Translate

December 27, 2012

Christmas In Korea, Year 2

     Greetings from my desk!  Wow, it feels great to say that.  After 16 months in Korea, I finally have 1 school at which I can absolutely desk-warm while students and teachers are on vacation (as opposed to 5 schools that demand attention to different programs each day of the week, as was the case last year).  This means that I have some time to plan English camp, and plan next semester (diligent thinking!), as well as some time to catch up on anything else I'd like to--movies, music, blogging, reading, anything!  So I'm happy to write this from my desk on a frigid Thursday afternoon.  My camp planning is complete and I think it's fair to take an hour of my time and tell you a little bit about Christmas in Korea.

It's come and gone.  
Christmas for 2nd straight year in Korea.  

     I wish I could tell you that it cured my homesickness, but has not.  However, this was really as great a Christmas as I could've expected with some folks that I, without hesitation, would certain call a semblance of a family here in Pyeongtaek.  Last year, I had a really nice brunch with some good friends, but spent the majority of the day sitting on floor heating, waiting for a chance to Skype with some family, and generally feeling sorry for myself.  

     It goes without saying at this point that the homesickness reaches its peak around the holidays--namely, in my case, Thanksgiving and Christmas.  While there's no need to inform you about the brilliance that is the Hurd Christmas agenda, suffice it to say that it involves a midnight choir service (complete with the classic, candle-lit "Silent Night"), some morning gifts from relatives, football watching and playing, Christmas music on repeat, about 25 friends and relatives packing into houses that can't possibly accomodate such a crowd, a little shopping, some historical bumming around and bar crawling in Philadelphia, and, consequently, more cheesesteaks, hoagies, and hot wings than you can shake a stick at in a year's time.  The only thing that we're usually missing on that trek to Pennsylvania is snow.  

     So you can imagine Christmas in Korea is...well, a tough sell.

There's no right way to do Christmas. You just do it. 
The best way you know how.

     Completely inconsequentially, I was watching "Shrek the Halls" with my students not a week ago (in part because it's kid-friendly and runs for approximately 28 minutes, and in part because it's the only Christmas-themed movie I could find that had subtitles attached).  

     Although I grew sick of the movie, one line stood out.  Puss, to a saddened, sorry Shrek who has never experienced a "real" Christmas, says softly and confidently,


     There's no right way to do Christmas. You just do it.

     It sounds simple and ideal, but I think it rings true for almost anyone.  I cannot truly and simply explain to anyone, exactly, why we do what we do on Christmas and Christmas only.  I cannot truly and simply explain to anyone why the 1 day of the year on which I feel comfortable and even joyful going to church is Christmas Eve.  I cannot truly or simply explain what connection, if any, stuffing myself with hoagies and chicken wings have to Christmas.  This is the beauty of Christmas, I think--it's different for everyone, and that's what we take such pride in.  It feels quirky and comforting that the things in which I take the most pride in over the holidays have come to mean nothing as far as the actual "Christmas" part of it is concerned.  It's not like we couldn't do such things on any other day of the year, but we only do them around Christmas.  It's a powerful holiday.

Christmas in Korea.

     So as homesick as one might be abroad for the holidays, the best thing one can do is exactly what one would do at home, no?  I've been watching college football bowl games at my desk, eating a bit more Western food this week (shameful), and [prepared some gifts to exchange with my girlfriend.

     But it is always people who make such things memorable, and I cannot thank my friends--no, my family here in Pyeongtaek for making this Christmas as memorable as it could have been abroad.  My good friend Cheng hosted a great potluck dinner and gift exchange night, and for those 6-7 hours, with some of my best friends in Korea, I didn't once think about what I might be missing at home (no offense).  In that moment, there was, truly, no right way to do Christmas.  We just did it.

     With food.  And more food.  And friends (family).  And gifts.  And card games.  And lots of picture-taking and goofing around.  And hugs.  And more food.  And alcohol.  And lots of alcohol.  And Christmas decorations.  And even a dog.  And more alcohol.  And more food.  And friends (family).  

     Thanks to everyone in Pyeongtaek who helped me have an amazing Korean Christmas.

     And thanks to all friends and family back home, who served as a most powerful reminder of just, exactly, why there is no place like home for the holidays, and who I can confidently say I will be returning home to next year for Christmas 2013.  

     Here are a few pictures from the holiday here in Korea.  A Merry Christmas to you and yours.

     Love,
     Sam.








     

December 18, 2012

Korean Food Spotlight: 부대찌개

     It's time for another edition of my slightly-less-than-weekly "Korean food spotlight."  We'll continue with the relatively simple concepts, in this case a giant soup in which the dominant ingredients are hardly traditionally used Korean materials.

     This dish is called 부대찌개, or "budae jjigae" if you prefer (sounds like BOO-DAY-JJEE-GAE).  The translation of this is a little amusing; 부대(budae) refers to a military base, while 찌개(jjigae) refers to any particularly thicker Korean stew.  This can be a little confusing until you hear the story of 부대찌개's inception.

Why eat this?

     No one thoroughly enjoys talking about the U.S. military presence in Korea, foreigners and Koreans alike (it seems), but 부대찌개 is one lasting memory of the United States' military presence in the peninsula.  How can this be?

     The main ingredients are all too familiar to most Americans, and include spam, hot dogs, cheese, beans (baked, kidney), onions, mushrooms, and peppers.  How do they make it into a Korean dish, you ask?  During and after the Korean War (1950-53), Korea's countryside masses turned to foraging for food they could not grow themselves--as one might learn from being here, the heavily bombed landscape that already includes 70% mountains doesn't leave an ideal amount of land on which to grow food.  Thus, people gathered leftovers from U.S. army rations (specifically from bases in and around my particular area, Pyeongtaek, which is loaded with these kids of restaurants), and did what many Koreans choose to do with a bevy of diverse ingredients--stew them in a soup.

What the hell am I looking at?

     The result is all of those sausages, spam, beans, vegetables and cheese, plus, of course, kimchi and pepper paste that we here in the peninsula refer to as 부대찌개.  Here's some visual context:


 In this particular 부대찌개, you can see some sliced spam, hot dogs, cheese,
beef, onions, rice cakes, mushrooms, and...of course, kimchi.

Heat up your portable table stove, and you've got a good 
broth started.  Yet, you're still missing one Korean favorite
that often goes in 부대찌개: ramen.  Throw it in and you're
good to go.  This particular restaurant, in Seoul, provided 
unlimited ramen per table!

In goes the ramen and some further onions, and it's ready to eat within 
minutes.  A nice little boil started, the spicy broth starting to roll...

     Budae jjigae (부대찌개) restaurants don't differ too much; depending on the place and the garden ingredients available, you'll see small variations.  One time I literally saw cans of Bush's Baked Beans (for the 'Merikans) being dumped into the broth, while on another occasion, I was lucky enough to have some freshly cut tofu blocks stewed in.  Here, you'll see some macaroni that I failed to mention:

Even though we're working with largely familiar, American ingredients, you're
still looking at one relatively healthy dish, all things considered.  This is one of
those meals that makes you feel just connected enough to come, but still very
much Korean.

So how does it taste?

     I think the idea of 부대찌개 gives many an instant thought of "well, this is good, but I'm not really eating Korean food, am I?"  The answer, intuitively, is no.  No, you are not eating Korean food.  But when you think back to the reason this is a popular, comforting dish in the first place, and you think about how proud people here are of their food--proud enough that they would keep the ingredients that some folks were allowed to subsist on when their rice fields were burned, cabbage, radishes and other crops were rotten, etc. and still find ways to "Korean-ize" it with their own tofu, kimchi, and spicy ingredients--you're not eating something that feels remotely foreign when you're finished.  Let it be known, this is most certainly still Korean food.

     And, as just about everything else here, it's awesome.  It has that perfect amount of spice and medicinal (the kind in which your nose just clears and clears) effect of warming and giving life and spices to your whole body.  And it's decidedly fun to eat, as all 부대찌개 restaurants differ from each other just a little bit.

     Give it a try!  Thanks for checking out this week's "Korean food spotlight."






December 17, 2012

My Students Aren't Always Cute...But When They Are, I Take Pictures.

     The title pretty much sums up my thoughts as to the general behavior of most of my students this semester.  I know they mean well, I know they're naturally playful, but class can generally be a struggle with 20-25 kids who tune in as quickly as they tune out.  I'm tired of having conversations about Korean education vs. U.S.A. education policy and practice, but I will say this: my kids get away with more than I'd ever like during class time, and I'm surprised my co-teacher isn't as angry about it as I am.

     That being said, here are some pictures of my students doing their thing in their cuter moments, i.e. those in which I'm not shushing them, asking them to stop writing on their desks, and sending them out of the room, to their homeroom and to the principal's office.  I've always said, and sometimes continue to say, that for all the bad days, all it takes is a cute smile or deed or some funny Konglish from a student to make you remember why you do this 40 hours a week.  

     Without further yammering, enjoy some cute 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th graders of Songhwa Elementary:








December 3, 2012

Moving Beyond K-Pop...For Now.

     I admit it.  K-Pop (the lady variety) is some sexy stuff.  K-Pop is also, at times (the dude variety) some androgynous stuff.  For all its powdered and reconstructed faces, catchy beats and moves, and general, seemingly impossible, duality of both sexuality and innocence, K-Pop is simultaneous eye candy and headache.  Those who know me know that I'm only a K-Pop fan to the extent that it drops my jaw, helps relate to my students and other Koreans, and occasionally makes my girlfriend or even my sisters roll their eyes and think "get off it, Sam...enough already."  Those who know me know that I'm as cynical and critical (if not more so) about the industry as I am actively, happily engaged in it.  But that's neither here nor there.

     I've recently come across some other Korean music that I find absolutely groovy; music to which I cannot stop jamming in my apartment at 6:00am or 10:00pm.  The only difference is that this music doesn't blow up on YouTube, sell millions of tickets worldwide, or find its hands tied by singers who desperately try to project any personality they are allowed, and by deep-pocketed executives and record labels who seem to own and control every move, every tweet, every scandal and every cute, posed photo.  Maybe it's not music that's exciting and frustrating me today.  Perhaps I'm just having a bad day.

     Anyway, lately I've been listening to Primary (프라이머리) and Bye Bye Badman (바이바이배드맨)  lately.
     
     And they don't disappoint.  Here's Primary laying down some beats and vibes for his friend Zion T, who (in all fairness to Korean women in music videos, K-Pop or not) sings to a woman as dangerously good looking as any on the scene.  This one's called "Meet."


     How tasty is that song?  Simple, funky as can be, with a full horn section, some sneaky, cooly-spit lyrics and a foxy lady.  

     Here's Primary and some other friends, Zion T included again, laying down some funk that my good friend here in Pyeongtaek, Scott, could only refer to as sounding "like a dead ringer for Jamiroquai."  Nothing wrong with that.  This one's called "See Through."


      Scott had it right on that one.  Again, cool, relatively simple video.  Again, some good looking women and fly clothes I wish I could pull off.  I remember hearing this outside a Pyeongtaek burger joint last Monday thinking all this song makes me want to do is shoot soju and dance for hours.  And if you know anything about me, you know that takes a very specific, very saucy tune.

     Then there are these folks, from whom I've only heard a few tracks: Bye Bye Badman.  I'll have to read up a bit more on them, though that kind of info is hard to find!  All I know is they look like a bunch of kids right out of, or still enrolled in, the baddest, artsiest, fartsiest high school in Seoul.  Just a collection of cool looking kids who use plenty of English lyrics to spice up their garage-band sound.  They even drop a "fuck."  This is called "Low."



     Again, I know little of these folks beyond the fact that they occasionally play at offbeat Hongdae haunts.  Sign me up sometime, though.

     So just to set the record straight, there seems to be plenty more great music coming from this ever-complicated country--at least, for a change, some that transcends the silicone and superficiality of K-Pop's finest.  I hope this kick lasts, and I'll continue to post any solid stuff I find in the near future.  Because I can't resist talking K-Pop for more than, oh, 5 minutes without cueing up a tab full of legs, here's my sign-off.  Until next time.




November 15, 2012

Korean Food Spotlight: 닭갈비

     Thanks for checking out the blog again, folks. I'm not gonna mention a thing about why I haven't blogged for yet another month, especially after my most recent post alluded to the fact that, at the very least, I'd be offering up something on a weekly basis. That effort has also failed, but here I am a month later, begging for your forgiveness and hoping to make your mouth water with this week's installment of "Korean Food Spotlight" (you can visit my most recent food post on cow insides Here. Maybe, as my good friend and former expat in Korea has suggested, I ought to just devote this blog solely to food. That seems like a better and better idea by the day...

     Let's get on with it. What food are we talking about? The name of the game is 닭갈비 (think DAHK with a relatively hard "d" + GAL + BEE).  As I did last time, I'll show you an opening picture that is not mine and ask that you guess what you're looking at before you scroll down any further:

So we're looking at vegetables, a red sauce of some kind, and what is probably 
meat. One thing for sure is that this shit is spicy.

Question #1: What the hell am I looking at?

     Good question. Although, to be fair, this is a little bit more clear than my last offering. 닭갈비 is, contrary to what my offered pronunciation might suggest, has nothing to do with duck and everything to do with chicken. Now, you might think to yourself, "Big deal, Sam. Why waste my time? Chicken is probably the most commonly consumed bird or meat worldwide. Don't waste my time, clown." 

Question #2: Why eat this?

     I offer that what you're seeing in these pictures is something you've never really tried before. It's wildly simple, but just gets better each and every time I eat it. This is chicken, perfectly marinated and caked in spicy pepper sauce. 닭 ("DAHK") more or less referes to "chicken" in Korea, although 치킨 (literally "CHICKEN") works as well--bless Konglish in all its forms. Add vegetables, namely some lettuce for wrapping, some green onions for extra flavor, and some white and sweet onions for relative crunch. Also add some soft rice cakes (which, coincidentally, look like play-dough) that, when one is lucky, might contain some hot cheese. Order a serving or two of it for you and a friend, and it's all brought to your table, ready for you to fry up over an open flame on your table. If you approach the situation confidently enough, in this situation as well as other Korean BBQ situations, the server might even let you, the foreigner, mix it and dish it all up yourself. If not, just kick back and watch the flames grill these already spicy bird chunks.

     Yikes, that last sentence didn't sound the least bit appetizing. Here's another picture to get you back on track:

Here you have your beautiful marinated and grilled to perfection chicken chunks in the foreground,
and rice cakes, onions, and mushrooms (a nice surprise this time around) in the background.

     It only takes minutes to cook, especially as this particular place (in Chuncheon, 춘천, a city that is known for its 닭갈비 and even has a long street featuring restaurants that serve up the big specialty), as they grill it up on giant, separate grills before you finish it off at your table. Just as with any other BBQ item in Korea, you're offered an assortment of sauces and veggies with which to down this spicy beast--we opted for some romaine wraps, a few green onions, garlic (because who are we kidding? we're in Korea...) and some salty 된장 sauce to cool off the spice a bit. Wrap that up and get it in your mouth son. You'll never have anything quite like it, despite how truly simple it is.

On a bed of romaine, a little rice, garlic, and 된장, there she lies. So good.

Question #3: Is it delicious?


     When Sam grins like an idiot...yeah, it's delicious.

Catarina is an absolute pro with this stuff--she wouldn't let me touch the scissors 
or grippers. You can see just how hot these grills make the room--look at those 
rosy red cheeks! Smuggling cherries from the orchard, Cat?

Recap:

     Bottom line: if you're looking for a relatively tame introduction to Korean BBQ that offers up some ingredients with which you might actually be familiar as a westerner, you really can't go wrong with 닭갈비. Spicy, sweet, hot, spicy, healthy (when you add in some veggies), and spicy. Everything I love about Korean food in one dish--rich flavor, fresh ingredients, and general simplicity in materials and preparation.

Coming Up:

     Guess who is coming to Korea? MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! That's right, my Mama is making the trek to the Land of the Morning Calm in just 5 short days! I'd like to get back on track with the blog as long as she's here, so as to document the constant stream of thinking from a foreigner who is only here for 2 short weeks, and not as a temporary expat. I've been waiting to show Korea to my friends and family for 15 months now, and I could not be more proud and excited to do so. Safe travels, Ma, and I'll be seeing you soon!

     Thanks for reading, folks! More coming soon. 안녕히 계세요!

     -Sam Sam


   


October 17, 2012

Korean Food Spotlight: 곱창

Thanks for checking back in on the blog, folks.  I decided, just to give myself some motivation in better documenting life here, and to give you a reason to stay remotely interested, I'll start breaking up the long-winded posts about big weekends and big cultural concepts with a segment called "Korean Food Spotlight."  In my 14 months in Korea, I've learned that, for those who possess a strong stomach like myself, food is truly A) the best way to start asking questions about other cultural things, and B) the easiest, most impressive way to show any Korean that you're halfway interested in their country.

     That being said, let's get on with this week's Korean Food Spotlight: 곱창, or "GOPE-CH-ONG (as in "wrong")."  Let me show you a picture and ask that you think to yourself for about 10 seconds on what this strange food might be:


Mix in a little oil, onion, and potato.  You're thinking...some kind of mystery meat, right?
Question #1: What the hell am I looking at?

     These are insides, my friends.  곱창 (gopchang) translates, quite literally to "giblet."  In gopchang, you're seeing anything from intestine to stomach to kidney.  The two most likely sources of gopchang at any given Korean restaurant are A) pig and B) cow.  I've tried both, but on this particular occasion, cow was the lone option.  I can't indicate much of a preference, but I can testify to cow being much more expensive than pig across the board in Korea.  You see this reflected in prices of other cuts of meat at BBQ restaurants as well, at least in my area.  When you get to Seoul, as we did on this night, prices can really fluctuate.

Question #2: Why eat this?

     Asia never ceases to blow me away in the following way: the parts we, as Westerners (most of us) neglect as being tasteless, useless, and altogether disgusting are the very parts that many Asian cultures, among whom Korea is no exception, seek to use with the most care and creativity.  Of course, fried livestock insides is hardly anyone's idea of culinary genius, but herein lies another line of thinking in Asia, and Korea: these exclusive, often neglected parts, are, counterintuitively, the most special and treasured parts, for that very reason.  I've still never been convinced of this latter concept, but I must say that I admire any culture that seeks to use all parts of an animal.  A packed house of young Koreans eating and drinking can't be wrong:

Though it was prime club time, young people in this particular neighborhood would
rather suck down some cheap liquor and cow liver with friends.  Can't say I disagree.



Gopchang is, if nothing else, enjoyable for the very experience of eating it.  We walked into a bustling restaurant in the 교대 (National University of Education) neighborhood of Seoul, south of the river.  This area is not far away from some of Seoul's hottest nightlife spots, and it was amazing to see so many young people opting to either enjoy something like this before the clubs, after the clubs, or instead of the clubs.  It's not often, at least back home, that you walk into an open-air intestine restaurant at 1:00 a.m. on a Friday night/Saturday morning and grab the last possible table.  But when you do grab that table, you better believe these are the first 2 dishes to make their way to your table:
Again, you might be wondering what you're looking at: on the left, we have some enticing
raw cow liver (소 간), and on the right, we have some interesting looking, albiet absolutely
bland, stomach lining (소 위 내벽).  Best to fry the liver, and just try to stomach the...stomach.

Good to see some greens on the table to cool off all of this talk of meat for the time
being.  Finely chopped and coated with crushed peppers, they sweeten things up a bit.

After raising our voices a few times over the constant chatter around us, Catarina and I flagged down a waitress and ordered plenty of cow insides and soju to make us happy for the next hour.  Within seconds, it seemed, intestines arrived and the waitress began cutting them apart.  Before you have any sudden thoughts about what lies inside, remember that they've certainly been treated and cleaned.  Add a ridiculous amount of oil and vinegar, onions, peppers, and potatoes to aid the frying and smells, and you'd never know what you're about to put in your mouth:

Stupid good.  You know it's finished, according to Catarina and other Koreans, when
it starts to squeak, not only in the pan, but in your teeth (not unlike cheese curds,
my fellow Wisconsin folks!).

Of course, over any late-night meal beyond 12:00 a.m. (or beyond noon, for that matter, it certainly seems on th weekends), one must crack a bottle or ten of soju for the occasion:

I either look like I've had enough or none at all.  Or that I'm
smuggling ping pong balls in my cheeks.  Anyway, there's 
the mandatory bottle of soju.

Catarina's a happy camper, too!  I think she was still a little shocked at how much I 
enjoyed the taste of all this fine mess...

There you have it, folks.  I'm hoping, for those of you in Korea and questioning the adventurousness of your palate, to encourage you to try some of this stuff, if I haven't already!  Believe me, add some great company, a bustling atmosphere, plenty of spicy sauces, oil, and vegetables, a giant frying pan and some soju, and you might get around to trying some ridiculous things.  I'm hoping, for those of you back home or elsewhere, that I can help educate you about some of the stranger, cooler, more delicious foods there are to be had here in Korea.  I'll try anything once, and I believe everyone should!  Thanks for checking out this week's installment of...Korean Food Spotlight!

Thanks, as always, for reading, folks.  Drop me a message or comment on Facebook, and keep checking in for updates.  Lots of love to all of you back home, and lots of love to those of you sharing the Korean experience with me as well.

-Sam Sam

September 23, 2012

Pyeongtaek: My New Home


     Thanks for checking out the blog again, folks!  It's been a while, and having been back in Korea for 3 weeks, I'm ready to get the blog rolling.  Officially flew back on August 29th, after spending just over 20 hours in transit. Hopped in a late-night, hour-long shuttle from the airport to my new city (and yes, the driver even had a card that read "Samuel Hurd" at the airport...always wanted that!) and arrived at my apartment around 10:00 pm.  My co-teacher and her husband, who coincidentally have previously rented this apartment out, were waiting for me at my new home for the next year.  After reviewing some apartment procedures, I proceeded to not sleep for what seemed like days.  Of course, I was asked to report to school immediately the next morning, where I met some of the staff and handled some new paperwork.  Over the next few days, I failed to sleep, but successfully eked out a new work visa, new ID card, and made some new friends.  So began my time in my new city, 평택.

My new city, Pyeongtaek, in all its glory.  This photo was taken from atop AK Plaza, 
which is the catch-all name for the train station and 10-floor shopping center of downtown.

     So what is there to tell you about my new home?  First of all, it's called 평택, pronounced PYEONG (think "p" + "young") TAEK (think somewhere between "tech" and "take").  Pyeongatek, in Korean, translates, more or less, to something flat.  And that holds true; whereas my older home of Hampyeong, like most of Korea, was extremely mountainous, my new home lies on a relatively flat plain with few mountains in sight.  This is a bit of a strange concept in a country comprised 70% of mountains.    

As you can see, the flat plains extend to the very edge of the city.  That's one thing that has 
been very comforting so far: for all the resources and excitement that come with living 
in a larger city, a 5 minute walk lands me right back in the rice fields.

     What else can I tell you?  Pyeongtaek covers quite a bit of ground, bounded by the main highway artery toward Seoul on the east side, to the Yellow Sea on the west side.  In the most recent census, Pyeongtaek was declared home to just under half a million people.  Pyeongtaek consists of 2 "eups" (읍), or towns, 7 "myeons" (면), or villages, and 13 "dongs" (동) or neighborhoods.  I live in the main "eup," which contains the train station as well as downtown, in Hapjeong-dong.  Here's what the Wikipedia  article about Pyeongtaek.  I don't know just who wrote the briefing on Pyeongtaek for that page, but here is the vital information they chose to include:

Pyeongtaek was founded as a union of two districts in 940, during the Goryeo dynasty. It was elevated to city status in 1986, and is home to a South Korean naval base and a large concentration of United States troops. The Korean government plans to transform Pyeongtaek city to an international economic hub to coincide with the move of the United States Forces Korea (USFK) to Pyeongtaek. During the Korean War it was the site of an early battle between US and North Korean forces, the Battle of Pyongtaek.

     As you can probably tell already, Pyeongtaek is predominantly known, in Korean circles, for its military history.  If one travels throughout Korean, and one lists "Hampyeong" (my previous residence) as one's stomping grounds, a look of pure confusion, disgust, or nostalgia emerges on the faces of Koreans.  Sometimes all 3.  If one travels throughout Korea and expresses loyalty to Pyeongtaek, on the other hand, only one question seems to surface immediately.  "Are you a soldier, or a teacher?"  

     Of course, locals here seem to know the difference, as it largely goes without saying--the haircut, the dress code, maybe the Korea savvy, who knows.  Anyway, it was only a concern of mine because, in certain areas of Korea, suffice it to say that United States military personnel don't retain the staunchest support and good will of all.  There are 2 military bases within a stone's throw of Pyeongtaek (Camp Humphreys, southwest of town and Osan Air Base, north of town), though they're pretty well situated in the countryside, such that you don't just see soldiers walking through town...hence the pretty relaxed attitudes of the locals with regard to the matter.  While there are various reasons for that, into which I refuse to delve for now, I remember thinking: well, time to really grow my hair out so as to make that difference crystal clear.

     Where was I?  I was telling you about my new home.  And here is a good place to start:

AK Plaza, which contains 8 tracks of trains that run to nearly every
corner of Korea, as well as 10 floors of coffee shops, restaurants, 
shopping and public space.  It's no mistake that it's the focal point
of the city, and really what put Pyeongtaek on the map in the first place.

     This is AK Plaza, which is more or less the driving force of Pyeongtaek.  Years ago, this city was nothing more than a train station.  In 2012, that train station has been transformed into 10 floors of shopping, eating, movie watching, and just about any kind of entertainment under the sun.  It's a busy place, and a pretty solid walk from my apartment, so I don't venture inside as often as many, but it's nice for its practical uses.



In front of AK Plaza is a large 
public space, where taxis can 
be summoned, buses can be
taken, and traffic flows.  All 
public transportation generally
flows past the train station.  On
the right is a picture of the scene
just outside of AK Plaza.  It's 
about a 25-minute walk due 
straight west of my apartment,
so I more often take a bus or a 
taxi.  Public transportation in 
Pyeongtaek, as well as most
parts of Korea, largely rocks.


Here's one more broad look at the city, from the "Sky Garden" (스카이가덴) atop the 10th floor of AK Plaza:
This gives you a good feel for what the city architecture looks like.  Although 
dominated by concrete like any other Korean city, there are some cool structures
of glass that shake things up a bit, and countless, similar looking apartments 
farther away from the downtown area.  As a relatively new city with lots of new
wealth, Pyeongtaek actually doesn't maintain a lot of old, traditional architecture.

     The next practical part of Pyeongtaek I should definitely show you is Tongbok Market, or 통복시장.  I'm not positive on the total area of Tongbok, but let's just say you can find anything you need.  I've probably exhausted many of you with pictures of stomach-churning and mouth-watering (sometimes at the same time!) food from Korean markets, so here's a look at just one of Tongbok's countless long wind tunnels of market vendors:

Fresh fish, fresh vegetables, and plenty of household products.  Everything
you would want from a Korean market, and plenty of things you wouldn't.  
I say this every time I walk into a Korean market, and it really rings true: 
for as shy as Koreans can be about speaking to a foreigner in public whatsoever,
they are incredibly keen to chirp incessantly if they see you so much as bat 
an eye at their collection of fermented fish or bean paste.

     Tongbok is only about a 10 minute walk from AK Plaza, and the area between is littered with great restaurants serving up old, cheap Korean classics, from dumplings to hangover soup (I can explain those in a later post).  I only opted to buy some green onions for a stew, but they were, of course, of the hulk variety--alas, I could not find enough uses for green onions in 3-4 days' time.  Tongbok Market is open 7 days a week, as far as I'm concerned.  Some of the personnel even opt to sleep the afternoon or evening away inside these vending stalls when pedestrian traffic is low.  

The sun is setting on Tongbok Market.  Here's a look at one of Pyeongtaek's
many busy intersections, from inside the market.  Food tents and fresh fish
make it a pretty inviting place.

     While there is plenty happening in Pyeongtaek that is worth discussing, the downtown area around the train station and market really dominates the "things to see and do" conversation.  So I believe it's time to show you where I really live.

     Like any big Korean city, Pyeongtaek maintains pockets of large, downtown areas as well as quieter residential areas of small, old houses and high-rise apartments.  I'm somewhere in between, in a neighborhood that offers a good balance of apartments and houses, without any giant skyscrapers obstructing views and blocking good sunlight.  As one walks due east of the train station, Pyeongtaek gets quieter and quieter.  About 2 kilometers later, my neighborhood comes into view.

Leaving the downtown area for quieter streets.

A prototypical street in my neighborhood.  This photo was 
taken at dusk, just after some torrential rains.  The end of
summer is a pretty tumultuous time, weather wise, in Korea.
It was difficult to find much favorable weather in which to 
photograph my new home.  You can see some apartments 
and neon signs indicating karaoke halls, restaurants, grocery 
stores, and pubs.

     My neighborhood is relatively standard, as far as Korea-scape goes.  A few small grocery stores, convenient stores, karaoke halls, and plenty of restaurants.  It consists mostly of older couples and young Koreans who generally call Pyeongtaek home whilst studying or working elsewhere.  As far as I know, there are no other foreign teachers within about a 6-block radius, and that has made for some surprising conversations with the locals thus far.  Nice, quiet people in this nice, quiet neighborhood.

Here's a view of my street from atop my apartment.

     I'll tell you this: housing in Korea, whether you live in a palace of an apartment or a crumbling house that is centuries old in tradition (still plenty of these, though found more often in places like last year's haunt of Hampyeong), is often not pretty.  Concrete architecture dominates, and a certain uniformity and simplicity in design prevails.  However, in Korean maybe more so than any other place I've been, looks aren't everything, and there is certainly more than meets the eye.  Here, for your viewing pleasure, is my apartment complex...the Hapjeong Art Billa.

See?  Nothing to really write home about--though, ironically, I am currently doing
just that.  I'm on the 2nd floor, right in the middle; if you squint your eyes, you might
see my backpacking gear.  As far as I can tell, I'm the only person who actually lives 
here throughout the week.  I think most residents are in and out, depending on the 
day, week, month, or even year.  One thing that is a little charming is the view I get
immediately outside my window, that of a small garden maintained by this friendly 
dude.  Some tomatoes, peppers, corn, and pumpkins as far as I can tell!  This little 
garden space separates my apartment from one of Pyeongtaek's many west-east 
routes, but things stay pretty quiet throughout the day.

Here's the view from the rooftop, looking down on the garden patch and the main
street.  Just in this 20-meter stretch of road and patch of street view, 4 restaurants 
are housed.  And that, my friends, is one of the small beauties of Korea: anywhere
you may be, there is surely good food within just steps.

     So those are the vitals on Pyeongtaek--surely enough to get you started on imagining life here.  I'll save a later post for some introductory pictures and explanations of both my apartment and my school.  I apologize for the lag in updates, but for my friends and family, that should be nothing new.  I always vow to improve this, and I will keep doing so.  Maybe there's just more to do here, and that necessitates more blogging.  Maybe once you've lived here for a year, you feel the need to dig into things that don't just include enticing food pics and old temples.  That stuff is still pretty cool, though.

     I'll leave you with a parting shot from my rooftop, looking west toward the setting sun and downtown Pyeongtaek just after a storm last week.  All is well for now.  Thanks so much for reading about my new home, and be sure to keep checking back for more stuff.  

     안녕히계세요!