While my other pages will enable me to share stories, anecdotes, customs, and of course random photos of Baldy, this page will show you the backbone of my Korean sojourn. I'll show you where I live, where I work, and my regular haunts.
I will add to this page in due time. But for now, let's show you where I live, shall I? Welcome to apartment No. 201 in Su Jong Bill, Suseong-gu, Daegu City, South Korea:
Despite the rather thorough tour -- I mean, who didn't want to see my clothes on the laundry room floor? -- I'm sure you have some other questions about the apartment. That's where the magic of the Internet comes in. Email me here and I'll answer any questions you may have, particularly if you send me a $50 check as well.
I live in what everyone calls The Foreigner Ghetto. Seeking guidance for this blog, because I’m nothing if I don’t care for all three of my readers, I had the following conversation with Derek Johnstone, who lived in The Ghetto for a year and has since departed for Vietnam via Japan, Malaysia and God Knows Where Else:
Me: When were you told our neighborhood was called The Ghetto?
Derek (very confident voice): When I arrived.
Me: Why is it called The Ghetto?
Derek (very confident voice): I have no idea.
Indeed, it’s been called The Ghetto for years, and as three-year Siji veteran Catherine Andrewes points out, the foreigners who live here pass the name on to all the newbies. So the name is bound to stick for years. Rather than fight it, I figured I’d give you the appropriate mood music as you scroll down the page and learn more about my neighborhood.
Your tour begins just outside of my apartment building, looking down the hill:
This place actually has a cult following, because Mexican food is rather hard to find in South Korea. Quick story: Teachers from Daegu traveled out of town to watch bullfighting in late March. The bus stopped off in Siji so those teachers could walk home. But some teachers who did not live in Siji exited the bus and promptly asked one of my co-workers for the way to Siji Taco.
If I don't have time to walk for 12 minutes to E-Mart, I head to Kosa Mart for fruit, bread, condiments, cookies, ice cream, noodles and vegetables.
My most-visited haunt, At Home. My standard order is a cafe mocha and a cream cheese bagel for 5,000 won (4,700 for take-out because I'm a regular). The owner, a young woman with an amazingly adorable daughter (who loves Dora), never fails to offer me a free cup of coffee if I'm staying to write, learn Hangul or just enjoy some down time.
The blackboard boasts some Western CDs jackets from Dishwalla, Hootie and the Blowfish, Sugar Ray and others.
Of course Baldy is welcome At Home.
Beyond the street with Siji Taco, Kosa Mart et. al. is a park where Baldy walks twice a day. Now, with a park, you're automatically thinking, "green space." In Korea's case this is not correct, unless the green space you're thinking of the leaves on the trees. This park is really a brick walkway with two playgrounds. It's located between two rows of apartment complexes that, from afar, look like rows of white, 20-story dominoes. This park serves about six such apartment buildings. (South Korea's population density is sixth among all countries with at least one million people.)
When I say Baldy goes for a "walk," what I really mean is, "Baldy searches for food, even if it wasn't good enough for other people to eat."
I love this: Kids playing baseball for the sake of playing. This just doesn't happen in the U.S. anymore -- children need to be in an organized league and the parents must fork out thousands of dollars a year for hotel fees, tournament fees, etc. Same for soccer. Just play, dammit!
The neighborhood also has several convenience stores, a gym, several Italian restaurants, a soccer store (with nothing in my size), two hair salons, a butcher shop and a handful of coffee places.
