Boxing Day in Seoul

On our third and final day in the city, we walked a lot. First we went to the Cheongokgung Palace, the imperial seat of the Korean royal house for much of Korea's history. It was a sprawling compound that the literature compared several times to the Forbidden City. I saw many elements of what I've read about in the forbidden city—separate palaces for each member of the royal family, an imposing throne room with a large courtyard leading up to it, a surrounding wall with four ornate gates to match the cardinal directions, and lots and lots of guardian spirit carvings—but I wanted to know more about life there. Was it as insular? Were people not often allowed to leave once they entered? I guess I will have to do more research. All of the structures had been rebuilt at some point, and signs constantly reminded us that we were seeing a piece of what the palace compound used to look like. The official story is that the Japanese burned down the complex in 1910 (I will go into more depth about how the Koreans feel about the Japanese some other time, but there's no love lost there), though I have also read that servants burned down the palace after the royal family fled. I like the latter story better, and I can definitely understand the urge to torch the workplace if you're a palace servant.

While we were at the palace, two English students approached me for a project. They wanted to ask me whether I thought segregation was still a problem in America, and whether it's a problem in Korea. At first I actually tried to give them my opinion—yes, racial segregation is a problem in my area of America, but it gets better with every generation, and I have not detected any racial diversity in Korea, so it would be hard to make a comparison—but I think they got, “Yes, it's a problem in America, Korea is better,” and walked off satisfied. High schoolers everywhere like to simplify the world, I guess. I was a little miffed. Yes, America has a uniquely horrid history of treating non-Euro ethnic groups badly, but we are the only country I've been to that acknowledges and tries to deal with the problem. Yes, you don't have racial strife if you're in a homogenous country, but you lack the diversity of ideas and culture that I find myself missing now. Oh well. I guess everyone thinks they live in the middle kingdom.

After lunch at a porridge restaurant (yes, Korean porridge rocks) we returned to the complex to visit museums. In the palace museum, we saw elaborate seals, record books, some of which were bronze or bamboo, and instruction booklets for putting on the intricate ceremonies of the Joseon royal family. The Joseon dynasty united three warring kingdoms in Korea and brought about an enlightenment in the late 14th century. They established Seoul as the Korean capital. We then went over to the Korean Folk Museum, where I managed to cram a little more information about Joseon farming life into my head. Farming is integral to Korean culture even today, and a lot of the superstitions, traditions, and festivals revolve around the harvest year. Chuseok, the second biggest Korean holiday, is a harvest festival. And, as I may have mentioned before, the produce here is out of this world. We saw a Korean water clock and wood block printing press. Moveable type appeared in Korea almost 100 years before Gutenburg.

We went to Insadong for dinner, which is a traditional Korean shopping street. Now it's mainly souvenir stands, but I had amazing jujube and cinnamon tea at an old wooden tea house and we had a nice Korean meal for dinner.

I leave this morning with mixed impressions of the city. It's even colder here than it is in Daegu, and there are so many people. I have never been in such a jam packed subway, which is saying something because I have been in a lot of subways. There were people who literally couldn't fit in the cars and had to wait on the platform for the next one. There are many more western touches here, and we enjoyed some of the comforts of home (like Indian food and coffee). Seoul is a beautiful city with a rich history, which is apparent in the old temples, statues, walls, and pagodas amidst the modern buildings. It makes me think of Rome. In the end, I'm happy to be going back to Daegu. I like diversity, but I also like not having to travel 45 minutes to get anywhere or shove people out of my way to walk down the street.


The courtyard in front of the throne hall. To get here, you have to go through three gates. The middle walkway is only for the king.











The inside of one of the living quarters. Everyone sits on the floor. Gotta love that ondol heating.















A chimney carved with symbols of longevity for the dowager empress. The king was a bit of a mama's boy.










A pleasure palace in the middle of a lake. The king and his guests would boat around for awhile, then would feast in the open air pavilion. The floor has three levels: the more important you are, the higher you sit.










A Korean water clock.

Merry Christmas from Seoul, Part 2

Yesterday was probably my most memorable Christmas. Well, it's up there with the year I got a gerbil, at least. After breakfasting on Christmas cake and actual coffee, Bobby and I headed downtown. We had planned to see the South Gate, the ornate former main gate to the city. When we emerged from the subway it was raining. We grabbed a hot tea (first of three that day) and an umbrella from street vendors and walked down towards the gate. It was unfortunately undergoing a major renovation. We saw a few bricks through a glass window. We turned around and headed back towards Deoksu palace, one of many in Seoul and the original seat of the Joeson dynasty. Much of the palace compound has been moved or destroyed to make room for the growing city, but we saw an ornate throne room and some residences, as well as a westernized banquet hall with chairs that the king created for his foreign guests. There was a shrine for a murdered queen and some gardens as well. Finally I had had enough of the cold rain, so we went to an art museum.

It was an underwhelming art museum—only two artists' work was displayed--so after another tea we headed back to Itaewon to have dinner. We had booked us two spots at Chef Meili's restaurant for a set Christmas dinner. At chef Meili's we found candles, Christmas music, and the cadence of English, a welcome ambience for foreigners missing home a bit. The food was amazing.

We hopped back on the subway to go downtown and see the Chrismas lights on Cheongyye Stream, a rustic stream that the mayor uncovered as part of a beautification project. When we emerged from the subway, it was snowing. As a southerner, a white Christmas is a particularly special event for me. The light show was spectacular, made more so by the falling flakes. Many Koreans we passed wished us a Merry Christmas. We stopped for a hot chocolate and went back to the hotel to watch the snow accumulate from the window. I have to add that we finally broke into the Moravian cookies that Bob and Mary Remsburg sent us over with. We were saving them for a special occasion, and it seemed like just the one.


The main ceremonial hall and some gardens













I love the woodwork on the windows. You could walk between many of these buildings without going outside.












This stone is in the middle of the walkway up to the main ceremonial hall
















Christmas lights at Cheongyye Stream

Merry Christmas from Seoul, Part 1

If you have been following this blog, you are probably aware of my coffee related woes. Well, I'm pleased to report that this morning, for the very first time, I managed to get a large coffee ground from real coffee beans this morning when I woke up. And it only cost me 2000 won. It's December 25, and the man who made me what I wanted most for Christmas bowed and told me, “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year” as he handed my steaming cup of morning delight, TO GO, so I could take it up to our room and enjoy it in my pajamas.

Here we are in Seoul, and it's a lovely morning. Well, it's gray, but it's above freezing. There are more non-Asians in Seoul than I've seen in awhile. In Daegu, when I encounter a foreigner off base, I want to start a conversation (and often do) because it is such a rarity. In Seoul, after seeing about 10 foreigners, I finally noticed that I was the only one staring.

For Christmas Eve we went to Itaewon for a reading and found Indian food. It was not the Indian food I wistfully remember, but it involved Indian spices, jasmine rice, and coconut milk, and was therefore heavenly to my tikka masala deprived palate. The readings were fun, performed by an expat acting group called the Seoul Players and ranging from the book of Luke to The Santaland Diaries. The bar served eggnog and mulled wine, and I welcomed the comforts of home for awhile.

We bought a Christmas cake at the train station. This appears to be a Korean Christmas tradition, and I saw several Koreans carrying around cakes yesterday. This is a Korean tradition I am happy to adopt. It even came with a present, a cheesy hat that I've seen a lot of people wearing (apparently I wasn't the only one to succumb to the allure of the bear cake at Dunkin Donuts).



Itaewon
















Christmas cake

Wheels at last!

I am now the proud owner of a 1997 Hyundai Sonata 3. The car has been inspected three times, we visited the auto dealership four times and not once did we drive the car off the lot, and I signed a lot of forms that were written in Korean (and took them elsewhere to be stamped and signed again). I provided more proof of my identity and right to live in this country than I showed to the organization that gave me thousands of dollars in cash to pay for a home. I still can't drive the car on base, since the vehicle ID office keeps odd hours. Nonetheless, I feel sixteen again.

My jubilation at having a new car was cut short when I first tried to drive it around. Korean drivers are impatient and inconsiderate, which I guess could have more to do with living in a big city than Korea. I can't drive slowly or hesitate before making a turn unless I want someone to honk at me. If I want to enter a road, I have to hold my breath and assume the person approaching me will slow down. I may know where I want to go, but I will probably encounter a few turns I can't take or instances where I have to turn rather than go straight. Finally, there are cameras everywhere, and I have been assured that I will receive a ticket or two in the mail with my picture over a large price tag. There is no traffic court in Korea. As a matter of fact, if I'm traveling some distance and I pass through toll gates too quickly, I get a ticket.

I will try to find a road map the next time I go on base, since even Google maps can't help me with Daegu. Friends have assured us that the best way to find our way around is to get lost a few times, which is how we learned Charlotte. Many of the roads don't really have names. Street addresses are new to Korea, and people still give directions by landmark.

For now, we're sticking around Namgu, our neighborhood, and taking the subway if we can. It's still the best way to be sure you get where you want to go. It snowed today, as though Daegu knew that I was missing the snow in North Carolina. Happy snow day, everyone.

Car shopping and big fat wads of cash

Yesterday I paid for the house we are currently occupying. In accordance with USFK policies, we did not pay a down payment with a promise for monthly rent. Instead, we paid the entire two years rent up front. Moreover, we paid it in cash. My jaw dropped when my housing department told me this, but I dutifully made an appointment with my bank to withdraw the staggering amount of money, which had appeared in my account before we moved in. The soonest they could provide me with cash in hand, by the way, was a week afterwards.

So I spoke to our realtor about it, and he arranged for the landlord to meet us at the bank to witness the cash being counted. The bank manager came out and observed as well. I'm not comfortable posting how much cash it was on the internet, but let me assure you that I have never seen anything close to this dollar amount in my bank account before, much less in cash. The teller put stacks of hundreds through the counting machine while everyone observed. Then the realtor asked to flip through the stacks of bills to assure the landlord that they were all benjamins. They then placed the stacks in a huge envelope and handed it to me. I held on to this cash for about 10 minutes while we walked over to housing, at which point I handed it over in front of witnesses from our housing department. We both signed a statement that I had paid my rent, and it was notarized. We now have a place to live for the next two years. That kind of security is a wonderful feeling, though not as thrilling as holding tens of thousands of dollars in cash.

We went car shopping with Mr. Pan later in the day. This was an unusual and frustrating experience for us. In Korea, there is no test driving, no carfax reports, and no haggling over price. I couldn't even read the specs of the car, since they were all in Korean. I'm fortunate to have Mr. Pan, since he asked questions for us and told us what the car dealers, who spoke no English, were saying. Regular readers of this blog may notice a pattern—Meri is given a sharp reminder that she is in a country where she can't communicate with 90% of the people, and Mr. Pan rescues her from disaster. Living in Korea must be a completely different experience for Americans who lack such a selfless and dedicated friend with a strong grasp of English. I have also been getting to work every day without a car thanks to Mr. Pan. I'm racking my brain trying to figure out a good enough Christmas gift for him.

Tonight we had dinner at our next door restaurant. We paid 20,000 won (about 17 dollars) and got a small plates of several of our favorite Korean dishes. Right now I am looking out at the flashing crosses of Daegu's churches (churches in Daegu resemble casinos in garishness, more so at Christmas) feeling warm and satisfied. As it is below freezing outside, this is a testament to the soup and tea that was a part of our meal.

After a quick inspection from our base mechanic, by the way, we have decided to buy the car. It's a 1997 Hyundai Sonata 3, and our mechanic told us it was a solid car as long as we didn't try to take it too far. Tomorrow we go to the car lot to sign the paperwork, then start what will probably be a harrowing process of getting the car registered with the city of Daegu and the U.S. military.

Our Neighborhood

Now that I've had a few days to explore, I'd like to write about some of highlights of my neighborhood. When we moved, we knew we were entering restaurant row, and we haven't even explored a small percentage of our local restaurants. We're certainly trying to eat our way through our neighborhood, but this project will take at least a month. In the meantime, I took a walk in our “backyard” (a.k.a. Apsan Mountain) today. It's a slog and I still haven't made it all the way to the top, but I have reached some amazing vantage points. The city of Daegu looks like a sea of white buildings with a few green islands (parks). There's a trail up Apsan mountain right across the road from our villa, along with a batrhoom and some exercise equipment. Every park in Daegu has lots of exercise equipment that Daegu's boomer population puts to good use. In America, parks are for children. Here, it seems, they are for adults.

Down the the road—literally, as we have to go down a steep hill—is our Home Plus, which is Tesco in Korea with some housewares and appliances thrown in. As I have misplaced my ration card, we do all of our shopping off base at the moment, and we spent all morning trying to find American foods in the grocery store. We were marginally successful. There doesn't appear to be wheat bread in Korea, but we did get some awesome nut tea they call Jok's tears and some instant coffee. Instant coffee is not really my style, but yesterday I discovered that none of the eight “coffee shops” around my house are open in the morning. I'm not sure I can consider these coffee shops, since they don't resemble what I expect, and I don't have a lot of patience for cultural differences when I am undercaffeinated. I have wandered into two or three hoping to get a cup of coffee to go, only to be invited to sit down, served tons of snacks along with coffee (no cream, no sugar) and charged about 5 bucks. We don't have a coffee maker at the moment, though I'm (kind of) confident that I had the presence of mind to pack our coffee maker in unaccompanied baggage, which gets here next week. If not, I will be heading back to the Home Plus to try and figure out Korean coffee makers. We also bought slippers, quintessential for every Asian home though really hard to find in Bobby's size.

Between the Home Plus and our house is our local sijang (market), where I can buy local produce, rice cakes, meat, fish, and market food. Little stalls sell dumplings, spring rolls, rice cakes in sauce, noodles, sausages, Korean pancakes, and twigim (take something, put it on a stick, fry it, enjoy) and you can sit on a stool in the stall to eat it. We can eat a great lunch for under a dollar here.
Daegu at sunset: the poetic view














Here you get a better glimpse at just how many buildings there are. This is Central Daegu.












The best shot of the sijang I could get in the fading light. It's those lights off in the distance.













A food stall.

Our House (Is A Very Very Very Fine House)

Hello from our fantastic new house. It's very big and empty right now, as we haven't even gotten our unaccompanied baggage yet. Our furniture is not supposed to arrive until January. Nonetheless, it's good to be home.

We had an appointment to meet our realtor at one. It was raining today, and Mr. Yu kindly drove us to the hotel to pick up our copious amounts of luggage. We had excessive luggage when we arrived here, and we've managed to acquire quite a bit more in the past month. Mr. Pan took me to the Emart yesterday, which was something like an Ikea. I was lucky to have a Korean with me, since navigating superstores in America is complex.

Anyways, we packed Mr. Yu's car to the gills and drove down to meet Louis Jang, our realtor and the only Korean I know whom I call by his first name. While we were driving, Mr. Yu told me that rain is auspicious for a moving day. It means we will be rich. Louis lead us to our stunning new home, which astounded Mr. Yu. Louis explained to him (in Korean, so I have to take his word on this) that this is a really good time to rent a home. After unloading our luggage, Louis pasted stickers on all of our appliances with English translations. We had several “classes,” with breaks in between—thermostat, washer/dryer, air conditioner, doors, security system, stove, refrigerator, transformers—we have a lot of gadgets in this house, most of which have more options than we will ever use. Mr. Pan showed up with rice cakes and rice wine. We put one rice cake and glass of wine in the bedroom, and another in the kitchen. This brings good fortune to us. We ate the rest of the rice cakes and drank some wine.

Mr. Pan hung around and learned about our house so that I can call him if something goes wrong, and he can call our landlord, who doesn't speak any English. While Louis was sticking notes on our appliances, Mr. Pan talked us through some of our delivery menus. In the magic wonderland that is Korea, you can get anything delivered. Louis tested us to make sure we can get into our house and turn on the heat, then rushed off to another appointment. Mr. Pan ferried me back to the library, while Bobby waited around for our loaner furniture to arrive. Right now we have a couch, a kitchen table, a coffee table, a chair, and a bed. Of our eight rooms (not counting laundry room, bathrooms, and walk in closet) we occupy three, which is about how many we used to have.

Tonight we went to our closest restaurant—a tough competition, since we live on a restaurant street—which says uyanjang. It turned out to be a traditional Korean restaurant, so we slipped off our shoes, went into a private room, and sat on the floor. In the spirit of our first day as official Daegu residents, I ordered two uyanjong's. I'm still not sure what this means, but I imagine it's something like “thousands of courses.” We thought we were done, and the hostess brought more! It was all delicious, and cost us something like 18 bucks. By the time we got back, our ondol heating system was kicking, which makes the floor very toasty. We puzzled over our trash bags for a bit. I think I'm going to have to ask Mr. Pan about those.

I am sitting on our loaner couch now sipping (okay inhaling) this plum wine that Mr. Pan's wife made for us. I can see the city of Daegu through our windows, which glitters at night. Bobby keeps running across the house and sliding in his socks. I don't think either of us ever imagined we would have such a nice house. I don't think we need rain or wine in the bedroom to consider ourselves fortunate.

Wine and rice cake for our bedroom














A bigass delivery menu (fortunately, with pictures)













Bobby enjoying the ondol heating system

Korean Christmas

Yesterday, Mr Pan came in and announced that it was time to decorate for Christmas. This tugs at my emotions a bit, since Bobby and I will probably not be decorating our house for Christmas this year. Anyways, the guys produced boxes of decorations from somewhere, and Mr Pan set about directing Mr. Kim and Mr. Yu in Korean while I stood by and obstinately tried to get involved. These guys are pretty big on keeping the librarian away from manual labor, but eventually Mr. Pan noticed how much I wanted to help and set me to decorating the tree. Meanwhile, Mr. Yu was defiantly giving two Santas four reindeer apiece. I rattled off all of their names to try and convince Mr. Yu that there were in fact eight reindeer and one Santa, but Mr. Kim, the joker, said that there needed to be two Santas to carry so many presents and turned back to his work, singing “Jingle Bells.” By the end of the morning, we had one fully decorated tree, stockings on the circ desk—my idea, as the men wanted to put them on the tree—and two Santas with four reindeer apiece in the children's room. Mr. Kim also strung green tinsel from the ceiling over the circ desk while I pleaded with him to be careful. I got a wreath on my office door, which I have to duck to go in and out.

I know none of my Korean library family reads this blog, but I have to mention how I will remember that morning, with fondness, as my first Christmas in Korea. My Walker library staff is closer to my heart than they can imagine. I guess being in a foreign land can make one sentimental and needy, especially around the holidays. Meri from a month ago would be rolling her eyes at my soft underbelly, but there you have it.