'Tis the Season

It’s the holiday season, and we just celebrated Valentine’s Day. Well, not really. Let me back up.

The wintry festivities started for us back in September, after the Chuseok harvest celebration. Lights went up, huge snowmen adorned the malls, and the glittery winter décor beat the dropping temperatures that soon followed. Our American Thanksgiving was more or less a loss as a regular workday (though we did get an afternoon turkey meal, thanks to my school!), but our first snow came that week with a clap of thunder and bolt of lightening that lit up the inky morning haze. It was an eerie but very awe-some first snow, and since then we’ve had mostly sunny but gelid days.

Frozen winter stream at Namsan Mountain

So, back to Christmas. With only one day off for the holiday we decided to plan wisely. A late Christmas Eve Korean dinner, a Christmas Day hike, and a good ol’ traditional Western Christmas meal somewhere in Itaewon, the foreigner district. But as the day approached, students shared plans of dates and drinking on Christmas. “It’s a couple’s holiday.”

And sure enough, Christmas Eve came and instead of date night or Korean dinner Zak and I were invited out (separately) with co-workers (last minute planning being the norm here). So began perhaps my most interesting Christmas Eve yet. First, samgapsil, or Korean BBQ (think bacon on a grill, and you eat it in a lettuce wrap). Next up? Makgeoli, or rice wine, with kimchi pajeon followed by strawberry-studded, whipped creme cake complete with birthday candles and a Santa figurine (a gift from a student). And to top off the evening? Noribang; that is, karaoke. Yep, we sang the night away to "White Christmas" and "Feliz Navidad." Karaoke is, after all, a favorite pastime of Koreans young and old and why not do your favorite thing on Christmas?

Korean BBQ with co-workers

Christmas Eve noribang

Meanwhile, Zak was enjoying a house-style Christmas Eve party with wine, cheese, hotdogs, pasta salad and cake. (Let me emphasize, cake is the preferred Christmas dessert. Few pies to be found.)

Our Christmas Day festivities were slightly more normal; albeit, without a tree. We did, however, make it on a hike to nearby Namsan and met up with co-workers for an afternoon Christmas meal (add pizza and chili fries and subtract pumpkin pie, still a little bummed about that one).

Prime rib, duck, grilled veggies and mulled wine. German-inspired. Yum!

All in all, it was a Christmas we won’t forget and reflecting on 2013 we have lots to be thankful for. A special shout out to Mom and Dad (we love the sheets! and we'll call stove-top pumpkin pie a semi-success), Jody and Kathleen (chocolate!), and Kristina for the amazingly comfy scarf. And Tina, those Smartwool socks are clutch! Can’t wait for the calf warmers.

Until next year…

Looking down on Seoul from Namsan Mountain

Christmas Day hiking at Namsan

The Daily Split

It’s 5:30 a.m., and the sound of crickets on my phone alarm shakes me out of slumber. Our one-room studio smells of coffee, and Zak is finishing up his breakfast sandwich. Five minutes of wake-up yoga and a cup of green tea before donning the professional wear. On goes the jacket, hat and scarf and it’s out into the chilly darkness. Zak descends into the subway; my route takes me through Jongno, an old Seoul neighborhood where elaborately decorated temples flamed with red, green and orange fall in the shadows of high rise office buildings and gray apartment complexes.

It’s peaceful though, and I walk by the early morning crowd – an old woman bent over a ten-gallon pot, steam rising in puffs tinged with the scent of vinegar, an old man squatting beside her peeling onions. A truck drives by, filled with persimmons, Asian pears, and mandarin oranges. If I’m lucky, he’ll be around again tonight so I can buy a bag for half the price as at the store. I cross the street, and the city bustle takes over, busses whirring by and commuters easing their way through growing morning traffic. 

I get to my building, grab my prepared materials and head to class. Four out of five students are present today. Kimjang. Kimchi-making. One girl said she’d be out all day helping her mother. Napa cabbage, or baechu, is salted and layered with sok, a filling of red pepper paste, radishes, garlic, pine nuts and a variety of other ingredients then left to ferment in a large clay pots. It’s like spaghetti sauce – each family has their own unique recipe.  I ask the rest of the class if they’ll kimjang, and everyone looks at me like I asked if they brush their teeth. I continue my classes, facilitating conversations; generally not too difficult despite the softspoken Korean communication I’m adjusting to. 

It’s nearly noon and time for a break. I make my way home following the same route, this time it’s lively with clothes vendors, business people out for air, and an old man with speakers attached to his back playing an unidentifiable tune reminiscent of Asian goes burlesque. Zak beat me home and we exchange tidbits from the day. Did you know it’s rude to wave at old people? Never write someone’s name in red, it’s bad luck. 

Our midday stretch is nearly as long as our evening one, and we work out at our gym. I spend a few hours on Bona Dea, and if there’s time we nap. Dinner is soup, yet another variety I’ve concocted from the holy trinity of garlic, ginger and soy sauce. Add some rice noodles, mushrooms, bok choy, seaweed, and sesame seeds and our one-pot dinner is served. 

Though it’s dark again, my evening walk to work is a completely different scene, with a row of fortune tellers lining the park and a peppering of food vendors peddling roasted chestnuts, fish cakes on sticks, and dokbokki, chewy rice cakes smothered in spicy chili sauce. I get to class – more students, tonight discussing the present continuous tense, or why Americans are so obsessed with running. 

Half past nine, the day's split shift is over, and I’m headed home, the evening streets simmering down for a few hours’ rest. Zak arrives just as I’m getting in bed. We a few share more anecdotes and doze off, tired yet energized, content with the daily routine and dreaming of Sunday, our day to explore, talk with friends and family, and do anything or nothing at all.

Seoul, old and new

Roasted chestnuts

Café Ourselves

Sometimes when I sit down to write a blog post, I stall thinking that each entry has to somehow be epic. But really when you think about it, most of life is not epic. It is really the small things, even the mundane, that are the most profound.

Like coffee. Yep, your good ol’ cuppa joe. I had thought tea would have been the beverage of choice here in Korea – which it certainly is in a traditional context – but coffee culture here is like being in the Pacific Northwest. With some twists, that is.

Like the first: instant coffee. I have never had so much instant coffee, particularly when we were on the road with no kitchen and the French press was still packed. Our wake-up options were: 1) No coffee 2) $5 for an 8-oz American (drip’s not common here) or 3) Buck up and go with the instant.

Coffee selection at the local convenience store.

Considering that #1 was not viable and #2 not affordable as a daily routine for two, we went with #3, knowing it wouldn’t be forever. Most instant coffee comes in sticks, loaded with sugar and powdered milk. But luckily, while on our visa run in Japan, we found some relatively good stuff sans additives so we stocked up.

Despite the ubiquitous instant sticks, actual coffee shops abound and their names are alluring as their brews.

Just a handful of coffee shops in our neighborhood.

Many of the shops carry high quality roasts including single-origin, organic, fair trade, rain forest certified and/or all of the above. Winter weather notwithstanding, iced coffee seems to be the local favorite. Then come the lattes of Asian variety, including green tea, sweet potato, and red bean. Apparently those ones don’t actually include coffee, just milk and said plant.

Now that we’re in our Seoul pad and back to home-cooked meals, our instant days are over. We found a good, dark espresso roast (organic, too!) for a decent price at the local Lotte department store, and to our absolute delight, we received our first care package from Zak’s mom complete with two bags of Kona beans from their recent trip to Hawaii.

So, as cold weather encroaches – and we’re out the door at 6 a.m. every morning – we give daily gratitude for a simple morning gift: coffee.