Guess Again

I was eating lunch today with my co-workers in the cafeteria, as usual. The food is almost the same every day: rice, a variety of soup, kimchi (I always leave it), some cold gross vegetable, and the main dish, which changes each day.

Today's main dish was spongy dark tube. "What is it?" I asked my co-teacher.

"Do you really want to know?" she said.

Did I really want to know?

"Y-yes," I said.

She said the Korean name for the food, then added, "Normally, it's pig intestines."

Stop.

"Normally," she continued. "But this isn't the real thing. This is an imitation of {Korean word} made from noodles and flour."

"Oh." Relief. Not pig intestines. Not monkey brains or sheep testicles. Just flour. Thank God. Then something occurred to me: "Why is it black if it's made from noodles and flour?"

"Well, in Korea we make flour from many other things. Like potatoes, for instance."

"Oh," I said.

"But that's not why it's so dark," she said. "It's dark because they put pig blood in it."

Itaewon & Gangnam

Today I went to Itaewon. I've only been there once before, when I first visited Korea in December. After spending most of my time in Bucheon, anytime I head into the big city I feel like I'm trippin balzac. It's like I've forgotten there are other people besides Koreans. Going to Itaewon, the foreigner neighborhood in Seoul, is even more overkill. It's an international slice, but a very biased slice. A lot of the people look military, and even the older white women - you know they're military wives.

Interspersed among the military (mainly whites and blacks) you find Indians. I saw some Indian restaurants that I've got to try. I'm starting to forget things like Indian food.

But then you walk a little off the beaten track and suddenly there's a fucking mosque! WTF? Nothing looks more out of place in Korea. Also some Russian restaurants and other shit. I found the English bookstore "What the Book?" and bought a used Bill Peet book for my classes: The Caboose Who Got Loose.

But before I went to Itaewon I was in Gangnam and got . . .



Mexican food! Fuck yeah!

I had trouble finding Dos Tacos at first. Then I asked a white guy and he and his girlfriend went there with me. He was a Canadian, she was Korean, and I love that us being English teachers is enough commonality to hang out in Korea. I feel like I lose my uniqueness when I venture into Seoul, but it's still fun. The burrito and horchata were quite good - I've had better, definitely, but it was pretty good considering the distance from Mexico.

I also bought Korean condoms today, banana flavored:

"Ausung is not only for you, but also for the one most care. Ausung goes along with your responsibility, love, and pleasure. For our beautiful sex."

Everywhere I see horrible English like this. Yes, and it also says "concoms" on the packaging. Hmm.

Right next to the condoms was a bottle of liquid that looked like lube. I bought it, but when I got home and smelled it I'm not so sure. It smells like lighter fluid or something. I don't think I want it near my genitalia until I have it translated.

After spending a few days locked up doing heavy writing, it was good to tutor this morning then get out of the house. I want to go to Seoul at least two or three times this week. I'll try to post pictures.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I was thinking of movies that would probably be made in the next few years. For superheroes I thought, "The Flash" - there's never been a good Flash movie made. And for remakes I thought, "The A-Team" - that's begging to be adapted to film.

Then I looked on imdb and, of course, they're both in production. We're at the point where everything is converted into every medium and remade and recycled until it's soylent green all the way down.

Thank God.

So Close, So Far

Tonight I went to Hongdae in Seoul to meet with one of the Korean girls I knew in America. I specifically picked this neighborhood because there is a Mexican restaurant there, and I haven't eaten Mexican food in over a month (major tragedy). I got off work at 4:30 and caught a train, getting there half hour before the girl, scoping out the neighborhood. I found the Mexican restaurant and checked out the menu (made my mouth water), and couldn't wait to return with my friend.

I might want to mention that this girl hates Mexican food. I didn't really care about her opinion, knowing I could easily subvert her to my will. But then I got a text from her that says she's bringing a friend. I winced, feeling my plan crumble. One Korean I could convince to eat Mexican food - but two was probably impossible. Because Koreans are raised on kimchi and athlete's foot soup, their taste buds work as well as Stephen Hawking's legs.

The girls arrived and I tried to steer them to Dos Tacos (the Mexican place), but they weren't having it. I considered pretending to receive a text message - some sudden emergency - must leave immediately - and go to Dos Tacos alone. But I stayed and we ate duck and pork and soup - which was okay, but my stomach craves the texture of pinto or black beans. At the grocery store the bean selection is pretty 'tarded: either red kidney beans, what I usually get, or these heavily sauced pork and beans that just aren't my style. Or Asian beans. You get the point. I was really looking forward to a fat burrito, and now I'll have to wait for another day.

*

Today at work I was in the teacher's lounge alone. I'm usually the only one in the teacher's lounge because everyone else is downstairs at their desk doing shit on the computer or teaching a class. Not only do I like the teacher's lounge because of the silent, solitary atmosphere, but there's also a couch. This weather makes me feel like I'm constantly drugged - like I have the blunt senses of smoking a ton of weed - without any of the positive feelings. When I wake up in the morning it's like I'm floating through a warm sponge.

Anyway, so I like to lie down in the teacher's lounge on the couch, sometimes falling into a light sleep. I keep a piece of paper in my hand in case somebody walks in, and yesterday that's exactly what happened. I was just about to fall asleep when the door opens. It's one of the tech guys from next door. He sees me hard at work (just lying down) and says, "Lunchee?" - the perennial sign that it's time for lunch. "Oh yeah, yeah!" I said. "I was just about to head down." He goes to use the restroom. I go down to the cafeteria where some of the staff is eating. I grab a tray to get food. Then one of my co-teachers calls my name from the end of the hall. "Adam! You're supposed to be teaching a class!"

I put the tray down. Oh yeah, the schedule has been changed to shorten the days so the kids don't have to suffer in the heat of the classroom and the school doesn't have to waste a lot of electricity on air conditioning.

I followed my co-teacher to the classroom. What class is this? What am I teaching? Who am I?

Oh yeah, handwriting. Easy. Barely any talking to do. I teach them the cursive alphabet in a half-awake daze, and then I really get to go to lunch.

Oh, so back to my original point: I was in the teacher's lounge today lying down, when I hear voices in the hall outside. I bolt upright and look engaged in planning the summer program. The door to the lounge opens and a teacher comes in with three students (boys). The teacher points to a table across the room and the boys have to write a paper or something as punishment. The teacher leaves them there.

As they're working, I get a text message and my phone chirps or whatever the hell it does. The boys light up, realizing I have a phone (I didn't when I started working at the school). The boys take out their cell phones and come over to me: "What is your phone number?" they ask.

"Uhhhhhhh..." I say, unsure of the protocol behind this. Do teachers in Korea give students their cell phone number? "Later," I say. "Finish working."

I'd planned to ask the other teachers about it because it wasn't the first time the kids have asked for my cell number. I asked my Korean friends at dinner tonight and they said it's normal.

However, the kids treat me different from the other teachers. I can't walk down the hall without them shouting my name, waving, telling me I'm handsome and that they love me... and many other things that would freak me out in America but which are normal here. I'm the only teacher they do this for, and I thought it would wear off after a week or two, but it hasn't. Maybe it's because I'm the only teacher that doesn't punish the kids Korean style. The worst thing I do if they're messing around is drag them to the front of the class and have them act as my helper, or test them on the check board. They hate going in front of the group like that, but at least I don't rap them on the skull or make them hold a soccer ball above their head for ten minutes or hit them with a stick. All the other male teachers do some kind of archaic punishment, and some of the female teachers too. I also don't talk down to the kids the way they do. There's something very 1950s about Korea. I can't imagine what it will look like in fifty years.

So the point: I don't want kids calling me all the time!

Anyway I'm rambling and have a headache and it's hot and I'm going to bed to end it for a while.

The Omnivore's Dilemma

I was expecting a whiny Bay Area style Organic vs. Big Business book about food. Instead Pollan makes the situation far more complicated and now I don't know what to eat. I thought he'd make vegetarian out as the saintliest way to eat a meal. That's not necessarily the case. He even goes hunting wild animals and shoots a pig which he later eats and serves to his comrades.

What really intrigues me is how the military-industrial complex extends its fingers into the nation's food supply. I already knew U.S. farmers get fat government subsidies. But the effect it has (especially corn farms) upon the world economy and how it creates bizarre feedback loops is staggering, nauseating, perplexing. How you turn such a feedback loop off is the million dollar question.

Let's put food politics aside for a sec. Because you can't deny this book is well written. It's one of the few nonfiction audiobooks I've heard that makes me want to read the text as well. Pollan tells a good story. That's all I want from any book. It's a fat 13-hour narrative that I listened to going to work each day and I feel like an entire layer of the U.S. onion had been peeled away.

People want to eat good food and not destroy the planet and their health in the process. Why is that so hard to do?