So, I've been a bit of a lazy kid lately.

To be honest, I have barely left my home the last few days unless absolutely forced(i.e. work). I had yesterday off because the school had exams. If you don't know much about the Korean education system, then you're just ignorant to the source of modern Korean society.

Brief History: In the 1950s America pushes invading troops back past Seoul and decide to establish the 38th parallel, in effect creating North(1984esque state) and South Korea(Brazilesque state). The South was to become a democracy and join the international market, however, after being destroyed and not yet having industrialized thanks to Japanese occupation in the early part of the century, they decide to market themselves. Korean values immediately focused on Education.

The overwhelming pride and importance Koreans placed on Education is still around today, maybe stronger than ever. Koreans go to school from about 7am to 5pm, then most go to a private tutor until 10 or 11pm, and THEN some of them even study more after that. Did I mention that these kids are 14-18 years old? It's sick.

Anyway, what this boils down to is that I slept in until about 11am, woke up and ate breakfast, watched some A-Team, then went back to bed until 2pm. My mom ordered me food, and then I watched a Steven Segal film while correcting my kids homework(which I forgot to hand back today I just realized). Then I went for a walk and said, "hmm looks like rain", and quickly walked back inside. I moaned about my computer and then tried to wipe it all clean, but couldn't even get that to work properly. So then, I just read my book, and went to sleep early.

Yup, I'm a real waste of Tax-dollars, and I just thought you all should know about it... especially those of you with really hard and time-consuming jobs.

Does it ever feel like your life is beginning to mimic famous books?

I'm pretty sure my life is starting to resemble The Sun Also Rises, but you know, happier and more optimistic, and maybe no bullfights or aimless drunks, or struggling romance(yet). And we live on a beautiful island where the people are much nicer to you than Spaniards, also I guess none of us Fulbrighters really fought in the recent war, and well... I guess there's nothing similar about the situations at all, dammit. What a bust this post is becoming...

But I truly despise the fact that Korean TV shows excessively use the 'instant replay'. Can I get an amen from my Korean crew?

A weekend of trouble if I've ever seen one.

I got pretty sad on friday when my co-teacher's declined my invitation to continue to the next round, thank god I have friends in this town to keep me company. The lightning that night scared me so bad too. I had never heard such close strikes before, but they happen almost every night; I am still perplexed by my friend kate who sleeps through it all and asks me to call her and wake her up: "If lightning striking the roof of your house doesn't wake you up, then your cell phone that plays 'Mr. Bojangles' won't get you out of bed either."

So some of the lovely women from Jeju-si came down and we felt obliged to show them a good time in the little town of Seogwipo. We found this fantatstic beach with a waterfall that falls straight into the water(almost). I get down the stairs and this women immediately asks me, "how did you hear about this place?" She asked it in a manner that made me think she was telling us to leave. But her follow-up made it slightly better: "It's just that only koreans know about this place." I can see why, Rafiq had to lead us down a bumkin road with a restaurant at the end. We walked through the restaurant and next the bathrooms was a small pathway that led down to the cove where "agima"s (old women) were massaging themselves in the waterfall and cooling their watermelons in the pools below. It was awesome, we put these plastic bags over our heads and went into the pounding streams, korean style of course, fully clothed.

The rest of the day needs not be discussed. It was fine and dandy, with many references to Lauryn being a Russian prostitute, and speaker systems to play a constant soundtrack to the adventures, thank you toby for Bonobo.

Oh, but I did finally find avocados... almost $3.50 a pop, maybe more if you count the currency conversion. If you can send some that get past customs, I'll give you my soul in exchange.

Ahh, and it's always funny to say goodbye to people who need to yak before they get on the bus back home... America sends the best of the best as Cultural Ambassadors. That's not fair, our intent from the get-go that night was to assimilate into Korean culture. They just have faster metabolisms.

Quick run down on the day... it was the first day teaching and was slightly overwhelming in the best day possible.

6:30am - wake up call (I smell pork!)
7:25am - bags are packed, I'm ready to go, my bike is waiting outside my door.
7:45am - I am greeted in the parking lot by 2 rows of 30 or so highschool girls in their Orwellean type uniforms saying "annyong hashimnikka!!!"
7:45:01am - I almost stuff my grill with concrete from fear of these girls.
7:50am - I arrive in my office and attempt to stop sweating before I change into my nice clothes.
8:20am - I almost trap myself in my private bathroom because I get stuck in my shirt. Sweat is the culprit.
8:45am - I give a speech in Korean introducing myself to all the other teachers. There is no need for the microphone, the room is the size of a normal living room.
9:10am - My co-teacher informs me that my '9:10' class is cancelled(after having been changed once before this morning)
10:00am - I am being spied on by 14 year olds, and I'm still sweating.
1:00pm - I finish my classes, all go smoothly, so I decide to blast my music on the "ghost" fourth floor.

2:30pm - I check out for the day and head to the beach for personal investigation.
2:35pm - I am invited to a picnic with underwear clad men. They feed me sashimi and soju. I impress them by proving that white boys can eat peppers too(in fact, I'm eating the peppers to take my mind off the live fish they are cutting up in front of me, damn you Uncle Louie!)
3:55pm - I stagger back to my bike for a drunken ride home in the sticky heat.
4:55pm - A cold shower and massive water consumption proves futile against the Soju... I have a 10 minute bus ride to sober-up before I meet my co-teacher for a retirement party for my Principal.
5:15pm - It dawns on me that we're going to get drunk to celebrate anyway. Just embrace Korean culture.
8:30pm - I find myself back in my host-parents living room practicing Korean with my dad. He teaches my the slang for penis, but dodges my inquiry into balls. Too vulgar?
9:30pm - reflections on my first day of school.

To appease my mother:

So it's about time I give a hand to Fulbright. Those crazy bureaucrats did some fine work. The Korea program is probably the best around. They seriously take such good care of us, it's insane. To think about the fact that they spend 10,000 dollars on each of us just for training is absurd. Korea flew us over here, paid for us to learn Korean for 6 weeks from one of the most prestigious universities in Korea, paid for our room and board, took us on awesome adventures, and to top it off, they decided to pay us each week for just being fulbrighters.

Now, it's time for another Top 5 (a la High Fidelity):

Top Five Moments in Seogwipo Introductions:

1) I was trying to buy a bike and I asked if I could ride it to make sure I wanted it. This normal question was answered with enormous laughter. Confused, I asked my translater what exactly he was saying besides, "no". According to the man, I was so naive because if I ride it around he cannot sell it as "new" anymore, not out of principle, but because customers will see the dirt on the tires and not buy it. I told her to tell him he must be crazy, but the man obviously was ignorant of his awful salesmanship, because he then assumed that I was going to buy it. I told him, "I won't buy it, unless I can ride it". That was answered with, "if you buy it, then you can ride it". I walked out.

2) I went to the local waterfall near my house, which of course is commercialized and costs 2 bucks to get in, unless you're wicked like me and use your Fulbright ID card to pretend like you're in the military and get a 50% discount(I'm so cheap).
Anyway, I was a little disappointed with the fact that swimming is prohibited, but I understood when they said that it was a protected wildlife area... for the flesh-eating eels that inhabit the waters.

3) What do you like for breakfast? I was asked this by my homestay mom the day I arrived. My response, "I don't know, uh, eggs, toast, bacon... really whatever you want to make I suppose, just not rice please(since I would certainly get it for lunch and dinner)". What do I get the second day? Pasty-like rice, almost like a bad risotto, and in it is mixed raw mushrooms, and abalone. Mmmm. But breakfast since has been delicious.

4) So one night, I decide to check out the bar that my host-parents own downstairs. I figure, it's a sunday, I don't speak korean, I'll probably just get a beer and read my book in one of the booths. Oh, but the second I walk in, there is my host dad, who has been missing for 2 days, and 5 other koreans. I get called over to join them and they start drinking like fish. So I did the only culturally appropriate thing and joined in the fun. At some point in my drunken mind-wanderings, which happens a lot when you can't understand anything around you, I had a vision of this bar. See the place was completely empty(and always is), except for the owners and their friends. In addition to this, I still hadn't figured out what my host dad did for a living. So I was pretty convinced that his "owning a business" meant he was using the bar as a hangout for his gangster friends. My vision was simple: "Fulbrighter sent to Korea to teach English is found dead by a barrage of Russian-Mafia linked bullets.

5) I had to attend the teacher's meeting this morning to introduce myself to the teachers and staff. The Cayman Island Druglord-esque Principal grabs an uneccessary microphone and begins saying exactly what I had planned to say in Korean. I'm thinking to myself, "god dammit, here I've gone and memorized a little speech about myself and the principal is giving away all the goods before I get a chance to speak". Then he hands me the mic and I repeat everything ending with a statement that wins me great applause. The entire time, I'm trying to keep from laughing because the vice-principal is reaching for the mic like a little boy who wants what his older brother(the principal) has. Shit. That was an "I guess you had to be there story".

Alright, I'll tell myself that this will be a quick ditty, but once I get going...

So I have three computers in my life right now, none of them are in any condition to allow someone so close to the edge to use. The only reason I'm writing is for my own sanity, that and the fact that it took me twenty minutes to log on. Around minute 10 I decided I would not fail to write, period.

So let's get to the good stuff. I'm gonna break down my family:

Dad(mun-seong)-
50 year old self proclaimed "business man". Not exactly sure what that means, but downstairs in the restuarant last night I got this strange feeling that my host father has the type of enemies that might come through the door shooting. The bar seems like a front for the "business" and the man mysteriously disappeared all weekend, only to be found by me in the bar.

Mom(Hwe-Jah) -
49 year old house-wife(chu-bu). She told me when I tried to do the dishes that "In Korea, women do work. You sit!" The language barrier is too thick to even try to explain the can of worms she opened. I just did what I do best... nodded and smiled. When I do try and speak with her in Korean, she just stares blankly. I think she is just not listening to me, but I might be in denial of my horrible accent.

Daughters(Suk-hyeon, Suk-geon) -
I can't tell them apart except by the fact that one is always at school in Jeju-si. Both are my translators, but for some reason they don't know the difference between a question and a statement. Also, why do they know the words 'foment' and 'poultice' but not simple verbs like 'ride' and 'help'?

Son(De-geon) -
This kid is so awkwardly shy that I just want to shake him. He's thirteen years old and can't look anybody in the eye. The only things that stops me is reminding myself that I was like him once. Jesus, I must have been so pathetic and sorry.


I got a bike yesterday and also a cell phone. Incoming calls are free to me, but I'm sure they rip you guys a new one. Anyway, if you want to risk the bill, my number is 010 2207 3030. I forget the country code, but you can figure it out faster than my stone tablet here can. The bike is sweet, a bit ofa junker deal, but it'll serve my traveling purposes nicely. Now if I can just figure out where to shower at an all girls high school after riding there in the mornings... the trick is to not get fired for indecency. Oh, and kiwi vine in the parking lot of school. I'm the only one tall enough to enjoy the sweet-sweet...

This is killing me, or rather my repressed type A, by blogging out of chronological order, but I need to wait for some pictures for the last one I wrote in draft form. Hint: 62 Mandu

Here's the lowdown on my situation. 2 days ago I went to the DMZ, stepped a little inside North Korea, kept my mouth shut when told to, put my camera down when asked, and kept my hands to myself.


There was a laundry list of rules, some ridiculous, but all for a reason. We had to walk single file to the border and not take any pictures. There was absolutely no pointing, as pointing can confuse North Korea into thinking that you're firing a weapon. I think it's a little strange that they would fire back before even hearing shots ring out, but I guess NK is so far behind that they don't even have sound waves yet... bad joke in all respects.

Anyway, so after the DMZ we had a little trip to the Ambassador's house where we went swimming and had a BBQ. No. 1 couldn't be there so he sent no. 2 and 8 from the Embassy. We did a little Hob-Nobbin, as Lauryn likes to call it, and I pretty much decided that I'd never make it in politics because I'm awkward at the initial hello, but I don't take "no" for an answer so maybe it evens out?



The next day was "Yonsei Day" and we met our Co-Teachers and Principals from the schools. Very awkward, and the formality of the whole day didn't help either. So my co-teacher for Seogwipo Girls High School is a woman of about 30 and has been driving me around all day to see things and run errands. I got a little acquainted with my office today, the computer is broken and they were scrubbing mold off the ceiling, but I have a HUGE office, bigger than my Dad's (HA!!) and have my own private bathroom which I get to keep under lock and key. The two classrooms I teach in have ocean views which only I face, and when I get done with school around 1 or 2, I can make my way to the beach about a 1/4 mile down the road.

Now to the homestay. If I could speak twice as much Korean as I do now, I might be able to communicate one thing to them. But no, I find myself telling them, "it's good" and "hot" all day long. A slight exaggeration yes, but seriously, I might be learning a lot of Korean while I'm here, which is a very good thing for me. There are three kids in the family. A 12 year old boy, 14 year old girl, and 17 year old girl. The mom runs a restaurant downstairs, but for some reason took me out to eat at the one across the street last night. I think the Korean ideals of capitalism are slightly different from ours. The dad, hmmm, I don't know what he does. He's a "business man" and already wants to take me to a bathhouse already, but we cannot communicate with each other at all. I think he just wants to see my penis.

Now I've done a my fair share of stupid things before, but I think I just smoked my competitors in the race for an early death akin to Mama Cass.




So there are these little snacks called Mandu. They are about the size of golf balls and are filled with either meat or kimchi. Our favorite place sells them 8 for a buck. It's a sweet deal, but the other day my friend Jon noticed a picture on the wall. It was 4 guys with 30 trays of Mandu. He took that picture as a challenge and proceeded to make the allstar team of eaters in Chuncheon.

The four of us(Jon, Jonah, Steve and myself), made this whole ordeal of the thing saying that we would break the record, which if you haven't figured out the math is 240 Mandu balls between us, or 60 each. Our goal was to beat them by a tray, another 2 each. Well, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, but we did it. We won. I don't know what we won, the guy still took our money at the end of the night, but I guess I have bragging rights? That really sucks. I've got a pain in my stomach like I might give birth to an alien.



The best part of the whole challenge was that half way through he was speaking to one of our friends in Korean and we asked what he said, she said, "oh, he just said it was funny that we had so many people watching because the last group didn't have spectators". Well, she lied to us. What he was really telling her was that when those guys came, they came with a group of people who all contributed to the massive amount on the table. So really, there was no challenge. We made our own challenge and beat ourselves. Now it makes sense as to why he hesitated to bring us more and more Mandu. He was legitimately worried about our health... I think he's right. I'm gonna stay up all night to make sure my stomach doesn't crush my lung while I sleep.

So I'm minding my business as usual, in this instance, I happen to be filling out an online survey about my orientation here in the lovely Chuncheon. Out of nowhere, Susie(a character all on her own), asks me if I want to be in 'a couple pictures'. Mama Suz, as I'm fond of calling her, truly has no idea what we're getting into, and since I'm one to follow the mysterious adventure, I throw some shoes on and head for the door with my water bottle(it really should be attached to my hip).

We meet this guy Mac outside who takes a couple pictures in the style which may be known to all as the 'liberal arts publicity photo'. You know what I mean. We had the two white people, the Pakistani, the Chinese girl, and of course our Koreans that need to show their international acceptance... it's very similar to a pack of M'n'Ms.

Well, turns out that Mac wasn't satisfied so he put us in a car(I obviously took to heart the advice of never getting in a car with strangers, huh?) and he drove us to the other side of campus to the 'Global Dorm'. It also turns out that Mac wasn't even the photographer, which makes me wonder why he took our goddam pictures to begin with?!?! But we sit around the lounge for a while watching Cliffhanger because the photographer was running late and hadn't arrived yet. After about 45 minutes, the crew shows up, and it is a full on film crew. To cut to the chase, we all starred in an International promotional video for studying abroad in Korea.

Yeah, it was weird, but quite funny. The guy Mac though, felt bad for us waiting so long so he invited us out to dinner. We accepted because, well, we lead very boring lives usually. And so began my night with Mac.

We get to the restaurant, and our food is on the table hot and ready to eat. But Mac, needs his Soju first. So he orders a number of bottles for our table. I say 'a number' because I really have no idea how many he bought in the end. My guess is that he paid more for alcohol than food.

This blog is getting long and it's 3am now, so let me sum it up quick like. Mac told me to my face that he was going to kill me with Soju, then his friend arrived who was his DD for the night, but somehow DD doesn't translate into Korean, because his buddy was guzzling Soju like a marathon runner does water. The DD bit my friend's nose later, taught us the phrase for 'it kills me', which according to Mac is the equivalent of the versatile F-bomb in english. And by the end of 20 or so shots of Soju, Mac had dubbed me as 'the man' as well as told me the severe consequences for narcotics possession in Korea. Our party moved to a bar later and Mac continued to teach us about Korean (drinking) culture... a.k.a. group alcoholism. Before Mac left us at the bar for his two hour journey to the southern end of the province with his drunk designated driver, he told us to call him the next day so that we 'can get prostitution'. I told him we'd call him, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that I pursue a particular type of woman, you know, the ones that are in it for more than just money... call me a dreamer if you will!

Anyway, I love Koreans, and I love being younger than the ones I meet, because again, I paid nothing, and almost insulted people by offering to pay more than once.

As our program comes to a close here in Chunceon, we have time to reflect on all that we've done, aka our language teachers give us a 4 hour final exam, all in Korean. Now, I know that this should be expected when taking a class of any kind, but I was almost certain that piece of paper Pitzer College gave me was a ticket to Finals Freedom unless willfully chosen by me and only me to enter into more schooling. But I guess I have to take a Korean Final before I give one.

The picture to the right is how we took part of the test. The class all sat outside while we had 10 minute interviews with the teacher. This was the hardest part. I found the reading and writing portion to be a breeze, and when I expressed this my teacher told me to stop laughing. I've never seriously been told to stop laughing. I was dumbfounded.

So I think I'm gonna go out tonight and get some "sam gyup sal" which is basically thick pieces of bacon fried up at your table. So all of you out there who know my eating habits, I bid you adieu, because quite frankly, this stuff is like crack.

This photo is a sign for one of my favorite places. They're all the same really, the signs I mean. Everywhere you go, you can find a cartoon animal of what you're about to eat. This one is unusual though. Normally they portray the pork as a happy-go-lucky Porky The Pig, who is unaware of the fact that any place willing to let a pig wallow has a motive worthy of a Law and Order episode.

After an afternoon of rafting, we went to Seoul and walked around the underground mall, which is huge and houses a kimchi museum, and aquarium, and the largest theater in Seoul, possibly Korea.

We were walked around by Cristina's cousin, who will prove to be the nicest person in Korea, and after window shopping for a couple hours we met up with the rest of her family for a feast. We went to this gigantic international buffet which must have been outrageously expensive, but SOOO GOOOD!!

You know you've grown accustomed to the food though, when you have a buffet from around the world, and you head straight for the kimchi. Before we ate though The Uncle(as we all call him) gave us this speech about how lucky we are, how Koreans are so nice and open to foreigners interested in their culture, how we should listen to our parents and specifically told me I had eyes that revealed kindness and trustworthiness like Abe Lincoln. I was extremely flattered and told him my dilemma of wanting to do what my mom tells me by coming home, but Koreans like him are so accommodating and welcoming that I might want to stay here. He told me I had a hard choice to make, but invited me back to Seoul when she comes to visit.

He then gave us his business card and told us to call him for anything... did I mention this guy is a councilman in Seoul? The guy just kept doting compliments and gifts upon us, and when we left dinner, he had given his son and daughter lots of cash and told us to do whatever we wanted. So we went to a jjimjilbang(bathhouse) and put our stuff down before a full night and dawn of clubbing.

The area we went to was packed with servicemen and their girlfriends, it was pretty disgusting. I had no idea how disgraceful they would make me feel for being the US. They were loud, obnoxious, tasteles, and rude to Koreans. But we found a place not to popular with that crowd and had a grand ol' time.

We were told by a co-teacher from one of the schools we send Fulbrighters to, that there are typically three rounds in the drinking culture here. He told us never to go to the third round, but we had no idea what that meant... til Saturday.
After the club, which was considered the first round, the girls went home and the boys had a second and third go round. We went out for more drinks and some food(typically you eat at bars too, some won't let you order drinks without food).
By the time we were done with that it was 4:30am. Then we went back to the jjimjilbang for the third round and baths. Basically, the third round is defined by not sleeping at all before going to work the next day. It's pretty common among businessmen who are trying to impress each other.

But the entire weekend I tried to pay for things... and couldn't. The family felt obligated to take us out and do everything for us. I don't know why, but it's just Korean I suppose. If someone says they will pay for the night, they seriously will pay for EVERYTHING. He even paid for me to get a scrub at the jjimjilbang, which leads me to my conclusion.

I had a very Korean experience. I had a man scrub me down completely naked. Let me just say that only a few special women and my doctor have touched me in the same way this strange man did. But I have a "new skin" everywhere, literally... yes, even there.


The Morning After

Let me first start by initiating a turf war...

Hey Turzo! Your blog sucks and you smell like old buckets of kimchi. My Asian blog is the only Asian blog there is; the internet ain't big enough for the two of us.

Anyway, I took a trip to Seoul this weekend. It was unbelievable. I went with one of the girls on our program to meet her family and have them impress all of her friends. Seriously, she told us that her uncle wanted to do something grand for her, specifically saying that he "would make her the most popular girl". It worked for me, shit. He paid for a minibus to pick us up in Chuncheon at 8am, which arrived with all her family except the uncle, because he had some unexpected work. The bus ride was bumpy and winding. My hangover proved to be a battle instead of a hydrate-and-go kind of day. We finally got to our fun activity he had planned which was rafting. The river was tame, but the sights were ridiculous. I felt like an early explorer, except there were dozens of other rafts on the same river, but if you looked up at the cliffs and waterfalls all around us, it was breathtaking. The rapids were slow, but somehow one of the fatter older men fell out and a girl, Cristina's cousin, fell out as well. All too hilarious, but having it translated I'm sure takes out some of the humor.

The guide asked me his age, I said I thought he was 28 and that's when I was forced out of the raft. I had to tag along in the water for a while. Turns out you can be off by only 4 years and offend people like you used a racial slur. He thought I was 29, that Asshole. Then after that he set me up for a trick by having the cousin do the Titanic thing hangin off the front. So I was supposed to hold onto her lifejacket and keep her from falling, but of course he just swings the boat and makes me lose my balance, letting the prissy 15 year old fall into the water while her entire family is yelling at me in Korean. I was forced to leave the raft again.

Then he had us switch things up for a while and I rode in the back with him. We got to this long calm spot and I decided to pull my legs up out of te straps and rest crosslegged style. I was told at the beginning to always keep your legs in the straps. I was forced out of the boat again, rather abruptly.

The day was fabulous and when we were done in the afternoon, we were driven to Seoul to have dinner with the fam and shown a good time by the cousins...

I never thought that I would miss the monsoon season so much, but I guess that's because I had no idea that it'd be pushing 95 on the mercury, with enough humidity to make my books into scrolls. It's so hot in fact, that the moment I step outside, I start sweating. It's basically like Claremont in the summer, only ungodly humid as well. Our classrooms are air conditioned, but there are a few outspoken people who claim that the air conditioner is too cold and get up to turn it off, even when the rest of the class is in favor of not suffering from heat exhaustion throughout our 4 hour class. I think it's time we vote them off the island(penninsula, I guess).

The heat became so unbearable for me today that I decided to lop off my hair. So, yes, the Norm, Kramer, or whatever you want to call it, look that's been missing in my life is back. I'd share pictures, but it's too hot to look for my camera. Apparently, my Orientation Coordinators were already talking amongst themselves as to how they would force me to cut my hair. There is a "fitting in" workshop next week and they planned on bringing a pair of clippers to do it then and there if I didn't comply beforehand. Now they just need to work they're magic with a razor for the kid Jonah from Minnesota... his mustache is AWESOME!

The barber was hilarious. I showed her a picture to guide her, but apparently all she saw was a fashionable mod style similar to Lil Pat's, but curly. I had my translator express my concern and she thought that my hair wouldn't look anything like the picture I brought, but neither of her other compromises worked for me either. Finally she got something decent, but it's still damn short, which works for me in this climate. But the greatest part of the shop was the old lady and obese man that were in there to escape from the heat. The old lady told me that my new hair made me look handsome and like a movie star. She said that when I came in, I had scared her and she thought I was mean and threatening. The old man kept rambling about Texas accents and Japan, but since I couldn't understand I just kept staring at his boob sweat stains. The old lady also made comments about Jonah's eyes, eyebrows, and eyelashes. She claimed all three were very beautiful and told our translator Susie that she was lucky to be with such a handsome boy like Jonah.

I love old Korean ladies.

Ah, yes, Dana and I waiting for the godlike Mrs. Shim to sit down and eat so we may. That's another custom I love. The most senior person is the one that everyone waits for when doing anything at dinner. So sometimes when you're looking at a spread like the one in front of us in this picture, you get a little ancy in your pantsy for the most respected person to start eating.

Speaking of spreads, I got really excited at dinner tonight when I saw something that resembled sweet and sour pork. It turned out it was chicken and that also suited my fancy, but then I heard the worst possible sound of all, the sound of bones crunching in my teeth. Those fuckers basically deep-fried chicken bones. Apparently it's a well-known dish in Korea, and the bones are supposed to make it taste better. But that doesn't fool me. Oh no, no no, I see right through that bullhonkey. This reasoning is coming from a country whose cuisine used to primarily consist of rice and cabbage which is one reason why food is eaten quickly here and why the population as a whole has been pretty short for generations leading up to modernization.
Yes, you may fool your countrymen Korea, but you do not fool me! I'm keen to the ways of your food propaganda and I say, "do not soil my taste buds with your boney-fried distopian cuisines. I demand satisfaction!" Now some of you might bring up the point that buffalo wings are the same concept, but you're wrong. I know where the bone is in a buffalo wing. In each piece of fried meat I had tonight, it consisted of a different set of bones, and often there were just splinters of chicken bones in the batter itself.

Anyhoo, it's still pretty amazing how advice can be universal, but adapted to the culture at hand. I'm told by Koreans that the way to dislodge any bones from your throat(which is common because bones are in almost any soup and often headless fish are served for breakfast) is to eat some kimchi and have a shot of soju. The same advice was told to me in Italy... just have some bread and drink some more wine.

This advice has yet to fail anyone that I've met... but I guess if it failed, I wouldn't meet these people. Hmmm.