The first time Luke and I rode a bus to Seoul we were surprised by two things. The first of these was the number of people fast asleep when we boarded the bus and the second thing was the tremendous speed at which the bus travelled (which made the first thing surprising all over again).
It was our third weekend in South Korea and Luke and I had decided it was time we ventured into Seoul. During the week Ellie had told me about the buses so we were all clued up on where to catch them, what number bus to take and where to get off. We didn't have to wait long before the number we were waiting for, a 1000, pulled up at the stop. We got on, paid the fare and turned to look for a seat. As we quickly surveyed the slumbering passengers and made our way to a seat, the bus lurched into motion and roared away from the stop. Struggling to remain upright we made it to a seat and, rather ungracefully, plonked ourselves into it. As the driver crunched through the gears and got the bus up to a ridiculously high speed, Luke and I shared a quiet laugh about the number of people sound asleep on the bus. It was a long time between stops and we wondered how many of the sleeping people were supposed to get off at the stop after ours and how many of them would wake up in time. We screeched to a halt at the next stop, Yonsei university, and Luke and I witnessed for the first time the amazing inner-alarm clocks of South Korean people..... at least 6 people woke up suddenly as the bus stopped, leapt out of their seats and made their way to the doors. Not only did they wake up as though someone had snapped their fingers to bring them out of a trance, they all looked fully awake, immediately! None of this yawning and stumbling groggily! They were up, off and clicking away in their heels and business shoes all in the time it would have taken me to yawn, rub my eyes and sleepily mumble "where are we?"
Luke and I were still amazed by this event when the bus took off again and holy moly! Did it ever move! We tore into Seoul at an incredible pace, the driver was a lead-foot in the extreme! We feared for our lives as he rounded corners on busy roads at crazy speeds and we wondered how on earth people managed to sleep in such situations, shouldn't they be holding on for dear life like we were? We arrived in Seoul with our nerves in tatters and decided that surely all the bus drivers weren't like that, they couldn't be, could they?
We spent the day wandering around the lovely and very vast city of Seoul and by the end of the day we were ready to face the bus ride home..... the driver on the trip home was worse. Not only was he an absolute speed-demon, he had clearly never been taught how to drive the bus properly. He crunched those gears every time he changed them and the poor bus sounded so sick I was sure the gear-box was going to drop out of it at any moment. Still, we made it home somehow and I must admit I felt a pang of sympathy for that driver every time he stalled it-I remember how that feels..... although I wasn't driving a bus!
Well, Luke and I now believe that the bus drivers of South Korea are in fact hired based on how fast they are willing to take corners and how much they are willing to dodge and weave through traffic. I could count the number of times we've had a cautious bus driver on one hand! The majority of them swerve in and out of their bus lane, use their horn liberally and over anything (or nothing) and like to approach stops at speeds which make you think they must have forgotten that people want to get off, then they SLAM on those breaks and send you flying into the people around you or the back of the seat in front of you. I was once "lucky" enough to be standing right next to the driver (the bus was so full I had no choice) and I was astounded to see on his speedo that he was hurtling around a bend at 90km/hr! Though really, I shouldn't have been surprised at all now I think about it.....
However, despite it all, there are still times when you will find Luke and I among those sleeping on the bus. Amazingly enough, we have gotten completely used to it and will now nod off and have a good old nap on the way home from a long day in Seoul. But while this may be so, I still thank my lucky stars every time I set foot on solid ground after a journey with a South Korean bus driver, I guess somebody, somewhere, is looking out for all those sleeping passengers.
Lucy
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
A Bit British
I've always considered myself to be an Aussie girl through and through. Indeed, I've taken this for granted to the point where I've hardly spared it a thought, it has always just been part of who I am without me ever having to assert it to anyone, including myself. I love being an Australian for so many reasons and I've always considered my Australian-ness to be a plain and obvious fact. Travelling overseas has shown me that this isn't always so.
This is my first overseas adventure and I have discovered that, while travelling sits very nicely with me and I plan to do a lot more of it in the coming years, I really do love my own country very much. I have also found myself feeling more patriotic than ever before, especially when people directly question my nationality. The first time this happened was in Itaewon. Ah Itaewon, the sleaziest corner of Seoul, well, by night it is anyway. Itaewon also happens to be a major foreigner hang-out and the place to go for Indian food as well as certain food items that are hard to come by, such as Milo. We may not like it much but we do pay Itaewon a visit every now and then and on this particular day we were heading for lunch at an Australian cafe. To say that this cafe is run by an Aussie would be an understatement. The cafe is run by the truest, bluest, most ocker Aussie I have ever met! He was once the drummer for the band "The Choir Boys" who toured here seven years ago. Well, he never left and while he'll happily run Korea into the ground in conversation, it's pretty plain to see that he has it good here and he won't be leaving any time soon. We entered the tiny cafe in the backstreets of Itaewon to find the footy on the t.v. and some very relaxed looking customers but nobody who looked like they worked there. We rang the bell on the counter and took a seat as we heard an indistinct yell come from somewhere out the back. He emerged from the back and greeted us with "g'day, what can I do ya for?" and we knew we'd found the right place. We chatted with him for a bit as we looked at the menu and he asked us where we were from. When I answered Adelaide he gave me a funny look and said "yeah, but where else are ya from?" I returned his funny look and said, "nowhere else, just Adelaide" to which he replied, "then what's with ya pommy accent?" I raised my eyebrows and assured him that I was an Australian, mate, and that was the truth whether I talked like an ocker Aussie or not. I have nothing against the British at all, but what was this guy on about? Just because I speak clearly and use correct grammar he has no right to go doubting my claim to being an Australian. Humph. Yes, I was a bit miffed. Still, he made great chips and a good burger so I forgave him and enjoyed a beer and the footy with the other patrons.
A similar thing happened to me again when I was getting my haircut at my usual salon. I was trying to explain what I wanted to my stylist but that day we just weren't on the same page. He was clearly struggling to understand me and he caught the eye of the manager, who speaks some English, for help. The manager came over and explained to me that my pronunciation was "a bit British" and that was why my stylist was having trouble understanding me. The second the words were out of his mouth I found myself firing back with "actually, I'm Australian." I really could have let this one go but no, something in me was not going to have anyone overlook where I come from. The manager corrected himself, looked a little awkward, and then translated what I wanted to my stylist so the haircut could get underway. As I was leaving he even gave me a free gift and I couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling a tad guilty about it all....
At school too, my nationality has caused some confusion among the staff. I think I have finally managed to let them all know that I am Australian but if they aren't aware, I will make them so before I leave this place. I have been asked about Canadian public holidays and the circulation of the New York Times but every time I set someone right about where I come from, I feel proud to be an Australian.
So, don't call me British, don't call me Canadian and please, don't call me American. I come from the land down under, the sunburnt country, I am Australian and mate, there ain't nothing surer than that.
Lucy
This is my first overseas adventure and I have discovered that, while travelling sits very nicely with me and I plan to do a lot more of it in the coming years, I really do love my own country very much. I have also found myself feeling more patriotic than ever before, especially when people directly question my nationality. The first time this happened was in Itaewon. Ah Itaewon, the sleaziest corner of Seoul, well, by night it is anyway. Itaewon also happens to be a major foreigner hang-out and the place to go for Indian food as well as certain food items that are hard to come by, such as Milo. We may not like it much but we do pay Itaewon a visit every now and then and on this particular day we were heading for lunch at an Australian cafe. To say that this cafe is run by an Aussie would be an understatement. The cafe is run by the truest, bluest, most ocker Aussie I have ever met! He was once the drummer for the band "The Choir Boys" who toured here seven years ago. Well, he never left and while he'll happily run Korea into the ground in conversation, it's pretty plain to see that he has it good here and he won't be leaving any time soon. We entered the tiny cafe in the backstreets of Itaewon to find the footy on the t.v. and some very relaxed looking customers but nobody who looked like they worked there. We rang the bell on the counter and took a seat as we heard an indistinct yell come from somewhere out the back. He emerged from the back and greeted us with "g'day, what can I do ya for?" and we knew we'd found the right place. We chatted with him for a bit as we looked at the menu and he asked us where we were from. When I answered Adelaide he gave me a funny look and said "yeah, but where else are ya from?" I returned his funny look and said, "nowhere else, just Adelaide" to which he replied, "then what's with ya pommy accent?" I raised my eyebrows and assured him that I was an Australian, mate, and that was the truth whether I talked like an ocker Aussie or not. I have nothing against the British at all, but what was this guy on about? Just because I speak clearly and use correct grammar he has no right to go doubting my claim to being an Australian. Humph. Yes, I was a bit miffed. Still, he made great chips and a good burger so I forgave him and enjoyed a beer and the footy with the other patrons.
A similar thing happened to me again when I was getting my haircut at my usual salon. I was trying to explain what I wanted to my stylist but that day we just weren't on the same page. He was clearly struggling to understand me and he caught the eye of the manager, who speaks some English, for help. The manager came over and explained to me that my pronunciation was "a bit British" and that was why my stylist was having trouble understanding me. The second the words were out of his mouth I found myself firing back with "actually, I'm Australian." I really could have let this one go but no, something in me was not going to have anyone overlook where I come from. The manager corrected himself, looked a little awkward, and then translated what I wanted to my stylist so the haircut could get underway. As I was leaving he even gave me a free gift and I couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling a tad guilty about it all....
At school too, my nationality has caused some confusion among the staff. I think I have finally managed to let them all know that I am Australian but if they aren't aware, I will make them so before I leave this place. I have been asked about Canadian public holidays and the circulation of the New York Times but every time I set someone right about where I come from, I feel proud to be an Australian.
So, don't call me British, don't call me Canadian and please, don't call me American. I come from the land down under, the sunburnt country, I am Australian and mate, there ain't nothing surer than that.
Lucy
Thursday, October 9, 2008
The Most Dangerous Animal
Over the past seven months, I have discovered a new side to my personality. I don't bring out this new side very often but that's probably just as well. I like to refer to it as "Angry Lucy Teacher" (thanks to my Korean students who call me "Lucy teacher").
Last semester Ellie and I finished the text-book work too quickly and so we had some spare lessons to fill with whatever we chose. We decided it would be best to split the classes into two groups based on their ability levels. I would work with the more advanced kids and Ellie would work with the ones who needed some extra help. The topic we chose was animals with a special focus on dangerous animals. So, armed with various sheets of information and a vague idea of what I was going to say I stood before my first class feeling really nervous! Luckily, I had to face the grade fives first, they are easier to engage and haven't quite reached that stage where it's cool to think everything is boring and crap. The class was going well until I realised that I was running out of material but not time. I thought quickly and came up with the idea of telling the kids a story. I searched my memory and decided to tell them about the time I got head-butted in the stomach by a cow. They listened as I told the story and laughed as I acted out parts and generally made a bit of a fool of myself (that's one thing I've learned here, the kids love that!) The story was a hit and I told it to all my grade five classes....
But then, it was time for the dreaded grade six. There was no way I was telling them my cow story so I had to come up with something else. I found a list of the "most dangerous animals" in the world on the internet complete with facts about the number of deaths per year these animals are responsible for. Aha, this was something the grade sixers might enjoy! It was all going well until one particular class walked in and decided they didn't want to play along..... Before I knew it I was in Angry Lucy Teacher mode and the class was in stunned silence. Oh boy, did I let them have it! I was furious. After I'd said (ok, shouted) my piece I continued on with the process of revealing to them the top 10 most dangerous animals in the world. When we got to number one, I posed the question ,"what do you think is the number one, most dangerous animal in the world?" and before anyone else could say a word, a student called out "YOU! Lucy teacher!" Wow. I didn't realised I'd been quite that scary! Still, I laughed and told them that perhaps this was true, but only when I was angry.
So, there you have it, I am now (according to certain grade six students) the most dangerous animal and for me, that's a good enough reason to keep Angry Lucy Teacher moments to a minimum! I just hope those kids won't always remember me that way....
Lucy
Last semester Ellie and I finished the text-book work too quickly and so we had some spare lessons to fill with whatever we chose. We decided it would be best to split the classes into two groups based on their ability levels. I would work with the more advanced kids and Ellie would work with the ones who needed some extra help. The topic we chose was animals with a special focus on dangerous animals. So, armed with various sheets of information and a vague idea of what I was going to say I stood before my first class feeling really nervous! Luckily, I had to face the grade fives first, they are easier to engage and haven't quite reached that stage where it's cool to think everything is boring and crap. The class was going well until I realised that I was running out of material but not time. I thought quickly and came up with the idea of telling the kids a story. I searched my memory and decided to tell them about the time I got head-butted in the stomach by a cow. They listened as I told the story and laughed as I acted out parts and generally made a bit of a fool of myself (that's one thing I've learned here, the kids love that!) The story was a hit and I told it to all my grade five classes....
But then, it was time for the dreaded grade six. There was no way I was telling them my cow story so I had to come up with something else. I found a list of the "most dangerous animals" in the world on the internet complete with facts about the number of deaths per year these animals are responsible for. Aha, this was something the grade sixers might enjoy! It was all going well until one particular class walked in and decided they didn't want to play along..... Before I knew it I was in Angry Lucy Teacher mode and the class was in stunned silence. Oh boy, did I let them have it! I was furious. After I'd said (ok, shouted) my piece I continued on with the process of revealing to them the top 10 most dangerous animals in the world. When we got to number one, I posed the question ,"what do you think is the number one, most dangerous animal in the world?" and before anyone else could say a word, a student called out "YOU! Lucy teacher!" Wow. I didn't realised I'd been quite that scary! Still, I laughed and told them that perhaps this was true, but only when I was angry.
So, there you have it, I am now (according to certain grade six students) the most dangerous animal and for me, that's a good enough reason to keep Angry Lucy Teacher moments to a minimum! I just hope those kids won't always remember me that way....
Lucy
Thursday, October 2, 2008
"What's that?"
As we spend 5 out of 7 lunchtimes a week at school, school lunches have become something of a talking point for Luke and I. Let's just say what we have to say isn't always positive...
On the whole, I really like South Korean food. Most of the time it is tasty and delicious and lovely and fresh. It is also wonderfully healthy! There really aren't very many fat Koreans walking around and their diet completely explains that. Unfortunately, school lunches are not the best ambassadors for Korean food. If you came to Korea and said you really wanted to try the food, I wouldn't take you to my school for lunch. (Mum and Dad, the day you were here actually wasn't too bad but I'm still glad that it wasn't your only taste of the food here!)
Where should I begin? School lunches usually consist of the following: soup, rice, kim-chi and two main dishes. The soup is often really spicy (too spicy for my tastes, that's for sure) and quite frequently involves large quantities of tofu, of which I am NOT a fan. As I told Ellie the first time tofu was on the menu, I don't particularly enjoy chewing on a wet sponge. The rice, well, the rice is sometimes the only thing I can eat so even though our current chef doesn't really have the knack for cooking it so that it doesn't resemble glue, I can't really complain too much about it. Kim-chi is spiced, pickled vegetable, usually cabbage, sometimes raddish. Koreans LOVE kim-chi! I don't mind it either (I prefer it on the bbq) but I don't usually pile my plate with it. The main dishes can either be really yummy or just downright wierd and awful.
One day, as I surveyed the lunch trolley and found chunks of tofu in red-hot sauce, tofu soup and some unrecognisable dish that appeared to be some kind of insect, I thought to myself "well, unrecognisable dish it is... with rice and kim-chi. Hooray". I took my lunch back to my seat, took up my chopsticks and paused to have a closer look at what I was about to eat. As I looked at my lunch, and it looked back at me; I decided that I wouldn't ask what 'it' was until I'd had my fill of whatever it was. This has become my general rule at lunch time because if you find something you can eat, it's sometimes best not to know what it is until after you've eaten all you want. I tentatively held one of the little critters up with my chopsticks, took a deep breath and put it in my mouth. And you know what? It wasn't that bad! It was a little salty but not unpleasantly so and it certainly beat tofu! I ate a few more, and then a few more. Before I knew it I was tucking in quite happily and hardly even thinking about the fact that my lunch was watching me through tiny little eyes.... After I'd had my fill I dared to ask the question. I leaned over to Ellie and asked "were those things insects?" She cracked up laughing and informed me that they were just dried anchovies and I laughed too. Oh, silly me! Here I was thinking I was eating a whole bunch of tiny insects when they were tiny fish all along..... hang on, that still creeps me out a little. I could still see their eyes and their spines and I'm not sure I like that.... Oh well, like I said, it was better than tofu.
These days, I don't find myself asking "what's that?" quite as often. I recognise most of what is served now and I know what I like and what I don't like. Curry, stew and sweet-potato chunks in honey are some of my favourites and I love it when there are pieces of crisp pear for dessert. I don't think I'll ever get into tofu but I still eat those tiny little fish when they're on the menu.... just with a little less enthusiasm!
Lucy
On the whole, I really like South Korean food. Most of the time it is tasty and delicious and lovely and fresh. It is also wonderfully healthy! There really aren't very many fat Koreans walking around and their diet completely explains that. Unfortunately, school lunches are not the best ambassadors for Korean food. If you came to Korea and said you really wanted to try the food, I wouldn't take you to my school for lunch. (Mum and Dad, the day you were here actually wasn't too bad but I'm still glad that it wasn't your only taste of the food here!)
Where should I begin? School lunches usually consist of the following: soup, rice, kim-chi and two main dishes. The soup is often really spicy (too spicy for my tastes, that's for sure) and quite frequently involves large quantities of tofu, of which I am NOT a fan. As I told Ellie the first time tofu was on the menu, I don't particularly enjoy chewing on a wet sponge. The rice, well, the rice is sometimes the only thing I can eat so even though our current chef doesn't really have the knack for cooking it so that it doesn't resemble glue, I can't really complain too much about it. Kim-chi is spiced, pickled vegetable, usually cabbage, sometimes raddish. Koreans LOVE kim-chi! I don't mind it either (I prefer it on the bbq) but I don't usually pile my plate with it. The main dishes can either be really yummy or just downright wierd and awful.
One day, as I surveyed the lunch trolley and found chunks of tofu in red-hot sauce, tofu soup and some unrecognisable dish that appeared to be some kind of insect, I thought to myself "well, unrecognisable dish it is... with rice and kim-chi. Hooray". I took my lunch back to my seat, took up my chopsticks and paused to have a closer look at what I was about to eat. As I looked at my lunch, and it looked back at me; I decided that I wouldn't ask what 'it' was until I'd had my fill of whatever it was. This has become my general rule at lunch time because if you find something you can eat, it's sometimes best not to know what it is until after you've eaten all you want. I tentatively held one of the little critters up with my chopsticks, took a deep breath and put it in my mouth. And you know what? It wasn't that bad! It was a little salty but not unpleasantly so and it certainly beat tofu! I ate a few more, and then a few more. Before I knew it I was tucking in quite happily and hardly even thinking about the fact that my lunch was watching me through tiny little eyes.... After I'd had my fill I dared to ask the question. I leaned over to Ellie and asked "were those things insects?" She cracked up laughing and informed me that they were just dried anchovies and I laughed too. Oh, silly me! Here I was thinking I was eating a whole bunch of tiny insects when they were tiny fish all along..... hang on, that still creeps me out a little. I could still see their eyes and their spines and I'm not sure I like that.... Oh well, like I said, it was better than tofu.
These days, I don't find myself asking "what's that?" quite as often. I recognise most of what is served now and I know what I like and what I don't like. Curry, stew and sweet-potato chunks in honey are some of my favourites and I love it when there are pieces of crisp pear for dessert. I don't think I'll ever get into tofu but I still eat those tiny little fish when they're on the menu.... just with a little less enthusiasm!
Lucy
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