Today is Korea's Liberation Day, a celebration of Japan's surrender at the end of World War II and Korea's resulting independence. Flags are displayed all over and it's a public holiday (hence my writing this instead of teaching).
The next big holiday coming up is Chuseok, equivalent to the U.S. Thanksgiving. For Chuseok, we will have four days off from work (Monday through Thursday) and of course the proceeding weekend, so we will be leaving Ilsan for a while. We'd hoped to go with Mark and some of his co-workers to Beijing, but the tour we were interested in is already full and most plane tickets at this point (before we even have our first paycheck) are prohibitively expensive. So, our next plan of action is to attempt to book flights to Jeju, South Korea's most tropical area - an island off the southern coast of the peninsula. Known as Korea's "Hawaii", it is a famous destination for Korean newlyweds and Japanese businessmen, so booking seats during such a busy time may be difficult, but we'll see what happens. :-)
On a completely unrelated note, let's talk about food. Of course, this is mostly to reassure the worried Californian mothers that we are in fact getting our nutrients and daily vitamins, but it may be interesting to others as well...
Although it is entirely affordable to eat out (and well!) for every meal, we prefer to make our own food. However, it would NOT be affordable to go to the grocery store and buy steaks, western pasta sauces, and ice cream. So it's a good thing that we aren't interested in that sort of a dinner. Instead, we're trying to adapt to a sort-of Korean style of eating, with a reasonable budget and my forays into cooking without a stove... this is what we've come up with: salmon steak cooked in soy sauce, rice vinegar, garlic, pepper and olive oil with white rice; watermelon; various kim chi dishes; fermented yellow radish; a spicy squid tentacle side dish, and soju. On the note of soju, it is not like sake. It's more like vodka. And we bought a crappy version, apparently. Either way, we're not terribly fond of it.
So that's about it. The salmon is interchangeable with pan-cooked marinated tofu and other types of fish. The fish here is amazingly fresh - in a supermarket they have tanks of live fish -cuttlefish, crabs as large as our torsos, and a basic silvery-fish (no clue about the name) in a simulated stream... Plus you can buy any and all parts of the fish here - it's good that we're not squeamish. In fact, we would have happily bought a whole squid, but it was so much cheaper to get a different type of fish that we didn't. Maybe next time. But it's entirely possible to feed both of us with a main course of fish that costs less than $3 total - amazing. Chris and Mona - you should be happy to know that the beef is absurdly expensive in comparison and, since Korea's now importing beef from the U.S. (oops), we aren't going to bother. Oh, and in the way that we can buy cheap top ramen in the States, they sell fresh udon noodles that are pre-packaged with spices. Add some veggies or fish and voila, amazing dinner.
Also, we're becoming steadily more accustomed to teaching - we've now taught for two weeks, know most of our students by name, and are not nearly as tired at the end of the day as we were when we started. Despite one or two problem students apiece, we're enjoying teaching a lot, and are discovering new techniques and games for the kids each day. In fact, we're to the point that it only takes about an hour or two to prepare for all our classes, paperwork is now a simple matter finished in a few minutes, and we have time and energy at night not only to cook and eat dinner, but also to walk around Ilsan and see where we live.
So there it is - updates on the past week and a half. The only other story of note is an interesting wake-up call that I received last Saturday. Exhausted from the week, Jay and I were trying to sleep in when the doorbell rang. Granted, it was about 10:30 in the morning and not an unreasonable time to visit, but we were very confused because rather than the typical "ding-dong" chime, the doorbell plays a video-game style mini-song. Assuming it was someone related to the school who had come to fix our air-conditioner (that currently empties water into a large bucket, which must be emptied on a daily basis), I went to the door-phone and responded in English, "hello?". No answer, so I fixed the nest of hair on my head into a reasonable door-answering state, and went to open the door. Two women were walking up the stairs, but hurried down excitedly when I opened the door and started speaking rapidly in Korean. I mumbled that I didn't understand Korean... English? they asked. Yes, English. So the younger woman, who was dressed in what almost looked like a cross between traditional Korean dress and the attire of the American pilgrims, rifled through a miniature book and handed me a page in English. I skimmed from the first line "Even though you and I don't speak the same language...." to halfway down the page "message of God. Jehovah's..." and then shook my head quickly and handed the book back to her, closing the door as she said something that sounded strongly like "sorry".
I was awoken by a Jehovah's witness. For the first time in my life. ...in Korea. I don't quite know how to deal with that, but Lindsay, a Canadian teacher at our school, said that it's actually quite common. What did I miss when researching Korea? I mean, I know that it's supposed to be a huge notch in the Christian missionaries' belts, but door-to-door proselytizing? I wasn't expecting that. And it would have to be in the Christian fashion too. I mean, it wouldn't bother me to leave for school and have some monk chilling out on the stairs and meditating meaningfully, but do you have to ring the doorbell? Is waking me up and pointing a book at me really going to make me think "oh, you're right! How have I been so wrong? Sign me up for this redemption business!" ? I think not.
