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 a 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.

     

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."

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:

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.