The first bar we went to was called Commun, which was another example of the vinyl-only music bar. They had Guinness on draft, which was beyond incredible, priced at only $7 a pint (I would have scoffed at paying that much a few months ago, but was by this point actually relieved to hear it was so affordable, and not the $12 Seoul pint I had heard of). The bar was choked with foreigners, which, as I stated before, was a bit of a drag- I think we all experienced a bit of culture shock, and were as a result huddled into the back corner of the large basement room the bar occupied. Seeing the album cover of Captian Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica hanging on the wall behind the bar, I tried talking to the older Korean owner about it, only for him to respond "So what? Everyone knows that album, it's common, I mean, if you actually like real music." I don't think that's the case, and certainly not in 2007, in Korea. Nonetheless I, a scolded country mouse in the big city, sat quietly finishing my seven dollar Guinness. The other bars were unremarkable aside from their utterly Western atmosphere, with American bartenders and, in one case, a kid belting out Arcade Fire covers on a small stage. I've got a video of Alicia singing along with the song 'Wake Up', but I think she'd kill me if I posted it. She might kill me for even mentioning it.
The night went on until far later than it should have, failing to keep in mind our goal to wake up early the next morning to explore the city. The night ended in an intoxicated, and therefore infuriating, session of crane game outside a convenience store. Our friend won a butane lighter on his first go, which set the hook in us to keep trying for far too long. Maybe an hour.
No Lures, Just Light
The next morning we awoke somewhat later than we had anticipated (around 11:30), and it took more than an hour to get everyone out of the hotel and into a cab for lunch. Our friends, during their extensive wandering while trying to find us the night before, had seen an Outback Steakhouse tucked away in the shopping district of downtown, on the second story of a building on top of a McDonalds. Agreeing that after a few months of fatty pork and kimchi there would be nothing better than a rare steak and a bloomin' onion, we made our way to the restaurant (telling the cab driver "Outa-backu Steaku-housa", which is apparently correct). And get a rare steak I did, perhaps one of the rarest steaks I've ever eaten. It was amazing, though even at lunch special prices, it was still $25... and it took about 2 hours or more to get back on the street.
Fighting the urge to go back to the Love Motel and take a nap, we soldiered on; My friend Gabe and I set out for a traditional Korean medicine market, while Alicia and his girlfriend went off shopping. But before we had left the main road, we found the Halloween store we had been hoping for. Quite different from the meager selection of Halloween goods found in Jeju Si, this was an entire store devoted to costumes. After considering the oversized mascot heads (see below), I settled on a cheap rubber chicken mask which, being designed for a much smaller head, I would later have to modify (as in, rip the face out of, and sloppily tie the shreds of the beak into a mask.)
A glimpse of what could have been.
Doctor, Doctor! Gimme The Newts!
Soon thereafter, we came upon the medicine district, full of ginseng peddlers and shops stacked to the ceiling with dried herbs and various animal bits. The first store that we stopped in, of the many dozens on that street alone, happened to be owned by a young English-speaking couple. It is perhaps for this reason that they were able to sell so much of their merchandise to us; they had to do little more than say "oh, that is ginseng whiskey" for us to have purchased a fifth of the liquor, and after another ten minutes of questions about the assorted wares, we came away with some red ginseng (the area's specialty) and a spicy black tea made from roughly ten different herbs. We learned that in addition to ginseng, the antlers of deer are incredibly popular as a medicinal food, boiled and eaten for a variety of ailments. We had considered buying some at a later store that seemed to specialize in them, but they are by no means cheap, and apparently are rather foul; we asked the shopkeeper, using the tiny bit of Korean we knew, if the antlers were delicious, and he nearly laughed us out of the store.
Rather inexplicably, there was an entire block of this medicine market area that was dedicated not to remedy but to... fake food displays. Groups of older women in nearly identical shops were toiling away making elaborately ornate representations of Korean foods, using a pasty substance that looked enough like dough to fool us into thinking that they might be fancy cakes, encourage us to, once again, inquire in Korean as to whether these things were delicious (really, it was the closest we could come to 'edible'). We received the very same reaction as before. These creations, made from what appeared (after a reinspection) to be the same inedible hard sugar stuff that the Mexican Dia de los Muertos calavera sugar skulls are made from. I suppose they are for restaurants to display their speciality in a window front, though I have yet to encounter a restaurant that serves entire full-grown octopus platters, or prawns larger than a baby.
The fake-food district
A particularly fine example of quality octopusmanship.
The very last store we came upon in the medical district was an old traditional Korean doctor's office, and inside we found the most wondrous things. Lining the walls were animals (or rather, parts of animals) of all shapes and sizes. Inside, we were ushered around by an elderly Korean woman, who claimed (we gathered, from her long string of Korean words peppered occasionally by an English one) that her son was a doctor in America. Starting with a large and authentic stuffed sea turtle, she showed us the doctor's menagerie of fragments, which included reindeer antlers, ox horns, mice pelts (to make you rich, she said), sea horses, and jars full of fish, scorpions, salamanders, and cockroaches. The two things that we actually tried to buy were both suspended in alcohol: white snake whiskey, and dog penis vodka. They were, unfortunately, very expensive and rare, and thus not for sale. At the very least, it was amusing to watch the old Korean woman use a stiff forearm to forcefully demonstrate the virility one would gain from drinking these liquors.
Cockroaches, for swelling and bone problems:
Newts, for the legs I think:
White Snake Whiskey, which sounds more than a little like an 80's hair band launched a liquor brand... hell, it's a better name than Cabo Wabo.
Dog Potion #9:
One-Stop Shopping
Departing from the medicine market, we caught a cab to the area around the massive Seomun Market. It is one of the three largest shopping areas in Korea, and dates back to the mid-1600's. On the way there, we walked through the red light district (the Lonely Planet guidebook recommended it), but apparently the trade is slow at four in the afternoon. Seomun market loomed ahead, and we could just begin to see how massive it is. Half and hour later, after walking through stall after stall of bootleg clothes and food vendors, we realized that we would never see all of it that night. I bought an awesome watch for around five dollars, and tried a delicious green tea pancake stuffed with cinnamon and syrup. After passing another few streets, we stumbled into the meat section, which I'll dub Animal Alley.
Cage upon cage of animals (including one obnoxious cat that would not shut up) lined the streets, either being sold for meat, or in the case of the puppies and cat, for pets (not good economic sense to eat something with such little meat, I'd think). The seafood section was impressive, with massive shark fins, skinned and dried rays, and a myriad of other strange aquatic beasts. I also got my first look at kaegogi, or Korean dog meat, seeing a half-slab of Rover laid out in a freezer, tail nub and all. We took a photo of the puppies for sale as pets, and took photos of a few hanging beef cuts, and later managed to convince our girlfriends that they were puppy fillets. They were not so happy when they learned the truth.
The entrance to a vast network of market stalls.
Animal Alley, with everything from pheasants to puppies.
These hideous monsters are called monkfish, or anglers, or (in Korean) agu, and they are, as I found out later that week, a bit on the chewy side.
What time is it? DISCO TIME!
Halloween Night
After a few hours of rest, we outfitted ourselves in our costumes, and headed out for the Thunderbird Lounge, the bar at which a large Halloween party would be held, forgoing dinner as we were all still full from our Outback excursion. The party itself was nothing too remarkable; we had attended the same bar the night before after leaving Commun, and aside from seeing a lot of familiar faces from the EPIK orientation in August (many EPIK teachers from all over Korea had come), it was quite similar to the night before... except the Korean girl tending bar had an Afro and a moustache.
Alicia and I had to do the best we could on such short notice, settling on a retread of our costumes a few years ago, though I am sure I was a much shabbier chicken this time around, with my ripped face mask. We actually came in second or third in the couples costume category, though there was only one prize, and it went to a pair of mimes. Our friend, who had made a ballerina costume from scratch, won the grand prize, though I really like another teacher's interpretation of an aggima, old Korean women who sell fruits and various other things, and can be quite rude and pushy (and spit a lot). He had the squat down exactly- they perch like that for hours at a time. We left the Thunderbird around 2am, and wandered from bar to bar until around 4:30am, then, utterly exhausted, made our way back home. The bars close at five in the morning in Korea, but I have never, even on a good night, been able to make it that late.
Cat and Chicken, The Sequel
Aggima
Pump You Up (Or, T-shirts In The Wintertime)
Departing Daegu after a rushed trip to Burger King, we arrived back in sunny Jeju Island around mid afternoon. Looking forward to a quiet afternoon of relaxing, we wheeled our suitcase out into the airport lobby, where we set eyes on a banner that immediately dismissed all of our previous plans for relaxation. The International Federation of Body Building was holding their World Championship in Jeju Stadium. Within an hour, we were at the gate of the stadium with our friend Doug, paying the nominal fee to see what promised, judging from the spectators walking around the grounds alone, a very amusing Sunday afternoon.
We found ourselves seated front-and-center, directly behind the American team. It was too late when we realized that sitting behind these hardcore bodybuilders would leave us very little room to make jokes about the proceedings, but thankfully, after an hour of struggling to keep a straight face, they departed. The opening ceremony involved a Parade of Nations, as the weightlifters from each of around 70 nations paraded out onto the stage, accompanied by a man or woman in a suit, presumably their trainer or assistant. All were not so lucky, however, including the poor little Chinese Taipei contestant who, aside from being remarkably scrawny and sporting a weaselly mustache, had no one to carry his sign.
Poor old Chinese Taipei
The competition consisted of nine weight classes with six contestants each (we only made it through the fourth round, with both hunger and antsy boredom overtaking us by that point, 3 hours later). Each contestant had an individual floor routine, consisting of freeform posing, with musical accompaniments that ranged from the overly-dramatic to the silly (see videos below). The six were then lined up side by side and made to perform mandatory poses, and then came the Pose Down. The Pose Down is the bodybuilding equivalent of a dance-off, with each contestant trying to outdo each other, often stepping in front of others, or bumping them out of the way. They are called back out, and ranked from 6th to 1st place.
Weightlifters:
Despite his cocky pose, he was in fact last place in his category.
A group of burly Brazilians were sitting above our head, and were by far the noisiest of any of the spectators in the arena. When a Brazilian contestant was on the stage, they would yell obscene cheers in Portuguese and cheer endlessly. The Koreans sitting around them often looked terrified, having no idea what these large tan beasts were capable of.
Here are a few videos:
Livin' on a prayer
Pose Down!!! (a tamer one, but the only one I've got)
The Brazilians cheering for their teammate.
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After such a busy weekend, I was ready to have a relaxed, calm week at school. I realized that this was too much to hope for on my first day back; as I walked into work on Monday morning, I was told by my co-teacher, "On Wednesday, we will climb a mountain. Get ready."
2 comments:
your life is unreal!
another witty, exciting post!
keep 'em coming!!!
awesome
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