- NOVEMBER 26: The price is right, at least most of the time (and it helps not having to buy gas)
- NOVEMBER 23: The foreigner pass
- NOVEMBER 16: Red lights must mean something different here
- NOVEMBER 16: Service for the sake of service. Who knew?
- NOVEMBER 8: Settling in (but only long enough for me to run home and catch the second half of Chelsea and Blackburn)
- NOVEMBER 2: Time to breathe (but not for long)
NOVEMBER 26: THE PRICE IS RIGHT, AT LEAST MOST OF THE TIME (AND IT HELPS NOT HAVING TO BUY GAS)
This will be a short but sweet (at least for my wallet) post that talks about how much things cost over here. I write this on the heels of a dinner last night that included rice (of course), kimchi (of course, squared), egg souffle, unlimited salad (lettuce and dressing, to tell you the truth), tofu, grilled meat and various dipping sauces and condiments, and soda -- all for seven bucks.
The Korean money system is based on 1,000 won -- so in the perfect world 1,000 KRW will equal 1 USD. For simplicity's sake, I'll list the prices as dollars. Here are some bargains:
Most dinners, 10 to 12 bucks ... Monthly cable bill, 7 bucks (or so I'm told) ... spinach bought at a market, enough to fill about 15 salads, 1 buck ... an hour in an Internet cafe, less than a dollar ... small cafe mocha, 2 bucks ... haircut with shampoo, 7 bucks ... a 15-minute cab ride downtown, 10 bucks or less with no added charge for multiple riders.
Not everything can be had on the cheap. A month at the gym is 65 bucks. A pint of ice cream at a convenience store cost 5 dollars. A pint of Guinness is 9 dollars (however, more than a pint of house beer at WABAR costs 3). Most Western food is expensive; I caved and had dinner at Outback Steakhouse two weeks ago for 28 bucks. Basically, the bargains and ripoffs even out, but only if I crave Western items so much I have to have them. Otherwise, I understand how people save money here.
Back to index
NOVEMBER 23: THE FOREIGNER PASS
The Koreans have been, generally speaking, welcoming to me in my first month. They seem to appreciate foreign citizens provided they at least try to assimilate themselves. This is called "the foreigner pass."
The foreigner pass means the woman behind the counter will kindly make my mocha for take-out, even though I completely missed a clearly-marked window outside the shop marked, "Take-Out Window."
The foreigner pass allows me to walk into a messy office to buy a Daegu FC scarf, again even though there is a window designated for customers and nobody is allowed to enter the office except for employees.
Still, there are times where I just put my faith in the Korean people. I'll buy something, and when I can't understand how much it costs, I just give them a large bill and hope they give me the right change.
The other side of me adjusting to Korea is that some Koreans use me to practice their English. I was reading a book at a cafe one time and this gentleman simply walked up to me and started talking about the election. The entire conversation was in English.
But the most fun I've had allowing a Korean to practice English occurred early Saturday morning at a downtown toast shop. In Korea, toast really means a sandwich with toast -- most often involving eggs and jelly (it's better than you think). There's a fairly popular spot on the main nightlife stretch. Before I entered, a co-worker, Joe from New York, told me:
"Make sure you call the guy a moth--f-----g c--t."
This is the same Joe who told me last week, "The pepper's not that spicy." And then I shoved the whole thing in my mouth. My tongue is fine, thanks to a quick response from the fire department. So you can understand that I had reservations about calling the toast guy a "moth--f-----g c--t."
The guy welcomed me with a smile and offered a free toast. I responded the way you'd expect.
"I was told to call you a moth--f-----g c--t."
To which he nodded, smiled and said, "Oh yeah!"
He proceeded to tell me that he had a body part similar to a baby's arm, and explained in semi-detail what he would do to a woman in bed. He also said, "Obama is my homeboy!" And then he gave me two free toast sandwiches, which provided me with an opportunity I've never had the pleasure of experiencing in the States. With a smile, and a gleam in my eye, I exclaimed, "Thank you, moth--f-----g c--t!"
I love this place.
Back to index
NOVEMBER 16: RED LIGHTS MUST MEAN SOMETHING DIFFERENT HERE
I completed my first true downtown foray last night. I arrived at the English-speaking-friendly Club That shortly after midnight, then visited two other bars and attended a half-hour powwow with a Spanish-speaking outdoor vendor who bought us all beer. I returned home at 5 a.m.
I could have arrived home even later were it not for the splendid work of our cab driver, who found an interesting way to get me and fellow teachers Brendan (North Carolina) and Sinead (Ireland) home in a flash.
He ran nine red lights.
And we weren't even surprised.
Traffic laws seem to be optional in South Korea. But still, I hadn't experienced a ride quite like this morning's. Two other teachers, Joseph (New York) and Thomas (England) were in another cab. We were speeding along, figuring it was some sort of race, but pretty soon we just realized the cabbie was only a slightly more extreme version of others. He motored through one red light without stopping. He's just in a hurry, we figured. Then he breezed through a second. The third time, he pulled into the far right lane, checked for pedestrians, then cruised through. Soon, all we could do was laugh as he continued to slow at every red light, check for oncoming traffic, pedestrians and/or cops, and mosey on through without waiting for something as pesky as a light to turn green.
Funny thing is, we never felt like anything bad was going to happen. Many drivers eschew laws here and don't find anything odd about it. On my first day, our school's Korean assistant drove me to my apartment. He made a well-thought-out decision to drive the wrong way down a one-way street because it would be quicker. He found nothing wrong with this.
I've been in cities with crazy drivers. Boston, as you might expect, comes to mind. In those cities, people drive like maniacs and hope they get away with it. Here, cab drivers knowingly break laws and know they'll get away with it.
I'm still trying to figure out what's worse.
Back to index
NOVEMBER 16: SERVICE FOR THE SAKE OF SERVICE. WHO KNEW?
I joined a gym that's about three blocks from my apartment. Two things about it stand out from U.S. gyms. One is that I keep my workout sneakers in a locker. I wear shoes to the gym, enter, take them off and leave them on the floor. I open my locker, remove the clean sneakers and use them for the workout. Amazing how the gym floor must be kept pristine but you can basically just discard trash on the sidewalk (more on that another time). Anyway, one result of this is I wear my brown casual dress shoes everywhere, even if I'm wearing white gym socks -- something I could never have done in L.A. without having a machiacco-sipping fashion queen wannabe look at me and text her friend about how silly I looked.
The other difference you don't have someone trying to sell, sell, sell you something every time you stop to wipe your face with a towel. An example follows.
I was using a machine to help tighten my lower back. The woman overseeing the gym stopped me. Despite her limited English, she helped me maximize the machine. On the way up, breathe through the nose. Hold for a second. Exhale on the way down. Repeat. I did what she asked and she looked on. Satisfied I knew what I was doing, she resumed her other duties.
Here is what would have happened in the U.S.
"So you're new here? What's your membership plan? Would you like to upgrade? You can use our sauna for $10 extra bucks a month, and buy a towel to bring into the sauna for an extra $5. You tried a personal trainer? Let me measure your body composition. Boy, you are fat. We can start you off at $200 a month. How's your diet? We'll plan your diet. That's $120 more per month. What's that? You don't have enough money left to actually buy your food? We accept credit cards ..."
The gym, by the way, costs $65 US per month. It's one of the few things in Korea that's more expensive that what can be had in the States.
Back to index
NOVEMBER 8: SETTLING IN (BUT ONLY LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO RUN HOME AND CATCH THE SECOND HALF OF CHELSEA AT BLACKBURN)
I attended the season finale for Daegu F-uh C today. It's really Daegu FC, but Koreans turn "F" into two syllables, so much so that the chants include the rhythm for "uh" between "F" and "C". Anyway, I'm at the Daegu F-uh C game with Andy Rohrback, my former cohort at the Best Yet Gazette. He tells me, "I can't believe we're here. A year and a half ago at this time we were cramming the Sky Sox box score to make it fit." If you don't understand what he's talking about, don't worry. It's as boring as it sounds.
His point (and mine) is not to mock those left at The Gazette, but to reinforce the amazement that we decided, on our own accord, to blow town, try different things, and eventually both end up in Korea. Andy and I have different plans -- he appears headed for mission work, and I have no freaking clue what's next -- but to both be in Korea nand have lunch earlier in the day with another former co-worker, Kristin Marsh, is just surreal.
I am finally settling in. My cupboard is stocked with snacks and some Ramen noodles (which are better here than the U.S. version). I have a coffee machine and Korean-bought toiletries to replace the travel-sized stuff I brought. I have joined a gym (long overdue), gotten a physical (which reminded me to join a gym) and found a cool coffee place where the woman knows my order an offers me free coffee. I've taught a week, established Sunday as my wash day and found a set of fellow teachers to hang out with.
There is so much to talk about, and once I get Internet at my place I'll post more regularly. But I've had a busy weekend and I've been fighting a cold. Keep visiting, OK?
Back to index
NOVEMBER 2: TIME TO BREATHE (BUT NOT FOR LONG)
Well, I'm here. Baldy is here. My Red Sox bubushka dolls are here. I have moved into my apartment, where I shower while standing in front of my sink and get dressed in the TV room. You're welcome for the image.
There's no way to go through everything today. But I'll give you some bits and pieces of what has been the first week of a startling and hopefully rewarding experience.
My apartment is located in the Siji area of Daegu, within walking distance of Daegu Stadium. There's a park right next to the stadium -- more on that in a second. I took a walk the other night in a street behind my apartment and found about five coffee shops within the length of three football fields. That's the good news. The bad news is nobody seems to make just straight-ahead, brewed coffee. It's all the fancy stuff, which is good because I dig cafe mocha but bad because I can't buy that every day. Or can I? I did in the Springs. There are Dunkin Donuts throughout Korea but I have yet to find one close to my apartment.
Next to my place there's a small park to let Baldy play. My kitchen is bigger than my TV room in Colorado Springs. The washroom is its own room, meaning I can just toss my dirty clothes on the floor and not care. It is more than functional and about a 15-minute walk to work.
The most unusual facet of the Korean apartment is the shower. There is no separate shower. The head is on the wall. You turn a knob on the sink. And you shower in the middle of the bathroom. The floor allows the water to drain. I suppose I could brush my teeth and shower at the same time. Problem is, the mirror is set up for someone 4-foot-2. In other words, perfect for you, Mom. And I must be careful to store the toilet paper in the cabinet or else it gets wet. It's an odd setup, but easily adjustable to.
Eating out is incredibly cheap. I just had battered fried pork with sweet potato, kimchee, soup, rice, a small salad and some yellow round crunchy things. It cost $4 USD. I haven't found a bargain like that since Bob and Edith's Diner (I know you hear me on that one, Sushant). There's Gimbap, which aside from prompting the chorus to this song is a safe experience. It's like a sushi roll, only cheaper. Korean fast food, basically, for less than a buck. Gimbap places and street vendors are very cheap and popular. Even the coffee is a bargain (usually).
Baldy was a big hit today at the park next to Daegu Stadium. Seven kids approached, and with my limited Korean ("Annyang haseyo" for hello and "kamsa hamnida" for thank you) and various sign language I convinced them he was cool. Indeed, Baldy was a champ. Photos to come soon. He had swiped a bone with fried chicken, and I used it to play fetch. Soon the other children were tossing the bone and Baldy was retrieving it and bringing it back. Their parents shot pictures of us as a group. One of the kids even brought me an orange as a gift (the fruit is very good here, by the way). Some Koreans are scared stiff of dogs, even the world's cutest Corgi, but Baldy met many friends at the park today.
I begin teaching tomorrow. Actually, by the time many of you read this I'll be at school, either preparing to teach or having completed my day. I spent two days observing classes and another day running parts of class. I feel comfortable talking to the kids. The biggst battle will be prepping, maintaining the assignments and homework, and having our system down pat. That'll come in due time. Until then, I'll arrive at school about 2 1/2 hours before my first class. Normally teachers are required to be there 30 minutes beforehand.
That's how things stand for now. If you have questions, you can email me or post a question on my Facebook wall and I'll answer them. Until then, _______________. (Does anyone know the Korean phrase for goodbye?)
Back to index
