Eat together, Pray together, Love together

So I recently read an article about Middle Eastern airlines offering a GPS system on airlines which allows passengers to always know where they are in relation to the holy city of Mecca. They can just roll out their prayer rugs and pray in that direction if they need to during the flight. I thought about how difficult it must be to center your entire life around the fact that you have to pray 5 times a day in the same direction every day, but then I realized that it must come naturally to a Muslim person who has been doing this his/her entire life.

It made me think of how Koreans center all of their activities around eating 5 times a day with other people. I was surprised when I first arrived in Korea, because everywhere I looked, the food always came in giant portions. I thought Americans were the only people who drank and ate more than was necessary, so I was confused to see pictures of large bowls of rice, meat, and vegetables on the signs outside the restaurants, and to see 2-liter bottles of soda on the shelves in the supermarkets. I soon learned, however, that those were all meant to be shared, because Korean people would never consider eating alone.

This means that restaurants don't serve single servings and that it's impossible to buy a single piece of fruit at a fruit stand: you must buy an entire bowl of fruit and then find people to share it with before the fruit goes bad. When a Koren person buys what we would consider to be a single-serving bottle of coke at the convenience store, they also buy small paper cups and then they pour a little bit in each cup for each person to savor the one or two gulps they might get.

I'm not gonna lie, I have found it difficult to only drink two sips of coffee when we have break time at school, and I have found it even more difficult to plan my schedule so that my hunger coincides with another person's hunger every day. But if I eat alone, it's considered to be rude or sad, so I keep trying.

I've often wondered: what does a Korean person do if they become hungry while they are out running errands? So far as I can tell, they do one of three things:
1) they never run errands alone (duh)
2) If they must go somewhere without a friend/colleague/family member, then they starve until they can return home to eat with someone, or
3) they eat at one of the many snack stands that dot the streets everywhere here. Pretty much anywhere you go, you can find a stand with a counter and a vendor behind it boiling or frying one of the many traditional Korean snacks: gimbap (rice and anything else you want rolled into seaweed, a favorite of mine), dokpokki (cylindrical rice cake covered in a sweet red pepper sauce), fried sweet potatoes and vegetables (just like Japanese tempura), fish cake on sticks, hottak (a fried dough thingy filled with nuts and brown sugar), etc. If you must go to the snack stand alone, at least you're likely to be in the company of another stranger eating at the same counter, or you can chat with the vendor while you eat.


Kerk, eating hottdak









I've also wondered: How do you find someone to eat all of your meals and snacks with if you live alone? So far as I can tell: Koreans don't live alone. I have never seen or heard of a Korean person living alone, which means that the children always live with their parents until they are married (even if the child is 40 years old and doesn't plan on marrying anytime soon), and if you get a divorce, you move back in with your parents. Since it's considered to be depressing to see a person eat alone, I can't imagine what the stigma attached to living alone is: completely pathetic? mentally handicapped? shunned from society? I have no idea what they think of me. Sometimes the students ask me if I live alone, and I say yes, but I quickly add that my best friend and 7 other friends live in the same building as me. If they still look like they pity me, I tell them, "Don't worry. We eat our meals together."

unexpectations

So I've mentioned to many people that I didn't know how well I would do moving to a country with which I had little to no cultural/linguistic connection. I had never studied the Korean language in school, I had never seen any Korean television or movies, and I had never played Starcraft, so I was kind of worried. And I still am a little bit.

But I did have expectations about what I would learn and encounter when I moved to an East Asian country. For example, I thought I'd learn about Buddhism and zen and whatever else I thought non-Christian Asians did in their temples and spare time. I also thought that when I traveled to the more rural areas that I would see rice paddies and tea groves everywhere I looked. I expected mountains to look Asian-y (whatever that is) and I thought yellow dust would cover my hair.

But the things I have actually learned and experienced have nothing to do with those expectations. For example, I am now an expert on separating the bones from a fish (with chopsticks!). And I know how to instinctively bow every time I see an elder. I did NOT see Asian-y rural areas on my train ride to Seoul- it turns out that fields and mountains look pretty similar to those in the U.S. And although all of Korea is gearing up in big ways for Buddha's birthday next week (I have no clue how old he is), with lanterns lining every street and festivals getting under way, I haven't heard any Koreans talk about their beliefs and I haven't felt very zen.

But I'm happy with the unexpected. I never thought that my teachers would get excited to simply speak one sentence to me in English, and I never thought that food and drink fairies would drop off snacks at my desk almost every day at school. I never expected to wear an orange bag on my head at a baseball game (more about that later) or get shots in the butt seven days in a row for a sore throat. Eating Krispy Kreme donuts with chopsticks could become the norm and apparently I can no longer eat salad successfully with a fork (although who has ever been graceful at eating salad?).

I refuse to make Seoul puns

Seoul puns are overwhelming here, so I refuse to title this blog anything like "I've got Seoul." Not gonna happen. Even though it was indeed good for my soul to escape there for the weeekend.









A cheeky Korean mime who kept us entertained for awhile

Seoul is a thriving metropolis that makes you feel alive every time you step outside. Just like any major world capital, you can see people from all over the world walking around, selling their goods, staring at your skin color, and urging you to partake in whatever is it they currently have going on.

My favorite part about the trip was stumbling upon the "World Friendship 2010" festival in City Hall Plaza, where about 50 booths were set up from various countries. You could walk around and shop for clothes, jewelry, food, and other knick knacks, or you could sit in front of the giant stage that was set up to watch different cultural performances. Not quite as large as Epcot, but bigger than the festivals in Daley Plaza.
















The booths set up from various countries.


I think that the number one reason I love big cities is that I love globalization. I love the idea of all countries coming together to share their unique cultures, where everyone is happy and dancing, with their mouths covered in strange sweets. Whenever I see a phenomenon like this, I forget that wars exist and I believe in an optimistic future for mankind. I forget that small minds exists and I believe that everyone wants to learn about the beauty of diversity. I forget that the fear of change exists and I believe that everyone is welcoming globalization. This mindset may be naive, but it at least gives me the motivation that I need to manifest this hope in my future travels and career.

I would love to have a job someday that allows me to simply travel around the world and explain the differences in cultures to people. Whether its explaining the differences in offensive actions to foreign heads of State, or explaining homosexuality to people who don't understand it, I believe that such discussions can prevent ugly wars- both the spoken ones and the physical ones. A hundred years ago it was easier to ignore what was different from your own mannerisms, faith, clothing, etc... but today we are much more aware of the differences that exist in our global community. Thanks to the internet, speed of travel, increased immigration, and the 24-hour news cycle, we are confronted with diversity daily, and I don't believe that it's healthy to ignore it. Change and melting pots are inevitable, so why not anticipate it so that we can adapt more easily to rise of Spanish-speaking America and cope better when a Muslim family moves in next door?

I don't mean for this post to sound so didactic, and I in no way consider myself an expert on diversity. I'm perfectly aware of the fact that I will never be able to fully understand the plight of the Afghani people because I wasn't raised there, and I will never know what it's like to spend a life in poverty.

I also don't mean to dis the idea of small community. I love the small communities that exist here in Busan, where a family spends their entire existence together. The children live with their parents until they are married; this means that they find a university in/near their hometown so they don't have to move out of the home, and it's perfectly natural to live with the family until age 35 or even 40 if they have not married yet. If a Korean woman is pregnant, she moves in with her mother for a month after the baby is born so she can always have plenty of care for the child. Families never neglect each other, so homelessness is not a common phenomenon here and you never see a single mother raising her children alone. Although I myself can't fathom of the idea of no independence after high school, I think the tight-knit family structure here is beautiful and comforting.

That being said, the Korean people have managed to somehow maintain traditional family values while simultaneously opening their hearts to foreigners. Koreans enjoy a sense of home and belonging, but never in a way that makes an outsider feel like they can't be apart of that. I never feel unwelcome here, and oftentimes I feel like I am too welcome because everyone seems to go out of their way to make me feel comfortable here. My coteachers give me a separate portion of food at meal times because they heard that Westerners don't like to eat out of the same bowl as everyone else. Every weekend, a different person invites me to their home to have dinner with them. My vice-principal waves to me to say hello instead of expecting me to bow. (funny sidenote: After the first week here, I was still not in the habit of bowing every time I saw an elder, and I accidentally did the 'head nod' thing that we sometimes do when we see someone and intend to say 'what's up?' Before I could rectify this and bow to him instead, he walked in a room. I could see him laughing and mimicking the head nod. I was so embarrassed).

I am always encouraged to participate in events here, and as far as I know, I am not judged for the fact that I wear hats/headbands every day, talk to inanimate objects, and drink several cups of water at every meal. My Korean colleagues seem to enjoy learning about my peculiarties as much as I am amused by their perfectly groomed hair, the fact that they say "Have you eaten?" as a way to say hello, and their magnificent ability to eat an entire spicy meal without a drop of liquid to wash it down with.

I got a little bit off track. Back to Seoul...

Another reason I love big cities: you can always find hummus! and Mexican food! And boxes of brownie mix!

Yup, that pretty much sums it up.


Kerk, eating Mexican food in Seoul