Warmth
By Sarah Muscutt, ETA ’16-’17 It wasn’t a real job because the English Teacher was never hired, never paid, never depended on. Her pay came instead in the form of a little warm feeling of comfort that tasted just like a crunchy fish-shaped pancake filled with sweet cream. The owner of 김밥천국 Johnny and his wife used to be English teachers, and maybe that’s what made her return every day; the need to communicate with ease about anything, or nothing, at least once a day. Johnny’s somewhat mournful musings on life, marriage, and politics injected enough life into her October evenings to put a thin barrier between the English Teacher and the clawing anxiety, whose relentless hands painted dark, threatening streaks across the landscape of any quiet moment, strangled the words in her throat, and switched her beating heart with cold metal. After hardly speaking to anyone all day, how could she make small talk, in Korean no less, with her carpool companion who was head teacher and host-father, on the ride home that never seemed to end? Just drop me off in town please, I’ll see you later. Peeking her head inside the plastic flaps at 5:30pm, she exhaled a cheery 안녕하세요, willing the iron replica of her heart to pump real blood into her cold hands. She watched over Johnny’s shoulder as he stirred MSG into 카리덮밥 and 치즈라면, and hoped for a day she would be able to remember the specific formulation of every menu item. Predictably, her time in the kitchen ruined her appreciation of small 김밥집 cuisine, but she would never tire of pouring the batter into the fish-shaped cast iron, and trying to create the perfect, golden brown snacks. The English teacher made the mistake of leaving 김밥천국 and 치즈라면 too early that day. 7:30pm had come and gone, so she would have to wait for the 8:05pm bus. The temperature had dropped making no apologies to her nose, so she ambled back along the sidewalk away from the bus stop, unsure of where to get out of the cold. Before reaching the crosswalk, she glanced to her left and spotted a tiny florist shop. It was the kind of shop she always passed on her way to somewhere else. She would often peer inside, squinting through a hazy blur of leafy shadows at the tiny potted cactuses and single roses enfolded in dainty brown paper. Florists shops in the US never seemed as magical as this, and she felt like an intruder window shopping into a secret garden, wishing for a break in time that would allow her enter the otherworld suggested in the window. I would be happy if I could just have a cute little windowsill plant to love, she often mused uselessly. On a whim, The English Teacher pushed open the door and tiptoed into the shop, thinking she could avoid the cold just like she was avoiding her anxiety, not forever, and not until the bus came, but just for right now. Exploring the little warm shop would eat up a few minutes, and the bus stop was only a few steps away. However, on entering she realized the shop was even smaller than it looked from the window–so small, in fact, that the owners spotted her immediately, and the English teacher had to explain in her childish, halting Korean that she was just trying to get out of the chill while waiting for her bus. Shrinking into the ‘foreigner’ garment that, though it felt both too big and too small simultaneously, was becoming a familiar part of her wardrobe, and pointing her nose at different plants in a show of looking around, the English Teacher thought about her reasons for spending evenings at 김밥천국 instead of studying Korean. She remembered a time when she claimed studying Korean as one of her main reasons for moving to Korea, but lately she avoided even speaking to her host family when possible. Shame made her feel small. At home in her skin in the US, she was used to coming off just a little too sensitive, awkward, self aware, and off-beat. Here though, her skin felt too loose, like the seed of herself was shriveling up and disappearing. Fortunately, her thoughts were interrupted as the mother shop owner beckoned her to sit on the heated platform in the back of the shop. On the TV a drama was playing. The English Teacher accepted the seat gratefully and perched next to the mother. The father, thin and tall, hair starting to recede and wisping up from his head, crossed his arms in the back corner, distant curiosity flickering in his eyes. A woman stood next to the mother, the daughter, of indiscriminate age. Her ponytail said she cared more about the substance of things, and the tangerine peels falling from her hands scented the air of the shop with a subtle tang. They all had forgettable faces, but as the family asked her the usual questions about teaching and her life in Korea, and together they mused over the antics of the drama characters, the iron trap around the English teacher’s heart released. Inhaling deeply into this wonderful new space in her chest, she asked who was the villain of the drama, and why was he searching for a key? When they pressed tangerines into her palms, the mother and daughter’s hands were as warm and soft as the skin on a sleeping child’s neck. The English Teacher’s heart nestled into this warmth and tangerine sweetened her tongue. Koreans are truly remarkable, she thought, not for the first time. Her heart beat peacefully ticked off the seconds, and the air tingled with the sound of a tiny bell on a string as she pushed open the door and waved behind her. 안녕히계세요. Stay in peace. The next evening, when The English Teacher passed the florist on her way to the bus stop at the more reasonable time of 8pm, she stopped and
City Guide Review: Shabu Maxim
Review by Monica Heilman, ETA 2014-2015 City: Gimhae (김해) Restaurant Name: Shabu Maxim (샤브막심) Food Served: Shabu Shabu Restaraunt Address: 경상남도 김해시 해반천로 34-9 View Map Directions: On the Busan-Gimhae light rail, get off at Yeonji Park station and exit left, crossing a bridge and heading down stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, go straight until reaching traffic lights. You’ll see Shabu Maxim up ahead, slightly to the right. (For an alternative route with a sidewalk, exit right from the station and walk in the opposite direction of the stairs. At the intersection, turn right. The restaurant will be on your left.) Cost: 13,000 KRW for lunch, 16,000 KRW for dinner Shabu Maxim in Gimhae is a very new restaurant that just opened at the start of this year (2015). There is another branch in Haeundae, Busan. As it’s still new, the facilities (including bathrooms) are in excellent condition and very clean. There’s even a small play area for babies and toddlers. My favorite thing about the restaurant, besides the food itself, is the space, which is open and well-lit, with huge windows to let in natural light. I’ve gone twice, both times in a large group with a reservation and sat at large tables on the second floor. The menu is your typical shabu shabu fare – raw beef that you cook in your own boiling broth, veggies and rice paper for making wraps, noodles as a second course, and a third course of juk/rice porridge with egg. If you haven’t had shabu shabu yet, it’s definitely a must-try and be prepared to eat A LOT. What’s unique about Shabu Maxim is that they’ve nixed the Korean tradition of sharing dishes and given each person their own individual pot of broth. This means you also receive separate servings of noodles and rice porridge – so you can’t rely on someone else even if you’re getting full. During my second visit, our group also got dessert, which was a choice between ice cream, iced coffee or iced tea. While I opted for coffee, some of my coworkers still had room for ice cream, which was a single scoop of vanilla. Unfortunately, the iced coffee was far too sweet for my taste, but stick with the shabu shabu and you’ll be more than satisfied.
City Guide Review: Coffee Namoo (Busan)
Review by Ivan Liang, ETA 2014-2015 City: Busan (부산) Restaurant Name: Coffee Namoo (커피 나무) Food Served: Coffee, drinks and sweets Restaraunt Address: 부산광역시 사하구 낙동남로 1406-1 View Map Directions: Come out of Hadan Station Exit 4. To your right should be the Gangseo Mart 강서마트 on the corner of the street. Take a left and go down that street, away from the big main street. To your left should be Namoo Coffee. Cost: About 4000₩ for a drink and 5000₩ for dessert A small, quaint coffee shop that is squeezed into a hole in the wall right off the busy main avenue of Hadan, one of Busan’s transportation hubs that connects it with the surrounding towns, villages, and a massive Samsung facility. The place is quite small and only has seating for 4, with a small bar seating 3 more almost impossibly located right next to the entrance. But it has a charm that many of Korea’s bigger coffee chains don’t really have. The counter top is rough paneled wood that has seen many open days and the tables are nestled right up against bookshelves crowded with well worn pages. Actual books! Some are even in English! The coffee is lovingly made slowly and with care, the baristas operating their chrome Victoria Arduino espresso machine or grinding your coffee by hand before making your coffee to order. With a small sitting area and most people coming to get their coffee to go before the morning rush hour or to sustain a long work day, you can easily come here and be alone with your work, studies, or thoughts. It can also make an intimate, off the beaten path dating spot that’s not a Starbucks or Angel-in-Us.