Long post will be long.
Day 17
One sentence summary: Most awkward translating experience ever.
In the morning I translated for an adoptee-foster mother reunion. That reunion went well - everyone was happy to see each other, both parties were polite and pleasant, the foster mother and the adoptee both thanked me affectionately, they gave me a few pieces of Danish chocolate-covered almonds - and I felt happy knowing that I did some good to some people in the world.
The next translation appointment, however, was difficult.
The workers at Holt repeatedly told us to be careful with what to translate and what not to, as cultural differences and general lack of tact can cause people to say some potentially offensive or difficult things that could hurt feelings.
I could write for hours explaining exactly when went down, but given time constraints and privacy issues (and everyone's attention span), I have made it into list form. Here is the collection of "What NOT to say when you meet your long-lost children after decades".
1. Do not repeatedly express your frustration that you and your child (who has lived his/her life as a foreign citizen) have a language barrier. Of course you have a language barrier.
2. Do not nitpick about your child's religion (or lack thereof) and repeatedly say that he/she should be going to the (Protestant) church and believe in Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.
3. Do not be nosy and ask whether your child prefers Asian women or white women, and then comment that you think *country censored for privacy* has the best-looking ladies.
4. Do not ask repeatedly when your child is going to be married.
5. Do not repeatedly comment that your child is fat, and that the child should lose weight, and worry that the jewelry you got for him/her won't fit because he/she's too fat, and comment again that he/she's too fat. Do not, ESPECIALLY, speculate that he/she is fat because he/she had *issues censored for privacy*.
(That last part, oh my god. It was so offensive and heartless. How can people just SAY that and not realize that is such a horrible thing to say?!)
6. Do not play the blame game of who "abandoned" your child. Bottom line is, he/she was sent away regardless.
7. Do not attribute your child's talents and interests by citing dubious statistics, such as saying that children take after 70% of their mother's intelligence.
8. If you have a complicated family history, do not talk about things that could potentially hurt the child's feelings - actually, don't even talk about it amongst yourselves because I can't translate it, and the child kind of feels left alone in the dark when I cannot tell him/her what those long conversations are about becuase it's a sensitive matter.
So yes, it was the most awkward translating experience I ever had, and I shall refrain from saying anything further about it on the blog other than this list. It does make me realize what a tricky business translating is, and how much influence they wield in a situation when they choose to translate the other person's words at all, and what words they use when they do so.
Day 18:
One sentence summary: YJS has acupuncture.
Strictly speaking, I have not been all that well during my stay in Korea. I wasn't physically sick, but my skin and hair had been in horrible condition since the end of June, among other issues. It was clear that SOMETHING in me was off, even if it wasn't evident.
So before heading out to Coex Mall, we visited an Oriental medicine clinic near my aunt's place.
I have never went to an Oriental medicine clinic before - it smelled of the strong, but not entirely unpleasant scent of traditional herbal medicine.
The doctor took my pulse, asked about my symptoms as well as asking general health-related questions. He also pressed at my abdomen with his fingers to see where it hurt more. (the left side hurt more)
A while later, he came to the conclusion that I am naturally born with unstable flow of hormones and whatnot in my body (which appears to be hereditary, as my mother confirmed she is like that as well), and when it gets suceptible to excessive amounts of stress that my body cannot handle, it becomes even more unstable, which is causing all these problems as of now.
He also said that I have an "explosive" trait (hence my left abdomen hurt more when probed), meaning that I would blow up when I am very upset (which is true), but that I have not been properly getting rid of the stress due to my introverted personality.
Basically, the diagnosis was that stress was fucking me up.
(Yes, yes it has. But could it be that I am stressed to the point that my own body is turning against me? Clearly I need better coping mechanisms!)
I was prescribed some medicine which I'll take for the next three months (whee, I get to show you guys in Ann Arbor what it looks like, I guess) and meanwhile, they were going to give me some acupuncture to relieve the current problems I was having.
Because the left side of my body was affected, they put needles on my right hand, arm, abdomen, and leg.
Acupuncture didn't hurt all that much, actually. There was the initial sting when the needles go in your body, but it really just feels like being pricked by a needle, then a bit of dull, numb pain as if, you know, someone poked a needle in your body. To summarize, it wasn't all that bad.
They did something interesting with the needles on my abdomen, though - the nurse brought a machine with a bunch of dials and wires, and connected the wires to the needles on my abdomen. The machine, I assume, sent electricity through the wires (to the sound of the regular ticking of the machine). It felt as if my stomach was pulsating, like I had the heart located near my stomach instead of my chest. That was not a sensation that I expected my abdomen would ever feel.
So to sum it all up, the trip to the Oriental medicine clinic was an interesting experience. I know the whole thing with acupuncture and herbal medicine may seem shady to some, but personally, I feel that it isn't some huge fraud - it still persists even in modern times for a reason. I see it more as Eastern medicine and Western medicine picking up the same problems in the human body in different ways, kind of like two art students drawing a still life of the same apple, except one is painting it and the other is drawing with pencil. The pencil drawings are more line-detailed and paint has color, but in the end, they're still drawing the same apple. Each branch of medicine has different focus points and approaches, but in the end they still pinpoint and solve the same bodily ailments.
Day 19 (which was today) and onwards will move to the next post, as I need to sleep. Good night everyone!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Korea Day 14, 16 (REVISED)
Day 14
Good news: the ongoing rain has stopped. Bad news: it's hot as hell. Oh dear god it's hot.
My skin feels like it's burning out in the sun.
But that's not the point of this entry; my brother and I went out to Gangnam to have dinner with our two cousins (from my dad's side).
For those who do not know, Gangnam is basically one of the richest sectors in Seoul, making it one of the richest sector in all of South Korea.
Gangnam is the area for the rich and privileged, and it shows; the streets were big, the buildings were expensive and shiny, the abundance of flourescent lights blinded out the dark night, and even the signs on the subway station were big and fancy and new (and even written in BIG BOLD ENGLISH)
Even the people looked a little different there; men were more fashionable, women were pretty and slim (and fashionable), and there were a much higher white person percentage than other parts of Seoul and its suburbs I've been thus far.
Dinner with the cousins went pretty well. We went to a meat place, and among the five of us we shared ten portions of pork, along with soju and beer. It was very much a meat-intense dinner. I think I've increased my alcohol tolerance a bit by drinking two glasses of beer-soju mix shot and not collapsing to the ground (my brother drank eight and was still alive, amazingly.)
Afterwards, we stopped by a nearby bakery chain and ordered shaved ice to wake up a little from the alcohol, and chatted some more.
It was pretty nice chatting with them - the age gap truly does not matter once you hit your late teens or enter into your twenties.
It's also scary thinking how much time had passed - it really seems like yesterday since my brother and I were in elementary school playing with the younger cousins during the holidays while the older ones talked about college and part-time work, being all old and important. THE TIME. WHERE IS IT GOING.
And it was when my brother and I were teetering down the street, still a bit tipsy from the alcohol, moving among hundreds of young souls in the middle of Gangnam that I thought, you know, this is what othercool Korean kids around our age usually do when they visit Korea in the summer - go clubbing and shopping at the hottest places in Korea, hang out with people and drink, drink, drink, . And people have to actually tell us to come out of the house for us to get our asses out of the house to go drink and be fancy. Man, we really have no life.
Day 16
Today, I translated for a family from Norway.
The family had adopted three children, and they were going to meet each of their foster mothers. Although there were complications with the logistics (accidents, time delays, one foster mother unable to be reached, etc), the translation process went smoothly enough and everyone seemed reasonably satisfied.
The family gave each foster mother a photo album compiled with photos from Norway, and man, Norway looks beautiful. The photos of the mountains and lakes make instant postcard material. Put Norway on the list of places to visit before I die.
Around noon, the family and one of the foster mothers went to a nearby restaurant (as instructed by Holt) for lunch. It was apparently the restuarant where many foreigners who had business with the adoption center stopped by to eat.
Usually I have not experienced unpleasantry in terms of service in Korea - there may have been slightly unsatisfactory instances or culturally different, but none of them have been reprehensible. However, I cannot say the same for this restaurant; their excuse of "cultural tolerance" is slightly disparaging and even kind of offensive if you think about it.
When we sat down at the table, we found that the menu was entirely in Korean. Since there were a number of items, I pondered on how to translate and explain the food to the family. The restaurant staff urged me to make a decision quickly.
"But the menu is in Korean, I should at least ask what they want and then order-"
"The foreigners don't like the other stuff since it's spicy. Just order pork ribs and get it over with, they usually eat that," they said.
Jeez, what if people want to try new things? Some people might not like meat all that much. I translate, explain, and summarize the menu, and the family decided upon their own choice that they wanted pork ribs.
Usually, an order of meat is accompanied with a (free) bowl of rice. However, when we got our meat order, only the Norwegian family got rice while the foster mother and I had none.
"Um, there are two bowls of rice missing," I said.
"I know, I gave the foreigners rice and the two of you will get Naengmyeon as a side. The foreigners don't really like Naengmyeon, but you two are Koreans, so you're okay with that, right?"
I'm Korean, and actually, I'm not too crazy about Naengmyeon. Furthermore, I was not in the mood to have an entire bowl of noodles on top of meat, at all. I try to get a bowl of rice again.
"You'll get naengmyeon," a curt reply came back.
The foster mother was fine with having naengmyeon, but I wasn't; I declined my order and just ended up having pork and vegetables, no carbohydrates.
It may be lunchtime, it may be busy, it may be hot and annoying. But somehow I don't think that warrants them to just assume everything and try to decide dishes for people without asking.
Besides, isn't it awfully presumptuous to think "If you're Korean you'll eat this", "If you're not Korean, you'll avoid this and eat this instead"? Okay, maybe affluent white people aren't used to spicy food compared to Koreans in general. Maybe they like eating pork ribs over everything else in general. That doesn't mean everyone does.
Additional thoughts, comments, and everything else thus far:
Napkin tissues in Korean restaurants are thin, almost like toilet paper. Somehow I have a feeling that this is derived from the fact that in the past (when the concept of napkin tissues were novel and you just needed to wipe stuff up), people did use toilet paper, which was a point of culture shock (and horror) to many foreigners. At least they have seperate (albeit thin) tissue for napkin use now?
Department store employees in Korea are well-trained; perhaps up to a creepy point. Especially in cosmetic stores, the staff follow you around and watch your every move, ready to recommend this and that, which unnerves me. I want to look around without people looking over my shoulder! Aaaaah please leave me alone.
I've said this before, but I can't help but realize how heteronormative Korean society is. Advertisements for wedding halls talk about celebration for brides and grooms, women learn makeup skills to "capture the hearts of men", men are obviously thought to be simple creatures who only think about girls, girls, girls (and sex). Yes, they are media portrayals, and yes, other places in the world do this too, but I'm just pointing out observations here. I think I might have gotten too used to the "Political correctedness ASSUME NOTHING" atmosphere of U S of A (I know not all of USA is like this, but still) but then again, Korea isn't that much of an ethnic (or cultural) hodgepodge. Still...
The way Korean society as a whole label ethnic Korean foreigners is an issue I am most curious about, and one that Korean people discuss a lot as well. By large, it seems a tad hypocritical; when they've done something great (sports stars, political stars, entertainers who made it big, etc), they're quick to call them "ONE OF US" and pride on the prowess of Koreans and expect the celebrities to touch upon their Korean ancestry, even though they're not Korean citizens anymore. On the other hand, there are people who are all too quick to shun ethnic Korean foreigners as "others" who can never be Koreans, because the foreign citizens (or their parents) are "traitors" who left the country to live the good life on the land of milk and honey (usually White People Land such as Europe or USA/Canada), and would never know all the plight and suffering and triumph of the Koreans and can never truly be Korean. It's not as bad as it was in the past, but the remnants of "us vs. them" and "one of us when it suits us" business is still there. My personal opinion is that "they are not one of us unless they want to be", but it seems that this is not as evident as it seems. The criticism towards this weird inclusion/exclusion game is something Koreans themselves are aware of and often criticize, but it never ceases to frustrate me whenever it happens. Leave them alone if they don't consider themselves Koreans, and don't shoo away those who actually want to be Koreans.
On a similar note, I know it is awfully presumptuous and extremely hypocritical of me, but I just cannot help but do a double take whenever I come across the occasional white guy/Korean girl pair when I'm in Korea. I've never judged any of them in the States, but I am actively trying to stop myself from judging them halfway across the world. Perhaps it's the geographical context: most Koreans living in Korea aren't all that excellent in English, most white people in Korea are usually English teachers or American GI's, and while there are good, respectable English teachers and GI's out there, there are indeed a good number of "ethnocentric pothead fucktards" around to give every other white person a bad name. Additionally, even with globalization and all, the social circles of the two groups are not likely to coincide with each other unless the Korean party is rich and privileged. Given all that, I can't help but assume and become judgemental, which bugs the hell out of me.LOL HYPOCRITE
To lighten up the mood, Korean bakeries are awesome and they have pretty cake designs and tasty menus and interesting concoctions of Western pastry. Watch me melt into a puddle of glee whenever I go in one of them.
I like all the cute and fluffy things Korea has to offer. Everyone in the world needs more cute and fluffy things.
Good news: the ongoing rain has stopped. Bad news: it's hot as hell. Oh dear god it's hot.
My skin feels like it's burning out in the sun.
But that's not the point of this entry; my brother and I went out to Gangnam to have dinner with our two cousins (from my dad's side).
For those who do not know, Gangnam is basically one of the richest sectors in Seoul, making it one of the richest sector in all of South Korea.
Gangnam is the area for the rich and privileged, and it shows; the streets were big, the buildings were expensive and shiny, the abundance of flourescent lights blinded out the dark night, and even the signs on the subway station were big and fancy and new (and even written in BIG BOLD ENGLISH)
Even the people looked a little different there; men were more fashionable, women were pretty and slim (and fashionable), and there were a much higher white person percentage than other parts of Seoul and its suburbs I've been thus far.
Dinner with the cousins went pretty well. We went to a meat place, and among the five of us we shared ten portions of pork, along with soju and beer. It was very much a meat-intense dinner. I think I've increased my alcohol tolerance a bit by drinking two glasses of beer-soju mix shot and not collapsing to the ground (my brother drank eight and was still alive, amazingly.)
Afterwards, we stopped by a nearby bakery chain and ordered shaved ice to wake up a little from the alcohol, and chatted some more.
It was pretty nice chatting with them - the age gap truly does not matter once you hit your late teens or enter into your twenties.
It's also scary thinking how much time had passed - it really seems like yesterday since my brother and I were in elementary school playing with the younger cousins during the holidays while the older ones talked about college and part-time work, being all old and important. THE TIME. WHERE IS IT GOING.
And it was when my brother and I were teetering down the street, still a bit tipsy from the alcohol, moving among hundreds of young souls in the middle of Gangnam that I thought, you know, this is what other
Day 16
Today, I translated for a family from Norway.
The family had adopted three children, and they were going to meet each of their foster mothers. Although there were complications with the logistics (accidents, time delays, one foster mother unable to be reached, etc), the translation process went smoothly enough and everyone seemed reasonably satisfied.
The family gave each foster mother a photo album compiled with photos from Norway, and man, Norway looks beautiful. The photos of the mountains and lakes make instant postcard material. Put Norway on the list of places to visit before I die.
Around noon, the family and one of the foster mothers went to a nearby restaurant (as instructed by Holt) for lunch. It was apparently the restuarant where many foreigners who had business with the adoption center stopped by to eat.
Usually I have not experienced unpleasantry in terms of service in Korea - there may have been slightly unsatisfactory instances or culturally different, but none of them have been reprehensible. However, I cannot say the same for this restaurant; their excuse of "cultural tolerance" is slightly disparaging and even kind of offensive if you think about it.
When we sat down at the table, we found that the menu was entirely in Korean. Since there were a number of items, I pondered on how to translate and explain the food to the family. The restaurant staff urged me to make a decision quickly.
"But the menu is in Korean, I should at least ask what they want and then order-"
"The foreigners don't like the other stuff since it's spicy. Just order pork ribs and get it over with, they usually eat that," they said.
Jeez, what if people want to try new things? Some people might not like meat all that much. I translate, explain, and summarize the menu, and the family decided upon their own choice that they wanted pork ribs.
Usually, an order of meat is accompanied with a (free) bowl of rice. However, when we got our meat order, only the Norwegian family got rice while the foster mother and I had none.
"Um, there are two bowls of rice missing," I said.
"I know, I gave the foreigners rice and the two of you will get Naengmyeon as a side. The foreigners don't really like Naengmyeon, but you two are Koreans, so you're okay with that, right?"
Pictured above: cultural segregation?
I'm Korean, and actually, I'm not too crazy about Naengmyeon. Furthermore, I was not in the mood to have an entire bowl of noodles on top of meat, at all. I try to get a bowl of rice again.
"You'll get naengmyeon," a curt reply came back.
The foster mother was fine with having naengmyeon, but I wasn't; I declined my order and just ended up having pork and vegetables, no carbohydrates.
It may be lunchtime, it may be busy, it may be hot and annoying. But somehow I don't think that warrants them to just assume everything and try to decide dishes for people without asking.
Besides, isn't it awfully presumptuous to think "If you're Korean you'll eat this", "If you're not Korean, you'll avoid this and eat this instead"? Okay, maybe affluent white people aren't used to spicy food compared to Koreans in general. Maybe they like eating pork ribs over everything else in general. That doesn't mean everyone does.
Additional thoughts, comments, and everything else thus far:
Napkin tissues in Korean restaurants are thin, almost like toilet paper. Somehow I have a feeling that this is derived from the fact that in the past (when the concept of napkin tissues were novel and you just needed to wipe stuff up), people did use toilet paper, which was a point of culture shock (and horror) to many foreigners. At least they have seperate (albeit thin) tissue for napkin use now?
Department store employees in Korea are well-trained; perhaps up to a creepy point. Especially in cosmetic stores, the staff follow you around and watch your every move, ready to recommend this and that, which unnerves me. I want to look around without people looking over my shoulder! Aaaaah please leave me alone.
I've said this before, but I can't help but realize how heteronormative Korean society is. Advertisements for wedding halls talk about celebration for brides and grooms, women learn makeup skills to "capture the hearts of men", men are obviously thought to be simple creatures who only think about girls, girls, girls (and sex). Yes, they are media portrayals, and yes, other places in the world do this too, but I'm just pointing out observations here. I think I might have gotten too used to the "Political correctedness ASSUME NOTHING" atmosphere of U S of A (I know not all of USA is like this, but still) but then again, Korea isn't that much of an ethnic (or cultural) hodgepodge. Still...
The way Korean society as a whole label ethnic Korean foreigners is an issue I am most curious about, and one that Korean people discuss a lot as well. By large, it seems a tad hypocritical; when they've done something great (sports stars, political stars, entertainers who made it big, etc), they're quick to call them "ONE OF US" and pride on the prowess of Koreans and expect the celebrities to touch upon their Korean ancestry, even though they're not Korean citizens anymore. On the other hand, there are people who are all too quick to shun ethnic Korean foreigners as "others" who can never be Koreans, because the foreign citizens (or their parents) are "traitors" who left the country to live the good life on the land of milk and honey (usually White People Land such as Europe or USA/Canada), and would never know all the plight and suffering and triumph of the Koreans and can never truly be Korean. It's not as bad as it was in the past, but the remnants of "us vs. them" and "one of us when it suits us" business is still there. My personal opinion is that "they are not one of us unless they want to be", but it seems that this is not as evident as it seems. The criticism towards this weird inclusion/exclusion game is something Koreans themselves are aware of and often criticize, but it never ceases to frustrate me whenever it happens. Leave them alone if they don't consider themselves Koreans, and don't shoo away those who actually want to be Koreans.
On a similar note, I know it is awfully presumptuous and extremely hypocritical of me, but I just cannot help but do a double take whenever I come across the occasional white guy/Korean girl pair when I'm in Korea. I've never judged any of them in the States, but I am actively trying to stop myself from judging them halfway across the world. Perhaps it's the geographical context: most Koreans living in Korea aren't all that excellent in English, most white people in Korea are usually English teachers or American GI's, and while there are good, respectable English teachers and GI's out there, there are indeed a good number of "ethnocentric pothead fucktards" around to give every other white person a bad name. Additionally, even with globalization and all, the social circles of the two groups are not likely to coincide with each other unless the Korean party is rich and privileged. Given all that, I can't help but assume and become judgemental, which bugs the hell out of me.
To lighten up the mood, Korean bakeries are awesome and they have pretty cake designs and tasty menus and interesting concoctions of Western pastry. Watch me melt into a puddle of glee whenever I go in one of them.
I like all the cute and fluffy things Korea has to offer. Everyone in the world needs more cute and fluffy things.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Korea Day 10, 12, 13
Day 10
We've worked three days in a row, and the remaining free day we walked a distance to our other grandmother's neighborhood so that my brother can get his identification card and also get answers for his impending military draft. Incidentally, there has been a string of military shootings and suicides stemmed from abuse in the military all across the country. This probably makes the already undesirable prospect of going to the military even scarier.
Stayed with grandma and uncle for a few hours once again, ate lots of sweet food. My extended family's love for sweet food and the family history of diabetes are totally not related at all; nope, totally not seeing the BIG RED SIGNS OF OBVIOUS here.
This probably means I need to cut back on my sugar before it's too late.
Day 12
It's my mom's birthday.
It was also the weekend, and we were all pooped from running errands every single day during the week, so we slept in for a much-needed rest.
There isn't much to say other than we celebrated mom's birthday with cake, had lots and lots of food, and chilled.
Day 13
Birthday celebration extension.
For lunch we went to Vips, a family restaurant chain of sorts. The food was just as delicious as it had been last year, save for one crucial and disappointing fact: the mangoes are not as tasty as last year's. I swear they must have changed where they import the mangoes. Also, they had gotten rid of the clam chowder soup, which I thought was the best soup out of their selection. Ah well, I was there to eat, not to be a food critic.
For dinner we all had bits of Korean-style ramen, since being Koreans, we needed our hot and spicy food quota to quell our insides after a large portion of salad and steak and soup and what have you.
We ate a shitton of food for the second day in a row. At this point, I would not be surprised if my blog entries end up becoming a sort of food blog. And I need to watch my weight.
Just when we thought we would not be touching food again for the day, who comes back home but my uncle, who bought ice cream cake in celebration of my mom's birthday; and also, he just wanted to have some beer and snacks since it was a Sunday.
My aunt is horrible at organizing her fridge and it is almost at the point of bursting with months-old food, or what probably used to be food. This meant that there was no place to put the ice cream cake in the fridge, so we had to eat it, at 11PM. Alcohol party commence~
(No, I did not get drunk, as much as drunk blogging would have been hilarious.)
And now, another round of general situations and some thoughts to consider:
The rainy season is FINALLY over. Thank god. Now people can walk about the streets dry. The bad news is that the hot weather is back - and now I truly feel the Korean summer heat in all its humid sticky hotness.
Going to the military in Korea now apparently takes as much research and effort as it would to get into a prestigious high school. So much has changed and there are information that you wouldn't easily get unless you called the MMA.
Whenever I walk the streets with my glasses on, people automatically think I am a high school girl. My mom tells me it's because I look young, but I reckon it has more to do with how girls dress in Korea - simply put, almost no (unmarried) females older than high school students walk around wearing glasses unless it was a fashion statement. Most college-age girls are also not fat, and they actually primp and prettify themselves intensely since it's just about the first time they're allowed to do that after the hellish high school years, not to mention Korea is probably an appearance-conscious society like many Asian countries.
Continuing with the appearance-conscious society thing, being in Korea does make me take care of my appearance more compared to when I'm in Prague or Ann Arbor. Most everyone dresses nicely and they're all so pretty and polished-looking; simply put, my desire to not be the one slob among the crowd becomes greater than my general apathy towards style and "looking pretty".
This is something I've noticed for years, but the way my immediate family and several extended family members speak is a little... different from how other Korean people will speak. I'm a little hesitant to say there is a difference in "accent" because it's not a problem of dialect or vocabulary usage. It's more of a difference in intonation, perhaps, or how one uses one's nose and mouth in conjunction to the speaking. Simply put, most Korean girls, to me, sound a little nasally with a hint of a whine when they speak, like they're simultaneously swallowing bursts of air. The Korean guys, on the other hand, have a certain aggressive urgency in their voices, as if they're exhaling their words out violently before the words are fully formed. Meanwhile, me, my brother, mother, and a few people on both sides of my family speak more like news anchors on TV - every syllable and its pronunciations even in breath.
Now I must bed, for this household is a family of early bedtimes.
We've worked three days in a row, and the remaining free day we walked a distance to our other grandmother's neighborhood so that my brother can get his identification card and also get answers for his impending military draft. Incidentally, there has been a string of military shootings and suicides stemmed from abuse in the military all across the country. This probably makes the already undesirable prospect of going to the military even scarier.
Stayed with grandma and uncle for a few hours once again, ate lots of sweet food. My extended family's love for sweet food and the family history of diabetes are totally not related at all; nope, totally not seeing the BIG RED SIGNS OF OBVIOUS here.
Day 12
It's my mom's birthday.
It was also the weekend, and we were all pooped from running errands every single day during the week, so we slept in for a much-needed rest.
There isn't much to say other than we celebrated mom's birthday with cake, had lots and lots of food, and chilled.
Day 13
Birthday celebration extension.
For lunch we went to Vips, a family restaurant chain of sorts. The food was just as delicious as it had been last year, save for one crucial and disappointing fact: the mangoes are not as tasty as last year's. I swear they must have changed where they import the mangoes. Also, they had gotten rid of the clam chowder soup, which I thought was the best soup out of their selection. Ah well, I was there to eat, not to be a food critic.
For dinner we all had bits of Korean-style ramen, since being Koreans, we needed our hot and spicy food quota to quell our insides after a large portion of salad and steak and soup and what have you.
We ate a shitton of food for the second day in a row. At this point, I would not be surprised if my blog entries end up becoming a sort of food blog. And I need to watch my weight.
Just when we thought we would not be touching food again for the day, who comes back home but my uncle, who bought ice cream cake in celebration of my mom's birthday; and also, he just wanted to have some beer and snacks since it was a Sunday.
My aunt is horrible at organizing her fridge and it is almost at the point of bursting with months-old food, or what probably used to be food. This meant that there was no place to put the ice cream cake in the fridge, so we had to eat it, at 11PM. Alcohol party commence~
(No, I did not get drunk, as much as drunk blogging would have been hilarious.)
And now, another round of general situations and some thoughts to consider:
The rainy season is FINALLY over. Thank god. Now people can walk about the streets dry. The bad news is that the hot weather is back - and now I truly feel the Korean summer heat in all its humid sticky hotness.
Going to the military in Korea now apparently takes as much research and effort as it would to get into a prestigious high school. So much has changed and there are information that you wouldn't easily get unless you called the MMA.
Whenever I walk the streets with my glasses on, people automatically think I am a high school girl. My mom tells me it's because I look young, but I reckon it has more to do with how girls dress in Korea - simply put, almost no (unmarried) females older than high school students walk around wearing glasses unless it was a fashion statement. Most college-age girls are also not fat, and they actually primp and prettify themselves intensely since it's just about the first time they're allowed to do that after the hellish high school years, not to mention Korea is probably an appearance-conscious society like many Asian countries.
Continuing with the appearance-conscious society thing, being in Korea does make me take care of my appearance more compared to when I'm in Prague or Ann Arbor. Most everyone dresses nicely and they're all so pretty and polished-looking; simply put, my desire to not be the one slob among the crowd becomes greater than my general apathy towards style and "looking pretty".
This is something I've noticed for years, but the way my immediate family and several extended family members speak is a little... different from how other Korean people will speak. I'm a little hesitant to say there is a difference in "accent" because it's not a problem of dialect or vocabulary usage. It's more of a difference in intonation, perhaps, or how one uses one's nose and mouth in conjunction to the speaking. Simply put, most Korean girls, to me, sound a little nasally with a hint of a whine when they speak, like they're simultaneously swallowing bursts of air. The Korean guys, on the other hand, have a certain aggressive urgency in their voices, as if they're exhaling their words out violently before the words are fully formed. Meanwhile, me, my brother, mother, and a few people on both sides of my family speak more like news anchors on TV - every syllable and its pronunciations even in breath.
Now I must bed, for this household is a family of early bedtimes.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Korea Day 8 and 9
Day 8
In which I translate a foster family-adoptee reunion.
The adoptee came with his parents from Denmark, and was quite lean and tall for a high school student. I would have described his face as plain on a good day, but he dressed very well and carried himself with a mature, graceful air that made him quite charming overall. I wish I could learn how to do that.
(All the while I kept thinking that Robert and Andrew would be all over his fashion sense)
Miss Yoonjoo (the not-me) called me over and said, "Younjoo (me), could you take them to the baby room downstairs and give them a tour, maybe play with the babies?"
Babies?
Oh god, I don't know what to do with babies; I never baby-sat (read: watch DVDs and occupy their attention span until dad's company function came back from grown-up socializing) anyone younger than walking, talking kids. I know I'm not going to take care of them or anything, but what do I do with them? I'm not particularly crazy about babies oh god-
As usual, I was worrying too much, and I just ended up translating and answering the familiy's questions, and we stayed there for a while d'awwing at the babies wobbling, playing, drinking milk and crawling. The guy would also have spent some time being taken care of by his foster mother like that, before he went to Denmark. Fortunately, he seemed to take it okay and even played with some of the babies.
The reunion with the foster family also went without much hassle. I translated their conversations back and forth and added some light chitchat in an attempt to make things not awkward. I realize I am really bad at trying to lighten up the mood and be all cheerful in any sort of social situation; my brain knows what to do but my mouth is too scared to act it out.
Later, they had dinner at a nearby restaurant, where we ate mandu, jeolgol, and makgeolli, a traditional rice wine.
It was the very first time that I tried makgeolli - and I liked it quite a bit. The consistency seems thick at first sight, but it's actually quite smooth, like soy milk or almond milk. The fermentation made it have a fizzy sensation like soda, and it tasted tangy and vaguely rice-like. The alcohol content wasn't all that high - I'm guessing it's probably similar to that of hard cider or light beer. I could see myself drinking more of this in the future.
Day 9
No translation, but we still had to do minor office work while everyone else was at the opening for Summer Camp. Paperwork and more paperwork ahoy.
Because nothing much worth of interesting blogging happened today, I decided that this would be a good opportunity to write down the impressions of Korea thus far.
The Positives:
1. MMM FOOD.
2. The overall atmosphere of Korea is 'exciting' - the urban areas, especially, seems to be constantly in anticipation of something exciting waiting to happen round the corner. This may only be me, though.
3. Relatives, and having no language barrier.
4. Public transit is actually decent and accessible, even with the occasional bus and subway hell.
5. TV is a lot of fun.
6. Things are cute and shiny and very distracting.
7. Everything is very modern and computerized.
8. I never realized this before, but Korean people seem to like to have things sweet as much as they like things spicy (not at the same time, though). I am fine with this.
The Negatives
1. You can see all the shortcomings of your own country very clearly when you haven't lived there in a while and see things from an objective POV.
2. The economy isn't doing well, and prices have hiked up on everything. It wasn't as if Korea's overall price rate was cheap to begin with. Sigh.
3. The overall mood - while it is exciting and energetic, too much energy can be tiring when all you want is to relax and chill. Again, this may only be me.
4. The requisite small-scale dramalings that comes with meeting relatives.
5. Everything is very modern and computerized - but at the same time, it shows no patience for "outdated" things - be it cell phones, subway tickets, or fashion trends. It basically forces everyone to follow "the hot new thing" and leaves basically no options for the old-fashioned people, both figuratively and literally.
6. Bus and subway hell is kind of unpleasant when it's hot out. Eww sticky people sandwich.
7. Sometimes the sugar level on some food is a bit much, especially on things like bread or coffee.
This is all for now; if there are more things I feel writing about, I shall add them in the future.
Meanwhile, having a sort of dual-culture brain made me see the things I considered normal to be potentially jarring and even shocking for others. Sometimes even I stopped to think, "wait, but why is this so?" at things that is taken as very normal and natural in Korea, no questions asked. From the trivial to the serious, here is a brief summary of such thoughts. (Yes, this is an abridged version.):
1. Some restaurants require you to take off your shoes at the entrance, and you leave your shoes there. The restaurant is not responsible for any potential shoe loss. No worries: everyone knows that wearing other people's shoes are icky. So unless you were wearing designer shoes worth someone's monthly salary or somebody who has the same shoes as you made a mistake, you do not need to worry about your shoes.
2. The bus drivers drive like crazy. I wish there was some effective way that it could get less crazy, but right now all I can think is, "deal with it".
3. Foreigners in Korea are still something you end up staring quite a bit at. Even I was staring at the occasional foreigners who were walking down the street. Yeah, yeah, globalization, whatever, but this is a largely monoethnic country and anyone not East Asian really stands out. Believe me, I feel like a gigantic hypocrite for thinking, "Foreigner!" - I've been on the receiving end of the "foreigner!" reaction most of my life. And yet I still do a double take when a non-Korean is around.
4. Personal space is kind of nonexistent. While walking back to the office with the foster family yesterday, the foster mother talked to me linking her arm in mine. We met for the first time that day. I personally don't mind this at all and am used to it, but I expect some non-Koreans may freak out.
5. Guys can be more intimate and touchy without the "GHEEEEY" stigma.
6. Society as a whole still seems to believe men and women are different creatures - not just biologically, but in terms of expected gender roles, discrimination, reverse-discrimination and the like. Battle of the sexes are kind of facepalm-inducing here.
7. Sadly, gay rights are kind of in text only and many people (even some political liberals) do not take it well even now. I have, however, seen several comedy acts lightly poking fun at homosexuality now. Gay as comedic factor might not be the best thing to have in media, but it's still refreshing to know that the public has taken the stick slightly out of their collective ass, even if only a centimeter. It's still nowhere near gay-friendly, though.
8. I never liked the whole "acting cute" thing in girls to begin with, but not having lived in Korea made me hate it even more. Feiqi, Ruixiao, remember when I laughed evilly at your reactions (read: screaming and flailing around) when you heard that actress interview of The Red Cliff? I heard this girl talk with that similar sort of cutesy voice and I had the impulse to punch a total stranger. I UNDERSTAND NOW, GUYS. I UNDERSTAND.
9. Did the quality of TV media deteriorate?
...and et cetera.
Long post is long. Whew.
In which I translate a foster family-adoptee reunion.
The adoptee came with his parents from Denmark, and was quite lean and tall for a high school student. I would have described his face as plain on a good day, but he dressed very well and carried himself with a mature, graceful air that made him quite charming overall. I wish I could learn how to do that.
Miss Yoonjoo (the not-me) called me over and said, "Younjoo (me), could you take them to the baby room downstairs and give them a tour, maybe play with the babies?"
Babies?
Oh god, I don't know what to do with babies; I never baby-sat (read: watch DVDs and occupy their attention span until dad's company function came back from grown-up socializing) anyone younger than walking, talking kids. I know I'm not going to take care of them or anything, but what do I do with them? I'm not particularly crazy about babies oh god-
As usual, I was worrying too much, and I just ended up translating and answering the familiy's questions, and we stayed there for a while d'awwing at the babies wobbling, playing, drinking milk and crawling. The guy would also have spent some time being taken care of by his foster mother like that, before he went to Denmark. Fortunately, he seemed to take it okay and even played with some of the babies.
The reunion with the foster family also went without much hassle. I translated their conversations back and forth and added some light chitchat in an attempt to make things not awkward. I realize I am really bad at trying to lighten up the mood and be all cheerful in any sort of social situation; my brain knows what to do but my mouth is too scared to act it out.
Later, they had dinner at a nearby restaurant, where we ate mandu, jeolgol, and makgeolli, a traditional rice wine.
Something like this, except it had beef instead of seafood.
It was the very first time that I tried makgeolli - and I liked it quite a bit. The consistency seems thick at first sight, but it's actually quite smooth, like soy milk or almond milk. The fermentation made it have a fizzy sensation like soda, and it tasted tangy and vaguely rice-like. The alcohol content wasn't all that high - I'm guessing it's probably similar to that of hard cider or light beer. I could see myself drinking more of this in the future.
Verdict: Delicious rice wine.
Day 9
No translation, but we still had to do minor office work while everyone else was at the opening for Summer Camp. Paperwork and more paperwork ahoy.
Because nothing much worth of interesting blogging happened today, I decided that this would be a good opportunity to write down the impressions of Korea thus far.
The Positives:
1. MMM FOOD.
2. The overall atmosphere of Korea is 'exciting' - the urban areas, especially, seems to be constantly in anticipation of something exciting waiting to happen round the corner. This may only be me, though.
3. Relatives, and having no language barrier.
4. Public transit is actually decent and accessible, even with the occasional bus and subway hell.
5. TV is a lot of fun.
6. Things are cute and shiny and very distracting.
7. Everything is very modern and computerized.
8. I never realized this before, but Korean people seem to like to have things sweet as much as they like things spicy (not at the same time, though). I am fine with this.
The Negatives
1. You can see all the shortcomings of your own country very clearly when you haven't lived there in a while and see things from an objective POV.
2. The economy isn't doing well, and prices have hiked up on everything. It wasn't as if Korea's overall price rate was cheap to begin with. Sigh.
3. The overall mood - while it is exciting and energetic, too much energy can be tiring when all you want is to relax and chill. Again, this may only be me.
4. The requisite small-scale dramalings that comes with meeting relatives.
5. Everything is very modern and computerized - but at the same time, it shows no patience for "outdated" things - be it cell phones, subway tickets, or fashion trends. It basically forces everyone to follow "the hot new thing" and leaves basically no options for the old-fashioned people, both figuratively and literally.
6. Bus and subway hell is kind of unpleasant when it's hot out. Eww sticky people sandwich.
7. Sometimes the sugar level on some food is a bit much, especially on things like bread or coffee.
This is all for now; if there are more things I feel writing about, I shall add them in the future.
Meanwhile, having a sort of dual-culture brain made me see the things I considered normal to be potentially jarring and even shocking for others. Sometimes even I stopped to think, "wait, but why is this so?" at things that is taken as very normal and natural in Korea, no questions asked. From the trivial to the serious, here is a brief summary of such thoughts. (Yes, this is an abridged version.):
1. Some restaurants require you to take off your shoes at the entrance, and you leave your shoes there. The restaurant is not responsible for any potential shoe loss. No worries: everyone knows that wearing other people's shoes are icky. So unless you were wearing designer shoes worth someone's monthly salary or somebody who has the same shoes as you made a mistake, you do not need to worry about your shoes.
2. The bus drivers drive like crazy. I wish there was some effective way that it could get less crazy, but right now all I can think is, "deal with it".
3. Foreigners in Korea are still something you end up staring quite a bit at. Even I was staring at the occasional foreigners who were walking down the street. Yeah, yeah, globalization, whatever, but this is a largely monoethnic country and anyone not East Asian really stands out. Believe me, I feel like a gigantic hypocrite for thinking, "Foreigner!" - I've been on the receiving end of the "foreigner!" reaction most of my life. And yet I still do a double take when a non-Korean is around.
4. Personal space is kind of nonexistent. While walking back to the office with the foster family yesterday, the foster mother talked to me linking her arm in mine. We met for the first time that day. I personally don't mind this at all and am used to it, but I expect some non-Koreans may freak out.
5. Guys can be more intimate and touchy without the "GHEEEEY" stigma.
6. Society as a whole still seems to believe men and women are different creatures - not just biologically, but in terms of expected gender roles, discrimination, reverse-discrimination and the like. Battle of the sexes are kind of facepalm-inducing here.
7. Sadly, gay rights are kind of in text only and many people (even some political liberals) do not take it well even now. I have, however, seen several comedy acts lightly poking fun at homosexuality now. Gay as comedic factor might not be the best thing to have in media, but it's still refreshing to know that the public has taken the stick slightly out of their collective ass, even if only a centimeter. It's still nowhere near gay-friendly, though.
8. I never liked the whole "acting cute" thing in girls to begin with, but not having lived in Korea made me hate it even more. Feiqi, Ruixiao, remember when I laughed evilly at your reactions (read: screaming and flailing around) when you heard that actress interview of The Red Cliff? I heard this girl talk with that similar sort of cutesy voice and I had the impulse to punch a total stranger. I UNDERSTAND NOW, GUYS. I UNDERSTAND.
9. Did the quality of TV media deteriorate?
...and et cetera.
Long post is long. Whew.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Korea Day 7
Holt:
It's raining nonstop. It's been raining all week since we arrived.
The southern parts of Korea is flooded, even.
Can we please, please stop with the rain?
That being said, my brother and I still went to our second day of work. Somehow, we were asked to come at 11AM instead of the usual 1PM. I hoped that commuting just slightly after rush hour would make the bus and metro less crowded, but no such luck. Seoul has way too many humans for public transit to be empty between 9:30~10:40 AM.
We translated stuff, yadda yadda yadda. I'm sure it'll be boring if I keep on bringing up the fact that we're translating, so I'll keep it short. It was a few days before the adoptee summer camp, so the staff were busy sorting things and preparing for the opening ceremony.
As a result, we were often stopped at the middle of white-collar work (translating) in order to carry out blue-collar work (such as cutting paper and pasting them, sorting pens and notepads into goodie bags, counting the number of bags, putting stickers on name tags, rolling up banners, folding pamphlets, counting them...) - and when we got through that, there were more stuff waiting to be translated. Because you know, FREE LABOR!
I'm not complaining here - we came here to help, and we're giving help. I just wonder how the staff get through it all when there isn't any extra people around. They seem all out of breath and perpetually panicking even with two translators and part-menial laborers.
At least we got free lunch out of this.
Siblings bicker and talk about nerdy things:
Summary: I currently watch an animated series called Tiger and Bunny. My brother teases me about it. I tell him bits and pieces of the show to try tobrainwash get him to watch the series with me. He just ends up teasing me more.
"So why is the guy called Bunny?"
"Because his helmet has pointy ends at the side of his head like rabbit ears. So the
partner calls him 'bunny-chan'."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"Oh my god, stop that, that is creepy."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"Stop it."
"Why?"
"The way you say it makes me fear for my life."
"Why would you fear for your life? I'm just saying it funny."
"It's not funny, it's creepy."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"It just makes me wanna say, 'Gaaah, run away, Bunny!'"
"It does not sound creepy. Here, I'll say this in the same voice; Younjoo is an idiooooot."
"That's not creepy, that's just annoying."
"It's the same voice."
"Well, that's not creepy because it's something you always say. When you say 'Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan', it sounds like you're going to rape him."
"What, no."
"Yes, that's what it sounds like."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"..."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"..."
"Did you give up now?"
"No, I'm just exhasperated."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"...Argh."
"Hahahahaha."
"Are you going to keep on teasing me?"
"Yes, because you freak out and it's funny."
"Does this mean you'll watch the show?"
"No."
"Why not? It's fun. Let's go home and watch the first few episodes."
"No."
"Watch, watch, waaaatch."
"I don't want to. I already know how it is because you told me everything. Why should I watch it when I can tease you about it from the sidelines?"
"So you're going to tease me without ever having watched the show?"
"Yes, it's more entertaining that way."
"Waaaaach the shoooooow!"
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"Sigh."
It's raining nonstop. It's been raining all week since we arrived.
The southern parts of Korea is flooded, even.
Can we please, please stop with the rain?
That being said, my brother and I still went to our second day of work. Somehow, we were asked to come at 11AM instead of the usual 1PM. I hoped that commuting just slightly after rush hour would make the bus and metro less crowded, but no such luck. Seoul has way too many humans for public transit to be empty between 9:30~10:40 AM.
We translated stuff, yadda yadda yadda. I'm sure it'll be boring if I keep on bringing up the fact that we're translating, so I'll keep it short. It was a few days before the adoptee summer camp, so the staff were busy sorting things and preparing for the opening ceremony.
As a result, we were often stopped at the middle of white-collar work (translating) in order to carry out blue-collar work (such as cutting paper and pasting them, sorting pens and notepads into goodie bags, counting the number of bags, putting stickers on name tags, rolling up banners, folding pamphlets, counting them...) - and when we got through that, there were more stuff waiting to be translated. Because you know, FREE LABOR!
I'm not complaining here - we came here to help, and we're giving help. I just wonder how the staff get through it all when there isn't any extra people around. They seem all out of breath and perpetually panicking even with two translators and part-menial laborers.
At least we got free lunch out of this.
Siblings bicker and talk about nerdy things:
Summary: I currently watch an animated series called Tiger and Bunny. My brother teases me about it. I tell him bits and pieces of the show to try to
"So why is the guy called Bunny?"
"Because his helmet has pointy ends at the side of his head like rabbit ears. So the
partner calls him 'bunny-chan'."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"Oh my god, stop that, that is creepy."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"Stop it."
"Why?"
"The way you say it makes me fear for my life."
"Why would you fear for your life? I'm just saying it funny."
"It's not funny, it's creepy."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"It just makes me wanna say, 'Gaaah, run away, Bunny!'"
"It does not sound creepy. Here, I'll say this in the same voice; Younjoo is an idiooooot."
"That's not creepy, that's just annoying."
"It's the same voice."
"Well, that's not creepy because it's something you always say. When you say 'Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan', it sounds like you're going to rape him."
"What, no."
"Yes, that's what it sounds like."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"..."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"..."
"Did you give up now?"
"No, I'm just exhasperated."
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"...Argh."
"Hahahahaha."
"Are you going to keep on teasing me?"
"Yes, because you freak out and it's funny."
"Does this mean you'll watch the show?"
"No."
"Why not? It's fun. Let's go home and watch the first few episodes."
"No."
"Watch, watch, waaaatch."
"I don't want to. I already know how it is because you told me everything. Why should I watch it when I can tease you about it from the sidelines?"
"So you're going to tease me without ever having watched the show?"
"Yes, it's more entertaining that way."
"Waaaaach the shoooooow!"
"Buuuuuuunny chaaaaaaaan."
"Sigh."
Korea Day 3, 4, 5
Day 3
The entire day could be summarized as thus – YJS eats.
It was truly a day of eating, and I now worry that I would leave Korea with a distended digestive system and newly acquired rolls of fat by the end of the month.
For lunch, my mom, aunt, grandmother, cousin, and brother went to a Gamjatang restaurant for lunch. My brother and grandmother had spicy squid while the rest of us ordered Bbyeo-haejang-guk (for the easily intimidated by strange jumbles of letters, it means bone hangover-relief soup). It’s a spicy soup with chunks of pork neck bones inside. It was quite delicious, and a good lunch choice in the cold, rainy weather. It was exceedingly spicy, however, and by the end of lunch, everyone was sweating profusely.
After taking a break, my mom and brother, my cousin and I went to E-Mart for some serious grocery shopping spree, since my mom was going to be in charge of meals during our one-month stay.
The great thing about (large) Korean supermarket is that they have a sample section for food. Yes, I know other countries have sample stands for food as well; call me biased, but the stuff they have for samples are tastier.
The food selection that day certainly was in the tasty side: grilled fish, pork, beef patties, roasted duck, tofu with sesame and peanut salad dressing, ice cream, yogurt, and there’s probably more that I’ve forgotten by the time I write this. Since we were in charge of babysitting our little cousin, who was as energetic as a beagle, we followed him all around the food aisle as he raced up and down and tried everything. By the end of the grocery shopping, I’m sure I could just have substituted what I ate with an actual meal.
Day 4
The first day of work at Holt. This time, my brother was there as well. We took the 90-minute trip to Holt Post Adoption Center.
The office was crazy busy as always; workers running to and fro, phones ringing every five minutes, the endless clickedy-click of computers and the whirring of fax and printers.
Everyone seemed the same. Philippe with his French-accented Korean, the Michigan alum Esther with her constant English-Korean code-switching, Ms. Lee, Ms. Seol, and the head of office, Ms. Kim. There are also one or two new faces that I do not know.
There was a warm welcome, and then a pile of letters to translate. “We’d ask you to come every day if we could!” they said. We could have, if it didn’t take us a whopping 90 minutes to get to the office via bus and subway. We’re here to work, yes, but we do need a life, too.
In the span of four hours (and an hour total of bathroom breaks, mini-breaks, and waiting for the staff to not be too busy to give us work), My brother ended up translating four letters and I did ten. This roughly amounts to half an hour per letter.
“You’re a monster! How did you do that?!” he exclaimed.
I’m not quite sure myself; somehow a month’s worth of experience last year had apparently made me into an almost automatic translating machine. Even I was surprised at how fast I was processing Korean to English and vice versa. Well, that’s the first time I've felt competent in months.
Day 5
We went to Times Square shopping mall.
Stealing a landmark name of NYC aside, the main reason we went there was because it was a new shopping mall; the go-to place for shopping and hanging out is supposed to be Coex Mall in Seoul, but not only is it too far from where we are, but apparently Times Square was supposed to be just as grand and fancy.
To get straight to the point, it was big and fancy, but it wasn't as awesome.
We played at the arcade, ate lunch, and I went window-shopping (and actual shopping) with my mom while the boys played in the arcade some more.
Fun meter: 3/5. It’s a good place to go shopping and eat something in-between, but there is nothing much else to do. Additionally the place was too goddamned hard to locate from the subway station since the signs were unreliable and the passageway convoluted.
It's raining on and on and on and god dammit, it needs to stop.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Korea Day 1&2
The plane flight to Korea was relatively peaceful; the plane had good food (bibimbap and green tea porridge, yeah!), mediocre movie selections, great documentary sections, and a packet of toothbrush, toothpaste, and slippers to use in the plane, which I very gladly made of use.
The good news was that the weather was not as hot when we arrived. Since it was the middle of rainy season and had been raining nonstop, the few sunny days ended up being in the lower to mid 20s, despite the humidity. Hey, I’m fine with less sweat running down my entire body.
Unfortunately, that’s about the only thing I can say about the first day. After an early dinner and family reunion, my mom, brother and I promptly fell asleep and stayed that way until the next morning.
Day 2:
Since the main objective was to translate and work at the Holt Children’s Center, we took our 90-minute commute once more to adjust working hours.
Recognition, enthusiastic welcome, and more enthusiastic welcome. I was surprised that they remembered me from last year and was all happy that I came back to work again. I know I’m supposed to be working for the good of the community, but goddamn it, I think I’ll recharge my ego meter while I’m here.
After settling schedules, we headed to my (paternal) grandmother and uncle’s house, where we stayed for dinner and chatted and all that general merriment. Well, as merry as grownups in a conservative and formal household engaging in general merriment can be.
My grandmother and uncle, as usual, tried to offer us plenty of sweet food, including watermelon, wafers, yogurt and ice cream (which we politely declined). I swear, I am going to develop diabetes from all the food they offer us.
My grandmother and uncle, as usual, tried to offer us plenty of sweet food, including watermelon, wafers, yogurt and ice cream (which we politely declined). I swear, I am going to develop diabetes from all the food they offer us.
Korea is currently enthralled (read: batshit insane) with having Pyeongchang as the host for the 2018 Winter Olympics, whose results would be announced in about half an hour from the time I am typing this. This entire day all three official television channels have been having “special programs” about Pyeongchang, with guest star performances, street interviews, uplifting speeches and patriotic comments full of “Pyeongchang, Hwaiting!” “Korea, Hwaiting!”. Cue BGM of We are the Champions. Did I mention that this is the third time they’ve tried to host the Winter Olympics?
Seriously, with all the special broadcast and news articles and cheery hopefulness, you’d think they already were nominated as the host city. The cynic in me only wonders what they’d do with themselves if Pyeongchang doesn’t make it. After all, they’re competing against contenders such as Munich and Annecy. Can’t they wait for festivities after they know who’s hosting the Olympics?
I love my country, but I swear to god they can get overboard with enthusiasm sometimes. It’s like how a daughter cringes over her lovable but goofy dad who is cheering way too loud at a tournament and is telling everyone in that loud, obnoxious voice that his little girl is sure to win first place because she’s awesome like that, and he even has the drinks ready to celebrate her obvious victory.
Meanwhile, behind the backlight of my laptop in the dark, dark house (everyone is tired and went to bed), we (or physically, just me) all wait with bated breath.
Oh man, the IOC is going to announce the winner now.
And the host for the 2018 Winter Olympics is…
…Pyeongchang.
Oh hey, we did win. After twelve freaking years of trying to host it. Well, good. Now Korea can finally drop the “trying to host the Winter Olympics for the third freaking time” thing. I know I should probably sound happier or more patriotic, but alas, I am a cynic to the end; all I’m thinking is “Fucking finally, we can get this over with”.
I am glad, though. Asia can use more Winter Olympics, after all. And there is something kind of poignant and touching about trying and trying, and trying again without giving up to finally achieve one’s goal.
Good night, everybody!
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