Category: Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

February 22, 2011

3 things I wish I knew about the EPIK orientation for future English teachers in South Korea

by Alex Pickett

1. I wish I would’ve known that I could arrive at Incheon Airport anytime between 8 a.m. and 10 p.m.

In the weeks leading up to our departure from recession-soaked Florida to South Korea, Chickpea and I were frantically contacting our recruiter and trolling forums trying to figure out what time we should arrive at Incheon Airport so our EPIK handlers could pick us up and take us to our orientation location. This was an important piece of information, because the flights from Florida landed in South Korea at wildly different times. Unfortunately, our recruiter was less than forthcoming, because the agency wanted us to wait until the last moment to buy our tickets in case there was some change in orientation dates or visa requirements. But in order to get the best possible price for our flight, we needed to know before the week prior to leaving.

See the problem?

We eventually just bought a ticket that put us in Korea at 7 p.m. We ended up waiting two more hours for the next EPIK orientation bus to arrive (and that wasn’t even the last one of the night). If I would’ve known this two weeks earlier, I could’ve shaved at least $200 from my ticket.

2. I wish I would’ve known how many times I’d have to lug my suitcase up and down several flights of stairs.

Before you pack those extra few teaching books or 10 pounds of American candy for your students (true story!), consider this: In the first 10 days after arriving in Korea will you have to lug your suitcases around at least eight times and usually up or down several floors. In reality, you probably can’t avoid this fact but make sure you have durable luggage (with wheels) that can handle your death grip as you alternately drag and throw your suitcase down seven flights of stairs (true story!).

3. I wish I would’ve known how packed the schedule was at orientation and slept better before my flight.

My fellow EPIK teachers may disagree with this, but Chickpea and I found the EPIK orientation truly exhausting. The schedule is packed from breakfast at 8 a.m. to a Korean language class that ends 12 hours later with little time in between to just relax. Even the hour-long meal times drained my energy; meeting new faces and holding conversations can be taxing after the fifth day straight. Add to this the dinners and various performances that can run until 10 p.m. And that’s not even taking into account the energy needed to acclimate to the food and just fully realize “Wow, I’m really half-way across the world.”

Don’t get me wrong: the EPIK orientation is a rewarding experience, and a good introduction to the fast-paced reality of Korea, but get your rest. You’ll need it.

Smack dozens of teachers into dorms, lecture at them for 10 days straight while feeding them quasi-Korean food and then smoosh them against a wall and some desks and tell them to pose while saying "Kimchi!" and this is the photo that you'll get.

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February 20, 2011

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea: Bangkok in Pictures

by Alex Pickett

A pictorial look at our recent trip to Bangkok, one of the most dynamic cities we’ve ever visited. Of course, the photos do not do this dynamic city justice. With pictures, you can’t smell all the sweet, spicy street food emanating from dozens of street stalls or taste the richness of a thai ice coffee with coconut milk. You can’t feel how it is to ride in that glorified go-cart called a “tuk-tuk” — wind in your hair, eyes level to the bumpers of oncoming traffic. And you definitely can’t experience the feeling of exploring this paradoxical city, which blends thousand-year-old temples with the most modern skycrapers and shopping malls, intense spirituality with the sin of Soi Cowboy.

But hopefully it gives you some idea.

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February 17, 2011

Alex and Chickpea Do Southeast Asia: The Night Bus from Siem Reap to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)

by Alex Pickett

First, your hostel proprietor gives you wrong time for the bus.

Well, not necessarily the wrong time for the bus, but the wrong time for the mini-van to come pick you up and take you to the actual bus. After some frantic calls, you finally get to the bus terminal — a small, nondescript storefront with two huge buses in front. You wait. As people of various nationalities rush around you, asking worried questions and receiving no answers from the Cambodian bus operators, you start to wonder if you’re at the right place. After all, there is more than one night bus that leaves from Siem Reap.

You shove your $24 ticket at someone who looks like he drives the bus, or at least has ridden it before. He points to one of the buses. Inside the seats are numbered. A girl agrees to switch with you so you can sit by your girlfriend (the guy who booked your tickets didn’t make sure of that). That girl is headed to a different city (Sihanoukville) and you’re a little nervous that this might not be the correct bus. But when you ask, there is no definite answer.

The bus is a little larger than a Greyhound and has comfortable multi-colored blankets on the seats for you to use, which is great because the bus is freezing. Despite the seemingly unorganized nature of the whole affair, the bus leaves right at midnight. You settle down to sleep, occassionally adjudsting your blanket or peering out of the windows.

At 6 a.m., you arrive in Phnom Penh and the bus driver empties everyone into the parking lot of a small, outdoor bus station. “Wait here,” the driver says and then he’s gone. Your fellow passengers look confused too, heads darting back and forth, looking for any indication of where the connecting bus may be. So we all wait together under a tin awning. Several times, men come by asking where we’re going. When we answer, “Ho Chi Minh City” they say “OK, OK” and walk away.

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February 17, 2011

Isn’t That Nice: South Korea sends birthday balloons for North Korea’s Kim Jong Il

by Alex Pickett

Yesterday was North Korean dictator Kim Jong-Il’s birthday. And as they’ve done sporadically for years, a group of South Korean activists sent some birthday balloons.

Of course, those balloons carried about 100,000 anti-North Korea propaganda leaflets  to the North Korean people, but you know, we all get birthday presents we don’t fully appreciate.

Honestly, I’m fascinated by this low-tech psychological warfare. It’s so old school — sending propoganda by helium balloon to incite the masses.

Apparently, it actuallly works. In 2008, The Economist wrote a story profiling a North Korean nurse who came across one of these pamphlets dropped from a balloon. She says  it planted a seed in her mind for a better life and before long, she escaped to South Korea.

In fact, North Korea has been so bothered by these balloons that in the winter of 2008, it threatended military action if the balloons continued to flow across the border (they were bluffing, as usual). Although the South Korean government stopped its own balloon wars in 2004, but they wouldn’t take a stand against human rights activists releasing the balloons. Then, after the North Korean attack of a navy submarine and increased tensions, the South Korean defense ministry announced it would begin the propaganda war anew. When North Korea attacked the residential island of Yeonpyeong, the military immediately responded with 400,000 of its own propaganda balloons. The balloons released yesterday was openly supported by South Korea’s president, President Lee Myung-bak.

Balloons typically carry DVDs and leaflets about the uprisings in Egypt, anti-communist writings, dollar bills, transistor radios and plenty of insults against Kim Jong-Il, including calling North Korea “the Republic of Fat.”

But balloons aren’t all fun and games for South Korea. Last summer, the South Korean government panicked when residents of a small town near Seoul reported 40-50 objects resembling parachutes landing on a nearby mountain. When police and military personnel arrived, they found the objects were just balloons released by a nearby school.

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January 21, 2011

Alex and Chickpea Do . . . Southeast Asia?

by Alex Pickett

It’s true. Right now, Chickpea is on her way to Thailand — I’ll join her at the end the week — for a whirlwind tour of Southeast Asia. And I do mean whirlwind. Between January 19 and February 6, we’ll visit the traffic-clogged, neon-lit, pagoda-stuffed skyline of Bangkok, Thailand; the ancient and mysterious temples of Angkor Wat in Siem Reap, Cambodia; enjoy a few days of R&R on the beaches of Vung Tau, Vietnam; battle motorbikes and stuff ourselves silly with pho in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam; and wrap up in Vietnam’s burgeoning capital of Hanoi before flying back to Seoul.

Visiting other Asian locales is a large part of an EFL teacher’s overseas stay. If you ask 10 English teachers why they came to Korea, nine will list “travel” as one of the reasons.

We’re no different. So we’re using our 2-week winter vacation to see three countries we’ve watched countless travel shows about: Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam.

Consequently, there will not be any new posts until the second week of February. But check back here for a series of posts about our travels, including how to find the cheapest plane tickets and navigating visas to what fried tarantula tastes like.

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January 18, 2011

The saddest zoo in the world: A look at Dalseong Park in Daegu [video]

by Alex Pickett

Dalseong Park is the oldest park in Daegu. Located in the central part of the city, this park has some nice hiking trails overlooking downtown and surrounding neighborhoods, some gardens and historical statues. But the main attraction has been the zoo.

Now, I’ve been to zoos across the U.S. and seen some sad sights, but nothing really compares to this zoo. Watch the video, but WARNING: animal lovers will not enjoy it.

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January 17, 2011

City bus tour purgatory, more octopus adventures and, of course, fireworks: A look at the 2010 Busan Fireworks Festival [video]

by Alex Pickett

In October, Chickpea and I visited the dynamic port city of Busan to attend the 2010 Busan Fireworks Festival. Intrigued by “Korea’s San Francisco” we arrived early to see the sights, smell the smells and eat wriggling octopus from the Jagalchi Fish Market (for the second time – natch!).  Here’s a look at that day, all the way to the exploding climax!

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January 15, 2011

Christmas in Seoul: Eight fun things to do on your expat ho-ho-holiday

by chickpeainkorea

Before I dive in, let me start by saying that this is not intended to be an all-inclusive list of stuff to do in Seoul on Christmas. There are myriad fascinating things to do in Seoul every day of the year, and December 25th is no exception. A second caveat: Christmas is to Korea what Valentine’s Day is to the West — a couple’s day. If you’re thinking family gathered ’round the fire and decorating the Christmas tree, you’re probably S.O.L. But if you wanna explore one of the world’s largest cities during the hap-happiest time of the year, here’s Alex and Chickpea’s 24-hour itinerary:

1. Breakfast of champions. If you’re looking for fast, cheap, and delicious (no doubt MSG-laced) breakfast, follow your nose to the nearest subway station. My favorite way to start the day is with a heaping bag of manjoo from one of the vendors who take up residence in the mass transit hubs. These cream-filled fluffy corncakes are so delicious you’d rather scald your mouth and stuff your face than wait for them to cool.

2. Take in the views from Namsan Tower. Also called N. Tower or Seoul Tower, this 237-meter behemoth towers over the city and provides 360-degree aerial views of the megalopolis below. A lover’s destination year-round, N. Tower was especially crowded with couples on Christmas. Pledge your everlasting love by inscribing a lock with a special message, to hang forever from one of the many lock-filled trees, banisters, benches and railings across the tower. Or, you can do what we did and pose with every mascot.

3. Forget the Christmas ham. You’re in Korea for Christmas, you might as well go all the way. If cheap and greasy is your style, try fishy odeng, spicy ddukbokki rice cakes, pa jun veggie pancakes or perhaps a double-battered, double fried, sugared corndog from one of the ever-present street vendors. If you’re looking for some soju to accompany your meal, try samgyeopsal (heaven on a grill) or pop into a kalbi joint. You won’t regret it. Try sundubu jjigae (tofu soup) if you’re looking for a lighter meal, or sample some bibimbap if a spicy mix of veggies and rice sounds good. If noodles are your thing (and they’re mine), try jjajangmyeon, a black soybean noodle dish commonly advertised as Chinese, but it’s all Korean. Trust us, you won’t run short of dining options in this city. (Just steer clear of the many Italian places. Alex is tired of the sweet-and-sour “spaghetti.”)

4. Get schooled at the Seoul Museum of Art. We took our second trip to this trendy art spot on our Christmas trip. Set back in a peaceful cobbled road near Deoksugung Palace, SMA has regularly rotating exhibits, both local and international. This time, we saw an enlightening Chagall retrospective; our first trip was the tasty multimedia smorgasbord Seoul Media City.

5. Take a time-out at the War Memorial of Korea. Yes, it’s sobering to learn about the tragedies of Korea’s war-torn past on Christmas, but it’ll also make you grateful for what you have, and you’ll leave in awe of how far South Korea has come in the last 60 years. Even the courtyard monuments could take a few hours to see; the museum itself is enormous. The War Memorial museum could fill an entire day, but since admission is often free (if not, just 2,000 won), we decided to take it one gallery at a time.

6. Run with the bulls in Myeongdong. The fashion heart of Seoul is throbbing with people on Christmas. If you don’t mind a crowd (hey, it’s a good way to stay warm), this is a sight to see. Seoul’s hip and trendy converge with tourists to shop, eat and people-watch here. And trust us, there is people watching aplenty. We even spotted a sign-carrying, loud-speaker wielding messenger of the Lord, encouraging the heathen masses to remember the reason for the season.

7. Warm up in Shinsegae. Named in TIME Magazine as one of the top Seoul sights, this behemoth department store includes more name brands than you can shake a stick at, along with a multi-floor food court and an upscale grocery. Plus, it’s a great respite from the cold. Bonus: it’s connected to the subway station and offers the best Christmas light-views in city.

8. Stroll the Cheonggyecheon. After warming up in Shinsegae, you’re ready for a riverside stroll, right? We were. We braved the single-digit temps to take in the most stunning (and eco-friendly) Seoul attraction. This underground stream — running nearly 20 feet below street level — used to be covered by a highway. But when a new city beautification project began, the stream was one of the first things to get a facelift. A mix of natural beauty and the ever-present blazing neon lights makes Cheonggyecheon the perfect symbol for Seoul. Take a walk, check out the underground art exhibit and light show, or pack a picnic.

Bonus: Public drinking is a-okay in Korea, so a stream-side bottle of wine is the perfect end to the day — if you’re willing to stay outside long enough to finish it.

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January 15, 2011

Korean student stress saga

by chickpeainkorea

Yesterday, while my English Winter Camp students were busily scribbling away at their daily journal entries, I noticed that one of my brightest girls had a few white hairs poking out of her otherwise jet-black ‘do. When I asked her about it, she said “Stress, teacher.” She’s 13.

When I was 13, the only thing stressing me was that my parents wouldn’t let me wear JNCO jeans (for which I’m now and eternally grateful). Teenage life is a bit more taxing here in South Korea: it’s not unusual for my middle schoolers to spend anywhere from 10 to 16 hours a day at school, after school classes, private school classes and studying. And this is during their school vacation.

This subject deserves a detailed, man-on-the-ground post, which I’ll get to one of these days. But for now, check out Ask A Korean‘s polarizing thoughts on the subject here, here and here. Spoiler alert: He thinks American teenagers should stop whining and start studying as hard as their Korean counterparts. Discuss!

http://askakorean.blogspot.com/2010/04/interesting-article-in-dong-ilbo.html
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January 12, 2011

A guide to New Year’s Eve in Korea

by chickpeainkorea

Since arriving in Korea five months ago, Alex and I have been trying to do things the Korean way. We’ve sacrificed burgers and fries for live octopus and samgyeopsal. We’ve foregone shopping malls for immense, age-old markets. We’ve ignored Gap in lieu of streetside clothes hawkers (um, mostly).

So when it was time to plan our first New Year’s in Korea, we wanted to do it old-school. That means a pilgrimage to Pohang, where a gigantic statue of a hand emerges from the East Sea to cradle the first sunrise of the New Year. Stay up all night, take in a few traditional dance and musical performances, eat rice cakes and shiver on Homi Cape while the symbolic first sun of 2011 comes up. Unfortunately, foot-and-mouth disease had another plan.

So, instead we headed to Korea’s coastal party capital, Busan. Here are a few of the highlights — the must-sees, the can-dos, the be-prepared-fors.

Tip #1: Arrive early. We hopped the 5:50 KTX train from Daegu, and by the time we arrived at 7 p.m., downtown was already in full swing with musical offerings, contests, street food vendors, swarms of people, and, of course, lights, lights, lights.

Tip #2: Stay warm. As a Florida native, I’m new to this concept of cold, so I might be overstating the case when I say that I was freezing my buns off for 14 hours straight. I think the temps were hovering somewhere in the 20s, but try wandering the city and beach for the better part of a windy evening, and you’ll understand why I recommend thermal underwear. Of course, if you do bundle up, you’ll be the only one (especially us ladies). Apparently impervious to little things like below-freezing temps, Korean gals will all be wearing miniskirts, tights and sky-high heels, topped off with a puffy, fur-trimmed jacket. Damn your cuteness, Korean girls. Making me look bad.

Tip #3: Go to Yongdusan Park. Starting around 11 p.m., seemingly half the city congregates in “Dragon’s Head Mountain Park,” just a few steep flights of stairs away from famed PIFF Square and Jagalchi Fish Market. Volunteers hand out free coffee and balloons to be released at midnight. There’s music and merrymaking, and you can rub elbows with Busan’s mayor, who rings the giant Korean Watch-Night bell at midnight. Then there’s the obligatory fireworks show and everyone heads to …

Tip #4: Hit up Haeundae. If you’re willing to drop a few ten thousand won notes on cover, we hear there are some fantabulous parties to ring in the New Year inside the numerous clubs on the strip. From techno to hip-hop (and, honestly, not much in between), if you’re looking to dance, Haeundae is where the party people are at. Being the cheap-os that we are, we took refuge in a warm bar with cheap(ish) beer called 88 in Miami. That way, when we were finally kicked out at 5:30 a.m., we were close enough to…

Tip #5: Watch the first sunrise of the New Year at Haeundae Beach. It’s cold. We’ve have at least five or six cups of coffee apiece. We’ve spent the last few hours prying our eyes open at our last source of refuge, a nearby noraebang.

But it’s finally here. It’s 7 a.m. and everyone in Busan who hasn’t fallen into slumber’s sweet, sweet embrace has trudged their way to Haeundae Beach to watch the indescribably beautiful seaside sunrise. Camera crews, monks tapping out a steady tune asking for alms, bleary-eyed foreigners, kids in pajamas and ajumma in track suits, and the ever-present mascots — they’re all here to start the Year of the Rabbit together. Depending on your frame of mind, it’s an awe-inspiring sight or something straight out of a Hunter S. Thompson novel.

It’s a rough road — we lost a lot of people along the way to the siren song of sleep — but it was worth it. Especially when I passed out in a nearby McDonald’s a few minutes later. (Hey, I deserved hash browns after all that.)

A few quick hits: Eat hodduk in PIFF Square, where the street stand rumored to have originated this salivatingly sweet stuffed pancake fries up hundreds of the tasty treats every night. Play sa-gu in any one of the hundreds of billiard bars (a misleading name, as they often don’t serve alcohol). And eat the tiny, meat-filled, mandu-like packets of noodle goodness at No. 18 Wandang, where you can get a front row seat to watch the artisans rolling and stuffing the noodles for their famous traditional soups.

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January 11, 2011

See EXCO’s Trick Art exhibit before it disappears

by chickpeainkorea

If you live around Daegu and are looking for something indoors to do in the next couple of weeks (this Floridian is ready for spring), Alex and I are giving our official stamp of approval to Trick Art, the traveling exhibit that’s landed at EXCO until Jan. 22. You might learn a little about classic art, but mostly you’ll just make rude poses that make other spectators uncomfortable.

Score!

Many buses go right to EXCO, but if you are cabbing it, any taxi driver should know where to take you. Admission is 10,000 won and worth every bit. We spent about three hours making fools of ourselves, but depending on how creative your poses are, you could really make an afternoon of it.

Now go forth and get tricky!

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January 10, 2011

How-To Korea: How to send mail from a Korea Post Office to the U.S.

by chickpeainkorea

I’d avoided it for weeks. For months. I’d been amassing a collection of Korean goodies for my friends and family since I arrived in August. But I just couldn’t make the final leap, the last and most crucial (and painful) step: tackling the Korean Post Office.

I hate post offices. They’re sterile. They beat the DMV for long, slow-moving lines. The employees are generally, to put it kindly, less than helpful. And I can never, ever, get a straight answer about what kind of shipping to use. These issues arise when I try to send mail in the country where I speak the language. I’ve been having nightmares about the Korean post office for weeks.

As Christmas rolled around, I knew I had to bite the bullet. It couldn’t be avoided any longer. Packed and labeled Christmas packages had been sitting in my apartment for weeks, taunting me.

But I had no reason to fear the Korean postal service. It rocks! It was the least painful post office run I’ve ever made (aside from the $150 I dropped on shipping). We just jumped in a cab and asked for the nearest post office.

Tip #1: For anyone looking for a post office in Korea, they’re relatively easy to find. Just ask for the woo che guk, the Korean word for post office. Or, look for their red sign with a bird on it.

Immediately after opening the post office doors, we were greeted by an English-speaking employee who not only showed us which shipping containers to use, but helped us to set up, pack and label them with lightning speed and efficiency. I’ve already written about the outta-this-world customer service in Korea, but it continues to leave me in shock and awe.

Tip #2: Wait to pack your box until you get to the post office. For one, they may not accept your box. There are limits to the types and size of boxes. The second reason is you may end up paying more for an oddly sized box. Third reason? They will help you pack and tape up the box at the post office.

Tip #3: You have to fill out a customs form before sending packages overseas. It doesn’t take that long, but allow for a few extra minutes, especially if you are sending multiple packages.

Tip #4: Post offices in Korea are generally open from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday through Friday, although during the winter months (November to February) they may only be open until 5 p.m. Also, most post offices are closed on the weekends, although some forum posts suggest there may be a few open on Saturday.

After double-checking that each of my five packages were correctly labeled, we lugged our haul to the counter, where they quickly weighed and tallied it. The downside of sending mail from Korea to the US: even the more expensive option, shipping by air, takes two weeks to a month to arrive. Shipping by boat (what the post office calls “surface”) is considerably cheaper, but takes two to three months to reach it’s destination. Still, the shipping experience itself was about as pleasant as could be.

So, a big apology to all of my friends and family, whose Christmas presents are still hurtling across the world to land on your doorsteps (in a week or two). I guess I should start sending birthday gifts now…

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January 10, 2011

Waygookin’s first jesa

by chickpeainkorea

Before I jump into the whole complicated story, allow me to begin with some background: jesa is a Korean memorial service held on the anniversary of an ancestors’ death. As it’s been explained to me, this usually goes back for four generations — Abeoji and Eomeoni (father and mother); Harabeoji and Halmeoni (grandfather and grandmother); great-grandparents; and finally, great-great-grandparents.

If you’re keeping track, that translates to eight jesa a year. (No wonder Korean women avoid marrying eldest sons, as it’s the wife of the eldest son who’s in charge of preparing the extremely complicated and time-consuming jesa table.)

The ceremony is a very involved one, with many minute steps required to pull off the perfect jesa. (The Ask A Korean blog has an interesting and extremely detailed description of the process here.) The gist of it is this: once a year, on the anniversary of the departed’s death date, the surviving family members pay tribute to their forebears by preparing an enormous feast for the ancestor; by performing special rites (among them burning incense, pouring alcohol, and tapping chopsticks in a bowl three times).

Obviously, I’m a novice: jesa is still a mystery to me, but it’s an extraordinary insight into the importance of Korean traditions. After reading about it, I asked my friend and co-teacher a few details about the ceremony. She, in turn, invited me to her family’s next jesa. I was shocked. I didn’t think any non-family members were allowed, much less a clumsy white girl who can’t even do a proper jeol (an honorific bow).

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January 10, 2011

Not-so-much News Flash: Forever 21, purveyors of party dresses and trendy club wear, hails from South Korea!

by chickpeainkorea

Sorry for the absence, folks — I know you’ve been awaiting a new post with bated breath. Alex and I have been a bit busy for the past few weeks, what with a Christmas trip to Seoul, a New Year’s trip to Busan, Winter Camp woes, and tackling the Korean postal service in between. Posts about all of that and more are forthcoming, but today I discovered something of such utter importance that it warrants an immediate update.

Forever 21 — aka the greatest brand to ever grace the hallowed hallways of malls across the world — was created by a South Korean husband-and-wife duo. Yes, that bastion of cheap fashion, the purveyors of sublimely trendy and fabulously hideous alike, the paragon of party dresses and trashy club wear, is all the brainchild of Dong-Won Chang and his wife, Jin Sook, who opened the first store (still called “Fashion 21″) in LA in 1984 in an effort to bring South Korean trends to Korean Americans.

How have I lived in Korea for five months without discovering this sooner?! This explains so much, like: Why Forever 21′s sizes are so laughably small; why there is so much glitter and bows involved; and why I love it so much.

But here’s the 21-dollar question: Why don’t they have a store in Daegu?! Show some Korean love! I don’t want to go to Seoul every time I need a cheap bedazzled accessory, t00-small stretch jeans, or weird graphic tee. Actually, now that I think about it, all of Korea is like a giant Forever 21. I see all of those things en masse every time I walk down the street of my little Chilgok suburb, and piles of trendy junk occupy the lion’s share (fashionista’s share?) of Daegu’s largest market, Chilseong Sijang.

But I’d really love it if we got one, anyways.

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December 29, 2010

New airport train opens, Daegu to Incheon Airport in just under 3 hours!

by Alex Pickett

Life just got easier for far flung expats and Koreans who need to fly out of the country via Incheon Airport. On Tuesday, the second phase of the AREX commuter train opened, allowing passengers to move from Seoul Station to Incheon Airport in 43 minutes. It’s truly a belated Christmas present from Korea’s transit authorities!

As Chickpea and I were preparing for our upcoming winter vacation in Southeast Asia, we ran into an unexpected obstacle: getting to the airport. We assumed that all major cities in Korea (Daegu, Busan, etc.) were linked to South Korea’s main airport, Incheon Airport (ICN), and moving ourselves and a few pieces of luggage would just be a matter of taking the bullet train (KTX) to Seoul and then hopping on a subway or some other easy form of transport.

Nope.

Before this week, travelers like us might have had several options, but all posed some logistical problem:

1. Take the Daegu to Incheon Airport Bus. Pros: Takes you right to the airport; no transfers; about 30,000 won makes it the cheapest option. Cons: Nearly 5 hour journey; can’t buy tickets online; only a few buses run each day (a problem since we want to leave right after we get out of school); possible traffic delays.

2. Take the KTX train to Seoul Station and hop on an airport limousine bus. Pros: Perhaps faster; not a bus; order train and bus tickets at the station for a discount. Cons: While the KTX may be fast (2 hours from Daegu) the times for the bus vary between 1 hour 15 minutes and 2 hours and that’s not figuring in any traffic delays.

3. Take the KTX train to Seoul Station, hop a subway to Gimpo Airport and then an express train to Incheon Airport. Pros: According to blogs and forums this is the best value; takes a little over 3 hours. Cons: 3 transfers (you have to transfer on the subway twice to reach Gimpo; big possibility of getting lost and confused and taking a few extra hours.

4. Take the KTX train to Seoul Station and hailing a taxi. Pros: Arguably the fastest. Cons: Over $100US in total; possible traffic delays

Of course, you still have these options, but now travelers in Daegu can board a comfortable KTX train to Seoul Station (just under 2 hours) and then hop on this express train straight to the airport (45 minutes). The cost? Roughly 39,000 won for the KTX ticket and 13,000 won for the express train ticket ($45US total). The price is even less if you take the slower commuter train to the airport (3,700 won) that will make 10 stops and delay you about 10 minutes.

What’s more, you can even check in with your airline — luggage and all — at Seoul Station.

In a few more years, the trip will get even easier. Korea has already started work that will allow the KTX trains bound for Seoul to go to straight to Incheon Airport . For those in Busan, this would cut a trip that takes roughly 6 hours now to only 2 hours 40 minutes. Wow.

The only downside is I cannot find where you can buy tickets for this train on an English website. If anyone finds out, please leave a comment with the info. I plan on just getting my ticket at Seoul Station.

Here’s a guide to getting those AREX tickets at Seoul Station. See you on the train!

UPDATE: A fellow English teacher reminded me there is another way to get from Daegu to Incheon Airport: by air. There is one flight each day from Daegu Airport to Incheon. I’ve read prices are 50,000-70,000 won. Still a bit expensive and not very useful, but could work in a jam. Here’s another site detailing all the ways to get to/from Incheon.

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December 29, 2010

New Year Festivals in Korea: Insert foot and mouth

by Alex Pickett

I had planned New Year’s Eve for over a month.

In true Korean tradition, Chickpea and I would take a train to the small city of Pohang on Korea’s east coast and head to Homigot , known for the large, eerie hand reaching out of the ocean. The annual festival would keep us entertained all night long — concerts, soju, fireworks, traditional games, soju, mascots to pose with, free food, more soju — until the sun’s rays peeked up over the East Sea horizon.

With thousands (millions?) of others across the country, we would watch as the first sunlight of the new year cast its glow on the Korean Peninsula.

Then, someone put foot-and-mouth disease in the proverbial punchbowl.

South Korea has suffered from an outbreak of foot-and-mouth disease since April, but it looks like efforts to contain it have not been entirely successful. And so, many festivals in the eastern provinces have been canceled. Look for a list of cancellations here.

If you don’t care about the festivals, though, you can still head to Homigot or some of the other places to watch the sunrise by your lonesome. The cancellations are not to protect your health: humans very rarely contract foot-and-mouth disease.  Agricultural officials are more worried that thousands of people tromping through these provinces will spread the disease to other areas.  Since FMD-tainted meat cannot be sold, this would have a deep economic impact on Korea’s domestic and export meat sales. That means more expensive galbi for those of you in Korea.

Plan B? Visiting a petting zoo.

Just kidding. We’re heading to Busan and watching the sunrise from a large mountain. You should, too.

3 comments
December 27, 2010

One piece of advice: “Go with a very open mind” [video]

by Alex Pickett

Shot in a dim bar over a couple of Maker’s Marks on ice, this is an interview with a friend of mine who has taught English in Japan for two years.

“Go with an very open mind, because you are going to meet people that will confuse you, will baffle you, will try to perplex you,” he begins. Hilarity ensues.

This is part of an ongoing series of short interviews asking for “one piece of advice” for English teachers going abroad to teach.

3 comments
December 27, 2010

Life as a Korean public school teacher: winter camp and private piano concerts

by chickpeainkorea

The season is upon us: No, not the Christmas season (it’s barely registered with me this year) but the English Winter Camp season. Yes, while the other seonsaengnim enjoy a few months away from school and students, I’ll be here, warming this desk o’ mine. But I don’t mind (much). I need the time to learn more Korean. (Oh, and plan our 18-day vacation trip across Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam. We have the plane tickets. Now we need a plan …)

But this post isn’t really about the travails of life as a Native English Teacher (as we’re so formally referred to). I love my life here, and small moments like the one I had today are the reason why. After another typical cafeteria lunch — kimchi, “black” rice, budae jjigae, bulgogi and apples — my co-teacher invited me to an impromptu concert in the music room. (She’s been brushing up her ivory tickling skills with the music teacher’s guidance.)

The music seongsaengnim is teaching her Gummy‘s “Jugeo do Saranghae” (“I Love You Even If I Die” Sweet, huh?). This song has a special place in my heart because it was the first Korean song I could actually understand (some of) the lyrics to.  Since then, the love has worn off a little, because Korea has a tendency to blare the same 10 top hits from every club, restaurant and convenience store, and this is one of ‘em. I’m getting off topic.

At any rate, the three of us went up to the (surprisingly well-equipped) music room, where the music teacher played “Jugeo Do Saranghae” for us on the piano. It was beautiful, and I swayed to the song as my co-teacher sang along. But this wasn’t good enough for the piano teacher, who decided to kick it up a notch and play some classical number I’ve heard before but can’t name (sorry, Beethoven buffs). It was jaw-droppingly awesome. I literally couldn’t believe my eyes as her fingers twirled across the keys. This lady is amazing, and she sits right next to me. It was a special moment.

To top it off, all this fancy-pants piano playing drew in one of our second-grade (14-year-old) students, who also gave us an impromptu piano concert. Of course, we all clapped for him and he looked thrilled.

These are the moments when I really love my life in Korea.

EDIT: Immediately following the writing of this post near the end of the school day, my school had pizza and wings delivered for the teachers. If that doesn’t say ‘Merry Christmas,” I don’t know what does. Happy holidays, folks!

4 comments
December 27, 2010

Korean kids are crazy for gonggi

by chickpeainkorea

You like that alliteration? I thought so. I want to weigh in on the school-wide — and, from what I can tell, Korea-wide obsession with gonggi (which also means “air”).

It’s like the Korean version of Jacks, and it goes something like this: Hold all five gonggitdol (colorful, round, plastic playing pieces) in your hand. Toss gonggi on the table/floor/friend’s back/any level playing surface in sight. Strategically choose one gonggi; pick it up. Toss chosen gonggi in the air while scooping up one gonggi; catch the tossed gonggi. On the next turn, scoop up two gonggi, then three, etc.

Of course, there are finer points of the game, as well as different “versions” (which I think just refer to the skill level or style of the player). These include babo (stupid) gonggi (“Boy, you really suck.” This is the category of gonggi player I fall into); genius gonggi (“Damn, you are really good, and spend too much time playing gonggi instead of studying”); and ddalki (strawberry) gonggi (I have no idea what that could possibly mean, but the student who demonstrated did a particular sweeping motion when scooping up the gonggi).

After seeing the rabid gonggi consumption between classes, I decided to integrate them into one of my lessons. After each “level” completed in gonggi, the students had to answer a question about the lesson. This was particularly effective since many of the kids who rarely participate are in the “genius gonggi” category (like I said, too much gonggi, too little study). In this case, their gonggi skills became their downfall, and my victory, muahahahaha! Yes, that’s my evil seonsaengnim (teacher) laugh.

Incidentally, my biffle Kalynn introduced me to gonggi a couple of years ago back in the States, but I had no clue that it was a Korean game until I moved here. The more you know … (cue Reading Rainbow theme song).

Here’s a brief how-to on gonggi:

3 comments
December 24, 2010

My on-court experience with Orions basketball: or, free stuff in exchange for public humiliation!

by chickpeainkorea

Readers of this blog (and anyone who’s been around me for more than 15 minutes in the past few weeks) know that I’m an increasingly huge fan of Daegu’s pro nun-gu (basketball) club, the Orions.

So far, I’ve settled for admiring the game (and the players) from afar. But last night, things got a little personal. My friend/Korean teacher/co-teacher HyunJeong and I arrived for the 7 o’clock game half an hour early and settled into our seats.

The Orions announcer was doing his usual comedy schtick down on the court when I heard him ask about waygookins (foreigners). As I tried to look inconspicuous, HyunJeong began waving wildly and, unfortunately, caught the emcee’s eye. In an effort to avoid public humiliation, I ducked down in my seat but, realizing there was no escape, I sheepishly lifted my head and decided to play along.

At first, I thought he just wanted me to stand up and show my Orions spirit. Okay, I can do that, I thought. But when he motioned for me to come down to the court, I realized I had made a mistake. Please don’t make me play an on-court game, I thought. I will die of sheer embarrassment. I cannot dribble a basketball, make a lay-up or run without falling over. Thank god all I had to do was stand on the court with the cheerleaders while the players were announced at the opening of the game. (Thought I felt pretty shabby standing next to all those pretty ladies in my oversized Orions t-shirt and jeans).

While the pain may seem minimal, I promise you I was cursing HyunJeong under my breath every moment I was on that court, and wishing nothing more than to be back in my spectator’s seat. But maybe (and that’s a strong maybe) it was worth it: I got a free basketball, a free trip to a upscale jjimjilbang and a free night’s stay at a fancy hotel, all for a few seconds worth of clapping. But the best Christmas Eve-Eve gift of all was getting to see Lee Dong-Jun in all his tall, muscly glory.

Actually, he looks kinda scrubby up close, and seems a little asshole-ish and indifferent to the fans. Just another reason I’d rather keep watching from my seat high in the stands.

2 comments
December 23, 2010

Welcome to Korea: Toilet paper at the dinner table?

by chickpeainkorea

Yes, it’s true: One of the strangest things for a Westerner to see upon arrival in Korea is that TP is no longer relegated to bathroom functions — it’s a multipurpose paper that serves in place of Kleenex, paper towels and even napkins.

I can’t tell you how weird it was for me the first time I sat down for lunch with my co-teachers and someone plunked a roll down in the middle of the table.

And have you ever tried drying your hands with two-ply tissue paper? It’s not super effective. But it sure is efficient. Why use myriad different paper products when all your cleaning needs can really be served with one? Oh, those clever Koreans.

– Chickpea

I find it strange that while there is toilet paper all over the lunch room and restaurant dining areas, there is rarely any in the public bathrooms. Which is not cool when you consider most public bathrooms have these:

– Alex

1 comment
December 23, 2010

McDonald’s delivery to your door and other tales of Korea’s customer service craze

by chickpeainkorea

Since moving to Korea four months ago, I’ve experienced only minor difficulties with the communication barrier. Most people speak at least a little bit of English — though I admittedly feel guilty for expecting them to speak in my own language when I’m in their country. I’m working on it!

Things like asking for directions (or, conversely, giving a cabbie directions), shopping, and ordering food have posed little problem (though Alex and I once wound up with one stinker of an appetizer when we blindly ordered off the menu at our neighborhood hof. Wriggling octopus? We eat it. Pig’s anus sausage? Not nearly as bad as it sounds. Actually, quite tasty. But the dried squid “jerky” that we accidentally ordered is not at the top of my list of favorite Korean foods. I digress.)

My point is that customer service here — at least in my experience — is outta this world. So what if shop owners shadow me while I walk around the store? They’re more than happy to answer any questions. When the cable guy installed my service (hallelujah!), he realized I didn’t have a remote control. After motioning that he would be “right back,” he returned in under 10 minutes with a brand new remote, batteries and all.

McDonald’s has home delivery service here, for God’s sake. Don’t feel like getting outta your pajamas to enjoy a Big Mac? Don’t. Just order in and you will be enjoying greasy, MSG-laced burger goodness in a flash. In fact, all food delivery in Korea is spectacularly different from what I’m accustomed to in the States.

First, take-out isn’t relegated to crappy Chinese restaurants and pizza. You can get just about anything delivered here. And — here’s the kicker — there’s no delivery fee. How is that even possible?! This has lead to an overabundance of crazed delivery drivers on scooters tearing around the city at a breakneck speed to bring you your food while it’s still hot and fresh (and risking their own lives in the process). But damn, it’s worth it.

From phone call to feeding my lazy face in less than 10 minutes: that’s what I call service. If you order from McDonald’s or a fried chicken joint (yes, Koreans love fried chicken — I’m in heaven), you’ll get your run-of-the-mill paper and plastic accoutrements. But if you order from a sit-down restaurant, they’ll also bring you real china plates, silverware, napkins — the whole nine. When you’re done, just put the dirty dishes outside your door. They’ll pick it up later. The U.S. is gonna have to step up its game if it ever wants to see this expat again.

But all of this foodie fabulousness pales in comparison to the real inspiration for this post: NongHyup Bank. Yep, bank service is pretty miserable at the best of times, even when the teller and I speak a common language. But imagine trying to send money overseas in a country where you know next to nothing about bank-speak in the native language. The results could be catastrophic (to borrow a recent North Korean phrase).

Enter Seong-Mo. This unassuming dude works at my local bank, and he is a life saver. After hours of trying to figure out how to transfer money on my own (unfortunately, NongHyup Bank’s website is not as fantastic as their employees) I decided to bite the bullet and go to the bank by myself. I was prepared to do epic battle. Not only did I not have to wait in line (unheard of!), Seong-Mo spoke excellent English and told me exactly what I needed to make the transfer. He even got me a coffee while I waited. (Well, that’s a lie. He sent his secretary to get me a coffee.)

Unfortunately for Seong-Mo, I am babo (stupid) and wrote down an incomplete account number. Apparently, I also wrote down my phone number incorrectly, because the poor guy spent the whole next day trying to get in touch with me, to no avail. Fortunately, he was actually listening when I told him what school I worked at, so he called my school and explained the situation to them. I went back to the bank and he worked it all out. Another of my expat friends said that Seong-Mo actually came to her house to help her with internet banking. While I feel that this is borderline creepy (especially since he told me that my “students are so lucky to have such a beautiful teacher”) no one can deny that it’s some radical customer service.

So thanks, Seong-Mo, for making my life here in Korea even better.

3 comments
December 23, 2010

Sa-gu, Korea’s popular alternative to pocket pool

by chickpeainkorea

I’ve been meaning to write about sa-gu since … well, since a couple of months ago, when I did a double-take while walking by one of Daegu’s many sparsely furnished but brightly lit pool halls. (If the description sounds like the antithesis of the average American billiards experience, that’s because it is.)

When I play pool (badly), there are a few things I want/require: dim lighting, so I can ignore the rednecks guzzling Bud Light at the next table; beer, and plenty of it (preferably a Yuengling, please); and a comfortable, well-worn bar, table or other manner of seating to rest my weary bones after a particularly grueling battle with the cue stick.

Here’s what I’ve seen in Korea: lighting that looks like you’ve entered the sterile, pristine confines of a dentist’s office; the offer of coffee or tea (although I’m certain that almost all billiards bars do serve beer); and a few plastic chairs that look like they might shatter into tiny pieces if I attempted to heave my full weight (read: under triple digits) onto them.

But that’s not what made me do a double-take. Most pool tables here have no pockets. And there are only four balls. That’s why it’s called sa-gu (사구). Sa is Korean for “four” and gu is “ball.” Pretty simple, huh?

Being epically bad at run-of-the-mill billiards myself, I have yet to try the doubly difficult sa-gu. But the basic rules are this: There are two cue balls, one for each player. Points are earned by hitting both of the other balls with your cue ball. I’m lucky if I can tap one little ball when I shoot the cue, forget trying to hit two in one shot. Fortunately, most pool halls I’ve seen have both sa-gu and the more familiar pocket billiard tables.

I thought this four-ball phenomenon was unique to Korea, but the ever-enlightening Ask-A-Korean says that this is called “straight carom billiards,” and variations of the game are played all over the world. Well I’ll be darned.

So while I’ve yet to find a pool hall with that stale-beer-and-day-old-vomit smell and the greasy, comfortable vibe that I crave, if you’re looking for a fun (and super cheap) way to spend a few hours in Korea, just walk out on to any semi-populated street. Look up and to your left; look up and to your right. Odds are you’ll see more than a few blazing neon sa-gu signs beckoning.

2 comments
December 23, 2010

And the deskwarming begins ….

by Alex Pickett

Today is officially my first day of deskwarming.

For those of you unaware of the great deskwarming debate in Korean public schools, let me elaborate: Deskwarming is coming to school for seemingly no other reason than to warm that desk of yours.

Students are on vacation. Teachers are on vacation. All of your lesson plans are finished and the principal has approved them. You’ve cleaned your office, your classroom, some other random room just because you’re bored.

You. Have. Nothing. (School-related). To. Do.

And yet, you are still required to be at school for the full 8-hour day. There is no lunch served. There may or may not be heat. There’s a good chance you will not see another soul for the entire day. And still, you are sitting at your desk. Warming it.

Some foreign English teachers get really upset about deskwarming. “It’s unfair!” they shout to friends at bars during December and January. “Why do the other teachers get two months and we sit here for no damn reason?” Just the thought of “missing out” on another month of vacation time enrages them more.

I admit, I would love the extra time. But I signed a contract and knew what I was getting into. If I didn’t like it, I should’ve been a Fulbright Grantee or something. Or went to Vietnam.

Deskwarming is not so bad. Why, I just spent 10 minutes of it on this blog post!

In honor of my first deskwarming day, here’s a link to one of the newest blogs to join my blogroll: The Waygook Effect, which is one of the better expat blogs out there. The blogger has a hilarious video — featuring Hitler — all about deskwarming. Check it out!

2 comments
December 20, 2010

Korean Magpies: a visit from the good news bird in the midst of North-South Korea tensions

by chickpeainkorea

While the world watches and worries as tensions between the Koreas reach a boiling point (I’ve  been a constant visitor to Voice of America’s Twitter feed all day) I figured everyone could use some good news.

Last week, my co-teacher and I shuffled along a crinkly-leaf strewn sidewalk to Africa Coffee Shop in Chilgok to continue my Korean lessons. A bird landed in the withering grass nearby and began its peck-peck-pecking in search of food. I’d seen many of them since landing in Daegu. “What’s it called?” I asked. “Ggachi,” she said. “If you see one, it means you will have a welcome guest.” (I don’t know if it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, but my co-teacher did visit my house for the first time later that week.)

I’ve been charmed by the ggachi since we first came to Korea. I’d never seen one before, and although they look pedestrian at first glance — like an outsized raven, maybe — upon inspection they’re beautiful birds. Striking white markings cover their underbellies and their wings are tipped with shimmering blue.

What my co-teacher said intrigued me, and I decided to do a little research of my own. Turns out that these bearers of good news and welcome guests are Korean magpies, or pica pica sericea. Of course, I was surprised to find that the Western symbol of greed, frivolity and vanity is one and the same as a Korean symbol of good.

So, as I sit here glued to my Twitter feed, fretting over North Korean nukes (and my English Winter Camp lesson plans) I’m hoping that Koreans got it right: maybe my magpie friend will bring a bit of good news.

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