In Search of Somaek

Touch wood, this was the week in which I discovered the formula I will use for my job as an English "instructor" for children in Korea. Work really fell into a good rhythm early on Tuesday and remained that way all week as I suddenly approached the job with more confidence than I'd had in the first few weeks. Most of this change had to do with me accepting the fact that us GEPIK instructors are only part teacher - the other parts being entertainer, facilitator, and ambassador for "the west." At worst, we are handsome projectionists. One of the lecturers at the orientation workshop said he and his teaching mates working in a hagwon (private academy) referred to themselves as "mushrooms": if ever there was an official occasion during which somebody important were to visit, the native teachers were pulled out of the cupboard, dusted off and groomed, and told to stand in a line and bow when the old guy with grey hair walked by. Other than that they weren't wanted much and they certainly weren't there to think or make suggestions on the improvement of the current situation. But that's Korea for you.

Despite all that, I enjoyed my best week in the job yet and my inclination at present is to treat this stop of my journey as a two-year adventure rather than a one-year one. I know I have recently written of my desire to head to Russia, and that certainly hasn't waned, but I also know that Russia ain't going anywhere, and that my current situation is the best it's been for a long while. Good job with terrific staff (despite Seon Ah saying no twice this week), good wage with free housing, low cost of living, good friends, good location, kind people, exciting culture. There's a real pulse to this place which I never detected in Sydney. Oh, and the joy of travelling and partaking in the unfamiliar, or of being so far from home and knowing that though you are fond of it, you don't actually miss it. At least not in the way you have known anxiety in the past.

Tonight I am relaxing after a very successful day shopping and having run the 10 km to Bundang Central Park. I am test driving what is known as somaek - the local alcoholic's concoction of soju (that vodka-like rubbish they drink over here) and maekje (the rubbish that passes for beer over here). The culinary delights of Korea do not extend to its alcohol. There are good beers apparently - somewhere in the countryside I've heard, as in one of those myths that circulates amongst foreigners. For now, unless I want to pay $17 for a six pack of VB (and I don't), I'm stuck with the big 3 Korean brews: Hite (tastes of shite), Cass (tastes of ass), and Max (haven't come up with the rejoiner yet, but it's also shite). It should be said, however, that it is pretty enticing to by a six pack for under $10. Particularly when they put those bloody posters up of the bloody Korean beer girls looking all happy and near naked and who would probably do it with you if only you drank more of their product. One of them looked so enticing that in a drunken haze down in Seohyun last week I ripped one down from a convenience store window and took her home with me!!! The next morning, I woke to find I had stolen a poster of perhaps the least attractive Korean girl ever to work in advertising. After a long walk by the river, a cold shower and lots of tea, she hadn't improved and I filed her in the recycling with the empty tuna cans and milk bottles that I get from school every day. Ass dismissed.



The crew and I went a-footballing again last weekend, this time to watch Korea play against Ecuador in their final home game before they hit the road that leads to South Africa 2010. I feel that this shot was taken right after Lee Chungyong's tremendous effort fighting! through the South Americans' defence. Fighting! is the verb the Koreans have chosen to appropriate most successfully into Konglish when it comes to the realm of international football. Before groups had their picture taken on the summit of Ulsanbawi, they said Fighting! in the way that we would say cheese, or in the way I have trained this lot to say kimchi:



Kimchi is the most characteristic of local side dishes. It's a kind of spicy pickled or fermented cabbage (or radish, or other vegetable) that comes served cold. Foreigners often remark that it smells like piss or vinegar or a sweaty sock or whatever, but I think if you're not used to it you could say that about much of Korea. Personally, when the Keul Chae Bi I ordered today came with only a small serving of kimchi, I was actually disappointed. We have it every day at school for lunch and I'm rather keen on it now. (woof!)

Here's a rundown on everything else in my life so hopefully now you will stop phoning me and asking questions.

Weather: warming up. Switched on the old A/C for the first time today.
Friends: Americans.
Diet: Korean buffet-style lunch! It's like it's your birthday and you're being treated to exotic takeaway every day! Makes me feel fine about having toast and baked beans for dinner.
Love: no. At this rate I'll be eating worms pretty soon. And I feel okay about this.
Soundtrack: Bowie, Death Cab for Cutie, less Tom Petty and Springsteen now. I'm feeling up again.
Regrets: I wish you and I'd had those kids, maybe bought us that home.
Favourite Animal: Saska!!!
Channels: 68
Mood: Patient. As ever. I love you too much to ruin anything with hastiness. Goodnight. X