So we moved to South Korea
BIG DEAL.
How much of an impact on your life can it really have?
First of all the Vegetarianism/Veganism.
It’s not a title we claim anymore. Let’s face it, we don’t speak the language and our ordering tactic pretty much consists of looking at the wall

and picking the third one from the left. (Or right, got to mix it up a little every now and again.)
This is how we ended up with the fish head stew*.

It was part of our cultural growth, which we have now passed and will never visit on again.
The term most accurate in describing our dietary disposition now is: I’m-annoyed-by-this-but-will-eat-it-lest-we-starve-itarians.
Charades
We rock at it.
No, seriously. We have absolutely no idea what people around us are saying and vice versa. Fully submerge yourself in a country like that and your charades skills will skyrocket. I have even made charade inquisitions which lasted shorter than had I asked it in a language I’m familiar with.
Then again, it’s taken us maybe 7 hours in total spread out over 3 weeks to figure out how to get garbage bags.
You see, in Seoul, apparently, you are not allowed to put your trash outside in any old plastic bag. Nor in a generic black garbage bag. Even if the translation on the bag is “galbage bage”. No, the garbage bag you use is issued by your local gu’s office (where a gu is a part of the city, so in our case: Songpa-gu) and is clearly marked (we guess) with marking indicating that you can put this outside in your own gu.
These garbage bags, according to the guidebook, are sold by pretty much any local conbini (They have little convenience stores on every corner here, much as in Japan) except that they’re not on the shelves. The generic garbage bags, however, ARE on the shelves. But after two weeks the cleaning lady started delivering back our garbage. This indicated we were running out of time figuring this out as that stuff doesn’t stay fresh for long usually. Try charading garbage bags, I dare you. It wasn’t till one I got my hands on an actual (used) garbage bag that I was able to get my point across and I was sent to . . . the conbini.
Armed with my used garbage bag (smelling slightly of ashes) I made my way back to the big combini. Yes, she had garbage bags. Under the counter, obviously for her own use. WHERE (어디) DO YOU BUY (wallet tapping) THOSE (point at garbage bag).
-nothing-
She kept grasping the bags desperately going for the good old “My engrish bad” option after a strained silence.
OK, luckily for us there is a guy around here who does speak very passable English (He’s modest about it, but he’s also far superior in English skill than any Korean I’ve accidentally met) who took me by the hand to a different combini and yes . . . . you have to buy your garbage bags here from under the counter. Propped away so the casual shopper won’t see it.
There’s a couple of things which spring to mind being sold from under the counter.
Garbage bags isn’t one of them
Epilogue, noone can really tell me what the things are called, so we have 4 garbage bags now and before we use the last one we will take it to the combini, wave it in the teller’s face and say MORE
Also, it would be nice if we could figure out why the old Korean ladies who take away our trash keep returning our bottles.
Being comfortable around naked Koreans
Ok, this wasn’t really a biggy, a year in Japan prepared us for this quite well. Besides, we’re both blind as a bat. I just do my business in a foggy room filled with slowly moving Korean coloured blobs.
Thing is though . . .
You feel sensitive about certain things. When I came to Korea I had a massive headcold and you know what happens when you have a massive headcold and you take a shower (or eat hot food). Stuff comes out. So you’re sitting there, in the mist, with all these Koreans and you blow like a foghorn. And again. And again. Aaaaaaand you’re starting to feel the eyes of the others on your back as your nosedrippings slowly make their way to the sink and you hope it doesn’t have to pass other people’s feet on the way.
There’s other things though. Both Raph and myself preen certain areas for euhm . . . hygiene purposes.
I’m OK walking into a room with naked Koreans.
I’m OK with them scrubbing each other’s back, and it’s been done to us, perfectly natural.
I’m OK with the genitalia flopping around
I’m OK with the little naked kids running around
I’m OK with the nose blowing
I’m OK with the deep buttcrack towel sawing
Shaving my balls in front of other people?
No, not OK with that.
Living together
We used to spend about 42 hours every two weeks together. We’d long for when we’d see/touch/taste each other again. It was torture (sweet, but torture non the less) to be apart.
Now we’re together pretty much all the time outside of when we go to the communal baths (which are segregated)
We haven’t broken up.
Yet
Spreading Happiness
We do this a lot
At random things we do we make people laugh
Haven’t quite worked out where our comedic talents spring from
But people like us a lot. Or at least, there’s the laughing.
.
P.S. Ik heb m’n blog tweetalig gemaakt voor diegene die dit liever int nederlands lezen. Bovenaan rechts vind je een keuzemenu voor English/Nederlands. Ook onderaan tweetalige posts kan je de opmerking “Deze post is ook te lezen in: Dutch” vinden.
* Picture does not represent the reality of the food we were served.
===============================================================================================
Even a fish wouldn’t get into trouble if it kept its mouth shut
- Korean proverb