Mining & Fishing

Been listening to various Show of Hands CDs recently - with their West-country background the songs are understandably full of references to mining, fishing & the working person, themes for today it seems.

The day began with a harrowing article by the BBC's John Humphries about the Aberfan disaster. After a late breakfast and a missed conversation class (a misunderstanding over the word 'next' as in 'next week') we decide to go sightseeing in the East of the island and set off in the rain towards the nearest advertised tourist entertainment offering shelter - a lava tube in this case.

The lava tube is exactly what it's name would suggest - a tunnel running through black rock. The rather organic looking water erosion on the walls and the small dalek-like concrete illumination pods give the place the feel of an underground car-park inside a huge horizontal root vegetable. Unsurprisingly, after about a kilometer or so the amusement fades - it's still a tunnel, it's still in lava. Not one of the world's most varied attractions. It's worth seeing, but once you've seen the first 200 yards it's time to head back to the surface and find the coffee machines.

After being chased around the souvenir shops we meander further east towards today's main event - the Hae-nyeo Women Divers' museum. Jeju has a long tradition (about 300 years recorded history) of women divers who swim unaided to depths of 20m, hunting for seafood - abalone, sea-slug etc. Although their number have dwindled in recent times it's still a common sight to spot a group of four or five women in wetsuits with a nets and floats, striding confidently across the volcanic rocks towards the sea.

The womens' long recorded history and the various traditions surrounding it - for example clothing, tools and other equipment - would be enough to make the subject interesting. But once you begin to understand that their story also has strong social and political dimensions it becomes truly fascinating. For example the part they played in the resistance movement under Japanese occupation and in the drive for improved education and school-building.

The ancient fading photographs of gatherings of proud fierce working women - embroidered banners declaring the collective or society they represent - reminded me of photos of miners and miners' wives co-operatives from the UK.

I have to confess I found it a strangely moving exhibition.

The museum building itself is also a nice piece of design - and definitely worth another look. Add to this the view from the observatory at the top of the museum which shows the nearby beach to be clean and sandy and sheltered and I suspect it's a future day out for visitors.

Zoo Pastry

Koreans love cake. They love everything about cake - making it, shopping for it and of course eating it. As with all their other food it's pretty to behold and comes in a bewildering variety of colours, shapes & sizes.

I'm not complaining, it's mostly very nice and my expanding girth is testament to its virtues. But something isn't right. Not everything below the 38th parallel is as quite as it should be.

The problem I suspect is a knock-on effect of their enthusiastic 'what-if-we...' attitude. Koreans just can't resist pushing the envelope at design time, tinkering with the ol'favourite to add a little something of their own unique culture. Pickled bloater intestine for example.

Imagine if you will a meeting of the Seoul Bakers guild, New Products Sub-committee 15.

Jong-il: "It's a blue bun... But somehow different... I need inspiration..."
Moo-hyun: "Cherries?"
Jong-il: "Hot Damn! Yes! A blue bun with cherries!"
Moo-hyun: "It's missing something... Maybe a glaze..."
Jong-il: "I've got it! Big salt crystals!"
Moo-hyun: "Yes! Ladies & gentlemen we have another winner..."

It looks like a sausage roll. An inch long flattened flaky pastry cylinder, a couple of slits in the top and an egg-glaze coating. It even has something brown in the middle resembling sausage. Don't be fooled. Don't let your guard down for even a second. It's a jam roly-poly.

Those little brown chocolate bonbons? With the pink hundreds and thousands? Forget it. Soy sauce dumplings. I guarantee.

I have a theory that a well meaning charity or development agency at some point air-lifted in a jumbo container of patisserie equipment:

Min-sik (as buffoon): "Now what do we have here..."
Sang-ho (smokes, spits, looks mean): "It's a machine..."
Min-sik: "For making pastry?"
Sang-ho: "But dammit - we have no flour, butter or sugar?"
Min-sik: "No problem! We have beans, fish & kim-chee & food-colour!"

Oh - and the expanding girth? I blame the green doughnuts...

Recipe Cards 1 - Spicy Chicken

Not exactly profound I know, but sometimes I do actually cook for myself. Even more occasionally the results are worth sharing. Although I admit the reactions to last week's 'Hot-dog & Kim-chi Surprise' weren't quite as enthusiastic as I'd hoped for - i.e. the Koreans involved poked at it with the longest chopstick they could find and then dialed for a delivery of fried things.

This one worked however...

Take one pack of chicken chunks, the A4-sized tray from Nonghyup costing about KRW4000. Fry gently in corn oil till crispy, takes about 20 minutes. Remove from the heat, drain off the fat.

Mix in a bowl:
- 1 inch of ginger root sliced into small sticks
- 1 tbsp yellow-bean paste
- 2 tbsp persimmon vinegar
- 2 tbsp greengage syrup
- 2 tbsp soy sauce
- 1 tbsp corn syrup

Add to the chcken and return to the heat, stir until the sauce is absorbed, caramelised etc, about 10 minute on low. Serve with crispy carrots or whatever else you have in the fridge. Await compliments.

Seriously, the various fruit vinegars and syrups available here are wonderful cooking ingredients. Nowhere near as acidic as UK vinegars but thicker and much fruitier. I detect Christmas presents for those-people-I-know-who-cook!

Chinese Whispers

"And then the whining school-boy with his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like a snail, unwillingly to school."

As promised I did manage to pack my bag and make it down to college on time, though readers will be relieved to hear that I left the shining face in a jar by the door. So - Elementary Korean Reading, four times a week.

I'm in a class of eighteen including sixteen Chinese students all a foot shorter than me and one Russian lad a foot taller than me. I think his height is a result of a diet of vodka, beetroot & cigarettes. Although I can't see that one being advertised on day-time TV.

The course is pitched at just the right level, slightly harder than I'm used to, so I have to work hard to come anywhere near keeping up, which is fun. Not quite so amusing, and here comes the whining school-boy bit, is my hearing. Or complete lack thereof. Never had I imagined that the hardest thing would be just hearing what's going on around me. I'd completely forgotten what 'classroom babble' actually means.

Admitedly being surrounded by Chinese teenagers gossiping among themselves isn't the easiest environment in which to écouter et répéter, but none of them are having any problems. Grrr. So I look even more the dunce because I have to keep apologising, pointing at my ears & shrugging my shoulders.

Now that I've got my residence card and have access to the health service maybe I can get my ears syringed.

Maybe that's where we'll find the snail.

University Challenge

Up to Halla University and Cheju National University (CNU) this morning to check on the availability of Korean language courses. The latter is a lot closer and I prefer the larger campus but sadly they're not offering any courses at the moment (they did, but the people who booked the course didn't turn up). Halla University is running a course though and I book myself in for classes starting on Monday. Two hours of reading practice four days a week.

The conversation classes don't seem such good value and K suggests it's better to contact some students at CNU and organise something informal.

So now I know what I'll be doing Monday to Thursday between 10 and 12!

Chu-seok 2006 - Home Again!

Needless to say the next day, Chu-seok itself, does not get off to an early start. We emerge blinking at about 11am to bid farewell to K's extended family and set off with hope (and thankfully a better map courtesy of her brother) to find Ji-ri San where there are temples and scenery in abundance.

Arriving at Ji-ri San we find a small tourist village with a fairground running for the kids' entertainment. The main attraction seems to be a waltzer presided over by a young DJ who is dishing out some sort of patter while jerking the controls with vomit-inducing intent. K becomes prudish and says his verbals are overly sexual for the young kids on the platform and it does indeed all sound a bit desperate to me - "...and I did four years at RADA for this..." springs to mind.

We book rooms in a small pension and set off in search of the temples. The nice man on the gate informs us that if we wait half an hour they're going to shut the ticket office and we'll be able to drive in for free. This puts a whole new slant on the phrase 'holiday discount' so we neglect to argue, or indeed ask who's paying his salary, obediently returning as night falls to park the car and explore the temples. The only downside to this strategy being that it's now too dark for photos. Argh. Damn. Boo-hoo.


It is however stunning and although not possible to photograph, the gloaming is definitely a beautiful time to attempt the ascent, making the giant sized wooden figures in the arches seem even more wierd and threatening than they would otherwise be.

We get to the main courtyard just in time for the evening ceremony which begins with slow drum beats and answering wood-block noises from monks positioned in temples surrounding the area. More monks stream in from the shadows, walking practically silently on the gravel and the singing and chanting begins. After about half an hour the full moon rises above the sides of the valley and the ceremony reaches a climax, then gradually fades back to the drums and wood-blocks and background chatter of crickets and frogs. All very atmospheric.

Stupid child that I am, I have a real 'duh' moment when I realise the moon is full for Chu-seok. Err, yeah, that would be why it's called the 'lunar' calendar...

We return to the village and the (mercifully inaudible at the temple) roar of the fairground in full swing. The DJ is now burbling incoherently to himself over the tannoy, probably about his failed relationships and mortgage repayments, but no-one's listening so it's fine.

At this point we make a fatal mistake. Sitting down to eat in a pork place I ask K what the wierd picture and writing on the cups are about. She laughs and says it's a promotion associated with a local government initiative to reduce the incidence of food poisoning in the area. Now, this should have told us something but we were tired and hungry and it smelled real good. The meal is fine and the fresh pork comes dusted with green tea powder which adds a strong smokey flavour to the grilled meat which is really quite delicious.

After tea we move to a bar to watch the fairground and it's here that I make the first serious faux-pas in Korean I've made for quite a while. When we ask what they have to drink the nice friendly owner suggests a wine called Concorde. Boorish plonker that I am I giggle and remark to K that Concorde isn't a wine it's an aeroplane. Of course, this is the one time that my Korean comes out idiom-perfect, loud and crystal-clear into a momentary gap in the general hubub of conversation, leaving absolutely no doubt what I'd said. K looks horrified and I realise I've really offended the owner. After K repairs the damage we order several sweet things to eat to make up and I spend the rest of the evening eating fruit salad with a side order of humble-pie.


Sadly however, all is not right and the next 24 hours are dominated by various bodily functions about which I don't intend going into much detail. I blame the evil green powder. I have a few hazy memories of the descent from Ji-ri San and K making an emergency trip to the local hospital to fetch medecine - four pills, one amusingly like a little chocolate cake, white with a brown line of filling visible round the edge. Apologies and sincere thanks to the staff of the sauna we stopped at near Namwon for putting up with the revolting westerner who sat, lay, rolled, groaned and generally made a scene in the corner of the sleeping room all afternoon.


We leave the sauna late in the evening and drive the full distance to Wando, a couple of hundred kilometers, stopping only in Kwangju to visit e:mart and stock up on stomach-settling yoghurt and water. The last hour I'm driving through deserted Korean villages with the window down and Tom Waits on the CD player to keep me awake and generally feeling a lot better, although saddened by the number of huge moths hurling themselves into the windscreen presumably to be reported as MIA by their siblings.

We hit Wando at about 3am and catch a couple of hours sleep after locating a non-smelly hotel by asking the first person we see. She seems strangely nonplussed by my questions but being Korean answers pretty straightforwardly. We understand her confusion later when we spot her busily bussing young ladies around at high speed between appointments in the various hotels along the sea-front. Hey-ho.

The ferry ride back to Jeju is again pleasant (leaving aside a second helping of Nong-shim noodle cup - see earlier) and uneventful except for a short stop-over a Ju-cha, another island, smaller than Jeju but big enough to have a reasonable sized port and be on the regular ferry route. Oh, and an impressive cluster of microwave dishes pointing at the mainland - so presumably also broadband internet access everywhere as well.

We arrive back at Jeju in the early afternoon - the familiar and welcome sights of the snow on Halla San and the white concrete of Sin-Jeju city dazzling in the sun.

It'll be a few days before I go for a pork'n'green-tea grill though...

Chu-seok 2006 - Around Kwangju

The next day begins well but despite our best attempts at 'map' reading we end up in central Kwangju, a forest of concrete instead of the forest of bamboo we were looking for. Finding ourselves hungry by midday we locate a puffer-fish restaurant on 'eat-street' and spend more than I've ever spent in one go on a Korean meal (KRW 40,000). I think the fish is nice but maybe not the orgasmic experience I've been led to expect and prefer the water-Kimchi and soft-shell crab, so I ask K how it was for her. "Actually it's very good but the side dishes are like a crap" she responds. Ho hum. Shows you how much I know.

After lunch and continuing our search for the elusive bamboo, we again get hopelessly lost and end up eliciting the help of a local taxi driver who drives in front of us to the nearest bamboo tourist site. Actually I think he was napping in his taxi in the main square, saw us crossing and re-crossing in front of him like some real-life screen-saver and just took pity on us. Anyway, here we find a shop which sells everything made of (unsurprisingly) bamboo.

Oh, when I say 'everything' I really mean it. Honestly. It's quite amazing what uses medium sized bamboo can be put to given the application of a small amount of modern technology. Believe me. And stop giggling.

We explore the rather touristy forest, kind of a theme park with taped music playing in the background and big plastic pandas lining the walkways. Some of the pandas require immediate cranial surgery after having had large rocks dropped on their skulls by playful Korean teenagers or possibly by gangs of frenzied panda-brain-eating sparrows. There's also the obligatory big glass tower/dome thing serving as central education-cum-shopping plazza. This is a slightly less phallic specimen than can be found found at some other sites e.g. the botanical gardens in Seogwipo http://activejeju.com/jeju/sights.htm and is selling more stuff made from bamboo. This time the selection is a little less eye watering.

The park is interesting but it's too highly themed for either of us and K wants to show me something more like the forests she remembers from her childhood. Throwing caution to the wind we decide to attempt to find a wilder more rural example and resort to the magic map again - "I solemnly swear..."

Before we leave I'm treated to some Korean street food, this time delicious drop scones made fresh from thick dough filled with a soft sweet paste of red beans and raw cane sugar. Served greasy and piping hot in a paper cup, washed down with my current favourite bevarage, sweet greengage tea.

The forest we do eventually find is a treat. Far fewer people and a much more natural environment bordered by farms and rivers instead of roads and houses. The quiet and spooky atmosphere among the bamboo needs to be experienced, I certainly can't describe it. It's beautiful but at the same time eery, mainly because of the quiet. I was relieved to be driving out of the car-park as night came down!

And so at last to Kwangju to meet K's family for Chu-seok itself. Present are K's older brothers and sister, their partners and kids and most importantly of all, K's mum. We're greeted warmly, sat down and brought huge quantities of traditional foods - including a truly delicious Bulgogi (beef and sesame stir-fry to you lot!).

After the meal we're sung to by the younger daughter of K's older brother. She's just graduated from university studying Korean traditional music and performs several songs accompanying herself on traditional Korean instruments. I could describe this but a picture is worth a thousand words (i.e. about a million of mine) so go here instead:

http://www.lclark.edu/~public/CHRONICLE/Winter2000/arts_alive.html

although you'd need to think t-shirt, jeans & punky hair instead of hanbok.

I'm gutted that I don't have any photos of this - I'm clumsy enough with the camera at the best of times and getting it out in the middle of a family get-together seemed pretty rude so I didn't even bother trying.

After one traditional entertainment we all, including K's 84 year old mum, decamp to a local Norebang (literally 'song room', i.e. Korean Karaoke house) for another great tradition, the family Karaoke contest. I'm sure I don't need to explain Karaoke. In this case we're divided into teams and an accumulator is run on the result of each round. At the end of the evening the winner divides the earnings amoung the kids present.

One thing which amused the outsider - and believe me, I am and intend staying an outsider as far as Karaoke is concerned - was the fact that the equipment doesn't have video clips for all the songs, just the audio. This is obvious really but I'd not thought about it. Consequently footage from cable music channels is displayed while the singing takes place. During K's rendition of 'Papa Don't Preach' we were treated to a section of a wildlife documentary complete with hordes of wildebeest followed by the Seoul traffic news (bad) & weather forecast (good).

At about 2:30am we're finished. K and I decamp to a sauna for the night to relieve the over-crowding in the appartment - there are about 18 people staying. I see a repeat of the news & weather through the changing room window as I lie butt naked and in splendid isolation in the largest hot pool in the mens' section. We crash at about 3:30am with a dozen other assorted familes and travellers, all in our identical sauna t-shirts and shorts, in one of the communal clay-lined sleeping rooms which is warm, pink and smells faintly of camphor. I'd say 'womb-like' but I don't actually recall the smell of camphor from the first time.

Zzzzzz...

Chu-seok 2006 - From Jeju to Kwangju

Up bright and early Wednesday morning (well one of us anyway) and head down to the port at Jeju to get the ferry for Wando with the behemoth, sorry 'car'. Not having bought tickets in advance doesn't seem to be a problem, all that's required of us is the usual round of form filling and inexplicably necessary argument. Apparently we pay for the passenger tickets at the Jeju end and for the car when we arrive at Wando. No idea why but it's entertaining.

Much to K's annoyance the ferry company won't take credit cards, so she threatens to report them to the tax office. I'm not sure if this is a lesser or greater punishment than her usual "I'm going to come back and kill one of you" but eventually we have tickets in our hands and are allowed on board.

The ferry trip itself is very pleasant, a little over 4 hours, sunny and calm all the way. We pass various islands, some inhabited some no more than rocks & trees in the middle of nowhere. K sleeps for most of the trip while I keep my eyes peeled for schools of whales / dolphins / porpoises / insert-cute-aquatic-animal-of-choice-here. Sad triumph of hope over experience that one.

The only slight downside to the crossing is the ever-present and inescapable smell of Nong-shim noodle cups (pot noodles to the Brits) consumed by the Korean contingent. One of these is enough to stink out a moderately sized kitchen (e.g mine) for a day or two, not that they aren't tasty or enjoyed regularly by the author. However a conservative estimate would put the number stirred, slurped, spooned, forked or otherwise dispatched at about two hundred, mostly within the first half hour of the journey - i.e. breakfast for most people. Suffice to say it's not an attractive sight/smell combination at 08:15am.

On arrival, Wando turns out to be a cross between a demolition derby and several football pitch sized flea markets. It also stinks, which is unusual. Jeju is tacky in... oh so very many ways, but it's pretty easy on the nose compared to a lot of places you could end up in.

Neither of us are hungry yet so we head for a beach resort which we saw from the ferry on the nearby islet of Shinchido accessible via a long bridge from the east side of Wando. This is my first experience of driving on the mainland and yes, it certainly is an experience. One I shall cherish. Assuming I live long enough to do so. More about Korean drivers another time if you're unlucky. The beach turns out to be sandy, enormous and deserted but sadly we don't have any swimming togs or indeed the inclination to swim. Could be a seriously nice place to chill though if you want the beach experience.

After a decent lunch, a beef & mushroom cook-at-the-table job delicious as always, it's off to the Korean equivalent of Land's End at the south end of Songhori beach. This boasts a monorail climbing from sea level to an observation tower at the top of the cliffs. Some quite stunning views both inland and offshore and a great selection of butterflies and other insects flying in and out of the forest around the base of the tower.

K thinks she knows where there is a nice sauna so we begin a hopelessly doomed attempt to relate what it says on her map to the roadsigns and even more entertainingly, to the actual roads. Space around here seems to be curved by a lot more than just gravity, although this may be explained by the fact that the 'map' is in fact a freebie given out by a bank on Jeju as advertising. So not exactly Ordinance Survey then.

After some disagreement, and even more consultation with pre-prandial and post-drinking session Koreans by the roadside, we end up at what is known hereabouts as a 'Love Motel'. These are extremely cheap motels at popular resorts where client anonymity is pretty much guaranteed, for example the receptionist sits behind a frosted glass panel with a small hole low down through which the money is exchanged.

A sign by the lift warns you that if the lift is in motion, chances are that there are people in it, so if you want to avoid eye contact you should make yourself scarce behind the screen located conveniently on the other side of the lobby. Given the number of doors into the lobby and the number of large pot plants offering sanctuary this has enormous comic potential. A better writer would no doubt concoct a far more entertaining story but it did give me the giggles for the whole time we were there.

What was less funny, well I suppose really just an opportunity missed, was the laminated 'sex education' handout located prominently in each room. This is printed only in Korean but K translated a section speaking about flowers and spring and the rising of certain natural urges, couched in such obscure language it ceases even to be euphemism and becomes some kind of mystic surreal poetry. The only reason you know what it's intended as is the URL at the bottom - http://www.sexeducation.co.kr/.

The paragraph beginning 'in these days of womens' liberation...' (or something similar) just gave me the shakes. Maybe I've lost something - but given the regular use of such establishments for the early fumblings of teenagers and the probably less confused but no less eager activities of their parents, I would have thought it an absolutely perfect opportunity to communicate some basic stuff about health, hygiene and the avoidance of teenage pregnancy. Possibly even the distribution of some free hardware.

Good grief I'm a patronising jerk sometimes.

K suggests I steal the sheet from my room and translate it myself if I'm so fascinated, but somehow the thought of working on it in the coffee shops back on Jeju (where I do most of my written homework, just to entertain the locals) doesn't appeal and I decide to shut up.

By now it's about 10pm and most of the restaurants have closed early for Chu-seok so we have quite a time locating some chow, eventually annoying the owner of the local tofu house by asking that they serve us some food since they still appear to be open for business. As always, the hospitality unfolds and the food turns out to be great and K works through most of a bottle of Soju before singing us back to the hotel along a lane bordered by the ubiquitous pink Cosmos and accompanied by a loud chorus of frogs from the ditches on either side.


All collapse exhausted.