Eating Out: Round 2

Once I moved into my apartment, for my first night in my new home, I figured I’d check out what the local restaurants had to offer, so I walked down to one of the restaurants across the street from my place.

When I got there and I asked for a table for one, the woman looked at me like I was a weirdo. I think it was because I was there on my own. The thing is, eating out is a very social experience in Korean culture. There are certain etiquette rules that one must follow. For example, you’re not allowed to pour your own drink while eating; you must hold out your cup in two hands while somebody else pours it for you. Eating on your own would make such an act rather difficult.

 

The only other reason she may have been looking at me would be that, like the kids, she just got caught off guard by the fact that I clearly was not Korean.

Nonetheless, I ordered what looked like a delicious beef-filled meal, and waited for my delicious dinner. Then things got weird. First, the server brought out 6 or 7 side dishes, including a macaroni salad, a delicious green salad, two flat things that I think had some egg in them, and a few others that didn’t quite do it for me. (I’ve eaten a lot of dishes I can only describe as things. I have no idea what’s in them, but they go down just fine anyway. Including squid, which I unknowingly had at the school cafeteria. It was delicious!)

But the main course was exactly what I needed. There was enough meat on the plate to feed three mouths (as I would learn a few days later when I brought two friends to the same restaurant and we ordered the same meal). Clearly, Uri was hungry.

For those not familiar with Korean BBQ, the process is quite interesting. There’s a hole in the middle of the table, and servers bring out a coal-filled pot. The pot goes in the hole, the flame goes on, and they cover the top of the pot with a grate, thus creating your grill.

 

Yet again, though, the server stepped in to show me the ropes. (I’ve learned since, however, that servers don’t just cook the food for foreigners; I’ve also seen locals sitting with servers hovering over their table and preparing their meal for them.) The guy pretty much cooked my entire meal for me while I just sat there uncomfortably and watched. I felt bad because I couldn’t do anything to help him, and I’m not even allowed to tip him, because Koreans take it as an insult. And the entire time, he was also serving other customers at the same time. He was literally running from table to table at times.

He cooked up the meat and cut it into smaller pieces using scissors. The whole process took 15 minutes or so. The entire time I was just drooling over the food. I wasn't sure if it was okay for me to start eating any of the side dishes while he was still there, so that made me feel even more awkward. 

Once he was gone, though, I chowed down. I cleared the grill of meat and stuffed my face with as much of the sides as possible. (I’m slowly but surely learning how to use those darn chopsticks.)

 

I sat back and let out a huge breath. I was stuffed.

Then came an unexpected second dish: A gigantic pot of soup filled with vegetables and things. The soup also had to be prepared on the burner. I gobbled as much as I could before I started feeling drunk from being so full, and I headed home, ready for my sweet, sweet bed.

Our First Korean Restaurant Meal Flying Solo

On our last day at the fortress, a group of us finally decided to try to do something worthwhile on campus. We eventually decided on checking out the hiking trail at the side of the university. Had I known the trail was there before, I probably would’ve climbed it much sooner. Unfortunately, we decided on the trail far too late in the day, and we only got 0.5 km up the steep 3.0 km trek before turning around with concerns about the sun setting.

It was impressive, however, to see seniors walking up and down the trail at such casual speeds without so much as breaking a sweat. Made me feel like a slob.

We decided to hit up a restaurant down at the foot of the hill for dinner. This would be our first venture into the world of Korean restaurants. We took off our shoes and had a seat on the floor around our low-lying tables.

I used the only Korean I knew at the time to order a beer, having learned it the other night from Amanda and Jon (maegju hanajuseyo). As for food, I had heard great things about a dish called bibimbap (pronounced beebimbap). It was a delicious plate of rice, veggies, and egg. 

 

The hilarious part was that the server had to not only instruct me on how to put my meal together, but after she was not impressed with how I was going about it, she just took over and put everything together for me. (Apparently I didn't know how to pour my bowl of rice into the dish correctly.) The gang had a good laugh, though, and thankfully she also did the same thing for Kat. I certainly felt like a useless tool. And to make matters worse, the woman stood over me, watching me eat, perhaps to gauge my satisfaction with the meal. I approved of the delicious meal, and she walked away, seemingly satisfied. Sadly, that wouldn't be my last awkward eating experience.

 Bibimbap

Our first night eating out on our own!

The Fortress of Solitude

We dubbed the university the Fortress of Solitude because of its location. It's actually closer to Busan than Ulsan. We were in the middle of nowhere. AND we weren't allowed to leave the campus. (Though I don't know how we would, even if we wanted to, because, again, it was so far from everything!)

It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't so damn hot all the time and there were things to do around the campus. The air conditioning would turn off periodically, we weren't allowed to speak to the other students living in residence, the food in the cafeteria was gross, and the most exciting thing to do was a 3 km hike, which sadly I didn't know about until our last day there. Also, the building was so ugly to look at,;it made the University of Toronto Scarborough Campus look like an architectural work of art.

Now when I say the food was gross, it's not because I don't like Korean food. I love about 85% of everything I've eaten in my two weeks here. But Korean cafeteria food, like North American cafeteria food, is not really food.

My fellow prisoners and I quickly developed cabin fever, and so we made numerous trips down the hill to the small town to find civilization. The first time, all I did was drink my first Korean beer. Though the teachers who have been to Korea before had warned us newbies about the crappy Korean beer, it's definitely waaay better than any Molson or Labbatt beer back home. It honestly wasn't that bad.

The next time we left campus, it was to experiment with the much hyped Soju. Soju is, hands down, the most popular and common drink of choice in Korea. Unfortunately for me, it's also 20% alcohol, it’s $1.50 for a bottle, and it's not that bad! I won't say anything else about that night. (Don't worry, mom, I didn't do anything stupid. I said stupid things, but I didn't do anything stupid.) 

 

 The view towards the town.

 

Abbey Road in South Korea. Taken on one of our hikes down towards civilization.

The Flight

The itinerary for my flight was pretty ridiculous. We were to leave Pearson at 8:00 in the morning on Saturday, August 17^th, fly to Vancouver, catch a connecting flight to Seoul-Incheon in Korea, catch another connecting flight to Ulsan, and then take a shuttle bus to the university where we would be staying during orientation.

Once on the plane in Toronto, I was seated next to a couple, the entire time, listening for the words Canadian Connections, Seoul, Korea, or Ulsan to let me know that we were heading the same way. Sure enough, we were. Courtney and Allan were the first two I met on this crazy adventure. And apparently, I learned later that I had accidentally stolen Courtney’s window seat, and she was either too shy or too sweet to ask for her seat at the time.

If you're ever on a really long flight, just watch a crapload of movies. The time will fly by.I will give Air Canada credit for at least getting that right. Passengers have a pretty sweet selection of things to watch on their flights. I watched 42, Argo, a bunch of Canadian shorts, and a bit of a Louis CK stand-up special I hadn't seen before. Before I knew it, we were in Seoul!

The one downside to the crazy marathon flight was that I honestly can't tell you if or when I slept. But for those of you who know me, that's not really that much out of the ordinary for me.

Upon landing in Seoul-Incheon, the first face that greeted us was, oddly enough, Robert Deniro. He was on a giant ad promoting a Korean casino. Not the first impression I was expecting.

The bus pulled into the university at 10 pm on Sunday night, which would've been 9 am on Sunday morning in Toronto. Essentially, from the moment I left my mom's house to the moment I hit the bed, I had been travelling for over 28 hours.

But at least, I was home. Or at least, my temporary home. All I wanted was my bed. Unfortunately, I had to carry all of my luggage up four flights of stairs to get to my bed.

I Hate Pearson Airport

After I parted ways with Doris, I had to endure the torturous process of checking in for my flight. I don't care what the people at Pearson say, airports are where racism is born. I got pulled aside twice for a “random” check. The first time was while I was in line to go through security. Some guy just ninja attacked me from nowhere and pulled me aside so that he could use his little toy to scan me. After he let me go ahead, I wanted to look back and see who else he would “randomly” select, but it quickly became my turn to go through security.

Once again, I was “randomly” selected to step aside. This time, I was asked to step into this giant clear thing that looked either like a teleportation device or a giant blender, but apparently was a scanner of sorts. At this point I was slightly irritated.

Then I saw who else was randomly chosen for scanning: a black guy, an Asian man, and an Asian woman. And it's not like these people were spread out or anything; they were three of the next five people behind me! At this point I had to laugh. I walked up to a woman who was working in security, and I asked her if I could speak with her supervisor. I turned to him and said, “Look, I know I could be making a big deal out of nothing here, in which case I do apologize, but I find it very odd that I've already been scanned twice while in this line, and the only other people who have been scanned are all visible minorities directly behind me.”

The supervisor calmly tried to explain to me that it's actually a computer that randomly selects which travellers to scan. He then invited me to stand there for as long as I wanted in order to see who else the computer chose. About five minutes passed with nobody being selected. There were also no visible minorities passing through in that timespan, though that may have been a coincidence. Finally, a white woman was finally chosen. While I still wasn't completely satisfied, my body was begging me to find a seat, so I collected my things and made my way to my gate, still wondering about this "computer."

I say "computer" because I couldn't help but think that there was some person in a room somewhere looking through a camera and diabolically choosing who was selected. Potentially imaginary racist bastard. Am I racist for having such conspiracy theories?

If anything, I'm still allowed to hate Pearson for charging me $200 for a second luggage and for being 10 pounds over on one of them. $200!

Leaving Home

I know this is severely delayed, but I didn't get Internet until late last week. Also, to be honest, I’m still settling in and exploring the area. So off my case, already! Jeez! Jerk.

All kidding aside, the first two weeks have both had their ups and downs. I guess I should start from the beginning. I left my mom’s house at 5:00 in the morning to head off to Pearson. The entire ride there, I kept wondering when I was going to start feeling the “Oh my God, I’m going to Korea for an entire year! What am I thinking?!” moment. Riding in the truck, I didn’t feel anything but tired. It was just another trip to the airport as far as I was concerned.

Then came the goodbyes.

I gave my mom and Art each a hug and hoped they didn’t worry themselves to death about me. (Particularly my mom.) Doris came inside the airport with me to help me lug the smaller suitcase. I turned to give her a hug and I suddenly couldn’t let go. As soon as I heard her start to cry, the waterworks came on hard. The thought of not seeing Doris’ face for an entire year was unbearable. For a brief moment, I honestly contemplated just bailing on the entire trip and staying home. It would make life so much easier.

But eventually we parted ways. I don’t know about her, but I was still sobbing like an idiot as I walked down the hall towards my gate. I must’ve looked like an idiot, but I didn’t care.

In the end, the moment of self-realization hit me when I was faced with losing that which was most precious to me in the world: my sister. I was able to (eventually) power through the emotions, and I sent her a message on Facebook just before getting on the plane. The message was about pushing and challenging yourself in life and never fearing the unknown. I was ready to face the unknown.

Doris and I post-shopping spree at Dylan's Candy Bar in New York City. Those snazzy hats we're wearing are actually donut-shaped pillows. I wish I'd brought mine to Korea.