South Korea

7 Things About Korea: Comforts from Home

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The door closes behind my new boss and I’m left standing alone inside a sparsely furnished apartment. I clutch a bottle of water in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other, and the only sounds to keep me company are the humming of an empty fridge and the sounds of traffic that I will learn to accept as a permanent background drone.

My bed, a Queen sized mattress on the floor, faces a television that assaults my senses with loudly shouted Korean and obnoxiously sweet jingles. There are no subtitles to explain to me what it is I’m seeing. I take my meager supply of food into the kitchen, barely more than a wardrobe, and examine the motley collection of plastic bowls and second hand utensils I’ve been left with.

My apartment looks as if it were furnished from a thrift store. I later find out that it was actually furnished with things picked up from the side of the road on trash pick-up day. It’s cold and grey outside and I am thousands of miles from home without a computer or a phone. I sit down on my bed and I cry. I’ve never felt so alone in my life.

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My first few days in Korea were amongst the most emotionally draining in my life. Granted, I’d not lead a particularly challenging or action-packed life up to that point, but I think most people will agree that moving abroad for the first time is a challenging prospect. Doubly so when you don’t speak the language or know anything about the culture.

My first Korean apartment. Notice the two fans. What fan death?

It’s a reality that many people who take an ESL teaching role in Korea won’t understand the language and might not know a great deal about South Korea. With the exception of having fast internet and having co-hosted a World Cup, Korea isn’t exactly a country on the global map – regardless of how much they might argue to the contrary. This lack of knowledge is a double edged sword. On the one hand it means you don’t come in with any expectations, but on the other hand it leaves you sadly adrift when you first arrive on the peninsula. It’s a garishly lit, loud, smelly, and often intimidating place that looks and feels very little like the country we left behind.

That changes, obviously. I wouldn’t have spent two and a half years of my life in Korea if it were a place without its charms. I’ve discussed some of these charms in my previous articles about Korean food and Korean festival culture. But this entry is about the comforts from home that make that early introduction into Korean life just a little easier. So, without further ado…

Food

As I mentioned when discussing Korean food, you’re not left without familiar faces entirely. McDonalds, Burger King, Dominos, Cold Stone, Baskin Robbins, 7/11, Pizza Hut, Krispy Kreme, and Dunkin Donuts have saturated the market in South Korea to the point that it’s hard to go more than a few hundred meters without seeing one or more of them. For the most part these places are much as you’d remember them from home, with a few quirky touches (Bulgogi Burgers at McDonalds, red bean paste donuts at Dunkin Donuts etc) that make them distinctly Korean.

Likewise, shopping isn’t without tastes of home. Hershey’s chocolate is an ever present option (sadly, Cadbury’s is far harder to find) and the universally known Coca Cola products are readily available. I swear to God, we’ll encounter alien life one day and their first reaction will be surprise that we too have Coke.

Korea isn’t a third world country. You’re not going to struggle to find essentials such as beauty products, toiletries, medicine, or anything like that. You might have to settle for a makeup with in built whitening agents (Korean women are obsessed with appearing white) or your bread being sweeter than you’d like, but don’t for a second think you’re going to be eating handfuls of rice and drinking goats milk to get by. This is an Asian country with a rapidly growing Western feel to it.

While it’s true that big chain supermarkets like Home Plus, eMart, and Lotte Mart do stock a great selection of foods – their Western food sections are usually quite smile. You’ll find tortillas and lunch meat at these big stores, but if you’re after cheese or your favorite soup from home, you’re going to have to find a foreigner market. The most well known of these is the Foreigner Market in Itaewon in Seoul – but I’ve always had a soft spot for the Underground Grocer in Gwangju. I might be a tad biased though, since my friend Michael is the founder of both the market and its attached Western restaurant – the First Alleyway.

Foreigner markets don’t offer a huge selection by any stretch, but you’d be a hard man or woman to please if you couldn’t find a little something to put a smile on your face. Their prices are going to be higher than you’d pay at home – but after a few months of eating plastic American cheese, you’ll gladly shell out 10,000 won for a block of Colby Jack. Trust me.

Another good option is Costco, which has a number of stores in South Korea. The cost of membership (35,000 won) is more than worth it for the opportunity to buy food from home.

A care package from home turned my first Christmas abroad into something considerably less depressing

Another tried and true way of getting a taste of home is the care package. If you’re feeling homesick and would kill for some Flaming Hot Cheetos or Smarties, make a call home and beg the family (or a particularly good friend) to send a little something your way. Postage to Korea isn’t terribly bad on a flat rate box from the US, but expect to shell out a bit more if you’re posting from Australia. Australia Post are cruel bastards.

There are very few things more exciting that prying open a care package from home and finding all manner of goodies inside. You’d be surprised how excited you are to receive a packet of taco seasoning or some Caramello Koalas from home.

Toiletries

Koreans brush their teeth (a lot) and they shower. You’re not going to struggle to find dental floss or body wash or shampoo in Korea. You will, however, struggle to find deodorant and condoms designed to fit the Western penis. Yes, it’s a horrible stereotype, but trust me on this – Korean and Japanese condoms were not designed to fit a Western sized penis.

In fact, from my experience, it’s akin to wearing a tight pink tank-top on your penis. It’s only going to cover about half of what it needs to, and you’re going to need to finish quickly to avoid losing the tip due to a loss of circulation. Bring condoms from home. I can’t stress this enough. Girls, don’t worry, birth control is readily available and doesn’t require a prescription.

Deodorant can be bought at foreigner markets at a pretty hefty mark-up. Don’t expect to pay less than 8000 won for a can of Axe. Roll on sticks of deodorant are a little easier to find, and I’ve even found a decent selection in a back alley market in sleepy Jochiwon. Spray deodorant is a lot less common and, sadly, not something you can post. Best to suck it up and shell out at a foreigner market.

Practice safe sex. You never know who you’ll meet on the road…

But seriously – condoms. Bring them and bring lots. Just because everybody in the country has been tested for HIV upon entering doesn’t mean they can’t have something else or that they can’t bear you an accidental child. I can’t imagine a much worse scenario than trying to deal with an unwanted pregnancy in Korea. Don’t risk it.

Movies & Television

While most Koreans don’t speak much English, you’ll be pleased to know that a good selection of US television shows are aired in South Korea on cable TV. These are aired in English with Korean subtitles, so if you’re a fan of Bones or Medium or NCIS – you’re not going to miss out. The Simpsons airs here and so does Spongebob, although the latter is dubbed (poorly) by Korean voice actors who all sound virtually the same as one another.

Western movies, particularly action movies, are released in South Korea at roughly the same time as the rest of the world. There are a few exceptions – Harry Potter’s final installment is being held back until December for some ungodly reason. These are all in English with Korean subtitles, even the animations. But if there’s a second language in the film requiring subtitles – you’ll be left in the dark. I tried watching Defiance at the cinema and could make very little sense of it.

Making Your Apartment Feel Like Home

Most teacher accommodation in Korea comes in the form of a studio apartment. They’re rarely particularly large and often come with a single bed. Clearly, we Western folk don’t have sex. If you’re lucky, your apartment will be furnished and equipped with new things – but often you’re left with a mismatched assortment of beat up furnishings and old utensils that you’ll want to replace as soon as humanly possible. Buying furniture isn’t something I’ve done a lot of in Korea – but places like Home Plus and eMart do stock a healthy selection of furnishings. These range from the fancier things that only a long term teacher would want to shell out for, to easily assembled desk and chair kits that I’ve splashed the cash on in the past.

Another good option is to check foreigner groups on Facebook or to investigate sites such as Korea Bridge. Their classified sections are often packed full of foreigners trying to offload things before they leave the country. I’ve picked up treadmills, chairs, exercise ikes, weights sets, tables, and even guitars this way. Sometimes for substantially less than I’d have paid in a store.

A good tip for fighting of homesickness is to bring a few touches of home along with you. Whenever I head to Korea I’m sure to take photos, a few books, and one or two of my favorite DVDs. You’d be surprised what hanging a few photos from home on your wall will do to brighten up a dour apartment and also lift your spirits. Hanging a brightly colored blanket on the wall or buying a rug to put on the floor are other simple ways to make an alien place feel like a home. And trust me, after a few months of junk accumulate in your apartment, it will feel just like your old college dorm room.

A potted plant can add some much needed life and color to your apartment. Image courtesy Francis Chung.

One other way to be more comfortable in your new environment is to get a pet or a plant to put a little life into things. Pets are obviously a temptation, but bear in mind that you’re likely to leave after a year and that it’s not cheap to take a pet back home with you. If you are determined to get a cute little kitten or a puppy, be sure you are either in it for the long haul or you have somebody lined up to take them when you’re done. Ditching an animal back into the already crowded pound system is just not cool.

Better to buy a plant and have it put a bit of colour into your apartment. They take less work and they’re not quite as hard to find a new home for when you decide to call it a day.

Clothes

Finally, the all important topic of clothes. When you’re heading to Korea you’ve got maybe one or two bags to work with. That’s a tiny bit of space to bring a year’s worth of clothing. And while some people are blessed with the thin Korean physique and can shop just about anywhere – a lot of us don’t fit that particular mould and will find shopping hard or downright impossible. Even visiting Seoul’s ‘large size stores’ in Itaewon can be a frustrating affair if you’re not a gang-banger. Apparently we all just get around in throwback jerseys, baggy jeans, and bling.

You’ll find chains like Zara, Forever 21, Nike, and the like in Korea – but you’ll find that most (or all) of them stock only Korean sizes. Even if you’re a little overweight by Western standards, don’t bother looking. There are few things as deflating to the ego as walking into a store and being greeted by an impossibly pretty and petite Korean woman informing that there is ‘no large-ee size’.

There are a number of ways to get clothes from abroad, though. Care packages are a good bet if your family loves you, or there’s websites such as gMarket, eBay, and individual company sites that will ship to Korea for a fairly acceptable postage fee.

Shoes are the same. Big feet? Bring extra or have ’em shipped from home.

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There you have it. It’s hardly comprehensive, but hopefully the above tips will help you combat homesickness or prepare for your trip to Korea. It’s a fantastic and sometimes bumpy ride, but with a little preparation a scary place can be turned into one you’ll remember as a second home forever.

Links

The Underground Grocer

Costco Korea

Korea Bridge

EZ Shop Korea (Groceries delivered to your door!)

Life on the Road, South Korea

My Korean Midnight Run – Quitting my job in South Korea

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The Decision to Leave

The road back home after any trip abroad is often one filled with mixed feelings.

Part of you is probably happy to be returning home and another part, often larger, is sad to be leaving behind what has hopefully been an eventful and enjoyable time in your life. Even in the case of my four months in Korea, which had definitely been more pain than pleasure, I left Korea with a great deal of sadness.

Defeat

Nobody likes to be defeated, but that is how I left Korea in 2011. I’d gone back with the hopes of moving on after my break-up and finding a new niche for myself and discovered one of the great truths in life:

You can never go back home.

Korea isn’t my true home, obviously, but in many ways I did more growing up during my time on the peninsula than I had done in the twenty four years prior to first stepping off the plane.

I lost my virginity in Korea, I had my first adult relationships there, I had my first full time job there, and I learned a great deal about what I am capable of.

During my two years and change in South Korea, I’m pleased to say that I exceeded my own expectations of myself.

Sadly, my third stint in Korea just hasn’t been what I had hoped it would be.

I made some fantastic friends, had a brief but fun time with a fantastic girl, and managed to see some pretty amazing things, but at the end of the day I learned that teaching English in South Korea is no longer for me.

Perhaps more importantly, I learned that I cannot deal with my depression simply by making the band-aid fix of moving to a new country and starting afresh.

Maybe running back home with my tail between my legs is little more than another band-aid, but it is one administered with the knowledge that my support network in Australia is far stronger than any I could have found in South Korea. And that’s no slight against my wonderful friends there.

The Decision to do a Midnight Run

A “midnight run” is when a foreigner (usually an ESL teacher) leaves without notice. This is usually done overnight, hence the term ‘midnight run’.

While I tried my best to do the right thing by giving my school notice, I found myself hit with all manner of nonsense charges that I would be forced to pay.

I’d been prepared to reimburse the cost of my flight, but additional fees were not only not in my contract – but downright opportunistic bullshit.

So, rather than tough it out and pay through the nose for the pleasure – I decided to do a midnight run.

Saying Goodbye to Friends: Leaving Shenanigans

I said goodbye to most of my friends on the Saturday preceding my departure. The short notice meant that a lot of people had to pull out, but it’s perhaps indicative of the year I had that the turnout was considerably smaller than I’d managed when leaving Australia in January or when leaving Korea in 2008 or 2009.

Those who did come were the cream of the crop though. Zak and Heather made it across from Gwangju to represent my former home, Anne, Crystal, and Jinho represented the Thursday Party empire, and a motley crew of pretty gals and cool cats were on hand to ensure Busan wasn’t left unrepresented.

Farewell Drinks Busan
Enjoying some farewell ddeok galbi with Matt and Derya

Our evening started at a very good ddeok galbi place whose name escapes me. Cheesy ddeok galbi (a combination of chicken, fried rice, chewy rice cakes, cheese, and spicy sauce) is perhaps my favorite Korean food and a must try if ever you find yourself in the land of the morning calm.

We washed it down with liberal servings of Hite and soju and then it was on to HQ bar for some more drinks.

HQ, perhaps best known for its fantastic Western food menu and weekly trivia comps, has recently opened up a very chill fourth story lounge that really does feel like a slice of home. Comfortable couches dot the room and make it feel more like a house party than a bar, and no smoking means that it’s one of the few bastions of breathable air in Korea.

“Never Have I Never” was played and many things were learned, and by the time we stumbled on to Blue Monkey (a club that my Welsh friend insisted we visit) I was nicely buzzed. In fact, I recall very little of our time at Blue Monkey aside from shots of whiskey courtesy of Jinho and some doubtlessly bad swing dancing.

Things really were a blur after that.

I vaguely recall embarrassing myself at beer pong at KSU Thursday Party before my group splintered in two. Half of us (myself included) ended up at a soju bar and the other half ended up in Gwangan. At some point I got it into my head to join the Gwangan crew and instead ended up taking a nap on beautiful Gwangali Beach.

Thank God for Zak having the presence of mind to find me and steer me safely home.

It was easily my drunkest night in Busan, so I guess it’s fitting that I saved it for last. Those who did show up ensured I had a great night, and I won’t say I didn’t wake the next day sad that I’d not get to partake in any more Busan drinking adventures.

Moreso than Gwangju (with its tight knit drinking scene) or Seoul (with its sprawling scene), Busan has a great mix of bars, pubs, and clubs to ensure you’re never short of options.

Saying Goodbye to the Girl

After finishing up my final day at school, I headed home immediately to collect my belongings and rushed to the train station to ensure I didn’t miss my ride up to Jochiwon. Although the girl and I had broken up two weeks earlier, we’d both wanted to get some closure before I left the country.

The goings on of my final day in Korea (and our final day together) aren’t really anybody’s business but our own. Suffice to say it was probably the best and worst day I’d had in Korea.

Saying goodbye to somebody you care about is never easy, and kissing her goodbye at the cab rank the following night was an exercise in heartbreak. We might not have worked out as a couple, and that may have played some small part in my decision to leave, but there’s no denying that we cared about one another a great deal.

Meeting her was most definitely the highlight of my time in Korea. It was worth the journey, without a doubt.

Cherry Blossom Festival
The girl and I at the Cherry Blossom Festival

My tears had scarce dried by the time I stepped onto my 10.30pm train to Seoul.

With my flight being at 9.40am, I wouldn’t be able to miss a beat in my trip. I arrived at Seoul Station just in time to miss the last train out to the airport, so resigned myself to a night spent sleeping on the floor. I wasn’t alone in my thinking – it seems most of Seoul’s homeless population crams into the station when the sun goes down and the clouds open up.

Sleeping in Seoul Railway Station

While enjoying a midnight Lotteria feast I spotted another foreigner with dark circles under her eyes and luggage piled high around her, so struck up a conversation and shared stories of our experiences with the same hagwon chain. She’d missed her train back to Daegu, but opted to shell out for a hotel room instead of chancing it on the cold, marble floor of the terminal.

With no cash to splash on such an extravagance, I instead spread out my blanket and tried to catch a few Z’s on the terminal floor.

Alas, Seoul Station closes at 1am for ninety minutes, and so I found myself unceremoniously (but apologetically) out in the rain with my luggage not long after I’d dozed off.

My First (and Last) Jimjilbang Experience

Thankfully a kind cab driver was able to point me in the direction of a jimjilbang, and even came inside to explain what I needed to the staff behind the counter.

I’ll definitely miss the Korean people’s eagerness to help. It doesn’t extend to everybody (I’m looking at ajummas and ajoshis here), but by and large you’ll never have to look far for a kind soul who is willing to help out a hapless foreigner.

Jimjilbang’s are something unique to Korea – a combination of sauna, public bath house, hotel, restaurant, and entertainment complex. I paid 15,000 won ($15 AUD) for access to the entire facility – although all I really needed was a place to shelter from the rain.

Immediately after entering I had to check my shoes into one locker in exchange for the ‘uniform’ I’d be required to wear inside. Many of the Korean men in attendance were stark naked though. Jimjilbang’s are divided up by sex, so I was saved the blushes of seeing Korean women in their altogether.

A man wearing his towel in traditional jjimjilbang fashion

Once I’d changed into my white shorts and t-shirt, I grabbed a drink and retired to the upstairs PC room to check some emails and watch some TV.

Perhaps I should have slept, but I was afraid I’d miss my 6am train out to the airport and so instead contented myself with chatting and catching up on my TV. The humid heat was in stark contrast to the cool outside, and when I left at around 4am it raised goosebumps on my skin as I walked back to the station.

The Train to Incheon Airport

An hour later a very tired Chris stepped onto the express train that runs from Seoul Station to Incheon International Airport in 45 minutes. It’s definitely worth the 13,000 won as there are no stops along the way and it drops you almost immediately underneath the departures area.

I hurriedly shed some excess luggage (and said a fond farewell to a pair of shoes that had served me well for almost two years), checked my luggage, and turned in my alien card to officially end my time in Korea.

Incheon International Airport consistently receives praise as one of the best airports in the world, and it’s easy to understand why when you’re sitting at a free laptop using free internet to say your last goodbyes.

Eat a dick, China Southern

I’d managed to find a flight home for $408 US through China Southern Air. If all you’re worried about is price, the go with it. If you want a little more comfort though, I’d advise steering clear of this particular airline. The lack of in-flight entertainment, the generally horrendous food (even by airline standards), and the often surly staff might have made for a rough flight had I not been so exhausted. I slept the entirety of my three hour flight to Guangzhou in southern China.

Eat a dick, Guangzhou Airport

My eight hour layover at Guangzhou’s Beiyun Airport might have been my most unpleasant travel experience to date.

After being hurried through customs and back in to the departure lounge, I was dismayed to find that there were no currency exchange facilities in the entire area. Clutching a sizable wad of Korean currency did me scant good as I surveyed the dismal selection of food options on hand. There’s an abundance of boutique stores and duty free outlets on hand, but just three generic cafes in the airport. I’d read that Beiyun provided free WiFi to travelers as well, but I could find no sign of it on either my Galaxy or my laptop.

Thankfully, I had $20 US in my wallet and so took a seat in the nicest looking of the cafes and ordered myself a ham & cheese sandwich and a glass of orange juice. It arrived promptly and I handed over my $20.

The food was unremarkable, yet I received a single dollar bill as my change. A quick chat with the sole English speaker on staff confirmed that yes, I had just been charged almost twenty dollars for a dry sandwich and a meager glass of orange juice.

At least my purchase got me access to the WiFi network.

The remainder of my day was spent attempting to sleep on the plentiful but not particularly comfortable benches, searching in vain for a place I could exchange some currency, and wondering why an airport in a city with 34 degree days didn’t have air conditioning.

It was only as I was preparing to board downstairs (after a last minute gate change) that I discovered that the lower portion of the airport not only has air-conditioning, but also has plenty of international power outlets with which I could have charged my phone or laptop.

The bottom floor was rife with mosquitoes though, so maybe I made the right call in enduring the sweltering heat.

Coming Home

Nine and a half hours flew by thanks to my exhaustion, and soon I found myself arriving to an Australia substantially chillier than the one I’d left.

It brought a smile to my face and a patriotic tear to my eye to be greeted with a thick Aussie accent and a ‘no worries’ at customs. I’d left Australia in 2007 sure that I didn’t like living there, but my year in Australia in 2010 had clearly had more of an affect on me than I had anticipated. I’ll never give up travel, but maybe it’s time for me to make Australia my base of operations.

My good friend Randell greets me as I arrive home in 2009

I was greeted by friendly faces and whisked away for a good feed (home made boscaiola), a nice hot shower, and an afternoon spent napping. It was hard to leave behind all of the people I’d met in Korea, but I can’t say it wasn’t damned good to be home.

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Have you ever left a country in less than ideal circumstances?

South Korea

7 Things About Korea: Korean Food

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The Wonders of Korean Food

From the signature bulgogi to more exotic items such as ddok galbi and the infamous boshintong (dog soup) – there’s something for most every palette in the Land of the Morning Calm.

When people think of Korean food they generally think of either kimchi (spicy fermented cabbage) or bulgogi, which is marinated beef usually cooked BBQ style but used in everything from pizza to hamburgers. I’ve tried it in both its traditional BBQed form and in a kind of stew that was poured over rice. The last of these tries were done at Everland though, so I doubt it was an authentic representation of the dish.

NB: Kimchi comes in a variety of forms based around different vegetables including cucumber and radish. It can be ‘old’ or ‘new’, which greatly influences its taste. When I say kimchi here I literally mean the generic cabbage variety. Just to avoid confusion.

A Land for Carnivores

When it comes to eating meat, Koreans don’t really do meals without it. And while most Korean children make do with kimchi and rice for at least two meals a day, the remaining meal will have some kind of fleshy accompaniment – even if it is just canned ham or a pitiable little piece of fish.

My personal preference when it comes to dark meat is either galbi (BBQed beef served rolled up in lettuce leaves) or seomgyeopsal (the same again, but with pork in place of beef). It’s not a meal in Korea without dozens of sides accompanying the main course, and these usually include kimchi, coleslaw with some kind of odd sauce, pickles, and if you’re lucky, a rare treat such as boiled quail eggs or delightfully soft baked potatoes.

Eating in Korea is a communal thing, and galbi and seomgyeopsal are both cooked on a hot-plate in the center of the table and eaten from it. You use chopsticks to pluck up a piece of meat and place it into a leaf (usually lettuce, but occasionally sesame) alongside any other accompaniments you wish to throw in. I generally use samjjang (a mild bean paste), a sliver of garlic, and some kind of spicy vegetable. Others prefer to use gochujang (a spicy pepper paste) for a little extra kick.

My family enjoying their first galbi on a visit to Gwangju in 2008

Washed down with some local beer or some soju, galbi and seomgyeopsal are both cheap and surprisingly filling options when you’re out and about. They’re a sit down meal, so don’t expect to be in and out quickly, and you can always splash out on marinated options if you’re feeling a bit special.

Sharing a name with galbi is ddok galbi, which bears no real resemblance to the beef dish. Made with chicken, ddok (chewy rice cakes), and plenty of spice – ddok galbi is traditionally eaten with either noodles or rice. The noodle version does tend to run a lot hotter, and I’ve only ever eaten it folded in leaves. The rice version, which I’ve had plenty of this year, is typically just eaten straight from the wok with a spoon. It’s fantastic with a little cheese mixed in as well. My personal favorite when it comes to Korean cuisine.

Amazing, amazing ddok galbi eaten in Nampodong, Busan

Another meat offering is the more Western ‘dankas’, which is essentially a breaded pork cutlet served with a side salad and BBQ sauce. There is also a cheesy dankas, which has a layer of cheese between the pork and the bread-crumbs. Neither of them are healthy or particularly Korean, but are usually available as a takeout meal.

For the Vegetarians

Not feeling meat? There’s other options on the menu.

Shabu Shabu, a dish borrowed from the Japanese, is a hearty soup packed full of thick noodles, vegetables, and a little meat if you so desire. Eaten communally and often poured over rice (as many Korean soups are) – it’s great on a chilly night and is remarkably filling. I had shabu shabu on both my first and last nights out in Korea during my first tour of duty, so it’s always going to hold a special place in my heart.

Shabu Shabu!

Another soup option that springs to mind is kimchi jjigae, a broth made from kimchi. It lacks the spiciness and distinctly fishy taste of kimchi, with a more tomato based recipe making it easier on foreign palettes. There’s also chamchi jjigae, which is essentially the same thing served up with chunks of tuna in the mix for that little extra protein. There are other jjigae options but I’ve not ventured far afield in this particular area.

Of course, boshintong is a soup made from dog that is occasionally available. I have no qualm with eating dog, but the way the animals are killed does put me off ever sampling this particular dish.

If you’re ever feeling a nasty hangover, there’s also a famous local soup that the natives swear will ward it off. The name of it escapes me, and I’ve not had it in over two years, but it’s based around beef spine and is remarkably spicy. It’ll burn a hangover out of you before it’s had a chance to cause you any heart-ache.

Rice! Glorious Rice!

On the ricier side of things are bibimbap (literally mixed rice), bocumbop (fried rice), albop (rice with fish eggs), gimbap (seaweed rice wraps), and various variants on the traditional white rice. Bibimbap is a great and pretty healthy option – mixing rice with various vegetables, a fried or raw egg, and plenty of the spicy pepper paste. When served with a raw egg it will come in a hot bowl (called dolsot bibimbap) in which the egg literally cooks itself as you stir it through the rice. Definitely my preferred method of intake.

Possibly the worst bibimbap I ever had, but also the only photo I’ve ever taken of it. Sorry!

Albop is along the same lines, but instead of an egg and vegetables – you instead have various kinds of seaweed and liberal lashings of roe (fish eggs) to flavor the dish. I am in love with this particularly specialty.

Gimbop, akin to a Japanese sushi roll but with key differences, is an easy to find snack. When it’s made well it is quite good – but the vast majority of gimbop foreigners will eat will either come from ‘fast food’ Korean restaurants like Gimbop Nara or Gimbop Jongu, or it will be bought cold in 7/11s and other convenience stores. It also comes in triangle form which I find is a better option. Hard as hell to unwrap though.

My friend Cody enjoying some chamchi (tuna) gimbop on the ferry to Oaedaldo in 2009

Not feeling rice? Mandu is a dumpling filled with kimchi, beef, noodles, or a combination of the three. You can buy it cheaply in bulk at most supermarkets and cook it at home, but it’s also available in most restaurants for very little. There’s a deep fried variant out there for when you’re hungover, but I prefer it in its less heart-attack inducing form.

Vegetarians might also consider pajjang, a pancake made with vegetables and squid – although this last can be taken out for the true vegetarians. You can get it with other ingredients, and the Cave Bar in Beomil, Busan serves up a brilliant seafood kimchi pajjang that is worth a try. Wash it down with makkali and you won’t regret it, I promise.

 

Pajang. So good it didn’t survive long enough to photograph.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of subsisting on a diet of Paris Baguette, Dunken Donuts, McDonalds, and 7/11 food when you’re in Korea – but there’s so much delicious local flavor out there that it would be a crime to stay in. Hell, I haven’t even touched on Korean seafood – of which there is a massive selection. It is, sadly, not my area of interest. I will say that BBQed eel served up galbi style is a highlight of any coastal visit though.

Fish baking out in the sun at Jagalchi Fish Markets in Busan. One of the reasons I don’t eat Korean seafood.

All of this typing is making me hungry. Off to eat some of the decidedly un-Korean food I just cooked for myself. Black bean and lentil burritos! I’m such a hypocrite.

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Busan, Gwangju, Seoul, South Korea

7 Things About Korea: Drinking Culture

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Much like the neighboring Japanese, the Koreans have a rich drinking culture to go along with their near suicidal work ethic. But hey, if I worked as hard as the average Korean did – I’d be driven to drink copious amounts of alcohol too. I barely work half as much and I’m already borderline.

 

If you like a good drink, Korea is going to feel like a welcome homecoming to you. Not only is the stuff both cheap and readily available, but a large part of being a part of the foreigner crowd is getting out and socializing at the many bars, clubs, and… well… anywhere. Korea has no open bottle law, so you can roam the street with a 1.5 liter pitcher of Hite (Korean beer) and nobody will say boo. I wouldn’t advise it though. We foreigners already have a bad enough reputation in this country.

 

Koreans put Australians to shame when you compare the amount of alcohol consumed per head to that of we beer swilling Aussies, and we’re hardly a nation of teetotalers either. But it’s not uncommon to smell the rich stink of soju in an elevator in the middle of the day, and a number of my more drunken 5am walks home have seen me pass little clusters of ajoshi (old men) sharing bottles of soju on the plastic chairs and tables outside of convenience stores. In fact, you could easily say Koreans drink more than we evil Westerners – they’re just less rowdy, violent, and sexually promiscuous than we are when they do it. Or they’re just better at hiding it.

 

First of all, whatever your poison is, you’re likely to find something resembling it in Korea. While you might not find Crown Royal at every bar or your favorite bottle of wine at the supermarket, you will find a passable substitute if you’re willing to lower your standards a little. There’s a joke about dating in there somewhere. The big three: spirits, beer, and wine are all available here in both the cheap Korean version and the slightly more expensive imported versions. Likewise, you can find both local and imported ‘RTD’ (ready to drink) items such as Vodka Cruisers, Red Bear, and the awfully named Hooch.

 

There are also a few local options such as makali (a rice wine that looks and tastes a bit like alcoholic yogurt), plum wine, and the infamous soju, which is brewed most commonly from rice and tastes like a slightly sweeter (and substantially less potent) vodka. The what of it isn’t what this entry is about though, and more the ‘where’ of it.

 

The Hof

No, I’m not talking about a greased up German running down a beach. Hofs are literally places where you can eat and enjoy a meal – usually fried chicken or some God awful fusion that you’ll probably love when you first arrive out of pure homesickness, but will later look upon with the same disdain at which you look at Mini Stop fried chicken and Hershey’s chocolate as a viable substitute for Cadbury. And no, you won’t have a great deal of luck finding Cadbury on the peninsula. Hershey’s has cornered the market.

 

A few of my closest friends came out at Star Fox (in Shinga, Gwangju) for my farewell in 2008

If you’re looking for a quieter place to have a beer and get a bite to eat, a hof is definitely going to be a better option than the more popular soju bars and the often too crowded foreigner bars. Most will have the local beers on tap (those being Hite, Cass, and OB – all virtually identical) and probably a few imports. The most popular in Korea are Cafri, Corona, Heineken, Budweiser, Asahi, Tiger, and the occasional bottle of XXXX or Victoria Bitter if you’re particularly homesick. I’ve never seen Tooheys New here. Sad truth.

 

You’ll find hofs are almost everywhere and can be recognised by the presence of a large cartoon chicken most of the time. American themed places like Miller Time have better food (and usually an English speaker or two) on hand, but you pay a premium for the service. Ditto the Wa Bar franchise – which has a better selection of imported beers than most.

 

Special mention also goes to the ice bars, in which your drink is served in a glass made of ice (and wrapped in a sleeve to protect your hands). Once you’re done with your beer you unsheath your beast and throw it at a target to try and win a prize. These usually end up being cheap orange drink or another beer, but the promise of a good prize only keeps people coming back for more.

 

Soju Bars

Vodka did a real number on my during my college years. With a bottle of the cheap stuff only running at around $20, it was a good deal cheaper than drinking something I actually liked. I think I can pin-point the exact night where my tense relationship with vodka took a turn for the worse. I was at a party at my good friend Lez’s house and ran out of mixers well before I ran out of vodka. Young and stupid (and not at all interested in calling an end to my drinking) – I started mixing with whatever I could find. Woodstock Bourbon & Cola, white wine, beer, and eventually red cordial straight from the bottle. Over the course of that night I lost my lucky hat, did a dive forward roll over an armchair and put my foot through a table, and ended the evening hugging the toilet and vomiting bright red because of the cordial.

 

Since then, vodka and I haven’t been friends.

 

So soju was something I came to pretty late in my time in Korea. With its taste being slightly reminiscent of vodka, it was a bit hard for me to stomach when I first tried it with my co-worker Daniel in 2007. In fact, it wasn’t until the very end of my first year in Korea that I began to realize soju’s awesomeness when mixed with less horrible tasting things. My first brush with this as at Fish & Grill – a chain of soju bars that sell pretty good food and very good fruit soju smoothies that go down dangerously easily. They’re a little weak as is, so order an extra bottle of soju with every jug and be prepared for a blurry night. They come in a variety of flavors including pineapple, kiwi, and strawberry – and different stores will have their own variations.

 

No intention of sharing

Soju is also good mixed with virtually any drink you can buy at a convenience store. I’ve had friends drink soju screwdrivers, but I’ve always been partial to the magic of pojo (Powerade + soju). It goes down easy and you’re sucking down electrolytes all night. Makes for a very low key hangover as long as you stick solely to poju. At least that’s how the legend goes.

 

In 2011 I also discovered soju bars that just serve soju. My good friends Anne, Crystal, Jinho and I have started to frequent them – doing shots of soju (usually cut with a little Cider or a delicious mix of cranberry juice and vinegar) and munching on various snacks that used to be animals. Good times and a lot more ‘native’ than the usually garishly decorated beer bars.

 

Want to go even more native than a soju bar? Tent restaurants all over the country offer up basic Korean food and usually have soju on offer. I ended a good friend’s bachelor party eating various gross dishes and inhaling soju at an unhealthy rate in 2009, and the highlight of it were the locals taking a break from their eating to alternatively mock and cheer along with our motley crew of drunks.

 

Foreigner Bars

Where there’s foreigners – there are going to be foreigner bars. While it’s not easy to buy real estate in Korea as a Westerner (I’m pretty sure you need a Korean partner to do the buying) – there are very few towns without a foreigner staffed and run bar. And even in those that don’t, such as Jochiwon with Touch bar, there’ll end up being a Korean bar that gets overtaken by the interlopers and becomes a foreigner bar whether it likes it or not.

 

In Gwangju the pick of the litter were Abey (Rest in peace), Mike & Dave’s Speakeasy, The German Bar, and Soul Train. In the years since I’ve left you can add Ethnic (a hookah place with an amazing atmosphere), Tequilaz, and Bubble Bar.

 

Mokpo has P Club and Ice Bar. Seoul has more than you can shake a stick at, but I mentioned them in a previous post.

 

Busan? Metal City in Seomyeon. Evas, HQ, Kino Eye, Ol’ 55, and Vinyl Underground in KSU. Wolfhound, Sharkies, Geckos Terrace, and Rock & Roll Bar in Haeundae. Thursday Party, a chain of Korean own and run bars worthy of their own entry at a later date, are practically everywhere.

 

Anne, Crystal, and Jill. Thursday Party regulars.

What you get varies tremendously from bar to bar. Some of them are little more than meat markets (I’m looking at you Bubble Bar); some are better to start the evening than to finish it, and some go through weird periods of popularity before becoming dead for months at a time (Soul Train springs to mind). Some are themed (Tequilaz has an obvious theme) and some play more dance music than rock music. It’s going to be up to you which best suit your tastes, and chances are you’ll frequent more than a few during your time in Korea.

 

Tequilaz is a little out of the way, but worth the visit

One thing they all have in common is that they’re almost exclusively populated by the foreign crowd. You’ll get a few more adventurous Koreans venturing in or out, but you’ll need to go off the beaten track if you want to bring home a pretty Korean girl to meet the parents.

 

I find that foreigner bars are the best bet when you’re new to a town for obvious reasons, but as your year progresses you’ll cut your rotation down and end up spending time in less crowded haunts. I know that’s been the case with me, although single Chris does tend to gravitate back to the promise of strange new girls in foreigner bars. Much to my mother’s dismay, I’ve never shown much interest in Korean girls.

 

Night Clubs

I’m far from an authority on night clubs. In fact, unless I am really drunk or really desperate to feel somebody’s body up against mine, I’ll avoid them like the plague. Korean nightclubs are a lot like nightclubs back home, and are a better place to meet Koreans than the foreigner bars and hofs. Some of them (such as Vanilla in Gwangju) offer special deals for foreigners and most have cover charges that may or may not include a few drinks. The aforementioned Vanilla used to have unlimited draft beer once you got in.

 

Most are smoky and loud. Most play the same thumping bass you’ll hear in any other club. They’re not for me, but I’ve got friends who end every night out in clubs such as Busan’s Ghetto.

 

Noraebang

It’s not strictly for drinking, but the Korean equivalent to karaoke definitely does its briskest business when the sun goes down and the liquor starts to flow. If you’re a perfectionist you probably won’t like the echoey microphones used in noraebangs, but there’s very few ways better to end a night than with Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer bellowed out with a dozen of your closest friend in a cramped, garishly decorated room within which the TV shows complete incongruous video to what you’re singing. Kangaroos bouncing around to Maroon 5’s This Love and Korean drama as a backdrop to Nirvana’s Heart Shaped Box. It’s almost as entertaining as watching a dear friend blow a vocal gasket trying to hit the high note in Build Me Up Buttercup.

 

Ok, that was me who blew a vocal gasket. There’s video to prove it.

 

Totally nailing the high note in Bon Jovi's 'Don't Wanna Miss a Thing' in 2008

Rooms are generally cheap and come with plenty of ‘service’ food (free food). Beer and soju are available on site, and some even serve up the delicious fruit soju I mentioned earlier. Some of the seedier establishments, dubbed ‘service noraebangs’, will even rent you a pretty girl to sit in your lip and sing along with you. No sex guaranteed, although I’ve heard tell that it can be arranged between customer and juicy girl. It’s not something I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing.

 

Bottoms Up!

You don’t necessarily have to drink to enjoy your time in Korea. I’ve got lots of friends who never touch the stuff and still have a ball. They save a lot more money than those of us who imbibe too. So no, you don’t need to drink to enjoy your time here.

 

But sometimes, after a day with screaming kids and a barely coherent director, it certainly helps.

 

Gambae. Salut. Cheers.
South Korea

7 Things About Korea: Street Food

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With my departure from Korea around the corner, I realize I haven’t written quite as much about my life here as I had originally hoped. It seems strange that I could churn out an entry a day when I was working a desk-job in Sydney, but while living abroad and dealing with new challenges everyday – I have sometimes gone weeks without a post.

One of Korea’s signature snacks – gimbap. Rice, seaweed, pickle, cheese, and spam. Cheap and fairly healthy.

In an effort to curb that, and to support Hannah DeMilita in her own quest for thirty straight days of posts, I’m going to put up seven posts in seven days detailing some facet of Korean life that I’ve found fascinating, frustrating, fantastic, or just downright weird.

For my first treatise on the wonders and weirdness of Korea, I’ve chosen to write about the mind blowing array of street food. So, without further ado…

Street Food in South Korea

Seldom a drunken night in Korea passes with a visit to some kind of street vendor. When the bakeries and galbi joints have closed, sometimes your best option is something suspicious looking being hawked from the back of a trailer by a man or woman whose hygiene standards don’t quite match up to what you’d find in a Western country. The snootier travel guides will tell you not to risk a case of ‘Delhi Belly’ by sampling these delights, but it’s not living if you’re not willing to chance an hour or two grunting atop the toilet in the name of new experiences. And FYI, I’ve never once had a nasty reaction to street food eaten in Korea.

The vast majority of street food in Korea tends towards being fried and/or being meat. That’s not to say vegetarians are completely out of luck, but it is definitely a carnivore’s market when it comes to street peddlers. You can sink your teeth into everything from chicken or beef, to stranger things such as silkworm larvae and man’s best friend. There’s various fruits on sticks, peanut stuffed pancakes, waffles, and even shaved ice topped with bean paste and fruit for the sweet tooth as well as piping hot cups of fishy water for cold mornings.

On a Stick…

Kimberly enjoys her first ever potato tornado (with powdered cheese) at the 2011 Jinhae Cherry Blossom Festival
Sausages and corn-dogs? Oh my!
My cute little brother enjoying some pineapple on a stick in April 2008.
Odeng. Processed fish meat on a stick.

One of the more culinary delights on offer in Korea comes in the form of various foodstuffs on a stick. In summer you’ll be able to find various tropical fruits on sticks, but all year round there’s a variety of meaty snacks on the menu. I’ve long been a fan of chicken on a stick – lightly marinated pieces of chicken breast skewered and cooked on a grill. I’ve occasionally found myself suspicious that mine wasn’t cooked all the way through, but when you’re paying 1000 won (less than $1), it’s really no big deal to throw it away if you don’t want to risk a nasty case of salmonella.

Other options ‘on a stick’ include various kinds of sausage, corn dogs (or Pluto Pups to the Aussies), potato tornadoes (see below), odeng (heavily processed fish that is then soaked in its own juices), and toffee apples. I’ve not had much experience with the sausage, but the corn dogs are good once you get through the obscene amount of dough on them. Potato tomatoes are amazing and odeng, whilst not particularly flavorful, is often served with a cup of the piping hot water that it is soaked in. It might not sound appealing, but on an icy night in a country without much in the way of good tea, it’s going to be your best friend as you shiver by the stand and question the sanity of your move to a country that sees regular snow.

Classier Cuisine?

‘On a stick’ doesn’t really conjure up images of fine food, but there’s plenty of other options available to the discerning Korean snack buyer. Many pizza stores sell their pizza by the slice and use a novel delivery system – the paper cup. Anybody who likes pizza and has been here long will have their favorite venue, and I’m quite fond of the Mr. Song’s Pizza in my neck of Busan. If you ever find yourself in Daesindong (and I have no idea why you would) – it’s right by Tom & Toms and the owner speaks good English. Top bloke.

Not interested in pizza? How about a sweet waffle smeared in strawberry jam and mock cream? A wallet of dough into which peanut butter has been injected? Fish shaped cakes full of sweet red bean paste? The famous ham and cheese (with inexplicable coleslaw) toasted sandwiches?  Plenty of surprisingly good options available for those not feeling like devouring one of our furry friends.

Bondeggi. Boiled silkworm larvae. Tastes even worse than it smells
Smothered in faux cream, these waffles are pretty amazing.
A variety of dried fish and other sea creatures. I’m particularly fond of dried squid.
Toffee apples I’ve had. But toffee strawberries?
Chewy rice cake, processed fish, and a super spicy sauce make up ddokboki
Sweet fries. My friend Anne calls them picnics, but I call them an abomination.
Enjoying some pizza in a cup in late 2009. A greasy delight.
A variety of deep fried delights. Twigim is a personal favorite of mine when under the influence.

A special note on this last food, my personal favorite when I’m drunk and in need of greasy sustenance. Twigim comes in a variety of forms – but it’s essentially something that has been battered and is then deep friend. You then eat it dipping it in some soy sauce. Squid, octopus, gimbap (see above), hard-boiled eggs, stuffed peppers, glass noodles, vegetables, and shrimp are just a few of the things I’ve had. Twigim’s one drawback is that it’s everywhere and can be very hit or miss. The best I ever had was at a nondescript tent between my old apartment and the post office – and the worst has been at a little storefront on the walk home from work at my current job.

Word to the wise – It does not reheat at all well. Eat it there or eat it fast, but don’t let it go cold. It’s just not cricket.

But there you have it. I’m not a food critic, so I’m going to let my brief descriptions and the pictures do it for you. But I’ve met people who have been here a year and never tried some of the above and I’m just shocked. Why travel halfway around the world to experience another culture if you’re not going to just go crazy and embrace it? Sure, bondeggi tastes like ass – but I can put that alongside deep fried grasshopper as one of the stranger things I’ve eaten and be proud that I had the balls to do it.

The strangest thing I’ve ever eaten was a live sea cucumber, by the way. Picture a pulsing penis shaped thing resting on your tongue. You bite into it and first it’s soft, but there’s a hard core. It shoots something down your throat. You gag.

I now feel for every girl everywhere. I felt violated.

But that’s another story.