I got paid today -- that's paid, beginning with a "p," you silly romantics -- so I rewarded myself with a dinner at Outback Steakhouse. As I finished, the family of four in the booth ahead of mine celebrated a birthday. I don't know whose it was, because when the servers came over with silly hats, everyone in the family -- mom, dad and the requisite cute son and daughter -- put them on. There was a big-brimmed yellow hat, a orange one that looked like a crab, and other Teletubbies-on-steroids sorts of fashion statements that make me smile and say, "Only in South Korea."
Seconds after the children blew out the candles, a waiter approached me in the booth. As predictable as these questions get, I must admit it never gets old. "Where are you from?" "Are you a teacher?" I like that total strangers want to welcome me here. He has no ulterior motive to butter me up; I have already eaten, and there is no tipping in South Korea. He's just being friendly, making conversation, and putting his best foot forward so I can have a positive experience in South Korea. It's genuine, and the kind of moment that's quite welcome after another meal eaten alone.
The waiter, like the other wait staff, has a name tag over his heart. The blue tag is shaped like a cloud and has big puffy letters, as if he stole it from an elementary school student. Only it's not his real name, because Lord knows that would be boring, so let's just choose an English name. Only it's not an English name. It's Cesc -- and for those of you who don't follow soccer/football, the waited named himself after this man, who plays center mid for Arsenal and the Spanish national team.
I, of course, caught the reference and we begin to chat about soccer. What, you expected a debate about Tim Tebow's Super Bowl ad? After a bit of small talk, Cesc -- real name Cho Min Ho, Yeongnam University student -- told me that he wanted to have his photo taken with me.
That's his writing above the photo. Even this was an adventure. With his first pen, he finished my name but not his. With another pen, he finished "and" but not his name. Finally he grabbed and black marker, wrote his name, then wrote over my "Mark and" so it was all done in black. And this photo will remain as a reminder of the wonderfully random shit that can happen anytime over here.
Questions, comments, demands or suggestions can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
There is a serious crisis here in South Korea, and the country's Ministry of Health isn't going to sit back and let it happen without doing something about it. So today, the government building shut down with plenty of time left in the night for its employees to go home and have sex with their spouses.
South Korea considers its slowing fertility rate a serious crisis. Depending on which rating system you use, South Korea is ranked 192nd out of 195 countries, or 218th out of 223, in children produced per woman in her child-bearing years. Either way, the figure is around 1.20 per woman.
These numbers surprise me, for various reasons. There are 48 million people in a country that's roughly the size of Indiana. Just about every student I ask at the academy has a brother or sister. The divorce rate is low and there is tremendous pressure here for the woman to marry. And finally, why wouldn't you want to have a child here when every single Korean kid is ridiculously adorable?
Putting all of those factors together, I figured that every room in these 15-story white apartment buildings that hover in the city had at least four people in it. Not so. In 2000, according to the CIA total fertility rate figures, the average South Korean woman produced 1.70 children during her child-bearing years. Now that number is careening toward one. I don't know why -- I am not a sociologist -- but I'll speculate that the increased acceptance of women in the workplace plus economical struggles are contributing to the sliding figures. But that's just the amateur opinion of a guy who's lived here about 14 months.
As you can read here, today's move was not South Korea's first attempt at boosting its birth rate. Now, I doubt South Korea would like to emulate, say, Niger, whose women pop out more than seven children in their child-bearing years in a country that, according to the International Monetary Fund, ranks 171st among 180 countries in GDP per capita. But clearly South Korea is concerned that its population is getting older and does not have enough youth in reserve to maintain this country's extraordinary climb into the top 15 economies of the world.
So I will do my small part by offering this mood music free of charge to Korean couples everywhere.
Special thanks to George "Soju" Woods for calling attention to this article via Facebook.
Questions, comments, demands or suggestions for the Ministry of Health can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
In 1910, Japan officially annexed Korea. The Japanese ruled the peninsula for 35 years. They did all they could to erase Korean culture. They stole or swiped important artifacts. They raped Korean women. And when Koreans had the nerve to protest and organize uprisings to, you know, get their country back, the Japanese imprisoned them in Seodaemun Prison, located in Seoul.
Built for 500 people, at some point 40,000 Koreans were imprisoned here. They were tortured, beaten and killed. Some cells had no sunlight, no electricity and no toilet. Bigger cells held eight people who were never allowed to stand and who used a bowl for a toilet. The Japanese tortured the Koreans with the rack, sticks, electricity and sharp objects, and it didn't matter if the prisoners were men or women. They were bloodied, beaten, coerced, punished and treated like farmyard animals. The prisoners' only crime was to stand up for their country that was being taken from them. Most famous of these people was a teenaged girl named Yu Gwan-sun, a high school student who led uprisings and is a Korean version of Joan of Arc. She was killed in the prison at age 18, and her last words, according to legend, are "Japan will fall."
Solitary confinement cell kept away from the sunlight.
The prison is, by any yardstick, the home of an absolutely horrific and painful time for the Koreans -- which is why it was such a shame that my friend and I, who visited the place Saturday, spent a large fraction of the time chuckling and shaking our heads. Among the phrases repeated throughout the hour or so visit: "What happened here?" "This could be so much better" and "Disney World." Here is one re-creation of torture scenes in a cell.
The above photo depicts a typical display in the prison hall -- a well=meaning attempt to create history but so cartoonish it had the wrong effect. In a gallows room, where a Japanese tribunal sent Koreans to death, a loud motor hummed as the executioner gave his instructions. In another room two mannequins sat across from each other to a soundtrack of intimidation and screaming that would make the worst B movie you can think of look like an Oscar-nominated classic by comparison. My friend, former Colorado Springs Gazette co-worker Chris Walsh, and I continuously shook our heads, chuckled, apologized for chuckling, moved on, and repeated the process. (Nor did it help that two middle-school girls near us screamed in fear at everything -- mannequins, voices, and Chris coming out of one of the cells -- and then giggled after every incident as if they were embarrassed to be frightened.)
Just to make sure I was not an insensitive jerk, I relayed this story to two Korean friends last night, and they agreed. The displays are crap and the museum, while incredibly well-intentioned, could do more to bring shivers down our spine. I hope they make the effort, because it is a worthy museum that should be more sobering than it is. We understood just how powerful Koreans feel about this when we spoke to an English-speaking employee as we were leaving. She talked about how Japan wanted to use Korea as their base for taking over Asia, and her voice rose with every indignity she relayed. It hit us hard, albeit an hour or so too late.
A torture device. A Korean would sit in the box, which would then be shaken by a Japanese guard. Note the sharp points on the side.
Korean crime report: Chris had quite the emotional ride last weekend. Early Saturday morning someone walked out of a club with his jacket, which happened to have his wallet in it. Sunday afternoon, Chris learned the wallet had been placed in the street, with the cash gone but the credit cards, bank card and alien card intact. Chris did not have his home address in his wallet, but he did have his work card (he is an editor at the JoongAng Daily).
According to Chris, a Korean man found the wallet elsewhere in the city and called the paper. Says Chris in an email: "Luckily he speaks a little bit of English. He said he found it on the sidewalk. Gangnam is a good 30 minutes from here. ... I had heard that Koreans will even mail your wallet back to you after they've taken the cash. This was probably the next best thing. Ditching it on the sidewalk is just as good as turning it in to lost and found, because the Koreans will return it. Crazy."
Questions, comments, demands or suggestions can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
Cleaning out the notebook and scouring the Web to bring you the latest news (or what qualifies) from South Korea:
This was the scene in Daegu at around 1 p.m. Monday. It snowed during the morning and afternoon, and unlike most snowfalls in this city, the white stuff decided to stick around for more than three hours, giving Baldy not one but two (and possibly more) romps in the snow.
Meanwhile, to the north, Seoul suffered its largest snowfall since Korea began meteorological surveys in 1937 -- back when there was no North and South ... in fact, back when Japan still occupied the peninsula. According to this Associated Press story, nearly 250 flights from two airports (mostly from smaller Gimpo) were canceled and a cabinet meeting was postponed. The accumulation: 10 inches, or half of what hit the Washington, D.C. area in a storm last month. But all things such as this are relative, and for Seoul, this was a dumping of historic proportions. The city sent 3,600 workers to clean the snow and ice, and Defense Ministry said 5,000 soldiers were dispatched to help. Not to be outdone, Barack Obama sent 350,000 more troops to Afghanistan.
One word conspicuous by its absence is "olleh" -- "Hello" spelled backwards and pronounced like the Spanish "Ole." The word became hugely popular among students thanks to an ad campaign by an Internet company. Like most ad campaigns that drive people nuts, I happened to love it. Here's a collection of the "olleh" ads for your enjoyment/annoyance (regardless of what you think, it's certainly no worse than "Drinkability"):
South Korean pop culture is definitely a follow-the-trend crowd, and by the time these ads hit the airwaves, a teacher couldn't walk into one of our classes without the greeting of "Olleh!" The word is used in celebration more often than it is a greeting. For example:
Me: No homework tonight.
Students:Olleh!
Anyway, Brian's list is worth checking out, as is his blog. Please click to the link when you're finishee here. Or now, for that matter.
** I went skiing at Eden Valley, about two hours from Daegu, the day after Christmas. My fellow New Englanders will scoff at the four slopes of artificial snow, but 67,000 won (about $60 U.S.) got me nine hours, skis, poles, boots and a round-trip bus ticket. Olleh! Two pictures:
A view of the night skiing.
Ice sculpture of Namdaemun, the historic gate in Seoul that is South Korea's No. 1 national treasure. The real gate was burned down by a 69-year-old arsonist who was upset that developers had yet to pay him in full for land he sold. That is according to Wikipedia, which is never wrong.
** More photos from around Daegu:
Real men drive pink cars. (We don't have proof this is a man's car, but our group of teachers concluded it was. Welcome to a blog, where hearsay and assumptions rule.
You just never know when you'll have another opportunity to hug a bottle of whatever it is this bottle is advertising.
** Feedback is encouraged on this blog's Facebook page. The woman responsible for getting me this job, teacher Mandie Marie-Fiske, weighed in on my most recent post in which New Year's Eve patrons at a Daegu bar could be kissed with varying intensity, or not at all, based on the color of their glowing bracelet. "I would have worn one of each, and busted out a different color depending on the suitor -- gotta import that idea to Europe!"
Also, to clarify something I wrote about the lasagna I gorged on during Fitzmas, my sister Beth cooked it. I referred to it as "my mom's lasagna" because it's the recipe we grew up with. But Beth cooked it. Oh, the family squabbles I must moderate ...
Questions, comments, demands or suggestions can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
The minute 2009 became 2010, I turned off the alarm and crawled out of bed.
I should probably adjust that sentence. The minute 2009 became 2010 in the Eastern time zone of the United States, I turned off the alarm and crawled out of bed.
Such is the advantage of living halfway across the world. My new year was before your new year. Neener neener neener. The refreshing thing about the big night in South Korea is that, much like Christmas, it's not overhyped here. From a practical point of view, that means no exorbitant cover charges, which makes it easy to bounce from place to place until you find something you like.
I'll tell you about two places I went, and then provide a couple of links for other celebrations. First, I spent the changing of the calendar in a bar called Urban, which is one of the more popular dance places. I went because it was indoors (it had to be single digits Fahrenheit outside) and had a live band. They also had a rather unique way of celebrating the magic moment:
After the countdown, the lights went out. You could then be kissed based on the bracelet you were wearing. Blue or green meant you were fair game. Orange was the go-ahead for a peck on the cheek. Yellow was for a hug. And red meant no thank you, which begs the reasoning of wearing a red bracelet as opposed to, for example, none. I opted not to wear a bracelet to save the embarrassment of wearing green and not getting kissed because it's just silly. And a quick funny note about the countdown: You could see on the screen behind the live band that the new year had already begun and people in Seoul were celebrating. So everyone just decided not to notice and had a countdown anyway.
Having downed a couple of beers and wished fellow foreign teachers well, I ran into fellow Siji dweller Nikki Haupt, who told me, "We're going to a norae bang." That was all I needed to hear. I know I've talked about these singing rooms before, but I will review and add some detail.
Instead of karaoke, Koreans do norae bang. Bang is Korean for room, and there are lots of rooms: PC rooms, game rooms, DVD rooms, and the like. This is where you can sing with your friends and not worry about getting heckled by strangers.
A typical room has seating against the wall, two mikes, a couple of tambourines, and at least three monitors that show the lyrics. The mike echoes something fierce, so the sound quality is different than a karaoke bar. The lyrics are accompanied by little movies of Korean people singing, dancing, flying around on skateboards, and often times doing this to a tempo that does not match you song you chose. And finally, after each song, the machine gives you a score up to 100, and usually in the 90s. It is often the final stop of a drinking night, so when we arrived around 1 a.m., it was considered, by most foreigner standards, early. I did not take pictures or video, but you can see a typical singing room here.
Without getting into play-by-play, our crowd varied from four to 10 people in there at once. A sampling of the songs: "Under The Sea" from The Little Mermaid, "Delilah" by Tom Jones, three Queen songs, "Fear of the Dark" by Iron Maiden, "Forgot About Dre" (a tricky one, especially for Eminem's parts), "Tubthumping" by Chumbawumba, and, of course, this year's UK No. 1 Christmas single -- uncensored, I might add. (If you're unfamiliar with the latter story, read this link.)
New Year's Eve video: For footage of a New Year's Eve concert and fireworks ceremony held elsewhere in Daegu, click here. The video was shot by Zackary Downey, a third-year English teacher living in Daegu. His blog, called Scroozle's Sanctuary, is here.
Also, a video shot in Seoul two years ago is here. You can hear the Boshingak Bell, which is rung 33 times. I don't know the reasoning behind 33. Probably because of Larry Bird.
Bonus dog photos
This dog on a motorbike is a popular fixture downtown, but it's the first time I've seen her. My first photo was of her and her Korean owner, but he quickly insisted on grabbing my camera and taking a photo of us.
Uncle Dave and aunt Dong Ryun walked Baldy today, and one of them took this photo. But, come on, is any photo of Baldy ever a bad one?
Questions, comments, demands or suggestions can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
