Vintage Baseball

Ever wonder what happened to all those Montreal Expos fans, abandoned after the franchise suffered the sad fate of relocation so many years ago? Turns out, a few of 'em are kickin around Korea.

My weekly Sunday explorations are intriguing to say the least. Wandering up and down the worn out -but lively! - alleys of Busan, I find the most obscure things: brittle and painfully detailed works of art, sitting inconspicuous on back cornerstore shelves. Tiny herds of little old women, brewing strange soups and roasting chestnuts on outdoor firepits. Litters of newborn wild kittens, peeping hopefully up at me as I pass by - I'm sorry! I'm not your mama!

Of course, all this may be precisely what one would expect to see while wandering the back streets of South Korea, but the thing is, Korea is so much more unpredictable than that. Because just when you think you've effectively removed yourself from the touristy world of your Spongey-adjacent Haeundae beach apartment, finally immersed in the true, untainted world of rich Korean culture, you run into this:

... and you can't help but wonder why right here, displayed precariously on a thin wire hanger in the far left corner of an all-Korean linen and sock shop, seemed like a good place to sell a Montreal Expos sweater.

Dear Korea; you are a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.

#9. If There Is War

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Wednesdays are rough. I teach 10 straight classes, and endure a tedious end-of-day teacher's meeting. Sometimes I don't make it home until 9pm. Today was...same same. I bring this up only because today's weekly meeting is worth mentioning. Consider it 'Crazy-Sally Rant, Part II'.

As you know, last night North Korea opened fire on the civilian-populated island of Yeongpyeong, just off the Northwest coast of South Korea. From what I understand, the attack was in unnecessary retaliation to a denied request for South Korea to cease military testing in the area. Regardless, North Korea's reaction is alarming. Last night I received an email from the Canadian embassy in Seoul, advising all Canadian citizens to prepare to flee the country should an emergency situation occur.

Anyway, during today's weekly meeting, I immediately noticed point #9 on the agenda: If There is War. Obviously, Sally wanted to discuss the possibility of such a crisis; a little surreal, but definitely something worth mentioning. In truth, I was more surprised by the fact that Sally would even broach the subject. I assumed she would deal with Korean warfare the way she deals with all life's problems: remain in a state of intense denial and avoidance until the last minute, when you are forced to take some course of action. Why would full-blown war be any different?

Sally's response to the whole situation (and this one's a kicker) went something like this, "I know you heard about North Korea attacking South Korea yesterday, and I am sure your are nervous about this. But...I think that North Korea will not waste the good weapons on Busan. They will attack Japan first, and then Seoul. So you will have many time to fly home".

Oh Sally. That kind of tact just can't be taught.

Kindergarten Espionage

Today I experienced Sally at her finest. That woman is so crazy.

A few weeks ago Sally asked the teachers to attend a New Parents Day at school, one Saturday during November. Today was that day. New Parents Day allows potential new students and their families to attend a presentation at the school, encouraging them to enrol for next year. Naturally, it's a big deal for Sally, she wants to boost her numbers and continue making money, I get it. Probably not necessary that she hyperbolizes the event by saying things like, "it's more important than my wedding day''.

A few months working for Sally, and nothing really shocks you anymore. So this morning I was only mildly surprised when the first thing she said was, "Teachers! When you see Clara, Angelina and Crystal today," (3 of the Korean staff at my school) "you must pretend not to know them. They will arrive disguised as Moms and they will say good things about the school to the other parents". Oh...my...gosh, Sally. You are planting your staff as spies around a kindergarten school during new parents day. You've reached a new level of weird.

For the remainder of the morning Sally carried on her strange, anal retentive behaviour. Yet again, I spent a lot of time today stifling laughter.

Well, New Parents Day is (thankfully) over. I'm now at home staring at some beautiful weather outside so I'm going to go enjoy it. Tonight, it's Busan's annual Battle of the Bands kick-off week, so I'm going to go have some fun. It's the weekend - you should too!

Props

The highlight of my day was teaching my main bud Louis to give me props. Hearing that 5 year old Korean voice exclaim "props!" while his tiny fist punches mine, is utterly entertaining - I couldn't stop laughing. It's hard to get the full comedic effect without actually seeing it, but imagine a miniature, Korean version of James Dean (but slightly cooler, and definitely more obsessed with Power Rangers) giving you props. Yeah, pretty funny.

Today was a good day, despite a terrible lunch experience - the first of my random menu ordering episodes to go totally wrong. I had a major craving for...soup...but this time it didn't work out so well. Instead of delicious spicy beef, I received a big, honkin bowl of milky-coloured broth smelling of boiled pork, in the worst way possible. I actually gagged a little when it arrived to the table.

I gave the dish a stir to view the contents, and it was the usual: cooked pork, onions, a bit of rice, tiny blobs of oil, OK, not that bad. I'm starving so I might as well just - but that's when I saw it. The long, tubular, just-off-skin-colour piece of something poking through the surface of the oily broth. And suddenly, there were more. An onslaught of misshapen meaty-looking bits floated to the top of my bowl, unidentitified animal parts staring up at me in a desperate attempt to seem edible. In reality, every one of them screamed 'organ tissue!'. Ughhh. I gagged again and pushed the bowl away.

So, instead I feasted on the few sides of kimchi scattered around my table, and grabbed a diet coke on my way back to school to tide me over till dinner. I kinda lost my appetite by that point anyway; forget diet plans and weight loss pills, Jenny Craig has nothin on that dish.

Easy Like Sunday Morning

Sundays are a day of decompression. Meant for rest and relaxation, waking up late and wandering around the city, and (now that the weather is getting colder)...eating soup.

A recent 'point and order' restaurant experience has developed into one of my favourite meals. The place by my house with the spicy beef soup is a new staple hang-out spot of mine...the outdoor patio is just off the busy mainstreet, and it's a great place to go for cheap & easy home cookin. Plus, the waitress kind of knows me now, so she holds the rice on my order and brings extra kimchi instead. Perfect.



(From the bottom left) 2 kinds of Kimchi, chili pepper paste, green chillies and garlic (for soup seasoning), and my delicious spicy beef soup, served boiling hot on a cold fall day...mmm.

You Can Run, But...

It's 2010 census season in Busan, and man do these Koreans want their info.

The pressure to complete your census survey in Korea versus Canada is incomparible. In Canada, census workers will knock on your door a few times, leave a flyer or two, run a little ad campaign. But as far as I know, they'll never physically stalk you.

Several coworkers have so far incurred the wrath of Korean census personnel: cornered in an empty elevator, called incessantly one early Saturday morning, tracked down at work...literally. Apparently a few of them were able to gather enough information about one of the foreign girls at my school, to discover her place of employment. Next thing she knew, our boss was shoving census forms in her face, telling her to get it done. And yeah, I laughed (at her, not with her).

In light of all that, I wasn't surprised when my video doorbell rang at 11:30 the other night, and a couple of miscellaneous census women, pen and paper ready, were suddenly peering in from the apartment wall screen. Awake or not, NO WAY was I answering the door that late - I can't condone that kind of round-the-clock harassment. If you're going to act crazy and obsessive, at least keep it to daytime hours.

Regardless, I intend to be a good little Korean resident and fill out the damn thing online. If they want my info that badly, they can have it. Except my cell number - that I shall guard with my life.

Hello Kimchi

I'm laughing right now because a new Mexican restaurant just opened in Haeundae and they named it "Hello Kimchi". Apparently they specialize in burritos? Go figure.

It's Saturday morning, the sun is shining, and I just got paid: the outlook is good. I'm currently eating half an avocado with garlic kimchi (strange but delicious combo) and watching a random Keanu Reeves movie on tv - it's my only English option.

This afternoon I plan to wander around a few new areas of Haeundae. Whenever I travel or move somewhere new, one of my favourite things to do is run outside. An outdoor jog a few times a week teaches you so much about the city. I make a point of varying my route each time, to learn new areas and make a few mental notes about the places I want to further explore on the weekends.

Last week I came across a really cool row of art shops in Jaesong-dong, about 20 minutes Northwest of my apartment. They're owned by a crew of little old Korean men who are always toiling away indoors, intently focused on their work, oblivious to the hustle and bustle of the busy streets outside. I peered inside a few of the windows the other night after closing, the paintings and pottery look so cool that I just have to go back to see them up close. Plus, I can now say "How much is this?" in Korean, in case something catches my eye.

Alright, my Keanu movie just ended, that's my cue to get a move on. I will let you know how my art trip goes.

Smile, it's the weekend!!!

Saranghaeyo

I've recently taken to expanding my Korean linguistic skills via YouTube video lessons. In a few short weeks I've tripled my vocabulary and improved my pronunciation tenfold. It's great for getting around the city, but kinda awkard when people assume you're fluent and suddenly launch into full-fledged Korean conversation.

At the end of each lesson I make a point of quietly standing beside one of my kids at school the next day, and repeating whatever phrase I learned the night before. If they whip their head around and gasp "Hoh! Teacher! Korean!" then the lesson was a success. If they don't react, it means I'm saying something wrong.

Last weekend I finished a 10 minute lesson on the various ways to express "I love you" in Korean. Turns out that YouTube lesson was more useful than I thought.

Amidst a (rare) quiet moment with my 6th period Atlanta class, 5 year-old Catherine stopped writing and peered up at me from her desk to say "Teacher, saranghaeyo". The light went on in my head: all this time Catherine was telling me that she loves me. For weeks I've been wondering what the heck that kid's always saying. Anyway, my heart melted a little and I realized that I must be the easiest adult in the world to manipulate, because for the rest of the class we played Hangman. And then I gave them all stickers.

Overall, today was a good day. It was Tom teacher's birthday, so we had some delicious cake to celebrate, plus, he just found out that he scored in the 93rd percentile on his LSAT's. For some reason the rest of the foreign teachers reacted like proud parents when we heard the news, despite the fact that we're all the same age. I just can't fathom having the brain power to study the way that he did for the past couple of months, while working this job.

Anyway, I'm off to the gym in a bit, but I have news for you Canada: tomorrow is FRIDAY! In the comically sarcastic words of my friend Niki, "I'm not mad about it".

Edible Adventures

It's no secret: I love Korean food. Bring me a meal that's colourful, spicy, and includes a few free sides of kimchi, and I'm a happy gal. So you can imagine the illiterate frustration I experience when forced to bypass the rows of intriguing restaurants overflowing with Korean patrons each day, in favour of a safer option known for its English small-print at the bottom of the menu.

It's one of the downfalls to living in a country where you don't speak the language: simple, everyday tasks (like ordering from a restaurant menu) become an ordeal. It's amazing the things you take for granted in life. I long for the independence to sit down in one of the popular 'local' restaurants and peruse the delicious options until something catches my eye.

This weekend my frustration got the better of me; I decided I'd had enough. No more will I base mealtime decisions around my literary capabilities: I want to try something new darnit! So on Sunday afternoon while walking home from a Dilbert-free gym session, I committed to a new little philosophy called: point, and hope for the best!

It's pretty straightforward really. If I want to eat at a restaurant that offers no English menu or English speaking-staff, I simply accept the fact that I won't know what I'm ordering. I just walk in, point to a random item on the menu, and wait.

I've done it twice already this week, and so far it's working out quite well. On Sunday I enjoyed a delicious bowl of bubbling hot spicy beef soup (or...I hope it was beef) with various sides of kimchi, garlic, and hot chillies for seasoning. Yesterday I popped into a restaurant beside my school for some sort of vegetable stew with an egg on top, accompanied by six sides of kimchi, seaweed strips, and various other seasoned vegetables.

I'm aware that this approach may not always work in my favour. But as of right now, I'm two for two.