No Call Number: 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.