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!

Journey to Jeolla Nam Do - Day 3

With no daylight savings time, morning comes quite early in Korea. For today, that served me well as I was able to keep my vow of baptism by green tea, which would hopefully keep me afloat through the final adventures of this fantastic journey. The clear night had been replaced by a foggy morning with threats of showers lingering in the clouds above. Thankfully, the heated floor of last night's lodging dried out my shoes and I still had one clean shirt to wear. I rearranged my backpack, hung my hat on my back and headed for the hills...the green tea hills again. Boseong is the green tea capital of Korea with several thousand acres of green tea fields that grow from the sea to the the mountain peaks. With only 14 of us fresh enough to participate, the bus delivered us to the Daehan Dawon hills before anyone else was even out of bed. We were told that picture taking is much better early in the morning, but you be the judge.

I literally had to be dragged away from this bountiful beauty, as the bus driver (and official shepherd) sent a fellow traveler to fetch the "little white lamb" (me) from the fields. There was no time to linger as the day's docket had 3 more dynamic destinations before we would make the trek back to Seoul. As I boarded the bus, there were deliberations already underway as to how to make the most of the day, but avoid the holiday traffic in order to return by a decent hour (as everyone had to work the next day). The group-at-hand opted to omit the visit to a nearby temple, insert an immediate hot breakfast and shorten the stays at the last 2 sights. We had a plan, now it was time for action. The hungry bunch bee-lined for a local restaurant serving typical Korean breakfasts of bibimbap (rice with vegetables and a raw egg on top) and various noodle soups, while the bus driver took the rest of the gang back to the hotel to clean up, get their gear together and goad the others to get going.
In the hour or so it took to reach Damyang, everyone was briefed on the new schedule and agreed that the earlier the arrival the better. Keeping that in mind we made a brief tour of the Juk Nok Won Bamboo forest and saved enough time for a leisurely stroll down the famous Meta Sequoia Tree Lined Road.

Wet, 'walked-out' and weary, most of us were looking forward to a peaceful and quiet ride home. Unfortunately, the late-sleepers gained control of the karaoke screen and found a way to show the movie Iron Man...at full volume! A handful of us were from various places south of Seoul, which meant that we would have to backtrack once we finally arrived. In view of this, we approached the tour director and asked if the bus could drop us off at a rest stop somewhere south of Seoul where we could get taxis to take us to the nearest train station. So, at the final rest stop, 6 of us bailed out of the bus and got our bearings as to where we were exactly -- only an hour from home for any one of us, albeit in different directions. As luck would have it, our location was on a toll road and taxis will not pick up there. Instead, we would have to hike across the highway to the nearest gas station and call for a pick up there. It looked easy enough -- the SK station was directly across from us and someone had spotted an "overpass" just a few meters down the road. So, our troupe trudged through the rain, all 12 eyes searching for the stairs or ramp that would lift us up and over the freeway now frenetic with holiday traffic. All to no avail. There was indeed a path over the road, but it would require scaling a slippery rock wall on this side and then crawling over a chain-link fence lined with green construction mesh on the other. Deflated, but determined, we did an 'about face' and discussed alternative ideas. As we walked along the shoulder of the road, I noticed the rain water pouring down a cement slide in the drainage ditch. So I piped up and pointed out the possibility of an "underpass". One of the traipsers hurdled the guard rail and descended into the tunnel. "Yes" echoed back through the pipe and the rest of us scurried to catch up with her. Once safely on the south-bound side of the toll road, we called for 2 taxis and tried our best Konglish on the service station attendant while we waited. Finally at the train station, 3 of us went north and 3 of us went south -- one more transfer and I would be homeward bound. As our six-pack parted company, I wondered what I would have done if I had been alone on this last adventure of my journey, and all I could think of was: it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun!

Journey to Jeolla Nam Do - Day 2

I awoke sometime after daybreak, but decided to snooze a bit longer in an effort to make up for the upright, seated sleep that I tried to get while on the bus the night before. With four of us padded down on the floor of a room about the size of a walk-in closet, the three shortest butted up against each other in a parallel fashion, and the tallest laying perpendicular at our feet, no one dared be the first to make a move...or a sound. So, I lay in stillness doing morning eye-calisthenics around this antiquated architecture called a chogajip. Traditionally, this hut-like house with its rice-thatched roof was built and occupied by commoners, and this morning proved no different. It was only appropriate since the start of our second day of the journey was here in the middle of Nagan Traditional Folk Village. As soon as someone else stirred, I followed suit, and peered out a window to catch a glimpse of this village (dating back to the 1800's) as it came to life with town 'folk' going about their morning chores. For me, a quick, cold shower outside, a change of soggy clothes and a dixie cup of tepid tea, and I was off to join in the morning rituals of the village. There was a light mist coming down that soon turned into steady rain. Dancing to dodge raindrops and the puddles that were now forming in the dirt roads, I hip-hopped into a small shop where a family was minding the store while eating their breakfast of hot steaming noodles. Immediately, I spotted the perfect umbrella -- a conical hat with chin strap and a brim wider than my shoulders! It must be the traditional Korean farmer's hat, I thought. It was the perfect solution at the perfect price, so I donned my new rain gear and took off to turn up more traditional treasures. In the short time I had to spend there, I found treasures not only in the shops, but also in the people, the scenery, the culture and the incredible wonders of this way of life.

Back on the bus the windows were fogged over and the rain pelted the glass creating an abstract painting of whatever the landscape was outside. There were swirls of brown, gray and green and blurs of white and pale blue, and an occasional stained glass effect whenever we passed the random town. When we finally came to a stop somewhere high in the hills, a rich and brilliant shade of green was all I could see for miles. The endless rows of green tea bushes looked like a giant blanket of plush, wide-wail corduroy had been draped down the mountainside. As a huge tea aficionado, this was the highlight of the trip for me -- I would soon be in those hills, hand-picking green tea leaves, drying, roasting and rolling the leaves to my heart's content, and preparing my own batch of organic green tea to take with me to enjoy at my leisure. After the hands-on processing activity, I would then learn about, and participate in, a Korean tea ceremony. To say that I was in my element is an understatement! In fact, at this point, I was certain that Heaven is not white and waiting for me, it is green and lush and I have already arrived -- I have passed through the pearly gates into the Organic Gold Tea Estate! So, here in my Heaven on Earth, I steeped myself in learning the practice and honoring the rituals involved in the making of this divine drink. I felt the whole experience to be much like the tea I helped to create -- rich, exotic, golden, refreshing, and oh so easy to drink in.

Having spent the "better part" of the day at the green tea estate soaking up knowledge and experience and being drenched in tradition and history, not to mention the pouring rain and ankle-deep mud, we made a brief stop at the Gangjin Celadon Museum. Celadon is a type of pottery that is light green (celery colored) and is famous for the Goryeo Dynasty and is easily recognized in museum and shops around the world. However, this experience was not just another sight-seeing mission, but yet another hands-on activity in which I was allowed to carve my own design into the side of an unfired cup that will be processed to completion and shipped to me in a few weeks. I don't claim to have any artistic ability, but after the heavenly experience earlier, it was as if the angels of art were released through my fingers. The black clay was cool and soft in my left hand, and the carving tool seemed to take on a life of its own as it penetrated and pared out a perfect sideways-cascading plum tree branch with the words, "Land of the Morning Calm" resting under its delicate arm. Okay...I know... the proof is in the pottery. For now, I will just have to rely on the old adage, "good things come to those who wait" (and will keep you posted:>).
It was just after 7pm when we arrived at our accommodations for the night. The itinerary promised a complete opposite of the straw shack of the night before. Tonight we would bed down in a condo-hotel overlooking Yulpo Beach and be treated to a 50% discount at the exclusive jimjibang (pronounced: jim-jee-bong; it means a bathhouse/sauna/spa). As I have become a jimjibang junkie here in Korea, I opted out of the reserved dinner of spicy tofu stew, and immersed myself into the boiling brown bubbles of a green tea bath. For the next 45 minutes, I alternated my basking and bathing between the tubs of gurgling green tea and bubbling buoyant seawater. Unfortunately, our agenda was not in alignment with the operation hours of the hotel facilities, so a few minutes before 8pm, with my body afloat, but slowing sinking in the draining water of the sea tub, I vowed to get up early tomorrow and begin my day in my usual way -- drinking up, and relishing in, green tea!

That night, my 3 roommates and I spent a glorious evening sharing our stories of what brought us to Korea, what we hoped to get from the experience and how we were handling the whole matter. A diverse yet connected quad of independent women made for a lively and lovely gab fest that went on for more than 4 hours, although it seemed much shorter. But then time always telescopes when you put four women together who are eager to share what's on their minds. Through the course of conversation, I was especially enchanted by two of them. Both were strong and sure and sensitive. They were calm and considerate and projected positive energy. I found them so engaging, so inspiring and quite full of humor. When the four of us exchanged "good nights", it was almost midnight, but I lay awake with the indigo sky spilling into the room casting a blue net over our 4 stark white duvets lined up on the ondol floor. I remembered a quote from a Hallmark card that I received recently that said, "It's the friends we meet along life's path who help us appreciate the journey". Truer words were never written. With a sincere sense of satisfaction, I smiled, rolled over and went to sleep.