Tag: Korea Life

My apologies for not updating in the past month. I spent much of April swamped with sick kids or sick me or, often, both. Even Aaron got in on a bit of the action.

The week before we left for Japan, the kids recovered from a double ear infection and tonsillitis (Lena) and an ear infection (Connery). Connery and I came down with another cold in Japan, and returned home with it. Just when we recovered from those, Connery caught a tummy bug. Then Lena came down with a cold and a double eye infection. Then Connery and I got the cold/eye infections. Then mine turned into bronchitis. Connery and I had not fully recovered by the time we went to Bangkok (yes, we wore masks on the plane), but were mostly over it by the time we returned home. Then Connery’s came back again.

Ugh.

It’s been pretty much this nonstop since both kids started school in January, and we’ve worn down a path from our apartment to the local clinic. (I’ll post more about Korean healthcare later.) Thankfully, we have all recovered and are all currently healthy. I’m being extra diligent with the neti pot, vitamins, and making sure everybody gets a full night’s sleep. Lord willing, we’re past the worst of it, now that winter is done and school will be wrapping up in the next few weeks (well, Connery’s school anyway).

In between bouts of sickness, we managed to do a few activities in April.

First was a visit to Seonjin-ri Fortress to view the cherry blossoms. The fortress is only a couple miles southwest of our apartment and, judging by the pack of buses in the parking lot, it seems to be a well-known spot for cherry blossom viewing. The road from the highway to the fortress is lined with cherry trees, and the entire fortress is covered with cherry trees. It was quite beautiful.

The evening we visited, there was a small festival set up in the parking lot of the fortress. Singers and bands were performing, vendors were selling everything from kitchen mitts to toys to nuts to large packs of seaweed (Aaron bought a head lamp), food vendors set up tents for Korean BBQ and others were selling waffles (kids tried) and corn dogs (Aaron tried), there were games (Connery did well) and even a large swinging boat ride (kids refused).

Because our neighborhood is a foreign investment zone, there are a number of foreigners around and I think the local Koreans are accustomed to this. So, I tend to forget that a lot of Koreans, especially down here in the countryside, are not used to seeing foreigners. In particular, foreign kids. Consequently, among the many Korean sight-seers visiting Seonjin-ri, our children were very popular. Those with kids asked to take pictures of their kids with our kids. Those without kids smiled and waved and said “Hello!” and commented on Connery and Lena’s hair/eyes/attractiveness. At one point, we asked a couple to take a family picture of us with our camera. Our camera. And yet somehow it quickly turned into a paparazzi-esque situation where a crowd of people gathered around and everybody started taking pictures of us with their cameras. Granted, the kids were being extra cute trying not to squint in the sunlight, but still… it was kinda weird.

Really, I can’t complain too much about unwanted attention, because Koreans generally are extremely friendly and helpful and even the grumpiest-looking ajumma will blossom into a springtime garden at the sight of one of Lena’s kindergarten-trained greeting bows (feet together, hands together on belly, a full 90° bow).

Fun fact #1: Seonjin-ri Fortress is said to be the place where Admiral Yi Sun-Sin built his infamous turtle ships in the 1500s. The ships were first used in combat at the Battle of Sacheon in 1592, when Admiral Yi didn’t let a bullet to the arm stop him from decimating a vastly overpowered Japanese naval force. What is a turtle ship? Despite the cute name, turtle ships, or geobukseon, were ingenious and fearsome armored boats (the world’s first armored boats, in fact) designed by Admiral Yi specifically to combat invading Japanese warships. Since the Japanese used ship-to-ship boarding as a battle tactic, turtle ships were covered with a spiky metal shell, making it impossible for anybody to board them during combat. There were oars in addition to masts and sails in order to increase speed (for brief periods) and maneuverability (they could turn on their own radius), a dozen cannons on each side, two more in the front and back, an underwater battering ram for close combat, and as if this wasn’t bada** enough, they also had a dragon head on the front of the ship that would release toxic smoke and shoot flames. Turtle ships played a key role in helping Korea repel the Japanese invasions, and they remained in use until the 19th century.

Fun fact #2: Of all the American foods to adopt… apparently, corn dogs are a thing here. I noticed a lot of fancy versions being sold by street vendors when we were in Seoul: bacon-wrapped, potato-wrapped, seaweed-wrapped, etc. I’ve seen shops selling them at highway rest stops, at festivals, and just this month a new corn dog shop opened in our neighborhood. I’ve always hated corn dogs, mostly because the corn bread wrapping is so fake and gross. But in Korea, they use a more pancake-y wrapping, and it’s surprisingly good!

Now that the weather’s warming up, we’ve explored some of the nearby parks and walking trails. I seriously regret not bringing my bike to Korea. I may have to go buy one, because the gorgeous temperatures and all this pretty green stuff everywhere are just begging me to come out for a leisurely ride. Beyond Connery’s school is a nice big park with a pond and a stream and a fountain and picnic tables (Korean style) and paths through the woods and a big grassy field and sport courts. All it needs is an ice cream/froyo shop to be truly perfect.

On Easter weekend, the expat community here held a picnic and Easter egg hunt in a local park. We mistakenly thought it was the nearby fancy park, so just walked over carrying our potluck contribution and (Aaron’s) beer. But, alas, it was the park beyond the fancy park. And you know how sometimes things don’t look that far on a map, but then you start walking and you keep walking and walking and, oh my goodness, how much farther is it now?? And I totally didn’t wear the right shoes for this. And for pity’s sake, Lena, stop whining!

In the end, I think it was a bit much for the little girl, as she came down with her double eye infection/cold a few hours later. (Bad mom…)

Anyway, it was an enjoyable picnic. We got to meet some new people. Somebody brought homemade cinnamon rolls! A bunch of the international school teachers were there, so the games and egg hunt were super well organized and equitable. My kids got a bunch of chocolate, which Aaron and I not-so-equitably plundered once we got home.

Given the lovely weather (occasional Yellow Dust storms notwithstanding), April is also the month of school field trips. In Lena’s kindergarten, they are called “Forest Walks.” I chaperoned Connery’s field trip to a local science museum and the arboretum. His class also went to the fortress to see the cherry blossoms and took a walking field trip to the weekly neighborhood street market. Lena’s school doesn’t take parent chaperones, but her class also visited the arboretum and took separate trips to a local park and to the climate school. There are other field trips throughout the year, but it seems like they really ramp it up in April.

Fun fact #3: We’ve been fortunate to have only one Yellow Dust storm so far this season. It came in the weekend before last and was supposed to last all week, but a big storm came in midweek and seemingly cleared the air. What is Yellow Dust? Yellow Dust, or hwangsa, is a dust storm that begins in the deserts of Mongolia and northern China, but due to wind patterns and meteorological conditions, grows to ridiculous sizes and blows across most of China, Korea, Japan, and parts of eastern Russia before finally blowing out to sea. (Although particulates have blown as far east as the US.) It is as if a dust storm in Phoenix grew in size and intensity to cover all of Arizona, Utah, Nevada, and California before blowing out to Hawaii. The phenomenon is ancient, and appears in records thousands of years ago. However, hwangsa has worsened in the last several decades, becoming bigger, lasting longer, and occurring more often throughout the year (not just in spring) because of climate change, desertification, and the loss of trees in northern China. And in addition to the large particulates, these storms now pick up industrial pollutants, chemicals, and even viruses and bacteria from China, making them toxic dust storms. I’m sure you can imagine the effect this has on people’s health, farmland, wildlife, and marine life and corals. Perhaps, if this trend continues, we’ll begin to see more of these particulates showing up in the US? Something to keep in mind the next time you buy that cheap whatever made in China.

Spring is coming!

The Korean school year began this month, and Lena started in a new class at her kindergarten. Despite the growing number of expat kids at the school, Lena is the only English-speaker in her class. There are pros and cons to this.

On the pro side, it really pushes me to learn and practice Korean. At this age, my brain is more of a pumice stone than a sponge, so anything that forces repetition and memorization is a good thing. Lena’s teacher is super sweet and understanding, so she’s patient with me and offers thumbs-up when I get something right. Although, sometimes, she beats me to it. I’ll spend the entire walk on my way to pick up Lena mumbling, 내일 뵙겠습니다…내일 뵙겠습니다…내일 뵙겠습니다…* to make sure I get it right, then just before I can say it, her teacher will blurt out, “See you tomorrow!” She doesn’t speak much English, but apparently she is also using this opportunity to learn more. Usually, we just text each other, since Google Translate helps with that.

On the con side, we sometimes have communication issues with the school on technical issues. A couple of teachers at the international school have kids at this kindergarten, so they have been amazingly helpful, but there’s still a communication gap there. For instance, we need to pay our milk fees. We keep offering to pay our milk fees, but they won’t give us a milk fee bill. We also had to fight to get a bill for education expenses (and, no, it didn’t include milk fees). I don’t care if the bill is in Hangul, just take my money!

And lastly, on both the pro and con side is Lena’s lack of Korean. The school is a great place for her to learn some Korean, but she kind of doesn’t care so isn’t really trying. We now have put the kids in after school Korean lessons in our home, so that should help. But because she’s not trying, she’s missing out on opportunities. For example, one day in music class the kids got to play with ribbons on sticks (the type rhythmic gymnasts use). I noticed later in the photos that Lena was standing to the side without one when all the other kids were dancing around and laughing. I asked her why she didn’t have a ribbon stick, and she told me that the teacher handed her a yellow ribbon and she said, “aniyo,” (“no”) because she wanted the red ribbon stick. But the teacher thought she didn’t want any ribbon stick so didn’t give her one. Lena and I talked about what she could do next time (even pointing would help), and I’m sure she’ll eventually get more comfortable expressing herself. I’ve actually already seen improvement just this month.

But overall I really like this little school. They do a lot of fun things with the kids. I signed up Lena for their weekly ballet class, which she loves. They also have PE classes, posture and health classes, cooking classes, art and music classes, field trips and nature walks, English lessons… they even started ukulele lessons this week. There’s lunch and two snacks each day, and lots of play time. Lena usually plays house or teatime with a couple of the Korean girls.

I’d love to help in class, if possible. There’s not much I can do with my crummy Korean skills. Maybe read a book in English to the kids? I need to figure out how to ask about that.

*“See you tomorrow,” in formal speech, is the tongue-twisting “naeil bwepgetsumnida”… I can say it in my head, but it doesn’t always come out of my mouth correctly.

**Fun fact: “Ballerina” in Hangul, 발레리나, includes Lena’s name: 리나  (ㄹ is both L and R)

A couple weeks ago, Korea celebrated Samiljeol (literally, “three one festival”) or Independence Movement Day. It takes place on March 1 (hence the 3-1) and commemorates the Korean people’s mass demonstrations against Japanese colonial rule that began on March 1, 1919.

A full discussion of the Japanese occupation (1910-1945) will have to wait for another day, but suffice to say: the Japanese were total jerks and Koreans hate them to this day. Well, the first part is a bit of an understatement and the second is a bit of an overstatement, but there’s still a lot of bad blood there. Some people say, “It was 100 years ago! Things are different! Japanese young people weren’t involved in all that…” While this is true and the world is a different place today, it’s also true that the Japanese were really, really big jerks (read: monarch assassination, destruction of cultural artifacts, banning the language, stealing land, and eventually forced prostitution, slave labor, and even concentration-camp-style medical experiments), and they haven’t fully atoned for it, and they kinda whitewash it in school history books, so… yeah. It’s a complicated situation.

But on that day, a group of Christian,* Buddhist, and Cheondogyo** religious leaders and nationalists read out a Korean Declaration of Independence, inspired by US President Wilson’s “Fourteen Points.” This sparked a series of mass protests throughout the country. An estimated 2,000,000 Koreans participated in largely peaceful protests over the course of several months.

Japanese response was, not surprisingly, rather harsh. (Colonial rulers are never nice.) Thousands of Koreans were killed, thousands more wounded, tens of thousands were arrested, tried and executed, and hundreds of homes, churches and even a couple schools were destroyed. Many of the movement leaders fled to China and began the Korean Provisional Government, a sort of Korean government in absentia.

And while independence was not granted, many historians believe this movement and its nationalist fervor signify the beginning of modern Korea. After quashing the protests, Japan appointed a new governor-general and even gave Korea a bit more freedom. At least, until Japan started up its military war machine in the 1930s and colonial oppression got way, way worse. Independence finally came when Japan surrendered to the Allies in 1945. But Korea was then divided up between the Americans and the Soviets, which led to the Korean War in 1950 and millions more Korean deaths… But, again, that’s a discussion for another time.

Today, Samil is a national holiday with schools and businesses closing, so both Aaron and the kids had the day off. We took the opportunity to visit the Goseong Dinosaur Museum. It was pretty busy, as many other families had the same idea.

There’s not much to say about the museum itself. It’s a dino museum, with a bunch of dino bones and dino statues. One room full of animatronic dinos required entry through a large, gaping dino mouth – you pass under sharp teeth and walk along his tongue. It’s dark, with growling noises, and my kids wanted none of it. Lena eventually took my hand and squealed her way through, but Connery required a bit more coaxing. Aaron pointed to the wall behind him and said, “What is that??” Connery turned to look and Aaron took the opportunity to grab the boy, hoist him over his shoulder, and run through the mouth. After that, Connery said the dino mouth was his favorite part. … Sometimes, I really wonder how child minds work.

We didn’t spend much time in the museum, because the highlight of the museum is actually its grounds. The property sits along the top of a hill right on the coast. The views are fantastic (though it was somewhat smoggy the day we were there), and dino-themed playgrounds are scattered everywhere along the hill. There are walking paths, a hedge maze, a collection of random animals (deer, peacocks and rabbits), a small coffee shop and a cup-noodles café, picnicking areas, and a (currently under construction) observation tower. One path leads to a nearby beach with one of the world’s largest dinosaur footprint fossil sites. We skipped the fossils this time around, because it was a kilometer away and we ran out of time after our GPS sent us to some random town a half hour past the museum. But at $3 a head, we’ll definitely be back.

*I kind of wonder if the reason Christianity took hold in Korea is because of this association with Korean nationalism. In most other Asian nations I’ve visited, Christianity was historically seen as a religion of colonial oppressors or foreign influence.

**Cheondogyo is a Korean religion with Confucian and shamanistic roots that began in the 19th century. It emphasizes improving oneself and bringing peace and justice to earth, rather than a belief in a supernatural God or afterlife. There are about a million followers in South Korea, and apparently triple that in North Korea.

We’ve settled into a somewhat predictable and boring, though for me quite enjoyable, Saturday afternoon ritual: our weekly trip to E-mart.

E-mart is Korea’s oldest and largest hypermarket chain. It was created in 1993 as a division of Shinsegae, Korea’s oldest and largest department store chain. (And Shinsegae Centum City in Busan is literally the largest department store in the world, according to Guinness.) E-mart became its own company in 2011.

Side note: The first department store in Korea was built in 1930 by Mitsukoshi, a Japanese chain, during the Japanese occupation (1910-1945). (Mitsukoshi began as a kimono shop in 1693!) When Korea was liberated after WWII, the store became independent and changed its name to Donghwa department store. In 1963, it was purchased by the Samsung group and renamed Shinsegae (“New World”). Shinsegae separated from Samsung in 1991, though it was run by the daughter of Samsung’s founder.

Side side note: The oldest hotel in Korea is The Chosun Hotel, opened in 1914. It was purchased by Shinsegae and called the Shinsegae Chosun Hotel, but they joined The Westin Group in 1995 and it is now called the Westin Chosun Hotel (still owned by Shinsegae). This was the first hotel we stayed in upon arriving in Seoul, and where we returned for Christmas. Shinsegae also owns Starbucks Coffee Korea. You’ll see ads for the Westin Chosun and, frequently, find Starbucks shops in E-mart locations. Unfortunately, my local E-mart does not have the latter.

In case you are unfamiliar with the term, “hypermarket” refers to a large store that is both a supermarket and a department store. They’ve been around since the 1930s, but exploded in popularity during the 1980s and 90s thanks to Walmart, Kmart, and Target developing hypermarket versions of their stores.

I’m sure you are familiar, though, with the much-ballyhooed detrimental effect of hypermarkets on smaller neighborhood retailers. In 2012, Korea’s government sought to protect their mom-and-pop stores by introducing mandatory Sunday closings for their super- and hypermarkets (E-mart, Home Plus, Lotte Mart, Costco, etc). On the second and fourth Sundays each month, these stores must remain closed for the day. We learned about these closings the hard way, after driving down to E-mart and finding it dark and roped off. Assuming it was a holiday we were not aware of, we drove instead to Bi-Mart (a small grocery store nearby) and found it busier than usual. So maybe the closings work? I’m not sure. I haven’t seen any statistics on whether or not these closings are having an effect, aside from annoying shoppers.

E-mart reminds me a bit of Target, but with Korean flair. It is important to note that “Korean flair” is a key factor in E-mart’s success. Walmart moved into Korea in 1998, but after continuing losses sold all 16 of its stores to Shinsegae in 2006 to be revamped and reopened as E-mart locations. Koreans apparently were not very big fans of Walmart’s lack of emphasis on food or its bare-bones discount vibe. What little I’ve seen leads me to believe that Koreans want quality and service, and, sorry Walmart, but when I think “Walmart” I don’t follow that up with “quality and service.” In fact, some of the worst service I’ve ever encountered in my life has been at Walmart. I try to avoid the place myself.

Now that I think about it, most American retailers have pretty crappy service. Korea kicks us in the bootie when it comes to service in general. They still have full service gas stations here; we’ve yet to even get out of our car when fueling up. And even their “discount” retailers like E-mart are swarming with extremely polite and extremely helpful employees – people who act like they don’t mind at all when you pick up a bag of spaghetti noodles, not realizing one side is open, and proceed to drop a million noodle sticks all over the floor.

Anyway, our local E-mart is a few stories high, with parking and specialty shops on each level and the main store in the basement. Our E-mart is smaller and has a more provincial feel than other E-marts I’ve been to in larger cities. For example, ours has a coffee shop and a café, but the E-mart we stopped at in Busan had a Starbucks and an entire food court with at least a half dozen chain restaurants like Baskin Robbins and KFC. Ours also has a kids’ play zone (this is extremely important, and the reason I shop at E-mart and not Home Plus), a salon, some kind of health clinic, some kind of studio for home economic classes, a dry cleaner, and several stores-within-a-store for specialty items like camping gear, cosmetics, baby gear, watches, home goods. They’re all brand name mini-stores, but I’m afraid I can’t remember the names right now.

The main shopping level has about the same variety of items as Target, but with a larger share for grocery. The grocery section has a vibe that’s like ‘a modern take on a bustling outdoor market.’ Salespeople wearing shirts with product logos offer samples of their products. Other employees offer samples of fruits or yogurt or potato chips. Butchers shout out the daily prices for fish and meat. Employees also shout out veggie prices, and if they have a seasonal area (as they did for Lunar New Year), there’s usually somebody shouting there, as well. There’s a large meat department with various tanks of fresh seafood, usually massive crabs. There’s also a bakery and a tiny pizza shop. Last week, they introduced a new bulgogi pizza, and the constant stream of people walking through the store with fresh bulgogi pizzas made the entire place smell of delicious cooked meats. (And made hungry shoppers buy crap they didn’t need.)

I really like our E-mart excursions. We check the kids into the play zone (they love, love, love it – it has a climby thing with a slide and a ball pit with pneumatic tubes!), and then Aaron and I spend an hour or two wandering around, hungry, buying crap we don’t need.

We finish up with dinner in the café. It’s comfort food, at best, but very yummy. The kids’ plate has katsu, rice, french fries, canned fruit, shredded cabbage, and ice cream. Aaron and I usually get the katsu and omurice plate, with cabbage, kimchi, pickled radish, and seaweed soup. I mildly suspect we got a touch of food poisoning there last week, but whatevs. Still yummy.

And I’ll be going back next weekend for more.

Yesterday was Daeboreum, the Great Full Moon holiday. It celebrates the first full moon of the lunar year, and traditionally was a time when Koreans would pray for health and for a good harvest in the coming year.
We hadn’t heard of this holiday previously, but noticed last weekend that somebody was building a large bonfire in a field south of the school. Bonfires, or daljip (“moon house”) as the structure is called, are a central part of this holiday. Historically, every community would build one on the edge of their village. Daljip taeugi (“burning the moon house”) is the ritual of burning the daljip in order to bring fortune and prevent evil. It is set alight just as the full moon begins to rise. In the past, people would shout their wishes at the daljip, but today people write wishes on strips of paper and tie it to the daljip in the days leading up to Daeboreum.

There are a host of other rituals and foods traditionally associated with Daeboreum. Before breakfast, a family would drink a rice wine called gwibalgisul (“ear-sharpening liquor”). Drinking gwibalgisul at this time of day was believed to improve one’s hearing. Gwibalgisul was also believed to have the ability to dispel spirits, and was therefore served cold (rather than hot like most rice wines) to retain this ability. Everybody in the family would drink together; even children would “wet their lips.”
For breakfast, people would eat ogokbap (“five grain rice”) and sharing it with three neighbors was said to bring luck. (I can’t help but think this must have turned into a who-makes-the-best-ogokbap competition amongst the villagers.) I saw ogokbap in the store, so I assume it is still eaten today. Yaksik or yakbap (“medicinal rice”) is a yummy sounding concoction of sticky rice, honey, sesame oil, chestnuts, pine nuts, and jujubes. Both ogokbap and yakbap were nutritious meals for the middle of winter.
Nerdy historian side note: A record of Korean customs written in 1849 states that yakbap originated in the Silla Dynasty (57 BC – 935 AD). Another text from the early 1800s says yakbap is eaten on the 15^th of the first lunar month (time of the first full moon) in a custom unique to Korea. The Samguk Yusa of 1281 describes a legend called Sageumgap about the origin of Ogiil, “Crow Memorial Day.” I’ve read a few different versions of this legend online, so I’m not sure what the original text says, but all involve a crow saving the life of King Soji of Silla on the 15^th day of the first lunar month in 488 AD. This day became Ogiil, and the sticky rice offered to the crow in thanks became a traditional meal for that day. Given these records, many people trace the origins of yakbap to this time. My favorite version of the legend involves cryptic messages, intrigue, murder plots, manslaughter, and the queen and a monk getting frisky in a zither case. HISTORY IS AWESOME! Other records from the Joseon Dynasty (1392 – 1897 AD) attribute the origin of yakbap to Chinese envoys, but I’m going with the zither case version.

Bureom, or nuts, are another Daeboreum food. Koreans would crack open nuts with their teeth to keep their teeth healthy for the year (seems a tad counter-productive to me, depending on the nut, and I’m fairly certain they don’t do this anymore) and to prevent boils and skin infections. Apparently, the cracking sound of the nuts would also scare away evil spirits.
There are various traditional games and activities, as well: tug-of-war, kite flying, selling your heat, crossing a bridge at night to protect your legs for the year, and jwibulnori. The only one of these I witnessed myself was jwibulnori. In this “game,” children swing around a can full of blazing charcoal – wheee! – and it is said to help protect the new crops. It sounds like a parental nightmare, but jwibulnori actually serves a rather practical purpose. The fires are used to burn dry grass around rice paddies and fields in order to kill off insects and vermin. In fact, we saw several farmers around our area setting their fields on fire that afternoon.
Just before sunset on Daeboreum, people started gathering around the field with our local daljip. I say “our local daljip,” because we saw a couple other daljips around the area. (This whole region is very agricultural.) The road was lined with cars, people were walking over from the apartment complexes, food stalls were set up in the courtyard of the Korean elementary school, somebody was talking over a PA system, and a traditional Korean drum line was marching around the daljip.

We arrived just as the sun was setting and the moon was rising. We squeezed our way through the crowd, climbed down a few rocks, and found a spot along a concrete road that borders the field. Several men took torches to the base of the daljip and everybody cheered as the flames spread and grew. 

The drummers continued drumming while the crowd snapped pictures with cell phones, and slowly started to disperse. It was pretty cold, and the wind quickly pushed the cold into my gloves and jeans, so I had little desire to linger either. I’m pretty sure the only warm ones around were the drummers, because they were playing frighteningly close to a 30-foot tower of flame.

I read an article in the Korea Times that expressed concerns over the fact that Valentine’s Day was seemingly becoming more popular among young Korean city-dwellers today than the other early-February holiday, Daeboreum. I suppose if you were a child living in Seoul, surrounded by nothing but high-rises, you would have no idea behind the meaning or purpose of jwibulnori. It would simply be a fun game spinning around cans of fire. But down here in the south, surrounded by farms, it all makes a lot more sense. In our local E-mart, the Valentine’s Day candy display sat right next to the Daeboreum nuts and grains display. I’m pretty sure they will continue celebrating Daeboreum here for years to come. After all, who doesn’t like standing around a massive bonfire?

We celebrated my birthday this week. I am almost to the half way point, getting creakier by the year. But we don’t need to talk about that right now… let’s talk about a more exciting celebration!
Korea celebrated Seollal the last weekend in January. Seollal, or Korean New Year, is the first day of the Korean lunar calendar and one of their biggest celebrations of the year. It is a 3 (or 4) day public holiday, and a time when everybody returns home or gathers with their families for fun, food, and games. Or, if our language teacher’s facial expression was to be believed, just food and games. And maybe not even games.
In case you are wondering how it is calculated, the first day of the lunar calendar is the day of the second new moon after winter solstice. … Yeah, I didn’t know that either.
Historically, Seollal was packed full of religious significance. Some of that lingers today, but from what I’ve heard, many of the traditions now are just traditions. It’s kind of like Christmas in America: religious for some, not so much for others, a time for families to get together and exchange gifts and eat a bunch of specific foods that the new daughter-in-law is begrudgingly forced to cook.
In the weeks leading up to Seollal, stores were filled with a variety of gift packs. And yes, do I mean variety. We saw everything from traditional berry wines (we bought some to try) and whole ginseng all the way to shampoo and fancy body soaps. There were traditional confectionaries, persimmons, Asian pears, oranges, socks, undies, lotions, facial care products, tooth care products, crazy looking mushrooms, oils, vinegars, seaweed, “flavors of the sea” spices, Spam, nuts, anchovies, and my personal favorite: nuts and anchovies. I desperately wanted to take pictures of all these things, but in every store we visited, the Seollal Gift Box section was swarming with sales ladies who would pounce the second you paused in front of anything.
“No, thank you, I’m not really interested in… what is that? It looks like something you’d get arrested for growing in rural Colorado.”
I managed to take just one shot by standing still in an aisle, mumbling, and pretending to reply angrily to a text message until it got awkward and the hovering sales lady walked away.

Our E-Mart also had a section set up for children’s hanbok and accessories and bokjumeoni – silk money bags. The bokjumeoni are for the sebae, or “elder worship” ritual. Dressed in hanbok, children honor their grandparents and elders by offering a deep bow and wishing them good fortune in the new year. Grandparents then give the children sebaetdon, or new year’s money, in bokjumeoni.
I am glad our store had this section, because I received a text from Lena’s teacher one night telling me that they were going to have a Seollal party the next day, and to send her with hanbok. So the girl and I ran to the store before it closed, confused a sales lady with my awful pronunciation of 그녀는 학교에 한복이 필요하다 (I finally just typed it and showed it to her; she understood, but I realized later that’s the wrong word for “she” and I forgot to properly conjugate “to need”… oh, well), picked out a pretty one, then came home to try it on. Lena loves her “pretty Korean dress.” She performed several interesting dances for me, which she insisted were dances that “people who wear this dress do.”

At Lena’s school Seollal party, the kids got all dressed up in their hanbok and played some traditional games, such as yutnori, the throw-marked-sticks-on-a-board game. Lena said this was her favorite. There was also the throw-sticks-into-a-pot game, throw-rings-on-a-stick game, shake-a-fuzzy-thing game, and tug-of-war. At the end, all the children practiced their sebae.

Side note: A classmate apparently taught Connery how to do sebae also, so the kids drew us New Year cards and performed a bow for Aaron and me on Seollal. It was pretty cute. It would have been a lot cuter had Connery not been in his underwear at the time, but whatever.
The children did not get any sebaetdon at Lena’s school party, but walking home that day, a grandpa hanging out at the roasted hazelnut food truck saw Lena and lost his mind. He talked with us for quite a bit. I have no idea what he was saying, but I heard something about Seollal and Korean culture and he just seemed really excited. He gave Lena a bunch of hazelnuts while saying something about grandmother and grandfather (two of the few words I recognize). Then, he forced her to bow and gave her money… which wasn’t as creepy as it sounds.
I’d read somewhere that a couple years ago there was a New Year’s Eve celebration up in Jinju at Jinjuseong, the fortress. I couldn’t find anything about it this year, though, or any other place that had celebrations or fireworks. I couldn’t even find any celebrations on TV. All I could find was the CCTV New Year’s Gala, aka the Spring Festival Gala, aka Chunwan, the big Chinese song and dance spectacle watched by over 700 million people each year, making it one of the most – some say the most – watched TV program in the world. There were hundreds, probably thousands, of performers, all of whom were amazing. Lots of costumes, lots of sets, lots of sparkles and smiles and makeup, lots of rows upon rows of people all in perfect coordination. And lots and lots and LOTS of CGI.
Beginning: “WHOA! How did they do that??”One hour in: “Wow! How did… wait a minute…”Two hours in: “Yeah, that’s totally fake.”Ending: Aaron walks in.  Aaron: “WHOA! How on earth do you make chicken-shaped fireworks??”  Meg: “CGI.”  Aaron: “……Ahhh, yeah. I see it now.”
In fact, I heard that fireworks were banned in northern China this year due to the ongoing smog problem.

The day of Seollal, we didn’t do much. I tried making tteokguk, a traditional soup made of tteok (rice cake) and beef broth and topped with things like sliced beef, eggs, peppers, and seaweed. I found a recipe that was pretty simple, hoping the kids would try it. Boil beef broth and add the tteok. Separate an egg yolk from the whites. Fry the yolk like a thin pancake, then slice. Add the egg whites to the soup after the tteok become soft and start floating. Ladel into bowls and top with egg yolk slices, etc. I’ve read various things about tteokguk: it will add a year to your life; the tteok are coin sliced to symbolize prosperity; it represents you turning one year older;* you must eat one tteok for each year of your age (no idea how this works past age 20 or so).
I thought it was pretty yummy. How about the kids?

That night, we tried another new meal: a bbq at the table with our brand new MASTER J portable grill. The Master J is fabulous. It comes with a grilled meats top that has vents for grease and also a deep pan with a lid. (And it cleans up like a dream.) The kids loved it. Some beef and pork and marinated chicken, mushrooms, sprouts, carrots and peppers, sliced garlic cloves, rice on the side, soy sauce and fermented spicy soybean paste. Ohhhhhh, yeah. The kids loved it so much, in fact, that they insisted we do it again the next night. Only, we skipped the beef second time around, because those six thin slices cost something like $30.

On the last day of the holiday weekend, we drove up to Jinjuseong to visit a Seollal cultural festival at the Jinju National Museum. Entrance was free for the holiday. The festival was… somewhat anticlimactic. In fact, it was little more than a few scattered tables and since I didn’t know what to do at them, we just skipped it. But since entrance was free, we wandered around the museum for a while and, if you know me, you know I love me some museum. Ancient pots and swords and manuscripts and turtle boat replicas and centuries-old Japanese graphic novels and a big model of what the fortress used to look like. And let me just say, those medieval Japanese knew how to craft some intimidating armor. Jinjuseong was the site of several battles with the frequently-invading Japanese, and there are some fabulous stories to be told (more on that later).
The fortress grounds, and especially the museum, were full of people. There were families and young people everywhere.
“How cool so many people came out here for the holiday,” I thought. “Although, they sure are spending a lot of time on their phones.”
Aaron noticed it, too. After glancing at a passing phone, he suddenly laughed and said, “Oh, yeah. Pokémon Go launched in Korea last week.”
That’s right. Every single person there was playing Pokémon Go. Free entrance = free chance to catch some rare pokémon. Should we join them? … Meh. I’ve got enough on my to-do list as it is.

*Korean age calculation is a bit different than in the west. When you are born, you are 1. Then, you add a year at New Year’s. So, for example, my niece who was born in November, would be considered 2 years old the following January, even though by our calculation she was only 2 months old. Now, they also have a “birthday age” that is more like western calculations, and this is used for things like legal drinking age, etc. Schools, though, use the Korean system. That means Lena, who is 4, will be starting in the 6-year-olds class at her Korean school when the new school year begins in March.

We’ve only been in Korea for a couple months, but I have to say that we are enjoying it. Our district is beautiful, the food is yummy (well, most of it), people are nice, and it’s safe and clean. I would like to be better with language (more on that later), but nearly all the Koreans we encounter are kind and patient with our painful mangling of their native tongue. While there are some inconveniences, so far we have only noticed one big downside to living in Korea.

Smog.

Specifically: Chinese smog.

That’s right, all that nasty off-the-charts hazardous smog you’ve been hearing about in China lately (if you follow international news) blows across the Yellow Sea and right over the Korean peninsula.

I have this app on my phone that shows me air quality readings nearby. It even has a little map that lets you see air quality readings throughout Korea. If I check it frequently enough, I can tell when smog is coming, because I’ll notice some reds pop up on the west coast. Then, they start moving east, towards our district, then on to Busan, and often all the way to Kumamoto in southern Japan.

What are “reds”? It’s an Unhealthy air quality reading. Here’s the air quality index…

On a normal day, most of Korea should be greens and yellows. Maybe orange. To be fair, Korea creates many of its own smog problems, but primarily in the big cities. Seoul can get pretty nasty all by itself. But we live in a small town on the coast. Even with diesel vehicles and farmers burning rubbish piles, we should not have a major problem with particulates.

Here’s a map of Korea on what I would call a “mixed” day. Seoul is that big cluster on the upper left, and Busan is the bottom right.

See those reds popping up on the west coast? Where could they be coming from?

Want an actual picture? Here’s a satellite photo of China. All those brown clouds you see are smog.

And here’s that smog blowing towards Korea.

It’s pretty ugly from ground level, too. These photos were taken from my living room…

What is causing all this hellish smog in China? Well, it’s a somewhat complex answer involving economic development, mountain ranges, humidity levels, atmospheric layers, rising global temperatures altering air flow in the northern hemisphere, and various poorly understood interactions between sulfates, nitrogen oxides, water vapor, and particulates.

But the short answer is: coal, coal, and more coal.

Coal is a dirty, dirty source of energy, but we’ve been using it for thousands of years (intensely since the Industrial Revolution) and just can’t seem to kick the habit. In fact, coal consumption worldwide increased over 70% from 2000 to 2013, and is projected to increase more with development in India and Southeast Asia. Today, China accounts for half of global coal consumption.

In the face of public outrage over shrinking life expectancy and the millions (yes, millions) of premature deaths each year due to air pollution, the Chinese government announced plans in 2013 to tackle the country’s pollution problems. They gave their environmental regulations some enforcement power, closed many of the worst-polluting factories, set limits on car sales, and banned coal burning in urban areas. China now leads the world in renewable energy investment. These measures, along with a general economic slowdown, are helping to a certain degree. Each of the past few years has seen a decrease in the highest concentrations of PM2.5 (small particulates… the ones that can get into your bloodstream and wreak havoc with your cardiovascular system), as well as a decrease in the number of red, purple, and brown days.

But they have a long way to go. Just this past month, Northeast China experienced its longest stretch of severe smog days, and during that time some cities in the area recorded air quality readings approaching 1000. (Note that the chart above stops at 500.)

Lest you mock the Chinese government for its short-sightedness, let me remind you that it was not that long ago Los Angeles had the worst air quality in the world. The city began having smog problems in the early 1900s, but it was during the WWII economic boom things really got bad. A severe bout of smog in 1943 – in which visibility was reduced to 3 blocks and residents thought it was an enemy “gas attack” – finally brought air pollution to the public’s attention. The smog problem persisted for decades, until the Clean Air Act and emissions regulations eventually brought it under control. Now, while the air in downtown LA is not going to be the same as Middle-of-Nowheresville, Montana, it’s a vast improvement.

And for the life of me, I cannot understand the current administration’s desire to roll back emissions standards. If you think it’s so great giving business precedence over the environment, come take a look out my window and see what that philosophy has done to this part of the world.

And lest you think it could never again get that bad in America, consider this… After London’s Great Smog of 1952 killed 12,000 people, Britain enacted its own set of air quality and emissions controls to bring smog under control. But just last week, thanks to traffic pollution and a massive increase in the number of households using cheap wood burning stoves, London’s government issued their highest air pollution alert for the first time, calling it a “health crisis.” Air quality readings in London exceeded those in Beijing.

So… yeah. Until somebody invents Mr. Fusion,* we need to protect our existing regulations, support energy innovations, and make smart, energy-saving choices in the home.

Oh, and keep a mask handy. Just in case.

*High five if you get the reference.

My goal is to post an update here every week, but obviously I’m not there yet. This month has been busy.

(And, I’ll be honest… it’s winter, it’s cold, we got ourselves a heat pad for the bed, and I may or may not grab a book and sneak back into its fluffy warm layers for a bit when I return home from walking the kids to school on a brisk 20° morning.)

Specifically, this month we have been occupied with (1) school beginnings and (2) Aaron’s injury.

(1) After winter break, Connery started back at the international school. This time, thankfully, without the tears. He seems to be enjoying it now, especially PE days because he gets to wear the cozy PE uniform pants. The school’s student body is not very large (180?) but the property is huge and they have a lot of rooms for specialty classes, like PE, music, art, library, computer lab. Beginning next quarter, his class will also start Korean language lessons. I’m pretty excited about that.

The only downside to this school is the fact that Connery came in ahead academically. In his previous school, he was already working on 2nd grade math and phonics. We would spend at least 30 minutes doing homework each evening, in addition to special projects like speeches and presentations. By contrast, his 1st grade homework here takes him approximately 5 minutes. I chatted with his (very good) teacher about this, and she said some families here came from no-homework schools so they don’t even do the small amount she gives. Aaron and I debated for a while, and ultimately decided that living in Korea and travelling around Asia will provide Connery with enough extra stimulation and learning that we shouldn’t worry too much about academics. Plus, he’s only in 1st grade; it’s not like a couple easy years are gonna break him. And besides, the Dutch don’t give any homework in primary school and they reportedly have the happiest children in the world. So… balance, I guess.

That being said, after 3 weeks off for winter break, I noticed Connery struggling with some easy math questions:
“Hey, buddy, you know this one. What’s 6 + 3?”
“Um… 5?”
“Try again.”
“…6?”
“…”

Well… maybe we’ll supplement just a little. Aaron has started spending a few minutes with Connery every evening doing flash cards. He wants to start some father-son bonding time building robots, so he’s using that as a carrot. Apparently, they will program it with a tapeworm brain, or something like that. All I heard was: box, wheels, eyes, likes to hide in the shadows. Sounds fun.

The week Connery returned to school, Lena started her new preschool. After another lengthy debate, Aaron and I decided to put her in a local Korean preschool. It was recommended by Connery’s teacher, and there are a couple other English-speaking kids there. It’s a nice (and cute!) facility, and the staff are super nice and helpful in spite of the language barrier. I really like Lena’s teacher. We communicate via broken English and Korean when I pick up the girl, and via text message when more detail is required (thank you Google Translate). I made sure Lena knew some key words in Korean before she started, e.g., hello, goodbye, teacher, water please, thank you, bathroom.

Both schools are within walking distance of the apartment, so we have this little routine of walking Connery to his school first, then walking Lena to the preschool (a bit farther away). Of course, that all sounds sweet and bucolic, but for a family of formerly-desert-dwelling-night-owls, it’s not so much strolling hand-in-hand as it is light jogging while dragging one small child by the arm and yelling at another small child to pay attention and watch for cars before he runs ahead through literally freezing temperatures, eyes and noses dripping, hoping we make it before the school gate is locked (we usually don’t). It’s not really a pretty picture. We don’t like early mornings in the Harris household.

Right now, Lena attends 3 days a week, but I may add another day when the new Korean school year begins in March, because on her days home she is booooooooooored.
9:00 am: “When does Connery come home?”
9:15 am: “Are we going to pick up Connery?”
9:30 am: “When Connery comes home can we go to the bakery?”
9:40 am: “Can we go to the bakery now? I want a chocolate donut.”
10:00 am: “Can we go to the bakery, get a chocolate donut, then go get Connery?”
10:05 am: “Is it time to get Connery yet?”
10:06 am: “How much longer until Connery is done? Can we get him now? And then can we go to the bakery?”
10:07 am: “What are you eating? Is it a chocolate donut? I want a chocolate donut. Is Connery done yet? We should get him the donut with blueberries inside and sugar on the outside. Get him that donut, and I’ll get a chocolate donut.”
10:08 am: “Are you done eating? Can we go now? Let’s get Connery and then go to the bakery. You can get tea, and I’ll get a chocolate donut, because I love chocolate donuts. Chocolate donuts are delicious!”

Sorry, kiddo, but mommy can’t go to the bakery today. Mommy doesn’t have a dishwasher and she has to cook from scratch. But first she has to figure out which of these bottles is baking soda and which is salt, which of these curries won’t give us diarrhea, and what the heck is green pumpkin? It looks like zucchini? And then she has to tackle the strange dust problem in the apartment. And figure out how to organize the trash and recycling such that we don’t get fined for improperly sorting it into the TEN separate bins located in that hut by the parking lot. Then she has to figure out where to buy 2x4s to fix the headboard because a country of apartment dwellers doesn’t have DIY stores like Home Depot around. And at some point, she’d also like to find a nursery, because home doesn’t really feel like home unless there’s a houseplant dying in the corner somewhere.

And now Lena’s school is really making me feel like I need to up my game, food-wise. I have a bad history with processed foods, so I’ve always been a sort of homemade, non-GMO, organic kinda mom. But I tell you what, Americans could stand to learn a few things about eating habits from Asians. So many variety of veggies! Lena’s preschool includes 3 meals: morning snack, lunch, and afternoon snack. They’re served in the classroom, on an adorable little lunch tray that comes home with her for washing. The morning snack is always some kind of porridge: barley porridge, rice porridge, broccoli porridge. Lunch includes some kind of rice, some kind of soup or meat, a couple veggie sides, and either cabbage or radish kimchi. The afternoon snack is either fruit or a yummy carb (like toast or a red bean bun) with milk.

Just look at these lunches… these are for preschoolers!

And snacks… I mean, a whole steamed sweet potato. Are you kidding me?

Unfortunately, Lena recently hit a picky phase, so she’s having none of it. Just the rice. And the afternoon snacks. But I’m still making her try them, unless I know there’s absolutely nothing she would like even if she tried it. (They give us the month’s menu in advance.) So, for example, tomorrow’s lunch will be rice, fish cake soup, a pile of small dead fish, and kimchi. I’ll be sending her with a sandwich.

The other issue that took a surprising amount of time this month was (2) Aaron’s injury.

I mentioned in the last post that Aaron found an MMA class nearby. He’s been practicing it for some time now – over a year, I think? Running is boring, he says, and punching things helps him vent his frustration with bureaucracies. At first, he thought the Arizona class would be all happy, happy, punchy, punchy like your standard kickboxing class, but on the first day, his teacher pretty much showed them how to knock an opponent unconscious. Not a bad skill to have, I told him, just make sure you protect the brain.

Anyway, I was really glad Aaron was able to find a class here. It’s in a taekwondo dojang run by Korean Hercules, and not every night is MMA – some nights are judo and some are cardio. Well, a couple weeks ago, Aaron wound up going on judo night and – even though he was on the wrestling team in high school – it’s been awhile since he’s used that muscle set. And, to be fair to my husband, he hasn’t had a place to work out the past few months because of the move. And, you know, he’s starting to get a little bit older. And Korean Hercules is… well, Korean Hercules. And Korean Hercules decided it would be better for Aaron to wrestle him than the scrawny teenage boys in the class. And Aaron, being a man of pride, refused to let Korean Hercules pin him. But, in the process, Aaron forgot one important rule: when wrestling with Korean Hercules, you let Korean Hercules do whatever Korean Hercules wants to do. Be the reed. Just bend in the wind.

Aaron pulled a muscle in his shoulder. And the pain got worse, and nothing was helping, and sleep was impossible for several days, because while I prefer to weep silently into my pillow when I’m in pain, Aaron turns into angry bear. And it’s kinda hard to sleep next to angry bear when angry bear can’t sleep. Then his fingers went numb and he started having dizzy spells and I said, “GO TO THE DOCTOR!” and eventually he went to the little medical clinic next to our apartment complex. It was a fairly interesting experience, apparently. Doc said it was just a pull, not a tear, but nerves get injured along with the muscles and they take longer to heal. Then he did an ultrasound, gave him a few shots of something next to the injured nerves, put him on a heated bed, and then put some electrified suction cups all over his shoulder. (All this cost $50, by the way.) It kind of helped. I think hot pads and time probably helped more, but I was glad to hear it wasn’t anything serious. Thankfully, Aaron is much better and is even back to the MMA classes, where he and Korean Hercules had a good laugh about it all.