Tuesday 22 February 2011

Back To England.

That's right I am back in England for one week. As such you will not being gaining any deep insight into the subtle nuances of Korean culture from this entry and you will instead have to make do with a riveting account of how I got home.

I'm guessing you think I flew home. You'd be right, so well guessed. I leapt on a bus from Daegu to Seoul first and spent a delightful 5 hours watching Korean comedy shows on the coach television. Korean comedy is a joke. It is also the same joke over and over again and the down side is, that the joke wasn't funny the first time.

Think less satire and more "Knock knock, who's there?" The answer to which is "A Korean actor with a terrible joke".

You might think I am being a sneering, condescending bigot, and once again you would be right. But I could turn even the most culturally sensitive of you into an arrogant, patronising scum bag if I could only get you alone for 5 hours with a television and a DVD of Korean comedy.

I arrived at Incheon airport unable to laugh anymore. I have not laughed since and it was three days ago. This morning I regained the ability to smile but my recovery is going to be a long and arduous journey.

I needed a drink. Not a problem I hear you say, afterall you are in a huge international airport. Well this time your assumption would be wrong. Seoul's, Incheon airport is a disgrace to all aviation. It has two bars in the entire, vast expanse of glass and marble. One of those was nothing more than a Guiness stand that sold pints of Guiness for £11 each or to my American friends about $150 give or take a penny.

The other "sports bar" was closed by 9pm. How? How is this possible? There was a however a prayer room open. Great. So you have catered for those who wish to go and have some spiritual fulfillment, but you cannot even provide my kind with one open venue to have a spirit with a mixer fulfillment?

I was livid. Perhaps a strongly worded letter would show them that this discrimination against British people was simply not acceptable in 2011. I had two hours to fill and the only entertainment available was praying to a deity I don't believe in or watching Korean workers close down their shops for the night at a stupidly early time.

I decided to write my letter and went to an internet point that was remarkably still open. But when I went to use the computer, guess what? The instructions were in Korean. The nerve of these people never ceases to amaze me. I slammed my crisp British passport against the counter in fury and looked around for someone to remonstrate with.

I don't mind you people using that ridiculous language in your own time, but if you are not going to provide alcohol for less than the price it costs to vaccinate an entire third world village against river blindness then you better at least have your computers set to English so people can construct outraged letters of complaint.

Instead I sulked for two hours and then made my way on board the plane.

I was travelling home to be the best man at a wedding. I believe this title to be quite literal when I have been given the role and I decided to use my 16 hours of flight time to work on some outstanding jokes. The Emirates flight crew kept me well fed with the following meals...

Scrambled Eggs and some excuse for a sausage.
Chinese Chicken and noodles.
Omlette with potatoes.
Chicken and Egg sandwich.

Those were the four meals I ate. Did Mr Emirate get some special buy one get one free deal on Chickens and their eggs? I like eggs and I like chicken. In fact in Korea I normally eat both quite regularly. Perhaps too regularly. But even by my chicken and egg dominated standards, that selection of meals seemed very egg heavy with a pretty large nod to Chicken too.

I had a few beers, but eyed the first one with suspicion. Just to make sure the air hostess had not slipped in a hot wing or a hard boiled egg when I wasn't looking. I also watched the film 127 hours about a man who falls down a ravine, gets his arm trapped by a boulder and then cuts his own arm off with a pen knife after spending 127 hours (coincidentally) drinking his own urine and crying.

I liked it a lot and if it hadn't been for my harrowing, humour sapping bus journey, I have no doubt I would have been roaring with laughter.

Eventually the plane began its descent to Manchester, England. My home. And it was during our descent that the captain dropped a proverbial bombshell about the weather in our destination, news so unexpected that I could barely believe it to be true...

"Ladies and Gentlemen we are making our descent to Manchester, where the local time is 12.30pm. The weather is 4 degrees celcius, overcast and cloudy with light rain."

Yeah right, I'm not falling for that one.

So here I am. A week with no teaching, no Soju and no old people looking at me as if I am a 19th Century Circus Sideshow attraction. It feels surreal and yet a welcome respite. I will fly back on Saturday to arrive in Seoul on my birthday. Little Spoon, Rude Boy Yatesy and Chocolate Orange are all running a half marathon that day, and will be there to offer me a sweaty greeting upon my return.

I'm enjoying the home cooked meals and fully flavoured beer, but part of me is excited about the flight on Saturday. Chicken and Eggs with a small side of Eggs and Chicken please.

Saturday 5 February 2011

Seolnal: Happy New Year...Again!

Yes I have had two New Year celebrations. I believe most of you reading this had a pathetic one. One New Year celebration? That is so last year. I'm more of a two New Years type of man and Korea has given me the opportunity to be who I always knew I was deep down.

The reason for this is something to do with the Moon. I would give a more indepth and informative explanation but that would have required me to be culturally sensitive and actually learnt a bit about what I was celebrating. So you will have to rely on Wikipedia.

I believe it happens at pretty much the same time as Chinese New Year, which is somewhat of a shame, as I could have had the option of making this a year of three New Years. Something that would surely have been ground breaking?

Of course there is one let down to all this New Year shenanigans and that is that I hate New Year. Sure, I go out and "celebrate" with friends, but really I despise it. Another year closes and I look back at the twelve months I've wasted and then buy another drink at a bar that is crowded with grinning baffoons wanting to shake my hand when they don't know me at all, and if they did, they would think twice about shaking my hand.

But it was time off work and an excuse to once more travel to nearby Busan with Little Spoon an affable chap you shall know as Mason and the British couple previously known as Josh and Nat. As with all of my friends, they demanded an idiotic nickname and as such I would like to introduce you to Chess Champ and Chocolate Orange.

Nat is known as Chess Champ, because whilst at school Josh and his friends heard a rumour that she was Russian and a genius at Chess. Both rumours proved to be false, or so she says.

Similarly a young fool at Josh's school misheard his surname as Terry and called him Terrys Chocolate Orange after the fantastic chocolate gift that I would buy both of my parents every year for Christmas until I was about 15.

So we cut a merry quintet as we headed out full of Moon induced New Year vibes and the rather familiar delights on offer in Busan. I like Daegu, but Busan has several things that Daegu does not.

Firstly it has numerous beaches.

This makes it very popular with a lot of people. I'm not one of those people as I hate the beach. Sand annoys me and I don't really like water that has salt in it. Secondly it has an Irish Pub that I would not normally give the time of day back home but is quite welcome for a change out here. But I feel I should go back to my dislike of salt water for a moment...

I have pondered over my issues with salt water and believe I have traced the origins back to when I was four years old and being a culinary radical pushed the boat out into uncertain waters by eating a toadstool. My mother and my aunt were clearly a bit squeemish about "exotic foods" and rather than admire my worldly attitude, tried to make me throw up the offending funghi.

So what did they do? Made me drink a pint of salt water. But to a man of my iron fortitude, even at only 4 years of age, this brine like solution simply helped wash down what had been a hearty meal. So eventually a spoon was stuck down my gullet and I was indeed violently sick.

I only began eating mushrooms around two years ago and still frown at the sea when I see it.

However I do like Busan. I like sitting in a cocktail bar just in sight of the beach, where I can pretend I love the beach and that I am not sat there simply to indulge a slight drinking problem.

Mason had never been to Busan before and I didn't want him to stumble off on his own and end up finding all the wrong things like the museum, the aquarium or the old China town area.
So I'm sure he was glad to have me as a tour guide. Off to the classy "Fuzzy Navel" bar. Chess Champ and Choc Orange are fellow fans of Busan and Little Spoon is a fan of most things provided you suggest them in an excited tone of voice.

Unsurprisingly it turned into a good night, and a better night than my regular New Year too. Perhaps I need to think about bringing this "Seolnal" celebration back with me to British shores.

As the night wore on, Chess Champ and Choc Orange challenged Little Spoon and I to a game of Beer Pong. For the uninitiated this involves facing each other across a table with 10 holes cut into it on each side. Cups of beer are then placed in the holes and you throw a ping pong ball at your opponents cups; if it lands in the cup, they must drink that beer.

The winner is the one who removes all their opponents cups first. Simple. Simple and easy. We lost. Again. In fact whenever I play this game, I seem to lose despite having exceptional hand eye coordination and a competitive spirit to rival the greatest of sportsmen.

We sat and discussed the epic match and an interesting conversation ensued...

Me: "So Chess Champ, I have to say you were pretty good at beer pong, were those your chess tactics coming into play?"

Chess Champ laughed, because I'm a naturally witty man and my chess quip was both timely and relevant.

Chess Champ: "No, I never even played Chess, but yeah I'm pretty good at beer pong, I always do well at it."

Little Spoon:
"It's hand eye coordination, are you good at driving?"

Chess Champ: "No not really, I had a few lessons but..."

At this point, Chess Champs loving partner raised his head from the pint of Guiness he was gulping down and made an incomprehensible word/sound to interject into the conversation and then offered his darling a touching tribute...

Choc Orange:
"Oh No. No she can't drive mate, no awful at driving. But yeah you're right she can play beer pong. She's really good at beer pong, but she's ABSOLUTELY SHIT at everything else. Everything."

I look at Chess Champ and she is frowning...

Chess Champ: "Well I'm not bad at darts. I mean I'd never played it really, but when we've played it here I'm not bad."

Choc Orange mulls this over for a moment and then begins to nod. He's a very fair man and is always happy to admit if he might have made a mistake.

Choc Orange:
"Yeah to be fair babe that's true, you're alright at darts."

He looks over to Little Spoon and I and concedes he made an error...

"Yeah she's right, she is okay at darts, so yeah she is pretty good at beer pong and darts but she is ABSOLUTELY SHIT at everything else. Everything...just shit, really bad."

Chess Champ nods in agreement and we order some more drinks. The worrying thing for me is that I am absolutely shit at beer pong and darts too, and there were never even the smallest rumours that I was a genius at chess or anything else for that matter. It is a good job that I'm not trying to woo my friend Choc Orange or I would be doomed to fail before I had even begun.

It was thus with a heavy heart that I returned to work on Friday after two days of merriment and beach gazing. But as I asked my students if they had enjoyed their new year and was met with a cacophony of negative feedback I began to feel that I had been almost blessed with my experience of Seolnal.

I did however find one student who had a good time, my old friend Rocky from one of my "middle school" classes. Although what Rocky considers a good time is perhaps a little different to most people.

Me: "So Rocky did you have a good New Year?"

Rocky: "Yes teacher, good. Went to see the body go to ground."

Me:
"You went to see what?"

Rocky:
"Erm...the body, dead body. Put to the ground."

Me: "You went to a funeral? Somebody died and you saw their body buried in the ground yes?"

His pockmarked face lit up and he nodded "Yes teacher this"

I didn't know what to say really, but I'm glad that he enjoyed spending his New Year at a funeral, may all his future holidays be blessed with death and the chance to view the disposal of the deceased's mortal form.