Malaysia

beaches
sea turtles
sharks
curry
towers
birds
caves
Chinatowns
Little Indias
fruit shakes
mangosteens +

awesome.

Next up: Singapore.

Overload, pt. 2

Cambodia. Kampuchea. Land of the Khmer.

Best surprise to date? The food. Coconutty. Curries. Ridiculously fresh fish. It's quite similar to Thai food, and just as delicious.

Most sobering moment? S-21, Tuol Sleng. The special prison (formerly a high school) where Pol Pot's police would interrogate (torture) prisoners before bringing them out to the killing fields to kill and bury. I've visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC, and while that brought about many of the same sentiments and questions, there's something particularly powerful when you're standing in the places where the atrocities were committed, and not all that long ago.

It seems that every place I go these days raises more question than it answers, which is probably a good thing. One of the things the genocide museum at Tuol Sleng emphasized is that the techniques used by Pol Pot's regime were not all that different from those used by Stalin's or Hitler's- or, I think it's safe to say, by the North Koreans today. when you create a culture of fear and mistrust, people tend to comply to protect themselves or their loved ones. I'm interested in learning more about the specifics of Cambodia's civil war, but I'm also curious to learn more about the patterns in general. Any reading recommendations would be appreciated.

Best place in Cambodia to get a sunburn? Rabbit Island, which is either in the South China Sea or the Gulf of Thailand- our map is a bit sketchy on this point. At any rate, Rabbit Island is a 20 minute boat ride from the town of Kep, which itself is on the coast, about 3 hours by bus from Phnom Penh. 3 hours, of course, assuming your bus doesn't break down on the way there, in which case your 3 hour bus ride will become an 8 hour bus ride. Just a little something to keep in mind. I suppose it's equally possible for your bus to break down on the ride back, but this is not something that's happened in my (admittedly limited) experience, so I'll caution you instead about the ride down.

Rabbit Island itself, though, is a beautiful little island with some nice beaches, warm water, and even a little bit of snorkelling. There are a couple of small restaurants on the sand, where the proprietors will be more than happy to stuff you with fresh shrimp and fish (eyes still on!).

Most jaw-droppingly, eye-openingly awesome place to visit? Angkor Wat, Siem Reap. The remains of old temples and palaces, Angkor Wat was the foundation of the Khmer Empire, which had a million people when London had roughly 50,000 (thanks, Lonely Planet!). If you've seen Tomb Raider, you've seen some of Angkor Wat. Moss-covered buildings, stunning rock carvings, giant tree roots wrapping themselves around 1000 year old statuery...my words cannot do it justice.

We have one more day in Siem Reap, during which we intend to explore the town itself, then onto Bangkok.

L'aventure continue...

Historic First

Usually, I choose to provide my thoughts purely in written form, but for today's post something a little more...visual seemed appropriate.

I went out with some coworkers last night and had 산낙지 (san-nak-ji), also known as "live octopus." This is technically something of a misnomer, because the octopus isn't actually alive, only very recently dead. Very recently.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I took a quick peek at the octopus tank:

Take note of the one on the far right. You'll be seeing more of it (him? her?) shortly.

And, well, let's let the video do the talking...

The obvious question, of course, is: how did it taste? And the answer, perhaps surprisingly, is: unmemorable. Apart from the shock factor of eating food which occasionally grabs onto the inside of your cheeks, most of the flavour from eating 산낙지 comes from whatever sauce it's dipped in. It's a strange experience, of course. Most of the food I'm used to eating bears little or no resemblance to its live state, so this is a profound difference. The cruelty question also comes into play, but I'm not really convinced that it's any worse to eat the freshly-amputated limbs of an octopus than to eat a McDonald's cheeseburger. This may, then, be an argument for vegetarianism, or it may simply be an argument to realize that life itself is a cruel and oft-dangerous proposition, and participants do so at their own risk.
Discuss.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 9

Our questions today come from Carrie in Québec City, who wonders:
a) If Koreans have something similar to a boite à chansons,
b) What feminism looks like in Korea, and
c) If "ethnic" food in Korea is American style food.

The Waeguk Responds:

Those are all good questions, Carrie, and each is worth answering, so let's start from the top.

a) For those readers who haven't spent much time in French Canada, a popular place to spend an evening is a boite à chansons. It's usually just a small pub or bar with live music. It's often just a solo guitarist who plays a selection of traditional French Canadian tunes and contemporary (And classic) francophone and anglophone hits. The crowd is often encouraged to sing along (especially during the chorus), and frequently requests songs as well.

While there are venues here which feature live music, there isn't anything that quite resembles the above, even if one were to substitute the word "Korean" for "French Canadian." However, Koreans do have their own form of musical entertainment: the 노래방! Pronounced "norae bang," this translates literally into "song room," and is the Korean form of karaoke. Although reasonably popular in Canada, Canadian karaoke bears little resemblance to its Korean cousin. Typically in North America, karaoke is held in generic bars, perhaps once a week, every second Sunday, or somesuch. Western karaoke involves singing to the entire bar: friends, strangers, and whoever else happens to be within earshot. By contrast, the noraebang is an establishment devoted exclusively to karaoke, and is broken into small rooms, each of which is equipped with its own karaoke machine and sound system, and seats roughly 5-15 people. In other words, one sings exclusively to and with one's drinking mates, which can make for a considerably less daunting experience for those who are not musically inclined. Even your humble waeguk correspond has taken the microphone on occasion to belt out some Human League or Offspring, despite his low self-esteem.

Karaoke is almost infinitely more popular here than in Canada. I would estimate there are at least half a dozen noraebangs within a 10 minute walk from my apartment, and my neighbourhood is by no means unusual in this respect.


b) My initial reaction to the question of feminism in Korea was that it's kind of like Canada's 1950, 1975, and 2008 all rolled into one. This isn't a question I feel overly qualified to answer, but since I'm the only waeguk many of my readers know, I'll do my best to at least give you an idea of the status of women here, if not the state of feminism per se.

Domestic violence is quite common here, sadly. On more than one occasion I've been at a bar and seen a man either hit or threaten to hit his wife. It happens fairly frequently, and also quite openly. I was talking about it one day with a Korean friend, who acknowledged that it's a big issue. She also said that her first reaction when she witnesses it, and that of many of her female friends, is to wonder, "what did the woman do [to deserve being hit]?"

I want to be careful not to overstate the case - I'm by no means suggesting that all Korean men beat their wives. However, I think there is an implicit acceptance, especially among the older people, that has fortunately fallen by the wayside in Canada.

Based only on my own anecdotal evidence, I can tell you that my male and female students seem equally interested in gaining a university and education and becoming doctors and lawyers- the prestige professions. From what I have seen, women are generally encouraged to go into post-secondary education, but are just as encouraged to quit their jobs once they marry or have children.

The U.S. Department of State notes that Korean

"law forbids discrimination on the basis of gender, religion, disability, age, social status, regional origin, national origin, ethnic origin, physical condition or appearance, marital status, pregnancy and child delivery, family status, race, skin color, thought or political opinion, record of any crime for which punishment has been fulfilled, or sexual orientation or medical history, and the government generally respected these provisions. However, traditional attitudes limited opportunities for women, persons with disabilities, and ethnic minorities. While courts have jurisdiction to decide discrimination claims, many of these cases were instead handled by the National Human Rights Commission."

Furthermore, there existed until 2005 a law which made women "legally subordinate to the male household head." 2005! Studies indicate that a woman typically earns 64% of what a man does in a comparable job, and polls show that "79% of women have experienced some form of discrimination in the workplace."

I think one needs to keep in mind that Korea is a country which has seen enormous change in a very short period. The economic progress has been remarkable, and the country once known as the Hermit Kingdom is opening itself up more and more to the rest of the world. Homosexuality, once completely unthinkable, is now "merely" taboo, and women have gained and are gaining more rights and legal protections with relative frequency over the past decade. I suspect there are more to come.

c) Western food (pasta, pizza, hamburgers, etc.) is prevalent in the large cities- as I may have mentioned in a previous post, there are far more Pizza Huts and Baskin-Robbinses in Busan than in Toronto. Because of this, I would hesitate to classify it as "ethnic food." Although my students don't eat burgers or spaghetti at home, they are very familiar with them. By contrast, the average Canadian ten year-old is unlikely to be able to identify bibimbap or kimbap, two of the most popular Korean dishes. Even beyond the fast food places, American chains such as TGI Friday's and Bennigan's are common here, and have arguably found a niche within Korean culture, rather than simply existing as outlets for when consumers want to eat "exotic" food. Japanese food is quite popular as well. On the other hand, there are a handful of restaurants of other countries or regions. In Busan (a city of over four million people), I know of two Thai restaurants, three Indian restaurants, a couple of Turkish restaurants, and that's about it. I haven't had tzatziki in almost a year now. This saddens me.

Ask A Waeguk - addendum

Those of you who happened to read the comments section of the preceding post will have noticed reference to monkeys and banana flavoured cheetos. Allow me to elaborate.

Relatively soon after my arrival in Korea, I was walking home one night after an evening out with friends. Finding myself somewhat peckish, I stopped at the first convenience store along the way. There, my eye was caught by a bag of what appeared to be Cheetos- at least, that's what the photo on the bag led me to believe. There was also a cute drawing of monkey, but I didn't put too much thought into its significance at that time. It was only later when I happened to open the bag that I realized the "Cheetos" were not cheese-flavoured. Nor, as it happens, were they monkey-flavoured. Or if they were, I am somewhat surprised to learn that monkeys taste suspiciously like artificial banana flavour. Not having sought out this bag since, however, I am unable to say whether a closer attention to the English writing on the package would have provided me with more clues. I feel reasonably confident in saying that nowhere in English was it written, BANANA-Os! Banana-flavoured Cheetos-shaped snack food, but it in Korean it may well have.

Real bananas? Good. Fake banana-flavoured Cheetos? Not so much.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 7

The first question of the year comes from Haleigh in Halifax, who wonders:

"In South Korea, does most product packaging have some English on it, or have you often had to guess at the contents based on the picture on the box? If it's the latter case, have you had any amusing misunderstandings?"

The Waeguk responds:

Almost all packaging does in fact have some English on it, but whether this is to assist any wayward anglophones or to promote some abstract idea of sophistication, I have yet to decide. There's a huge emphasis on learning English, though, so it may be that it's a way of encouraging the people to acclimatize themselves to the roman alphabet. This is all idle speculation, of course, but what it means in practice, then, is that most food products have some English on them. Even things like the generic store-brand rameon noodles have the Korean "라면" (rameon) followed by "noodles."

One of the things which has amused me rather consistently since becoming quasi-literate in Korean is that English words are often transliterated rather than translated. As an example, I present the title of a recent Western movie:

P.S. 아이 러브유

To most of you, of course, the above title is illegible, so let's break it down phonetically.

아 - a
이 -ee
러 -luh
브 -buh
유 -yu

Said quickly enough, a ee luhbuh yu becomes I love you. Thus, we know the movie is P.S. I love you. To see a movie poster, please click here.

What's interesting, though, is that if you were to look up these words in a Korean-English dictionary, you would find something completely different. It should come as no shock to anyone, really, that the Korean for "I love you" is not the same as the English. Furthermore, on movie posters the title is often(though not always) written in English as well as in Korean. So a Korean whose English is good enough that she will know what I love you means will in all likelihood be able to read the title in English, but a Korean who is unable to read the Roman alphabet is not likely to be any more enlightened after reading the Korean transliteration.

Another example? Oh, all right.

아메리칸 갱스터

Again, let's break it down.

아-a
메 -meh
리 -ri
칸 -kan
갱 -gang
스 -suh
터 -tuh

Reassembled, we find ourselves with: a meh ri kan gang suh tuh. Say it quickly, and you're saying American Gangster (movie poster: here). Again, the words for American and gangster are quite different, but the titles are transliterated rather than translated. One of my favourite French novels is Le petit prince, but in English it becomes The Little Prince, not Luh Putty Prance.

This transliteration is not restricted to movie titles; incidentally. Even Mountain Dew is turned into ma-aoun-tin du, rather than some Koreanized "Hill Rain beverage" or somesuch.

On a not entirely unrelated note, my Korean lessons proceed with slow but steady progress. They proved their worth last week when I left my cellphone in a cab. As I discovered my loss shortly after exiting the vehicle, I was able to call my phone almost immediately. The cabdriver answered, and in Korean I was able to impose upon him to return to my apartment so that I might procure my telephonic device. It should be noted that what I actually said in Korean was not in the vicinity of eloquence, nor, indeed, in the same area code, yet the fact remains: my cellphone sits on the desk in front of me as I type. A triumph indeed.

Interesting...

In attempting to update this blog from Shanghai, I seem to have run afoul of China's notorious internet censorship restrictions. At any rate, I am unable to access blogger in the usual manner. However, I have vague memories of setting up "blog by email" at some point in the past. So if you're reading this, it's because

a) Not only did I set up the blog by email (bbe) feature, I also
b) remembered the email address by which I can can use it.

If you're not reading this, of course, the point is moot, but since hope is the foundation upon which all creation must be built, I will proceed under the assumption that the blogging is proceeding as planned.

So...Shanghai.

First impressions? London mixed with Gotham City by way of Metropolis. The principal tourist area, known as the Bund, is filled with imposing Neo-Classical structures which date back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries. This gives the city (or parts thereof, I should say) a decidedly Western feel, most reminiscent to me of London. Across the river from the Bund, however, is the Pudong area, the exaggeratedly modern skyscraper district which seems like something out of a cheerful optimistic and future-looking comic (Metropolis). Yesterday, though, was dark and damp and foggy; the buildings loomed through the clouds as though screaming for Commissioner Gordon to shine the Bat Signal on them.

Today? Still cloudy, but no rain as of yet, fortunately. I've returned to the hostel for a mid-afternoon rest after much walking ce matin. The Shanghai Museum was interesting enough in its way, and comforting in the familiar museum-smell that seems to permeate all such institutions. I also took the time to meander through various roads and sidestreets, stopping only to sample an occasional steamed dumpling- which are, I am pleased to say, as exquisitely delicious as I had been led to believe. The Yuyuan Gardens, though not at their most floral in late December, were pleasing in their verdant, labyrinthine way, and I also made acquaintance with a most loquacious young man named Jimmy, who spewed forth a semi-prepared speech in such a manner as to turn Aaron Sorkin green with envy.

"Hello my friend where are you from? Oh, Canada! Canada is a very nice country. It rhymes with banana. I like to meet new and interesting foreigners and make conversation with them. You are very interesting looking with your blue eyes and many mustaches and big nose. You look very funny, don't you think? Anyway I am sixteen years old and I like to learn English but I cannot live at home anymore because my father beats me and my mother very much so I have had to leave home but under Chinese law children are not allowed to work so I have no means of supporting myself and I ask you my friend for some small money to help me feed myself-"

I gave him 5 yuan (roughly $0.60) and wondered, as I always do in these circumstances, whether I should have given more or nothing at all...

But now the city beckons once more. If nothing else, there are postcards to be written and street vendors' wares to be sampled.

Confession

It's taken me a long time to get to a place where I feel comfortable admitting this, but I think I've been in denial long enough.

I don't like Korean food. There, I said it.

It's not to say that I don't like any Korean food, or that I am repulsed by it. Far from it. There are several dishes that are quite tasty, and I can generally find something edible at any of the restaurants near my apartment.

However, I remember going to a Korean supermarket in Toronto last Spring, and wandering the aisles with excitement and anticipation.

What does this package say?
What's in this box?
What are these ingredients for?
When I come back to Canada, I'll be able to cook all these great new dishes!

Sadly, no. This, in fact, is one of my greatest disappointments in Korea. I like food. A lot. I've eaten well on my travels in Mexico (taquitos from the street vendors), in Turkey (eggplant! and kebabs!), in Greece (eggplant again! and gyros dripping with tzatziki, and lamb stew), and Spain (where to begin? the tapas and the ham and the sangria and Portugal (codfish done six different ways, roast chicken, pasteis de belem). My one night in Japan, I had a delicous beefy brothy dish I won't even try to name. I'm already salivating at the thought of the cooking class I'll be taking in Thailand some six months from now. I like food.

Korean food, though...features seaweed. Prominently. And fish. But not fish in the way that I've come to like it. At a wedding buffet last weekend, breaded, fried, salmon fins were one of the options, and a popular selection at that.

I can eat the dried squid at the bar, and I do, but to me it tastes rubbery, vaguely fishy, and not all that appealing. The fish cakes that turn up in so many dishes here are chewy and flavourless. Much hot sauce is needed to make them palatable.

I'm disappointed, but it would be ridiculous for me to expect a country's cuisine to adapt itself to my palate. So I'm disappointed in me. I like the Korean bbq (dak galbi...mmm), and I like the dumplings, and some of the pastries. I like the Mongolian hot pot (which is also a Korean thing, name notwithstanding), but I haven't fallen in love with the everyday meals and the type of food my students eat on a regular basis. This annoys me.

But I've got another six months to get it right. Wish me luck.

Sundayosity

This Friday is the 6th mensiversary of my arrival in South Korea. Several things are happening or have already happened to mark the occasion:

-The mayor of Busan, Hur Nam-Sik, has declared next weekend to be a municipal holiday. There is to be a kimchi-tape parade downtown, and work will commence on a statue, 75m tall, in my likeness, to be placed on the summit of the highest mountain in the city.


-Kim Jong-Il is expected to resign as leader of North Korea and rededicate himself to his first love, yahtzee.

-I bought a winter jacket. In truth, this wasn't done specifically to commemorate my time here, but it seemed like a good idea, what with the encroachment of winter and so forth. The jacket itself is not entirely unattractive, should keep me reasonably warm, and was less than the price of a meal at a local Thai restaurant, assuming a glass of wine was consumed along with the food in said meal. So I'm satisfied with my purchase overall. What really, truly, delighted me about the jacket, though, is the descriptive blurb on the tag, reproduced here for your reading pleasure:

Leader's
The everything world mountain for acid is tracking, hiking, Seunosyuing, and until walking that is adventure and expression of travel in line of exploration! Offer everything. Experience culture that is different from nature and walk the earth. Express your happiness in step that step forward step by step. Open mind that is humble and respect. Finally, find your self, and supplement energy, and meet new place, the new world and new people and give meaning in your life at the street end.

I've been trying to stay away from posting about "konglish," as the Korean-English mishmash is known, for the simple reason that it's far too facile a topic to write about. It's a "what's the deal with airplane food" level of easy comedy, but the paragraph just appealed to me, and so I thought I'd share. Seunosyuing, incidentally, is snowshoeing, or so I would guess.

Last week's American Thanksgiving festivities were excellent. We bought a turkey dinner from The Seamen's Club, a USS centre which caters primarily to American military personnel and sailors, and it was delicious. My intended cheesecake was to be lime with a ginger snap crust, but due to supermarket restrictions it turned into a lemon cheesecake with a coconut cookie crust; also excellent, but my heart still prefers the lime.

Now that it's December, my thoughts have really started to trifurcate. I've been reflecting on the year gone by: North Bay, Kenya, Korea, and so on, thinking about my options for the second half of '08, while simultaneously wanting to stay grounded in the next 6 months. It's quite the juggling act, let me tell you. On the other hand, it's rare that I'm able to use "trifurcate," so this mollifies me somewhat.

More later today. Maybe.

Jeff's contribution to Yanksgiving dinner in Korea

(to nobody's great surprise)

Lemon Cheesecake
Makes 1-9 inch cheesecake (8 servings)

1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
6 tablespoons butter, melted

24 ounces cream cheese,

softened 1 cup white sugar

1 tablespoon com starch

3 eggs

1 tablespoon grated lemon zest 2/3 cup lemon juice

Directions

1 Combine cookie or graham cracker crumbs with butter or margarine. Press into bottom and partially up sides of 9 inch springform pan. Refrigerate.

2 In a large bowl, beat with an electric mixer the cream cheese, sugar, lime peel, and cornstarch untif smooth fluffy. Beat in eggs one at a time, blending just until smooth. Add key lime juice with mixer on low. Finish mixing by hand. Do not overbeat, or cake will crack during baking. Pour batter into prepared crust.

Bake at 300 degrees F (150 degrees C) for 55 to 65
minutes, or until set. To minimize cracking, place a shallow
pan half full of hot water on lower rack during baking.

Turn oven off, and let cheesecake stand in oven 30
minutes with the door open at least 4 inches. Remove from
oven. Refrigerate cake overnight, and up to three days.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 6.3

The third question comes from A. Christopher Garskey, formerly of Lindsay, Ontario. Mr. Garskey writes:

Dear Waeguk,

What is kimchi, and why would schoolchildren complain when it is dry? Also, I’ve heard positive reviews of Korean barbeque, but have never experienced it myself.
Have you indulged, and if so, what are your thoughts?
Also, have you noticed any seasonal changes in the local food?

The Waeguk Responds :

Kimchi is a staple of Korean cuisine. It's spicy pickled vegetables (most commonly cabbage), and is served with almost every meal. Most of my students will eat kimchi for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It's typically quite moist, and thus if it were dry schoolchildren would likely find it offensive to their finely honed palates.

As for Korean barbeque, it's one of my favourite types of food here in Korea. At the Korean barbeque restaurant I frequent most often, pork is the meat of choice. It's an almost bacon-like cut, brought raw to the table on plates piled high. Each table has its own little charcoal grill, and the meat is cooked with onions, hot peppers, garlic, and sliced potato. When done, one removes the bacon and vegetables from the grill and wraps it in mint or other leaves along with one's sauce of choice. It can be a bit messy at times, but is really quite delectable.

As for seasonal changes in the local food, I haven't noticed many as of yet. The persimmons and clementines are in season, and are being sold on the street along with the standards of fish and bananas, but I haven't yet detected any huge differences in the eating habits.