha, no, hedgehog. They're cute. Why?

HB: I want to breed a hedgehog.

HB: I was young...

Me: When I was young.

HB: When I was young, I walked this road.

Me: Every day?

HB: Every day. Go home... academy.

Me: Mhm.

HB: It was difficult... so I think, "Accio Firebolt."

Me: If I said, "I will give you one ice cream now, or I will give you two ice creams in thirty minutes," which would you choose? One ice cream now, or two ice creams later?

HB: Marshmallow.*

Me: What?

HB: Um... Two ice creams.

Me: Why?

HB: ... Of course.

*He was actually alluding to the Stanford marshmallow experiment, and successfully described it to me later. Smart kid.

Also, the aforementioned smart kid is currently reading the Harry Potter series in Korean, and I have found a new game. I pick up one of the books, flip to a random page, and begin reading. The goal is to see how quickly I can figure out where in the story I am. It usually takes three or four pages, given that I can only understand about half of the dialogue and almost none of the expository bits.

The Princess and the Fool

I like to watch TV with my host family because it exposes me to Korean culture and language while giving me an easy way to hang out with them. My host brother is very into Running Man, Rule of the Jungle, and Gag Concert, so those are the three that I watch the most often.

Running Man is a really entertaining program. I don't watch a lot of TV so I don't know what kind of American game show or variety show I could compare it to. The gist is that a core group of contestants -- various actors, singers, and entertainers -- along with a few celebrity guest contests compete each week to complete a series of themed missions that move them through interesting landmarks in different locations. For example, I've seen episodes taking place in traditional villages, empty shopping malls, the entire city of Cheongju, and last week they were in Vietnam for some reason. It's part scavenger hunt, part relay race, and part silly game show; I guess it's kind of like The Amazing Race, but definitely a carefree iteration, nowhere near as high-stakes or dramatic.

General Ondal and Princess Pyeonggang (from Wikipedia)

Anyway, tonight's theme was a parody of an old Korean folktale about Princess Pyeonggang and the fool Ondal (평강공주와 바보온달). I was heartily confused at the costumes and the storyline bits of the show, but my host brother managed to explain what was going on.

Princess Pyeonggang used to cry all the time when she was little (either all the time or continuously on one New Year's Day), so her father the King threatened that if she continued to cry, he would make her marry the village idiot (바보/pabo), who was a commoner named Ondal.

When the princess grew up, she refused to marry the man her father arranged for her to marry, citing her father's threat-slash-promise of marrying Ondal. The King tried to explain to his daughter that his threat was just a joke, but when Princess Pyeonggang continued to resist her father's wishes, he grew angry and banished her from the kingdom. Princess Pyeonggang ran away and found Ondal living in the mountains. She then spent many years educating and training the fool in archery and horsemanship, and he ended up "like Napoleon", according to my host brother: in other words, he became a general. They went back to the palace after many years, impressed the King, and lived happily ever after (until Ondal was killed in battle against the Silla).

It's a cool story. I like how the princess stands up to her father's patriarchal expectations of her and does her own thing, also managing to help another outcast and marginalized person overcome the barriers that prevent him from living successfully and with respect. I wish this were the kind of story I saw played out again and again in Korean dramas today.

As it were, the story of Princess Pyeonggang and Pabo Ondal was introduced to me via parody on Running Man, where three female contestants played the role of the princess and had to find their respective Ondals, "educate" them (in a hilarious trivia game where every wrong answer resulted in a huge spray of water to the face of contestants balanced precariously on a small platform in a swimming pool), and eventually win the favor of the king.

Running Man looks like tons of fun. I don't think I'll ever be on a reality TV show or game show of any kind, but if I could just play silly games and light-heartedly mock American culture for months, be filmed, and be paid for it, I think I totally would.

Vocab!

Parody: 패러디 (Konglish)

King: 왕/wang

Princess: 공주/gongju

Fool, or stupid person: 바보/pabo (Incidentally, this was one of the first Korean words I ever learned, from a youth game where screwing up resulted in everyone calling you "pabo". It can refer to a low-class, mentally-challenged person, but today it's used more as a light insult, much like the English "idiot".)

General: 장군/janggun

Patriarchy: 가부장제/kabujangje

Outcast: 왕따/wangdda (Refers mostly to social pariahs in an institution such as a school, and comes up often in references to bullying, a growing problem in Korea. There are many other words for outcasts, including 낙오자 "loser", 이단자 "heretic/excommunicate", and the interesting 꾸어다 놓은 보릿자루 "borrowed barley bag", which is an idiom for feeling like a fish out of water. Full example: 그녀는 꾸어다 놓은 보릿자루처럼 앉아 있었다. "She was sitting like an outcast." My co-teacher explained the story behind this idiom to me: a person once mistook a random bag of barley sitting in a corner for an actual person and suspected it of being a spy keeping quiet. Awkward!)

How was your day?

Today, my host mother told me that Koreans don't really ever say "오늘 어땠어요?" to ask the English equivalent, "How was your day?" While it's not grammatically incorrect, she said, it's just not normal.

I thought, "Oh dang, really? I've been saying that to you almost every day for the past six months!"

Instead of voicing that, though, I asked, "Well, then what do Koreans say instead? What question should I ask?"

As it turns out... there's no question. Just a cheerful "잘 다녀오셨습니까! (Welcome home!)" will do.

P.S. Pronunciation guide: 오늘 어땠어요 = oneul eot-daesseoyo; 잘 다녀오셨어요 = chal danyeo-oshyeosseoyo, where "eo" is /ʌ/ in IPA: kind of halfway between the English "uh" and "aw".

Life of Pisces

From tomorrow, I won't see my host family for about a month, so we had a nice dinner out tonight: Korean barbecue! During the meal, we talked a lot about movies (영화/younghwa). I found out that my host parents don't care for musicals but that the family enjoyed Life of Pi. (I did, too!) Then, in an effort to engage my host bro in conversation and take his attention away from his smartphone games, I asked my host brother more about the movie. "Do you think you could live in a boat with a tiger (호랑이/holangi) for two hundred days?" I asked. "If you were Pi, what would you do?"

He replied that it would be very fun. "Fun?!" I exclaimed. "How would it be fun?"

"Fishing," he said.

(By the way, my host brother loves fishing. And sushi.)

Foreground: 육회 (yukhwe), Korean-style raw beef. This was a first. Background: delicious seasoned beef on a charcoal bbq! And also a nub of the 육회 that host bro threw on the grill to try to cook it.

P.S. Another episode of Koreal life today: I had to go to the bank to reset my mobile banking password. I was lucky the clerk who assisted me was patient and very nice. After some time, I realized that she didn't know what I was asking for. I mean, I mumbled my initial request and signed some random forms, and then she instructed me to enter my password. "... But... I've forgotten it. That's why I'm here," I thought, confused. It all got solved in the end, though. Also, she back-handedly complimented my Korean. "Really good for someone who's not taking classes." I WILL TAKE CLASSES. JUST YOU WAIT, KIND, HELPFUL BANK LADY.

New Normal

Normal things: Sitting on the couch in the living room with my host brother, watching beautiful people crack stupid jokes on Gag Concert and smiling even though I understand less than 5% of what they're saying. Listening to my host father lament about how he hasn't been able to eat anything all day besides medicine because he has to prepare for a colonoscopy tomorrow and smiling because I understand much more than 5% of what he's saying, but don't know how else to react. Stumbling through an explanation of what these nicely-wrapped boxes are that I brought back from the U.S. and then just letting the host parents figure out that they're gifts from my real parents... realizing that my Korean is in poor shape after two weeks at home. Tip-toeing around the apartment because it has thin floors. Turning on my electric blanket. Absent-mindedly petting Roomy and Tory as they sniff my pants.

These are the "new normal". This Sunday evening is just like any other Sunday evening, and it is strange to me how comfortably I've settled back in.

I was hanging out with Jake and other Fulbrighters this afternoon. Aside from geeking out about Pokémon and berating me for not making the most of my two weeks in California by eating a burrito, Jake also mentioned that Fulbrighters who visit home during winter break often suffer withdrawal symptoms upon their return to Korea. Yes, it's cold here, and yes, I didn't get a chance to see everyone that I wanted to see at home in that short time span, but otherwise, I am totally fine. I'm ready to be in Korea for the next five months. I'm even looking forward to it, and I think that strolling back into my homestay life as if I'd never gone anywhere does reflect that, in a way.

Thanks, Sara. Thara!

On a related note, I had a nice surprise waiting for me on my desk when I arrived at home. Sara sent me a gift all the way from Virginia! How thoughtful. Now I can think about Scrabble while I drink tea at school. As I like to say, there is never too much Scrabble (or Bananagrams, or Contact).

Okay, now it's time to sleep and to find out when jetlag (시차, or time difference) will decide to wake me. This morning, it was 6:00am, long before the sun had risen. Tomorrow, it may be noon, or even later. We shall see!

Park Geun-hye to Win South Korean Election

And it looks like Park Geun-hye will win this election! With over 75% of votes in, the Saenuri Party candidate has a strong lead (51.8% to the Democratic Party's 48.1%), according to KBS News. In fact, they called a winner as early as 9:30pm, over an hour before the results were to be finalized. South Korea is going to have its first female President!

Host parents at the polling place.
I saw some of my students volunteering!

I was watching news coverage of the election with my host brother. The news was interesting for two reasons: 1) adorable animated representations of the two main candidates in the early segments and 2) the vote tallies broken down by city and province.

My province, Gyeongnam, gave Park a strong lead, and in cities such as Daegu and Busan, the conservative party won without a doubt. On the other hand, on the western Jeolla Provinces, Moon Jae-in completely swept the polls, in particular winning over 90% of votes in Gwangju. Moon also won a majority in Seoul, although Park took the surrounding Gyeonggi Province.

All of this notwithstanding, since Korea's election runs on a popular vote only, the provincial statistics don't actually count for anything. It's just interesting to see how the country divides along party lines.

Oh, and another thing: I was watching the news coverage with my host brother, because my host mother went to bed early, 아파서, and my host father is commiserating at a friend's house. He told me today that most of Korea would be drinking tonight: 52%, as it stands, in celebration, and 48% in sorrow.

P.S. In other news, I watched The Hobbit today, in English with Korean subtitles. It was nowhere near the marvel that is The Fellowship of the Ring, but it does fit in almost seamlessly with the fantastic, adventurous tone of the series as a whole.

I watched the movie with Tyler and some other friends. This is Tyler, campaigning on behalf of Moon Jae-in. These campaign trucks have been everywhere for the past month, blaring music and showing pro-whoever videos in every corner of town.

P.P.S. Speaking of adorable (or WTH-worthy) election coverage on the news, here's one example:

Much more interesting than flatscreens with maps of states that change colors.

Let's Talk About Issues

Tonight was the final community center Korean class of the year, and there were much fewer students and teachers than usual. I suppose most people were busy with travel or end-of-the-year preparations, or maybe they were partying it up since, hey, no work tomorrow! Most of the country will have the day off on the 19th because it's election day. (What a great way to encourage people to vote! Why can't we do that in the U.S.?)

In class, I decided to chat with my conversation partner about the election. It seems to be either illegal or very frowned upon to share who you've decided to vote for in a public forum, so I didn't press the question. I did, however, pick up tons of election-related vocabulary. Here we go:

선거 (seongeo) is election, and 대선거 (daeseongeo) refers to the Presidential election. The two main 후보 (hubo), or candidates, are Park Geun-hye (박근혜) and Moon Jae-in (문재인). There was a somewhat substantial third-party candidate, Lee Chung-hee (이충희), but she declared right from the beginning of her campaign that she was only running in order to get a national platform upon which to attack Park as much as possible, then proceeded to do so, and finally withdrew from the election yesterday. Sneaky woman. But that's a pretty baller way to use politics (정치/jeongchi). Anyway, now Park and Moon are 서로 경쟁하고 있다: competing with each other, and the polls right now show a 박빙, or a very close race.

Park Geun-hye of the Saenuri Party and Moon Jae-in of the Democratic Party. Courtesy Yonhap News.

Park's party is called the 새누리당 (Saenuri Dang), which means the "New World Party". They are politically conservative (보수적), wary of North Korea, and well supported by the older generations and the nation's elite (including chaebols, or business conglomerates like Samsung and Hyundai). They are the party of Korea's troubled string of dictators, who controversially led the country to miraculous economic prosperity despite horrific human rights abuses, as well as the current President Lee Myoung-bak (이명박). Park herself is the daughter of Park Chung-hee, an important figure in modern Korean history. She has been involved in politics essentially as long as her father has, which means she already has strong ties to the government (정부) over which she is trying to gain control.

Moon's party is the 민주당 (Minju Dang), which simply means the Democratic Party. More progressive (진보적), more tolerant, and younger: altogether unsurprising. Moon himself is a lawyer 변호사/pyeonhosa) with less political experience, but he did serve as chief of staff for Roh Moo-hyun, the President of Korea prior to Lee.

I am admittedly not too well informed of the candidates' actual 정치철학 (jeongchicheolhak/political philosophies), knowing little more than what I hear from my Korean friends and read on Koreabang, but since I personally lean somewhat left of center, I think it would be good if the more liberal candidate become President (대통령/daetongryeong). My host family asked me not to write on this blog who they would voting for, despite their having already told me, perhaps due to the public nature of this blog and the aforementioned "keep your vote secret" thing. I can't vote, so my opinion doesn't matter much... but on the plus side, my host parents have promised to take me with them to the polling place tomorrow morning so that I can watch and take photos! This event only takes place once every five years, so I'm excited for the opportunity.

A vigil in NYC for the victims of the Sandy Hook shootings in Newton, Connecticut. Courtesy TIME Newsfeed.

And now for a much sadder 이야기 주제 (topic of conversation)... the Sandy Hook shootings. Like most 소식 (news) from the US, I first grabbed bits and pieces of information from Facebook, and then I went to Buzzfeed and TIME. The story was shocking and awful, but I honestly haven't stopped to mourn or even really think about it. Of course, it was on the news in Korea, but since I'm not surrounded by Americans and because I'm not in America, the issue was never shoved in my face. I actually avoided most of the dozens of articles being written on every corner of the Internet with updates to the story regarding the shooter's background, or more tales of heroism and survival. I just didn't want to confront it.

But tonight at class, and also afterward, I had to confront it. A lull in the conversation with my speaking partner led to the question, "What are your opinions on gun control in the United States?" My Korean tutor was extremely curious. In Korea, personal firearms are illegal, so you can imagine that the number of gun-related deaths in the country is extremely low. Compared to my trigger-happy country, well...

What struck me, however, was that as soon as I thought about the question for a moment, I realized that I actually really did not want to talk about this, least of all in Korean. Not only is gun control a hideously complex issue, it also requires grammar that I don't have yet to explain in a language I still can only barely grasp. But I tried, because that's what this class is for.

이사건에서 문제는 총이 않은데 정신병이었다라고 생각해요. 그 남자 정신병이 앓고 있었어요; 총이없으면 다른 사람을 아직 다치게 할수 있어요. 미국 사회는 총이 너무 좋아하는데 제일 중요한 문제는 정신 건강이예요. 몇 사람의 생각에는 더 많은 총은 더 많은 문제가 있다. 하지만 완전히 금하면 안되요. 이왕 불법총이 이젠껏 많아서 보통 사람들이 총이 받을수없으면 범인은 오직 총을 있을거예요. 그리고 으리 사회 보다 위험해져요. 그런데 이 주제 굉장히 복잡하네요.

Okay, that was probably all over the place in terms of grammar, but here's what I meant to say: "In my opinion, in [the Sandy Hook] incident, the problem was not guns but mental illness. That man was suffering from mental illness; without a gun he still could (have) hurt other people. American society likes guns too much, but the most important problem is mental health. Some people think that more guns means more problems. However, guns should not be completely banned. Up until now, the number of illegal firearms is already so high that if normal citizens are not able to procure guns, then it is only the criminals who will have them. Thus our society will become more dangerous. Anyway, this issue really is extremely complex."

So that is the gist of what I was talking about, reluctantly, with my Korean tutor. I tried to steer the conversation back to the election, but in the end I just announced that I was really sad now and couldn't think of anything else to say.

Late at night, when I returned from Korean class, I chatted with my host parents about the election. But inevitably, just as it had in class, the conversation switched to Sandy Hook and my thoughts on gun control. By this time, I really did not want to talk about it, but I tried my best to rehash the opinions I'd developed earlier. My host parents are fiercely anti-gun, and I could tell that they really didn't understand why "everyone in America has guns". ("Do you have a gun?" my host father asked me. I was too tired to mask my horror at the question.)

I also perceived their utter sorrow at the fact that the shootings took place at a school -- my host parents are both teachers -- and when I mentioned the argument some people have given for equipping teachers with guns, my host mother completed the thought: so that the teachers could have protected the children... There was so much conflict in her eyes. It was really telling.

마창대교 - MaChang Bridge

I spent a very pleasant afternoon with my host parents today. This weekend is the last one I'll be able to spend with them this year, because next weekend I'm heading home! So, I think we all appreciated the time we had together.

First, we drove out to Masan (the ex-city that is now a district of Changwon) to go to a popular 짬뽕 restaurant. 짬뽕 (jjamppong) is often translated into English as champon, which looks French. I suppose it's an awkward loanword? According to Wikipedia -- which I fully trust to answer all my culinary inquiries, naturally -- champon is a Japanese dish based off of a Chinese dish. I mean, whatever; take one look at this and you can tell it's Asian. Order yourself a bowl of 짬뽕 and you get a spicy noodle soup with All Of The Sea Creatures, plus bean sprouts. I couldn't finish, not because it wasn't delicious, but because there was just way too much.

짬뽕/jjamppong. I spy octopus, mussels, and abalone, along with vegetables and spicy soup.

After we finished our meal, we drove out to Masan Bay (마산만), which has been nicknamed the "Dream Bay". Now, Masan has an economy that relies pretty heavily on industry. Like Changwon, there are lots of ports, shipyards, and factories. Many years ago, these took their toll on the environment, and the bay was extremely polluted. However, today you wouldn't even be able to imagine that. Masan Bay is surprisingly beautiful. It was very peaceful (평화러워요) and quiet (조용해요); I would even say serene. Cars rumble overhead on the MaChang Bridge (마창대교), which was completed in 2008 and connects Masan and Changwon (clever, eh?), but the sounds I focused on were the lapping of the water on the rocky, oyster-covered shores and the whizzing of fishermen's lines going out into the bay.

마창대교/MaChang Daegyo. It was cold and partly cloudy, but nonetheless beautiful.

My host father proudly said that MaChang Bridge and the bay were comparable to San Francisco's Golden Gate and its world-famous bridge. Sorry, host father, but I beg to differ (read: So Not True). After walking around and being sufficiently impressed by this feat of architecture, we popped into a cafe called Cordelia. It was almost impossibly cute: your typical Korean iteration of the cafe with plush seats, a hand-written menu, potted plants, random Christmas decorations, and $6 lattes. The wonderful thing about it, though, was that its enormous windows offered a perfect view of the bridge and the sun as it set behind Masan's mountains, bathing the sky in 노을.

MaChang Bridge and the Dream Bay.

As my host parents had their coffee and I sipped my hot chocolate, we chatted about many different things, including how my host mother thinks the bridge is pretty but the fact that it's lit up prettily at night is probably a waste of electricity (전력 낭비). Most importantly, I think there was a solid moment of connection when my host mother asked me what my motivations were for studying hard when I was in high school. (Currently, my host parents are having trouble with my puberty-stricken host brother, who isn't very focused in school.) This led to a relatively long conversation, due mostly to slow, belabored communication.

I told them that I studied hard mostly out of the spirit of competition (경쟁); "I wanna be/The very best," etc. I also wanted to get into a good college, as I set very high standards for myself, and lastly, I wanted to make my parents happy. I left out the part about my parents having pushed me really, really hard to succeed at everything, because I figured my host mother is already doing that with my host brother and doesn't need reinforcement.

I also tried to explain, in my broken Korean, that although I studied really hard, the competition was severe and I was sometimes too competitive to have close friends, or too focused on my studies to have a social life. I said that while competition is important (중요해요) for school, after graduation, it becomes much less so. Now... I have to admit that I don't really know how strictly I believe this. I'm competitive by nature, and I will always be. And in the workplace -- in the Korean workplace, especially -- having a competitive edge on top of intrinsic motivation and a good work ethic are absolutely necessary. But really, I was just trying to explore the possibility that studying hard and getting good grades isn't the Most Important Thing for a teenager. This is because I feel bad for my host brother, who just wants to play Minecraft and watch Running Man and build model airplanes. This isn't likely to get him anywhere in life, but for goodness' sake, he was in elementary school last year! I don't want to see his childhood get sucked into the black hole of hagwons and self-study so soon. Then again, he's not my son, and the burden of raising him in Korea's education-obsessed society isn't mine to bear.

All things considered, I don't think that I could have eloquently articulated my ideas even in English, but nevertheless, I am touched that my host mother even thought to ask me for my opinion. As my host brother navigates the rough waters of adolescence (사춘기), here's to hoping he ends up happy and not as awkward as I am! In the end, I really treasure today's small bit of bonding time. It's a rare occasion for my host parents and me to connect on a level that's anything more than superficial, and today was one of them.

Host parents with me in front of the MaChang Bridge as it begins to light up in the evening. Low-quality photos are the fault of the smartphone camera, but it's better than nothing, as I'm glad I now have something to remember the evening by.

Food Etiquette, revisited

Since my first post on food etiquette in Korea, I've made a couple more mistakes that may be of note... I'm just telling myself that these are useful rules to know and that even if I think they're odd, adhering to them is cultural capital and a win-win for my homestay family and me.

from Wikipedia

1. Don't eat 김 without rice.

김, or kim, is dried seaweed. It's a common side dish in Korea, Japan (nori), and Taiwan (紫菜, although my family calls it nori, too). While some people unfamiliar with the taste may raise their eyebrows at the idea of eating seaweed, I've grown up eating this stuff and, if I'm in the mood, simply eat it like chips.

It was my host mother who first told me, however, that one does not eat kim by itself. You must eat it with rice. ("But it's so good! And white rice is so bland and carby!" I think. Oh well.) Because it's easy enough to greatly reduce the ratio of rice to kim, this isn't really a problem at all.

2. Keep your soup bowl on the right.

Some kind of soup (국/soup, 죽/porridge, 찌개/stew or 탕/also soup) is an essential at every Korean meal. It's not Korean if it doesn't include something delicious (and often spicy) in a bowl. Why keep it on the right? I don't know. 그냥.

3. Don't read at the dining table.

In fact, don't do anything at the table while eating except eat. My own mother used to be particular about this: no phones or electronics allowed at dinner. The same holds true for my host mother, who daily tells my host brother to put away his cell phone and stop playing the new fad game app of the week during meals. But when I was told to put my book (I mean Kindle, but whatever) away, I was actually the only one at the table, eating a late breakfast by myself. That left me kind of awkwardly bored for the remainder of my meal.

The way I make sense of this is by observing how absurdly quickly most Koreans around me tend to eat. Mealtimes can be long because there's a lot of food available (four-course meals are standard at most restaurants I've been to), but the food itself is scarfed down in no time at all. That said, something as time-consuming as reading a book not only leaves food uneaten, it also allows it to grow cold before it is consumed, and if that's not an insult to the person who prepared it for you, then I don't know what is.

(Well, except I do know many things that could be considered worse faux pas at the Korean dining table, only I haven't committed them and do not intend to, ever. If I accidentally make more gaffes, I'll be sure to document them!)

P.S. There's been wintry precipitation all over the peninsula today. As I sat in my office looking at a calm gray sky, I noticed my Fulbright peers' Facebook status updates announcing snow, freezing rain, and even some thunder and lightning. Way down south in Changwon, we only got rain for most of the evening -- and I came home pretty drenched. But my host mother just went outside and announced that it snowed! For all of like five minutes. And it has all melted now. My hopes are that it'll fall and stick at least once before I leave for winter break, but if it doesn't, I'm cool with that, too.