Like white on rice

I have a confession to make. I've been hiding this from family and friends for years. 

I can't make rice. 

I can make a five course meal for twenty. I can whip up a delicious meal from scratch by throwing the things in the pantry together. I can cook with dashes, dabs, smidgens, and sprinkles. I make sauces from taste memory. Put a recipe in front of me and I'll make it turn out tasty.

I've spent years giving cooking tips, e-mailing recipes, and giving encouragement to my not so kitchen-savvy friends. But my smugness has a limit, because I can't make rice.

In my life, I have attempted to make rice many times. ( Just to be clear, I'm referring to real rice, not instant rice. A monkey could make Minute Rice.) Every time I try to make rice I do one or more of the following:
1. Burn the pot
2. Burn the rice
3. Undercook  the rice
4. Overcook the rice
5. End up with disgustingly sticky rice

I've spent countless hours watching tutorials online and scouring cooking forums for a magical trick that will cure my rice handicap. It was time wasted.

The irony! I'm living in a country where bap, the Korean word for rice, is the foundation of most meals. I am tempted to just buy a tiny rice cooker to save myself from a year of eating bad rice but that feels too much like defeat. So instead, I'll wrap my rice in gim (seaweed) or smother it in sauce and pretend the texture is perfect.

Nom, nom, nom....sort of. 

A very Lotte Christmas

Merry Christmas to all my followers!  

This is what Christmas time in Korea looks like:

Tree hugging in the Subway Station.

On a tree outside a trendy shop in Seoul.

Add caption

A Christmas present from one of our student's  parents. 

Lina Bean!

This is the first Christmas I've spent away from my family. It's a sobering experience, having a holiday be so much like an ordinary day. 

Every year I fight to maintain our family's traditions, yet this year I've participated in none. I didn't send a single Christmas card, I don't have a tree, I didn't watch any Christmas movies, my Bing Crosby quota is not fulfilled, and my presents will all be sent in January.  I feel guilty for checking out but it's probably for the best. If I had been my usual Christmas-geek self the disappointment of a solo Christmas would have been far greater.

That said, I managed to have a rather productive day. I made a visit to Lotte Mart, a Walmart-like store, all on my own. I discovered that large stores in Korea a abrasive to the senses, the grocery section especially. It's really loud both because of the number of people shopping and because of the vendors shouting the specials out to every person who walks by. There are plenty of smells, delicious and ...interesting. Then of course there are the visuals. 

???

Those things are as big as my head.

Pig feet, I think.

I believe that is fresh brewed soy sauce, or maybe fish sauce. 

I couldn't get a good shot of the piles of unwrapped meat. Perhaps on my next shopping trip. 

The big purchase of the day was a toaster oven!

Pineapple cookies! Finding the ingredients was a challenge. The texture isn't right but they taste almost
like Mom made them. 

All in all, it was a good Christmas; those I love are safely tucked in in their respective beds and I made cookies in a foreign country. Next year will be a welcome return to the Christmas I know and love though. 

Taking a Taxi.

I apologize for my recent absence here on Korea, etc, etc, etc. I've been busy learning how to be a good teacher, through trial and error, as well as having a lot of budget friendly fun.

Last night my teacher friends and I went to a club in Gangnam, a district in Seoul. My friend has some friends in Korea who also happen to be club promoters, and she was kind enough to get us on the guest list to a club that otherwise charges a 30,000 won cover (about $26).

We took a taxi straight from work to be able to make it in time and, of course, rode in a taxi home. The taxi to the club was the priciest of the two at 50,000 won ($43) for ride that took a little over 30 minutes. Coming back it was only 26,000 won ($23). Split between four people that is pretty darn cheap. In comparison, I recently saw a taxi that advertised Schaumburg to the Loop, approximately the same distance one way, at $90. That means we paid less for double the distance. This price cut is in a country with a much smaller supply of fuel that is sold at a far greater price. Also, there is no tipping in Korea. I'm surprised that the drivers are able to make a living.

I've ridden in a taxi probably 10 times since I've been to Korea because it is so affordable. Sometimes it's even cheaper than taking the bus. Every time I take a taxi I feel a little bit fabulous and like I'm on Sex and the City. Prior to the past month, I'd only ridden in a taxi twice both on someone else's dime. In my mind the only people who take taxis are wealthy city-dwellers or those who's business is picking up the tab. In this small way, Korea has allowed me a convenience I could never afford at home.

A new definition for egg drop soup

I had the most amazing meal tonight.

The first bowl you get (after the side dishes in the middle of the table, of course.) is a piping hot stone bowl filled with rice, which you are to promptly scoop out into a little bowl to make way for broth. The rice that sticks to the stone bowl and the broth mix together to make a nutty, earthy, and slightly burned tasting soup. It's not something I would crave but it's mildly addictive once you start eating it.

The center bowl is the main event. It's a spicy stew filled with thin sliced beef, super silky tofu, and veggies. Here's where it gets interesting. Every table has a basket of eggs on it for you to break into your bubbling hot stew. The heat from the liquid cooks the egg in the bowl in a minute. On the right, you see my eggshell from the egg I dropped into my stew. If you look closly at the center of the stew you can see the yolk.

My co-workers thought I was silly/cute for being so blown away, but I've never broken an egg into my food at the table before. Have you?

This was possibly the most delicious meal I have eaten in Korea so far. I don't remember what the restaurant is called, but I do know how to get there and I will be going back. If you visit, this life-changing chow is a must.

My jib (apartment)

I know you all have been worrying ever since the kerfuffle with North Korea earlier this week. Thank you for thinking of me but rest assured that it's business as usual over here. People in the office really only mention it in passing or if explaining it to a foreigner. Our school director spent some time telling us about it and answering our questions. What happened was more of an annoying terrorist attack than a Pearl Harbor-type attack. It was right along the borderline, which is not where I am. Also, Uijeongbu has both a U.S. and Korean Military base, so it's really a good location as far as defense goes. So, I'm not very worried right now but I have my ears perked just in case.

Let's move on to a lighter topic. In response to the many inquires about my apartment, I've put together a little photo tour of my place. Enjoy!

This is my street. I know it kind of looks like the ghetto but it's not. This is just how cities look here. They're

 cramped and dirty. I actually live very near the shopping district and city hall.

Looking the other way down the street.

The front door. Those characters sound like "Jager House," which I'm sure Paul Davidsaver will appreciate. 

I think this is my address. I say think because things are not always as they seem in Korea.

In the summer we're going to have parties on the roof. 

Go up the stairs to get my my apartment go to your right to get to my friend Lina's apartment.

Tinnie-tiny little mailboxes. WAY smaller than a bread box.

That's my door!

There is microwave on each floor. Yay! I don't have to buy one.

You know how I always run around with a gob of keys in the U.S.? Not here. 

I don't have even a single key. Everything has a key pad on it. 

This is my super-duper automatic lock that locks me into my apartment 

every time I close the door. My Dad would like this baby. He might even 

throw away the Fisher Price alarm.

This is a shot from the door way.

To the right is the bathroom. Complete with stall-free shower.

My closet. (Near the window)

I need more hangers. 

The "view".

Looking back from the window. Note the drying rack. There are no dyers in Korea. 

When the culture shock starts this is probably going to be my first complaint.

 I dislike stiff and wrinkled clothes.

And this one burner stove (sans oven) my second. 

Kitchen and desk area.

This one is for Gram. I have food, see?

<3

I apparently like my house to be between 24 and 26 degrees Celsius. 

Let me know how you like the place. Tomorrow I should get lots of blog material. In the morning I'm having my entry health exam and then we're going on a field trip to Seoul!

That's all folk's.

I whistle a happy tune

Welcome to my blog! I made it through my first 24 hours in Korea and I'm looking forward to settling in.

Here are my initial observations

1.  Lines mean nothing in Korea. (more on this later)

2.  Not as many people speak English as I was led to believe.

3.  Things happen when they happen in Korea. Making plans is not necessary or even advised.

4.  Kimchi is actually pretty good.

I came to Korea hoping to learn about the world, a different culture, and myself. In a society where education is so very important it is not surprising that Korea has already taught me something: Literacy is important.

After 14.5 hour flight from Chicago, I stepped off the airplane, was ushered into the cattle line of immigration, and released into a world Hangul, the Korea alphabet. I successfully figured out the change machine but the payphone had it in for me from the start. The phone and every sign around it was in Hangul. I couldn't even figure out how much is cost to place a call; there wasn't a number or Won symbol in sight. Finally after, 15 minutes of wrestling with the phone and only 5 minutes until my bus to Uijeonbu departed, I stumbled over to the info desk and babbled about how I couldn't figure out the phone and needed notify my ride that I'd be getting on the bus. The pretty Korean lady with very kind eyes dialed the number for me on her phone and encouraged me to “please, talk now”.

The language barrier is definitely going to be the biggest hurdle for me. It sounds stupid, but I never realized quite how much I read and communicate with others one a daily basis. I've been working on pronouncing, not reading, just pronouncing, “thank you” (gamsahamnida) for the past four hours. I'm almost offended by my own ignorance.

This is what I feel like:

(Source: http://bit.ly/ghTTnK: Fish Out Of Water: Mugshot by PJ Taylor Photo)

This experience makes me feel guilty for never volunteering at the literacy network. It is one of the things I'm going to do when I get back home. Just teaching someone read the bus stop sign or to say “Can you help me, please?” could lift a mountain of stress off their shoulders.

That's all for now. Thanks for stopping by. Please check back as I'll be updating the about section, the blog roll, and also probably changing the layout to make it more photo friendly. Wish me luck in my reading and speaking adventures.