Korean Vice I: Alcohol

In this city there are about as many bars as there convenience stores (for a measurement of convenience store frequency, see my previous blog post on the subject). A lot of the bars’ entrances have a structure that sticks out of the ground, and a stairway just inside the door that descends below. It really gives it the “underground” feel.

In most cultures, the weekend bears the highest concentration of people drinking to the point of intoxication. While this is also true in Korea, the weekdays put up a stiff competition. Let’s say you are walking around Seoul’s streets on- a Tuesday, for example. You are likely to encounter a group or lone person stumbling along the sidewalk, having to pause every few steps to regain their balance. The first night I was here I was outside my building and a man was walking by, alone, on the sidewalk. He was very excited about something, and was pumping his fist in the air periodically, speaking as if he were part of a revolution with rebels all around him. Except, he was alone. He was drunk, and was slurring his words. Even though I don’t know the Korean language, I know enough to know that slurring is slurring. He then walked up to a nearby flagpole and with force, punched it once, as one would a punching bag. I could not help but smile in reminiscence of cronies like Mike Andrews.

Another time I was outside the building, reading on these various stone-wall/bench things. Several benches down from me was a guy eating something he had purchased at the convenience store. He vomited on the ground, then collected himself. He got up and walked to the next bench over, to sit down there, perhaps to disassociate himself from his regurgitated filth which still remained by the adjacent bench, I suppose. Not long after, he vomited again, and then proceeded to migrate to the next bench. He did this a total of four times- it was quite hysterical- each time moving a bench closer to the one I sat on. My business carried me elsewhere before I could have found myself a bench-mate.

One time we were waiting for one of our cronies while they were in the convenience store. Across the street was one of those underground bars. A guy came out and walked up the street and past us. He was walking slowly and unsteadily. With every third or fourth step he let out some vomit, yet he not once broke his slow-and-steady pace. He left a trail behind him with splats here, blots there. The bouncers outside the club called it to the attention of a cleaning crew who happened to be sitting on the wall on our side of the street and they were quickly dousing each offended area with kitty litter or disinfectant, I forget. Then I think they followed him into an alley to deal with them.

As I mentioned, binge drinking on weeknights is not uncommon. Sometimes we’ll go eat after work and there’s plenty of outdoor tables with hoards of businessmen, each with a tall beer or two. And though this next fact is a bit peripheral to this post’s topic, its curiousness begs my digression: we once reached a stretch of a few minutes in which the tables and their occupants on the block had reached a generally quiet span of time. Suddenly, and without warning, the table next to us, consisting of about ten businessmen, broke out into a chorus of applause, unaccompanied by any verbal remark. It lasted about three seconds before ending as abruptly as it began, at which the table’s occupants gathered their things to leave.

It is normal, on a weeknight, for many a businessmen to drink enough to the point where their friends have to carry them home- then go to work early the next morning as if it didn’t happen. Also, from time to time I will see that kind of drunk peeing in a sewer grate over here, pissing in an alley over there. It’s funny because at times your path gives you not option other than walking into his vicinity during the act, so you just give him the benefit of the doubt and pretend it’s not happening.

Alcohol laws are a bit more relaxed than they are in many U.S. states, by which I mean that there is no law requiring separate “liquor stores.” Right now if I wanted to I could ride the elevator down to the convenience store in my building and buy some beer or wine. I know that’s not a new concept for many of you but I, being a crony who spent most of his living time in Massachusetts and Rhode Island, find it a bit of a foreign concept. Korean Alcohol laws are more relaxed in other subtle ways, too. And for every Janus there is an equal and opposite Janus. While the U.S. has places like CVS or Walgreens with built-in pharmacies, Korean law requires prescription drug pharmacy stores to stand on their own.

Due in the future: “Korean Vice II”

Omija!: If You’re Divisible By Eleven, You’re O.K. By Me

At midnight, which is in a few short hours, my 22nd birthday arrives. If you want to get technical, since I am in Korea and 13 hours ahead, it will be at my Korean Time 1:00 PM when the day arrives on the East Coast of America, where I was born and raised, etc. However, I think one should consider a real birthday the one that arrives where you ARE at that point in time- where you exist. Should people in Dartmouth or Providence wait until THEIR midnight, thirteen hours after mine, to celebrate in the streets, so be it. But as far as I’m concerned, I have four hours left in my twenty-first year. Which brings me to an important point- If anyone out there is considering any kind of job in an Asian country…ponder this: Your birthday would arrive sooner than it will back home, as mine is about to. Once again, I have nailed a loophole to beat the system.

Of the five international teachers at our school, three of us have birthdays in October. In order to celebrate this tri-umph-arate, the crew ventured this weekend in style to a restaurant on the Intercontinental Hotel’s top floor. It is connected to the COEX Mall, Convention and Exhibition Center. Just look at the view from our private room, and by all means please feel free to be jealous.

Now I am not someone who needs exquisite food to be happy. Nor do I find that watching the Food Network for more than 5 seconds is ever worthwhile. But sometimes it’s okay to live it up. Allow me to now present the photo-worthy courses in that night’s divine meal.

<- Here is the Salmon. Divine. Perfectly Moist. Showered in Lemon. Accompanied by a streak of red pepper paste.

<- On the left side of the plate you see a long strip of ribs. On the right, steak. In the middle, veggie-things.

Now I must explain what Omija is. It’s a non-alcoholic punch-like drink that I have encountered a few times in my Korean restaurant explorations of the upscale kind. It seems to be something out of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory because the idea is that it stimulates all five taste buds simultaneously. It is made from some kind of berry. I’d say the dominating flavors are sweet and tart and YET it is somehow to a degree good for you. I told the staff at work how much I loved it, so they gave me directions to a place I may be able to buy some from (it’s not something you can buy in a supermarket or convenience store). Below, you see an Omija-flavored sorbet dessert thing. It was so theatrical because it was brought out in this bowl inside a bowl, the outer parameter surrounded by bubbling and rising smoke/steam: a chemical reaction made possible by dry ice and water. I thought it was wonderful for both eye and mouth.

THEN. I thought my Omija endeavors were done for the night, but the staff surprised me with a present- a bottle of Omija extract! It was made by one of the staff members, who bought the berries and crushed them down into the extract, which you mix at a ten-to-one ratio with water to create a full glass of the punch. I’ve already had a few glasses of it this weekend and I consider it one of the most thoughtful gifts of all time. It even said on the label, in Korean, “Alex Donnelly Teacher Enjoy Omija!” or something along those lines.

Then out came the cake and holy Toledo. Biggest, tastiest cake I’ve ever seen/had, complete with authentic pineapple and kiwi on the top layer. And you have to love the two message panels, written with dark chocolate on white chocolate, which bear nothing but truth. I also graciously received a new scarf which I have been wearing ever since. I currently sport it in my new Skype picture.

In 1998 I was excited to turn 11 years old because it was divisible by 11 and was the same number (one) twice. When I turned 12 I was disappointed to put that phase in the past, but looked forward with eagerness towards the next time it would happen. As Bukowski said, “And here it is.”To those who have made this birthday celebration wonderful I am greatly indebted to your kindness. You have collectively made up one reason on a list of hundreds why this is one of the best and happiest times of my life!



Long days and pleasant nights!

On Korean Thanksgiving

This past Saturday was the holiday that is the Korean equivalent of what we know in the U.S. as Thanksgiving. It is called, pronounced in English phonetics, Chew-Sawn. For one it meant that I had a long weekend, for which I give many thanks. From what I understand, Chew-Sawn is a more public-gathering celebration, though that does not exclude families enjoying traditional Chew-Sawn dishes at home, in thanksgiving-paralleled abundance. On this day I went to a big festival thing at “The Village,” which is open most of the year but has featured on this day more music, activities and food.

A big part of the whole ordeal is tradition, and I love that about it.

One element is playing traditional Korean games. Here you see a game that is similar to ring toss, only you try to throw those long darts into the holes on that structure for points. And don’t step over the line, of course! You can see that boy faithfully adhering to that rule.

Here you see a couple of mechanisms that add up to a game in which you use that stick and move with it to keep the metal mini-hula-hoop thing rolling. I’m not sure if there’s a game you can play with it, or stunts to be performed, but there were a lot of areas in which the clanging of those things was rampant. I love the idea that this man is passing on the game to another young generation.

Here you see a giant swing that you stood on in order to swing! There was a gigantic line of kids eager to take their turn on the swing. It was funny, because this boy riding it here, while not making any audible sounds to indicate so, was visibly scared, but I’m sure deep down he knew it was completely worth the wait.

Another tradition. Throughout everywhere we went on this day, many children (mostly about age ten and under) were wearing traditional Korean garb. You can see that in a few of these pictures. I only saw a few adults wearing this kind of thing. One of the people I was with told me that the kids LOVE wearing that kind of outfit…it’s the ultimate game of dress-up, but it of course goes deeper than that- perhaps in a way these children do not fully comprehend, yet.

I was jealous of these kids and, when it presented itself, seized the opportunity to join in on the fun. For what is about 80 cents in the U.S., I got to try on this traditional Korean outfit and had some pictures taken. I felt like a king. I could wear clothes like that more often. Ladies, don’t you want to be my Queen? Yesnoyesno? Yes.

Rice and Rice-cake related treats are a big part of Korean cuisine, especially concerning dessert. Here, kids and adults alike were welcome to take a few swinging bashes at that mass of soon-to-be rice cake, as was the traditional pre-machines way of preparing it. I could not resist putting here two pictures of the kids I witnessed; the second girl was so cute in that she could barely lift the hammer.

What you see prepared here is a very specifically arranged feast which is created in honor of someone when they pass away. The foods selected and even the order and manner in which they are arranged on the table corresponds to a very specific tradition. Certain foods pointing to the north and south poles, etc.

Finally, what you see here is a Time Capsule. It was created, stored and sealed in 1994, which was the sixth-hundredth anniversary year of Seoul’s being named the capital city of Korea. The capsule contains 300 objects representative of life in Korea, new and old, up to that point in history. The Time Capsule will be opened in the year 2394, four hundred years after it was initially sealed, which will then be the 1,000th anniversary of Seoul’s being the capital. Such a sight isn’t much to see at surface value. But the idea that specifically selected items and artifacts (the specifics of which are kept secret) meant to represent Korean life are locked in there, and will be for a few hundred years, creates a huge presence of mystery and curiosity to anyone who walks up to it. I testify to that. Engraved around the top surface around the edjes [sic] are words of well wishes from Mayors that were of other capital cities in 1994- France, India, China, etc. This undertaking was championed by Seoul’s 1994 mayor, and I think that in many ways it is a truly selfless endeavor, to create something that in most ways will only have its true payoff long after its creators have passed away. But let’s not kid ourselves- that mayor’s name is on a huge preface inscription at the display’s entrance, and his legeacy is tied to it- he is obviously going down in history.