Tag Archives: Korea

November 21, 2013

The Midnight Snack Hawker

It is closer to midnight than 11 and the world is slowly settling down into that warm, blankety zone of sleep and relaxation. Then, from the darkness outside my window comes a melancholy, undulating cry that rises and falls over and over in dreary repetition. Clearly it is a crazy person. Someone, call the police, there is a madman wandering the neighborhood, yelling at the top of his lungs at midnight.

I’m too ~~nervous~~ lazy to call the police, but the man keeps wandering around. Ugh, fine, I’ll go talk to him. Putting on my coat, my shoes, picking up an umbrella as an afterthought in case he attacks me. Down four flights of stairs.

Me: It’s almost midnight. What are you doing?

Apparently Crazy Man: I’m selling chapssal ddeok. Do you want to buy some?

chapssal ddeok: made of rice with red beans in the middle. AKA: mochi

Me: Why on earth would I want to buy ddeok at midnight?

Apparently Very Enterprising Man: I don’t know…maybe you’re hungry. Maybe you want a midnight snack.

Me: Well, do you sell anything else?

Man: No, just ddeok. Now are you going to buy some or not? I have a lot of people to wake up and annoy.

Me: No, go ahead.

Man (taking a deep breath and walking away): Ddeeeeeoooook!!!

I go back upstairs, the man’s caterwauling farther away now and muffled by the neighboring buildings. I open the fridge. Nothing appetizing. Hmm, I would like something to eat. If only I had some fresh ddeok…

(This fictional story is based on actual events and this is a real thing in Korea. Below is a video I shot last night of the man walking past our apartment after 11pm.)

10 Comments | tags: culture, ddeok, Korea, late night, mochi, Tales from the Tower, Tteok, Youtube | posted in Korea

November 19, 2013

Why Korea Feels Colder than Canada

By David Stewart

In general, I like cold. I grew up in Newfoundland, in northeastern Canada, where the daytime temperature during the winter is around -10 Celsius, dropping down to about -20 at night. At times, it can get down to around -40. It’s no fun waiting for the school bus in that, let me tell you.

In Newfoundland, we call this May. [Source]

In Newfoundland, we call this May. [Photo]

In Korea, it’s not nearly as cold. Wikipedia shows the average temperature in January to be between 4 and -6 degrees. Cold, but not crazy cold. Houses here are heated by a system of under floor heating called ondol. It’s wonderful to walk around on, or just lie on, although you have to remember not to leave any chocolate or meltables on the floor.

Public buildings, including schools, however, are not heated that way. Some are not heated at all. Many small schools use nothing but space heaters to heat the classrooms. The students and teachers both where their coats all day long.

The bathrooms also are not heated and most don’t have hot water. Also, the hallways aren’t heated and usually the doors of the school are open all day long.

This is the front door of my main school. Most schools keep their doors open like this all year long.

Why on earth would you keep the door open all day in winter? It’s not masochism, I swear. The reason is ventilation. Koreans love ventilation more than heat, it seems. I had a class once in the library, which was in the back building and didn’t get any sunlight anyway. The principal would come in in the mornings and open all the windows in the middle of winter. It took about 3 hours to get it back to a liveable temperature.

When I was growing up, I never really felt cold, unless I was outside for hours and hours and my gloves got wet. But in Korea, I’m cold most of the day in the winter. I used to like winter a lot more too. I realized that cold is only fun if you can get warm afterwards. Nobody wants to go from cold outside to cold inside. And that is why Korea feels colder than Canada.

(P.S. One unexpected thing that Korea does have a lot of is heated toilet seats. That at least mitigates things a bit when you have to wash your hands with cold water.)

16 Comments | tags: Canada, heating, Korea, Newfoundland, school, Underfloor heating, ventilation, winter | posted in Korea

November 5, 2013

A Hate Letter to Speed Bumps

By David Stewart

Dear speed bumps,

I hate you. I hate the fact that you have shaken my poor little motorcycle to bits by having to continuously drive over you and worn down my brakes by constantly having to slow down to not totally kill my front wheel.

Almost all speed bumps in Korea are painted with this pattern.

I hate the fact that you seem to spawn mostly in the countryside (in Korea, at least), where the open road beckons and the Killjoy McGee that you are keeps getting in the way.

I hate your fake-out cousins, the lines that are painted on the roads to make it look like a speed bump is there. That’s a lie and nobody likes a liar.

Look at it: just paint but no bump. What a liar.

I especially hate your brother, the ninja speed bump that doesn’t have any lines so that it blends in. I hit those full-on and almost go flying.

In conclusion, you slow me down unnecessarily, you damage my bike, and you cause people to die.

Please go away forever,

-David

9 Comments | tags: ambulance, hate, Korea, letter, motorcycle, safety, Speed bump | posted in Uncategorized

November 4, 2013

Apocalypse Climb

By David Stewart

This is a true story, as evidenced by the photographs. But you know me: I can’t help dramatizing things a little.

I saw a preview of the apocalypse this past weekend as masses of humanity pressed together, fighting to ascend (and then descend) a steep, rain-soaked path of tumbled rocks. The horror, the horror…

Koreans love them some mountain climbing and they love them some autumn colors. And considering that everyone loves them some weekend, going mountain climbing on a Saturday in Korea in the fall is like a perfect storm, especially in the rain.

The sky was overcast when I left the house in the morning. I couldn’t find my umbrella, but I had a magic talisman that prevented rain. At least, it rarely rained when I was carrying it and I believe strongly in the principle that correlation implies causation.

I got to the mountain (which is also a provincial park) and as the bus passed long lines of cars parked along the side of the road, my heart sank like a bowling ball in a banana souffle. It was, as the Chinese say, a mountain of people, a sea of people. If zombie hordes wore expensive hiking gear and preyed on autumn leaves, I would have been in a George Romero film.

Everyday I’m shuffling…

The rain started as a fine mist about halfway up the mountain. By the time I got to the park’s famed Cloud Bridge, the path had bottlenecked and so we all stood in the rain, shuffling forward at a snail’s pace until I finally reached the bridge. I looked down at the path 250 feet below me and saw the winding, ant-like column of hikers abandoning the mountain.

I saw a sign saying the maximum number of people on the bridge was 200. Not that anyone was counting.

I gave up the idea of going to the peak. A cloud had sat on the mountain as if it were snuggling into an easy chair and after the bridge was a treacherous metal stairway, over 200 feet high and as steep as a ladder. I wasn’t the only one who decided to cut the trip short and head for the cable car station nearby for a quick trip to the bottom. The trails were choked with sodden hikers, some with expensive cameras, jewelry and nice purses, all picking their way down the slick rocks. I felt like we were refugees from some disaster.

The group on the left are the ones who climbed under a railing and swarmed down the rocks to cut in line on the main path.

“All it takes is one person to slip…” I kept thinking.

There was a two-hour wait for the cable car, nowhere to sit and nowhere particularly warm. At least the view was pretty.

I got home four hours later and soon the apocalypse was only a distant memory. It’s amazing what a hot shower can cure.

14 Comments | tags: adventure, apocalypse, Daedunsan, hiking, Korea, mountain climbing, mountains, non-fiction, outside the tower, photograph, rain, Wanju | posted in Dusk

October 29, 2013

Fall Streets in Korea

By David Stewart

In Korea, there are several indications that it is fall, besides the leaves and temperatures changing. One is that roadside pungeo-bbang (붕어빵 or taiyaki in Japanese) stands start popping up again. Literally, “fish bread”, they are pancake-like cakes shaped like fish, with red beans inside them. They are perfect when you’re walking home in the cold and want a quick snack.

Because they are hot food, a lot of them close down during the summer (when people would rather eat patbingsu anyway). They are often surrounded by a sheet of clear plastic to keep in some heat for the poor person working there and for the people who stop to buy things.

Another change in the roads are the things that are spread out to dry on them. This is more common in the countryside, where farmers spread out rice to dry on tarps, but in the city too you can see hot peppers and other things spread out wherever there is room.

As you see, rice often takes over the sidewalk or a lane of the road. The farmers rake it to get it evenly dried, then go along with a machine to scoop it into bags. This shows the communal nature of Korean society: although I’m sure some crime exists in this area, people don’t go out at night and steal all this rice.

Here is several thousand dollars worth of rice spread out overnight in the provincial capital.

There are other foods too that are spread out to dry. Like melons,which I saw a few days ago.

When we were on Jeju, the semi-tropical island south of mainland Korea, there were lemon peels laid out to dry by the road, I guess to make lemon tea out of.

Don’t you love fall? I realize that in a country with only one or two seasons, there might not be fall like this, but if there is, what other little touches do you see in your area that show that the seasons are changing?

20 Comments | tags: autumn, fall, Jeju, Jeonju, Korea, pungeobbang, rice, street food, taiyaki, Wanju | posted in Korea

October 14, 2013

Happy Thanksgiving! Who is thankful for you?

By David Stewart

No, Americans, you didn’t read that wrong. Today is Thanksgiving in Canada. Of course, in Korea we don’t get the day off and since they don’t eat turkey here, we have to make up our own traditions. In our case, we went out for pizza and watched a creepy movie.

I told my students about Thanksgiving today and asked them what they were thankful for. This is usually what we do on Thanksgiving: take a moment to reflect on the things that we are thankful for in our lives. This is a good practice, of course, and keeps us from taking blessings for granted. However, I realized that it is a passive, recipient-based question, so I decided to turn it around.

Who is thankful for you?

The point of thinking about the things we are thankful for is to count up the blessings we already have. However, the question “Who is thankful for you?” is much more active and has implications for the future as well. In other words, who can we make thankful for us? On a day like Thanksgiving, who can we inspire gratitude in by making their lives better, even in a small way? I don’t need to give you examples: we all know of lots of ways, big and small, to help people around us have a better day or a better life.

Go the extra mile. Try it. Just do it, right?

That is my goal for myself at least: to make others around me thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving.

P.S. Because I have a big Chinese test coming up next Sunday, I won’t be posting anything this week except the ~~Wednesday~~ Friday Fictioneers story. (现在我需要学习很多。)　I’ll be back in full strength next week though.

6 Comments | tags: Canada, Canadian, Chinese, gratitude, Korea, Thanksgiving | posted in Uncategorized

October 1, 2013

Happy Surprises: Gosu Cave

By David Stewart

Don’t you love accidental discoveries and happy surprises?

A few weeks ago, I took a trip across Korea by myself. I’m kind of an introvert anyway, but another reason I like traveling alone is the total freedom to do random things when I want. On the first day, I had just gotten off my second intercity bus of the day in the small rural town of Danyang in the deep mountains of central Korea. It was about 4:00pm and when I checked the bus schedule to see what time the bus would be leaving in the morning for the national park I was going to, I noticed the word “cave” in one of the destinations.

I had not known of any caves in the area, but I hadn’t known of anything in the area, and there are few things that get me as excited as caves. I looked it up on my phone and found it was only a kilometer away. So I started walking. And I got there just before it closed.

It was called Gosu Cave and was pretty amazing for something I had never heard of before, after almost nine years in Korea. It was a limestone cave with some stunning features.

Another amazing thing about it was although it was very high, it was also incredibly narrow. This meant that as I walked through it, I was very close to everything. You could even reach out and touch some of the formations, although I felt guilty doing that, after years of warnings never to do that (the oil in your skin can damage the stone and prevent the formations from growing.)

There was almost no one there since it was almost closing time. Interestingly enough, the two groups that went in at the same time as me were Americans. They were some of the only non-Koreans I saw the entire trip.

There were two courses, a slightly shorter one that was more for families and a longer one that included everything open to the public. It took about 45 minutes to go through it.

The longer route featured a formation called Lion Rock, which looked like a lion’s roaring mouth. Unlike some rock formations (like the bear that I could kind of see), it was pretty clear. You can see it here:

However, this cave was not for the claustrophobic. Some places I had to squeeze through, it was so narrow, and even if I didn’t have my big pack on my back, it would have been difficult. In a few places, I had to get down and crawl for a few feet because the ceiling was so low.

I guess it’s true that we don’t necessarily regret missed opportunities all the time, since we don’t know what we missed, but I am glad things worked out to go here. There was another cave up the valley from this one that I tried to go to the next day, but it was a national holiday (Chuseok) so the cave didn’t open until 12:30 and I couldn’t wait that long. I’ll just assume it wasn’t as good as this one.

Just to prove that I didn’t get these pictures off the Internet.

12 Comments | tags: caves, Gosu cave, hiking, Korea, photograph, travel | posted in Korea

September 28, 2013

It’s the Sky’s Fault

By David Stewart

It was the sky’s fault, of course.

Seriously, who could keep their eyes on the road with such a stunning parorama spread out above them?

The police were suspicious at first, but after my third one-car accident with no trace of alcohol or drowsiness, they started to believe me.

After the last accident, the officer told me he would give me a ticket if he even saw me driving on a nice day.

Oh well. I wonder if there’s such a thing as a glass-roofed bus.

11 Comments | tags: autumn, blue sky, fiction, Korea, photograph | posted in Uncategorized

September 21, 2013

The Green-Walled Church

By David Stewart

I was wandering around Daegu today and came across this church. If the Green-Walled Tower ever had a church attached to it, I’m sure it would look like this. (Plus, if I ever start a theological blog, I’ll have a good image for it. 🙂 )

7 Comments | tags: blogging, church, Daegu, green-walled tower, Korea | posted in Korea

September 19, 2013

Being Home for Chuseok

By David Stewart

I remember our first year in Korea, long ago in 2002. We came in late August and a few weeks later, we found out that we had a few days off, for a holiday called Chuseok. I remember that a Korean woman at church was arranging a trip to an amusement park for a lot of the foreigners because, she said, “it must be so hard to be away from your family on Chuseok.”

A traditional Chuseok scene. The message says: “Wishing you a Chuseok as bountiful as the full moon.”

Hard to be away from my family on Chuseok? Not particularly, since I had just found out about the holiday a few days before.

But for Koreans, Chuseok is a big deal. It is one of the two biggest holidays of the year, along with the ~~Chinese~~ Lunar New Year. It falls on August 15 (according to the lunar calendar) which means that it always coincides with the full moon.

There are several traditions at Chuseok. The main activity, like Thanksgiving, is to get together with family and eat a lot and hang out. For this reason, men and children love it, and women usually dread it. They see it as a time of pretty much non-stop cooking, which it is for them.

People dress up in hanbok (traditional Korean clothes: see the above picture), sometimes play traditional games, and also give gifts. Gifts are usually given between families, however, or to co-workers, and are usually gift sets of food or other things.

The other traditions are cleaning the graves of ancestors, along with memorial rites. As well, the whole family gets together to make songpyeon, which are steamed rice cakes with sugar and sesame seeds inside. They are steamed with pine needles, which gives them a bit of a different taste (although not much).

Songpyeon made by hand are not this neat, usually.

For me, as a foreigner, the main thing I notice about Chuseok (besides the days off work) is the traffic. It is getting better these days with better highways, but still Chuseok traffic is usually a nightmare. I took several buses over to the central part of Korea yesterday and got to the bus terminal several hours early to make sure I could get a ticket.

The thing about the traffic is that because of the geography and population distribution, the traffic is usually only horrendous in one direction. At the beginning of the holiday, everyone is trying to leave Seoul and go south, so if you go north, it’s not that bad. At the end, everyone is trying to get back up north to Seoul, so it’s reversed. Luckily, we live in the south, so we can usually avoid the worst of it (I saw on the news that two nights ago in Seoul, there were hundreds of people waiting for buses and the buses were delayed up to 3-4 hours).

In any case, Chuseok for us is just a time off work, to relax, and travel, perhaps. I hope you have a happy Chuseok today as well.