Time moves forward but some things remain frozen in time

Far too exhausted to put real thoughts together after over 18-hours in transit from Seoul to Toronto. I did, however, happen to stumble upon an old piece of writing that is both meaningful in its content and appropriate to my return home.

Hope you enjoy:

Written on February 12, 2009:

Each Chapter Builds New Life

Eight o’clock in the morning on December 12, 1999. A plough growls as it shoves a dense pile of snow towards the curb outside 18 St. Hildas Ave. in Toronto. As the sun’s rays creep through cotton ball clouds I find myself staring out of the bay window in the living room where I’ve spent the past eight and a half years of my life.

I can make out the slight reflection of the room behind me in the window panes. The room is empty, except for a few garment boxes strewn about the dark hard wood floor. My dad cautiously approaches as he firmly grasps my shoulder. “You ready to go monkey?” he asks. A deep breath exudes from my 13-year-old frame as I take one last look at my childhood. “It’s a bit too late to back down now, eh?” I sigh, knowing that it’s time.

My move from Toronto to Chicago was not the first in my life and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, although, in many ways it was the most meaningful. While it was difficult to leave the house I grew up in, the family that surrounded me and the friendships that I cherished, moving to the quiet city-side suburb of River Forest, Illinois was more of a migration in my mind. I always knew I would come back.

Similarly to the two and a half years I spent as a toddler living in Braunschweig, Germany, my stint in Chicago lasted about as long before making my comeback to Hogtown, not withstanding a one year term in Montreal. My extended vacation, as I like to call it, was more than a scene change, however, it began a new chapter in my life. 

My dad always told me that moving around “builds character”. Easy enough for him to say considering it was his job choices that kept the handles on our luggage constantly warm. Yet, as I look back on the years I spent living away from Toronto—the city I will always consider to be my home—I feel as though I am genuinely fortunate for the opportunity I have had to build strength in my own character.

From a conniving little buck-toothed 13-year-old in 1999 to a relatively mature, straight-toothed 21-year-old in 2009, the decade that was has determined what is. 

A Chinese proverb once wrote: “Learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere.”

Throughout my travels I have learned to better understand difference, both in perspective and personality. I have learned the importance of surrounding yourself with people who you can learn from and grow with. I have learned that in order to live a full life you have to be prepared to let yourself live. Most of all, I have learned how important it is to embrace change, while never forgetting what has brought you to that point.

I have written several new chapters for myself since the winter of 1999. Each of them is richer in content, as the context in which I live my life is progressively shaped through my experiences.

While my drive has not yet peaked to discover new ways to build my character, I know that no matter where I choose to go in life, I will always come home. 

Fish don't cry

Not much time for words, so simply gaze at the glory of an animal that was living but moments ago, that now rests on my plate.

If you've been previously uninformed as to my unrelenting lust, constant cravings, and deeply rooted adoration of raw fish; let it be known, if I could make sashimi my bitch and take it to bed every night, I would! Barring the coastal regions, in which I do not inhabit, all good natured sushi fiends who think they know anything about anything find themselves quibbling constantly with their counterparts as to who's got the freshest fish in town. We've all got our favourites, however, in the end, if you're living in land-lock your sea-fare is never as fresh as it could be.

Korea (Seoul or otherwise), on the other hand, does an exemplary job at ignoring the idea of freeze packing or fast-shipping their fish from the sea to the supermarket. With gargantuan fish markets located all over the country and countless restaurants displaying full tanks of still-breathing-swimming-living fish, mollusks, crustaceans, and holothurians (sea cucumbers, sea urchin, ect.), if you want fresh fish, there's no doubt when you know you've found it.

Having indulged in many of the aforementioned species out here in Korea, for a twisted-minded sushi addict like me, there's nothing quite like watching the slice of a knife through a fishes head, followed by a speedy, yet, supremely precise: clean - gut - fillet - skin - sashimi maneuver. Turning live animal into delicate and delicious slices of sashimi within minutes is an experience I'd always dreamed about, but never realized, until my first trip to the Noryangjin Wholesale Fisheries Market in Seoul in late May; feasting on a whole flounder for a mere W20,000 (under $20), that comfortably fed three, along with some sannakji (live octopus). I recently returned to Busan, Korea's second largest city, on the southern coast of Korea, and had the pleasure of dining on out-the-tank red snapper (W30,000/1.5kg whole fish) at the famed Jagalchi Fish Market.

I'd go into lengthy descriptions of the untainted freshness, the exquisite texture and the altogether alluring appearance, but, if you're one of those "good natured sushi fiends who think they know anything about anything" about raw fish; you know this is as good as it gets!

Freshly beheaded flounder @ Noryangjin Fish Market, Seoul

Flounder sashimi

He may not look so happy, but we said a prayer just before the execution of this tasty red snapper

Fresh red snapper sashimi @ Jagalchi Fish Market, Busan

No news is good news, but good news is better

When I first arrived in Korea I was a tourist. I have become a resident, temporarily. Soon, I will be a defector. Not quite escaping, but definitely getting out. Its not because I don't like where I am, but that my justifications for sticking around have been matched by reason, or at least transformed perspective.

In the last real update concerning my personal state of affairs the outlook was grim. I had fallen into a routine of accepted, apathetic and unenjoyable work. My frustrations were brielfy blurred out through uninhibited indulgence, or the exploratory undertakings of a curious stranger in a foreign land.
I no longer feel like a wide eyed alien looking to take in all the 'difference' and draw up distinctions between what I know and what is new. I continue to be on a journey, no doubt. But, I feel like I know where I am going. Rather than walking the banks of a meandering stream in search of a bridge that will take me to the other side, I am paving a path with precision and a purpose.

When it was last addressed, I had no ability to wrap my head around the concept, or moreso the timeframe that surrounded the completion of my one year teaching contract here in Korea. I was roughly four months deep at the time, and the days crawled along with sinister torment. It wasn't what I had lacked to achieve with my children; some of them, most notably my kindergarten kids, had made remarkable and respectable progress over such a short period of time. What terminally tested my patience were the things beyond my control. The crying, the yelling, the relentless and recursive jabber in an incomprehensible language, that I knew would never cease. These were the things that tested my patience to an insurmountable extent. I felt as though I was playing Sherpa, guiding a goup of crippled geriatrics to the peaks of Everest without a map. And I was from Delaware. There aren't any mountains in Delaware, right? Point being, I was delt a difficult hand and felt increasingly out of my element.

As a general statement, I enjoy being amidst things I dont quite know or understand. I relish the opportunity to travel because it not only breaks me out of a comfort zone which is not so easily annexed, but because it allows me to broaden my horizons and accrue a legitimate and preservable understanding, or lack there of, of another culture. However, as I mentioned before, I was no longer a tourist, I was a citizen, an employee; and for the brief and now calculable future I continue to hold those titles. Come October, though, things will have shifted somewhat.

At the beginning of July I decided that I had to make movements. Playing for the puppeteer would no longer cut it. I had to write my own script. There's no such thing as your "two weeks notice" while teaching out in Korea. The departure period is 3-months in the making, which at some schools can lead to isolation from coworkers, abhorrence from your administration, and in the worst cases, a bounced cheque on your final payment. As I've mentioned before, I work for and with a pretty respectable crew of people, so thankfully these are matters that don't concern me. What took the greastest amount of care and concern was sorting out just exactly what the next step was.

When I firt had it in my mind to release myself from my contractual woes, the option of leaving Korea was largely nonexistent. With major travel plans on the crest of the horizon and a $1,200 price tag on a one way ticket home I had done my research and figured the best course of action would be to stick around town with a tourist visa (valid for 6-months for Canadians) and set up private tutoring gigs to pay the rent and stockpile some walking around money. Unexpectedly, I had to take a two week hiatus from work and return home to Toronto just a week later. For a short period of time i was surrounded by family and friends, gorgeous weather, and a bed that was off the floor; a sharp contrast to Seoul. I felt relaxed and revived. In the past 6 years I have spent roughly one cumulative year living in my hometown, and with no real job, nowhere to live and a solid plan to travel for 6 additional months come March, 2012, I was beginning to feel as though I hadn't considered all the options.

On October 10 I will say farewell to Korea. Honestly humbled by my experience as a teacher, and sincerely sorry for those poor sots who had to teach me as a hyperactive youngster, it's time to start looking towards the future while not forgetting the value of living for the present. I committed to myself that after University, until the age of 25, I would take every opportunity to do whatever, whenever and live completely free of regrets. I would be lying if I said that there wasn't a point in time where I regretted my decision to come to teach in Korea. In hindsight, however, a small regret has not led to regression. While the task proved to be an uncomfortable challenge at times, the overall experience outside of school has surely compensated for the rest. The street food, the barbeque, the bar scene, the friends, the travel, and did I mention the food? All of these memorable elements have helped to reaffirm my post-University mission of self discovery, and have collectively allowed me to gain more personal insight into what I want to pursue in my life, as much as what I don't.

When I go back to Toronto I will begin my applications to pursue further education in broadcasting or broadcast journalism, which I will potentially follow with a culinary degree. With those tools at my disposal I hope to work my way onto a television show centered around travel and indigenous international cuisine. Growing up in the cultural mosaic that is Toronto, I have been fortunate to sample a plethora of high quality and authentic eats from all over the world with no more than a 30 minute commute. The experience of leaving the comforts of home, being surrounded by the sights, smells and sounds of a foreign place, and combining that with a truly local meal, cannot be matched in any other forum. Living in Seoul has given me a taste for such a feeling, and I feel like it will take a while until my appetite is peaked.

So, with new aspirations and renewed drive, I'm heading back to what I know in order to prep myself to experience the things that I don't. 

On the go Epiphany

In transit on the Seoul subway for the first time with a bulky tripping pack...I think I've finally pinpointed why everyone in this country is so damn skinny; it goes beyond vanity and broaches necessity.

What has become a favoured saying of mine, and a constantly repeated mantra of reassurance while herding myself through the neverending crowd that is Seoul proves to be true once again...

"In Seoul, you only move as fast as the person in front of you."

Roughly 90 meals deep

Time flies when you're 14-hours ahead of the rest of 'your' world...

(My Kindergarden class: Jamie, Alice (no longer), Jon)

It's but a few hours past my one month anniversary of my arrival in Seoul. Hard to believe from both sides of the spectrum; on the one hand I feel as though I've seen and done so many new and interesting things since I got here, on the other, it's as though I just said my goodbyes to close family and friends.

I'm reluctant to say that it's a milestone moment; today was like most other days I've had here in Seoul. Early to bed, early to rise, 9 hours of tiring and somewhat stressful work (dealing with 4-10 year olds all day long and attempting to manage a mixed bag of completely unmentioned, yet lofty, expectations from management that barely speak your language has already caused a grey hair or two to sprout), bibimbap lunch, workout at my nearly private studio gym (recent addition to the schedule), Thai dinner with my good friend Yoni (we just had payday so we're going a bit 'haute-classe'), squeezing in a blog and soon to repeat itself again...and again...and again...

(W4000 pork barbeque...so you know it's good!)

The weekdays are the unfortunately lengthy filler leading up to much anticipated weekends and the opportunity to truly take in the many wonders that Seoul has to offer. The city is impressively accessible as a result of years of highly developed and constantly expanding subway infrastructure, cheap taxi cabs and the ability to find something interesting, or at least different, to do in every neighborhood. The short list of exciting adventures that I've had so far include many a tasty barbeque joint (may not be so exciting for some, however, grilling meat at your table ranks right up there in my book!), a colorful St. Patties day celebration in the historic Insadong neighborhood, more barbeque, all night parties in Itaewon and Hongdae, an afternoon at the Namdaemun market feasting on sumptuous street foods, beef barbeque, a Sunday afternoon at the jjimjilbang (pronounced: jim-jill-bong is a Korean communal bathhouse and sauna-torium) called the Dragon Hill Spa weaving my way through the shopping mecca of Myeongdong, stumbling upon an impressive art showcase in the Gyeongbukgung subway station that turned out to be a High School art exhibit, pork barbeque, visiting the ancient Gyeongbukgung Palace of the Joseon dynasty which is home to the Geunjeongjeon (the main palace where kings were crowned and other such events took place) and the Gyeonghoeru (a large raised pavilion resting on 48 stone pillars, overlooking an artificial lake with two small islands), and barbeque, and barbeque, and barbeque!

(Geunjeongjeon)

With the constant work, the need to cook my own meat, and my attempt at living a life outside of these time-consuming duties I have neglected this blog on more than one occasion, both in frequency and the inclusion of content. I hope to find more time to inform, digress, and discuss my goings-on's on a more consistent basis in the coming months,
however, do know that while my stories and stomach-fillers may not always appear in a timely fashion--they will appear.

I appreciate all the comments I've gotten from everyone thus far and I implore you to keep them coming in all forms; compliment to criticism. You are all missed tremendously...you know who you are...and keep me posted on what's happening around my former stomping grounds!

990-ish Meals To Go.

(The Korean corndog at Namdaemun Market: rolled in some sort of rice and seasoning mixture with a crab stick inside topped with hot sauce and honey mustard)

(Dried squid in a cup, anyone? Also from Namdaemun)

(Fresh, handmade dumplings from a market in Jongno)

(It's a barbeque kinda thing)

(Gyeongheoru from the back)

A few standouts from the Deokwon Arts High School Exhibition

Happier than a pig in...

Following my blog about a snack that I could, and often do, enjoy on an unscheduled and uninhibited basis I figured it would be appropriate to comment on a recently discovered street food I'd rather not become accustomed to: pig snouts.

Prior to my departure I vowed to eat most anything that I came across during my travels abroad. I am, however, not an entirely foolish man...most of the time...and luckily, came prepared with a short set of valid and binding ground rules:

1) Eat, and hopefully enjoy, any food that is offered to you provided that rule 1-1, 1-2, 1-3 stand

    1-1) Eat any food offered by a trusted Korean

    1-2) Eat any food that is offered or suggested by anyone if they are willing to eat it along with you

    1-3) Not required to eat or even entertain the idea of food offered by a stranger or a street vendor

2) If asked if you want it "spicy" you must request that is it made "as spicy as possible"

3) There are no limits to what you can, or must try...once! After it has been tasted there is no requirement to ever eat it again!

I am happy to say that I have yet to dive face first into a pile of boiled pig snouts like these, which I found in a seedy back alley in Itaewon. I can also gleefully report that when I asked my Korean friends about their experience with the dish, they all 'turned up their noses' at the though of ever savoring such swine. 

So it would seem that I'm off the 'hoof' for this one...at least for now. If anyone dares to dive in to this dirty dish along with me, I'll have no choice but to succeed. But, be weary of what that entails. It's never appetizing to bite into more than you want to chew. 

("Can you smell what the Hock is cookin'?")

The anywhere, anytime snack

Every great city has its staple snack item that can be found on nearly every slightly populated street corner. In Toronto, we are famous for our delectable vendor hot dogs, more popularly knows as "street dogs" or "street meat". A spicy italian sausage, juicy and sweet polish sausage, beefy braut, or classic all beef frank is always light on the wallet and heavy on convenience and comfort.

Here in Korea the most popular street food is without a doubt, Duk Bo Gi. Available on nearly every street corner (except around my ritzy part of town) or literally lining entire city blocks, these simple, spicy, scarlet snacks are not to be missed...just try avoiding them..

Stands are typically made up of a big rectangular 'trough' of Duk Bo Gi: compressed rice cakes cooked and completely saturated in chili paste, usually with some sort of fish cake or cut up meat. A decent sized plate can be purchased for W1,000-W2,000 (under $1-$2) and is eaten at all times of the day as a on-the-go-snack or an entire meal. Most vendors also have plenty of tempura'd vegetables and seafood (shrimp and crab) that can be cut up into the saucy goodness or eaten on their own. Skewers of fish cakes are also almost always around, boiling in a fish tasty fish broth that you can enjoy a cup of (or 3) on the house.

(Duk Bo Gi and tempura'd delights...a perfect way to start, end or enjoy any part of the Korean day)

There's more than one opportunity to make a good first impression

Partially composed: March 5, 2011 (5:40pm KST in a taxi cab from Incheon International Airport)


There's a great many ways to describe my first impressions of Korea and the city of Seoul...intrigue, disappointment, perspective, excitement...just a few adjectives that initially come to mind.


One thing I can say with conviction, at least as far as my very first glimpse of Seoul, is that it is not at all pretty. While most highway drives from an airport are less than aesthetically pleasing, my predictions of what the city of Seoul and its surrounding areas would look like were torn apart in mere moments. I had painted a picture of modern glass high rise buildings, distant peaks and the "magnificent beauty of the Han River"; my first mental photographs featured clusters of identical, half built buildings, brown grass, abandoned lots off the side of the highway, decrepit factories and shipping yards and an overwhelming abundance of beige-painted-everything.  


Coming from Toronto, I though I had a pretty good idea of what constant and major constructions looked like, but was I ever naive. Seoul is a rapidly expanding city and on the way to the core (where I live) the amount of construction is something that I can only comprehend after seeing it in person. Cranes sprouted out of the tops of beige, characterless concrete buildings and  towered over the sea of flat topped roofs. Small cities and communities that formerly featured nothing but small apartment buildings jammed together were now being dwarfed by gigantic 20 and 30 story housing complexes that looked like they were designed during the cold war era. While I had already been told that efficiency was more than a big deal around these parts and that large 'officetels' were the norm, I imagined it would come in the form of the ultra-modern. These housing projects, however, lacked both in beauty and grander (despite their size). I was actually a little disappointed that after so much anticipation I was greeted in my new city of residence to a most dreary scene. 


I am, however, not one to pass judgement too quickly and as I drove deeper and deeper into the depths of the beast that is the Greater Seoul Area things began to take less uniform appearance. Once off the airport highway and into the thick of a 6PM traffic jam near downtown my perspective began to take a more refined form. I noticed a well developed river-front with small parks, basketball and badminton courts, bike paths and outdoor workout stations. There were a surprising number of people enjoying the 8°C weather, uncharacteristic of a Seoul day in early March. I even saw about 5 different golf courses on the drive over; each one of them packed with players teeing off on the brown grass! (This would not only be unheard of back in Toronto, but highly ridiculed) 


As we crawled along and slowly took to the main roads I was all of a sudden slapped in the face with what Seoul was all about. The main roads had more lanes of traffic (6-8) than most of the biggest highways around Canada, each one in complete gridlock on a Saturday evening. The 401 at rush hour never seemed so appealing. One brave (or stupid) soul was legitimately selling rice cakes out of a hand-pulled kiosk in the middle of the lanes of traffic!! When you enter my part of Seoul called Apgujeong-dong (famous for its haute couture boutiques and plastic surgery clinics) in Gangnam-gu (the quintessential downtown metropolis) my predetermined painting began to become more realistic. The mega-roads are lined with giant office towers, movie theaters, restaurants, convenience stores and more cafe's and cell phone shops then should be legal. Once off the main roads the neighborhoods are comprised of an intricate labyrinth of tiny streets; small apartment buildings, businesses, boutiques, restaurants of all kinds, and of course...many more cafe's! 


Seoul is a foodies wet dream! Even in Apgujeong, which is considered to be the most affluent in Korea, it is so easy to find delicious, fresh, filling and inexpensive food! 


Standard Korean fare is always the most affordable option and is guaranteed to come along with unlimited refils of side dishes free of charge.


A dolsot bibimbap will run you a mere W3,500-W5,500 (under $3-$5). "Dolsot" means "stone bowl" and "bibimbap"--"mixed meal", is a combination of rice served in a scolding hot stone bowl with sliced fresh vegetables on top and garnished with a raw egg and occasionally sliced meat; when mixed together it cooks the egg and creates a delicious contrast of flavors and textures from crispy and soft pieces of rice, crunchy veggies and acts as the perfect excuse to indulge in copious amounts of gochujang (chili pepper paste, or Korean hot sauce). 


Bulgogi: W5,000-W6,000 is one of the most popular dishes around and has most definitely found its way to everyone's local Korean restaurant. "Bulgogi" literally translates to "fire meat", but it is most commonly found served on a sizzling cast iron plate, or as I've found when ordering by name and expecting the former , a type of soup with some vegetables and glass noodles rather than grilled (the traditional preparation). Bulgogi is made from thinly sliced sirloin or other prime cuts of beef and is generally marinated for at least two hours in a variety of seasonings, including soy sauce, sesame oil, black pepper, garlic, onion, sugar, and ginger. The marinating process ensures a beautifully tender bite with a rich flavor that is both salty and sweet on the palate. Bulgogi is often served with rice and some sort of lettuce or sesame leaf for wraps. Don't forget your gochujang!


Another amazing thing about Korea is that so much of their eating is priced to serve at least two people. I was fortunate enough to be taken out for my first two meals in Seoul and each one was a cultural experience in itself. In many Korean restaurants it is typical to order just one main dish of meat or fish and the rest of the meal consists of an endless supply of delectable and diverse side dishes. My first meal (pictured below) cost W6,000 for all of the sides that also included a kimchi soup with tofu and what I believe was a mung bean and seaweed soup (my friend couldn't translate for me), and W12,000 for a hefty plate of bulgogi. The two of us didn't even come close to taking the whole thing down! 

(gotta love the variety!)

My second lunch was at a very upscale Korean restaurant, beautifully decorated with giant clay urns and pots, and other traditionally Korean artifacts and was a meal for the ages! With a whopping 43 dishes (some couldn't fit in the photo) to choose from, this epic two hour mowing marathon featured a tender salty sliced pork belly, bulgogi, dolsot bibimbap rice with peanuts (no veggies), dolsot egg, two soups and a plethora of palatable delights; at least 6 different kinds of kimchi and kimchi'ed things, whole fried Yellow Corvina (fish on the left), sauteed king oyster mushrooms, sting ray, and stuffed green chillies. For W26,000 I will be sure to bring some friends along for this experience sometime soon!

(I was full for days)

So, after being dropped into Korea in what appeared to a dull and dreary atmosphere, it didn't take long before I was exposed to some of the culinary colours that this country can offer. From confused to confident, I am eager to dip into the many taste sensations and topographic wonders that this country has to offer. 


With spring just around the corner, I will be budding along with the cherry blossoms and growing into my new surroundings. And while I don't expect it to, if all else fails, at least this food fiend will never go hungry!

Lost In Translation

Originally composed: March 4, 2011 (~2:00pm @ 30,000 feet)


My first case of Asian food envy came quickly, along with a minor and mediocre language struggle. 


For my first meal on the airplane I was offered the following, somewhat inaudible options: "Bibimbap, meat...beef?" While there should have been no hesitation nor drastic confusion, I attempted to question whether the Bibimbap also contained beef; somewaht of a logical question for a guy who'se only experience with the dish came many years prior, and who had now inconveniently forgotten that said dish was almost always of vegetarian nature. 


The bop was clearly the better choice...as going local always is, not to mention that you are NEVER to choose any option referred to simply by a broad category of "meat". Nevertheless, I chose the beef. My decision was more than just a slip in better judgement but a succession of effort on my part to try and get the answer I was looking for from the flight attendant. After several misinterpreted lines of questioning, mixed with my desire to not waste any more of her valuable time, I caved. Accepting the mystery dish from her already outstretched arm I knew just what was in store: instant food envy of the girl sitting next to me and all the other Bibimbapians on the airplane. 


Lesson Learned #1:
Be persistent in one's quest for the truth that one is seeking...or at least accept the embarrassment of changing one's mind before peeling back the foil to sure culinary disappointment.


Lesson Learned #2:
Airplanes are loud and are not the most conducive environment to break the language barrier.

(Actual photo not included)

Gotta love the comfort of a warm set of Buns

My first tasty Korean treat on my 15-hour flight to Seoul.

Warm, soft egg buns filled with sweet beef and a side of Korea's finest brown rice green tea. 

In Transit

Originally composed: March 4, 2011 (11:11am @ Chicago, O'Hare International Airport)

As Seoul begins to go to sleep I'm waking up to a whole new life. While mine has always been about living through experience, this experience is destined to be far beyond any that I've had. Barriers of language, culture, instinct and intuition will open doors to greater understanding, appreciation and adventure.

Avenues of all kinds will be perused and patrolled; alleyways will be scoured; cul-de-sac's conquered. Supertrains, subways, busses and boats, taxi cabs and tuk tuk's; carry me towards where I know, not, where I am going.

That land of Korea is as foreign to me as one could ever be, and I intend to make it my home. For the next year of my life, home will be far away from the heart...at least for the start. But, my heart is in it. My heart, my mind, my body, my energy and ambition are all on my side.

The future favors those who fuel the fire. And this spark is just starting to catch some flame.