Hot Diggity Dog!

As a culture consumer, I live by the old adage, "when in Rome...". So it should come as no surprise now that I am in Korea, I should do as the Koreans do. While I haven't been able to see my way clear to actually adopt certain aspects of this culture, like slurping/sucking up noodle dishes, using squat toilets, cutting into a queue or wearing a surgical mask every day, I am compelled to try it all, at least once, so that I can live the experience and contribute my perspective to the world of culture. This is especially true for me when it comes to food!

In the past 4-1/2 months I have purchased kimchi stuffed dumplings, dried squid snacks, red bean paste breads, tofu chips, seaweed coated rice cakes and live fish at various markets. I have tried my hand at preparing Korean dishes at home such as sam gyap sal (grilled pork wrapped in sesame leaves), bibimbab (rice & vegetables with egg on top), kimbap (like a sushi roll of rice, veggies and seaweed), ddok bokki (super spicy street food made of rice cakes, red pepper and green onion), pajeon (very thin omelet made with flour and various vegetables, meats or seafood), bulgogi (marinated meat and vegetables) and sesame seed cookies. When eating at restaurants or from street vendors, I have ordered such dishes as raw fish with boiled quail eggs, grilled octopus, poached pig's tongue, steamed silk worms, bone marrow soup and now, bosintang or dog meat stew!

Now before you go barking up the wrong tree, let me tell you a little about this delicious Korean dish. In keeping with the ancient folk calendar, I ate bosintang (dog meat stew) for lunch on a very hot summer day. Dog meat lovers typically eat bosintang to restore the energy lost during the summer heat. This high protein food is also fed to patients following invasive surgical procedures. This is thought to ensure good health by balancing one's "ki" or vital energy of the body. The primary dog breed raised for meat, the Nureongi, is a kind of mix-breed dog, and differs greatly from those breeds raised for pets which Koreans keep in their homes. So never fear -- Spot, Rover and Fluffy are all safe.

While there is much controversy over this canine consumption issue, and each side has found itself in the doghouse on occasion, eating dog meat is simply a part of the traditional and contemporary culture of Korea. Therefore, it is my preference to let sleeping dogs lie, and I encourage any carnivore visiting Korea to get a taste of the "dog days of summer".

Ultimate Birthday in Ulsan

Just as I finished the teacher-training session on Friday night, I hailed a taxi and headed straight for Daejeon station to catch the KTX (Korea's high-speed express train) to Ulsan. The hazy heat of the day hung in the air under a white sky threatening to spring a leak and douse all of Daejeon at any moment. Perched in a pool of sweat on Platform 10 waiting for my train to arrive, I briefly pondered the thought of whether rain was expected in Ulsan -- the east coast, seaside city where I would spend my birthday weekend with dear friends from graduate school. "Who cares" was the most spirited response I could muster after such an emotionally charged week of professional and personal celebrations. My goal was to get there, get some rest and get on with the good times.

One transfer, two trains and three hours later, I exited into the open arms of Ulsan (and, of course, Heejin and Jo). The wet and winding road to the cottage we had rented took us through the spacious streets of downtown, past sprawling pastures of greenbelt area and into the hilly heights that overlook the East Sea. I was eager to settle into the room and although I had just arrived, I liked everything about the place -- the tropical backdrop of mountains and sea, the rustic wooden bungalow building, the cozy coastal-style furnishings, and most of all, the tiny outdoor deck jutting into the crescent common area shared with the other guest quarters. It all reminded me of a sweet little suite where I spent more than a week of sunny, seaside mornings on the island of St. Maarten some 4 years ago.

I awoke earlier than the others and took a cup of tea outside to get a glimpse of the grounds now drenched in daylight. While sitting at the picnic table I was suddenly serenaded with the Korean version of "Happy Birthday" and presented with a mini-cheesecake topped with a kaleidoscope of fruit. Ah, breakfast had arrived! We quickly laid waste to the cake and made haste to our first destination of the day -- Seokguram Grotto and Bulguksa Temple.

Tucked away on the slopes of Mount T'oham, the Seokguram Grotto houses a monumental statue of the Buddha looking at the sea in the bhumisparsha mudra position (the gesture of touching the earth). This majestic figure was carved from granite with surrounding portrayals of gods, Bodhisattvas and disciples, all realistically and delicately sculpted in 751 A.D. Mesmerized and motionless, I stood before this "Master of Peace" masterpiece and felt not dwarfed in its presence, but rather grand and serene, and somehow more convinced of the goodness of human nature.

Feeling full of goodness from our Bulgogi Alfresco lunch, we trekked toward the most famous temple in South Korea, Bulguksa ("Temple of the Buddha Land"). We entered this cloistered compound via a double-sectioned staircase and 2 bridges. The staircase has a 45-degree slope and 33 steps total, corresponding to the 33 steps to enlightenment. After climbing the stairs and crossing the Cheongungyo (Blue Cloud Bridge) and the Baegungyo (White Cloud Bridge), I did feel a bit enlightened...or was it light-headed. Either way, the sheer size and artistic abundance of this national treasure was staggering.

Standing side by side in the main courtyard were 2 pagodas, one simple and plain with clean lines and angles; the other quite ornate with robust reliefs of lotus flowers and lion heads. An unusual sight in the Buddhist tradition, this remarkable pair of pagodgas is said to be a manisfestation of the Buddha's simultaneous contemplation and detachment from the world.


Having contemplated the history of this region, it was time to detach from this palace of the past and plant ourselves in the present -- the here and now of Hwangnam bread, Hite beer and basking on Chong Ja beach. Hwangnam bread is a famous delicacy in this historical region called Gyeongju, and the original factory is a "must see". This petite little roll is stuffed with red bean paste and baked to golden perfection. On any given day, factory customers might have to wait for hours to sample and purchase these tasty treats. However, late in the day on my birthday, we were able to walk right in and dig into the hot, fresh deliciousness displayed before us. I was occupied with accounting for the ingredients and baking process while Heejin was busy buying boxes of the baked goods to bestow upon friends and family back in Seoul.

Beach bound in the back seat of Jo's car, I hung my head out the window like a dog struggling to focus on and breathe in the seaside scenery racing by me. The coastal road was reminiscent of every other shore drive I've ever been on, but perhaps my excitement had to do with listening to the lively chatter of an unfamiliar language coming from within the vehicle or the fact that every hill and turn was an unknown that held out the promise of an adventure yet to be had. Or perhaps it had something to do with my birthday and what I was learning about myself: that I was a naturally optimistic and curious person. Whatever the case, I became a sponge and soaked up the certain and positive feelings of freedom, confidence and glory.

We arrived at Chong Ja beach with no real agenda or regard for time, but "ever-ready Jo" was equipped with all the essentials: blanket, beer and basking time. Each of us found our own way to get in sync with the setting sun and enjoy the transition from revelry to relaxation. So, for the next hour or so, the Koreans exchanged electronic communication with people far and wide while I built pebble-sized pagodas and pondered the possibility of squinting hard enough to see Japan on the watery horizon.



Meandering our way back to the cottage, our day melted into an evening of the most wonderful melange of music, meals and merriment. We took turns showering, selecting music and preparing food. With Allie Smith crooning from inside the cottage, and pork bellies and baby octopus sizzling on the grill, and the perpetual pouring of red and white wine, no finer dining could have been had than this particular communal festive feast of Korean BBQ (which I like to think stands for "Birthday Bash [for a] Queen)! That night was one of the easiest and most comfortable evolutions that ever occurred to me. I was completely balanced between the ceremony and celebration of turning another year older, and didn't feel the need to prove, or gain approval for anything about me, my stage or my age. I was just simply (enjoying) myself!



With so little time left together, our Sunday agenda needed to be scheduled with special times to savor ever after. So, following a long, leisurely lingering at the hot springs spa overlooking the East Sea, we treated ourselves to the freshest of 'alfresco' dining -- the Chong Ja fish market! Wide-eyed and wandering up the wet aisle of this rare and raw market of water vertebrates, we were reeled in by the most charming of merchants who netted us 4 different kinds of fresh white fish, and in the usual Korean tradition, threw in 2 live, exotic delicacies for free. Once the piscine promoter had procured our purchase, she went about gutting, cleaning and chopping our "fish du jour" and promptly sent it to the affiliated restaurant located directly behind the market for serving. The ultimate result was a divine dish of raw fish, raw veggies... and raw humor as the 3 of us devoured the sensational sashimi in record time and on recorded 'film'.

Fish Food?

After a long and busy week there's nothing more relaxing than soaking in a hot tub, stretching out in a sauna or splurging on a special spa treatment, which is exactly what I did last Sunday evening. While visiting a new-to-me jimjibang, I scrubbed down, soaked in a medicinal herb bath, steamed out Saturday night's toxins and then shelled out 3000 won (approximately $2.40) to be eaten alive by hundreds of fish! Although it may sound gruesome, you can dispel any visions of piranha-like flesh stripping. This exotic and exquisite experience was the ultimate in spa treatments for a woman with a personal foot fetish. So, for 30 minutes I sat and dangled my feet in a tank full of Garra rufa, a species of fish that gently nibble and bite away dead skin, leaving me with perfectly smooth and soft tootsies. As gingerly as I submerged my feet into the cool clear water, these tiny nibblers feasted on my flesh until my ecstasy turned into peals of laughter and I had to periodically interrupt this piscine pedicure. The sensation was something between hundreds of tweezers and tiny suction cups gently pecking at my toes, heals and arches. While this special spa service was nothing that a brisk pumice stone couldn't achieve, it was far more fetish-fulfilling and fun!