Foreign Ways and Holidays

Well our work Christmas dinner turned into a late-nighter. We went to a new restaurant around the corner from school, a short walk that was enough to ice over all of our extremities. We had sam-gyup-sal, which is a kind of pork that is grilled right in front of you. Scissors are a normal cooking utensil and are left on the table for patrons to do it themselves with these large slabs of meat. My co-workers were all indulging in one of the common shots of celebration: soju. It’s really terrible stuff that tastes like rubbing alcohol smells. My friend Amy swears that the day after she drinks it, her immune system is down and she feels sick. With this in mind, I decided that the gunk still periodically coming up from my lungs with a hefty cough was reason enough not to invest any sips. However, a few of the others at the table disagreed and even told me, “I hate when people don’t drink” because in Korea, it’s considered rude for anyone not to participate. I just responded, “I hate when I’m forced” because in America, you don’t do what you don’t want to do. And sick people almost always have the right of way. We reached a compromise. I kept my glass full to discourage anyone from pouring me anymore, and would fake a sip if someone showed any signs of irritation at my refusal to drink. And when they were busy tilting their head back with their own shot, the level of my onion soup would magically increase.

As if this dinner event wasn’t enough, 1030pm was entirely too early for everyone else to call it quits. Mr Lee decided we needed to revisit Hotel Nostalgia. I thought surely he had to be kidding, but I was out of luck when he started piling everyone into taxis to head over to the karaoke room. I couldn’t help but think of the song, “Every party has a pooper that’s why we invited YOU!” when I was being caravanned over to yet another place that wasn’t my warm bed at home with the possibility of recuperation. Against my will and several attempts at insistence that I wasn’t fit to use my lungs, I was forced to sing. Thus, I thought a Christina Aguilera number would relinquish any further obligations or requests for me to entertain the group. I’m sure they didn’t understand all the lyrics, but they got the idea.

Christmas Eve here was spent with Amy, Sally, and her co-worker Clinton. We had roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, salad, a little too much wine, and cheesecake. We played Yahtzee and hung out, telling stories and jokes. The next day, we went to What The Book (a book exchange and store), got massages (my back was bruised green!!!), had dinner and just a relaxing day all-around. It was uneventful, but nice. It didn’t feel like Christmas in the city, despite several cab drivers and store owners going through the motions to wish the whities their greetings. But it was still nice to have friends who appreciated what it was all about for all of us.

As far as the weather goes here, it has been ice cold for several weeks. Snow began the first weekend of December and has periodically continued. Cold weather in Louisiana means keeping a sweater in your car. Cold weather here means you wear an undershirt, long johns, another shirt, a sweater, and a coat, on top of which you have a hat, ear warmers, a scarf, gloves, and the rest of the nine yards. I was discussing the bulk of winter attire with my Assistant Director and she noted that she hadn’t yet started wearing long johns under her jeans. I’m sure the look on my face was sheer terror. I’ve worn them for WEEKS! This is going to be a long winter.

Seoul is the fifth largest city in the world. The larger the city, the more pollution it tends to have. People here recycle to the nth degree, but there’s one thing they can’t particularly control and it’s dust. There’s an absurd amount of it here. I dust weekly and come up with loads of it! I even dust my walls on a regular basis with a wet cloth. I’ve cleaned the baseboards since I’ve been here more than once, I wipe down my table and countertops daily. And I don’t just push it around with feathers, I take a wet cloth and pick it all up. But still, my hairbrush that sits in my bathroom collects a layer that would make my hair look like a 90 year old if I didn’t clean it before running it through. It’s really impressive, especially considering that since it’s gotten colder, I don’t open my window.

I went to see my second movie since my tour here began: The Chronicles of Narnia. It’s the cinematic version of C.S. Lewis’ “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” Not a bad movie, but what is most noteworthy about it is the audience. If I get shocked during a movie, I don’t really show outward signs of it. The chick on the side of me and the one behind Amy were both extremely dramatic at every point in the film that could’ve been remotely considered a cliffhanger or a surprise. The girl next to me would gasp loudly, cover her eyes, make squeamish faces, jump, wail—the works. I can’t imagine this is even slightly enjoyable for her date—I would personally take it as a sign that she’s a drama queen and promptly end any involvement with her. But he didn’t seem to be bothered by it, so I’ll chalk it up to cultural differences.

Next week begins what my school calls winter intensives. We will be at school for 12 hours, 9 of it spent teaching. Instead of kicking up their heels and catching up on missed sit-com episodes and movies like American kids do, Koreans see it as an opportunity for more studying. Thus, they enroll in classes in their weaker or favorite subjects, some even traveling overseas for camps promising to enrich their lives and brains. My Wednesday/Saturday class was combined with my Monday/Friday class, so for the next two months (and hopefully longer), I will have a four day week rather than six. This is exciting! My brain gets a rest, my body gets recharged, and my interest in exploring more of the city is furthered. Woohoo!

Speaking of exploring the city, it looks as though New Year’s Eve will be spent with several friends at the center of the city. Apparently the celebration includes some sort of ringing of bells for the countdown to the New Year. I’m not sure about all of the details, but I know it’ll be cold, hard to find a taxi if the subway system isn’t open longer than midnight, and neat to check out what another culture and large city does for the changing of the year.


Copyright 2005 Olivia R. Reed