Happy Unbelievably Freezing Weather,

And welcome to another Foley in Korea. It’s winter time, boys and girls, but for all you lovers out there, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. Soon, everyone will be rushing around to get that amazing present for that special someone. Well, party people, look no further. I’ve got you the ultimate present, for a man or a woman, straight out of Korea, high-quality, built to last, and best of all, everyone can use it.

Here’s one more angle.

Now if it’s not totally obvious what this sleek, silver invention is, you’ve clearly never seen a ReFa wrinkle-reducer. My co-worker ordered this the other day and swears by it. She uses it every day. How does it work, you ask? Well, you simply grab the silver handle and slowly rub the balls all over your face…

Seriously, I can’t even write this. It totally looks like Silver Surfer’s penis and no one in Korea seems to make that connection. The Americans in my office were the only ones who fathomed a sliver of perversion from this. The moment she took it out of the box, we lost it laughing no one knew what the hell was going on. 

How’s that for a cultural difference?

But that’s Korea for you. Even after so long in this country, cultural norms still surprise the hell out of me. Like Christmas, for instance. In Korea, Christmas is actually a couple’s holiday, something along the lines of Valentine’s Days in the States. Now, while it’s not any more devoid of the birth of Jesus than American Christmas, our preconceived notions of what our version of Christmas will make what I’m about to tell you sound very strange. But, as it turns out, Christmas Eve is literally the best day of the year to pick up chicks.

No joke. Think about it. In Korea, it’s got the same basis of Valentine’s Day, a day for couples, but it’s a higher profile holiday. Not to mention, it’s right at the end of the year, and for all the the hyper-desperate women who need to start the New Year with someone special, this is their last real chance to hunt. Combined with the long, cold nights, it creates the perfect storm for irrational romantic decisions. I have friends who tell stories of going to the clubs and literally having to pry girls off of them. Hyperbole, maybe, but it does make a man think.

Speaking of cold nights, Seoul got pounded with snow not too long ago. While it turned the industrial megacity into a winter wonderland, it made me aware of the unhealthy Korean obsession with umbrellas. Koreans use umbrellas in every type of weather. They use it in the rain to protect against water, in the sun to protect against tanning and wrinkles, and in the snow to…what? Protect against the snow? Seriously, what the hell is that? Forgive this writer for his ignorant culture viewpoints, but there is something about snow umbrellas that is unholy and wrong. There, I said it. I’m not taking it back.

On the other side of the coin, I found myself pleasantly disgusted with the Korean foreigner population just recently as well. You see, on the whole, Korean people are quite fit. While obesity is on the rise do to the influx of American fast food, the percentage of overweight people in this nation is but a fraction what it is in the States. This translates to clothes being built with a thin, lanky body-type in mind. As you can imagine, I have no problem with this condition, but if I did end up putting on a few pounds and finding myself on the girthier end of the spectrum, I would have no idea where to go clothes shopping. Sizes in Korea run small, and the biggest thing I’ve found for T-shirts is an XL, which is the equivalent of a large in the States. That is…until I went Christmas Shopping. I came across the one and only Harley Davidson Dealership in Korea. This is the only place in Korea I’ve ever found that features the rare XXL and unheard of XXXL sizes. Now, one can only draw two conclusions from this. Either the Harley Store is catered to foreigners, or Harley Davidson’s somehow just seem to attract morbidly obese people in general. Either way, I find it quite funny.

And while we’re speaking of things that are funny because they’re massive, I recently went to a Noryangjin, the largest Korean fish market. For any of you looking to come to Korea, you have to come here. Even if you don’t like seafood, the experience alone is completely worth it. It is, in essence, a fish market—as in people selling fish. While that probably doesn’t exactly grab your interest cord and shake it for all that its worth, when you start to see what qualifies as “fish,” it becomes a lot more fun. Sea cucumbers, live octopus, and sea slugs are just some of the tasty treats you can purchase at this candy shop of underwater eatables, but the truly impressive thing is how stupidly big everything is here. King grabs that are the size of a three-year-old boy. You can see mussels as big as my head and shrimp the length of a billy club. Some of the tentacles are well over five feet in length. People, welcome to flavor country.

The best part is that there are restaurants connected right to the market, which means food never tasted so fresh…although the killing method isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. The sellers have these tools, something like a half club, half pick axe. The former they use first to stun the fish and the latter is for the deathblow through the eye. You’d think, after years of working there, they’d be better about their second hit placement, but sometimes it takes a little while, and it’s a bit gruesome as the fish flops around on the floor while the old dude with the axe tries to puncture its brain. Again, though, the taste is out of this world.

The last few months have been exciting in Korean news, as well. North Korea test launched a missile that made it further than Japan. The resulting implications of this are that they have the capability of sending a nuke a considerable distance with considerable accuracy. From what I heard when I was back in the States, the American news was very vocal about this…but that’s because American news loves sensationalizing stories. This was, for all intents and purposes, a pissing contest, and North Korea was simply trying to show that they could pee much farther than we thought they could pee. So no worries, my friends and family.

Likewise, Korea recently elected its first female president. Now, I’m all for women kickin ass and taking names in the political world, but Park Geun-hye, the newly elected leader, is a bit errrrrr…sketchy. To understand, let’s look back at the 1970’s and 80’s in Korea.

Following the years after the Korean War, Korean politics got pretty dark. The “democratic” government was really just wave after wave of military dictators, and they hated freedom with every fiber of their being. Gwangju, my former home, was the biggest opponent to this movement, protesting and fighting for freedom. Many died during the May 18^th, 1980 uprising in Gwangju, though this existed as a catalyst for change and ultimately led to free elections in Korea.

Fast forwarding a bit, Park Geun-hye is the daughter of one of those dictators. While I am not saying that this means she will be the violent dictator her father was, Koreans are awful quick to forget. At least, most of Korea. Gwangju and the Jeollado Province (the liberal part of Korea) are all horseshit over the results. Also, Park Geun-hye’s got a bit of George W. Bush syndrome, she got the job because of her daddy and doesn’t her qualification don’t really stack up. Perhaps strangest of all, in a country that is largely sexist, Park hasn’t really made any significant push for women’s rights. But hey, that’s probably why she got elected.

If it helps, men in Korea are getting far more in touch with their feminine side. BB Cream, a cosmetic I had been ignorant of prior to my arrival in Seoul, is totally man-friendly these days. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s cover-up, but now, it’s cool for men to do it. Kinda. On YouTube today, while in between video compilations of people falling down escalators, I saw an advertisement by Korea’s favorite celebrity, Psy, advertising BB Cream. Judge where you made judge, but in the end, it’s a total power move. Psy and BB Cream are now Korea’s two top exports, and this year, Korea is set to shatter its record breaking $4.3 billion dollar export record in 2011. This doesn’t really affect me on a day-to-day basis, except when I’m at the gym. Dudes wear BB cream there. It’s like, come on, bro, it’s the gym.

But, I shouldn’t judge things of such little significance. Shallow judgments lead to segregation, and segregation is bad. Korea, like everywhere else in this world, already has enough segregation. Racism, sexism, occupationalism, etc.  are all rampant in this nation, but Korea takes it all a step further as they segregate in…different ways. Three in particular come to mind:

1.)    American Military—There’s not a whole lot of love for American soldiers in Korea. While the vast majority of the soldiers here are just normal guys (and some girls) who just want to kick it on the weekends and stay out of trouble, the others ruin it for the lot. The term douchebag gets tossed around a lot these days, but these soldiers really epitomize what it means to douche it up hard. That’s not to say the Americans working in schools and businesses don’t start a fight now and then, but chances are, they’re not a massive, Kansas farm boy who has been trained to kill by the U.S. government. Seriously, some of these guys look like they eat rocks for breakfast, and when they get out of control, it’s akin to the Incredible Hulk. It’s no surprise that bars and clubs all over Seoul have signs that read “Military Personnel Not Admitted.”

2.)    Koreans—This one’s just weird. There are seven casinos in Korea. Koreans can go to one of them. I’m gonna let that one swim around in your head for a minute. Of the seven casinos in Korea, Koreans can go to only one. There are numerous theories as to why this is the case, all of which border on racism. This author endorses none of these theories, but will present them to you because he finds the reasoning awesome. 

·         Korean casinos were open in the past and it caused what was deemed as “social problems.” No further explanation was given.

·         Korean casinos are corrupt and want to steal money from Americans, Chinese, Japanese, because they hate anyone who is not Korean.

·         Casinos are irrational, wild, flashy, and risky. As this goes against the Korean ideals of rationality, stoicism, humility, and good-decision making, Korean people lose their damn minds in the casinos…along with all of their money.

Whatever the case may be, it’s bizarre.

3.) Hookers—One thing “Oppa Gangnam Style” fails to mention is the multitude of prostitution in Korea. A lot of dudes go to prostitutes in this country. I couldn’t find the exact statistic, but ballpark? It’s a lot. Businessmen go in droves after company parties, and it’s not hard to find one if you’re looking for it. The reason for this is a combination of the dated values of a patriarchal system of oppression and the fact that Korean prostitutes look good. They are not your run-of-the-mill toothless corner wenches who haven’t showered in weeks. They are more of your high-end-call-girl-variety who have been surged-out to perfection. Not that, you know, I’ve actually done anything with them...really I haven’t. I promise. WHY DON’T YOU BELIEVE ME?

The fact of the matter is, while most women work for an organization, others are freelance, trying to land a rich dude to pay them a stupid amount of money in return for some hanky-panky. In my last post, I mentioned how the online dating community is saturated with such freelancers. But it’s not just the internet community. Last weekend, though, I was in a tight-ass, upscale bar, where I noticed a hilarious sign. They’re so common in this joint called Glam, there’s actually a sign that reads “No Prostitutes.”

I say, where’s the love?

I apologize for not keeping up on my blog game, but it’s because of the sheer business of my life. I have been doing a freelance gig for CultureM Magazine, reviewing restaurants through writing and video. You can read my articles/watch my videos here and here. You can also view the model after party video I attended (yes, that’s right) through CultureM by clicking here. If you watch closely, you can see a half-second close-up of Fan Doley dancing with a model at 42 seconds in. Yes, I’m a very, very lucky boy.

I’ve also been editing my book, a long and infuriating process that involves more Scotch drinking than I care to admit. I’m about a quarter of the way done, so hopefully soon, I’ll have something I can start harassing publishing companies with. And, you know, if you guys want to read it, you’ll be able to.

Much love everyone. Know that I miss you all, and hope you’re all killin’ it, in any and all areas of life.

-42 Second Guy

Hello My Loving Family,

If you couldn’t tell by now, I kinda enjoy my life in this Land of Kimchi. However, it’s easy to love this place as a foreigner. We get to circumvent a lot of the pressure that comes with being an actual Korean person. The pressures of school, work, relationships—it seems like everything here is designed to crush your soul into a convenient little cube. Perhaps the greatest of these pressures, however, is that of Korean parents. Pressure in what, you ask? In everything.

Let’s start with marriage. In Korea, people rarely get married early or late in life, almost everyone gets hitched right around thirty years old, plus or minus two years. You know how American women talk about how “their biological clock is ticking” and it sends them into a hormonal tailspin where they become so man hungry and vulnerable that they almost can’t function? In Korea, it’s even worse.

I’ll tell you a quirky little anecdote from my own life to accentuate this point. When I was a fresh-faced college grad who had just moved to Korea, I was out at a karaoke on a Wednesday night. I had just finished belting out the greatest version of “Living on a Prayer” Korea ever heard, when a cute Korean girl approached me from across the room. Let’s call her Julie. After I brief conversation, I deciphered two essential details:

1.)    She had a boyfriend

2.)    She had cute friends she could introduce me to

Clearly, the second point appealed to me more. A week later, I ended up going out for drinks with Julie’s friend, a girl we’ll call Sally. Sally was shy and had received a fair amount of plastic surgery, but was cute and spoke decent English, so I gave her a shot. The problem was, whenever I asked her how old she was, she would always answer “age is not important.” Coming from a society where age determines respect, I found this answer to be suspect. But, she didn’t look like she could be much older than me, so I didn’t let it bother me.

Ultimately, the relationship fizzled out. I got over it, but the question of Sally’s age lingered in my mind. Then, almost eight months from the time we stopped dating, I was out with my kumdo brothers eating spicy octopus when I ran into Julie, the girl who had originally set up Sally and I. We got to talking, and the conversation went something like this:

Julie: Hey, Dan. Wow, you look really handsome.

Me: Yeah, I get that a lot. Hey, I never got a chance to thank you for setting me up with Sally. Sorry things didn’t work out.

Julie: Oh that’s okay, it happens. I’m sure you have no problem meeting girls with those muscles.

Me: Thanks, but you should probably calm down. You have a boyfriend.

Julie: Sorry, it’s just tough.

Me: I get that a lot. Hey, there was something I always wanted to ask you.

Julie: Anything for you, Dan.

Me: So, Sally would never tell me how old she was. She would always dodge the question.

Julie: Really? Do you want to know how old she is?

Me: Absolutely.

Julie: She’s thirty.

Me: Daaaammmnnn. Didn’t see that one coming.

Julie: Yeah, she looks a lot younger.

Me: What’s she up to these days?

Julie: Oh, she’s married.

Boom.

When I discovered this, my wheels started turning. If we assume she met the guy the day after we stopped dating AND we assume was married the day before I met Julie, their relationship, from inception to marriage was slightly less than eight months, and most likely way shorter than that. Or maybe she was two-timing me. The point is, when I tell this story to Korean people, though, they’re not surprised. Spending the rest of your life with someone becomes more and more spontaneous the closer you get to thirty.

I think the cause of this phenomenon that many unmarried men and women still live with their parents. Hell, most Korean girls have curfews well into their late-twenties. This is the reason why every girl I’ve dated in this country is fantastic at lying to their parents. Still though, this explains how marriage is, ironically, a kind of independence.

Even if you find the love of your life, it’s not that easy. They don’t only need to be good enough for you, they need to be good enough for Mom and Dad. Marrying someone your parents don’t approve of doesn’t really fly out here. Sometimes, parents veto the marriage for perfectly valid reasons. Sometimes, though, marriages get the thumbs-down for…psychic reasons.

Koreans are superstitious by nature. When big decisions arise, it’s off to the fortune teller. Using the art of shamanism, they can tell anything about you, from how many kids you’ll have to what your job will be in ten years. This isn’t just some random palm reading—there are entire schools of shamanism unique to Korea. Kwan-sang fortune tellers, for example, specialize in reading facial features. They determine future actions based on factors like how close you eyes are together or how high your forehead is. The logic is that the decisions you make help sculpt your face, so therefore your face is a guide to your future actions. Interestingly enough, some people opt to get plastic surgery, not to make themselves prettier per say, but rather to enhance their Kwan-sang appearance. Plastic surgery, in essence, to change their destiny. Weird, wild stuff.

This is not to be taken lightly. Recently, I knew a man who asked his girlfriend to marry him. His parents, in Korean tradition, went to a psychic after learning this. The psychic predicted their son would be divorced within three years if he married the woman. The parents immediately tried to veto the marriage, leading shit-storm of massive proportions within the family.

Yes, this is the fourteenth most powerful economic country in the world, but old habits die hard. Not that this author is trying to discredit the validity of psychics. Who’s to say they can’t really tell the future? Koreans even acknowledge there are a lot of fakes, but some truly have the ability to see into the future. Still, though. Calling off your son’s wedding because of something a stranger on the street told you? That’s cold, baby. Ice cold.

Now let’s go to my favorite topic, women. As we all know, Korea is the plastic surgery capital of the world, but why? What is it about this region of the globe that instills this need to go under that beautifying knife? While doing some research on that very topic, I came across this little gem: “Twenty-five percent of Korean mothers who have daughters between the ages of twelve and sixteen suggested plastic surgery to their daughter.” Wow. Thanks, Mom. Sadly, this doesn’t surprise me, nor does this statistic: “81.5 percent of women between twenty-five and twenty-nine felt the need for cosmetic surgery.”

Numbers don’t lie, baby. Approximately half the adult females of Korea have received plastic surgery, many of them unnecessarily. The root cause is this omnipotent social pressure. And if you can’t buy into these bogus statistics, check this. I’ve dated my fair share of Korean hotties and all of them have considered plastic surgery at one point or another. A couple even admitted to getting it. One of the girls who hadn’t was constantly berated by her aunt to get her eyes and nose done, despite the fact she was perfectly lovely. As sick as it is, though, it comes from a place of love. They want their daughters to be successful, and in Korea, just like most of the world, pretty people just get farther in life.

It’s not just with looks. Pressure extends into the realm of education too. Korean parents spend an average of one thousand dollars per child per month on private academies from the time they’re six years old. What makes this even more impressive is that the average salary in Korea is less than two thousand dollars per month. You can imagine why little Billy Lee isn’t so much encouraged to “find his passion” as get perfect scores on every single test he takes. And if he falls short, well, that’s why God invented corporal punishment.

But it’s not all psychics, savage beatings and bank-breaking debt. Korean company life has taught me the joys of 회식 (pronounced “hway-shik”). This is the the pressure of the forced-drinking variety. 회식 translates to something like “company food,” the idea being that workers and bosses go out together to eat. In reality, everyone just ends up getting sloppy drunk. Or, at least, I do. The older company men at work have really taken a shining to me, especially the one we call “Soju Guy.” I have yet to go out for a 회식where my memory stays intact. The Koreans actually have a term for this, called “필름이 끊겼다” which translates to “My film got cut.”

In addition to the pressures of family and work, there’s the societal pressure to speak English. Koreans spend an unnatural amount of time studying English. A common ground for such practice “language exchanges.” These are weekly coffee shop events, where foreigners and Koreans go to chill out, sip on lattes and practice various languages. Every time I go, I encounter so many Korean college students, trying like hell to master the English language, and I applaud their efforts. Likewise, I encounter so many foreigner dudes there with the sole purpose of picking up a Korean college girl. Scummy, yes, but also highly effective.

Societal pressure extends even further, out to the dating world. Korea is a country built for couples, and having a boyfriend or girlfriend is kind of a status symbol. Innovations have been made to make this process easier, including a slew of mobile application helping people to meet up and go on dates together. I recently downloaded one called “Badoo” just for the hell of it. While browsing through the list of girls, I found one who was actually pretty cute. Now, despite the fact that this author believes online dating is totally lame, he was a little curious that night and decided to message said cutie in Korean. The following is the translated exchange:

Me: Hey

Badoo Girl: Where are you?

Me: I’m in Itaewon. You?

Badoo Girl: Itaewon’s kinda far, but I can go. Do you want a paid meeting?

Me (trying to understand what a paid meeting is): How much is a paid meeting?

Badoo Girl: Eighty dollars for the short meeting, Sixteen for the long.

Me: So you don’t just want to get drinks?

In case if you missed it, she was a hooker. I tried it out with another few girls, same result. First question is always: “Where are you?” As it turns out, Badoo is essentially an extensive online network of prostitution, and it’s not the only one. Sure, there are real girls there too, but a lot of them (especially the knockouts) are just trying to make a little scratch. Lesson learned: smoking hot girls don’t need a dating service, but some of them do need money.

However, I’m going to take a wild guess and say she didn’t really look like this…

We foreigners are sometimes victim to this Korean pressure as well, even when we’re not aware of it. English academies, where most foreigners work, often put teachers through hell. A year ago, when my replacement teacher came in from America, they constantly criticized his teaching and fired him several times in the first week. In reality, it wasn’t because his teaching was bad, but rather because his hair was too long, which made them fear he was a homosexual. Another dude I met (the only dude in Seoul I’ve met from Boston) likewise got fired from his English Academy after one week of work. The fake reason? His manager “didn’t like his style.” The real reason? He couldn’t speak Korean. His manager believed this might cause a rift in their communication, seeing as he, the manager of an English academy, couldn’t speak English.

I talk a lot about Korea, but it’s always good to know that the rest of East Asia is just as wacky. Some of you may have seen the news about the Chinese man sued his wife for being ugly. Yes, this really happened. 

Here’s how it went down:

A man marries a woman who he finds stunning. Life is good. Then she gets pregnant, and life couldn’t be better. Then the baby comes out and everything goes to hell. Why? Because the baby is really, really ugly. Like, circus ugly. So ugly, in fact, that the man had this to say:

“Our daughter was incredibly ugly, to the point it horrified me.”

Being a good-looking man, he naturally assumed her of cheating on him. After all, it was the only possible way such a disturbingly ugly child could be born to his wife. If only that were the case. In a classic 21^st-century twist, it turns out his wife had once been quite ugly herself. However, after undergoing over one hundred thousand dollars in plastic surgery, she turned into a beauty queen. With the truth discovered, the man rescinded his accusation, and then sued her for “marriage under false pretenses.” He ultimately won, and was awarded the equivalent of her plastic surgery costs. That poor kid.

Shown here, the wife, before and after.

And if that story doesn’t warm your soul, here’s a treat from the Land of the Rising Sun:

To say the Japanese are a bunch of insatiable sex-perverts would be a horribly racist thing to say, and this author would never be caught dead pushing such smut. Switching topics for a minute, Japan recently hosted its annual Charity Breast Squeeze Event for the prevention of AIDS. Really, here's the link. As part of the “Erotica will Save the World” campaign, ten adult film actresses volunteered to allow their sweater cows to be squeezed for donations to charity. The event was wildly successful this year. Many participants, after donating and squeezing, got right back in line to donate and squeeze again. Disgusting or genius? You be the judge.

Side note: there was another booth at this charity function known as the “Masturbation Marathon.” No further description was provided.

And as long as we’re off topic, let’s talk about food. As you know, I am always in search for bizarre fare from far off lands. But, in my heart of hearts, I’m really just a freedom-loving American boy who loves a good burger. Finding American food in Korea isn’t hard. Finding good American food in Korea is almost impossible. Most places are just filled with noobs peddling flavorless, bastardized mini-burgers or salads covered in corn and sauerkraut for some terrible reason. Such places leave me feeling cheated and used, like a rebound girl who thought she found the one. There is, however, one place in Seoul that is the exception to this rule.

Located on Apgu Rodeo, just above the NBA store is a gem known as Salt n’ Butter. I mean, sure, it’s got a friendly staff, open kitchen, good music, all the elements of good atmosphere, but if you’re anything like me, for you, it all boils down to taste. So, what about the food?

What would say to peach salads with goat cheese that eat like a meal, spicy buffalo wings served with French fries dripping in home made chili, and the only authentic pesto pasta in all of Seoul? Yes, it has all of these, but where Salt n’ Butter really shines is the burgers. Before Salt n’ Butter, I never thought I would find a burger that would rival an all-American patty, let alone transcend it. The true testament to this is in the care that goes into every burger. The owner built a smokehouse and personally smokes all the bacon himself. If that’s not commitment, I know not the definition of this word.

My latest addiction at Salt n’ Butter is the spicy chicken sandwich, which, I kid you not, is the fattest chicken sandwich I have ever eaten. Seriously, it looks like they stuffed an entire chicken in between two toasted buns, dripping in hot sauce and slaw.

Dear God, it’s beautiful. Ever since I left America, there’s a hole inside me I’ve been trying to fill, and I’m pretty sure this burger is the answer.

You know people, life out here is truly a roller coaster ride. There are highs and lows, adventure and longing, decision and indecision. It’s not all delicious burgers and breast squeezing. Sometimes, I am riddled with doubt. It’s not hard, being away for this long from the people I love to not sometimes wonder if I had made a mistake coming out here. Not that it hasn’t been amazing. Surely, it has. But with every decision we make, we embrace one world and destroy another. My mind sometimes thinks about those worlds that never existed, had I spent the last two years in Boston, or gone to grad school, or joined the Peace Core.

But then, something usually comes along and reminds me that I’m on the right path, at least for the time being. The topic of this blog was Korean pressure, especially that of parents. But it’s true around the world, parents put pressure on their children, whether they want to or not. When you become a parent, you go a little insane. There’s no avoiding it. You have to be crazy to devote your life to completely taking care of another. That’s the beautiful part about it.

That’s why I’m happy to announce that my Korean brother Alex and his lovely wife Helena have just given birth to a very healthy and very awesome baby boy. I never imagined be an uncle, especially the uncle to a Korean baby, but like I said, life has a way of coming along and showing us whether or not we’re on the right path.

So, to my nephew, Dan Yu Kim (김단유), thank you, and welcome to the world, little man.

-Uncle Dan

Foley Gangnam Style

Hello Lovers of Gangnam,

There is a matter of grave importance that must be addressed before we begin. It is a topic that is neither pleasant, nor happy. I fought this with every morsel of power in my being, but sometimes, one must know when to relinquish one’s stubbornness and embrace the inevitable. I’m referring, of course, to Psy and his megaton-bomb of a hit, “Oppa Gangnam Style.”

For those of you that have been living under a rock, here is the video:

 And it’s sweeping the world like some sort of Ebola Dance Virus. The other night in Seoul an impromptu Gangnam-style concert brought in a crowd of 50,000 onlookers. I saw the Today Show coverage with an endless mob of New Yorkers all dancing in unison to Psy’s siren tune. I mean, the man just got signed by Justin Bieber’s manager. I can’t go a day on Facebook without seeing a mention of it. People…I just don’t get it. I’m not saying it’s a bad song. The first time I heard it, I was like, “Yeah, that’s kinda fun.” But…how is it blowing up like this?

As a side note, the meaning behind “Oppa Gangnam Style” is in reference to the place, known as “Gangnam,” the upscale, hyper-snobby shopping/eating/partying area located centrally in Seoul. It’s a mockery of the shallow, materialistic mindset of both the mega-rich and those who pretend to be so strutting around Gangnam. It really is quite clever. But still…I…I just don’t get it.

And apparently, neither do the Japanese, who are boycotting the release of his song. As it turns out, while the Japanese normally love Kpop, they can’t stand Psy. The explanation? The Japanese only dig Kpop because the singers are so pretty…and Psy just doesn’t cut it for them. I expect that out of a horny teenage boy, but an entire country? For shame, Japan.

But enough of my hating. Welcome back to the infamous Foley in Korea blog. Between the last post and this one, my two year anniversary in this lovely country came and passed, and now I am on year three. Crazy, yes?

Sometimes I fear that this country has started to lose some of its mojo for me, that the novelty has worn off and there is nothing to awe me anymore. Whenever such a feeling comes over me, I always take a walk at night, and my love for this land is always refreshed by this beautiful sight.

No, this is not some homeless guy. This is a man who most likely has a wife and kids, a fairly good paying job, and maybe even a vacation house in Jeju. But yes, he is sleeping on the street, above one of the subway street vents. For the record, this is on the main road of Itaewon, one of the biggest districts in Seoul. I snapped this on my way home, at about four in the morning. This is not a rare sight. Korean men, after consuming large quantities of adult beverages, often find themselves a cozy little street corner to pass out in. Why? Because taxis are too expensive and the streets are just so damn comfortable. The astonishing thing is that nothing ever happens to these people.

In America, Thailand, France, any other country, if you pass out in the street, you’ve already given up on your wallet and your shoes. You just have to pray no one is going to snag your organs while they’re at it. In Korea, the drunken street-sleeper only fear upon waking is that his wife is going to castrate him. Here’s a few more candids of said phenomenon.

 For these and more beautiful shots, check out the website devoted to Korean dudes sleeping on the side of the street at http://blackoutkorea.blogspot.kr/

 This level of cushiness isn’t just confined to narcoleptic partiers, though. The other day, I lost my wallet. Now, normally this would be upsetting, as it was made of alligator skin and a gift from my lovely Korean sugar mama…but then I remembered, “Oh wait. I’m in Korea.” It was waiting for me at the store I had left it at, money and cards intact. Now, it’s true that not everyone outside of Korea is a soulless wallet ganker. Hell, you might have encountered the same thing in America, finding your wallet safe and sound in the store clerk’s hands. Here’s the difference: in America, you assume it’s gone. You drive to the store in a pissed-off fear that someone is using your credit cards to buy a new diamond tiara. In Korea, you strut with pride, knowing that alligator skin is just chilling in that store, waiting for daddy. Hell, I’ve dated girls who have lost wallets in taxis, and then the next day, the taxi will drive to their house to deliver it.

Ah, Korean girls. Can I go one blog post without mentioning them? Of course not. But they are a dangerous creature—the black hair, the long legs, the seductive eyes—all combine to form a man-slaughtering she-beast that shows no mercy. Perhaps the most deadly weapon this she-beast has is the destructive force known as “aegyo” (애교). Aegyo, in a nutshell, is the Korean word for women acting cute in order to attain things from men. It walks a fine line between being adorable and annoying as hell, but the women who can successfully wield this weapon are like sexy cyanide. The most common practice of this is with the word “oppa” (오빠), And yes, to answer your next question, the very same meaning as “Oppa Gangnam Style”.) Oppa directly translates to “older brother,” but is in reality closer to something like “baby” or “honey.” Usually it’s used in the context of “buy me that” or “do this for me.” But it is more than just a word. It is also a complicated manipulation of speech, to sound overly bubbly and helpless, and, if executed properly, melts me like a stick of butter thrown into the sun. For a cartoonish and goofy depiction of this culturally acceptable seduction, refer to the video below.

(It's way hotter in real life. I promise.) 

Women are not the only dictators men in Korea have to deal with, however. Every single Korean man must devote at least two years of his life to the military. That’s the rule. There are no exceptions…unless, of course, they have some sort of serious medical condition that prohibits them from service…or something that fits under the umbrella of “serious medical condition.” You see where I’m going with this. There is a group of Korean men who are the modern equivalent of those American dudes in the sixties who were chopping of their pinky toes to get out of going to Vietnam. The only difference is the Koreans have got it down to a science. There are actual online guides for dodging military service using the least painful methods possible. One guy developed a system where, every day when leaving his apartment, he would jump down each and every step of his apartment building. He did this every day for three years. The result somehow altered the bone structure of his knees to the point he was no longer “a viable applicant” for the Korean Army, despite the fact he could walk run just fine. Or, as another of my friends is doing, you can just leave the country every two months, thus avoiding your call to boot camp for the viable excuse of “being out of the country.”

Totally unrelated, but the other day, at the office, I received an interesting comment from a coworker. After I got a hair cut and a shave, a guy in my office said to me:

“Hey man, you look shiny today.”

And it was true…I did look shiny. It got me thinking about language, though, and how differently we understand the world around based off words.

Also unrelated, the other day I discovered that one of the best known red light districts in Seoul is literally a stone’s throw away from my apartment. It is the infamous region of Itaewon known as “Hooker Hill.” Here, a man can be propositioned for sex at 9:30AM on a Sunday morning. Wow, the service!

(It's about as swanky as it gets.)

One more element of randomness before I get to the point of this blog. Far be it for me to call myself a man of culture, but I recently bore witness to one of the best films I have ever seen. Dark, hilarious, mind-bending, action packed, disturbing, and beautiful are just some of the words to describe the Award-Winning Korean film “Oldboy” – a story of vengeance. I highly recommend watching it, especially as the American remake, directed by Spike Lee and starring Josh Brolin, is set to come out next year. That way, you can be one of those people who think they’re better than everyone else because they’ve already seen the original. Fair warning, though, it’s for the faint of heart.

(Classic scene from Oldboy)

The real reason I wanted to bring all you here is for a discussion on North Korea. In a worldwide poll, North Korean citizens score lowest in terms of personal freedom. This means that that Cubans, the Sudanese, and Iraqis are all way freer than North Korea. That’s really saying something. Will this ever change? I don’t know. Last year, such talk would seem insane, with Kim Jong-Il in power. This is a man whose people were starving to death while he was invented his own version of basketball. Like…really. The man created a version of basketball which is, by all measures, insane. It completely revises the point system into something far more swag. Here’s the breakdown:

Dunk: 3 points

Three pointer nothing-but-net: 4 points

Missing a free throw: Negative 1 point

Any shot in the last three seconds: 8 points

…I actually kinda like it.

But now he’s dead. And with him out, his son, the very young Kim Jong-Un, is stepping into power, and there are some changes being made. For instance, he recently built a water amusement park for his people. Unlike the creepy, unnaturally happy people you usually see on the news, these people actually looked happy. He is also allowing women to wear pants, because evidently they were not allowed to do so before. And, finally, pizza is now allowed in North Korea. Thank God.

They’re also finally accepting South Korean Aid again. What this means, I know not. But I’ve been learning more and more about it with time, as I recently began tutoring North Korean defectors. The process is very surprising. I was warned, prior to this tutoring, that it would take place in a police station, and I was not allowed to ask them questions about life in North Korea. Taking pictures of them was forbidden, as any photographic evidence of their existence in South Korea could spell death or jail time for their families still living in North Korea.

As expected, I was slightly nervous stepping into that police station. After all, there was some inevitable heavy shit ahead of me.

Then I got there and they were so normal. I was talking with one high school girl who kept bitching about having too much homework. Another girl was telling me how she had just started dating this guy and couldn’t tell if he was a playboy or not. It was shocking how benign their lives were. The icing on this uber-normal cake was the conversation I overheard between a North Korean dude and his English Tutor:

English Tutor: What kind of movies do you like?

North Korean Dude: War movies are my favorite.

English Tutor: You ever see “Pearl Harbor?”

North Korean Dude: Hey man, I’m not gay.

It’s like I’m just taking a walk in Southie. The sheer normalness of these people who once lived in North Korea is so refreshing and happy. I guess it proves that, if the human person is anything, he is an adaptable beast.

Last thing, people, and that is mission accomplished. From January of this year, until now, I’ve been working on a novel about a young man living in Korea; his experiences with food and culture and girls and life. I know, it’s a pretty far out idea. But just last week I finished the first draft. It’s 120,000 words. For reference, that’s slightly longer than the third Harry Potter book. But, it’s rough, a lot of it is crap, and it needs some revising for sure. But, in a few months, after I wax-on, wax-off it into something prettier, I’m going to need some poor souls to suffer through it as editors. Please, let me know if any of you are the slightest bit interested.

But that’s all for now. Much love, party people. I miss you all very much.

-North Korean Pizza Delivery Guy

Beauty Queens and Costco: the Shocking Truth

Hello Beauty Queens,

It occurred to me, while writing this entry, that almost every blog entry I write touches on the issues of plastic surgery and food in Korea. This one will be no different. But why? I always knew that my addiction to food borders on that of a crack-addict, but I have little explanation for my strange fixation with plastic surgery. Perhaps it’s because, while I hate the Korean obsession of appearance and their reliance on plastic surgery, I really, really, really dig hot chicks. They may be the only thing in this world I love more than food. But it comes at a terrible price. Behold, the story to come.

Miss Korea. Doesn’t every little girl dream of being that someday? I know I did, until my Dad beat that dream out of me. Just like in America, Miss Korea is the classic example of girls with no real talents beyond looks, and possibly, juggling, being rewarded by society. This is not to knock them. It is nothing short of amazing just how stunningly beautiful these girls are. For instance, this is Miss Korea 2012.

I know. Here’s one more of her, just because I love her so much.

 

Okay…okay, just one more.

Alright, now that I got that out of my system, let’s get to the point. Her victory in the pageant was recently tarnished when past photographs of her were revealed online. As it turned out, she had gotten a little work done. But, you’re probably thinking, this is Korea, right? Doesn’t ever Korean Movie/Drama/K-pop star get surgery? Why, yes. Yes they do. But this was not a simple nose job. This was the human equivalent to tearing down a crappy apartment complex and then rebuilding it stone by stone into a castle. This, is what Miss Korea looked like in high school.

 

Let’s see that side by side.

 

Yeah, I know.

 

Whew. Glad that’s over. Now we can finally talk about food…kinda.

I recently underwent an experience both horrifying and great, akin to something of a religious or sexual awakening. That’s right, boys and girls, I found out Korea has Costco. And I went. While my words cannot adequately describe the intense emotional bungee jump that Korean Costco was, I will attempt my best.

To anyone who has ever been to Costco in America, the Korean one is exactly, and I mean exactly, the same…except it’s in in Korea. While that might not sound like it means anything, you have to take in the socio-cultural aspects of Koreans and understand why this changes the game completely.

You see, Koreans, for being an extremely industrious people, are hideously unorganized and inefficient when it comes to things like, you know, walking in a store. There are no lines, no flow, no people letting other people cross in front of them. There is only chaos, and the occasional sound of a baby crying. Combine this with the knowledge that there is only one Costco in Seoul, a city with a population of over ten million. And, as Korea is such a small country, building space is extremely expensive, which means the aisles of the Korean Costco are far narrower to save costs. What this equates to is a small slice of hell. I have no history of claustrophobia. Somehow, though, I got claustrophobic in Costco, which is impressive because it’s in a warehouse. Here’s the photographic evidence.

 

Why endure this punishment? Like I said before, it’s the exact same thing as an American Costco, meaning that is has American food. While that might mean nothing to you lucky souls kickin’ it in your Western Paradise, us stragglers in the East are deprived the basic necessities. Korean grocery stores just don’t handle this kind of merchandise. What am I talking? I’m talking Cheese. Real blocks of cheddar, pepper jack, blue, feta, gouda, anything you can think of. Real bread from a bakery that doesn’t feel the need to put corn in it. Muffins, bagels, danishes. Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Frozen chicken wings. Real cheesecake. Three pound tubs of chocolate covered cherries. Cheese balls. Sour cream. Peanut butter cups. I almost cried. It was like Christmas and the Super Bowl at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show all rolled up into one.

So with Costco, there’s the bad, there’s the good, and then, like everything else in Korea, there’s the weird. My friends, Koreans love side dishes. Most meals require numerous side dishes. Even with Western things like pizza, Korean need pickles as a side dish. Or with fried chicken, they eat radishes. With that in mind, I give you the Korean Costco food court. Identical to the American one. They sell the big-ass pizzas, all-pork hot dogs, and those cankle-building chicken pot pies that we all love so much. And, as anyone who frequents Costco knows, they have diced onion dispensers for the hot dogs. Here’s where the weird pops in. Koreans eat those onions as a side dish. As in, they just take a giant cup, fill it up, sift it down, fill it up some more, pack it down, and just saturate it with ketchup and mustard. Then they eat it with a spoon. Sometimes without any other food accompanying it. They suck this stuff down like Coca Cola. We saw a lady taking a huge sheet of tin foil and loading up as much diced onions as she could for the ride home. While seeing this made me feel a million miles away from home, the woman right next to her performed an act that was nothing short of glorious. In true American fashion, she consumed half of her one pound, all-pork hotdog in a single, massive bite. At once, I felt home.

And while we’re on the subject of food, I spent a cool 24 hours in Tokyo a couple weekends ago. One of the best trips of my life for sure. The high school reunion, the night of partying that raged well into 10AM, and a plethora of gorgeous Japanese babes trying to marry me were all factors, but perhaps the two most unique experiences were of the culinary variety.

The first, Japanese noodles. Noodles chilling in a brown broth with pork is undeniably delicious, though the truly noteworthy thing is the ordering procedure for this treat. Instead of dealing with a person, you place an order through a vending machine. You decide the details, and then out comes your order slip. Then you’re led to what resembles a library study area. Individual divided desks are lined up, facing the kitchen. There is only a small window in which to see into the kitchen, which restricts your vision to just the midsections of the chefs. The true reason for this window, of course, is for the chef to hand you your meal. I feel like it’s the perfect premise for a Japanese romance. The lonely businessman falls in love with the mysterious woman in the kitchen whose face he never sees. It is only her beautiful hands delivering the perfect bowl of noodles, but that is enough for him. Or something lame like that.

 

The other thing I ate was raw chicken. Pretty good, and I didn’t catch the salmonella, which we’re all pretty happy about.

While this Olympics had no shortage of drama, one of the largest on this side of the world was the heated soccer match over rival countries Korea and Japan for the bronze. Korea emerged triumphant. Being an Olympic medalist is no doubt a source of pride and happiness to an athlete, but in Korea, it’s also a source of great relief. As you may be aware, every man in Korea serves an obligatory and miserable two years in the army. That is, unless you’re a medalist in the Olympics. With their victory came emancipation, as the entire Korean Men’s Soccer Team was exempt from military service. The coach even threw in his last bench guy for the final seconds of the game just so he was able to skip his army time. Awesome.

As much as I sometimes think of myself as a citizen of this kimchi-saturated land, from time to time, differences are inevitable. For instance, at work, being on a team with Americans surely creates a divide. Sure, our Korean coworkers come into our part of the office to partake of our snacks and sleep in the broken swivel chair in the corner. Where we differ is when the day end. There is a Korean concept that does not exist in English that we detest. It is that of “야근” or “yageun.” This is the very Korean idea of working late without pay because…well, no one really knows why. In an American office, if all your work is done, by three minutes after closing time you’re outside trying to start your car. In Korea, you stick around for another half hour, to an hour because…again, I don’t know why. All I know is that, when we do to escape the office on-time, we must endure the silent judgmental glares from the higher ups for not yageuning.

Sometimes, though, the differences between foreigners and Koreans are a little more serious. Tensions mount. There is, amongst some of the Korean community, a loathing of foreigners in Korea. While not totally unfounded, some Koreans simply hate us. A couple months ago, there was the following absurd news story on the Korean Network MBC entitled “The Shocking Truth About Foreigners:”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B09FXOZVw4g

First five seconds of the broadcast are a montage of cocky white dudes and Korean women who have been the “victims” of foreigners. These girls claimed to have been robbed after sex or foreigners knocking them up and then leaving the country. One girl even tested positive for HIV. This is, as the video claims, “the shocking truth” about foreigners in Korea. While it is nothing more than ignorant propaganda, what boils me about it is that some people actually buy into this horseshit. They make us sound like a plague in this country, devastating the women and leaving a trail of STD’s to everyone who touches us. While I love this country, this is a problem that always exists—the discrepancy between foreigners and Koreans.

The same is true on our side, though. The disrespect both teachers and army personnel show in this country, especially the men towards Korean women, is just as bad, if not worse. Websites exist on guys sharing their stories and pictures of Korean girls they’ve bagged. Yes, scumbag dudes do this everywhere, but it’s the way in which it’s done. The depictions, from what I’ve read, are from the darkest reaches of the racist douchebag who thinks he’s funny. There’s a lack of respect and human decency, which is multiplied in crappiness by the fact that we are guests in this country.

The Dan Foley solution to this problem? You knew there would be one. Both sides just need to embrace each other.

I’m a big hater of tourism. I love traveling, but I think tourism is artificial and worthless. Tourism, in my mind, is visiting a place. The problem is, some foreigners in Korea act like tourists, and some Koreans treat us that way. When you visit a place, it is a vacation, something superficial and for yourself. I know people who have lived in this country for over a year and are still tourists. But then there are those who aren’t. People who come to a country and experience it. They become part of it. Add to it. Korean people need to stop seeing foreigners as outsiders, and foreigners need to stop acting like it.

I was lucky. I learned Korean sword fighting and was accepted as a brother amongst them. I’ve fallen for and had real connections with girls here. And, maybe the coolest thing of all, something I never thought I’d get to experience, I’m going to.

I get to be an uncle.

As you know, being an only child, while awesome, limits you in the sense that you never get to have nieces and nephews. But, with my adoption into a Korean family, my brother Alex and his wife Helena are having a baby. This October, actually.

And as for all you cats in the States (to whom I love and miss so dearly), I’ll be back home for a bit this Christmas. So, if you got a couple minutes, it’d be good to see you. Each and every one of you.

-Uncle Dan

Sexy Cakes and SPAM

Before I get started - just to let you all know, my blog URL is moving to http://foleyinkorea.tumblr.com/. Same great blog, different great URL.
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Hello Fake-Meat Consumers,

Lately, Korean people have been saying something to me that messes with my head. I get it in my home, at work, in the clubs. They say it to me with a look of surprise and disdain, and I never really know how to take it. It always goes something like:
“Damn, you’re more Korean than I am.”

Sure, I occasionally enjoy kimchi and eggs in the morning. And, yeah, once in a while, I groove to some K-pop. And there might be a chance my love of Korean girls borders on the point of creepy obsession. But am I more Korean than a Korean? No way, man. I take it as a compliment, for others to believe that I’ve assimilated this well. But, despite how accustomed I become to living this country, there are certain things about Korea that my mind will always reject as wrong.

For instance, SPAM.


Yes, we’ve all had it at one point or another, when money was tight or when Mom forgot to go grocery shopping. There are only two sane reactions before consuming SPAM. The first is disbelief—the existential question of “Seriously, what the hell is this?” (Spoiler alert: nobody really knows).

The second is classic self-deception. We tell ourselves: “Oh come on, it can’t be that bad…can it?” One bite will tell you, yes, yes it can be that bad and worse. At least, that’s the standard American reaction. And it makes sense. It’s canned, chemical infused, pig shoulder leftovers. No one actually wants SPAM, do they?

Enter South Korea. They dig SPAM here. They dig it hard. They dig it so hard that for national holidays, it is standard practice to give a SPAM Gift Set. What’s in the SPAM Gift Set? SPAM, packaged in a display case in the same way you would see exotic cheeses or high end alcohol.


Really, no joke.

Koreans see it as some sort of delicacy, whereas, when I see it, my knee-jerk reaction is a full body heave. This proves, at least to myself, I am American to the core of my system.
Even with so much time spent in this country, so many culture norms still surprise the hell out of me. Despite the absurd amounts of outside Influence, Korea manages to stay its own monster. Let’s keep the examples coming:

In an attempt to reform my lanky figure into something that more resembles Brad Pitt in Fight Club, I recently joined a gym with my roommate in Itaewon. As Itaewon is the hub of foreigners in Korea, you can bear witness to all walks of life as they pump iron. There’s the hyper-friendly and hyper-enormous African man, the Mohawked-out, tattoo encrusted American guy who complains to anyone willing to listen, and one dude of mysterious origin looks like Stallone’s slightly-disturbed younger brother. Usually though, you don’t notice where people are from, because you’re too busy flexing your guns in front of the mirror. However, there is one slight discrepancy, one thing that Korean guys will do that no one else would ever be caught dead doing: Lifting weights barefoot.

Even as a person who prefers to spend most of his time shoeless (and, of course, pants-less),  I still can’t get behind this one. Aside from creating a breeding ground for staff infections and ringworm, not wearing shoes when you lift is stupidly dangerous. It’s like cooking naked. I mean sure, it’s more comfortable, but the fear of flames charring my goods keeps me clothed in the kitchen.

As a side note, most Korean guys have a lean to skinny build, so it’s very interesting to see a Korean dude straight yoked out of his mind.


Am I right?

And I do get nostalgic for the good ‘ole U.S. of A from time to time. The other day, I caught up with an old friend from high school I hadn’t seen in six years. We decided to check out Vatos, a new Mexican joint less than a year old that got rave reviews (#1 Hottest New Restaurant in Seoul by CNNGo). But, If you recall me saying in one of my older entries, hunting down a good Mexican in Korea is like trying to find a unicorn.

Well, I found it.

How good are we talking? Home-made tortillas, legit carne asada steak, and a stupid-big beer selection. I felt home. It didn’t hurt that the guys who started up Vatos are a group of L.A. Koreans who know Mexican food inside and out. In true L.A./Korean style, they also offer a selection of fusion food, blending Mexican and Korean into a single delicious entity. It might sound strange in theory, but in practice they kill it. Some of the features include grilled kimchi carne asada fries, sam-gyup-sal (pork belly) tacos, and my person favorite, Texas-sized Makgeolita. What is a Makgeolita? Half-Margarita, Half-Korean-wine Makgeoli, coming in flavors of apple, peach, strawberry, orange, and, oh yes, mango.



I consider myself a pretty evenly minded cat (though, I suppose everyone does), but even if you trust me, this next observation might seem harsh. Most of the elements of Korean Culture that irk me are pretty benign, but there is one thing I truly despise. There exists, in this country, a shallowness, an intense focus on that which is material and aesthetic, and it’s really, really bad.

I’m not gonna restate old points in this post (like how half of the chicks out here get plastic surgery) but moving to Seoul has made me a bit colder to the culture here. Gwangju could be shallow at times, but Seoul is on a whole ‘nother level of shallowness. I’m talking kiddy pool shallow.

To be fair, some of it could be dismissed as practical. For instance, Korean women take it as dogma that no man is worth marrying that doesn’t already have his own apartment, own car, and job of “high-esteem.” While this makes sense pragmatically, the hardcore romantic inside of me cries out in agony. What ever happened to the notion of the young married couple struggling together, huddled under a blanket because there’s not enough money for heat this winter, staying warm on love and dreams? Where’s the adventure? Where’s the passion, baby?

That might just be me being crazy and unrealistic. Truly, though, some of the shallowness in this country is just downright nasty. The epicenter of this phenomenon? Night clubs. The other night at the club, one of my boys was dancing with this very pretty girl and offered to buy her a drink. She accepted, and he promptly returned with two Heinekens. Her response, upon seeing the beers, was:
“Beer? I only drink champagne.”

Now, I know this exact exchange has probably gone down in New York, Paris, Hong Kong, and any city where excessive wealth can be found. But it’s the consistency at which you see this happen, especially if you’re a guy like me. At the venues I’ve been frequenting, more and more, girls see me as a dollar sign (instead of the hot piece of meat that I am). And, when they discover that dollar sign is so very small, they lose interest immediately. In Seoul, in the battle between the wallet and the heart, the wallet wins nine times out of ten.

On a sociological level it makes sense. You take a dirt poor country torn by invasion and civil war, and then in fifty years transform them into the one of the world’s strongest economies. What’s going to happen? You’re going to create a culture focused on success, especially success with the Almighty Dollar. Korea is often strangely reminiscent of 1950’s America and the whole “keeping up with the Jones’” mentality.

But, if superficiality is Korea’s vice, its virtue is family. Korea’s foundation in family is a truly remarkable thing. They stay together ‘til the bitter end. This is one of the largest factors in the lack of crime and low percentage of homeless people. But I mostly dig it for the family parties. Speaking of which, I recently got a chance to go down to Suncheon to celebrate my Korean Father’s book publication. Some things worth mentioning:

We had a bokbunja cake. Bokbunja is a Korean raspberry rice wine that Koreans claim is “good for men’s stamina.” After saying it, they usually giggle. Because they’re talking about sex. Usually, when Koreans make such claims, I try the stuff and have no idea what the hell they’re talking about. This was different. I can’t logically explain it, but somehow, with the bokbunja cake, they were right. It was the sexiest baked good I’ve ever had.

Even crazier was the Tiger Soju. I’ll cut right to the chase on this one. Whether it was bullshit or not, I’ll never know, but this was soju made with tiger. Like, the animal. Grrr baby. Purchased in China, it was extremely expensive, highly illegal, and, much to my surprise, tasted like tiger. Again, this is one of those ineffable things. Trying to explain it would somehow make the experience less ferocious, and we wouldn’t want to do that.

The true highlight of the party though, was seeing my Korean family. My Korean Dad was so happy to see me come, he made me this:



It’s an old Chinese proverb. The take-home message is this:

“He who speaks little causes few problems.”

So, while I love all you cats out there reading my blog, I’m going to take that Chinese advice, and say no more for today.

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