Extreme Sushi 101

I’ve come to a point in my life where the age-old maxim ‘don’t play with your food’ has little or no meaning for me. Come on, I’m an adult now – I don’t blow bubbles in my milk anymore (come to mention it though… that was fun). And then along came yesterday, and I had to relearn the phrase all over again.

You see…

I’ve done it! I’ve eated sannakji! With equal parts regret and relief, I thought I’d go my entire stint in Korea without trying this notorious South Korean delicacy. But such was not to be. Yesterday, for the first time, I ate live octopus.

OK wait! Before you go and call PETA, let me explain. It actually wasn’t alive. I really don’t hold for that sort of thing. From what I’ve been told, it’s called ‘live octopus’ because the nerves in the separate tentacles are still firing a bit, even after being cut up. That being said, it’s still unsettling to see a mass of squirming tentacles on a plate, each trying to pull its way onto the table. It’s even more unsettling when it twirls its way around your chopstick.

Apparently there have been (rare) cases where people have been choked by the tentacles as they try to grasp onto their eater’s throats, so I made sure to chew mine extremely thoroughly. That being said, the tentacles did try to latch onto my teeth a bit, which was…

…really weird.

In case you were wondering, it actually ended up tasting pretty good. Actually, not a whole lot of flavor – just a bit salty and rubbery, so it’s good (as with any sashimi, I find), to dip it in soy sauce and wasabi.

Nakji wasn’t the only sashimi I ate, however. Aside from the octopus, I ate some requisite fish as well, and I can say without a doubt that it was the freshest sashimi I’d ever eaten. No one could think of the English name for the fish, but its flesh looked a bit like cod or maybe mackerel. Regardless, only minutes before eating, it was swimming in a tank. And then voila! it was laid out, cut up in neat little rows on a plate, and ready for downing.

As well as this standard sashimi, I also tried some sort of… I don’t know what. Again, no one could really explain what it was in English, but it looked like a bright orange urchin or something. Anyway, I ate its insides. It looked a bit like cheey tortellini actually. It was… not the best. Pretty much like eating a cold mouthful of saltwater, with traces of sugar. Yeah.

So anyway, as a sushi fan to other sushi fans, I felt I had to report this little excursion of mine to the world. Take it for what you will.

Channelling Ulysses

I think, perhaps, I have a problem processing time. A serious problem. You see, I’m leaving this continent in 17 days, and yet I don’t really ‘get it’ yet. Less than three weeks left in Korea, but it feels as though I’ve got months. Not in necessarily a bad ‘ohmygodthisistakingforever’ sort of way, but in the hazy sort of way where something is so far in the future that it scarcely bears mentioning. But there it is. I’m homeward bound on March 2nd!

This may come as a surprise to some of you, especially since my last blog post was rather more than a month ago. I suppose, though, that not much of significance has happened between then and now. Let’s see…

*    *    *

As I believe I mentioned in my last post, January was the Intensives month, in which arguably-insane parents enlisted their children into yet more classes each day. So… that was tough. But it’s over now, thank God and good riddance. As a ‘last hurrah’ of sorts, a few of the teachers chaperoned some of the kids at a piano concert on the last night of the Intensives. It wasn’t any old piano concert, though. This one showcased the talents of Hee Ah Lee, an inspiring South Korean pianist with only four fingers (two on each hand). Born like this, as well as with no legs below her kneecaps, she went on to become an amazing classical pianist. Suffice to say, she was very inspiring, and I think the kids all really enjoyed her as well.

Last weekend, I helped out at a workshop at our school, in which we made bows and arrows. I’m not talking about taking a flimsy stick from your backyard and tying a string to both ends, either. These things were pretty legit. We started with long split halves of bamboo, and fastened a couple of them together with special string and glue (author’s note: don’t get superglue on your hands. Turns out it has an UNBELIEVABLY apt name.). After that, we took a bunch of lengths of fine string, wound them together tightly, and then rubbed the entirety in wax. After that, the wound-up string was rubbed briskly with some rough paper to create friction. It heated the wax to such an extent that it melted and soaked into the bow string, lending it strength and durability. Lastly, the ends of the bow were notched, and the bow curved so as to accomodate the bowstring. Suffice it to say that the kids’ bows were pretty small, and the arrows were only pieces of dowling with suction cups on the ends, but it was still pretty cool. I made a larger bow for myself afterwards and, I’ll damn well say, it was pretty sweet. Legolas would be proud. Now if only I could shoot worth beans…

*    *    *

So here we are. Two and a half weeks left, and it’s only very subtly sinking in that I’m almost done. In fact, I’m staying here a bit longer than originally in my contract; had I stuck with a year on the dot, I’d be flying out next Monday! Have I seen all that I’ve wanted to see? Pretty much. I’d still like to see the DMZ, but that’s not entirely out of the question in the next two weeks. Have I learned all that I wanted to learn? Coming with no real expectations of what I would or should learn here, I’d have to answer to the affirmative. I’ve run the gammut numerous times when it comes to teaching, though perhaps in a more sink-or-swim atmosphere than preferred. I should have liked to have learned a tad more Korean than I have, but that’s life. Chances are that I know more Korean that YOU do, so there is that Have I immersed myself in Korean culture to maximum capacity? Again, pretty much. Obviously a year is not a lifetime, and I think there are aspects of every culture that one can only truly understand over the course of many years and decades, if not an entire life. I also think, however, that a year is an excellent amount of time to become something more than just a check-list tourist who imbibes merely the superficialities and wow-factors of a place. To understand a people other than your own, you’ve got to live with them, and not just stay at their hotels and drink their martinis.

Not to intentionally single any place out, but the above sentiment is why vacationing in places like Mexico has never held much appeal for me. Not because I disdain the culture, but because the vast majority of holidays there entail staying at oppulent bubbles of Americana, and remaining ignorant of the real lifestyles of the country’s inhabitants. I realize I’m painting with broad strokes, and there are certainly ways to circumvent this, but I suppose I’m just trying to say that to ‘get’ another culture, you can’t just pass through and snap a few token pictures. You’ve got to live there for a while. Reside in a place not your own for long enough, and you will inevitably be gifted with insight and empathy for how others live. Of course, this isn’t, and doesn’t necessarily have to be the main purpose of trips and holidays…

Korea’s not a perfect country by any means, nor is any country on Earth. It has its perks and pitfalls, benefits and banes. I’m glad I came over here, however, and I think, or hope, that I’ve learned more valuable things than simply how to ask ‘where is the washroom?’ in Korean. What are these things? Hard to put into words, perhaps, and I think I’ll just let this question hang on account of my inarticulation, and for suspense. I also hope that I’ve made an impression on at least a few of my students, and that NathanTeacher won’t melt from their memories as swiftly as the last snow.

I think my philosophical wax is wearing thin, and it’s about time, since I’m nearing the end of this post. I hope I haven’t come across implying that vacations for vacations’ sake are bad, because they’re freaking not! In fact, I’m planning another excursion of my own, shortly after I depart from Korea. You may have heard of this little place called Europe? Quite popular these days, from what I hear. Anyway, I’ve felt a yearning to travel there extensively for quite a time, and I’m finally at the point where I have both the time and resources to do so. Considering that A) this is as good a chance as I’ll ever get, and B) I have a terrible fear of languishing in my later years over the things I never did when I was young and able, I’ve decided to go for it. England, France, Italy… and more! As well, I finally have a chance to somewhat validate my degree in Classical Studies! Rome and Pompeii, I’m looking at you.

This all brings to mind a passage from one of my favourite poems:

I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vest the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments…
(Ulysses, Alfred Lord Tennyson)

Brash and pedantic, yes, but inspiring nonetheless. And so on that note, I must away. But don’t worry, I’m not done blogging yet! In fact, I daresay I’ll have one or two more things to say about Korea before I depart. In the meantime, however… well I WAS going to give you a parting gift in the form of a video of  some choreographed dancing robots I happened across at the Seoul Train Station. HOWEVER, I sadly cannot upload any videos here beyond a laughably small size, so go use your imagination. Capiche?

Winter in Korea – Query Style

Yes I know, we’re only a few weeks into Winter, so my title is slightly deceptive, but… whatever. Below is a list of questions which, I think, should accurately sum up my time here lately. Thus:

Do they celebrate Christmas in Korea?

Umm, sort of? Not really. A few of my students said they had Christmas trees, and opened presents on Christmas Day, but the vast majority did little to mark the occasion. In terms of how my own Christmas was, let it suffice to say that it was unorthodox. Certainly it was my least Christmassy Christmas yet. There was a marked lack of Christmas decorations or music in the city, though I’ve heard that Seoul was a bit more decorative. We had a Christmas ‘party’ of sorts at school on the Friday beforehand, wherein the students made Christmas crafts while the teachers supervised them and listened to Michael Bublé’s Christmas ad nauseum. Afterwards, the teachers had their own party, in which a lot of eating and drinking ensued.

All my students are such amazing artists!...

Aside from everybody Skyping with their respective families, us foreign teachers had our own ‘Christmas’ on Christmas Day, which consisted of going out for, of all things, Indian food. Surprisingly, the place we ate at served some of the best Indian cuisine I’ve had the pleasure of eating!

OK, how about New Years?

Also no. At least, Koreans don’t celebrate the Solar New Year. Last Saturday went by unmarked. As in many other Asian countries, however, the Lunar New year is kind of a big deal. I might even liken it to the North American Christmas, in terms of holiday magnitude. Everyone gets four days off, and it’s a big focal point for family gatherings and parades and suchlike. This year it’s on January 23rd. Only a few more weeks till the long weekend!

To be honest, it ain't that cold.

What’s the weather like there?

Fairly temperate, at least from my point of view. This is apparently the coldest winter it’s been here in quite some time (just as 2011 was the hottest summer), but being from Canada, I beg to differ. It’s snowed here fairly frequently since Christmas, but I doubt the temperature’s dropped anywhere below -5 celsius. Everything’s relative, of course, but it’s no colder here than in Vancouver, one of Canada’s mildest cities. It was a pleasant surprise when it snowed for the first time here on Christmas Eve. It made the landscape prettier, but the roads more treacherous. Even moreso, since many drivers here seem to have a strange dislike for following the most basic rules of the road. Red lights, U-turns, you name it. So it goes. Thankfully, I don’t need to take to the roads much.

An aquatic stalactite.

Have you made a New Years Resolution?

No. I don’t really go in for that sort of thing. If you’re serious about improving some aspect of yourself, isn’t it counterproductive to procrastinate doing so until some arbitrary day?

What have your students been up to lately?

Well, they’re on their Winter Break now, which means they don’t have to go back to public school until February. Obviously, this means their parents have only enrolled them in *more* private academies! For the teachers, this means we teach more classes and longer hours, during these aptly-named ‘Intensives’. Fortunately extra pay comes hand-in-hand with this. Regardless, it’s rather tiring. On my longest day, I teach eleven classes, and I’m probably teaching an average of 60 different kids per day.

DID YOU KNOW: In Korea, people say 'kimchi!' instead of 'cheese!' during photos. For real.

It’s interesting to note the trends of toys that fade in and out of fashion at school. Right now, everyone is psychotically obsessed with Angry Birds. Seriously, they all have every piece of Angry Birds stationery imaginable, not to mention having a few students adamant on changing their names to Angry Birds. (On a side note, I managed to convince one of my new students to choose the name of Mario. Here’s hoping that Luigi comes soon!) The boys all seem to be addicted to ‘Dokji’ here, which is basically the Korean equivalent of the ‘Pogs’ everyone used to play about fifteen years ago in Canada. Go figure.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. What are some funny things the kids have done lately?

Well, I always get a kick out of how much the kids lack censorship in the anecdotes they tell me. For instance, a few days ago, one of my students pulled out her phone and showed me a picture of her grandpa. He was sprawled asleep on the floor after, she said, drinking too much Soju (an alcohol)! As well, Star Wars is (sadly) widely unknown here, but I’ve discovered that a couple of students are still obsessed with it. They get quite a kick out of wookie sounds I’ve been training to master over the last few years.

Did Kim Jong-Il’s death have much of an impact in Korea?

Not as much as you’d expect. As one might imagine, it was certainly the talk of Korea for a few days, and news coverage of the event was plastered on every TV set. Not unexpected by now, most of my kids knew way more about it than myself. “Teacher, did you know Kim Jong-Il dead from heart on train ride at eight o’clock today?” utters one student hours after the event. Aside from the funeral, discussion seemed to evanesce fairly quickly, however, and it’s rarely brought up any more (at least in English-speaking circles).

How much longer will you be in Korea?

Less than two months! It’s rather incomprehensible how quickly time has gone by in some ways, and how slowly it’s gone in others. It still seems like it was last week that I stepped off the plane and into the mind-bogglingly non-English airport of Incheon. And yet in early March, I’ll be making the return trip already!

I’m bored, Nathan. What are some good entertainment recommendations?

Well, I may be teaching a crazy lot these days, but I still somehow find time for things outside of work. These are some items which have occupied me lately:

Novels: ‘Spin’ by Robert Charles Wilson, and ‘Brothers Karamozov’ by Fyodor Dostoyevsky.
Songs: ‘Helplessness Blues’ by the Fleet Foxes, and ‘Sigh No More’ by Mumford & Sons.
Movies: ‘Rise of the Planet of the Apes’ and ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II’.
Video games: ‘Skyrim’ and ‘Dreamfall – The Longest Journey’.

What is the meaning of life, the universe, and everything?

Seriously? 42.

That is all.

Twas some time before Christmas…

Ladies and gents, I apologize in advance.

Just sayin’…

*****

Twas some time before Christmas, a vague number of days,
The post offices crammed full of stress and delays.
Stores were abuzz – what was said? No idea.
You see, I was having Christmas in Korea!

I was all nestled up close with my laptop,
Trying to shake from my head: tunes of K-Pop.
Mom had just signed off of Skype, so had Dad.
Wow, I thought to myself, my rhymes are so bad!

When out in the parking lot, there ‘rose such a din,
I sprang from the floor and, alarmed, scratched my chin.
Away to the window, like Jumping Jack Flash,
…It was only the garbage truck, come for the trash.

Neon street signs shone on the snowless black road
As the garbagemen finished and lifted their load.
Then – damn! – a distant car alarm did I hear,
At this rate – I thought – I won’t sleep till next year!

I threw on a coat, neither lively nor drole,
If I couldn’t get to sleep, then I’d go for a strole.
I stepped out as my door went BEEP BEEP in farewell.
I’d forgotten my gloves back inside, but… oh what the hell.

It was not even that cold, I thought, for Pete’s Sake!
I’d barely seen any snow in this land – not a flake!
Maybe ’twas for the best, and I tried not to shiver,
I’d actually left my tuque way back in Vancouver.

As dry leaves that before… wait! There are none of those here,
This poem is going into left field – oh dear..
And so I continued my walk ’till I saw
A yellow circle of light – a place of pizza!

And then, my eyes twinkling, I headed on in
And ordered the ‘Bulgogi’ large, ready in ten.
“Oh-chon won imneda,” the man said, who I ‘ssumed was the boss.
Holy crap! I just understood what was the cost!

The man’s apron reflected the bright kitchen lights,
As he switched the TV to English – that was nice!
As I waited I heard in the background a song,
A Christmas tune I had not heard in too long.

“But wait!” You might ask, “Was it really in English?”
Heck yes, it was. And… not much rhymes with English.
Ugh, another song came on, this time by some crooner.
Then my pizza was done – it could not have come sooner!

My walk home was lit by a whole jumble of lights,
But, to my dismay, no green or red in sight!
Reflective, I scratched my chin (I should shave)
and looked up to see a sillhouette far ahead wave.

One of my students, I noted, they neared with a smile
“Hello, teacher!” they yelled, running past all the while.
I wondered briefly what Christmas was like in their home,
whether they’d presents or tree – depends on Dad and Mom.

Christmas is not such a big thing over here.
Sure lots of people still have holiday cheer,
But this is Korea, not Canada, and differences abound,
Each to their own, though it’s nice to have Santa ’round.

I opened my door, hands begging for the heater,
and finished my poem, with no respect for its meter.
It’s unorthodox, yes, and not all that kind to the ear,
Anyway, Merry Christmas and see you next year!

*****

Author’s note: I think I just got my poetic license revoked. Damn.

How are you?… MONDAY!

What follows is a series of vignettes about the hijinks my students get up to on a typical day:

Beowulf was a macho monster-slayer from an ancient Norse epic of the same name. This gory and action-packed poem is pretty much the best thing to come out of Old English, in my opinion, and I’ve read it at least five times in various classes. I had not, however, even heard of it until first year of university. All of this just makes it more awesome that I got to teach Beowulf to a bunch of ten-year-old boys. Obviously we didn’t read the poem, but we still talked about it, and I’m happy to say that ‘Beowulf’, ‘Grendel’, and ‘Grendel’s Mother’ are now a part of their repertoire. Nice.

The following class, we got to talk about ancient Greek gods. Holy Mt. Olympus, Batman, that’s awesome! Sure it was all strangely Eurocentric, but I had fun teaching it anyway. The kids had actually heard of a number of the gods already from various video games and recent movies like ‘Clash of the Titans’ and ‘Percy Jackson’, but they were enthused nonetheless. Myself no less so, when I successfully convinced them that my father was Zeus, my brother was Poseidon, my sister was Aphrodite, and my uncle was Hades. Oh yes, my best friend was no other than Beowulf  himself, and my mother was Mona Lisa. I can’t guarantee that they bought this whole genealogy for very long, but it was funny while it lasted, and for a few minutes they sincerely believed that I, Nathan, was an heir to the throne of Olympus.

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One of my students in the above class was especially mesmerised by Beowulf in all his gory glory. It turns out he also watches the Korean version of the History Channel, and went on to describe to me in great detail all the different battles he had learned about. This included the Crusades (for which he gave precise dates), Rome’s campaign against Boudica in Britain, the founding of Londinium, and the Battle of Waterloo (or, as he tried to spell it, Wottalu). Mark my words, this kid will go far.

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Speaking tests can often be a time of intense stress and anxiety for students, and I cannot blame them too much when they sometimes blank out during the test and don’t say a thing. Still, just as often, it can lead to some pretty awesome responses to the questions I ask. This semester, I started off many of my tests with the simple question ‘how are you?’. Many students gave one or two-word answers, whilst others’ responses were wildy desultory. Take this boy, for instance:

Me: “How are you today?”

The boy stands up, leans on the desk with his hands, gives a strange grin, and says with some gusto, “MONDAY!”

I suppose he thought I had asked him what day of the week it was, which wouldn’t be so bad, but it was actually Friday anyway.

Another student, albeit at a higher level, responded much differently to the same question:

Me: “How are you today?”

Girl: “Why, I am very good, teacher. And how are you today?” Perfect pronunciation and everything, wow.

For many of the classes I also asked what was their favourite animal. One girl answered, “I want to be a goat keeper.” Ok, not quite to the point, but props to the creativity!

*    *    *

In one class recently, we were talking about the word ‘should’, and the correct contexts for its use. I was asking for examples, and one boy, who’d been rather reticent the whole class, finally raised his hand.

“I should the sleep,” he offered, and then dropped his head to his desk with a clunk. I suppose I should have got him in trouble, but these kids go to school for ~10 hours a day, and then do homework until midnight most nights. As well, it was just a darn awesome sentence.

*    *    *

A week or so ago our school hosted a big Halloween event for all its students. It consisted of students running a gauntlet of sorts between 8 different classrooms, each one manned by a different teacher and featuring a different Halloween event. These activities ranged from ‘mummy wrap’ to ‘mystery boxes’ to ‘scary stories’. I ran the ‘pin the nose on the skeleton’ room (the incorrent anatomy of the game was not lost on me).

All the kids dressed up, many of them in costumes far more elaborate than my own, and this was especially awesome considering they don’t even celebrate Halloween outside of English school! The costumes consisted of an army of Batmen, a couple coven’s-worth of witches, pirates, skeletons, princesses, and a number of ‘Scream mask’ ghosts. From the sounds of it the kids all had a great time. The teachers did as well, though it was rather more draining for us since we had to man our post for four hours straight with no breaks… yikes.

On the upside, I think that I sported my best Halloween costume since my Yoda one a few years ago – this year I was ‘Cap’n Nathan of the Caribbean’, complete with braids, a sword, and a whole lot of bloody scars and stitches. I actually got a number of concerned looks from kids (mostly the girls) who thought my cuts were real! They were very surprised when I came to school the next day with no scars, and with short hair again. One girl even came up to me and peered at me suspiciously. First she pointed to my arms, which the day before had been scored with lacerations. Then she asked, “Teacher… why you no captain? You cut your hair?” Yes I did. Yes I did.

One of the boys took a particular glamour to my glow-in-the-dark sword, so I promised I’d give it to him the next day if he was good in class. All class long, he kept asking excitedly about the sword, and half of the class followed me back to the teacher’s room for the dubbing ceremony. It was interesting, in this age where kids have heaps and heaps of smart phones and video games, that they were so reverent and awed by a cheap plastic toy! It was great.

*    *    *

As always, I am still ‘Gorilla Teacher’ or ‘Monster Teacher’ due to the fact I don’t shave much, and that I actually have arm hair. This is a neverending source of fascination to students. One kid even went so far as to say, “Teacher I want to steal your face. It is a good face!” Emmm… OK… Interesting terminology. I suppose he was especially fascinated by the beard.

*    *    *

One day a few weeks ago, a boy in one of my classes gave the middle finger and said (*gasp*) the ‘F’ word to one of his classmates. I think that when you learn curse words in a second language, they just don’t have the same strength and meaning as saying them in your first language, and I’m not sure this kid even knew that what he was saying was very bad. Regardless, I reamed him out and made him promise to never say it in class again. The girl sitting beside him was, of course, very intrigued by this special word that brought the fell anger of her teacher down upon her classmate. She saw the middle finger, and heard part of the word, and has since been trying to puzzle the rest out. Every so often, she will ask, “Teacher, F3Q is bad?”

To parse it out, ‘F’ is from the beginning of ‘Fuck’, 3 is from the fact that he raised his middle finger, and ‘Q’ is from the end of the phrase ‘fuCK YOU’. Cute, and pretty great ingenuity!

*    *    *

You know how people often carry pictures of their family around with them in their wallets and purses? Well this little girl did them all one better. At the beginning of class one day, she came up to me with an excited look on her face. “Teacher, see my sister!” she exclaimed. Before I could respond, she reached into her purse (I know, right? A nine-year old with a purse???) and pulled out an ultrasound print-out of her (future)sister. Suffice it to say that I didn’t really know how to respond to that.

*    *    *

Many of my students have absolutely no concept of when it is time to talk, and when it’s time to be quiet and listen. One girl, in particular, seems to pick the most random moments to come up to me during class. One time I was going over flashcards with the class, and talking about new vocabulary. At this moment, the girl took it upon herself to leave her seat, walk up to me, and show me her Angry Bird toy.

“Teacher look! Is very cute!” she said with glee. Perplexed, I nodded in agreement and ushered her back to her desk.

Another time, during a test, the same girl called me over and gave me a mandarin orange from her pocket. “Very good,” she lectured, pointing to the orange.

Oranges, however, are only one of the many foods teachers are rewarded with by their students. So far, I have recieved oranges, lollipops, chocolates, crackers, cookies, bread, rice cakes, french fries, waffles, cheesies, chips, money, stickers, origami, vitamins, clay, and gum. I have never been given, however, the quintessential teacher’s apple.

Seafood Choose-Your-Own-Adventure!!!

For whatever reason, you find yourself traveling through Korea and your stomach begins to growl. You suddenly realize you haven’t eaten anything in ages and ages. Three hours at least. After acknowledging this fact, you come to one inevitable conclusion. You’ve got to stuff your gullet, and fast. One hand shading your brow, you briefly scan the horizon. You hear the squall of distant seagulls. What ho! You remember that you’re in a coastal city, and so the prospect of a seafood feast quickly rises in your mind. You notice a half dozen goodly-sized restaurants within a few minutes’ walk. You quickly narrow your options to two eateries, sitting side by side… 1. The first one looks like it’s a run-of-the-mill Korean BBQ, replete with an array of beef, pork, chicken, and duck cuts. 2. The second place has a huge and garishly-painted fish leaping over the entrance – that’s a good sign that they specialize in seafood. At which restaurant will you eat?

1. Why did you pick the BBQ restaurant? You’ve eaten BBQ before, and you just wrecked the whole flow of the narrative. Dude. Go back and pick the second place.

2. Seafood! Excellent choice! You originally chose this restaurant over the copious other seafood dens because of the nimiety of sealife swimming around in buckets outside the front door. That’s a pretty good sign of freshness. As you walk through the door, the wisdom of your decision is supported by the appetizing smells wafting from the restaurant’s interior.

I ate that one. And that one. And... I think that one over there.

You settle down at a table, awkwardly wondering if you should hail the waitress or not. The dilemma is solved when she quickly comes up to you and rattles off a greeting in Korean. Stymied, you smile and nod and point at a few pictures on the menu. There are two or three items which particularly catch your eye. At last, you decide to order… 1. Prawns. 2. An assortment of shellfish. 3. Octopus. Which do you order?

1. You decide to play it safe and order a dish of prawns. Little do you know, it will bring new meaning to the words ‘fresh seafood’. After you point it out on the menu, the waitress smiles and rushes off through the front door. She returns shortly with a big plastic bucket of prawns. Most of them are four inches long or so, and they’re jumping all over the container. Your waitress dumps them all into a large pot sitting atop a portable gas BBQ at your table. She grabs a few prawns, calmly lops their heads off with a pair of scissors, and offers them to you on a plate. They are very large, very raw, and very very active. Will you eat them? 1. Umm… OK maybe I’ll try just one. 2) No. No. Just… no.

1. Fortes fortuna adiuvat, baby! You tentatively try and pick up the prawn to deshell it. It kicks in the air and weirds the hell out of you. Taking a deep breath, you try one more time. OK, you’ve got it in your hand now. After a few very awkward moments, it has been successfully deshelled. The prawn, meanwhile, still very adamantly refuses to be taken without a fight. You pick it up again and try to figure out where to take the first bite. You take a timid nibble. It’s not that bad, really. You eat a bit more. The entire ordeal, you reflect afterwards, has been very unsettling.
2. Whhhha…? You’re afraid of a few headless shrimp? Go back to Sleepy Hollow, Ichabod! Seriously, though, I can’t blame you.

The first of three courses of prawns!

Regardless of your choice, the rest of the prawns remain in the cooking pot, which contains nothing else but a thick lining of salt on the bottom. Your waitress seals it with a lid and turns on the heat. The prawns jump around in such a way that you may never think of popcorn the same way again. Fortunately, their demise is quick and hopefully relatively painless. They swiftly stop moving and turn from grey to a neon orange color. Your waitress comes back after a few minutes, takes the lid off, and starts cutting off all the heads with scissors – these will be eaten later (the heads, not the scissors). You pick up a prawn, deshell it clumsily, and pop it in your mouth. Though only seasoned by the salt in the pot, it tastes delicious! You eat another, and then another. You’ve soon amassed a small mountain of shells, testament to both your hunger and the prawns’ flavor.

You smack your lips in satisfaction – but wait! It is not over yet. Silly foreigner. It’s time to eat the heads. After removing a bit of the shell from the first head (you do so quite proficiently, as you’ve by now had a lot of practice), you pop it in your mouth. Though it’s got a different texture than the body, it’s still pretty good. Eating the eyes is kinda weird though, you think to yourself. Nevertheless, you manage to finish most of the heads as well. You’re now full and satisfied after a delicious meal. Mission accomplished! Now go to option 4. at the bottom.

2. Aha! Though you don’t recognize all of the shellfish in the picture, you’ve enjoyed clams and oysters in the past, so you’re pretty sure that this choice will be a safe bet. Your waitress disappears through the front door and quickly returns with a cornucopia of bivalve goodness. Still dripping from their buckets of brine, she piles all the shellfish onto a grill in the middle of the table and flicks on the BBQ underneath. You stare at them hungrily, watching them cook. For an appetizer, your waitress returns with a small dish of what look to be periwinkles. They are very tiny, and you’re sure you’ve seen them hanging about on rocks at the beach before. Will you try some? 1. Sure, why not. 2. I’ll pass.

Bivalves are your friends. Unless you're allergic to them.

1. You pick one up, and it almost slips through your fingers. It’s smaller than you thought! With a shrug of your shoulders, you bring it to your lips and give it a suck. The little bivalve inside comes loose and slides right down your throat. So small that you barely tasted it! That wasn’t so bad…
2. Wimp. We’re not talking any more.

She sells seashells by the seashore. She sells sheshell - damnit.

At last, the rest of the shellfish are done! You start with some clams, mussels, and oysters. Familiar territory and all that. Though not seasoned with anything, they’re still delicious, with a delightful BBQ taste from the grill. You’re not entirely used to chop sticks yet so you have a bit of trouble picking them from their shells, but you manage to cope. Next, you decide to be a bit braver. You notice a few conch-like shells that would have been at home in Lord of the Flies if only they were a bit bigger. You’ve got to hold these guys down with one hand in order to pick out the meat, but they’re still searing hot! You mutter a curse. Noting your frustration, your waitress brings over a glove to shield your hand. Now appropriately armoured, you take on the conch once more. Though packing a lot more meat than the mussels and clams, it still tastes very similar, which is to say, good. Your gluttony is almost at an end when you notice that a few choice shells still remain on the grill. Scallops. Score! With great enthusiasm, you pick them off and gulp them down. Double plus good! If you were wearing a belt, you would unbuckle it for want of stomach space, and if you were wearing a hat, you would take it off in thanks for a delicious meal. Mission accomplished! Now go to option 4. at the bottom.

Aside: Did you know that scallops can 'swim' through the water?

3. The waitress nods and ambles out the front door. After a short time, she returns with a few baby octopods in a bucket, which she takes into the back room. She returns with the octopods on a plate, very much uncooked, and for all intents and purposes, very much still alive. Though they’ve been cut up, the nerves in the tentacles make them wriggle like worms on the plate. If you’re from a Western country, then it’s probably fair to say that you’ve never had something quite this… vivacious on your plate before. You steel your own nerves, tentatively pick one up with your chopsticks, and lift it to your mouth.

Author’s note: Yeah… I’ve never actually eaten this, so you’re on your own now. After you down the octopus, go to option 4. at the bottom.

4. I hope your imaginary hunger was sated in some way, or at least that you learned something from this adventure. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and this adventure is no exception. Or is it? All of a sudden, you feel an uncontrollable desire to scroll to the top of the blog and start your adventure OVER AGAIN! What MADNESS is THIS? Are you STUCK reading and rereading an AWESOME blog about a fictional SEAFOOD adventure for ALL eternity? Yes probably. Bon appétit!

A muse… um… about museums!

Lately, my students have forced me into an unsettling realization. My generation’s advantage to growing up in the digital world is swiftly growing obsolete. I’ve always considered myself pretty tech-savvy. Maybe I don’t know how to overclock my CPU or build a PC from scratch, but I’m no luddite (a term which is frustratingly misunderstood, and here I am perpetuating its misuse. So it goes.). I was monitoring a ‘book club’ at my school, wherein I was helping students print off book reports to do. I was having trouble printing the reports from online, however, until one nine-year-old girl came up and solved the problem in ten seconds flat. Gee, um, thanks. Cue walk of shame. Granted, the entire website was in Korean, but… I’d thought I’d learned my way around it by then. That’s not even mentioning how frequently one of my eight or nine-year-old students will come up to me to show off their new Galaxy Pad or iPhone, while I’m still pecking at my old-school flip phone like a hungry chicken. Tis humbling.

I have noticed that my students all seem to have the same repertoire of questions they like to ask teachers.

1) “Teacher, you LOVE?”, whilst holding up their hand and looking pointedly at their ring finger. Read: “Teacher, are you married?”
2) “Teacher, what is blood type?”… um yeah. I don’t really know where they got this one, but it’s a strangely common question.
3) “Teacher, why you furry like monster?”… I guess a five-o’clock shadow is a foreign concept to them.
4) “Teacher, why are you no… (at this point, they point their arms like a machine gun and make shooting sounds)?”

Plaza of the War Memorial.

Apparently (though I perhaps ought to have learnt this by now), all Korean men must enlist in the army for two years. As such, the students are curious as to why this weguk teacher has never been in the army! Many of them are astounded when I tell them that no one has to enlist in Canada, let alone the fact that Canada barely has a military to begin with, at least compared to South Korea’s rank as 6th largest army in the world. It’s strange to think that in Canada I lived only an hour from the world’s longest undefended border. Now, I live only a few hours by train from the world’s most heavily defended one. Stranger still, to think that I’m now in a country that is technically at war with it’s neighbour (at least semantically speaking), and has been for sixty-odd years.

Recreation of a Korean turtle ship, excepting the TV.

This leads me to my new topic. Museums (please forgive my lame pun in this post’s title)! I’ve been continuing doing my circuit of museums in Seoul. One of the best things about museums here is that (at least all the ones I’ve been to) they are all free! Props to governent funding (got that, Canada? *wink wink, nudge, nudge*)! Yesterday I visited the War Memorial of Korea (read: War Museum). I thought it was very well done, covering Korea’s military history from prehistoric times to the present day (they even had an exhibit about the sinking of the S Korean battleship last year). Highlights for me were the medieval weaponry, such as the hwacha, which could fire dozens of arrows at once (made famous on Mythbusters). I hadn’t realized gunpowder was used in Korea as early as 1104 AD. I also appreciated the nimiety of textual documentation on the Korean War, such as the original documents covering the North Korean invasion, various ammendments about UN involvement, and the armistice papers. What rubbed me the wrong way, though, was when I discovered a giant funpark for kids in the middle of the complex, containing the highest concentration of inflatable buildings I’ve ever seen. In a war museum. Just a wee bit tacky.

UN resolution letter on the day of the initial N Korean invasion.

I also recently visited the National Museum of Korea.  It’s a pretty neat place. It has a huge ornamental garden with lots of pagodas and tombs to see, before you even enter the museum proper. The museum itself is apparently the sixth largest in the world, area-wise, which is pretty impressive. It suffices to say that it took a while for me to walk through. It features predominantly Korean history, all the way from the paleolithic period through to the end of the Joseon dynasty and the early twentieth century. Tons and tons of Buddhist paintings and statuary and ceramics. Personally, I have a bent towards ancient weaponry, of which there was thankfully enough to sate me.

Giant pagoda inside the National Museum of Korea.

From a co-teacher at school, I learned that there was an honest-to-goodness English bookstore in Seoul, and so I went on a mission to find it. It’s located in the Itaewan (foreigners’) district, and it goes by the terribly awesome name of ‘What the Book’? I went in just to browse, and I came out with six books. Graphic novels! Sci fi! New releases! Nietzsche for three bucks a pop! I was pleased.

After four months of sweltering in sauna-like humidity, the wait is over! It is finally autumn! The leaves are changing colors, and the days are sunny and brisk. Nice and bracing. Though apparently it’s uncomfortably cold by the standards of some of my Korean colleagues, I quite fancy this colder clime. Huzzah! Up until last week, however, the heat was nothing if not tenacious. This summer was unexpectedly warm, and the heat wave lasted longer than the Korean Power Exchange had predicted. As such, on one particularly balmy day, huge chunks of Korea lost power because of the overuse of AC! Most of Korea, apparently, is powered by one company, and while it’s not entirely on the same grid, significant parts of it are. Much of Cheonan lost power, as did Seoul, and many other large cities up and down the country. It happened in the middle of class, so we had to use flashlights and our auxilliarly lights to teach class for a good two hours before regaining electricity. I was fine with it – I probably would have broken down in tears if my PC had been in some way fried during the outage though. Just sayin’.

What the book??

In regards to cuisine, I have continued broadening my horizons – this time, on the insect front. Silkworm larvae, to be precise. I cannot vouch for them being in any way delectable, but I’m obviously speaking with a Western bias. It’s strange that insects are so frequently regarded as anathema to Western cuisine, when really they are more plentiful and much cheaper than their vertebrate alternatives. Regardless, the larvae were marinated in some spicy sauce, so I didn’t really taste them. Crunchy on the outside, with a bean-like consistency inside. Worth a try just to say you’ve eaten insects, at the very least.

Korean phrase of the day:

“Sungsangnim” – ‘teacher’.

Calvin & Hobbes: Korean Edition

I have apparently been neglecting this whole blog thing recently, and so I figured I should update it before it ends up on the Lost Isle of Forgotten Blogs or something. Anyway, I’m going to eschew the regular post and let my kids do the talking (or writing, as the the case may be). Thus.

As any self-respecting Monty Python fan would admit, I love a bit of randomness injected into my humour. Korean kids might well be next-gen Python fans, because they’ve got randomness down to an art.

Case in point:

We’re talking about jobs and careers in class, and I ask what everyone wants to be when they grow up. Amidst a flurry of kids shouting ‘doctor!’, ‘vet!’, and ‘teacher!’, one boy at the back of class tentatively raises his hand. When it comes to his turn, he says ‘I want to be a NOODLE!’ with what I take for complete honesty.

In another class, we are on a page in our book where the students all put stickers on appropriate regions of the page. In the middle of this activity, one girl walks up to me with a strange grin on her face. “Teacher,” she says, “Only seven stickers…” I ask her where she thinks her eighth sticker might be. Licking her lips, she says, “Teacher! Eating!”

I think I believed her.

In another class, I gave each student a bunch of blanked out comic strips taken from Calvin & Hobbes and Dinosaur Comics. This is their story (I apologize for the graininess of some of the shots):

What? No!

Hahaha! Kneel my feet under!!

...and I'm confused.

Korean kids will say 'crazy' at whatever chance they can get.

Your face.

I'm a verry Italian!

Well the kids are always hungry in class, but still...

He he he

I am at a loss at the fact that he knows what 'I am at a loss' means!

...but all Korean kids have phones!

I hope you have enjoyed your short stay. Please come back soon! A more proper post will come shortly. Hopefully. Relatively speaking.

Indiana Nate and the Palace of Gyeongbokgung

A long, tired screech of metal and the subway grinds to a halt. I yawn, crick my back, and shuffle off with the rest of the passengers, backpack hung indifferently off one shoulder. Yes, I try to convince myself. It will be a good day. Lots of sights to see, things to do. But… did I really have to get up so early? It’s the Monday of a long weekend, and I’m already in Seoul at 9:30 in the morning! I yawn again and drag myself onto the nearest escalator. I stand in place, stupefied and heavy-lidded. Museums are all well and good, but come on! Bed and sleep are also good things. Oh well. I glance at the yellow and blue sign above me – half in Korean, half in English. Gyeongbokgung Station, Exit 5. Nice! I’m almost there. I blink several times and step off the escalator.

I am met by six grim-faced policemen standing at perfect attention, shields, body armour, and helmets donned. Well this is interesting! There are more men standing guard at all the escalators and exits into and out of the station. Curious!

I shrug to myself and walk past. I no longer feel drowsy. I walk up the first flight of steps leading to the street. At the top of these stairs is another contingent of police, maybe twenty-odd men. Dressed all in black, they sit on their shields, looking bored but intimidating nonetheless. Curiouser and curiouser!

Up one more flight and I emerge under a leaden sky. What ho! Even more riot police! There are now dozens and dozens of them – probably a hundred all told – standing at strict attention. With their armour, shields, and helms, their similarity to a centurion of Roman legionaries is not lost on me. With so many riot police, all with such stony expressions, I would be well within my rights to be slightly concerned. In fact, I’d be stupid not to be. But I’m not, really. Intrigued? Yes. Anxious? No. In my defence, the other commuters exiting the train station seemed to pay them no mind, and my destination was literally around the corner. And so, retrospectively regretting having not taken any pictures of them, I leave the policemen to their day as I go about mine.

Looking through the first gate to downtown Seoul.

The rest of my day was action-packed, and thankfully riot-free. In fact, there were no riots at all; I expect that, since it was Korean Independence Day, the police were merely being overly cautious. Still, it was an exciting start to the day!

Looking through the second gate into the interior of the palace.

My first destination was Gyeongbokgung Palace. It’s an ancient palace in downtown Seoul, and it’s absolutely massive. Originally built in the 1300′s AD by the Joseon dynasty, it was burnt and rebuilt numerous times during Korea’s conflicts with Japan. The bulk of its current incarnation was restored during the last century, but it’s impressive nonetheless. Completely circumvented by a fortress wall, it sprawls over a huge area of Seoul. It took me about 3 hours to walk through it, and some of the areas were closed that day! Three huge gates lead into the royal court hall, near the heart of the palace. It’s a huge structure with beautiful architecture. Behind this lie innumerable smaller buildings and offices and shrines within a maze of walls. The palace grounds themselves are a strange juxtaposition. If you look southward, you can see downtown Seoul practically tumbling over the fortress walls. Look northward and all you can see are hills and forest.

Myself in front of an island shrine.

Though the weather was rather dismal, there were still plenty of people exploring the site. I probably could have streamlined my exploration of the palace grounds with a free English tour, but I didn’t want to wait the hour and half for it to start. Maybe next time. That being said, I still explored it pretty thoroughly. Also inside the palace grounds are two fairly substantial museums – the Korean Folk Museum and the Korean Palace Museum. The entire package cost only $3, and the museums were actually free. As a bona fide history buff, the palace was awesome, and some of the artefacts and structures old indeed. A few of the forty-odd royal tombs of the Joseon dynasty were on the palace grounds – they are part of UNESCO World Heritage. If UNESCO’s in on it, then it must be good!

Some of the older ones are from the Joseon dynasty, which ruled Korea from ~1400-1900 AD.

After I’d glutted myself on history to a sufficient extent, I decided to move on to my next stop of the day – the Korean War Memorial Museum. And so a half-hour jump through the subway later, I emerged once again – this time, no riot police in site – at the War Museum. Something equally unexpected was happening, however. Well, it shouldn’t have been unexpected, but I was obviously just out of it that day. You see, I’d forgotten that it was Korean Independence Day, and so – quite logically – there was a big festival being held on the museum grounds! Figuring this wouldn’t be the best time to check out the museum, I decided to peruse the festival instead. There were tons of volunteers all over the place, and they were only too happy to show me around and acquaint me with all the different stalls and events. I can now say that I’ve worn hanbok (Korean traditional garb) and pounded rice cakes with a massive wooden hammer. Can you?

I'm not sure of it's original function, but now this structure serves as the Korean Folk Museum.

There was also a parade later on in the day, which had some neat sections to it. Lots of musicians and traditional dancing. After that, however, my feet were on the verge of declaring war on the rest of me, so I decided to call it a day. An hour later, I was awaiting my KTX ride home, and eating a delicious bulgogi chicken burger at KFC. And that is the story of my day. Ironically, I can safely say that I inadvertently participated more in Korean Independence day than I ever have for Canada Day! Go figure.

Festival at the Korean War Memorial Museum.

Other than that, I’ve not much to say. It’s quite hard to believe that I’ve been nearly six months in Korea. Well… in some respects at least. I can remember arriving at Incheon airport as though it was last week, but when I think of all the school events I’ve participated in, and all the kids I’ve taught, it seems like a lot longer. Time’s a fickle bugger. Einstein, eat your heart out.

Some of you may know of my fondness for sensitive plants, a few of which lived long and healthy lives in my dorm room at UBC. These plants are really neat in that their leaves are sensitive to touch, and so if you brush up against them, they fold up to protect themselves. In any case, I discovered that they live wild in Korea – the other day I saw a sensitive bush as tall as myself! Much fun ensued.

Living in Korea has lent a lot of credence to the clichéd sound of chirping crickets, whose sounds I heretofore had thought were greatly embellished. Not so! They are so loud, and in such great abundance here, that I can put a soundtrack to my awkward pauses merely by opening a window! To be honest though, they have really great harmony.

Cicadas are also extremely prevalent here, and I really get a kick out of their droning sounds. Whenever I go for a run, the cicadas in each tree go silent as I rush past, and then start up again after I move away. I guess they’ve got a bit of stage fright. That being said, some cicadas can apparently sing as loud as 120 dB – enough to technically cause hearing damage!

Korean phrase of the day:

“bulgogi” – ‘fire meat,’ a delicious meat dish traditionally cooked over a fire, hence the name.

“mulgogi” – ‘water meat,’ AKA fish!

The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to Korean Cuisine

“The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is a very unevenly edited book and contains many passages that simply seemed to its editors like a good idea at the time. One of these supposedly relates the experiences of one Veet Voojagig, a quiet young student at the University of Maximegalon, who… after a night drinking Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters with Zaphod Beeblebrox, became increasingly obsessed with the problem of what had happened to all the ballpoints pens he’d bought over the past few years…”

This is not his story.

Instead, due to financial restraints and general editorial lethargy, the below article has been substituted. It is of lesser quality, lesser length, lesser wit, and most certainly lesser interest to its readers. Indeed its brevity is probably surpassed only by that of its readers’ attention spans, and so without further prevarication…

When hitch hiking, flying, paddling, snorkelling, hip-hopping, or in any way traveling anywhere in the known universe, one thought should always be first and foremost in the traveler’s mind. This, of course, would be the availability of the closest towel, and the ease with which one can procure said massively useful item. After the towel has been obtained, worn, and used in any number of ways, the second thought in a traveler’s mind should be this. Food. Where is it? What is it? And most importantly, do I really have to pay that much for it?

In response: in restaurants and stores, any number of things, and hopefully not but you never know.

If, for whatever reason, one finds oneself moseying around the Sol planetary system, and decides to hang a left at Venus and take a detour to Earth, one might very well find oneself in the vicinity of South Korea. If the traveler does not have their babblefish handy, then there is a rather large chance that they will not understand the language. This is unfortunate, but not uncommon. A few useful phrases in Korean can quickly be learned to expedite the eating experience, and prove that you’re as polite and amazingly together as they come:

1) “kamsahamnida”

2) “anyo”

3) “nay”

4) “mashisseoyo”

5) “chuseyo”

6) “mul”

7) “yogiyo”

First of all, DON’T PANIC. That is, DON’T PANIC if you can’t understand the above seven words. That’s normal. You might want to panic a little bit if you’re hearing voices, though. Unless, of course, that’s normal for you, in which case please keep on hearing them and don’t bother with the panicking. In any case, here is what the words mean:

1) “thank you”

2) “no”

3) “yes”

4) “delicious”

5) “can I have ______”

6) “water”

7) “come here” (as in hail a waiter)

These words, obviously, are useful in many situations, and undoubtedly no small number of kings, queens, presidents, and reconstructive nose surgeons have built their careers around them, but in this particular case, they are also very useful for eating food in Korea.

Once one has learned, studied, and written at least three doctorate theses on these terms, at three separate universities, one will be ready for the next step in Korean culinary practice. Chop sticks. For travelers from  farther abroad who are not familiar with common Earth utensils, these are really rather like they sound. They are sticks, and when you like, you can sort of chop with them. Koreans use metal chopsticks, which many newcomers have trouble with at first. Japan and China, in comparison, more commonly use wooden ones. Chop sticks, just like oil painting, wood carving, achieving high scores in Tetris, and blowing bubbles in milk, is an art that must be practiced to be achieved. Once this bothersome practice is out of the way, the real fun can start!

Choosing the food.

Korean food is exceptionally delicious, especially if the reader is of a species whose senses include that of taste. Being surrounded on three sides by water, this small country is rich in seafood dishes, most commonly using squid, octopus, mussels, oysters, shrimp, and tuna in its meals. Aside from seafood, kimchi is a word nearly synonymous with Korean cuisine. It is a dish of fermented vegetables existing in almost 200 different varieties, including cabbage, radish, cucumber and onion, though cabbage is by far the most common. Unlike politicians, kimchi is extremely popular, so much so that people will eat it for breakfast. Many Koreans even have special fridges to ferment their own kimchi. A popular kimchi dish is kimchi jjigae, or kimchi soup.

A large portion of Korean foods, kimchi and kimchi jjigae especially, are rather hot. And by rather I mean really, and by really I mean extremely, and by extremely I mean that it’s so mind-bogglingly tongue-numbingly hot that you could make necklaces from your sweat beads and sell them to black market art dealers in Alpha Centauri for no small sum. As well, rice is substituted for a spice-quenching effect instead of the commonly-used yogurt, for dairy products are fairly non-existent here. And so, with that in mind, travelers whose tongues are of a lesser constitution may want to pack an extra in their bag just in case.

Those travelers disinclined from eating fermented vegetables would do well to read this next part, as it is all about eating foods which do not include fermented vegetables. A popular and insanely delicious beef dish is bulgogi. Thin strips of beef are marinated in the bulgogi sauce and then barbecued. After this, it is served – much like an eviction notice but probably much more pleasant. Another popular meat dish is galbi, which is consists of marinated and barbecued beef short ribs. As is quite typical in Korean restaurants, these dishes are often barbecued right in front of the patron – either in a sunken barbecue pit in the middle of the table, or on a small portable barbecue. Essentially, if one does not find these dishes delicious, one might want to get one’s head (or heads) examined.

Tteok is one of many types of Korean rice cakes, and its pronunciation has nothing whatever to do with the sound of a grandfather clock. It can be served as a snack or dessert, and comes in many shapes, sizes, and colours, all of which are tasty. Its texture may not appeal to all eaters, however, as these treats can be rather chewy. This would be an especial problem if one does not have teeth.

A Korean dish similar in appearance to Japanese sushi is gimbap. These rice and seaweed rolls are stuffed with all sorts of goodies, including tuna, crab, cucumber, carrot, pepper, beef, egg, and radish. It must also be noted that they sometimes contain spam. PANIC SLIGHTLY. To reiterate, gimbap rolls sometimes contain spam, that most loathed of artificial meats, whose presence should only be suffered during songs sung by hallowed British comedians.

In the end, of course, if all else fails and one is in a hurry to get back to frolicking and towel-wearing, one can always eat ramyeon (ramen) instant noodles. They are quick, cheap, and salty, and so, obviously, delicious!

Editor’s Note: At this point, the writer of this article either ran out of time, or interest, or quite possibly both. We are left only with the vague admonishment “Say no to spam”, and an empty towel rack.

- In honour of the incomparable Douglas Adams, without whose brilliance this blog post would never have happened, and without whose books most readers of said blog would be hopelessly confused. Well, to be honest they’re probably confused anyway. I apologize for the inconvenience.