dollop of solipsism

hidden between the gimmicky bus cafe (an eatery that is literally inside a bus) and the dance club G2 is buda bar, an orient-inspired lounge that serves wine, cocktails, and hookah. patrons must secure their shoes inside cubbies upon entering the lobby. a helpful member of the staff leads the way as one marvels at the stream that flows through the establishment. cave-like rooms of various sizes are located strategically throughout, a partition of giant gossamer curtains acting as doors.

i and a few EPIK teachers visited buda bar thursday night as a kind of farewell get-together for elisha, who is leaving korea in mid-march. she expressed interest in smoking hookah, which is something i did once a few years ago in seoul. jamee (from ymca korean class) suggested ggotbat (꽃밭) but we took ros’s recommendation of buda bar. unfortunately, our server informed us that their hookah was of low-quality that night, and they didn’t feel comfortable serving it. we were disappointed, but the atmosphere of the place prevented us from switching to another bar.

we ordered drinks and soaked in the ambiance. the floors and walls of buda bar are concrete with coats of glaze on the surface, giving them the appearance of wet clay. we sat on the ground, surrounded by soft and colorful pillows and cushions. the two low tables at the center held our drinks and tea light candles. candles were everywhere, on the walls, in the rooms, even in the stream. amidst such loveliness we talked the night away. surely, we’ll miss elisha, who did such a good job as our EPIK coordinator.

[buda bar is off of rodeo street, next to the dance club G2. a bottle of wine is priced around ₩35,000 and individual cocktails/drinks are just under ₩10,000.]

oftentimes the many thoughts i want to share don’t merit entire posts. i pressure myself to make individual posts be about something—this allows me to be focused. however, what ends up happening is that countless unwritten ideas get jumbled in my mind, forever waiting in line. i’ve always liked kelly’s “confession monday(s),” and i am stealing that concept. on fridays, i will write down random thoughts going on in my head. we’re calling it “friday feelings.” suggest a better title, will ya?

♦ went to school yesterday and had a mini-meeting with miss son, my new co-teacher. we’ll be teaching 1st graders together. it’s her first time co-teaching (she’s young), so she was very receptive to my ideas for the class. as far as i know, there aren’t set curricula for any of the subjects, which is why we have to plan the entire course on our own. there are approved state textbooks, though, but our students’ english levels are so high, we don’t use them. we’re choosing to make our english class a “reading class,” and for our text this semester, we’re going with my recommendation, jerry spinelli’s stargirl (the other option i threw out was neil gaiman’s coraline). i started it today. so far, so good.

♦ the new school year starts monday. vacation over! ::sigh::

♦ it’s apparent that i’m getting fitter. it’s probably a combination of the healthier eating and the more frequent visits to the gym.

♦ hosea won top chef season 5. he is the worst top chef winner. ever.

♦ i finally saw the reader, rachel getting married and doubt. skip the reader. the other two are fantastic.

♦ my book club’s next selection is stefan fatsis’s word freak: heartbreak, triumph, genius, and obsession in the world of competitive scrabble players. i think it’s our first non-fiction book, which is exciting! i ordered my copy from what the book (they’ve revamped their web site; looks good).

♦ the korean won → US dollar exchange rate is horrocious. we’re losing nearly 50% of the value by sending money home.

♦ last weekend, ros and i were at the ice parlor natuur in downtown daegu. a group of young mothers (like, six of them) came in with their rugrats (like, eight of them). single no longer, these women obviously wanted to hold onto some sex & the city fantasy by coming into an ice parlor in friggin downtown on a busy saturday night. i eyed them judgmentally. half an hour later, they headed out but i suppose one of the children got knocked around near the crowded counter. next thing i know, one of the moms grabs a female college student by the collar and shakes her violently, yelling at her. i was shocked. and then the mothers left with the kids. the college student’s boyfriend, who had gone to look for seats, came back to the counter to see his girlfriend all shook up. he rushed outside to ask, “이모, 왜?” (auntie, why?). and then it got progressively worse. i heard ”십팔년” (fucking bitch) and “개새끼” (son of a bitch) through the glass doors. all the while, the children were standing right there, watching the verbal fight. a couple of them were crying. i was like, what the hell? what kind of example are we setting for these kids? and then the police came…koreans love to watch a good fight on the street; it’s a spectator sport for them. tsk tsk tsk.

♦ i don’t want to like them, but 소녀시대 girls’ generation’s brand new single “gee” is so irresistible, so darn cute, that i can’t help but LOVE. IT. i’ve been meaning to do a massive post about korean pop groups, but i really wouldn’t know where to begin. girls’ generation consists of nine (count ‘em, NINE) young women who are pretty much every freaking where nowadays. the boys want to be with them, and the girls want to be them. like all pop hits, “gee” is accompanied by some special dance moves that youngsters across the country already know by heart. you can look at diana’s graduation post to see our students bust the “gee” moves. music video below (take note of the precise transitions the members have to execute):

how many writers of asian descent, who write in english, can you name off the top of your head (excluding indians)? i’ll give you a sec.

i can list fourteen. amy tan, maxine hong kingston, david henry hwang, ha jin, chang-rae lee, caroline hwang, eileen chang, chay yew, haruki murakami, kazuo ishiguro, bette bao lord, linda sue park, lensey namioka, and of course, the topic of our post today, gish jen.

in my senior year at nyu, i took a course called “major american writers” (yes, i had to check my transcript for that info—it has been a long time), where the ‘professor’ included an inspiring choice in our syllabus, gish jen’s short story “who’s irish?” (though he failed to include any american playwrights because they are, apparently, not writers). i warmed up to jen immediately; the voice was so clear, the writing so on point (not to mention, side-splittingly funny). i thought—she is writing to me, about me, for me.

last month, my online book club chose the book of short stories, who’s irish?, as our umpteenth selection. i was eager to revisit “who’s irish?,” the first story in the collection, for i think a second read of a text forms a permanent impression in your memory. if i may, an excerpt:

          In China, people say mixed children are supposed to be smart, and definitely my granddaughter Sophie is smart. But Sophie is wild, Sophie is not like my daughter Natalie, or like me. I am work hard my whole life, and fierce besides. My husband always used to say he is afraid of me, and in our restaurant, busboys and cooks all afraid of me too. Even the gang members come for protection money, they try to talk to my husband. When I am there, they stay away. If they come by mistake, they pretend they are come to eat. They hide behind the menu, they order a lot of food. They talk about their mothers. Oh, my mother have some arthritis, need to take herbal medicine, they say. Oh, my mother getting old, her hair all white now.
          I say, your mother’s hair used to be white, but since she dye it, it become black again. Why don’t you go home once in a while and take a look? I tell them, Confucius say a filial son knows what color his mother’s hair is. (3)

the entire story is told in the grandmother’s broken english, and it is often hilarious. behind the comedy, though, is a poignant examination of this wide gap—as wide as the pacific ocean—between the parents who have immigrated to the US, and their US-raised children. the narrator babysits her wild granddaughter sophie and disciplines her in the traditional chinese way. when the daughter, a successful banker, finds out that sophie has been spanked, she reprimands her mother’s parenting skills. her irish husband likens the grandmother to a relic of the past—some kooky old chinese lady.

yeah, she’s pretty amusing with her broken english and severe opinions; she’s almost a caricature—except she’s not. my mother is exactly like that. my asian-american friends’ moms are exactly like that. on this second read, i focused on the daugher’s treatment of the grandmother, and realized that i think about my parents in a totally patronizing, dismissive manner (it’s similar to how foreigners living in korea comment on those “silly” korean things). it’s as much a generational gap as a cultural gap, within one family. these differences; it’s really hard to overcome them.

of the eight stories in who’s irish?, there are few standouts. the shorter stories are more like vignettes with beautiful imagery and motifs (as my friend kate observed) but they don’t have the substance to merit short story status. the longer stories are considerably longer and read like unfinished novellas. yet, all of them explore the struggles that come with asian-americanness (and implicitly, how that relates to americanness in general).

in “duncan in china,” jen gives us duncan, a character (a loser, really) who goes back to china in a noble effort to understand more of his heritage. in “chin,” an unnamed figure spies on the chinese neighbors, a family so bizarre and tragic in their alienation. “in the american society” is about a well-to-do chinese-american family who tries to live the american dream; they own a pancake house and the mother tries to gain membership to the country club. this plotline is, of course, in complete contrast to the subplot about illegal chinese workers the family has hired.

though there are a couple of duds in the anthology (“house, house, home” being the most duddy), who’s irish? is worth a gander, especially for readers who wish to understand (or begin to understand) the plights of immigrants and their families. gish jen is certainly one of the more promising writers out there who try to give a literary voice to people like me.

i had a conversation with ros last saturday about dieting. ros is a person i highly respect not only because she’s smart (she’s very science-y), but she’s also mature. she described to me this no-carb diet (i assume, something like the atkins diet) where you can eat anything you want as long as you don’t touch foods with carbohydrates. i grilled her about all the foods i like.

“no potatoes, no carrots, no corn,” she said. “what about rice?” “no rice.” uh-huh. ros is chinese and so am i. i thought about my life without rice; it didn’t seem very likely. and i love to snack on bread. paris baguette (a widespread korean bakery chain) and i are quite close. no bread, no white rice, no potatoes, no corn, no pasta, no noodles…what the hell am i supposed to eat? “just meat and vegetables. and dairy and nuts. and best of all, you can eat things that are so bad for you, like a whole stick of butter, and you’ll still lose weight.” i hate butter.

during the conversation i also learned that 50% of milk is carbohydrates and that raw potatoes aren’t carbs until they’re cooked. very interesting. you see, i’ve always eaten whatever i want, and because i’m my mother’s son, i don’t gain very much weight. even as i speak of being a fat cow now, i’m really not overweight.

however, i do want to be healthier with what i eat because a) we have diabetes in our family, b) i’m getting older, and c) i would love to look more fit (that’s something i’ve always struggled with). after listening to ros’s description of the diet, which she claimed was the “fastest way to lose weight and get toned,” i looked at it like it as a challenge. and i love challenges. give me a 10,000-piece jigsaw puzzle any day and i’ll have it done for you by midnight.

i tried out the no-carbs thing sunday—it. was. hard. i can’t imagine eating out ever again because everything has complex carbs in it. bibimbap, kimbap, ddeokbokki, jjajangmyeon, twigim, tonkatsu…favorite foods we’re talking about. for dinner, the significant other and i went to a pork kalbi restaurant. i ate the grilled pork ribs with vegetables, normal as always. when the rice and jjigae (soup) came at the end of the meal, i didn’t touch the rice. i sat there as the significant other ate my portion. i almost cried.

we went to e-mart today and i got all these wonderful meats and veggies and salad components (and nuts to snack on). i was starving so we had lunch in the cafeteria. that posed a huge problem. the only dish that didn’t seem to have a high carbohydrate count in it was bibimbap. we ordered a huge bowl of it to share, and i sat there picking out the meat and vegetables with chopsticks. the longer i sat there the more painful it got. it was so not fair. finally, i buckled under the temptation and ate seven or eight spoonfuls of the mixed rice. it was delicious.

white rice is one of those bad carbs. i’m not really disappointed in myself for caving at that moment, but i did learn that this diet is going to be tough. well, what isn’t difficult about losing weight? i’m still going to the gym, and i hope that the no to low carb diet will just be a guide for my daily food intake. i know i’m not going to be able to avoid all carbs, but as long as i have it in my mind that i shouldn’t be eating any, that at least will warn me against entering paris baguette to buy pastries. sweet sweet pastries.

we’ll see how this thing goes.

7 for 8, which is still pretty good, but not great. missed penelope cruz for supporting actress even though all the pundits thought her a shoo-in. i dunno, i was just expecting a surprise or two in the winners circle. also slumdog millionaire was the big winner with eight trophies, not seven.

shame on OCN for not broadcasting the live telecast this year (they did last year). i resorted to a streaming live feed an hour into the ceremonies; i’ll most likely download the high-def quality version later tonight to see the opening number which, my friends tell me, is spectacular.

i haven’t seen many of the oscar-nominated films. most of them are available to me, but i just haven’t had the chance to sit down and watch them all. tomorrow morning (in korea) is the big night, so, even though i’m just guessing here, below are my predictions for the academy awards.

big 8 categories

• best picture: slumdog millionaire
• best director: danny boyle
• best actor: sean penn
• best actress: kate winslet
• best supporting actor: heath ledger
• best supporting actress: viola davis
• adapted screenplay: slumdog millionaire
• original screenplay: milk

slumdog millionaire will be the big winner with 7 wins (picture, director, adapted screenplay, cinematography, editing, original score, and song).

last year, i was 8 for 8. this year…who knows?

the next morning i woke up early and, while waiting for the better half to wake up, caught an episode of grey’s anatomy from season three. my, how the mighty hath fallen. seriously. seriously!

goals for the day were few—purchase souvenirs, eat lunch, return to daegu. we hopped in a cab and asked about well-known restaurants that served traditional korean food. as expected, the taxi driver, of the jinju breed, was less than enthusiastic to recommend a place. we consulted our travel resources and decided on arirang restaurant (아리랑 식당).

the cab dropped us off a few feet from the northern shore of the nam river. it was 11:00am, and the nearby arirang restaurant, like most korean eateries, wouldn’t be serving for another half hour. thus, we took a walk on the shore of the splendid river, where on the banks were areas for exercise. more often than not, korean waterways (such as rivers) are flanked by outdoor, public sports facilities where one can find running tracks, bike paths, gymnastics equipment, pull-up bars, sand pits, etc.

ajummas and ajusshis (middle aged men and women) freely utilized all that was available—how nice for them to take advantage of this newly constructed area instead of having to work on weekday mornings. eventually, posing for pictures proved boring even after we practiced tyra banks’s “1, 2, 3—bam” trick (to prevent the sun from burning a hole through our retinas). and we were starving.

arirang restaurant was hidden in an alleyway that was way less grand than the ivy-covered restaurant itself. an establishment of modest size, the space consisted of a few private rooms. the server, dressed in traditional korean garb (called a hanbok), slid open a door to one of these rooms; before us were a table low to the ground and white chairs. very funereal, i thought.

we decided on the ₩70,000 han jeong sik (한정식), a korean-style table d’hôte. the meal began with a few appetizers, really delicate, clean, bite-sized portions and—dare i say it—dollops of this and that (mostly colorful veggies and seafood). then there was another round of small dishes with deeper, more complicated flavors. as the meal progressed, the portions got bigger and the food more adventurous (and subsequently for me, less edible); one dish was so adventurous, a type of fish that reeked of urine, that we had to send it back. slightly embarrassing, i know. the number of dishes used to serve us this one meal (maybe around sixty?) was pretty ridiculous. i’m really glad, and fortunate, to have had experienced this extravagance (and also grateful that i am not the dishwasher there). will i voluntarily eat han jeong sik again? sure, but on someone else’s dime.

on the way back to the bus terminal (on the south side of the river), i saw some construction sites for apartments. outside of the barricades were signs for jinju that read “charm jinju.” oh, that’s the logo of the city, i was reminded. and next to the “charm jinju” graphic was the korean “참 jinju.” clever. the word 참 in korean means “truth” or “real” and is pronounced cham. a charming play on phonetics.

i did almost everything i wanted to do in jinju, but i did not get any souvenirs. the fortress and lake did not offer gift shops, and only convenience stores were near the bus terminal. disappointing, seeing as how i would’ve liked to have gotten something for my friend kate, who lives in eugene, oregon (sister city of jinju).

how would i summarize the city? well, its citizens definitely should work on being proud of, and knowledgeable about, the place. after all, who wouldn’t be proud of a city that has a courtesan as its symbol? that alone makes jinju worth visiting. for a day or two.

we went to jinyang lake (진양호) right before sunset on monday. it seems like everywhere you go in jinju by taxi it costs ₩5000 (flagfall is ₩2200, compared to daegu’s ₩1800)—₩5000 and not a lot of help.

“is there any place other than jinju fortress that we should see?” we would inquire the driver. “no, not really,” they’d reply without hesitation. “what about the lake?” “well, there’s that. there’s a zoo there, and jinju land, but jinju land is pretty bad.” “isn’t there a watch tower there?” “i’m not sure.” dudes, not a way to sell your city.

the cab dropped us off at the foot of a hill. as we climbed up we saw what appeared to be the remnants of a carnival—a miniature roller coaster, some teacup ride—which turned out to be jinju land. why would anyone—least of all, my brochures—advertise this dispirited place? i felt sorry for it like i feel sorry for caged monkeys.

in the distance we saw the zoo, but seeing as how it was after five, it was closed and deserted. that was fortunate, for i dislike zoos in general (again, the caged monkeys). learn about animals on tv, people; why do you need to see their sad little faces up close and personal? adopt a dog, for christ’s sake!

at the top of the hill (which, since i haven’t mentioned already, was on top of a mountain) we saw a structure that reminded me of something one would find on a south floridian beach. it looked kind of like a three-story, oceanfront motel, but without the rooms, just the skeletons. apparently visitors, especially lovers, come here (the observation deck) to view the sunrise or sunset. maybe in the summer, they tan. from the top we could visually explore the calm, manmade lake, a beauty, and took pictures.

we made our way down using the “one year staircase” (일년계단)—exactly 365 steps to the bottom (yes, we counted). part of the way was enclosed by circular, rib-like architecture that at night probably lit the entire path, much like a love tunnel.

back at the foot of the hill where we started, we called for a taxi to take us back to civilization, then killed time by playing one of those claw machines my older sister loves so much. after ₩1200, i struck gold—a chicken bear (more specifically, a bear in a chicken suit)! yes—i went all the way to jinju and all i got was a chicken bear.

back in downtown, we strongly considered seeing she’s just not that into you but later realized that we most likely would not be so into the film. instead we played at an arcade and ate an unhealthy dinner at lotteria. soon we went in search of a motel; the cabbie dropped us off near the deulmal (들말) apartments, where we were told motels were plentiful.

renaissance-themed amiga hotel charged us ₩40,000 for the night and provided us with drinking water, cable tv, a refrigerator, robes, towels, toiletries, and best of all, a bath tub. i hadn’t had a real bath in over a year, so i took full advantage of the hotel’s supply of hot water and bubbles. having had to walk for most of the day, we turned in before midnight, knackered.

after touring jinju fortress, we made a stop at the information booth located in front of the north gate. there, we picked up some maps of the city as well as brochures that advertised restaurants. we called one of the recommended eateries, je-il restaurant (제일식당). the conversation went something like this: “yes, we’re near the jinju fortress.” “the restaurant is near there. ask someone.” “um…okay.” did they not want customers?

anyway, we decided that that was a bust, so we went in search of jungang market (중앙시장). at this moment, i realized that the significant other would be really awful as my partner on the amazing race, not that the show would want us anyway. since i can glance at a map and get the gist of it, i led the way to the bustling market, our logic being that markets are usually crowded with cheap and delicious restaurants.

as we passed the garment and seafood districts, we found je-il restaurant tucked quietly between other unassuming establishments. we double-checked the number to see that it was the restaurant we had called earlier. it was. “why didn’t they just say they were inside the market?”

the restaurant, which has been featured on korea’s “delicious tv,” is famous for a special type of bibimbap (rice mixed with veggies and red pepper paste) called ggotbap (꽃밥, or “flower rice”). this special version, the jinju version, of the common bibimbap distinguishes itself by using raw meat. now i’m not very adventurous with food (i’m one of those predictable fellows who orders the same thing every time), and i certainly limit my intake of raw protein (i dislike sushi very much), but we were in another city, so i said bring it on!

the server brought us our bowls. “my, it looks pretty,” i said, nervously eyeing the bright red strips of what i assumed was beef. bibimbap needs to be mixed, so i mixed the sucker well. i was expecting strong flavors because of the strong colors, but the ggotbap was unexpectedly smooth. in fact, all the food on the table, from the soup to the side dishes to the rice, was soft. it was really delicious and the flavors so subtle. [one ggotbap = ₩6,000]

after lunch, we explored downtown jinju, which is not so different from downtown pohang or downtown daegu or even downtown seoul; it’s just on a smaller scale. i felt right at home amongst the college students (some 30% of the city’s population is students), and of course, i judged their fashion ::shakes head::. we took a break in a coffeeshop and ate some street food. we asked residents what else there was to do…they didn’t seem all too excited about their city, but did mention a lake nearby.

so we got in a cab and headed towards jinyang lake.

we bought some crackers and drinks for the two hour-plus bus ride to jinju. midway, the bus pulled over at a rest stop and we bought more snacks and drinks. i did a 360 and took in all the mountains. between cities, korea is just a series of mountain landscapes. tall, green, majestic mountains.

i admire the way koreans keep developed areas separate from natural settings. one can find a perfectly untouched mountain right in middle of a big city. and they keep historial monuments, like temples, so preserved, as well.

as we entered jinju city limits, i noticed how clean everything was. “it’s a small city; they don’t even have things to trash it,” my partner in crime commented. at the bus terminal, we got harassed by a stream of cab drivers asking whether or not we were going to the air force base. apparently, many of the soldiers on holiday leave were returning.

and what a good day to come back. a cold front hit korea on sunday, and we were feeling the effects; a crisp, blue day in the negatives. refreshing. since the sun was still high and my energy level was up, i wanted to see the famed jinju fortress (진주성) before lunch.

admission was ₩1,000 per person, and got us entrance to the grounds of chokseongnu (촉석루), fondly called the “no. 1 pavilion of the yongnam region.” it is located on the north side of the sparkling nam river (남강), and is home to several shrines, monuments, temples, the jinju national museum and the famed “righteous rock” (ui-am, 의암).

ui-am is a mid-sized rock situated in the river, on the cusp of the north shore. this is the place where nong-gae (논개), a gisaeng (기생, korean geisha/courtesan), died. during the seven year war in the 16th century, the japanese invaded and occupied jinju fortress. her lover slain in battle, the gisaeng nong-gae was called to entertain the victorious japanese generals. she seduced one, led him to the now-famous rock, embraced him tightly, and threw themselves in the river, drowning them both. sex and tragedy.

i must say, i was a teensy bit disappointed with the size of the rock. all the sources implicated that nong-gae fell from a cliff, so i was expecting something grandiose, a treacherous peak beaten by swirling winds. no…just a rock on a shore. but the story is nice, right? although i, personally, would be a bit uncomfortable with having the image of a courtesan be representative of my hometown, but hey, not everyone is puritanical like me.

the rest of the pavilion was beautiful. the many sites are scattered around the large, peaceful park. it took us a good hour to stroll the entirety of the historical area, which is protected by stone walls. i can imagine it as a film set. it’s such a contrast to be surrounded by old buildings but still be able to see see e-mart sitting on the other side of the wall. [in reference to the picture on the right, i was especially tickled by the sign, "please worship, reverently."]