At Last, More Things That My Students Draw

Man, it's been a long time since I did one of these, which is really quite a shame because there have been some true masterpieces sitting to rot in teacher's-giant-pile-of-papers purgatory. Does anyone else have a giant pile of papers sitting on their desk that, no matter what you do, never gets any smaller? The moment you decide to tackle it, every student decides to do their homework, and, instead of getting smaller, the pile just gets bigger. Over time, the layers on the bottom begin to decay, providing you with high-quality fertilizer for your pet cactus.

I used to hang up my students' work on the walls of my classroom. It served two purposes. First, it encouraged students to create high-quality work and to be proud of what they created. Second, it covered up the curse words and declarations of love for various k-pop groups that graffiti my otherwise whitewash-boring wallpaper. But, alas, it was not to be. One day, the CEO dropped by for a surprise inspection, and decided that student drawings make the classroom look dirty. So now my classroom looks like a psychiatric ward instead. I suppose they'll replace the wallpaper soon. At least, I hope so.

We're down to the last week of the term. Next week, the new 3.0 curriculum launches for more levels, which I will most definitely be teaching, and I don't expect I'll be able to share as many drawings. Most of the class is going digital. Instead of a haphazardly-prepared poster accompanied by a wacky script in which students use every excuse to punch each other, we'll be making and presenting films in which...well, probably the same thing will happen. Anyway, here are some gems from this past term.

First, here's a story about the end of civilization at the ruthless hands of dinosaurs.

You fool! Didn't you ever see Jurassic Park?

Using their powers of telepathy, the dinosaurs create their plan to hack the traffic system, turning all lights green simultaneously, bringing about the collapse of all order. Terror! Destroy!

One brave man's declaration halts the dinosaur advance.

And...that's it? Hm...How anti-climactic.

This next assignment was for students to play snake-oil salesman, inventing a disease and then charging people obscene amounts of money for a cure.

Stop loving yourself too much, you narcissistic jerk! Try normalify and suddenly have friends again!

Another project was for students to image how society would be structured in the future. This group decided that humans would learn to clone themselves and bring back medieval feudalism. 

Or set themselves up as gods. Same thing.

This next project was supposed to be about inventing an alternate source of energy, but apparently these kids ate too much sugar and decided that they would much rather force their favorite teachers to dance for eternity on top of a giant Theresa-shaped statue.

Dancing can save us all from the impending energy crisis.

This next one was doomed to be weird from the beginning. The class was about the assassination of JFK. The original assignment had them analyzing the evidence and deciding if the conspiracy theories are true or not. But that was probably the least relevant project ever assigned to a group of Korean elementary students who, two hours ago, didn't even know who JFK was. So I changed it. Pretend you are a member of the news media and a famous person has just died. Tell us what happened. Perhaps this seems a bit perverse to you. Perhaps it is. However, kids seem to love fictional, potentially violent deaths. The whole point is that it's fictional, and, whether some adults realize it or not, kids can definitely tell the difference between reality and fiction. Okay, rant over. Let me show you what they did.

This is the CEO of my company. :(

Finally, here is the greatest thing ever produced in my class. Maybe I've said that before about other things my students have drawn, but I retract those statements.

Because those other projects did not have Hitler showing up and killing you so he could take your seat.

The logic here is baffling. Do older people have magical powers that render all Nazi assaults futile? Is it the canes? Is it the fact that angry Korean grandmothers are terrifying? So terrifying that they even frighten evil mass-murderers? We may never know.

That Time I Was A Reporter

Wow, it’s been awhile. Goodness, Theresa, where have you been?

Well, let me tell you. Nowhere that fun. Usually, when I haven’t written something in awhile, you can assume that it’s because I’ve been dancing on top of mountains while drinking makeoli and high-fiving celebrities (at least, that’s what I want you to think), but such has not been the case recently.

Mostly, I’ve been training for Chungdahm’s new program. It’s called 3.0, and, as the name implies, it relies entirely on the use of fancy new Samsung Note 8.0 tablets. They’re very pretty. As for the program, it’s pretty okay. I have to admit that I’m overwhelmingly biased toward physical books. There’s nothing like the feel and smell of a book in your hands. I also think it’s better for students to be able to write with a physical pencil and paper. Tablet learning is fancy and cool, but I worry that a few years from now, those students who learned with tablets won’t be able to pick up their old “books” and review whatever it was they learned.

That being said, I at least enjoy 3.0’s new classes. They’re waaaaay more interesting to the students than what we were teaching them before. Let’s do a poll here, online friends who probably aren’t reading this: If you were a 6^th grader in Korea, would you rather talk about ecotourism (old Chungdahm) or CCTV and it’s intrusive influence in our lives (3.0)? And for those of you who said neither, you suck and why are you reading this anyway? They also take full advantage of the fact that tablets are technology, so the lesson comes with lots of pictures, videos, and sound clips that are a lot more relatable and enjoyable to look at than some of the stuff from older lessons.

At the same time, though, it’s been a pretty tough last few weeks. I spent a lot more time at work than I would have liked (and, believe me, the cat wasn’t too happy about it either. I have the claw marks up and down my legs to prove it.). In addition, a lot of my good friends and coworkers decided it wasn’t worth their time and actually quit. I’ve had to gradually say goodbye to a number of truly great people.

But enough about 3.0! I passed with flying colors and won a good deal of money in the process. What I really want to talk about is the one cool thing I did do recently. It’s called World Knowledge Forum. Held every year at the criminally fancy Walker Hill Hotel in Seoul, The World Knowledge Forum is where a bunch of business and world leaders get together and talk about things related to business, politics, economics, and everything in between. The organizers of the event always need English-speaking reporters to write the press releases. Even though the forum is in Korea, almost all of the talks are in English. That’s where Chungdahm comes in. The organizers hire Chungdahm teachers to be reporters. I got to spend three days hyped up on caffeine and adrenalin, rushing from talk to talk and writing reports in between. I also got to stay in a five-star hotel for free. So that was also nice. Of course, almost everything was really interesting. I got to hear from Salman Kahn, the founder of non-profit Kahn Academy. The basic idea behind his academy is that you can learn anywhere at any time at your own pace. Students who are having trouble in math or science can log on to his site and study whatever they want. The goal is to master a skill, not just to study for a test and pass it. The lessons are also completely free.

There was also a talk on cyber security presented by Prof. Eugene Spafford (of Morris Worm fame) and Jeff Moss, the founder of DEFCON, the hacking conference. Their conclusion was that we are not safe. Thanks, guys. Another talk, by Edward Gleaser of Harvard, was all about his theory that cities are awesome and way better for the advancement of human civilization. He was so enthusiastic about his topic that it was hard to disagree. By far the strangest talk I attended was between a journalist, a philosopher, and an investment banker. They spent the entire time musing about the nature of existence and whether or not we have free will. It was like a freshman philosophy class, except the freshmen were all Korean businessmen who, by the end, probably felt like they should have signed up for the economics class instead. 

Check out our sweet media credentials. Boom.

But the best talk by far was about North Korea. The speakers were a US ambassador, a Chinese ambassador, a Korean ambassador, and also Meir Dagan, the former director of Mossad. Everything seemed pretty standard at first. There was lots of talk about how North Korea needs to give up their weapons program. But then we got to the audience questions, and the very first question set off a bomb. The audience member asked about China’s treatment of North Korean refugees. If you’re unfamiliar, each year, thousands of people flee North Korea and end up in China. Official Chinese policy is that if they get caught, they are sent right back to North Korea, where they face almost certain death. This is, of course, against UN standards and a clear violation of human rights. At first, the Chinese ambassador denied it. Then the US ambassador told him that if China wants to be taken seriously, they need to start respecting human rights. Then the Chinese ambassador complained that the Chinese government didn’t have the resources to take care of all those North Koreans, who were clearly there to take advantage of their wealthy state, so, really, it was their right to send them back. That’s when the Korean ambassador jumped in and told him he was full of shit. South Korea actually has a policy in place in which it will take every single North Korean refugee and not only care for them, but also provide them with free education, health care, and even find them a job. China’s problem would literally vanish overnight if, instead of arresting the refugees, they just put them on a plane to South Korea. Boom. The entire room exploded. And I just about died from joy. It was an awesome fight. I actually recorded the entire conversation. Let me know if you want it.

Theresa's First Chuseok!

I was halfway through another post about Korean amusement parks, but I got sidetracked by a few events that were even better and therefore merited immediate posting. The first event is my adoption of an adorable little kitten by the name of Park Junior. When MyungSoo and I first brought Junior home, he was underweight and could barely walk. For reasons inscrutable, he had been separated from his mother far too early. He didn't know how to use the litter box and was still too young to maintain his own body heat. But now, one week later, he is playful, curious, and incredibly comfortable with humans. More importantly, he can use the litter box and no longer pees on my bed. The vet even gave him a clean bill of health. He wakes me up every morning by punching me in the face.

Did your face just melt from the cuteness?

So that was the first big event. Now for the second, even bigger, even cooler event.

Chuseok! Chuseok is Korean Thanksgiving. It coincides with a full moon and is an opportunity for families to get together to celebrate the harvest and pay their respects to their deceased ancestors. Naturally, I had never been to Chuseok before. The only thing I knew about Chuseok was that it involves families traveling to visit their grandparents and that while there, they eat a lot of food (as is proper of any Korean event). Chuseok probably sets some kind of record for vast numbers of people moving from one place to another. Seoul literally empties itself, as over 6 million of the 10 million people living in Seoul leave the city to head to their ancestral homes and the grandparents living there. Korea is a pretty small country. The longest you'll have to drive is maybe six hours if you're driving from Incheon to Busan. During Chuseok, those time travels double. Even a short, one hour car ride can transform into a four hour smog-fueled nightmare. Train tickets sell out months in advance. Buses are even worse than cars. To avoid traffic, many of my students' families left their houses at 3 AM, and just drove all night.

MyungSoo's family is lucky. Their grandmother's house (their grandfather unfortunately died last year) is located only about 1.5 hours outside of Seoul. It's even accessible by Seoul metro. (One more reminder that Seoul metro is the greatest subway system in the world. For a mere 3,000 won, it can take you two hours outside of Seoul, and their eventual goal is to link up all of Korea in one, giant, incredibly cheap and convenient subway system. Genius.)

Food. It's all about the food. As soon as I arrived, I started cooking. First, there were these toothpick creations in which crab, ham, pickled radish, greens, and more crab were stuck together, then dipped in egg and fried. After that, we made these dumpling-like dainties in which a mixture of pork and vegetables was put inside a leaf, dipped in egg, and fried. Next, we made seafood pancakes, which were also dipped in egg and fried. The whole endeavor required three or even four people to work together. At this point, we had made over 200 pieces and still showed no sign of stopping. I, however, had reached my limit. MyungSoo's mom (a marathon cooker and hardcore badass) told me to go sit down in the massage chair with a cup of tea. I happily obliged.

I still think about those leaf things and weep. They were so good.

Every meal came with rice, soup, meat, vegetables from the garden, and about four different types of homemade kimchi. The table was so full of food that there wasn't room for anything else. After each meal, we'd sit around, eating fresh fruit and sweet rice cakes until someone suggested playing LoL. For those of you who aren't familiar with League of Legends, it's a brilliant online game. Each team has five players, each of whom controls one champion, each of whom has special abilities and talents. The goal is to destroy the other team's base. LoL has become incredibly popular in Korea, even to the point that it's more popular than Starcraft. Yes, there is a TV channel completely devoted to broadcasting LoL games. Anyway, MyungSoo's brothers are all incredibly good. I'm actually pretty terrible, but they humored me and let me play with them anyway.

Pictured: Family bonding

All that food!

But the purpose of Chuseok is not to get together to eat and play popular online games. The purpose of Chuseok is a lot more significant than that. Chuseok is really about paying respect to your ancestors. MyungSoo's family (on his father's side) owns a mountain. The mountain was purchased long ago by an ancestor of the Park family who also happened to be related to the Joseon dynasty. On this mountain is buried every member of the Park family dating back over nine generations. Every Chuseok, the family visits the mountain to pay their respects to their ancestors.

Three Parks. The farthest grave is the man who purchased the mountain. The closest grave is that of MyungSoo's grandfather.

 A quick word about graves in Korea. They are completely fascinating and beautiful in their simplicity and practicality. Ideally, if a family has enough money, they buy a mountain on which to bury their family members. If not, they can always choose cremation. A younger generation can never be buried above an older generation. It is the duty of the family to keep the grave clean of weeds, bugs, water, and especially trees. Tree roots can trap the deceased's soul and cause him to suffer great pain. Water is equally bad and might carry away the bones. Bugs might devour the bones or carry them away as well. Weeds are just bad. In the picture, you might also notice the two stone pillars on either side of the graves. Those are to keep about bad spirits. The stone table in front of the graves are for the family so that they can easily set up their offerings or burn incense of the deceased. MyungSoo's grandfather doesn't have any of these fancy assets because his wife wanted him to have a humble grave. When she dies, she will be buried with him, in his mound. There is also a crescent-shaped mound behind the larger mound. This is there both to keep water from flowing over the grave (potentially carrying away bones) and also to collect energy from the mountain.

MyungSoo's family is pretty traditional. This means that when it comes to Chuseok tasks, these tasks are divided along gender lines. It is the role of the women of the family to prepare the food to be offered at the various rites and ceremonies. It is the role of the men to perform these rites and ceremonies and see that they are done correctly. Usually, the women stay at home to prepare the food, while the men travel to each household to do the rites. In MyungSoo's family, there is an extreme paucity of women, so the men occasionally help with the food. However, women are definitely not involved in the rites. Apparently, at each house, the family sets up a table and fills it with over 20 different dishes of fruit, meat, kimchi, rice cakes, and everything in between. The oldest son then lights incense and pours a glass of chung ha (a Korean liquor that tastes much better than soju) for the deceased (because all Korean guys, whether living or dead, love alcohol). Everyone then bows all the way to the ground 20 times. At least, that is my vague understanding. I'm not actually sure if I have it right. The men also go visit the graves of their ancestors and (I assume) bow some more. Although I wasn't able to go to any of the ceremonies at the other houses of the family, I was able to go to a small ceremony at MyungSoo's grandfather's grave. MyungSoo's grandmother is feeling really sick, so she wasn't able to prepare all of the dishes for the family rite. Instead, we packed up the car full of tables and food and headed to the gravesite, where we set up the food (much of which I had helped make the night before) and MyungSoo's father performed the above-mentioned rite. Instead of bowing 20 times, though, we only bowed 2.5 times twice (the half bow is just a bow at the waist). After that, we hung out at the grave and ate all the food offerings.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing and watching TV. That night, the men all went over to the house of the oldest son of the grandfather's oldest brother. I was super jealous because his wife is from Busan and made all sorts of delicious seafood. However, I contented myself by playing the kitten and eating sweet rice cakes. When the boys got home, we played LoL together until 3 AM.

The next day was spent working. MyungSoo's grandmother owns a rice farm, you see. These days, most of the land is rented out to other farmers, but the grandmother keeps a small patch in front of the house just for her own purposes. MyungSoo's father decided that she was getting far too old for that, though, so the men spent most of the day dismantling her greenhouse and harvesting peppers. To make a long story short, we spent almost the entire day harvesting and sorting peppers. Some were made into spices. Some were fried. A good majority were made into kimchi. At the end of the day, I looked upon my work and I saw that it was good.

And that is the story of Theresa's first Chuseok. 

Manly men working hard.

Peppers! Now imagine like a million more.

Vacation and The Hunt for a New Apartment (is easy if you know the right people)

Last week, I celebrated the one year anniversary of my arrival in Korea. It didn't seem like such a bit deal. I was actually on a trip with my choir. We slept at an abandoned elementary school, ate some of the most delicious food I've had while in Korea (Chicken soup with a whole chicken for each person that is stuffed full of rice. The broth was made with ginger root. It's a traditional summer dish.), drank a lot, played games, and relaxed on the beach with beer and watermelon. MyungSoo came too. The next day, we stopped at a local parish for a wonderfully simple and beautiful Mass (the church was so small that the 30 or so members of the choir filled half of it), we ate soft tofu soup, and then MyungSoo and I hung out at the beach with his older brother, JeongSoo. The East Sea (sometimes known as the Sea of Japan) is incredibly calm and relaxing, and the weather was perfect. At the end of the day, we ate blood sausage soup at a restaurant famous for that dish (with good reason), and then spent the next three hours battling our way through traffic. Korea has a serious traffic problem. I want you to know that.

But it was all worth it for this soup.

Creepy school hallway. It made a surprisingly good hotel, but it was still scary at night.

Luscious, green rice fields and mountains, the number one reason why I love Korea.

Maybe I should mention the oddity that is a Korean rest-stop. Most of them are just places by the side of the road with an sometimes inexplicably clean bathroom (seriously, one of them smelled like perfume and had soft jazz playing in all of the stalls). Then there are the mega stops, the stops where hundreds of cars vie for parking spots, where travelers line up for fried snacks, dried squid, coffee, and the ever-popular hotdog, where adjusshis sell electronic toys for kids, and where adjummas set up stalls that sell useless trinkets and pop music from the 70s. The bathroom lines aren't actually that long, simply because of the sheer number of stalls, but half of those stalls contain squat toilets. The Korean rest-stop is a both a terrifying and entertaining place. You never know what you're going to see there. Anyway, on to the good news.

I'm going to spend another year in Korea. Basically, this place is awesome. I'll be taking a vacation for a month or two and coming stateside in the winter, though, so if you have an urgent need to see my face, I'll be around.

Anyway, with a new year comes a lot of changes. First of all, it means a new contract and hopefully more responsibilities at work. However, the biggest change will be my apartment. The one I live in right now is pretty okay. It has everything I need. It's also super expensive (because it's in Gangnam) and a ten-fifteen minute walk from the subway station. So even though I live close to work, my commute time is depressingly long and involves trekking through bitter cold or crushing heat. Plus, it takes an hour on the bus to get from Gangnam to where MyungSoo lives.

I've never really looked for an apartment before. The last time, when I first arrived in Korea, was basically the worst apartment-hunting experience ever. It involved myself and two other new employees squeezing into a tiny car with one of the Korean staffers from our office (but whom we believed was a realtor) and driving off to meet some other guys. These guys all babbled away in Korean, talking about mysterious things, with no one bothering to translate. Imagine, if you will, three confused white girls trailing behind three, sometimes four middle-aged Korean guys while they discuss each apartment. Exchanges went something like this:
"So what is the price?"
"Price?"
"Rent fee."
"Rent fee is 800,000 won. But you get discount because American. Japanese I charge extra."
"Okay...So what is the rent?"
"750,000 a month. Very good deal."
"Does that include utilities?"
"What?"
"Does that include gas, electric, and water?"
*Koreans talking together for several minutes*
"Okay, let's go! Very good deal! Next apartment!"

It only got worse when our guide (who we soon realized was not a qualified realtor at all, but merely an escort sent by our office) said he had other things he had to do and left us alone with two middle-aged Korean men who barely spoke English. The one guy kept talking about paying a realtor fee (but he wasn't a realtor), while the other guy kept showing apartments that were way too expensive. In the end, I got frustrated and took the one that didn't smell as strongly of mold and cigarettes. Actually, it turned out to be a pretty good choice at the time. However, I have now outgrown the needs of this place. Plus, my landlord's unhealthy obsession with CCTV kind of bothers me. There is a point when security becomes excessive, and he reached that long ago. On the way from the door to my room on the third floor, there are eleven cameras. He also has a bad habit of verbally abusing Korean visitors.

When it came time to look for a new apartment, I was, naturally, a bit nervous. I started my search on Craigslist, but soon discovered that almost every apartment offered was for foreigners only and located in either Hongdae, Gangnam, or Itaewon, all three of which are expensive places to live. Well, Itaewon isn't expensive, but it's also a miniature version of every dirty, American city, where the scum of the foreign community tend to congregate. It's the only place in Seoul where I actually feel afraid to walk alone at night. Plus, every entry on Craiglist looked like this: *~*~*$$CHEAP APARTMENT GANGNAM NOT A SCAM!!$$*~*~*~

God bless sweet, Korean women. MyungSoo's mother has a realtor friend. When she found out I was looking for a new apartment, she called her friend immediately and sent her on the hunt. It only took a few days before she was ready to show me around. MyungSoo came too in order to give advice and to translate. Magically, the apartment-hunting process went from a horribly stressful affair to the easiest experience ever. The realtor did all of the haggling, and she was very good at it. After she complained that one apartment wasn't good enough, the owner tracked us down on the street and breathlessly admitted she would lower the price by over 100,000 won. In the end, she found me the perfect apartment. Okay, it's almost perfect. It's the size of a closet, and, instead of buying a bed, I'm going to invest in a Korean-style bed that rolls up at the end of the night because there isn't room for much else. But besides that, I love it. It's 30 seconds away from the subway and bus stops, there's no creepy landlord, it's fully furnished, and it doesn't smell bad. I also like that it's in a real Korean neighborhood, complete with gangs of old people relaxing on the sidewalk, selling the contents of their rooftop gardens.
 
One more story. MyungSoo and I went to Mass for the Assumption last Thursday. August 15th is also Korean Independence Day, the day they became free from Japanese rule. Therefore, when we went to Mass, the church was adorned with two giant Korean flags on either side of the altar. The bishop's homily was about reunification, and the closing hymn was the national anthem (which everyone sang so loudly and beautifully that I got a little bit emotional). It was quite an interesting experience.

Mary loves Korea!

Infant Birthday Parties and Shopping with Korean Parents

The other day, I learned the hard way that when Park's father asks you if you want to do something, your answer should always be no. This is not because Park's father is an unpleasant man. As a matter of fact, he's an incredibly nice man who has gone out of his way to make me feel welcome. On numerous occasions, he's taken me out to eat or even just picked me up in his cab (his latest hobby is driving a cab). In fact, I can't really describe the problem. Instead, I'll just tell you what happened. First, though, I'm going to tell you about my first experience at the Korean equivalent to a baby shower.

One of MyungSoo's friends recently had a baby. When a baby turns one year old it's traditional to have a party. Now, silly Westerner that I am, I thought this party was going to be a small get together at someone's house. Maybe there would be food, a few drinks, and people would pass the baby back and forth and admire how cute she is while chit-chatting about small baby things like diapers and breastfeeding. Silly me. The first birthday is a big deal. That means renting a room at a "birthday hall" with catered food, alcohol, an MC, music, and fancy disco lights. It also means traditional hanboks for the family and a table covered in traditional foods such as rice cakes and fresh fruit. There are all sorts of events to introduce the baby and the family, but the most important event comes last. The baby is presented with a platter full of toys. These toys represent things in the baby's future (usually job). Whichever toy the baby chooses will determine what that child will do when he or she grows up. Popular toys include a stethoscope (doctor), a mallet (lawyer), a pencil (good student), a ball of yarn (long life), as well as many others. MyungSoo says some parents also include a computer mouse in hopes that their child will become a pro gamer. This particular baby chose the ball of yarn. A good choice, I'd say. Anyway, it was a really cool experience. I got to eat tons of delicious food (Did you know that you can eat raw crab? It has a very fulfilling flavor.), and meet more of MyungSoo's friends.

We shall honor this baby with FOOD.

Anyway, it was after we returned to Seoul from the baby party, that we met Mr. Park. We were very tired. We were considering going to the sauna to bathe, sleep, eat, and drink. But we made the fatal mistake of deciding to stop by MyungSoo's house first. Mr. Park was there with MyungSoo's younger brother, KwangSoo, cleaning out the trunk of his cab. Somehow, a giant tub of spicy chili paste had burst open during transit and smeared its contents all over everything. It looked a lot like congealed blood and smelled a lot like your favorite spicy Korean food. It had a tendency to stick to everything and suddenly appear on your clothing if you let your guard down at all. When the last vestiges of gore had been removed from the trunk, Mr. Park decided (on a whim) that it would be totally awesome if we all went shopping together. Eagerly, he asked me. Not knowing my danger, I accepted. I thought it would be a simple trip. Maybe an hour at the most. Surely, not more that two hours. How very wrong I was.

Mr. Park decided that this needed to be a family outing. Mrs. Kim, his wife (In Korea, the women keep their name after marrying), was at work, so this was going to be a man's trip. KwangSoo and MyungSoo reluctantly smoked their last cigarettes. MinSoo said goodbye to his friends and signed out of his League of Legends account. We piled into the car. Then we drove less than a mile and got out again. Mr. Park had decided that the car needed to have its oil changed, and it needed to have it changed now. One of his many friends is a mechanic, so he took the car to his friend. Then, instead of waiting, he hopped in his friend's car, a giant, clunking van, and we drove off. Maybe it would have made more sense if I spoke Korean. However, to me, it seemed like a real life Grant Theft Auto.

We finally made it to the mall. Then we wandered...we wandered for hours. I'm certain we resembled the mafia. Imagine, if you will, Mr. Park in the front, wearing slacks and a button-down, older, kindly-looking, yet tough, picking up items, examining them, putting them back, perhaps remarking on the price. Flanking him, two burly young men, one of them short, muscular and tan, just fresh out of his army service, the other still in middle school but already almost taller than his brother, slightly chubby but certainly strong. They pass remarks back and forth, commenting on the price of fresh produce, but you're certain they're really discussing who to off next. Taking up the rear, the tallest of them all, a skinny, yet muscular young man, hardened from years of hard labor as the middle child. And behind this quadruple threat, a strange foreign girl, clearly confused and lost.

After three hours of shopping, the boys finally rebelled and told their father that they needed to go home. Our final purchases were as follows: two pink and green pillowcases, an ironing board, a block of cheese. That is it.This event also led KwangSoo to remark that if he ever got a girlfriend, he would never introduce her to his father. But I guess it could be worse. One of MyungSoo's exes was coerced into spending an entire day planting rice at the family farm.

The next day, I was at MyungSoo's house again and had the opportunity to run into his mother on her way to the store. She instantly enlisted her son to carry things (that's what sons are for, obviously). We were in and out in twenty minutes with a full week's worth of food. Boom. Moms are awesome.

How to Summer

Hello everyone, and welcome to the next exciting, action-packed episode of Tarico Goes to Korea! On today's episode we will discuss the many strange and exciting things you can do, should you ever decide to venture out into the crushing heat of a Korean summer.

Let's start it nice and simple with the Korean summer favorite, 팥빙수! (pronounced patbingsoo, or you can also say shaved ice flakes with sweet red bean and you'll still get the idea across.) At first, I was confused by the idea of eating ice flakes covered in fruit and beans. After all, why not just eat ice cream? However, the advantage of ice flakes is that you can eat as much as you want' and at no point will you feel like a giant, sticky hippo lumbering down the street on a humid day (Is that just me? Am I the only person who feels that way after too much ice cream? Is there such a thing as too much ice cream?). It's pretty delicious too, and every coffee shop and restaurant will have its own version. There's even one you can buy at the convenience store. Just add milk and enjoy!

I don't know who I am anymore.

Now that you've had your daily dose of sugar, it's time to go hide inside and not come out until long after the sun has gone down. Seriously. Ugh. Don't go outside unless it's raining. (Fortunately, it's also monsoon season, so there's been a lot of rain.) Anyway, once the sun has gone down, my favorite thing to do is to head to the banks of the Han River. While many cities' riverbanks are terrible places at night, the Han River is in fact an excellent place at night. The lights reflect on the water, the cicadas sing, and most of the human traffic are couples or old people out for their nighttime exercise. Park and I went there a few weeks ago to set off fireworks. It's amazing how deregulation makes everything so much more fun. We set off explosions, then enjoyed several beers, some makeoli, and a bucket of fried chicken. On the way home, I sprained my ankle, and Park carried me home (in the rain, of course, for added dramatic effect). All in a night's work.

But let's say the paltry distractions of summer are not enough for you, you adventuring soul! You want to escape the seething metropolis of Seoul! Well, first of all, good luck. Unfortunately for you, escaping a city with a population of over 10 million is actually very difficult. I know this because a few weeks ago, Park and I and another couple decided to take an overnight trip into the countryside. It was actually a great trip and I shall tell more later, but it actually turns out that traffic is a terrible beast, not to be underestimated. Even though our destination was only about 30 miles outside of Seoul, it took about three hours to get there. The entire drive was one long line of cars. However, I can't knock the entrepreneurial spirit of Korea. The side of the road was packed with enterprising adjummas and adjusshis who had set up stalls full of food, drinks, and (yes) even alcohol to sell to weary travelers.

"What's that? You want to drive in this lane? Not unless you buy my rice cakes."

Anyway, once we arrived at our destination, all was well once more. Which brings me to my favorite part about vacationing in Korea. Instead of staying in a smelly, possibly flea-infested hotel room, Koreans prefer what they called a "pension house". Basically, you rent a house for the weekend. Depending on what you want, you get a bed/bedding to sleep on the floor, a full kitchen, a patio, and the freedom to do whatever you want in your house because (after all) it is your house. There's no creepy room service kicking you out in the morning (just an adjusshi and his buddies in the office down the road, who smoke, play poker, and sneakily try to sell you things). We spent the day hiking and swimming, and spent the evening eating Korean BBQ and kimchi soup and drinking. That was also the night I discovered that cheap wine becomes less terrible when you mix it with soju. That last sentence is probably a crime. I apologize.

Of course, you can use pension houses on a large scale, too. My choir went on a trip to the West Sea, and we ended up with about thirty people staying in a three-room house much smaller than the average American home. However, it worked really well! The tables were small and portable, the bedding was a bunch of mats that fold up into the closet at the end of the night, and the kitchen combined with the outdoor grill was large enough to fulfill all food needs. I discovered that night that Koreans really really really love eating. Like, the food didn't stop coming. As soon as one dish was finished, there was another one already on its way: pork, then beef, then shrimp, then ramen, then dumplings, then back to pork, then rice cakes, then ramen mixed with dumplings and rice cake, then chips...all of this served up with a healthy dose of kimchi and many heavy doses of alcohol (Actually, the main point of the food, I think, is to accompany the alcohol.). We also had a pool and our own private yard. I'd say the best thing about a pension house is the feeling of being at home in a house that isn't yours. It really makes vacationing a lot more fun.

Being a complete stranger to Korea (and also not knowing the language) means that most things are a complete surprise for me. When our choir went on our trip, I mostly had no idea what to expect. For example, I had no idea that we'd end up at a bunch of beautiful Buddhist temples.

Surprise! Feel the beauty of nature!

 I also had no idea about the West Sea. The West Sea, it turns out, has an extremely low tide. It is so low, in fact, that the sea completely vanishes, leaving behind over a mile of mud. During the day, people can go out into the sea and collect the fish or shellfish left behind in the mud. The night, however, is a different story. The island we visited is in close proximity to North Korea. Because of this, there are lookout posts stationed all along the sea. Low tide is considered especially dangerous, as an enterprising (probably foolhardy) individual could go for a walk in one part of the peninsula and end up in another. Well, little old me had no idea about the lookout posts or even about how creepy low tide looks at night. To me, it looked like a completely alien landscape that absolutely HAD to be explored. I removed my shoes and went squelching through the mud. A few seconds later, I was in the center of a searchlight, angry Korean voices yelling at me, (probably) telling me I was a dumbass and I needed to return to shore immediately or risk being shot. My friend later informed me that the soldiers have orders to shoot anyone they see walking around at low tide.

New planet to explore or deathtrap of mud and bullets? You decide!

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I almost became dead at the hands of the Korean coast guard. (Or not. My friend said they all ignore their orders to shoot because, ya know, there are a lot of dumbass civilians around.)

Choir ladies.

I just wanted to include these pictures so people know I have friends and we do cool things.

Funeral

It's been a busy last few weeks, and only some of those busy things have been happy. On the happy side, my best friend, Ellen, came to visit for a few weeks, and we're having a good time pilfering Korea's soju supplies. But on the sad side, MyungSoo's maternal grandfather died last Friday, and it's been a very difficult week for him and his family. I don't want to go into too many personal details, but I think I will, at least, talk about traditional Korean funerals, since I think most people have never been to one and therefore have no idea what they involve.

In America, it takes a few days after someone's death to assemble the family and make the funeral preparations. Not so in Korea. Mr. Kim died on Friday, and the funeral began early on Saturday morning. Korean funerals last for three days, and are pretty intense for the family. On Saturday morning, the rite began with the whole family getting together while the doctors cleaned the body and prepared him for burial. I don't know too much about this part because I couldn't go. The rest of Saturday and all day Sunday were much like a wake, except quite different. Upon arrival, it is polite to first greet the deceased. There was a small room with many flowers, a picture of Mr. Kim, and a table laden with over thirty different types of food. The food is there, by the way, so that the spirit of the dead person can eat. The family feeds him several times a day, leaving the room for about fifteen minutes so that he can eat in peace. In front of the table of food is a smaller table with a vigil candle and some incense. In order to pay your respect to the deceased, you have to bow down to the ground two times and then once at the waist, then light a stick of incense. Mr. Kim's oldest son was also in the room, and I said hello to him, feeling obviously nervous and self-conscious the entire time.

After paying your respect, it's proper to sign the guest book and then put some money in an envelope for the family. So far, I wasn't too surprised, but then I entered the next room to discover MyungSoo's entire family waiting to feed me. You see, at Korean funerals, the family of the deceased actually serves the guests. I can imagine that all this work was incredibly tiring, but I guess it's good as well. When you're serving other people food and seeing to their needs, you don't have time to dwell upon your own sadness. I spent all day Sunday at the funeral and got to meet the entire family. Though it was a very sad occasion, I can say that I genuinely enjoyed meeting everyone, especially MyungSoo's little cousins (about eight of them between the ages of 2 and 9), who decided I was the coolest ever, and his grandmother, whose sweetness and hospitality reminded me of my own maternal grandmother. I also got to meet his three other brothers, and we managed to take a break in between serving guests to have a few drinks together. It's a testament to their grandfather's character that there were so many people there.

Instead of going home to their respective houses on Sunday night, the entire family stayed at the funeral home and kept vigil. On Monday morning, they all traveled out to the gravesite, which, according to tradition, is on a mountainside.

The Real Korea

Korea isn't all shopping malls, coffee shops, and wild, drunken parties that spill over into the street. That's just Gangnam. Once you get outside of Seoul, in fact, you'll discover that much of Korea is farmland. MyungSoo's grandfather (God rest his soul) was a farmer, and he often recruited his reluctantly obedient grandsons to help him plant rice. Even within Seoul, there are some areas that seem like they belong to an entirely different city. While Myeongdong and Gangnam are centers of consumerism and literally overflowing with money and every chain restaurant (from my perch on the second floor of a cafe called Coffeesmith, I can see two Smoothie Kings, two competing bakery chains, two movie theaters, and at least five cosmetics and jewelry stores. Oh, and Taco Bell, probably the best thing to come to Gangnam since Krispy Kreme.), there are other areas of Seoul where the streets are so narrow, only a motorcycle can fit between buildings, where the adjumma's sell raw fish and fresh vegetables from makeshift wheelbarrows, where everything is suspiciously cheap, and where you wonder if any of the businesses have operating licenses. Now, that's not a criticism of Korea. It actually adds a lot of color. If Seoul were nothing but upscale, overpriced bars, I would be very disappointed indeed. So, without further ado, let me introduce you to what I would like to believe is the "real" Korea.

Important vocabulary:
Adjumma means "old lady". But they are more than your average old ladies. They survived the Korean War and rebuilt their country on pure willpower alone. They are both incredibly tough and also incredibly sweet. If you respect an adjumma, she will reward you will smiles and blessings and maybe some delicious food. If you disrespect an adjumma, she will cuss you out then wipe the streets clean with your carcass. In my opinion, adjummas are part of what make Korea great. They're strong, they are stubborn, but they are also hospitable and generous. They also have a rocking sense of style.

Adjusshi means "old man". In my experience, they are stubborn, old men who like to hang out with their buddies and drink. They also like to offer alcohol to strangers, just because. They respect the adjummas, as is proper.

A few weeks ago, I met MyungSoo's father for the first time. His father speaks no English, unfortunately, but we hit it off pretty well. About halfway through dinner, he asked me if I liked to sing. I said yes. He then asked me if I would like to sing at a neighborhood festival that he was organizing. In my confusion, I thought that surely he must be joking. After all, who would ever want a foreigner, who is by no means a professional singer, to perform at a public event. So I said yes, I would do it. That was my mistake. Mr. Park was very serious. The day of the festival got closer and closer, and it was soon revealed that Mr. Park wanted his son and I to sing a duet. In English. In a karaoke competition. In front of a crowd of adjummas and adjusshis.

Don't look away. They can smell fear.

I was incredibly nervous and even tried to back out of it, but Mr. Park insisted. And, in the end, I'm glad he did. Our rendition of the incredibly cheesy duet, "Way Back Into Love", was a hit with the crowd, and the judges decided to award MyungSoo and I a "special prize". I could not win the other prizes (First prize: a TV. Second prize: a bike. Third prize: a large bag of rice.) because they were purchased with government money and were therefore only available to Korean citizens. My special prize turned out to be four tubes of toothpaste and a set of glass bowls. I also received six bars of soap for a feat I will now relate to you, my captive audience.

It turns out the festival was an all-day thing. It started around noon and went all the way until 8 PM. The weather was blistering hot, yet Korea's senior citizens refused to move. In fact, as the afternoon wore on, they became increasingly active. The street behind the stage area was filled with tents of delicious food (grilled chicken, kimchi, beef and noodles, seafood pancakes, and all sorts of sweets) and alcohol (makeoli and soju. duh.). Naturally, everyone ate their fill. MyungSoo and I sat down for lunch, only to have a group of adjusshis insist that we do shots with them. We were also gifted with some inch-long grubs and told to take good care of them so they could become two-inch-long beetles that we could care for as pets. I would post a picture, but I don't want to make anyone feel ill.

Meanwhile, on the stage, there were various distractions. Everyone's favorite, however, was a local comedian who's gig involved dressing as a homeless man and then stripping to reveal sexy pink underwear. He accosted the guests and local politicians, who rewarded him with vast sums of money.

None can resist the sex appeal of the homeless.

Speaking of local politicians, they were all there, graciously acquiescing to every potentially embarrassing request by the emcee. And here's where we get to the part about me winning some free soap (it's made with barley!). At some point, the mayor found himself on stage, performing karaoke for the adoring masses. By this point, most of the adjusshis were drunk, and the adjummas were demonstrating that, while they may be in their seventh, eighth, or even ninth decades, they are perfectly capable of rocking out. So, when a crowd of drunk, dancing old people demands that you get up and sing "Gangnam Style", you do it. The only problem was that the poor mayor did not know the words. Enter MyungSoo, the biggest Psy fan north of the Han River. Within a few seconds, MyungSoo was handed a mic and rushed on stage, where he impressed the masses with his rapping prowess. But this show was clearly not enough of a spectacle. Mr. Park spotted me, now alone and unprotected. He grabbed my arm, dragged me to the stage, and ordered me to dance. Shortly thereafter, a group of over-enthusiastic adjummas rushed the stage. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how my boyfriend and I performed "Gangnam Style" with a local politician for the amusement of Korea's elderly citizens. For my efforts, the emcee rewarded me with taxpayer-money-purchased soap. When it was all over, MyungSoo and I went to a meat buffet. All-you-can-eat meat for only 10,000 won. It was something that I only thought existed in my dreams.

All in all, it was an awesome experience and one that most foreigners will never be able to have. So, thank you, Mr. Park for forcing me to sing. And thanks for all this toothpaste, too. I'm not really sure what I'm going to do with it all, but at least I know I won't have to buy toothpaste for the next year or so.

I'm a winner!

Been Away Too Long

Yes, I'm still alive! Contrary to popular belief, there was zero threat of North Korean bombing Seoul, and, despite my frequent excursions into "strange food" territory (silkworm pupa soup, fish egg soup, chicken feet, pig feet, etc.), nothing bad has happened to me or my stomach yet. Since my last post, spring has finally arrived, and the bitterly cold winds have been replaced by light breezes and the pleasant scent of cherry blossoms (I may be exaggerating on that one. The smell of kimchi always lingers.).

The title of this article refers to many things. It could refer to the fact that my middle schoolers just came back to class after a prolonged exam break, and I had to forcefully remind myself that they are not sweet nine-year-olds with short attention spans, but rather hormone-packed creatures just waiting to walk all over me. The poor kids had to take their level up exams today, too, so they were particularly cranky. The writing exam went really well, actually, and even sparked a discussion of how awesome Iron Man 3 is, but about halfway through the TOEFL exam (a test, by the way, that most native speakers have a hard time with), a lot of them just gave up. One boy drew me a lovely picture of the continental United States (yet mysteriously replaced most of New England with a state called Theresa), while another boy just muttered curse words in Korean and marked answers at random. Yet, still, I love my students. Even the punk guys who sit in the back and pretend to sleep because they think it will impress girls.

I could also say I've been away for too long because I finally made a trip back to the States. I spent the first week of April back on the homestead, enjoying simple things like continuously running shower water, a living space larger than a walk-in closet, a car and an empty highway to drive it on, and all the home-cooked food I could possibly want. It's the simple things in life that matter. I may not have mentioned it before, but since moving to Korea, I've lost about 25 pounds and gone down about two jean sizes. It's actually pretty great because it means I can dress like an uber-fashionable Korean girl. Needless to say, my mother took this new skinniness as sign of serious food deprivation, and set to work providing me with all manner of delicious foods.

Unfortunately, I also spent most of the trip in a haze of sickness and jet-lag. I should back up a bit and explain. About two weeks before my trip, I came down with a lingering cold and fever that kept getting worse and worse. I was determined to be healthy for my trip home, so, in desperation, I turned to a Korean doctor. I should have known it was a bad idea when he handed me a prescription for four mysterious pills and the nurse told me to pull down my pants so I could get a shot of steroids in my posterior. But I stuck with it because, hey, he's a doctor, right? By the day of my departure, the pills (whatever they were) had eliminated my cold symptoms, but replaced them with insomnia, nausea, and extreme dehydration. I was so miserable that I even tried to make myself vomit on the plane in hopes that I could somehow rid myself of whatever miserable thing had lodged itself in my body. Anyway, to make a long story short, I was finally recovered by the middle of the week (but not before falling asleep at the dinner table several times), at which point the cold-flu-virus-thing returned. A nice, American doctor gave me a stern lecture about trying "foreign" doctors, and then handed me an antibiotic. All was well once again.

I recently passed the nine month mark, and while that may not seem like a long time in the grand scheme of things, it has been a very long time in terms of life events. Sometimes it feels like I've just paused my life, and that as soon as I go back home, things will start back up again exactly as they were. But, of course, it hasn't been that way at all. Since coming to Korea, I've missed all sorts of things. My best friend from childhood just had a beautiful baby girl. Another friend just got married. My sister-in-law is pregnant with her fourth child, a child I probably won't get to see for a very long time.

But don't think I'm sad. I'm back in Korea and having a blast. The most obvious reason for my post's title is that I have indeed been away from this blog for far too long. Here's a short list of things that have happened since then.

1. Psy released a new song called "Gentleman". I have no idea how Americans feel about it, although I suspect it's about the same as Korea's. It's either, "this is awesome!" or "ew. what?" It has subsequently been banned from public broadcasting in Korea, partly because of the sexual humor, partly because Psy is too funny for public broadcasting to appreciate, partly because the seemingly innocuous lyrics are not quite so innocuous (the lyrics "mother father gentleman" are a clever way of getting around Korean censorship laws), but also mostly because of this:

Psy: public menace to traffic cones

2. I started studying Korean. So far, I suck. My pathetic utterances puzzle strangers and make my boyfriend giggle.

3. Speaking of my boyfriend, things continue to prosper. Park is a gentleman and a scholar. We'll be celebrating our 100 days anniversary this coming weekend. 100 days is a big deal in Korean culture, so it's no surprise that couples also make it a big deal. On Saturday, we'll be singing in a karaoke competition that Park's father is hosting (I'm a little confused about the details. Park's dad doesn't speak any English.), and on Sunday we'll be going to Mass together and then visiting Lotte World, the Korean version of Disneyland. I'm really excited, and I'm looking forward to 100 more days and beyond.

Gratuitous couple photo on the Han River

4. My best friend, Ellen, is coming to Korea in about nine days to also work for Chungdahm. Things are about to get really really interesting over here.

5. North Korea threatened to bomb the hell out of South Korea, and South Koreans remained resolutely unconcerned, as usual. Meanwhile, the American media blew out of proportion every half-coherent mutter from our favorite pig-like dictator's mouth. I kept getting emails from people, asking me if I was worried, if I was still alive, and if I was planning on returning to America in order to escape the nuclear inferno that was soon to be Seoul. Oh, please. While I thank the masses for their concern (seriously, I'm touched!), there isn't much danger. Also take note that the America media (and subsequently, the American public) have completely forgotten about the "crisis" already. That's because there was no crisis, and they got bored with speculating that maybe a missile, if it got lost on its way to Japan, could hit Hawaii.

There are a lot more things, but I've talked for too long already, and I should probably study some more Korean now. I guess I should also put on my armor and prepare to do battle with my middle schoolers. Seriously, on Tuesday, I return to my classroom to find they had turned their scrap paper into perfect spheres and were throwing them around the room with destructive force. Kids, that is not how you play baseball.

Until next time.

tarico

P.S. Yes, the title of this post is also the title of the first track on the long-awaited new Soundgarden album, "King Animal". It's quite good, so go give it a listen.

How to Entertain Yourself

Before I get on to "Integration Part Two: Fill in the blank with something smart", I figured I should educate the masses on the many ways to entertain oneself while in Korea. First of all, let me remind you that Korea is a country that, in the short space of about sixty years, has developed a freakishly successful economy and an unquenchable thirst for consumerism. America, you think you know how to consume? Korea will zerg-rush all over your pitiful Terran base before you've even started building space marines. (Hm...I think I got lost in my metaphor there. Whatever. Korea's good at Starcraft AND at buying things.) Here are a few novel ways I've found to entertain myself while in Korea.

1. Go to the movies. Okay, movies here are pretty much the same, but if you have a significant other, you can rent a couch at the back of the theater and snuggle your way through the latest American action-thriller. Or the latest Korean psychological-thriller. Just don't expect any subtitles.

2. Karaoke. I've probably talked about this before, but I cannot emphasize how much I love karaoke in Asia. (Or noraebang, as it's called in Korea, which literally translates to "song room".) Unlike the horrible narcissistic experience that is karaoke in America, in Asia you can rent a small room with only you and your friends and drunkenly serenade each other (which, I might mention, is as it should be. It is never okay to sing "A Whole New World" or some other monstrosity to a bar full of strangers.) Depending on the place you go to, you can either pay by the hour or pay by the amount of food and booze you purchase. If you want to keep singing after several rounds of somaek (soju + beer), all you have to do is order more fried food and more beer, and you can keep going. The fun never ends and most places are open 24/7! So maybe it's 3 am and you want to go home, but the trains and buses have stopped running and that taxi driver looks suspiciously drunk. Instead of giving up and sleeping on a bench, just go to a noraebang and prepare for the next round. In two hours, you can get on the train and go home. Never give up.

3. Multi-room. So maybe noraebang isn't your thing. Maybe you hate singing or maybe those unsophisticated rice-eaters don't have your favorite Florence and the Machine song. Never fear. There is the entertainment monolith, the multi-room. Inside each multi-room you will find karaoke, many many movies, and the latest iterations of playstation, nintendo, and xbox. All of this is situated around a comfy couch in your own private room. It's like being at home, except you don't have to pay the massive electricity bill and snacks and drinks are available at the push of a button.

4. PC room. So maybe you don't feel like using the multi-room. Maybe you just want to get your Diablo III on in a place where no one can yell at you to get off the computer and go play outside. And maybe you also want to be able to quest without having to get up for those annoying snack breaks or cigarette breaks. And maybe you're also too poor to get your own top-of-the-line gaming PC and pay for the internet and electricity bill that comes with it. The PC-bang is for you! These places are everywhere and they're ridiculously cheap. It's something like $1 per hour and at the push of a button, they'll bring you whatever snacks you desire. My students frequent these places because it's a good excuse to avoid both school and parents, both of whom make you study instead of getting that top League of Legends score. Whenever I discuss games with my middle school students, by the way, I discover that some of them are actually ranked LOL players, and they spend their free time practicing rather than studying. Park recently told me that he and his friend set out to beat Diablo III in 5 hours, but were disappointed when they beat it in 12 hours instead. America, do you still wonder why Korea dominates online gaming?

5. Korean television. I could probably devote an entire post to the wonders of Korean television. I can't even understand it, but it's still beautiful. Korean television thrives on what they call "variety shows". Basically, they take comedy, fuse it with a talk show, then film it like a reality show. Many shows exist on the premise of making celebrities do embarrassing things or feature comedians trying to pass "missions", which involve things like piling ten fat people dressed as 80's-style mafia into a minivan and then making another ridiculously-dressed person pull the car for a certain distance. One show, called "Shinhwa Broadcast" features the k-pop group Shinhwa and has no other purpose than to dress the bandmembers in funny costumes while making them compete against each other to earn points that don't matter. Such challenges involve dressing as women, screaming for extended periods of time, and eating terrible food without showing emotion.

My favorite show is a masterpiece called Gag Concert. It's like SNL except consistently funny. Basically, the show is divided into a series of skit segments, all of which feature a "gag". For example, they have one right now called "The Tired Family", which features a family doing ordinary tasks...all while carrying people on their backs. Normal things like eating or picking up the phone become almost impossible. For example:
Dad: "Grandpa, Mrs. Kim is on the phone for you!"
Grandpa: *emerges carrying an enormous fat man on his back* "Oh yay! Mrs. Kim is my favorite person! Where's the phone?"
Dad: "It's on the second floor."
Grandpa: "...Tell her I'm dead!"

Poor grandpa.

"Son, if you can do three push-ups, I'll give you more allowance."

Here are some other skits.
1. "The Selfish Patent Office", in which caricatures of the CEOs of Apple and Samsung compete for patents. Most of their inventions are super ridiculous things like the t-shirt that transforms from office attire to clubbing attire or the pants that transform into a blanket for your girlfriend to sit on.

2. "Father and Son", in which an overweight father and son obsess over eating. The comedic timing is brilliant. You never quite know what the punchline is going to be, but you know it's going to be about food.

3. "Brave Guys". Brave Guys is one of my favorites. It starts off with a guy getting dumped, at which point his misery is interrupted by the intrusion of the fictitious hip-hop group, Brave Guys. They then proceed to show the audience how brave they are by insulting the director of the show, insulting various celebrities, and making incredibly un-PC statements about world politics. They then launch into a song about male and female interactions as a way of explaining how the dumped guy messed up.

The spirit of hip-hop.

4. "Four Men". Four Men has to be my favorite. It's pretty simple, really. Four men appear, each of whom has a trait that women don't like: unpopular, unsophisticated, short, and fat. They then each take a turn standing on a podium and ranting. Each rant concerns an event from their lives and ends with the statement, "So please don't misunderstand me." It's the ultimate in self-mockery for the sake of humor.

The four men of Gag Concert.

If you want to check out Gag Concert for yourself, here's a link to the subbing site I use.

Finally, here's a video that the Korean Air Force made. It's a parody of Les Miserables, and it's far superior to the recent movie. It also makes you wonder just how bored these guys must be during their two years of required military service.