Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Ode to Italian Espresso
The tiny cup sits in front of me aloofly with its still cap of perfect carmel crema. Pour the sugar in one place, don't sprinkle it around, they told me. Stir it in a focused circle, not a back-and-forth swish. I should drink it in a fast gulp, but I can't. I sip, savoring its brightness. Back home, bright would mean sour or weak or brewed too fast. But here, somehow, the flavor is strong and deep and still bright like a summer day. It's round and light and rich and smooth and pleased with itself, so I am pleased too. One last swirl gets the crema off the side of the cup, and I finish it, wistful about its small size. I want more, but espresso is a lesson in moderation and loving the smallest of moments. So the cup clinks on the saucer, and I smile at the coming day and the best euro ever spent.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
El Camino de Santiago
I can't remember when I first heard about El Camino de Santiago. I think I had a vague idea of it from various past references, then some friends walked it last summer and then I checked out a book from the library. It's a medieval pilgrimage route from various parts of Europe (mostly Spain) that end in Santiago de Compostela where the remains of Saint James are said to be buried. Though not particularly Christian, I loved the idea of doing a pilgrimage on a trail that had so much history and carried so many devoted people for over a thousand years. On this current trip to Spain I don't have enough time to do the whole thing (usually 4-6 weeks for most pilgrims) but I figured a few days on the trail was better than nothing. Luckily my friend Cherie was up for it at the drop of a hat, and with a few preparations and purchases we set out early one morning to take the 40 minute bus from Bilbao to Castro Urdiales where we started.
We began walking along the stone waterfront promenade, then up onto cliffsides with sweeping ocean views, following the symbols of El Camino: yellow arrows and shells.
The trail wove through small towns, farmland, highways, forests, and footpaths, always feeling like a scavenger hunt as we looked for the small painted yellow marks for where to go next. You would think nothing of them if you weren't looking, but they were always there, along with random spigots of drinking water. We saw a lot of cyclists, lizards, churches, and old men walking dogs. We met a little boy who excitedly told us about a beach up ahead. We passed a herd of sheep on a bluff where the only sound was their cowbells, and the 2 lone goats were sitting atop a picnic table. It was a surreal day, walking between the Bay of Biscay and the hills of Cantabria, not seeing any other pilgrims.
We finally reached our destination of Liendo in late afternoon. At that time of day it's still siesta and the small village was quiet, just closed shops and hot sidewalks and a looming stone church in the center of everything. We found the albergue, a hostel specifically for pilgrims. Luckily there were still a few beds left, even though most pilgrims start walking early and arrive at their daily destination earlier than we did. We heard that on the Camino Frances, the "main" route, it can be a bit crowded and almost a race to get a spot in the next hostel. We were on the mellower Camino Del Norte so our schedule was more flexible. It doesn't sound fun to stop walking at noon anyway- what would you do the rest of the day? We were happy to call it a day though, as our feet were pretty sore, Cherie with blisters and my feet threatening the appearance of some. We walked about 25 somewhat hilly kilometers (15.5 miles) with packs, so a good rest was in order.
We went to the one open cafe to get a few pintxos to go. Pintxo is a Basque word (written pincho in Spanish) and is basically the tapas of the Basque country/northern Spain. They are usually a slice of baguette with some kind of meat, cheese, seafood, and/or roasted veggies on top. These were like little raclettes on bread, so along with hard-boiled eggs, snap peas, cheese, crackers, fruit, and beer, we had a good dinner picnic just as the town was waking up for the evening. We chatted with the other pilgrims- several French, some German, and a Brazilian couple. Every one seemed surprised to learn we were American. It seemed like about half of the pilgrims had done a different route of the Camino before, and I guess once wasn't enough. Everyone headed to bed around 9 though the day was still bright out. I stayed up til 10 drinking half a cider with a German guy. Wild night at the pilgrim hostel!
The next morning Cherie and I had a nice chat over coffee with a middle-aged German woman, then set out again in our matching outfits. Oh, didn't I mention that we matched? We had bought leopard-print tank tops, and both had brown shorts, so we were sort of a ridiculous sight.
We made it to the city of Laredo with has a huge beach. We were tempted to swim, but it was just cloudy enough that it didn't feel totally inviting. Instead we continued on to a little foot ferry to cross the bay to the next town of Sartonya. What did Saint James do to get across before the ferry?, we wondered. We met a nice group of other pilgrim women, one French with 2 Romanians.
They were all really sweet and we ended up at the same hostel. Cherie and I went out for dinner and were excited to see signs for Water for Elephants at the one-screen theatre. I didn't have high expectations for the movie but we both loved the book. Unfortunately it was dubbed instead of subtitled, so we decided to pass. Gelato was our consolation prize so I can't compain.
The next day we walked a bit more, but it started raining in late morning so we weren't as ambitious as we could have been. It had been a short but full couple days of walking, so we caught a bus back to Bilbao to rest up and get ready for Barcelona.
We began walking along the stone waterfront promenade, then up onto cliffsides with sweeping ocean views, following the symbols of El Camino: yellow arrows and shells.
The trail wove through small towns, farmland, highways, forests, and footpaths, always feeling like a scavenger hunt as we looked for the small painted yellow marks for where to go next. You would think nothing of them if you weren't looking, but they were always there, along with random spigots of drinking water. We saw a lot of cyclists, lizards, churches, and old men walking dogs. We met a little boy who excitedly told us about a beach up ahead. We passed a herd of sheep on a bluff where the only sound was their cowbells, and the 2 lone goats were sitting atop a picnic table. It was a surreal day, walking between the Bay of Biscay and the hills of Cantabria, not seeing any other pilgrims.
We finally reached our destination of Liendo in late afternoon. At that time of day it's still siesta and the small village was quiet, just closed shops and hot sidewalks and a looming stone church in the center of everything. We found the albergue, a hostel specifically for pilgrims. Luckily there were still a few beds left, even though most pilgrims start walking early and arrive at their daily destination earlier than we did. We heard that on the Camino Frances, the "main" route, it can be a bit crowded and almost a race to get a spot in the next hostel. We were on the mellower Camino Del Norte so our schedule was more flexible. It doesn't sound fun to stop walking at noon anyway- what would you do the rest of the day? We were happy to call it a day though, as our feet were pretty sore, Cherie with blisters and my feet threatening the appearance of some. We walked about 25 somewhat hilly kilometers (15.5 miles) with packs, so a good rest was in order.
We went to the one open cafe to get a few pintxos to go. Pintxo is a Basque word (written pincho in Spanish) and is basically the tapas of the Basque country/northern Spain. They are usually a slice of baguette with some kind of meat, cheese, seafood, and/or roasted veggies on top. These were like little raclettes on bread, so along with hard-boiled eggs, snap peas, cheese, crackers, fruit, and beer, we had a good dinner picnic just as the town was waking up for the evening. We chatted with the other pilgrims- several French, some German, and a Brazilian couple. Every one seemed surprised to learn we were American. It seemed like about half of the pilgrims had done a different route of the Camino before, and I guess once wasn't enough. Everyone headed to bed around 9 though the day was still bright out. I stayed up til 10 drinking half a cider with a German guy. Wild night at the pilgrim hostel!
The next morning Cherie and I had a nice chat over coffee with a middle-aged German woman, then set out again in our matching outfits. Oh, didn't I mention that we matched? We had bought leopard-print tank tops, and both had brown shorts, so we were sort of a ridiculous sight.
We made it to the city of Laredo with has a huge beach. We were tempted to swim, but it was just cloudy enough that it didn't feel totally inviting. Instead we continued on to a little foot ferry to cross the bay to the next town of Sartonya. What did Saint James do to get across before the ferry?, we wondered. We met a nice group of other pilgrim women, one French with 2 Romanians.
They were all really sweet and we ended up at the same hostel. Cherie and I went out for dinner and were excited to see signs for Water for Elephants at the one-screen theatre. I didn't have high expectations for the movie but we both loved the book. Unfortunately it was dubbed instead of subtitled, so we decided to pass. Gelato was our consolation prize so I can't compain.
The next day we walked a bit more, but it started raining in late morning so we weren't as ambitious as we could have been. It had been a short but full couple days of walking, so we caught a bus back to Bilbao to rest up and get ready for Barcelona.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Spain
I´ve been in Spain for over a week and I think about this blog every day. As always with traveling, there are so many new sights, smells, sounds, experiences everyday and I think about how to put those into words, but so far I´ve had very little time to sit down at a computer. So instead, a quick update, better than nothing.
I met my friend Cherie in Bilbao, the biggest city in the Basque country in northern Spain. She and I met last year when we were both teaching in the same city in Korea. We both had talked about meeting up in Europe after Korea, so it´s awesome that it really happened! We headed to Barcelona together and have been doing a lot of walking, sightseeing, and eating here, as per usual. All is well, and I´ll try to write more details later!
I met my friend Cherie in Bilbao, the biggest city in the Basque country in northern Spain. She and I met last year when we were both teaching in the same city in Korea. We both had talked about meeting up in Europe after Korea, so it´s awesome that it really happened! We headed to Barcelona together and have been doing a lot of walking, sightseeing, and eating here, as per usual. All is well, and I´ll try to write more details later!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Crossing the Sun
Well, after being home for less than 2 months, I'm off again for a short stint in Europe. This trip has been long-awaited; I haven't been to Europe for 10 years and have wanted to go to Italy since then. I left Seattle on a drizzly afternoon, into that strange time warp of air travel where it never got completely dark, only twilight for a long time then light again. Just as I was getting tired around 11pm for my body, we arrived in Amsterdam at 8am local time. Going through immigration the lady was ridiculously nice, more interested in chatting about my travel plans. I took the train 15 min to Leiden where my friend Jeanine lives. I met her about 3 months ago while traveling in Vietnam... she had a ukulele in her backpack so I had to strike up a conversation, then we ended up spending the next few days together. Now she is back home and was kind enough to host me in my jet-lagged state. She met me at the train station and rode me to her place on the back of her bicycle, with amazing balance and burly legs like a proper Dutch gal. Leiden is a cute city, visually very similar to Amsterdam but smaller and mellowed. There are tons of canals, sidewalk cafes, and everyone riding bicycles. It was awesome to see her and we had a really fun day wandering around the city between my naps. Next up I'm flying to Bilbao, in northern Spain. More to come!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Austin
I just got back from Texas! One of my best friends moved to Austin while I was still in Korea, and I wanted to see her. Plus it's been the darkest, wettest, coldest Seattle spring in a million years (or something like that) so a hot-weather escape was in order. My friend Will and I went together, and arrived in Austin in the evening. The air was warm and the plants and birds and smells were unfamiliar and we were stoked for a few days in this new place. We had a late dinner consisting of many vegetables from their house farm box (So many things already in season! It's only May!) and some local Texan microbrews and sat out by the backyard fire. It was warm and dry but there was a lightning storm, turning the big night sky turquoise under streaks of forked lightning. We just don't get that in the Northwest.
I figured in the morning we'd wake up and get out the door as soon as possible to see Austin in the day time. But to my dismay, it was pouring down rain! Like, dumping buckets, tropical storm, hail stones, house-shaking thunder, raining. Apparently they really needed the rain, so I couldn't be too bummed, but seriously, we were trying to escape Seattle weather. It was a little ridiculous.
The next day the 5 of us walked around Congress street, got ice cream, and then decided to check out the flagship Wholefoods (essential tourist stop, I know) for lunch. It was indeed huge, with beer and wine tasting areas and a chocolate fountain. As we were leaving, the fire alarm went off, which we assumed was not real as the crowds of people flooded out the doors. We went to the car and smelled smoke, and as we pulled out of the parking garage, saw smoke and fire trucks on the corner. Only my 3rd day in Texas, and already I was dodging death.
It just meant that the three of us sat around the cozy dining room with pot after pot of french-press coffee, attempting to catch up on the last year of life. Luckily it cleared up by afternoon and got sunny and we headed out for a walk and shopping. That night we met up with Lindsey's roommate at a pizza place for dinner, who also had just had a friend come into town. Incidentally, the roommate and her friend are both also from Washington state, making for a 5-person Pacific Northwest convergence.
The next day the 5 of us walked around Congress street, got ice cream, and then decided to check out the flagship Wholefoods (essential tourist stop, I know) for lunch. It was indeed huge, with beer and wine tasting areas and a chocolate fountain. As we were leaving, the fire alarm went off, which we assumed was not real as the crowds of people flooded out the doors. We went to the car and smelled smoke, and as we pulled out of the parking garage, saw smoke and fire trucks on the corner. Only my 3rd day in Texas, and already I was dodging death.The afternoon sun was still hot, and we went to Barton Springs to go swimming. It's an awesome swimming area right in the city that is fed by a natural spring and is virtually the same temperature year-round. Unfortunately Lindsey had to go to work, but the four of us swam and sun-bathed and did some good people-watching.
Somehow our foursome dubbed ourselves Team America, and the Team decided that staying outside was the only way to go for dinner. Seriously, I love warm climates, where most of the year you never really have to go inside until its too hot and you need the a/c. The weather couldn't have been nicer, just warm and comfortable. There are a million taco trucks/food trailers in Austin, serving all sorts of food. This one that we went to had Mediterranean food and a doughnut truck and another one that I don't remember in detail but I was eyeing the half a quail. In the end I went for lamb kabob with a blackberry-roasted habanero dipping sauce. Yum! The best part about a lot of these places is that you can BYOB. Again, that would never happen in Washington.
The next morning, Team America went running together around the neighborhood. Linds and Caroline live in Cherrywood, a cute residential neighborhood with a handful of local coffee shops, grocery stores, taco stalls, and bars.
Then, in good Texan fashion, we went toobin' on the river. That's right, not tubing, it's toobin'. We drove about a half hour out of town to the Rio Blanco, where you can park your car, rent a tube, and have a bus shuttle you to a drop point upriver. It was a lot like the tubing I've done on the Nooksack- slow and shallow water, big groups of friends, separate intertubes to float food and drink coolers. Some of the differences though- half of the men on the river had tattoos, and most of them were Texas-themed (state shape or flag) or a cross (usually with a longhorn skull hanging from it). Also, every one was tan. And there were more speakers blasting really loud music. Definitely not as peaceful as the river experiences I've had back home, but super fun all the same.
On Sunday morning we all made a big Sunday brunch together and drank a lot of coffee while listening to the Gospel show on KEXP. In this city so close to the Mexican border, I was inspired to do some regional dishes, so we ended up with egg and poblano chilaquiles, sauteed summer squash, black beans, salsa, and homemade guacamole. Later, we got even more inspired and made avocado margaritas. Sounds weird right? Don't worry my friend, they were delicious, especially on a lazy hot Sunday in the backyard.
It was hard to leave such a wonderful place after connecting with new and old friends. I will miss Lindsey dearly, but hopefully she'll stay in Austin for awhile so I have an excuse to go back.
Somehow our foursome dubbed ourselves Team America, and the Team decided that staying outside was the only way to go for dinner. Seriously, I love warm climates, where most of the year you never really have to go inside until its too hot and you need the a/c. The weather couldn't have been nicer, just warm and comfortable. There are a million taco trucks/food trailers in Austin, serving all sorts of food. This one that we went to had Mediterranean food and a doughnut truck and another one that I don't remember in detail but I was eyeing the half a quail. In the end I went for lamb kabob with a blackberry-roasted habanero dipping sauce. Yum! The best part about a lot of these places is that you can BYOB. Again, that would never happen in Washington.
The next morning, Team America went running together around the neighborhood. Linds and Caroline live in Cherrywood, a cute residential neighborhood with a handful of local coffee shops, grocery stores, taco stalls, and bars.
Then, in good Texan fashion, we went toobin' on the river. That's right, not tubing, it's toobin'. We drove about a half hour out of town to the Rio Blanco, where you can park your car, rent a tube, and have a bus shuttle you to a drop point upriver. It was a lot like the tubing I've done on the Nooksack- slow and shallow water, big groups of friends, separate intertubes to float food and drink coolers. Some of the differences though- half of the men on the river had tattoos, and most of them were Texas-themed (state shape or flag) or a cross (usually with a longhorn skull hanging from it). Also, every one was tan. And there were more speakers blasting really loud music. Definitely not as peaceful as the river experiences I've had back home, but super fun all the same.
On Sunday morning we all made a big Sunday brunch together and drank a lot of coffee while listening to the Gospel show on KEXP. In this city so close to the Mexican border, I was inspired to do some regional dishes, so we ended up with egg and poblano chilaquiles, sauteed summer squash, black beans, salsa, and homemade guacamole. Later, we got even more inspired and made avocado margaritas. Sounds weird right? Don't worry my friend, they were delicious, especially on a lazy hot Sunday in the backyard. 
It was hard to leave such a wonderful place after connecting with new and old friends. I will miss Lindsey dearly, but hopefully she'll stay in Austin for awhile so I have an excuse to go back.Monday, May 9, 2011
Horray for Moms
Happy Mother's Day to all the mamas out there! I hope you had a fun, relaxing, love-filled day.
The past week I've been gearing up for the holiday at a flower shop in Bellingham where I've worked on and off for many years. It was great to be back among old coworkers and the flowers, chatting, laughing, and getting creative with beautiful fragrant things.
While not working I also found time to make dinner with my sister, draw with my niece, run around Lake Padden, go square dancing, see a local play, check out new restaurants, see old friends, play Bananagrams at the bar, drink a lot of coffee, and dream about going to Italy.
The past week I've been gearing up for the holiday at a flower shop in Bellingham where I've worked on and off for many years. It was great to be back among old coworkers and the flowers, chatting, laughing, and getting creative with beautiful fragrant things.
While not working I also found time to make dinner with my sister, draw with my niece, run around Lake Padden, go square dancing, see a local play, check out new restaurants, see old friends, play Bananagrams at the bar, drink a lot of coffee, and dream about going to Italy.On Sunday morning I worked for a few hours, made some corsages for the moms in my family, and high-tailed it back to Seattle for a late family lunch. It was a nice relaxing end to a hectic week, the best part of course being able to be with my mom. She is an amazing woman and one of my best friends, and I couldn't be more grateful for her presence in my life.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Adjustments After Korea
I've been home from Korea for almost 4 weeks now so I've had some time to reflect back on my time there, the good, the bad, and the in-between. It feels normal to be back in the United States, so often it's not until I'm talking about a specific subject that I realize how different some of my experiences in Korea were. I was buying new running shoes the other day, something that was impossible for me in Korea between the limited brands, models, and lack of communication. I started talking to the salesguy about the running culture in Korea and realized I had a lot to say between running clothes, routes, gender observations, race etiquette, post-race food, etc... things I just got used to while I was there.
First of all, what I miss:
* Reading Korean. I didn't learn as much Korean as I wanted, but I can read hangul and it is sort of a fun puzzle to always read things in a different alphabet. My vocabulary was pretty limited, but by the end of the year I could read a typical kimbap menu like this one like a pro.
* Korean food. While I was there, I missed Western breakfasts and the multitude of ethnic foods that I'm used to as an American, but now I miss Korean food. I miss kimchi and eating meals with a million tasty, pickled, spicy side dishes (called banchan). This picture if from a staff dinner at a duck restaurant... you can see meat grilling, meat waiting to be cooked, salad, dipping sauces, and several side dishes.
* Noraebang. This is Korean karaoke, where you have your own room with your friends to sing. They have an amazing English song selection, completely on par with anything you would find in the US. I wasn't a die-hard noraebanger, but it was a fun thing to do at the end of a night should you ever want to.
* My students. Like 6th graders anywhere, they could be funny or smart or apathetic or infuriating. But for the most part they were incredibly sweet and earnest. I miss working with kids and seeing what they come up with, like this student who made his cookie house with a waterwheel. The side-ways oreo was positioned over a chocolatey waterway. Seriously, how does a kid his age even know what a waterwheel is, much less how to engineer a candy one?
* Ingrish/Ridiculous English signage. This is one of the best parts about living in a non-English-speaking country in my opinion. I was constantly amused by inaccurate or simply bizzare English word choices, whether for stores...
(The first store is selling "lingelie" and the other specializes in "Performance Feminism Fashion" and is relevantly called "Soup".)
... or menu translations...
... like this one at an Italian restaurant, where for about $20 you too can get a calzone that is "derived form Italian, trousers, topped with ham and like a dumping". Sounds delicious!
Things I don't know if I miss or not, it's just different:
* Fashion. On one hand, I'm ecstatic to be out of a country where every one dresses exactly the same. For women, men, kids, athletic wear, hiking, business, etc. there is ONE set style and every one adheres to it for better or worse. For example, standard office wear always made me think that my Korean coworkers were ready to go from the office to a cocktail party. Here is one of my coworkers on a typical day, wearing a cute party dress, heels, and a pearl bracelet to teach elementary school. I mean, they always looked great, but it made the foreign teachers in our slacks and sweaters look pretty frumpy by comparison.
Here are women wearing normal "workout" clothes. Seriously, why not wear a short short floral tennis skirt, spaghetti strapped tank top, and white (only white this season people!) leg warmers to take a leisurely stroll on the treadmill??
So I appreciate the fashion freedom here, to not have to wear one set thing in any given situation. You can have a head of dreadlocks the size of Texas, or wear a blanket like a sweater, or tight orange leopard-print pants, and not one bats an eyelash. On the other, after a year in Korea, Washington feels ridiculously underdressed to me now. I was downtown the other day and saw buisnessmen in trousers and briefcases wearing fleece jackets. I know that's normal here, but after the impeccable formalwear of this past year, it made me do a double-take. Later I went out to a nice dinner and half the people were wearing jeans. I sort of miss being around a more well-dressed public, but I will take a wee bit of sloppiness over being stared at any day.
* Using two hands. In Korea, when you give or receive anything, you should use two hands, or at least hold the item in your right hand while placing your left hand at some point along your right arm. It shows respect and your full attention to the person and the item. For example, here you can see my friend Greg pouring me a drink, in which we are both giving and receiving with two hands. It became so ingrained over the past year, that I still catch myself doing it.
* Wearing shoes in the house. In Korea, you NEVER wear shoes in a home or temple. Even at my school, we removed our shoes at the door everyday, and changed into slippers. I taught everyday in slippers! When I was moving into my apartment, the movers would slip off their shoes before coming in, even while carrying a desk or mattress. Now it feels a bit strange and slightly dirty to wear shoes inside all the time.
Things I don't miss:
* The pollution. Here is a picture of the window screen in my apartment after living there only a few weeks... and this was a brand new building. It was an industrial city, but I couldn't believe how visibly dirty it was compared to home. Many Koreans wear face masks with good reason. I had to dust my apartment like 10 times more often than I have ever had to living anywhere else.
* Hiking. Okay, Koreans love their mountains and going hiking, but I just couldn't get as excited about it as I am at home. I climbed the 3 tallest mountains in South Korea, as well as all the peaks in the provincial parks in my state of Jeollabukdo. I tried to be a good sport, but let's face it, by west coast standards, Korean hiking is a joke. The summer is extremely humid, so between the pollution and the moisture in the air, you never have good visibility. And there are so many people that the trail is often a traffic jam, and the peak a pushy madhouse to find a place to sit and take a picture. This is at the top of Mt. Halla on Jeju Island, the tallest mountain in Korea, in September. I can't wait for some solid time in the North Cascades where there is solitude and crisp sweeping views.
* Not knowing what was going on most of the time. Living in a foreign country is a linguistic adventure, but it is incredibly tiring and frustrating not speaking the language. You end up sacrificing a lot of small needs and wants when you can't be understood. It made me so thankful for Korean friends who would translate when we went out. Here I am with my friend Jason, trying desperately to decode a menu via the phone dictionary... and we still ended up with squid somehow.
First of all, what I miss:
* Reading Korean. I didn't learn as much Korean as I wanted, but I can read hangul and it is sort of a fun puzzle to always read things in a different alphabet. My vocabulary was pretty limited, but by the end of the year I could read a typical kimbap menu like this one like a pro.
* Korean food. While I was there, I missed Western breakfasts and the multitude of ethnic foods that I'm used to as an American, but now I miss Korean food. I miss kimchi and eating meals with a million tasty, pickled, spicy side dishes (called banchan). This picture if from a staff dinner at a duck restaurant... you can see meat grilling, meat waiting to be cooked, salad, dipping sauces, and several side dishes.
* Noraebang. This is Korean karaoke, where you have your own room with your friends to sing. They have an amazing English song selection, completely on par with anything you would find in the US. I wasn't a die-hard noraebanger, but it was a fun thing to do at the end of a night should you ever want to.
* My students. Like 6th graders anywhere, they could be funny or smart or apathetic or infuriating. But for the most part they were incredibly sweet and earnest. I miss working with kids and seeing what they come up with, like this student who made his cookie house with a waterwheel. The side-ways oreo was positioned over a chocolatey waterway. Seriously, how does a kid his age even know what a waterwheel is, much less how to engineer a candy one?
* Ingrish/Ridiculous English signage. This is one of the best parts about living in a non-English-speaking country in my opinion. I was constantly amused by inaccurate or simply bizzare English word choices, whether for stores...
(The first store is selling "lingelie" and the other specializes in "Performance Feminism Fashion" and is relevantly called "Soup".)
... or menu translations...
... like this one at an Italian restaurant, where for about $20 you too can get a calzone that is "derived form Italian, trousers, topped with ham and like a dumping". Sounds delicious!
Things I don't know if I miss or not, it's just different:
* Fashion. On one hand, I'm ecstatic to be out of a country where every one dresses exactly the same. For women, men, kids, athletic wear, hiking, business, etc. there is ONE set style and every one adheres to it for better or worse. For example, standard office wear always made me think that my Korean coworkers were ready to go from the office to a cocktail party. Here is one of my coworkers on a typical day, wearing a cute party dress, heels, and a pearl bracelet to teach elementary school. I mean, they always looked great, but it made the foreign teachers in our slacks and sweaters look pretty frumpy by comparison.
Here are women wearing normal "workout" clothes. Seriously, why not wear a short short floral tennis skirt, spaghetti strapped tank top, and white (only white this season people!) leg warmers to take a leisurely stroll on the treadmill??
So I appreciate the fashion freedom here, to not have to wear one set thing in any given situation. You can have a head of dreadlocks the size of Texas, or wear a blanket like a sweater, or tight orange leopard-print pants, and not one bats an eyelash. On the other, after a year in Korea, Washington feels ridiculously underdressed to me now. I was downtown the other day and saw buisnessmen in trousers and briefcases wearing fleece jackets. I know that's normal here, but after the impeccable formalwear of this past year, it made me do a double-take. Later I went out to a nice dinner and half the people were wearing jeans. I sort of miss being around a more well-dressed public, but I will take a wee bit of sloppiness over being stared at any day.
* Using two hands. In Korea, when you give or receive anything, you should use two hands, or at least hold the item in your right hand while placing your left hand at some point along your right arm. It shows respect and your full attention to the person and the item. For example, here you can see my friend Greg pouring me a drink, in which we are both giving and receiving with two hands. It became so ingrained over the past year, that I still catch myself doing it.
* Wearing shoes in the house. In Korea, you NEVER wear shoes in a home or temple. Even at my school, we removed our shoes at the door everyday, and changed into slippers. I taught everyday in slippers! When I was moving into my apartment, the movers would slip off their shoes before coming in, even while carrying a desk or mattress. Now it feels a bit strange and slightly dirty to wear shoes inside all the time.
Things I don't miss:
* The pollution. Here is a picture of the window screen in my apartment after living there only a few weeks... and this was a brand new building. It was an industrial city, but I couldn't believe how visibly dirty it was compared to home. Many Koreans wear face masks with good reason. I had to dust my apartment like 10 times more often than I have ever had to living anywhere else.
* Hiking. Okay, Koreans love their mountains and going hiking, but I just couldn't get as excited about it as I am at home. I climbed the 3 tallest mountains in South Korea, as well as all the peaks in the provincial parks in my state of Jeollabukdo. I tried to be a good sport, but let's face it, by west coast standards, Korean hiking is a joke. The summer is extremely humid, so between the pollution and the moisture in the air, you never have good visibility. And there are so many people that the trail is often a traffic jam, and the peak a pushy madhouse to find a place to sit and take a picture. This is at the top of Mt. Halla on Jeju Island, the tallest mountain in Korea, in September. I can't wait for some solid time in the North Cascades where there is solitude and crisp sweeping views.
* Not knowing what was going on most of the time. Living in a foreign country is a linguistic adventure, but it is incredibly tiring and frustrating not speaking the language. You end up sacrificing a lot of small needs and wants when you can't be understood. It made me so thankful for Korean friends who would translate when we went out. Here I am with my friend Jason, trying desperately to decode a menu via the phone dictionary... and we still ended up with squid somehow.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Playing Catch-up
Once I got back on Washington soil, I decided to take it easy for a few days, and let my body clock adjust to the 17-hour time zone difference. Then it was time to start: Operation Do The Things I've Been Missing. I played this in Australia, after 11 months in Korea, and it mostly consisted of eating cheese and drinking vintage port and riding a bike in a straight line where I didn't have to constantly dodge people walking in front of me.
So far in Seattle my catching up has looked like this: walking around Greenlake, ridiculous amounts of coffee, Capitol Hill happy hours, obscenely cold and grey weather, CSA farmbox dinner, much-missed Western breakfasts at Glo and the Hi-Life, square dancing at the Tractor, and gardening in said cold and grey weather. Actually, there have been some nice-ish days, and I really can't complain anyway because I'm just so gosh-darn happy to be back. The highlight of being home so far though has been seeing my nieces, one who is 10 and so old and the other who is 2 and a half and so old. I mean, I know it's a very basic fact of life that kids grow up, but it just astounds me how much they have grown and changed in the last year. With the little one, I mostly marvel at how much she can talk while we play with balloons and have dance parties. The older one likes to cook, so I took her to a Korean market with me and then she helped me make the marinade for Korean galbi, the whole time just acting so old.
I also had to catch-up on car maintenance. My old Camry has been sitting at my parents' house for the past year, so I cleaned out the inside, got the oil changed, washed it, got insurance, and was pretty happy to be back on the road a few days after getting home.
I headed up to Bellingham, the drive alone filling me with elated nostalgia. I know I'm a total dork, but I actually started cheering when I got north of Mount Vernon and Mount Baker peaked over the hills. There is something about that 15 miles before Bellingham that make me feel like I'm really coming home to something, like the snow-dusted Chuckanuts are holding you in a little embrace before you round that last curve and see the sign shouting "Bellingham: Next 7 Exits"! After living there most of my adult life, it might be nestled a little deeper in my heart than Seattle is. I had to walk along the water to Boulevard Park, eat an Avenue Bread sandwich, sip a Black Drop americano, catch up with friends over cheese and wine at the Temple Bar, see some local live music at an ever-changing State Street venue, drink a Boundary Scotch Ale, wander around the Farmer's Market, hike to Fragrance Lake, and people-watch at the co-op. There are still so many people I want to see and things I want to do around that little city, and I will definitely be back up soon. I just love this place and it feels wonderful to have the time to sit with that love, adore and appreciate this life with these people. I'm not sure exactly where I'll head next, but for now I've never been more content not going anywhere at all.
I also had to catch-up on car maintenance. My old Camry has been sitting at my parents' house for the past year, so I cleaned out the inside, got the oil changed, washed it, got insurance, and was pretty happy to be back on the road a few days after getting home.
I headed up to Bellingham, the drive alone filling me with elated nostalgia. I know I'm a total dork, but I actually started cheering when I got north of Mount Vernon and Mount Baker peaked over the hills. There is something about that 15 miles before Bellingham that make me feel like I'm really coming home to something, like the snow-dusted Chuckanuts are holding you in a little embrace before you round that last curve and see the sign shouting "Bellingham: Next 7 Exits"! After living there most of my adult life, it might be nestled a little deeper in my heart than Seattle is. I had to walk along the water to Boulevard Park, eat an Avenue Bread sandwich, sip a Black Drop americano, catch up with friends over cheese and wine at the Temple Bar, see some local live music at an ever-changing State Street venue, drink a Boundary Scotch Ale, wander around the Farmer's Market, hike to Fragrance Lake, and people-watch at the co-op. There are still so many people I want to see and things I want to do around that little city, and I will definitely be back up soon. I just love this place and it feels wonderful to have the time to sit with that love, adore and appreciate this life with these people. I'm not sure exactly where I'll head next, but for now I've never been more content not going anywhere at all.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Home Sweet Home
I made it home safe and sound after 13 months in Asia. I had an awesome year, and I'm also very happy to be back in Seattle. Here's something I wrote about a month ago when I first got to Thailand, as I was enjoying my travels but dreaming of home:
(Written Thursday March 10)
It's a tropical paradise of white beaches, torquoise water, soft sand, colorful fish, luscious fruit. Almost sterile in its beauty- too bright, too clean. And I don't want it any more. I want slate-green ocean and grey skies, beaches so rocky and rocks so barnacled you must wear sandals to swim. Messy, slimy waterfront of kelp and bladder-rack. Purple starfish the most vibrant animal underwater. Boring, boring, comfortingly boring clear jellyfish. Kale and carrots and local berries. Blackberries so abundant and invasive you can't sell them. Apples, delicious but unpretentious. These are our fruits. Salmon, caught and smoked by a family member. Cold water that I hold dear. Crisp, austere Cascades. Aloof Olympics. Rain that you can walk in but not swim in. Kids who eye me cautiously because I'm a stranger but not a foreigner. I want to complain about the lack of sun, not nurse a sunburn. I want to wear that old hat I've had for too long, and the knit scarf that is all stretched out. Cowgirl boots and rubber boots. Trade instant coffee for something organic, locally-roasted, and snobbily-brewed. Trade mango lassi for yerba mate. A chance to make my mom laugh, one of my favorite things. A chance for my friends to make me laugh.
(Written Thursday March 10)
It's a tropical paradise of white beaches, torquoise water, soft sand, colorful fish, luscious fruit. Almost sterile in its beauty- too bright, too clean. And I don't want it any more. I want slate-green ocean and grey skies, beaches so rocky and rocks so barnacled you must wear sandals to swim. Messy, slimy waterfront of kelp and bladder-rack. Purple starfish the most vibrant animal underwater. Boring, boring, comfortingly boring clear jellyfish. Kale and carrots and local berries. Blackberries so abundant and invasive you can't sell them. Apples, delicious but unpretentious. These are our fruits. Salmon, caught and smoked by a family member. Cold water that I hold dear. Crisp, austere Cascades. Aloof Olympics. Rain that you can walk in but not swim in. Kids who eye me cautiously because I'm a stranger but not a foreigner. I want to complain about the lack of sun, not nurse a sunburn. I want to wear that old hat I've had for too long, and the knit scarf that is all stretched out. Cowgirl boots and rubber boots. Trade instant coffee for something organic, locally-roasted, and snobbily-brewed. Trade mango lassi for yerba mate. A chance to make my mom laugh, one of my favorite things. A chance for my friends to make me laugh.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Back to Thailand
It was nice to arrive back at the airport in Bangkok and have it feel familiar. Just over 3 weeks ago, I was mildly shocked at leaving Korea and being in another new country. But it was already routine coming here, knowing where things were and hopping on the train to the city. It was a crazy day of travel, since the night before I had taken an overnight bus from Nha Trang, Vietnam, back to Saigon. I got in around 7am and had just enough time to say goodbye to Jacklyn one more time and take a shower before doing an organized tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels at 8:15. These are a huge underground tunnel system where Viet Cong hid during the war. I returned to in time to grab some lunch and get a taxi to the airport, catch my flight, and then try to make my way to the Northern Bus Terminal in Bangkok for yet another overnight bus. It was sort of a ridiculous day to plan into my trip, and I was prepared for something to go wrong, but amazingly nothing did. Instead, I got to the bus station at 9pm with a bus leaving in half and hour, so it was perfect. I managed to get a decent amount of sleep, and when I woke up was in the northern city of Chiang Mai.
I had heard a lot of good things about Chiang Mai, and even in the blue early-morning light, the place had a good feel. Markets were getting going, monks were walking in a line of red fabric down the sidewalk from one of numerous wats, and the side streets were narrow with small, cute restaurants, cafes, tour agencies, spas, and guesthouses. I checked into a hostel and had a mellow day walking around the city, visiting temples and eating good food.
The next day I took a one-day cooking class at the Thai Farm Cooking School, which was awesome. They picked up the 9 students from our various hotels, and in the end we had Americans, Swiss, Canadians, Germans, and a Singaporean. First we went to a local market where the instructor explained many key ingredients in Thai cooking. Then we drove out of the city to the lovely property and took a stroll through their gardens. We smelled kaffir lime, ate bitter eggplant, and compared different kinds of basil. We were making 5 courses, and for each course could choose from 3 different options. We could make green, yellow, or red curry from scratch, and with the paste make a chicken or tofu coconut curry. 
We also made a soup and salad, with most of the vegetables somewhat prepped so we were able to make the dishes fairly quickly. The instructor spoke great English and was very thorough and informative, and always reminded us to smile while cooking. We made our dishes, then all sat down to lunch outside on the terrace overlooking a pond. It was a feast, with our 3 dishes, plus jasmine rice, sticky rice, and other students sharing what they made. There was built-in siesta time to wander the farm or lay in the grass, which was much needed. In the afternoon we made another dish (spring rolls, pad thai, or pad see ew) that was meant as take-home food, in what the instructor called "Thai tupperware", referring to a plastic bag. Finally we made dessert, mango with sticky rice for me, and sat down together for our respective desserts and tea from the garden, while the instructor handed out the cookbooks and answered questions.
It was a really lovely day, well organized, with a good flow and a healthy, happy vibe. I thought I would never eat again, but I managed some street food when I went to the night market later that evening. I rented a motorbike and did some shopping before calling it a day. The next morning I headed just out of town to do a hike up to a small temple on a hillside. It was one of my favorite temples I've seen, with an ancient, tucked away, and not-at-all ostentatious feel to it. I couldn't have picked a better place to go on my last full day in Thailand. I was the only Westerner there, and struck up a conversation with an older Thai man. He was incredibly sweet as he asked me about the US and Korea. He asked me about my family and how old my parents were. "I'm same age as your dad! I can be like your dad!" he said. The monks were lining up for lunch at a long table lined with different dishes. The man explained that they had just finished a 15-day session, and at 11am the community serves them lunch in a sort of potluck-style. "After monks, eat, we can all eat too," he said. I told him I didn't want to intrude. "No, but you're like daughter! You have to eat with us!" he insisted. So I enjoyed rice, noodle dishes, eggs, cashew chicken, mixed veggies, fruit, and rice cakes while my new friend nodded happily.
I had to hurry down the mountain to return the motorbike and get to the train that evening. I took the overnight train which was quite comfortable, with full-sized sleeping bunks. While it had been fairly cool in Chiang Mai, I was greeted with a blast of heat in Bangkok. I spent the day drinking mango smoothies, iced coffee, walking by shrines, getting a massage, and checking out the Bangkok Art and Cultural Center, which was amazing. I haven't seen so much local art for, well, over a year. I met a new friend at the hostel to have dinner with before catching the flight. We talked about farming and our favorite types of heirloom tomatoes, and it made me excited to be back in the Pacific Northwest. I enjoyed my last plate of real Thai basil chicken, then headed to the airport for 28 hour trip home.
I had heard a lot of good things about Chiang Mai, and even in the blue early-morning light, the place had a good feel. Markets were getting going, monks were walking in a line of red fabric down the sidewalk from one of numerous wats, and the side streets were narrow with small, cute restaurants, cafes, tour agencies, spas, and guesthouses. I checked into a hostel and had a mellow day walking around the city, visiting temples and eating good food.
The next day I took a one-day cooking class at the Thai Farm Cooking School, which was awesome. They picked up the 9 students from our various hotels, and in the end we had Americans, Swiss, Canadians, Germans, and a Singaporean. First we went to a local market where the instructor explained many key ingredients in Thai cooking. Then we drove out of the city to the lovely property and took a stroll through their gardens. We smelled kaffir lime, ate bitter eggplant, and compared different kinds of basil. We were making 5 courses, and for each course could choose from 3 different options. We could make green, yellow, or red curry from scratch, and with the paste make a chicken or tofu coconut curry. 
We also made a soup and salad, with most of the vegetables somewhat prepped so we were able to make the dishes fairly quickly. The instructor spoke great English and was very thorough and informative, and always reminded us to smile while cooking. We made our dishes, then all sat down to lunch outside on the terrace overlooking a pond. It was a feast, with our 3 dishes, plus jasmine rice, sticky rice, and other students sharing what they made. There was built-in siesta time to wander the farm or lay in the grass, which was much needed. In the afternoon we made another dish (spring rolls, pad thai, or pad see ew) that was meant as take-home food, in what the instructor called "Thai tupperware", referring to a plastic bag. Finally we made dessert, mango with sticky rice for me, and sat down together for our respective desserts and tea from the garden, while the instructor handed out the cookbooks and answered questions.
It was a really lovely day, well organized, with a good flow and a healthy, happy vibe. I thought I would never eat again, but I managed some street food when I went to the night market later that evening. I rented a motorbike and did some shopping before calling it a day. The next morning I headed just out of town to do a hike up to a small temple on a hillside. It was one of my favorite temples I've seen, with an ancient, tucked away, and not-at-all ostentatious feel to it. I couldn't have picked a better place to go on my last full day in Thailand. I was the only Westerner there, and struck up a conversation with an older Thai man. He was incredibly sweet as he asked me about the US and Korea. He asked me about my family and how old my parents were. "I'm same age as your dad! I can be like your dad!" he said. The monks were lining up for lunch at a long table lined with different dishes. The man explained that they had just finished a 15-day session, and at 11am the community serves them lunch in a sort of potluck-style. "After monks, eat, we can all eat too," he said. I told him I didn't want to intrude. "No, but you're like daughter! You have to eat with us!" he insisted. So I enjoyed rice, noodle dishes, eggs, cashew chicken, mixed veggies, fruit, and rice cakes while my new friend nodded happily.
I had to hurry down the mountain to return the motorbike and get to the train that evening. I took the overnight train which was quite comfortable, with full-sized sleeping bunks. While it had been fairly cool in Chiang Mai, I was greeted with a blast of heat in Bangkok. I spent the day drinking mango smoothies, iced coffee, walking by shrines, getting a massage, and checking out the Bangkok Art and Cultural Center, which was amazing. I haven't seen so much local art for, well, over a year. I met a new friend at the hostel to have dinner with before catching the flight. We talked about farming and our favorite types of heirloom tomatoes, and it made me excited to be back in the Pacific Northwest. I enjoyed my last plate of real Thai basil chicken, then headed to the airport for 28 hour trip home.
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