Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

Alex and Chickpea Do Southeast Asia: Cambodia takes a turn for the weird on the trip from Poipet to Siem Reap

Getting to Cambodia was only the beginning. After clearing customs, we walked out of the minuscule, un-airconditioned visa office into the dusty heat. Looking through the lazily-guarded fence, we could see the Thai bank where we had just changed our baht for dollars. (Cambodia has two officially accepted currencies: the riel and the more desirable US dollar. )

Our initial relief at a successful border crossing deflated almost immediately. With no real direction beyond few tips gleaned from travel blogs, we started wandering toward what we hoped was the shuttle service. Fewer than 20 feet from the visa office, we saw a naked baby, dirt-streaked and screaming on the sidewalk. He was alone. Someone had put an empty soda cup in his hand to collect money.

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

Alex and Chickpea Do Southeast Asia: Bussing it from Bangkok, Thailand to Poipet, Cambodia

When Alex and I reluctantly re-packed our backpacks to exchange Bangkok for the countryside of Cambodia, we weren’t prepared. Here in Korea, we usually know what to expect. Sure, there’s toilet paper at the dinner table, pocket-less billiards, and McDonald’s delivers, but outside of the obvious, I find day-to-day life fairly straightforward. Not so in Southeast Asia.

This became all too clear when we arrived at the Morchit (Northern) Bus Terminal for the first of our many bus trips across the region. We were there early — ungodly early — because Alex read that crossing the border after noon means long lines and lots of waiting. We bought our tickets for Poipet, handed over around $20 worth of baht, and went in search of our bus. That’s where it got interesting.

In Florida, land of suburbs and sprawl, driving is the only efficient way to get around. I’ve never used my hometown bus system, although I do ride the bus in my new Korean city of Daegu a few times a week. It’s fast, efficient and easy. It’s the polar opposite of our Southeast Asian bus experiences.

After finding our gate and walking cautiously out into the parking lot, we found that none of the buses were numbered. There were several marked as heading for Poipet — which one was ours was anybody’s guess. We soon learned that this is when folks lacking official uniforms approach and urge you to get into the nearest unmarked, unofficial van or bus, sometimes without even bothering to look at your ticket to check your intended destination. Learning when to trust strangers was more valuable than all the treasures we picked up a Chutachak Market.

Bleary-eyed and barely conscious, we settled in for the four-hour-long ride. Watching the skyscraper-studded cityscape fade into fields proved too exciting to fall asleep, even though it was still only 6 a.m.

Right on schedule, we saw casinos cropping up — the telltale sign that we were nearing a border town. It was only after the bus dropped us off in a parking lot — which held little more than a few fruit vendors, aggressive tuk-tuk drivers, and a pay-to-use bathroom carefully guarded by a few local women — that we began to realize we weren’t in the comfort zone of Thailand anymore. This was Cambodia, the sometimes-rival, sometimes-friend of neighboring countries. It’s unpredictable, it’s at once devastating and heartwarming, and red dust covers the glossy-safe sheen of everything we’d seen before.

I wasn’t ready.

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

Korean Spring Festival Series: The Jindo Sea Parting fest

Korea is still clinging to the last vestiges of winter, but spring is (finally) almost upon us. That means it’s festival season in the Land of the Morning Calm. (See a handy and comprehensive festival guide here). Beginning in March, there’s a new fest nearly every weekend. Themes run from the beautiful (cherry blossoms!) to the bizarre (anchovies?), and it seems that there’s a tribute to satisfy the most eclectic of tastes.

One of the more popular and impressive fests is in honor of the Jindo Sea Parting. In two weeks, Alex and I are going to play Moses when a changing of the tides causes the sea between Jindo and Modo islands to mysteriously part, leaving nearly three kilometers of dry land. Fest-goers can walk the path, collecting abalone and marveling at the natural phenomenon, all the while hoping that global warming hasn’t caused some cataclysmic shift that will cause the seas to come rushing down ahead of schedule.

We’ve read varying accounts of the fest, with some semi-reliable sources saying that this year’s celebrations are canceled to prevent the spread of Foot and Mouth Disease (darn that pesky virus!). But even if there aren’t any official activities, you can still get biblical with it and tackle the 40-meter-wide path on your own. We’ll be taking a bus directly from Daegu, but there are buses scheduled to travel to Jindo from several cities: here’s a bus schedule.

If you’d rather do a group thing (especially if you’re already in or near Seoul), check out this Facebook group. If you can spare the extra won for the sake of convenience, it includes the bus fare to Jindo, sleeping accommodations, insurance (they won’t be liable if you’re suddenly swallowed up by the sea) and an “entrance fee” (not really sure what this refers to).

And if you’re ready to start planning the rest of your Korean festival season, check out this list of events.

Photo courtesy of Contact Korea

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

Alex and Chickpea Do Southeast Asia: Thai Trippin’ – 13 things to do in Bangkok

We’re back in Korea and back to the grind. It’s the first day of the spring semester. Unfortunately, it doesn’t much feel like spring. I’m still dreaming of the warm weather, tropical fruit, green spaces and the impressive architecture of Bangkok, Thailand. We did too damn much while we were there to cover it all, but here are the highlights (and some suggestions if you find your way to this cosmopolitan Asian city):

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

Welcome to Korea, again: SHINee, ddukbokki and diary decoration in this edition of Letters from Korean Students

We’re back from our travels — and what travels they were. Southeast Asia was good to us (especially Thailand), but it was oddly comforting to be back in the land of anyeong haseyo, norae bang and Big Bang. That’s why I thought I’d share these sentiments from my students before launching into the tale of our myriad misadventures.

One of my winter camp lessons was on e-mail and letter writing. My kids were thrilled about the prospect of writing to my best friend Kalynn, once I convinced them that yes, she would really be reading their letters all the way in Florida.

So, without further ado, here are the burning questions my middle schoolers had for the world’s best biffle (entirely unedited, except for names):

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

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

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.

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

Korean student stress saga

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
Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

A guide to New Year’s Eve in Korea

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.

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

See EXCO’s Trick Art exhibit before it disappears

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!

Alex and Chickpea Do Korea

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

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…