Korean beer

Korean beer.

It's not like normal beer that millions of people enjoy round the world. Korean beer is a special brand of torture reserved for those who like complimentary fruitloop flavored popcorn and a side of kimchi. I have never heard anyone say that they enjoy the taste of Korean beer, but its cheap and foreigners aren't too picky. Most nights when a teacher is looking for something to take the edge off a long work day, we settle in to a tall frothy mug of maekju, which comes in a number of brands--Cass, Hite, and OB are the favorites, though there are a few more. Now, I am not nor will I ever espouse to be a beer connoisseur. I'll drink it, sure, but I have no opinion about brands or styles. I can't tell an ale from a lager, I have no preference between an IPA and a stout, but I can tell the difference between a decently brewed beer and piss water. Unfortunately, Korea only seems to mass produce the later.

As I am not overly fond of beer myself, this hasn't really been a problem for me. One Korean beer basically tastes the same as another here, so when my coworkers and I hit up the local bar after work, I usually just end up with a Cass when everyone else is arguing about prices and tastes. Sometimes, if I'm feeling really fancy, I'll spring for a Hoegaarden or even a Heineken. But according to the people around me, Korean beer is the worst thing to happen to the world since Hitler (a bit of an exaggeration, I think, but then again I didn't grow up in a microbrewery town).

Cheap domestics are the same here as anywhere; they are definitely the most widely available, but they are not the only option. You can always pay more and get a decent beer, some of which are even made in Korea. There are more microbreweries opening every year, but due to the law that states that a company must have 30 billion won capital to sell commercially, you can't get most of these brews on the shelves. Also, to be fair to the beer here, its definitely not the worst thing I've ever had to drink. I would liken it to a number of cheap domestics in the states, but to put things in perspective for you, in Korea, Budweiser is considered to be a higher end beer. There just seems to be something wrong with that.

Intensives, round 3

I know I didn't give any warning this year, but I am neck-deep in intensives and thought I should drop a note to let you all know that I have not, in fact, disappeared off the face of the planet. I am simply spending 12+ hours a day at work and unable to communicate with everyone because when I am not at work, I'm usually either grading or getting ready to bed. Isn't my life so thrilling?

Some cool things of note for this month. One of the teachers at my school won a photo competition, so now her photograph is on display in a coffee house in Seoul. We are all planning a trip to go see it sometime soon, since Jen is pretty excited about this honor. I have also been doing a little sightseeing this month. I finally made it out to the National Museum of Korea and got to see some pretty cool artwork, including some beautiful pottery and calligraphy pieces that make me want to take up an art class. In another weekend or so, a friend and I are going to go see the local fortress in Suwon, which is one of the oldest structures in the area. So despite the cold, I'm at least keeping a little active around here.

I wouldn't plan on hearing from me for a bit. Intensives is another two weeks long, but after that we have some awesome vacation coming up, and I definitely plan on doing something during that time. Hopefully it includes talking to some of you! I hope that you are all staying warm and taking care out there!

On the first day of Christmas...

On the first day of Christmas, my Korean boss gave to me a giant bag of spicy kimchi....

Merry Christmas everyone! This was a quiet holiday in the South Korean edition of the Newton household. A friend and I made Christmas brunch and exchanged stocking stuffed with gifts. I got two amazing new scarves (one from the mother of a student, whom I love to death). I also went out for Mexican food at night, complete with some margaritas, and then we finished off the night at the local watering hole, reminiscing about Christmas, embarrassing moments, and general thoughts on life.

Christmas is a strange time for expats, to say the least. In Korea in particular, we have some difficulty getting into the holiday spirit. For whatever reason, all the foreigners I know can generally agree on this fact; there is just something about being in this country that makes us feel like today is just another day rather than the holiday we treat it as in America. Personally, I have a new theory as to why that is.

Christmas in Korea is very much like Christmas in Japan. Instead of being a holiday centered around family activity and togetherness, most families in Korea celebrate today by buying a cake and going out with their significant others. Children will get toys, of course, but the idea of Santa is not widely accepted, and even among my preschool students (who are 3-5 years old), the idea that there is one many responsible for bringing toys to all children is laughable. The main difference (from what I've seen, of course) is in the religious aspects of the cultures. In Korea, a larger percent of the population is Christian, so many people will go to church in the evening as well. All of the restaurants, shops, and many places of business are still open, and there are still many people out and about on the streets shopping and carrying on like today is any normal day of the year.

The holidays are difficult for foreigners for many reasons. In a completely different land, surrounded by strangers, missing from the usual celebrations of our families and friends, its very easy to feel lost or depressed during this time, but I think there is something else going on here. There are many differences between a Korean Christmas and an American Christmas, but what I think makes it feel even more pronounced is the lack of consumerist culture that we have come to associate with the holiday season in the states. As annoying as we sometimes find it, businesses start using Christmas music in early November, sometimes sooner, to catch our attention. Stores have special Christmas-themed sales with special decorations and jingles, and we start seeing Christmas memorabilia earlier and earlier every year. In Korea, however, these things are limited, if seen at all. There are special winter-themed advertisements, sure, but nothing specifically geared towards Christmas or the holidays. There are no familiar songs to be heard on the radio, no giant posters spouting messages of holiday cheer. We can do our best to keep up with the decorations and other familiarities, but without the constant reminder of the merchant shops, it can be difficult to keep in mind exactly what day it is.

Of course, the thing that helps more than anything else is the love and support of our families. We love getting cards and packages from home. No matter how small, it is absolutely uplifting to see the look on someone's face when they realize that someone from home has remembered them, and it doesn't matter if it is a box stuffed full of holiday goodies or even a card from their grandparents. It all makes it feel just a little more like the holiday season, but moreover, it makes us feel like we are important--even though we are so far away from home, someone misses us enough to let us know that we are loved.

So a giant thank you to all those who sent holiday love to an expat this year. We certainly couldn't do anything without your love and support, and even though some (read: most) of us are terrible about remembering to send something in return, we are always more than happy to call and let you know.

Merry Christmas from South Korea everyone!

P.S. I wasn't kidding about the kimchi.

Girl seeking Computer

So my computer has started to make whining noises whenever I turn in on. I took it to the computer guy we have around here, but all he could do was shake his head and say "old". Well tell me something I don't know....

This computer has been with me for the past 5 years, which means that in computer-land its about 85--a good long life for a computer these days. Recently, however, it has definitely begun showing its age. First it was the slow processing time, no matter how many times I defrag the hard drive or how much programs I remove. Then it was the errors. Every once in a while my screen has a seizure and I have to do a hard reboot to get it to work properly again. The battery threw a hissy fit at being plugged in to a Korean outlet and will now only hold a charge for 30 minutes. And now we have the whining noise that makes it very difficult to hold a conversation with anyone without getting strange background noises and is just generally very annoying.

In short, though I was trying to hold out for a new computer until next year when I (hopefully) head off to grad school), it looks like my ajuma computer is not going to make it that long. This worries me because I know the price of getting a computer in Korea (definitely not to my taste) and I know how much they will charge me to ship one in. This means that my only real hope of getting a new computer comes at the beginning of December, when I am home for my "holiday" vacation. Of course, this trip just had to come in December, right as I am trying to use my credit cards to pay for graduate school application fees and Christmas presents for people. I guess all I can do is hope that people send money for Christmas/my birthday and that it comes soon enough that I can fix this problem before it starts. Otherwise, you will definitely be seeing a lot less of me. :(

Official Business

Monday marked my one year anniversary in Korea. To celebrate, I went out with some coworkers to a Korean bar, drank Korean beer and soju, and woke up the next morning remembering why I don't do stuff like that anymore. Happy anniversary! ^_^

In related news, the visa process seems to be going okay the second time around. I have a stamp on my alien registration card to show that the paperwork is in process, just in case someone tries to deport me in the meantime. I even got to fill out the Korean census today to show that I am a working, tax-paying resident. Oddly enough, the whole process just made me feel bad again about not applying soon enough to get my mail in ballot. I wish that I had thought to do it sooner, but in reality I would have felt uncomfortable voting since I have not been paying attention to any of the races or the candidates. I guess that's one of the hazards of believing that its our job to make an INFORMED decision on election day. I'd rather exercise my right not to vote than to choose someone on the basis of political affiliation (or, as is the case in most local elections, on the basis of whose name sounds the most interesting).

Hope you are all much better citizens than I, and that you are all doing your civic duty and making a well-thought out selection on this election day.

Korea in Crisis

That's right--CRISIS. It's finally happening, people.

Those of you who have been regular readers since I started posting about Korea have probably had your fill of my ranting and raving about the terrible weather. If that is the case, feel free to skip the next paragraph as I catch everyone else up.

When I arrived in Korea on November 1, 2009, it was all ready a good deal colder than I was used to, having come from California where the weather is perfect almost the whole year through. Within the week I was cursing my stupidity not to pack my winter coat (which my parents then shipped over to me at great cost), and within the month we had already had several snow storms. As if that wasn't bad enough, this cold miserable weather persisted until May, when it finally got nice for three whole weeks before suddenly dropping right into summer weather. And we're not talking California summer. We're not even talking Texas summer. It was between 90-100 F every day and 99% humidity to top it off. This misery lasted until halfway through September, when literally overnight the temperature dropped 30 degrees and we were suddenly plunged into the crisp autumn weather that I am currently enjoying.

Now if you can imagine me--poor little California-acclimated me--suffering through all of the terrible weather, can you just imagine how the rest of the population on the Korean peninsula dealt with it? Not well, let me tell you.

Korea is in crisis, all right. Its obvious to every mother doing her daily grocery shopping, to every business man going out to dinner with his colleagues, to every old lady willing to elbow others in the face to get what she needs to survive.

And its all because there is a cabbage shortage in South Korea.

Yes, the brave Napa cabbage, hundreds of thousands of tons of which are sacrificed every year to feed the nation's kimchi addiction, has perhaps experienced the most desperate struggle against the elements of anyone on the peninsula. Kimchi is served as a free side dish at almost all restaurants, including pizza parlors and Chinese take-out places, but with the cabbage crop down almost 40% from last year, there may not be enough of this staple to go around. The Korean government has had to ease trade restrictions with China to allow them to begin exporting cabbages into Korea. The government is also selling cabbage to markets at reduced cost so that more households can get what they need to survive. While they are encouraging people to enjoy the other types of kimchi (radish and green onion among them), the Korean have been griped by a panic that their most beloved food might soon disappear.

This crisis has been affecting everyone in different ways. A man was arrested in Gangwon-gu for stealing 40 heads of cabbage from a field, and the farmer is seeking a prison sentence of 10 years for it. Ajumas have started getting up...well at the same "before dawn" time as normal, but instead of going hiking or shopping with their friends, they are waiting in droves outside of supermarkets, hoping to get their hands on some of this elusive cabbage and then paying 350% more per head for it. Perhaps the saddest sight of all is the faces of the school children, who see that the kimchi on their lunch plate has been replaced with radish kimchi, which they know to be wildly inferior to the cabbage variety.

Foreigners have not been as deeply impacted by this crisis as others, but we too feel its sting. At the Chinese restaurant down the street where many of the teachers like to eat between classes, the side of kimchi that we have come to expect with each meal has been replaced with a side of raw onion. Perhaps there is at least a little comfort in that the owner knows there is no point in trying to pretend. The Napa cabbage has suffered, and come winter I know I will be among the first foreigners to line up at a volunteer center to wrap the heads of cabbage in warm blankets for the impending chill. Won't you join me?

I'd like everyone to take a few seconds for a moment of silence in honor of these brave souls that perished as a result of the aberrations in the Korean climate.

**Note: if you want to look at a more realistic (read: more serious and accurate) article about the kimchi crisis, go here.

Chuseok Reminiscing

So Chuseok has come and gone and I am sitting down to another few months of nonstop work/graduate school stuff. Chuseok was great though. I made it down to Daegu to see off a good friend who is leaving at the end of the month and then took a detour to Busan to see the sights. I even managed to stay inside my incredibly tight budget (which, for any one who knows me, should come as something of a shock).

Busan was great, albeit incredibly hot and humid. My first day I took a walking tour of the harbor, then went down to the fish market and peered at all the (still living) gooey and slimy dinner specials, watched a vendor start a tuber squirting fight with her neighbor, and then turned down 14 ajumas who wanted me to stay and eat with them. Afterward, I headed up the hill towards Busan Tower. The view from the top was pretty cool, and as I got there just as the sun was going down I got some pretty awesome pictures of the skyline.

The next day I was scheduled to leave at around 5pm, so I woke up early (10am) and headed out to find one of the cool temples I had heard about. I decided to avoid the popular Beomeosa in favor of a smaller temple called Haedong Yonggungsa. It was a pain in the butt to get to--I had to rely on my own dubious Korean listening skills during a 40 minute bus ride and then hike up a small mountain (it felt like a mountain anyway) to get to the cliff where the temple is located. I was rewarded by the breathtaking view and another kind little ajuma who gave me free oranges to eat. Don't let the scenic view and the refreshing sea breeze fool you though. To leave the temple, you have to walk back up all 108 stairs that represent the Buddhist concept of the 108 worldly desires that we all suffer from. Believe me, they didn't forget any.

I know its taken me a while to get this post up, and I hope that you'll forgive me. I sit the GRE in 2 weeks and 5 days, so I'm trying to find all methods of procrastination open to me as I get closer to the inevitable doom. Also, my statement of purpose may or may not be trying to consume my soul. I'll get back to you on that if and when ever I have enough written to actually start requesting recommendation letters. On the other hand, the weather is finally agreeing with me, and I've enjoyed the view from my window of the rapidly turning leaves and the crisp air coming down from the mountain side. It is truly the stuff poetry is made of.