Happy Peperro Day

Otherwise known as November 11.  There are folks in the states that complain loudly about holidays being taken over by commercialism, but seriously, its nothing in comparison to Korea's National Holiday of Peperro Day.  This "holiday" is celebrated every year on 11/11 by the giving of these chocolate covered sticks to friends, romantic partners, and teachers.  The claim is that Peperro sticks resemble the number one, so the holiday makes sense.  Seriously- its just an excuse for another company to sell something, and a specific brand at that.

But this year is even MORE special- because not only is it November 11, but the year is 2011 giving advertisers a new gimmick- "once in a thousand years" Millennium Peperro day.

Watch the peperro video here.
According to my Korean co-worker here are some statistics from this years peperro holiday.

500,000,000won= $500,000 for t.v. advertisement for November.
850,000,000won = $850,000 profit for whole year
70,000,000won= $70,000 higher profit than last year

Here are the candies that came our way this year.  Now all of this was not for me alone, but for our studnets and co-teacher as well.  But that's a lot of candy for our class of 9.
 

Another similar holiday in Korea is Chupa chups day on September 9.  This also makes "sense" because the candy resemble the number 9. Bouquet of these suckers are often given to friends and romantic partners.



This year, I didn't receive any of these suckers because we were all on vacation....

The trouble with public transportation

One of the things I LOVE about Korea is its public transportation. Not only is it pretty efficient, but it's also incredibly cheap.  Its a Godsend to any expat trying to save money. Subways, trains, buses are such a blessing.  Not only do I not pay car insurance, gas or the added expenses when my car breaks down, it helps to cut down on emissions which just happen to be choking our world to death.  Public transportation gets me just about anywhere I want to go and as an added bonus, I don't have to worry about parking.  I wish it were something that Texas would invest in.

But, sadly, its not all smiles and butterflies. Public transportation has its pitfalls as well. For example, I can't get EVERYWHERE I want to go. Exploring unknown territory is pretty much impossible.  We have a friend with a car here at English Village, and a couple of times he's taken us around Yongmun in his car.  We saw areas of Yongmun, we would have NEVER seen if it hadn't been for his car.  I can't just jump in a taxi and say, "just drive, just explore for a while" like you can when you own a car.

Public transportation has limits including it's timetables. The subways in Seoul stop running at 12ish on a Saturday night.  Which doesn't sound too late, but that means that I have to be on a subway by 10:30pm if I want to get home at all on Saturday night, which pretty much puts a damper on going out on the town. ( I live 1 hr and a half from Seoul)

For example, this past weekend, I was going out to dinner with a dear friend for her last weekend before she heads off to Thailand. She was late to dinner, so we were paying the bill at 10:00pm. We had also told some friends that we'd meet them in the foreigner area called Itaewon at a pub.  I didn't want to make it an all-nighter.  I wanted to make it a shorter night in fact, but I also wanted to spend time with my friend who I might never see again. And here in lies the rub. If I choose not to go home by 10:30pm, I cannot go home AT ALL until the morning. Jimjilbangs (bathhouses) provide floor mats to sleep on in communal rooms for under $10 a night which is an option, or a hotel for $40. This past weekend however, I really wanted to sleep in my own bed, so instead of getting a hotel or jimjilbang, I decided to wait up for the first subway at 6am.

Which leads me to my next point about the weakness of public transportation; subways and most buses don't have bathrooms.  Picture if you will three sleep-deprived English teachers curled up on a cold bench waiting for the subway. Kyle, Lisa (our friend/co-worker) and myself  are those characters snoring away. I wake up at 5:52 and realize that I should go to the bathroom before the subway comes.  However, I don't think I'll make it before the it comes.  The bell rings, the subway swishes in and I hesitantly step inside.  My bladder is full and there isn't a bathroom on the subway.  If I get off the subway, I'll have to wait another 40 minutes before the next one comes, and all I really want is my bed.

 Luckily, I fell asleep, but there were moments I was sure I wouldn't make it. I had nightmares about peeing on myself on the subway because I was too stubborn to get off.  I clenched my teeth and willed the pee to remain in my bladder. The cost of peeing was 40 more minutes I wouldn't be in my bed and the price was just too high.

As soon as the subway slid into the station, I yanked off my high heel boots (which I no longer could effectively walk in, only hobble like a distorted walking dead creature) and ran to the bathroom. It was glorious.  I had made it.  But the journey had been incredibly painful.  There are aspects of public transportation I'll miss, but there are definitely others I'll be glad to be rid of.

Koreans and swimming

Koreans don't like water.  Well, it's not that they don't like water or it's properties, but they're afraid of it.  Their afraid of emerging their bodies in it and then drowning. It is a peninsula country, a country nearly entirely surrounded by water, and its citizens are petrified of swimming. How a water-locked country does not value swimming is beyond me.

Before I came to Korea, I took my ability to swim for granted.  I don't think I'd even ever been asked if I could swim before I arrived in Korea.  From a young age, Americans are coaxed into the water.  As toddlers, even as babes, parents teach their children the basics of swimming.  I am by no means Michael Phelps, and by no means, an excellent swimmer, but I can do all four main strokes, and I can get myself from here to there without drowning. Whenever I think of my swimming abilities, I'm always reminded of an embarrassing moment in my swim team years.  One where in the midst of a competition, I, who incidentally wore no goggles, mistakenly swam under and across all four lanes only to end up beneath another competitor in the wrong lane, oh so very far from my own lane.  So engrossed was I in the race, I had no idea of this embarrassing mistake I'd made until I came up for air and found a person above me.

There is only a short summer in Korea, few pools, and fewer swimming lessons. Korea is a modest society, one in which being half naked is not smiled upon. Swimming is a large part of American culture.  If you say you can swim in a conversation, people don't generally gush over your amazing talents.    It's pretty much assumed. In Korea, saying you can swim is akin to having super human powers.  No one knows how to swim.  That's an exaggeration; a minority of Koreans can swim.

All swimming pools require swimming caps.  If you don't have a swimming cap, a hat is acceptable. I'd never worn a swimming cap before coming to Korea.  The idea of swimming caps isn't inherently a bad one, but the way in which Koreans wear their caps, completely defeats the purpose of keeping the hair out of the drains of the pools.  Hats do nothing to keep hair from floating its way to clogging the pool, and often caps are only worn on the top of the head allowing the hair to freely languor in the water.  But the rule is never-the-less strictly enforced.

It should also be noted that Koreans do wear swimsuits, but never by itself. It is always accompanied with baggy clothing.  Why, I do not know.  Because it is a modest country, because it is their way, because that is how it has always been done.

Korea's culture is a baffling one, but it's swimming culture really threw me through a loop.  It's moments like these that I'm grateful fro my citizenry in America. I'm grateful I'm an adult who not only knows how to swim but can enjoys a dip in a pool without fear of drowning.

Introducing love motels

When we travel on our own, as opposed to in an organized trip with "meet up" we often have the pleasure, or displeasure of using "love motels." Love motels are primarily a result of young people living with their parents until they are married, but also, the extramarital activities that are common within Korean culture.  Love motels can be very nice, or they can be as close to a roach motel I've ever experienced and hope to experience.  To give you a closer look into "love motels," we've created a little video.

Enjoy!

Vampire deer

The DMZ, (Demilitarized Zone) is the area between North and South Korea that is used as a buffer zone between the two countries.  The Korean war, although not actually actively at war, has never fully ended.  They are in a limbo between war and peace. Fifty-five years ago, for better or worse, the countries came to an agreement, "we agree not to agree, but also not to war."  What is left is a highly unstable North Korea, and the most highly protected border in the entire world, the DMZ.  The DMZ for all intensive purposes cuts the two contesting countries in half on the 38th parallel.   It is about 2.5 miles wide and 160 miles long. 

One unexpected benefit arising from this fifty-five year hiatus of human-less land has created a Godsend for many of the nearly extinct animals of the Korean peninsula.  Because this area of land has been untouched by humans, flora, fauna and wildlife have flourished into a conservationists dream. Fifty animal species, and nearly 200 types of flora and fauna, have found a home in this highly contest strip of land.

One of these animals, the musk deer, is one of the rarities to emerge from the DMZ.  Known for it's vampire like fangs, this animals is often called "a vampire deer."  The canine teeth have extended to form a kind of tusk.  It's almost fantastical and many do not believe it until they see it.  On a field trip not too long ago, I had the privilege of seeing one of these rare vampire deer up close, behind a fence enclosure.  Here are the pictures from that experience.

Misunderstandings

One of the things, we, as foreigners struggle with in this country is communication.  Communication is not just about talking, but relaying meaning and many times, even though plenty of words are said, the meaning gets lost.   English, because we are teaching at an English academy (of sorts) is the language of choice. One reason, communication is an issue here, is that it so rarely happens. This Sunday, Kyle had to work. On Wednesday, he was told he wasn't needed, however, on Friday, the Friday before this Sunday, he was told, it was a possiblity that he was indeed needed. However, there was no confirmation.  Saturday, Kyle had to seek out the scheduler to find out for sure if he needed to come in and if so, what time. Last minute, has a new meaning in this country, or possibly this school. No one seems to talk to anyone, and no one ever seems to know what is actually happening, or who should know what is happening.  The director of the new high school on our campus, told us a story, of trying to find a key to the sports equipment room.  He asked director, after director, maintenance after maintenance to no avail.  Not only did no one seem to have the key, but no one knew who should have it.  Clear communication is severely lacking in this school.  The foreigners often blame it on the language and cultural barrier, but I think it runs deeper than that. Friday, my co-teacher, Cindy came into work dizzy.  She had a difficult time concentrating. Monday, Cindy was still struggling with the dizziness and had even fainted in her apartment the previous evening.  She made a quick trip to a clinic, which result in the doctor telling her she had some type of ear disease which often occurs in old age. (it was a wrong diagnosis she was later to find out)  She told our boss (in Korean, their native language), who then told the education department.  When a teacher was sent from the education department to replace Cindy for the day so that she could rest, we were told, that the education department had understood Cindy to be quitting, and they were therefore already looking for someone not only to replace her, but to take her apartment.  Cindy was horrified.  She didn't want to quit, she wasn't going to be permanently dizzy.  She hadn't in anyway insinuated that she was leaving, and yet, a search for a permanent replacement had already begun.  All of this communication had occured in Korean by Koreans, and yet the communication had been severely butchered. How would this information have been misinterpeted if it been communicated in English, I wonder?


Communication is a complicated beast, and when you add in culture and language deficiencies, the equation gets even murkier, making for exciting times here in the Village.

Another Korean experience

This will most likely be the last post regarding the GRE exam.  What more could I summate regarding this tedious test, you might ask?  Without giving too much away... let's just say, there is more of a tale to recount than simply," I sat down, took a test, felt discouraged, and went home."  In the United States, that rendition above, most likely would have been my prosaic tale, however, I did not take the GRE in the US. No, no no .  Indeed,I took the test in Korea, the land where nothing is what it seems, and nothing, not even what would normally be an insipid event, goes as expected.

It began with the location of the building.  I realize, that my credibility in finding places, even in my own country, where I am actually a literate and educated woman is tenuous at best. However, I'd looked up the location,and had two separate Koreans look up and draw out maps for me.  I even had a Korean translated sentence asking for help to locate my elusive building. I figured that 30 minutes leeway for finding the building within walking distance of the subway would give me plenty of time.  I wasn't late, but on that sticky, humid morning,  waves of sweat poured off my brow as I searched, running in zigzags, stopping a Korean every few blocks to redirect me. Asking Koreans directions however, can be slippery as a freshly caught fish. Koreans are a nation of face-savers.  They won't tell you, most of the time, "I don't know" if that's truly the case.  Rather they will tell you a lie rather than show weakness.  However, this practice is not so great when working within a strict time limit as one could be sent in every which direction.  As I looked around desperately, I was met with a white face who assured me we were on the correct path.
Once seated in my assigned seat, I breathed a sigh of relief, the journey was over, it was time to parry with this demon of a test, armed with my mettle, my newly practiced math skills, and vocabulary.  I never dreamt, however, that the test givers would augment upon the stress already yodeled across my slim shoulders.
The confusion began innocently enough. There were no spare pencils or erasers at this testing center.  At the writing center weeks ago, each tester was provided pencils and scrap paper.  However, at the test site testing well over two hundred anxious would-be-graduate students, there were but three spare number two pencils creating difficulties at the start. I for my part had brought several pencils, however most were mechanical, which, unbeknownst to me, were forbidden.  Luckily I'd brought one normal, and another test taker spared me his extra.
The test instructions were read precipitously by a Korean man who's English was questionable, who also spoke with a distracting speech impediment.  Our ears all strained, we listened intently only catching a few words here and there.
When it was time to start in fact, his words were so unclear, half the room, including myself, did not realize that we'd started.  We'd been asking the supervisors if we were to receive scrap paper for the math section.  We'd been told we were, although I don't believe they actually understood the question, for that much asked for scrap paper never materialized.  A New Zealander's voice boomed from the back of the room, "Have we started?" When the answer turned out to be yes, huffing and puffing undulated around the room.  The GRE is a strictly timed test.  It is not to be taken lightly and every second is valuable.  We'd lost at least a minute in figuring out we'd already started.

When the next section started, it was no different.  The start was once again unclear, and according to the instructions, we were supposed to be allowed at least a minute break between the thirty minute intense sections.  We were not allowed that break.  My back ached from stress. Aggravating the situation to its consummate the already bending frustration bar, was the fact that the two men, while we took our agonizing test -that might well determine our future - choose to walk around asking for our passports and documentations.  They didn't ask for this previous to our test taking, but rather in the midst of taking our timed test.  More obscenities were hurled in their direction, including one rather intense "Your horrible, this is horrible." The frenzied energy of the room blackened. Positive vibes are desirable while taking a test, and I couldn't help but wonder what our test scores might have looked like in a brighter and well organized environment.  Hopefully I'll never know, as I hope never to take the test again.  But Korea proved, once again to take a mundane task, and stir in unwanted spices.  Korea, Oh Korea, how you baffle me!

Dog Soup

In the land of China, to our (Westerners) horror, they eat cats.  Really, so I've been told, they eat anything with four legs, except for a table.  However in Korea, they are more civilized, or so they claim.  "Cat's" they exclaim ostentatiously with their noses touching the sky, "how base!" as they sit and slurping their dog soup carelessly.  Alright, so, I've never actually met a snobby Korean, but go along with it, for the story's sake.  Dogs in this country are pitiful.  They're pitifully unappreciated, except of course for their National treasure, the JINDO dog, but that's a whole other story.  Dogs are generally kept on leashes, at least in the country measuring no longer than two yards at most.  Canines, at least the domesticated ones, fill me with joy, except for when I see them in Korea, even the pets. My heart cries out to their caged and unfulfilled lives. All of this to say, Koreans eat dog, rather than uncivilized China who eats cat, in the form of dog soup, something I'd never seen or had desired to try, that is to say, until the other night.

This soup is much meatier than the one I saw.  In fact, I saw no meat at all.

The night began innocently enough. Kyle was teaching a business English course to adult students, engineers at Samsung.  The school had recruited extra teachers for the week program. These teachers, wanted to experience Yongmun, and what it had to offer, so we took them to our little samgipsal (bbq pork belly) restaurant down the hill located on the river.  We had a lovely time eating, and drinking Makali- Korean rice wine, a beverage that the government is aggressively advertising as "healthy."  I plan to look in on this topic further.  On our way out of the restaurant, while the bill was being settled, I began to look around at our little countryside restaurant.  A dried two foot fish hung above the door frame, with a 10,000 won (about $10) bill rolled into its mouth.  We discovered it was to ward off bad luck, something having to do with karma and balancing the ying and yang.  However, before we tramped off, I noticed one last thing; two red-faced men eating a milky white soup.  It looked and smelled delicious.  It reminded me of my grandmother's chicken noodle soup, except with some extra green leafs floating around and no noodles.  I'd never seen this restaurant serve this soup before.  We had our Korean friend ask what this mouthwatering soup was.  The adjuma (old lady) waitress cleaning towards the back of the small restaurant had evidently been watching this scene with increasing interest, possibly because foreigners are intriguing to stare at, but probably because she was waiting for some type of reaction.  When we were told what we were eyeing, she threw her head back cackling with pure joy at our shock, and absolutely no qualms with laughing directly and loudly at us. "Dog soup" the soju happy Korean man had reported.  My mouth tumbled from my jaw and my screech resembled the noise I often make in horror films.  I'm sure I gasped as my mother does, the gasp I often lovingly chide her for.  I covered my mouth and loked away. I had coveted dog soup.  I don't know that I could ever look Aurora and Isis (our dogs back at home) in the eyes again. Of course they would never make the soup from Maltese, there is only one kind of dog Koreans eat, but they are of the same nation of animals.  I walked away ashamed, and a little shaken.  What had I done?  What kind of dog loving human was I? At the very least, the Korean woman added an extra year onto her life from that wholesome, gut shaking laugh.  The moral of the story here is, "Never judge a book by its cover, or a soup by it's smell, you might just eat man's best friend!"

Italian food Korean style

 

In Korea, it can be expected, that an outing to a restaurant, will never, and I repeat NEVER, be like a meal at home, in America.  At the tail end of my birthday weekend, we went to dinner at an Italian restaurant.  I'm always hesitant to go to an Italian restaurant in Korea, because they always Koreanize it and never for the better.  For one thing, instead of bread sticks before the meal, they provide something pickled.  Because its an Italian restaurant they don't give you kimchi which they would prefer, but as a substitute, they provide sweet pickles, because as we all know, that's very Italian.  Then, most of the time, their spaghetti dishes are sweet, sickly sweet.  This restaurant was better than most for which I was immensely grateful, although they did have some quirks.  The pizza, instead of being made on pizza dough was made on many layers of pastry sheets, and with a side of honey to dip the crust in.  Also, when they brought the salad which was meant for Mark only,  they set it out for the whole table to share.  Because it seemed that it was meant for the table, we assumed it was complimentary.  It turns out, our assumption was incorrect. And when Dee ordered her coke, they brought a tiny can and six straws in case we all wanted to share.  Fun times in Korea!

sweet pickles

If we all had shared this coke, I think we would have had one sip a piece.

the pizza with the honey

White day

March 14th is white day here in both Korea and Japan.  What is white day? It's a further continuation of Valentines day.  You see, Korea doesn't think Valentines goes far enough.  One day to celebrate "LOVE" is insufficient.  Therefore, it is necessary to have not one extra day, but two extra days; white day and black day.  In Korea, Valentines day isn't exactly the same as inside the USA.  In the US, a typical couple might buy chocolates, flowers, expensive presents and go out on a date.  In Korea, girls are supposed to give their boyfriends chocolates on Valentines, and it is common to rent (for only a few hours) a love motel.  We have discussed love motels in past posts.  They affectionately were bestowed with this name for their almost sole purpose of "encouraging love" that might not otherwise happen as almost all unmarried individuals live with their parents until their marriage. Dates also occur, but it's not like in the US where every romantic restaurant is laden with doe eyed love birds.  March 14th, white day,  is essentially the other half of Valentines.  It's the day when the boyfriend gives his girlfriend a present- typically just candy- although that trend is changing.  Black day on the other hand is April 14- singles day. This could be considered a national revenge of the unromantized population.  Single friends celebrate their singledom and freedom by going out to dinner to partake in a black sauce and noodle dish.  Some might claim that it is to celebrate the love of friends, but in reality, no one in Korea ever wants to be single, at least the ladies.
Kyle and I meant to do something for Valentines day, but we didn't get around to it this year. So for white day, we made a lentil meatloaf- I will include a recipe at the bottom, and had a double date with another couple who lives in our building.  It was lovely.  Going out on dates takes a LOT of effort in a foreign country so it's nice to have other couples around to double date with.

Here is the recipe:

We made some changes however-
two eggs instead of one
We added real garlic, mushrooms, and kidney beans
only 1/3 cup oats as ours weren't quick cooking.
And Viola- delicious meal- even the carnivores agreed!

Really Good Vegetarian Meatloaf (Really!)

By SaraFish on July 11, 2002

Photo by Veggie Girl Kacey

260 Reviews

• 
• Prep Time: 10 mins
• Total Time: 1 1/2 hrs
• Servings: 4-6

About This Recipe

"High in fiber and protein, low in fat, easy and really yummy! I've always think meatloaf looks and smells so delicious and savory so, as a vegetarian, I decided to make a no-meat version! This is basically our favorite meatloaf recipe but with cooked mashed lentils instead of ground meat. The result is a very tasty dinner!"

Ingredients

• 2 cups water
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup lentils
• 1 small onions, diced
• 1 cup quick-cooking oats
• 3/4 cup grated cheese ( cheddar, swiss, jack or american)
• 1 eggs, beaten
• 4 1/2 ounces spaghetti sauce ( or 4.5 ounces tomato sauce)
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon dried basil
• 1 tablespoon dried parsley
• 1/2 teaspoon seasoning salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Directions

1. Add salt to water and boil in a saucepan.
2. Add lentils and simmer covered 25-30 minutes, until lentils are soft and most of water is evaporated.
3. Remove from fire.
4. Drain and partially mash lentils.
5. Scrape into mixing bowl and allow to cool slightly.
6. Stir in onion, oats and cheese until mixed.
7. Add egg, tomato sauce, garlic, basil, parsley, seasoning salt and pepper.
8. Mix well.

Page 2 of 2Really Good Vegetarian Meatloaf (Really!) (cont.)

Directions (cont.)

9. Spoon into loaf pan that has been generously sprayed with Pam (non-stick cooking spray) or well-greased.
10. Smooth top with back of spoon.
11. Bake at 350 degrees for 30- 45 minutes until top of loaf is dry, firm and golden brown.
12. Cool in pan on rack for about 10 minutes.
13. Run a sharp knife around edges of pan then turn out loaf onto serving platter.

Funny signs in Korea

 Korea is full of interesting uses of English and differences in culture.  Sometimes those differences make life difficult, sometimes though, they make us laugh.  Here are some signs that made us laugh.  In case you missed some of the others from the past, click here.

I know I want my bank to be full of B.S.!!

This was found as part of the decoration in the preschool.  Look closely.  Yea... not appropriate for any school aged kid.

Remember when we were talking about squatters instead of toilets?  Well this sign shows you how to use one accurately.

I can't take credit for this one.  My friend Amy took this picture, but it is priceless.

Who knows what this is trying to say... sometimes.. I go park...  People, ask an English speaker before you name you pay LOTS of money for signs above your restaurant.

North Koreans are people too

Sometimes when we (as in "the people") speak of North Korea, all we can recall is the crazy haired, attention grabbing, ugly little man who likes nothing more but to poke his fingers into the rib cage of the rest of the world.  But North Korea is a country like any others, comprised of people and families.  Sixty years ago when the Korean War began, families were separated. Mothers from daughters, sons from fathers, brothers from sisters were split by a demilitarized zone for an indefinite amount of time.  We forget about these people, these families who have the same needs and concerns as we do when we remember this excessively long stale-mate. We forget that those families are kept from seeing each other by force.   I recently read an article on the blog ASK A KOREAN about a reuniting of families from the North and South.  The oldest being a 96 year old woman afraid she would never see her daughter again.

Here are a few excerpts from his blog post  and another article .  You can also choose to read his entire article here.  Another article about the meeting can be found here.  It  is less emotional.

As of 2010, there were 120,000 registered South Koreans with separated families. 40,000 of them already passed away, and every year 3,000 more are passing away. Meetings between the separated families, arranged by the Red Cross Societies of both North and South Korea, happened for the first time in 1985, more than 30 years after the conclusion of Korean War. Since 2000, there have been a relatively regular annual meeting.

More than 430 South Koreans crossed into North Korea today and met relatives for the first time since they were separated by the Korean War more than half a century ago.

The divided family members – mostly aged in their 80s – are meeting for three days in North Korea’s Diamond Mountain resort, South Korea’s Unification Ministry said.

Read more: http://www.breakingnews.ie/world/south-koreans-meet-relatives-in-north-479767.html#ixzz14fRmnkno

Mr. Lee Jong-Ryeol (90) of North Korea, who was a former soldier for the Republic of Korea military, and his son Mr. Lee Min-Gwan (61), shed the tears they had been holding back. The younger Lee buried his face on his wheelchair-bound father's lap, crying "Father, father, my father."

Even for the meeting place turned into a sea of tears, the time did not stop. When the PA announced "10 minutes remaining for the farewell meeting," the few scattered laughs ceased completely. Finishing up the hour-long meeting, the South Korean families were at a loss as the bus carrying the North Korean families were leaving the meeting place. The South Korean families that met Ms. Woo Jeong-Hye from North Korea lifted up the 96-year-old mother so that the mother and daughter may hold hands for the last time through the window of the bus. And so ended the cruel meeting that did not allow the separated families to "really eat and sleep next to each other, only meeting for a moment just to separate again," as Mr. Lee Myeong-Guk of North Korea put it.

When Korean babies have their 1st birthday...

Dad, mom and baby all dressed in Korean traditional clothing.

It wasn't that long ago, when Korea's economy was in drastic dire. They were a small country torn apart by the Japanese colonists and a civil war that never truly ended. It is hard to imagine this technologically advanced, highly ranked economic power desperate and in the midst of famine. Korea sprinted its way to the forefront of the world and has been battling it's way past superpowers. It is ranked 15th in the world economies. For this reason, Korea has been struggling with the delicate obligation of weaving it's past and present into a modern afghan with reflections of the past that don't seem too antiquated, while staying up with the times and/or ahead of the curve but without losing their heritage. It's been a difficult task, the knitting of a complicated and at times a bizarre project that doesn't have a clear pattern. The materials change, the colors don't always flow and sometimes the tug-a-war just tears it up all together. Occasionally it is thrown in the trash, but its eventually picked back up again and attempted again. It doesn't always seem to work out or mesh the way some think it should, but it is what makes Korea, Korea.

One of these traditions that is still celebrated today, which in today's modern Korea seems outdated and yet an important part of Korean heritage is the celebration of both the 100th day of a baby's birth and it's one year birthday celebration. In the past infant mortality rate was steep. So when a baby hit the 100th day of life, it's chances of survival were greatly increased demanding a need for a celebration. A party would ensue, that is if the infant wasn't sick, in which case no one would mention the 100th day for fear of relaying bad luck onto the child. Even though the infant mortality rate in Korea has decreased significantly thanks to advanced health care, mothers and families aren't in actuality concerned for each child's survival but still carry on the tradition of celebrating 100 days of life. I'm not sure if 100 has a significant meaning in Korea, because they also celebrate 100 days of dating for new couples.

Recently, Kyle, the other teachers of our school, and I were all invited to a birthday party. A 1st year birthday party, which is also a momentous marker in a person's life. The 100th day celebration is a small scale event with family and close friends, while the 1st year birthday party is an extraveganza on a scale similiar to a wedding. I'm not joking. There were at least 150 people at this child's birthday party with a delectable buffet fit for a Caesar and his armies. I asked my Korean friends, who were swooning at the thought of the day when they could also have their very own 1st birthday party for the little crumpet that they one day too would bring into the world, if this was a normal scale or if this was over the top. I was assured that this was quite normal.

"How much would something like this cost?" I asked in disbelief. I wondered how any parent could afford to have more than one child.
"It costs a lot of money, but it is payed for basically by the guests." one Korean teachers said.
Another chimed in, "Sometimes they even make money from these events. I know some who have not only not had to pay for anything, but went home with a profit."

Each person who attends a wedding or a 1st birthday party is expected to give a gift like we do in the states, except the gifts are normally not material goods, but in the form of cash. Beacoups of cash. Basically you are just paying for the meal and silly entertainment. Many of the Koreans gave the equivalent to $50 per person and that is average.

The set up was elaborate. They had photos probably of everyday of this child's life. I thought the picture tree was very cute. There was even a video shown at the end of the evening of the baby being dressed up for a full days shooting session. She was a star in the making.

Stuffing our faces. Soju was at every turn. It isn't a Korean party if there isn't soju.

All of the teachers who attended the party.

Isn't the cake beautiful. I don't think I ever tasted it. I am not sure in fact it was real.

There was of course a DJ and entertainment. Volunteers (our teachers) even the president were told to stand, and dance or bob their head. Each person wore a pedometer to record how much dancing and/or bobbing was done. The president stood their awkwardly before sitting down refusing to be silly while everyone else competed for the prize.

No rice cake on this plate. But there are mashed potatoes which I mistakenly though was a dessert. It's the one with chocolate syrup and sprinkles. Why would I think that was a dessert. How silly of me.

I don't have a picture of this, but one of the important aspects of a birthday party is the picking of the child's future career. A tray is presented to the baby and they are given a choice of objects. Depending on what they pick will determines what they become as adults. So the objects she was given were a microphone, money, pencil, string, book etc. They all have meaning; the mic-entertainer, pencil-scholar, string- long life, money- rich, book- writer etc. She choose two items. She choose money and the pencil which means she will be rich and a scholar. Unlikely, I would think.

Needless to say the event was a learning experience. We had fun, and went home with full tummies. One of my favorite aspects of living abroad is learning about other countries cultures. Its enlightening and makes one reflect on our own country and traditions.