Moving to South Korea

I just signed a contract and it's official: I'm moving to South Korea to teach English for a year. What kind of crazy person decides to move to a country without knowing anything about it?! Okay, I am raising my hand sheepishly. I have been so focused on Latin America the last few years for studying, living, and traveling that I have just never learned much about east Asia.


I quickly realized that I better start doing some research. I'll be in the city of Gunsan, also spelled Kunsan, and here's what I've learned so far:

* It's on the coast! West coast too, so I'll get sunsets over the water. There is major fishing in the Yellow Sea and subsequently a lot of seafood in the diet and markets.
* Population is about half a million- large enough that there are things happening, but not so large as to be a crazy concrete jungle
* Lots of urban trails for running and cycling
* The city is supposedly fairly industrial, and a U.S. air force base is located on the outskirts.
* Korea is 70% mountainous and 30% arable land. Kunsan is in the main farming region

About Korea in general:
* One of the few countries that has been one nation with one language since its earliest history
* Korean is in the Ural-Altaic language family and very different from Chinese and Japanese. They originally had no written form of the language, and attempted to use Chinese characters to write Korean, which was extremely difficult and not very functional. Finally in 1446 the king's scholars INVENTED the Korean alphabet, and the shapes of the letters are based on the shape the mouth/tongue makes when forming that particular sound. How cool is that??!
* One of the highest literacy rates in the world
* They are 50% non-religious, 26% Christian, 23% Buddhist, 1% Confucian
* One of the most homogeneous ethnic populations in the world- 99.9% Korean

Well, it's not much, but I guess I will have a year to learn a lot more. I would also like to study Korean and be able to do some basic reading, writing, and speaking. And what better way to get acquainted with a new culture than to eat some of the food? There are quite a few Korean restaurants in Seattle, and my mom and I just checked out one here in the north end called Hosoonyi. We drove past it at first because the sign was in Korean. They have really good soondubu, which is a soft tofu soup that can be made with beef, pork, mushrooms, or seafood. We also tried Mae-Un-Dak, chicken barbeque, and Job-Chae, a veggie and beef dish with potatoe noodles. Apparently a signature part of Korean food is Banchan, which are the many little side dishes that accompany a base meal of rice and soup. Kimchee is the indispensable Banchan, usually fermented or pickled spicy napa cabbage, but can refer to other fermented/pickled veggies as well. Other Banchan may include seasoned bean sprouts, fish cakes, seaweed, marinated vegetables, kelp, dried fish, sweet potato, fried tofu, etc. I did not take this picture, but here is an example of Banchan at a meal.

Wallace Falls

The rainy, grey weather is no reason to stay inside... it is just more reason to find good winter hikes! From Seattle you pretty much have to head down I-90 or Highway 2, and if you are willing to do a little driving, there are some great spots this time of year. Recently I've been going to Wallace Falls near Goldbar. It's before the road starts climbing towards Steven's Pass, and the low elevation means minimal snow for the most part.


It's a cool trail because there are 4 different views of the falls, so you can choose how long to make your hike while getting a view along the way. To the highest lookout point is 2.7 miles, but even past that are several lakes if you wanted to do a longer hike or overnight backpack.

Ringing in 2010

Happy New Year y'all! 2009 held some growth and good times for me, but all in all I'm pretty stoked that it's over. I kicked off the new year's eve festivities at my mom's house with dinner of spare ribs and family game time. I tried to meet a friend on Capitol Hill for a drink, but there was NO parking. So I headed to a house party in the central district, where the fine folks were holding a "hall of shame". People brought remnants of their adolescent expression, such as essays, journal entries, songs, poems, or photos from awkward teenage years to read aloud. It was HILARIOUS. As midnight approached they projected the ball dropping in Times Square... from 1989. I rang in an old new year with a little champagne, but more excitement for getting a solid night's sleep.

Waking up fairly early, I was ready to take the year by the horns. I met Tegan at Greenlake and we ran around it together, then did our own polar bear plunge by jumping off a dock. Here we are afterward, cold but invigorated.

After that my friend Heidi was hosting a brunch, so I went and feasted. With Heidi in a rooster-print apron, she was an amazing hostess serving up waffles, blueberry or chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, eggs, veggie sausage, carrot muffins, homemade biscotti, fruit, coffee, and mimosas. Thanks Heidi! Another friend brought a little figure of a man made out of newspaper to do a Colombian tradition of "el año viejo" or "the old year". This is where you write any old issues, events, patterns, etc. from the previous year on the man, before symbolically burning him. We didn't actually write on it, but the little man got passed around the gathering so people could put any old energy from 2009 that they wanted to discard. Then into the blazing fireplace he went.

I like traditions like this because it's useful to have a physical act to help us let go of things. While I am grateful for every year of my life, there are definitely things from 2009 I want to let go of. I am reminded of Anicha, the impermanent, changing nature of all things. I never wrote about on this blog, but in November I did a 10-day silent Vipassana meditation retreat. It was a hard and amazing experience that I would highly recommend to anyone. The basis of the meditation is Anicha, the awareness that everything that arises shall also pass away. Whether good things we want to grip tighter, or bad things we want to fling away, those circumstances will ultimately change. So I'm just going to believe the New Year is like an informal, nationally-recognized, raucous meditation on change.

Feliz Navidad

It was indeed a Merry Christmas this year thoroughly surrounded by family. The song "Tradition!" from Fiddler on the Roof pops in my head whenever some one asks me what I'm doing for Christmas because, well, it's been the same my whole life. And I like it that way. It's funny... I've been in foreign countries for 4 out of my last 8 birthdays, but I'm reluctant to leave during the holidays.

Christmas Eve we always go to a great aunt's house for a Norwegian-influenced party. There is a delicious food spread with some traditional Norwegian dishes such as lefse, krumkake and rullepolse. Then we sing carols around the Christmas tree while holding hands in two circles. Every year I vow to review song lyrics so that we can sing intelligibly on more than just the choruses, but I suppose part of the charm of our family choral endeavor is its slightly haphazard quality. Just when our throats are getting hoarse, Santa comes! He brings all the kids one gift, which is sort of the gateway for every one else to exchange presents.

Christmas morning is at my mom's with the immediate family, the highlight being of course the little kids, my one-year-old niece and eight-year-old niece. Later we head to another aunt's house for brunch, always waffles, strawberries, whipped cream, bacon, frittata, coffee, and mimosas. There is a freshness and serenity at my aunt's that I can't quite describe, and I like the mellowness of getting together early in the day instead of for dinner. Apart from the waffles, activities are always a little different- maybe a jenga tournament, a basketball game, watching old home-videos, or playing in the snow. This year we drew each other's names from a bowl and took turns saying one nice thing about that person. It was really sweet and brought more intention to the gathering. We head home in the afternoon to finish the mellow day, such a welcome change from the frenetic pace that usually leads up to the holiday.

Eastside Roadtrip- Cold weather! Babies!

Last weekend I caught a ride with my mom, Larry, and bro Joe over to Spokane to visit some family. My brother Isaac lives there but just joined the Marines and is in boot camp, so we stayed with his wife and two kids. The little ones are two and five years old and super sweet. We had fun playing dolls, building lego towers, baking cupcakes, and watching movies. We even braved the 20 degree air and went on a carousel ride.



I also finally had the chance to visit my cousin Ally who just had a baby! She and her husband Chris live in Idaho, just outside Coeur D'Alene. Baby Beckett is already 3 months old, and I'm so happy I got to meet the little guy before he got any bigger. Their family seems to be doing great- Ally is as beautiful and well-adjusted as ever, Beckett is smiley and adorable, and Chris is stoked to be a hands-on dad and still whip up an amazing dinner- chicken breast baked in goat cheese with a basil-balsamic reduction. While the new parents put baby to bed, I enjoyed the lack of such responsibility by soaking in their hot tub, sipping wine as snow was falling around me. There was already a dusted layer on the ground, their first snow of the year.

In the morning I awoke to fresh coffee and pumpkin pancakes. Then Ally and Chris gave me a tour of Coeur D'Alene, including the beautiful but cold view of the lake from the boardwalk, and more coffee at a bustling coffee shop. I had to try the "bowl of soul", a mocha made with Mexican chocolate, copious amounts of cinnamon, and homemade whipped cream, making a convert of even this strict americano drinker.

Panza llena, Corazon contento (Full belly, Happy heart)

In this modern life of being geographically divided between friend groups and different parts of the family, it can sometimes be difficult to decide where to spend holidays. I feel like I have the trifecta perfecta "best of all worlds" by splitting my existence between Seattle, Bellingham, and the islands, but that didn't make deciding what to do on Thanksgiving any easier.

I was already in Glacier earlier in the week and passing through Bellingham before turkey day. I stayed at friends' Katie and Alan's house, and they enthusiastically invited me to stay for the feast! Part inspired by their unique dining room, part not wanting to do anymore driving, part looking to do something unexpected, and part totally adoring Katie and Alan-- all contributed to me deciding to stay.

They have a side building off the house, affectionately called the Shed, that they have been fixing up over the past year. It serves as a rec room/guest room of sorts, and this year was christened dining room as they hosted 15 guests for Thanksgiving. It is still without insulation and drywall, but a wood stove keeps it toasty, and the exposed wood walls add a charming, barn-like feel. When they were re-doing the floor, they pulled up a large piece of old wood that Alan recycled into a giant 9 foot by 5 foot table! So there were 45 square feet of dining surface. Katie made a large evergreen wreath suspended horizontally over the table, with numerous hanging tealight candles dangling from it. The whole space was beautifully rustic and elegant.


Oh, and the food was great too. All the usual delicious autumnal dishes, plus a few less traditional ones as well. Multiple stuffings, cranberry sauces, gravies, and veggies made it hard to try everything before getting totally stuffed. I liked Katie's checkered presentation of the mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes. Dessert held not only pies but apple crisp, local Mallard's ice cream, and port.


As I sat in a full-belly, post-feast daze, I looked around the room contentedly. All across the country, people were doing the same thing, reveling in the comfortable chatter of close ones, feeling warm and nourished. I was missing certain family members and friends, but happy to know that we were all sharing in this similar holiday feel in different places. That's why I like Thanksgiving- it's not over-commercialized, not full of expectations, very simple actually. It's just a seasonal, sincere meal as food is meant to be, shared with conversation and many people contributing. I will remember this year's holiday fondly thanks to Katie and Alan and their open-armed community. And for all this I am truly, truly thankful.

Oh, and in light of the holiday, I thought it would be the perfect time to add a few more blog links to my list, both food-related. One is the Cook Castillo, an brand spankin' new blog about cooking at a restaurant on Orcas Island, and the other is Not Without Salt, a more established one by a pasty chef in Bellingham.

Goodbye Fair Isle

It's official. I'm no longer an Orcas Island resident.

I have had a wonderful last year and a half living there, but I am ready to move on. I have been unemployed recently and am looking forward to finding work in a bigger place. For now that place is Seattle, thanks to the grace of my dear parents who are letting me once again call their house my home. Moving also means the return of everyday conveniences I have been missing- central heating! a refrigerator! internet! electricity! indoor plumbing! public transit!

Aries Hunting Aries

I have just returned from my first real hunting trip. I went last year, but it was more of an introduction to see if it was something I could even handle or want to do. I decided I could handle it, and that this year I endeavored to do everything on my own, from stalking to shooting to gutting to skinning to butchering.

My step-dad Larry and step-bro Brandon kindly had me along on their annual deer and moufflon hunt at our family's property on Stuart Island. BTW, a moufflon is a wild sheep, and you can read more about them here on Wikipedia. They are legal to hunt at any time, and smaller than a deer, so that seemed like the perfect animal to start with as a neophyte huntress.

The first day Brandon and I tracked the moufflon ALL day. They seem to know when it is hunting season, and get more skiddish once they have heard any shots. After a day of tromping up and down hillsides, bushwacking, and climbing over logs in the drizzling rain, all with a gun in hand, I was tired and tired of feeling like I was in boot camp. All day Bjork's song from Homogenic was running through my head, "I'm a hunter... ooh, ooh... I'm going hunting..."

But thus far, it didn't really seem like I was a hunter. After the excitement of the prospect of harvesting my own wild meat, I had a reality check that it was very possible that I wouldn't get a moufflon after all. I got a good night's sleep and woke up optimistic, though it was raining even harder than the day before. Brandon and I set out down the road to again start at the far end of the property and work our way back along the ridge.

After less than a 10 minute walk, we saw a small herd of ewes grazing in an open meadow on the side of the road. My adrenaline began pumping. We had a clear shot, a safe backdrop, and they didn't know we were there yet. "This is my shot," I whispered to my brother. He nodded, and we both kneeled down to take aim. I was shaking but tried to steady myself and my breathing while not making any noise. I hadn't actually shot a gun since target practice when I was a kid, oh, maybe 17 years ago. I picked a dark moufflon at a good angle to me and pulled the trigger.

They all ran up toward the woods. Again the reality hit me that hunting is no easy undertaking, and not only is it sometimes hard to find the animals, but people miss targets all the time. Bran and I went down to the field to check for a possible blood trail and try to track the herd. We walked about 30 feet into the woods and there on the ground was a dark female moufflon. "You got her," Brandon said. "No way, I missed!" I said. He put his hand on her belly and shook his head. "She's still warm." And then he felt the neck and showed me where the bullet entered.

At this moment sets in the strangest mix of feelings, of pride and confusion and horror. This mammal was alive and eating a minute ago, and through some remote action with a firearm she is dead on this cold, grey morning. But that moment passes, and I feel completely able to take responsibility for my action, for doing it with intention, and for embracing the intimacy of interacting with an animal that I will eat. And even beyond that, I feel attentively calm and focused on the next step of cleaning the animal well. I watched the guys field dress last year, but had never done it myself. Brandon walked me through it verbally, from slitting the throat to drain the blood, to slicing open the belly, to pulling out all the organs, to the careful cuts around the pelvis to remove the tail and reproductive parts cleanly. And this is no clean business. The smell is indescribable. The guts are eerily warm and steaming. The blood that doesn't drain from the neck is thick and goopy and must be scooped out of the body cavity. Some organs don't want to come out easily and must be yanked.

By the time I got her back to the cabin, I was totally drenched. I changed clothes and drank some hot chocolate before heading back out to find Larry. Brandon wanted to continue hunting on his own, so Larry would help me hang the moufflon and skin. I actually am pretty experienced with skinning, but it's nice to have an extra set of eyes. He also helped me spread open the chest to get more air circulation in there and cool the meat faster. Soon the work was done and there was nothing more for me to do except wait the 3 days for the meat to cure before butchering, which a friend would help me with later back on Orcas.

The most profound part of the weekend for me was just becoming so comfortable with the blood and gore of it all. As people who know me well can attest, I have serious issues with blood. I have to lay down to get my blood drawn, can't donate, and have been known to get nauseaous and/or faint at the sight of a small cut on myself or others. Friends have to censor really graphic parts in movies and I cover my eyes until the blood has past.

Yet. Somehow when it comes to animal blood, I do just fine. In fact, the instinctual drive to preserve the animal makes it easy. Where this comes from I don't know, but it's pretty empowering for a person who normally has to lay by the toilet for 10 minutes after cutting her finger slightly on a kitchen knife.

Rediscovering the Mainland

I have been totally in love with rural island living for more than a year, but the charm seems to be wearing off a little. While for the past year I only left the island when I had to, I suddenly find myself leaving more often and drawn to the people, culture, variety, and faster pace on the "mainland".

On my most recent off-island trip I hiked up Mt. Pilchuck (near Granite Falls) with girlfriends Erin and Serena. I was excited to go hiking in the Cascades and see a new view, which was supposed to be spectacular from the 1920's fire lookout at the top. Unfortunately, it was a foggy, overcast day, and we couldn't see anything! It was still a beautiful hike, and fun, varied trail through forest and granite boulder fields. Afterward, tired and hungry, we returned to Erin's house to make dinner and get a pasta-making lesson from her. We made delicious homemade butternut squash and sage raviolis with a toasted hazelnut brown butter sauce, a shave of pecorino, and green salad with heirloom garden tomatoes.

My niece Emma also turned one year old! I can't believe it. She is walking all over the place, saying a few words, and pretty much cuter than ever. It was a pool party for her birthday and I found myself having a blast with all the kids going down the big slide and swinging on the rope swing.

I also caught up with old friends, went running on the Burke-Gilman, and enjoyed some happy-hour specials including a prickly pear margarita. Ole!

A Quote and A Shout-Out

I want to send my love and best wishes to a couple friends who just left the country! First to Elizabeth, who moved back to Buenos Aires for the next 8 months. I visited her last year in Chile before she moved to BA for the first time. We had a blast in Valparaiso and I know she will have an amazing time being back in South America.

The day after she left, Kate left for Jordan, Egypt, Syria, and Israel/Palestine for the next 5 months. You can read about both their adventures in their blogs, La Vida Desconocida and In the Middle of What, respectively. Seeing their excitement in embarking on these adventures only heightens my desire to take off for somewhere myself. Hopefully soon... maybe I can even meet up with one or both of them!

I also recently came across a quote I really like by Martha Graham, choreographer and dancer who basically pioneered modern dance.

"There is a vitality, a life force, and energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, that expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open."

Heck yeah!