GUEST "TEACHING" IN SOUTH KOREA

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Our Canadian friend James teaches elementary school in Masan, a little country town outside of Busan.  We met James a month before we went to Korea, at a hostel in Taipei, but in order to accompany him to school, we had to tell the other teachers that we were all the best of childhood friends from Canada.  In order to convince James to bring us along, we promised him we’d teach a lesson so we could all look like idiots together, speaking slowly in front of Korean children. 

Read did not bring socks to school.  This was a big mistake.  James explained that if you don’t wear socks with your teacher slippers in Korea, you basically look like a homeless person.  Read seemed unconvinced until a lady teacher walked past us, gasped at Read’s bare homeless feet and literally yelled, no socks!  We had to run to the convenience store to buy socks before class began.  They looked great, like socks from a 7-11 across from a rural Korean school.

It’s also important to know that tattoos are not allowed to be shown at Korean school, so James wears this great bandage and lets all the children assume he’s been in a terrible burn accident.

(Please note the enormous busts sitting on the shelf.  They are of two obscure Florentine noblemen accompanied by one foot.  An essential learning device for Korean kindergarten)

James teaches three lessons a day, ascending in age groups, so Read got to give his power point presentation thrice.  It begins with an introduction:

James had the kids guess where Read is from.  I kid you not, every single one of them guessed America.  Next they guessed where I was from.  Answers included India, Pakistan, The Philippines, and my favorite guess – Saudi Arabia.  James later informed me that Koreans all want light skin, so all these guesses were highly offensive.

Finally, we tell the kids I’m American and no one believes me.  We move along.  Read explains that New York is a city:

That New York is his home:

But before New York, Read explains that he and James grew up together in Canada, with a childhood school picture to prove their closeness and long time bond:

Read identified himself as the bowl cut boy in the middle of the first row, next to the albino kid. 

We then begin an elaborate game of making the children guess which 1890’s schoolboy is James:

The Kindergarteners loved it.  The second graders were dubious.  The fifth graders thought we were full of shit.  The important thing is that we Canadians had a great time.

So, my turn to teach arrives and let’s be real, I was sleeping off my soju while Read was making his power point the night before.  I’m going to teach the kids MASH. 

But at the board, I panic.  I ask James if it’s socially acceptable for me to teach them the difference between a mansion and a shack (for those of you who did not attend elementary school in the 90s, rules here).  Can I put the names of the boys in the class on the board as this little Korean girl’s future husbands?  James the Canadians is like, THAT’S what MASH is?!  It's a no.

So, we start playing the worst game of MASH ever, with no MASH along the top and three inoffensive categories, great for elementary schoolers in a conservative Asian country: favorite foods, types of clothing, colors.  It makes absolutely no god damn sense.  After ten minutes of “playing the game”, I reveal the girl’s future as, “you will eat steak in a sweater and you love yellow” and all the kids are like WTF.

But we brought the kids candy, so in the end they forgot about the American guy who lied to them and the Saudi girl who taught them the wackest game ever. 

It was pretty exhausting.  Props to James-Teacher (the kids call him that like it’s his last name)!

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KOREA THROUGH SOJU GOGGLES

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Koreans drink heavily. So in order to experience the local culture, so do we.

Most heavy drinking starts in a BBQ joint like this:

You order 2 or 3 plates of meat (like $5-8 each), and the service begins. They lower a fresh pot of hot coals into the middle of the table and set the grill on top. Then they flood your table with accompanying dishes: kimchi, a soup, pickled vegetables, a pile of lettuce to make wraps, and a variety of dipping sauces for the meat.

But despite the bounty of food, it’s all secondary to the expected self-affliction through soju and beer. They don't even serve rice because carbs soak up alcohol and the point is to drink.

We take shots of soju (Korea’s rice vodka) and chase with crap beer that tastes like the end of a budweiser keg.  But since soju is only 20 percent alcohol, we and everyone around us just keep taking shots, eating meat, and throwing back beer until about this point:

It’s right around this time on one of our nights in Busan that we decide we’re ready for the challenge our Canadian friend and host, James (pictured poorly above), has proposed for us. On the market street nearby is a restaurant that specializes in a particular type of seafood.  We sit and James orders beer, soju and a plate of sannakji.

Sannakji (sa-NA-chee) starts with a live octopus and a butcher’s knife, and ends with a plate of unseasoned, uncooked, wriggling tentacles. They are fully alive, but chopped into bite-size pieces. Here:

Yes, it comes with a sauce. But that sauce is just sesame oil with salt. And when there’s a live tentacle sucking on your tongue, sesame oil and salt are really not enough. 

Not recommended more than once, or sober.

My gag reflex starts kicking in after watching Cecily succumb to a dare and down a large pulsating spoonful, so we decide it’s time to pay and leave. We float on to a 7-11 where we find young Koreans buying soju, pre-portioned cups of ice, and flavor packets. So we follow suit and drink our Korean koolaid in the street…Through some transportive powers contained in the flavor packets or the soju, James and I end up on an elephant with two Korean dudes who are interested in more than friendship:

We manage to escape the Korean manwich, and it’s concluded that our livers are maxed out--time to hit up the jjimjilbang. The jjimjilbang (JIM-ja-bong), is a public bathhouse that is a late night tradition for many Koreans. We arrive at the reception desk where we pay the $7 entrance fee and we’re given a key and a baby blue uniform (Cecily gets a pink one). Cecily goes to the women’s side, and James and I to the men’s. Along with lockers, the locker room also houses a great lounge space for watching TV in comfort:

James and I disrobe and walk freely across the lounge and through a set of doors into the bath-room. There’s a series of tubs, from cold to very hot down the middle of the room, and along the sides are Korean dudes strattling plastic stools, letting it all hang out in front of vanities, scrubbing their dead skin off. There’s a carton of smoked eggs sitting out that James informs me are freely provided for jjimjilbangers to heat in the hot baths before they peal and eat them. Yes.

The black mold on the tile ceiling starts to look like it’s growing towards us so we get out to meet Cecily in the co-ed area. We change into our baby blue terry cotton v-neck shirt and elastic-waist shorts and like a couple of newborns, make our way to the next area.

In the coed room, it's a huge space with heated floors and Koreans in pink and blue sleeping on mats in every corner (still not totally sure why people sleep here). On one side is a small counter where you can order some food and there are a few massage chairs occupied by some saggy faced old men. It's way too hot for our particular condition so we move outside to the balcony.

My last memory of the evening is from floor level on the balcony, the three of us agreeing how Koreans make the softest concrete.

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TOKYO'S TSUKIJI FISH MARKET

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The Tsukiji Fish Market is the largest in the world and when you're there, you definitely know it. 

Technically, tourists aren't allowed in until after 9am, when most of the commerce is finished, but Read, being the good-natured racist that he is, figured because I am Asian, we could sneak in.  So we did, and while we got in and out safely, we REALLY got mean mugged.

After an hour of dodging this terrifying policeman,

we had the customary 9AM fish market breakfast.  

It was life changing.  We can barely talk about it.

Blame it on the adrenaline, but it was hands down our best meal in Japan.

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SUSHI IN JAPAN: READ'S STEPS FOR SUCCESS

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Every day at 7PM, in markets all across Japan, the man with the hat gets out his stickers and starts marking down all the sushi.

Crowds gather.  The excitement is palpable.

He starts by taking off 100 yen ($1) and people start rummaging through the stacks, anticipation and aggression building.

Half an hour later, at 7:30, the 200 yen stickers get going and the crowd gets pretty excited.  The stacks become askew from commotion. 

At 7:45, he'll throw another dollar at you.  300 yen.  Damn, that's a pretty good deal, right?  For most Asians, this is it.  They go home now.

But, if you are Read, who will not back down in the face of any deal, you will still be following the man in the hat at 8:15pm.  Your girlfriend will be sitting in a folding chair on the perimeter of the fish department because the hat man, as well as the locals, are starting to think you're fucking creepy.

In the end, you "win", because at 8:15pm the 50% off stickers make their big debut.

But, as your girlfriend will continue to remind you, you also lose, because you're a white guy lurking in a Japanese fish department for over an hour.

Now, if you're severely demented and have no concept of when to quit, you will buy a piece of uncut salmon among the many packages of salmon sashimi because it "looks the best", despite the fact that you live in a closet sized hotel room with no knife.

You will remember the 100 yen store nearby.  You will buy a Silky Chef.

 And three hours later, you will high five your girlfriend over your bounty.  Congratulations.  You are the happiest Jew in all of Japan. 

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THE CRAZY ASS FOOD SCENE THAT IS TAIPEI

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We ate everything you see here in 3 days. That makes us either superheroes or fat pigs. You decide.

Churning out dough balls to drop in the fry pot

The final product -- springy sweet dough balls in the cutest bag

She seemed nice, but her foods were pretty gnarly...

For those of you who know how large Cecily's head is....well this fried chicken was enormous.

Digging into the $2 piece of chickengasm.

   

Cream

Red Bean

He makes bomb scallion pancakes

These are them

The best goddamned beef noodle soup you will ever eat.

Spicy Wontons

Pork noodle

Spicy Cucumbers

Soy bean sprout salad

Pork and Crab Soup Dumplings (Xiaolongbao)

They may not look like much, but these were seriously the best sesame noodles either of us had ever had. And off a plastic bag!

He's a big Solt Lake City fan. And he makes fried things on sticks.

We got the seafood balls

This was amazing to watch being made. It started the size of a golf ball and ballooned in the oil...
Through a misunderstanding, I accidentally bought 5.

There were tons of crazy bakeries...

These hot dogs were very shiny

I miss this one. It was redonk.

They put hot dogs in everything

This is Sushi Express. 

Every plate is $1

Mmmm

We got a lot of plates

And after sushi, it's time for a pussy coffee.

The many shapes of stinky tofu

Beautiful fruit

Animal parts on sticks

Looks like tasty dumplings, right?

Just wait until he unloads the jelly. These were not good.

Single-bite Sausages

Braised pork and mushroom rice

Crab Thick Soup. More thick than crab.

Night market sushi. $2 for roe, scallop, eel and two uni (sea urchin). 

Tasty skrimps

Literally the best fried oysters you will ever eat. A huge ass pile for $5.

Pick your plates to put into your hot-pot.

When you're ready, a dude will come over and get it going for you and add their special broth.

Then they give you a ladle to stir it so you feel like you did something. And what we made was delicious. 

And when you think you can't eat any more, you eat shaved ice.
It's shaved milk ice with your fruit of choice, and a drizzle of what you hope is condensed milk. Bomb.

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