Korean Job Discussion Forums

[Ck10n3]

Hello all,

I am currently trying to get a teaching position in Korea, and I will need a visa. I was going to get an E2, but realized it might be possible to get an F4.

Long story short, I am half Korean and half Caucasian. I was born in the US, my mother as well, and my father was born in Korea (Unsu-ri, Hwakae-myon, Hadong-kun is what it says on the family census register).

I was in Seoul to visit my father, he was passing away at the time (1995). I was 8 years old at the time, 14 years ago now. I have lost contact with my family in Korea. I have only met them that once, and the conditions were not productive. None of my relatives spoke English, so no contact was possible after leaving, and now I have lost all contact together!

I would love to go to Korea to teach English. I would be able to teach, help kids out, learn about my heritage, and possibly meet my family! BUT I am not sure about the process of finding them.

The Korean Consulate says I need to find the ward office in which my family is registered. I have a family registry from 1986, but I am not included. The last page is stamped:

Bum Heung Foundation Itaewon Agency Office
(Illegible numbers) Itaewon Dong
Yongsan-Ku, Seoul Korea

Would this be the ward office?

What do you all suggest about trying to find them?

[Chamchiman]

Nobody has replied to your thread yet, so I�ll just think out loud.

First of all, that village is in the middle of NOWHERE. It�s near Ssanggyesa in Hadong County. Here�s a map of the region:

http://local.daum.net/map/index.jsp?pos=652969|481396&name=%BD%D6%B0%E8%BB%E7%B5%B9%BC%DC%B9%E4%C1%FD&map_type=TYPE_SKYVIEW&map_hybrid=true

Zoom out on the map a little to see the area. (If you click to zoom out just once, �하동군 화개면 운수리� will appear. That�s Hadong County, Hwagae Town, Unsu Village.)

If you slide over on the map a little to the left, you'll see the small town at the entrance to Ssanggye Temple (쌍계사) (near the stream and Highways 1023 and 1014). That area is also Unsu Village.

If you want to find the �ward office�, I�d guess that the Hwagae Town Office would be a good place to start. Here�s the link:

http://www.hadong.go.kr/program/publicsil/?Kwa01Code=a_hwagae

and a map to the office:

http://local.daum.net/map/index.jsp?pos=642228|469659&name=%C8%AD%B0%B3%B8%E9%BB%E7%B9%AB%BC%D2&map_type=TYPE_SKYVIEW&map_hybrid=true

I�ve never been in your situation, but I know from experience that if you just go to Unsu Village and start asking around for the 이장님 (ee-jang-neem � the local village representative) then somebody will put you in touch with him. He�d be as good a person to start with as any (if you actually want to start at the source). Find a big store near the entrance to Ssanggye Temple � most of the older locals will probably know who he is.

Good luck. Bump the thread if you find your relatives.

[KoreaninKorea]

Go to http://www.goal.or.kr/

They helped me with my f4. They are a nonprofit organization who help people who have been adopted.

[Ck10n3]

Thank you for the help! I am still searching <3

[Ck10n3]

Wow, that was a lot easier than I had ever thought it would be. Here I sat, at home, on my computer, Googling and Googling away for many hours in summation with no luck at all. I once believed in the power of the internet to answer all of my worldly unanswerables, but it's lack of product greatly diminished my belief in Google's cyberworldly omnipotence. All it took was a half kilogram of calories, foot power, man power, in the real world. Who woulda thunk it?

I was contacted on Wednesday, July 21st, sometime around mid evening. I often leave my phone unanswered, there is this wonderful feeling I get, coming and going in waves, when I am unreachable to the outside world. Where I can fall into my own bubble and breathe my own air. But, I was at work, just finished in fact, and already being in an outwardly welcoming environment I answered my phone without hesitation. Wrong number, some Korean looking for another Korean. Hrmm... I wondered if it was actually a call for me and I had misunderstood.

Five minutes go by and the phone rings once more. I answer and the caller asks me if I have been searching for my family. My heart doesn't race, I break no sweat, it's not hitting me the way you might have anticipated. The caller explains that he is my uncle's neighbor who has agreed to translate for this lovely reunion. A few questions are asked, "Why are you in Korea?" "How long have you been here?" "Do you live in an apartment?" "Where do you work?" I assume to assure that I was... me. But we planned to meet, and the following Monday was the best time for both parties so we made it a date.

Talk about delicious. They've got this brand of yogurt at the grocery stores that I stumbled upon intending to buy some plain bitter yogurt full of probiotics yet what I instead purchased was a delicacy beyond my palette's universe. It's labeled as soft and creamy, and it's so much better than any yogurt I've had before. What a treat! Oh and I just ate a pineapple... I love those things. For a while I was on a watermelon craze. I found out that if you go grocery raiding at around 10:30-11:00PM you can get wild deals on produce. Watermelons in Korea are fairly expensive, but I was getting them for around $4, so I loaded up for about three weeks and had one in my fridge at all times. It seems the Watermelon season has abated somewhat, but I still keep my hopes up with doing a raid. The diet in Korea is so drastically different from a diet in the US. Rice at every meal and kimchee as well. All meals are served with a huge variety of side dishes, and it seems they even have rice and kimchee for breakfast along with main items of course. I think I'm starting to smell like a Korean even though I eat mainly fruit and veggies at home. Korean food is good though. More on that later ahead.

The anticipation when I woke up on Monday was monumental. Not really, but that sounds more epic right? I was excited, but seemed at ease mentally. I wondered if I was going to cry as I walked down the seven stories of stairs in my apartment building. Elevators are for health procrastinators. I did start to tear up, but it subsided. We planned to meet at 2:00PM at Yatap Station, which is the subway station only five minutes from my house. A quick walk and I saw someone looking around with a group of men. I wasn't sure who was who, but I could tell it was my family. They were the only ones who seemed to be waiting for someone. It was an instant confirmation when I met eyes with a man. We walked towards each other smiling and greeted one another. He introduced me to the others, Jin Hwon (my uncle, dad's brother), Nan Sik (my uncle, aunt's husband), and Jung Won (cousin, another aunt's son). The man who greeted me said that my uncle wanted to take me to his restaurant to meet more family. We walked and talked reviewing the basic questions I had been asked on the phone. Everyone was smiling and seemed elated. I could tell they wanted to blanket me with conversation, but the language barrier was a large hurdle. I was not sure who the man I was speaking with was until we had entered a car garage, and hopped in a stinky van. I asked, and he was the neighbor with whom I had spoken on the phone! The moments that stood out most in the van were when Jong Won handed me a picture of my father and I at his store in New York. It is odd how you can have experienced something in life and have no recollection of it at all, and the memory of that picture seems to have sunken far into the depths of my memory as though it were taken of someone else. It sparked some emotions, and the dam of willpower cracked a bit while several tears snuck through the cracks. The other moment was when my komobu (uncle, aunt's husband) said "We love you!" I could tell he meant it, and I already felt the familial connection after a few minutes of interacting. The entire car ride to the restaurant was full of cheerful laughing founded on some sort of Korean and English, Korenglish if you will, hodgepodge.
Diggity dizzamn homemade Korean food is out of control yummy. When I arrived at the restaurant my oldest aunt (kun komo), Ki Duk, was diligently slaving away in the kitchen boiling and steaming up all sorts of deliciousness. When she saw that we had came in, since Korean kitchens are almost always visible to the customers, she turned around and gave me a huge excited and welcoming smile. She ran over and gave me a large hug. Out of everyone, I actually remember her face most.
I am an eating machine. They brought out a huge boiling pot of kalgaksu, a mixture of puffer fish, mung beans, and another type of green leafy namul (vegetable) along with another massive plate of puffer fish and mung beans covered in some incredibly tasty red sauce. The eating etiquette was as follows: take soup from large pot, take vegetables first, once vegetables consumed nab some puffer fish from the soup, dip puffer fish in wasabi/soy mixture. Wowie I loved it! I have been completely depraved of any home meals since arriving in Korea, and any restaurants I have visited have not been nearly as flavorful and well made.

While we were eating my komobu, Sung Gyu, came by and had lunch with us. He has a very stern looking face, but he is always cracking jokes so he can't be too stern. When lunch was over the translating neighbor told me that komo, samchon, and komobu and I were going to my father's grave site. This was so sudden! It was only the first day I had met my family, and they immediately wanted to take me to see Dad's grave. Seeing his grave has been something I've felt like I needed to do for a long time. We hopped in komobu's car, he's a taxi driver... Korean taxi's are really nice cars, and headed off for Yangpyeong san. I am unsure how long the car ride was, anywhere from an hour to two hours, time was fading in and out. I was a bit nervous, until we had to pull the car over so komo could vomit. I assumed she was nervous, that could possibly be it, but I was later told she has bad motion sickness. Needless to say, after that I had a brief anxiety escalation and almost neared panic. I was able to ease it away somehow, and felt completely composed the rest of the journey.

We got lost several times in the city below the mountain ranges. There is no way I could ever back track to find the place. We eventually ended up in a wooded area, climbing the mountains. We approached several large stone lions on pillars, Buddhas, and saintly looking figures. It was the entrance of the cemetery.

I am not sure what exactly I was expecting, but this was completely different. The cemetery was carved into the entire side of the mountain with terraced ground every eight feet. We stopped at a small restaurant/shop the served as the cemetery's main center. There were many different displays of colorful and exotic looking plastic flowers. My family told me to select some for the grave site. It was a toss up between bright orange tropical flowers or white tulips with purple striations. I went for the white and purple tulips, because they seemed more peaceful.
I was not sure the car was going to make it up the absurdly steep road that cut back and forth every 20 feet at somewhere between 65-70 degrees, but it did of course. We parked, and they had trouble remembering the exact location of the burial. We scoured for fifteen minutes or so until we came upon the site. It was somewhat what I had imagined, but not quite. I had envisioned the raised bed mounds that are common in Korea, but Dad's sat in a large granite bed. A tomb stone next to his grave was engraved with Korean and on the back it listed my mom's name and my name. When we first arrived at the grave we each did two prostrations, two bows to the ground. We placed the bouquet next to the tombstone in a small granite cup made for plastic flowers. It had been a long time since the last visit, or plastic flowers go quickly, because all that was left of the previous flowers were rusted metal rods. We threw those away, and placed the new peaceful set in, and the grave immediately looked happier. I would have liked to trim the whole top of the mound too, give it a grasscut. My family pulled out several items from my aunt's purse to hook my dad up with since it had been a long time. My uncle, samchon - Jin Hwon, did most of the offering. Water in a small cup was poured three times in different locations around the grave, and then soju too. Supposedly, my Dad was a "good drinker" and loved his tahmbeys (cigarettes). The same pouring was done with soju, and we took sips as well. Then my uncle lit a cigarette for my Dad and placed it on the edge of the granite bed alongside a plate of potatoes, and then he worked on cutting up slices of an apple to lay there as well. I took many pictures the entire time we were there, of the grave, surrounding mountains, the sky, etc. They later asked me why I did not cry. I was quite happy while I was there, and sadness was an emotion I felt little of at that time. I finally had made it, and a major part of me was deeply appeased. I knew my Dad was alleviated that I had come to Korea, met my family, and visited his resting place. I reconciled and patched a deep void in my life, what was there to cry about?

On the drive home I slept the entire ride. I felt drained immediately upon leaving the cemetery. During and after dinner several more members of my family arrived. My komo, Sun Duk, and komobu, Sung Gyu. These are Jong Won's parents, and Jong Won's brother, Jong Kill, also visited. Hyong Suk, kun komo's son, came in a bit later, and last but not least was my nuna (older sister), Kum Ju.
Do I remember what we talked about? No. I do remember for the longest time both of my aunt's would just stare at me, and then smile and laugh and talk to each other reminiscently. Hyong Suk told me they were comparing my facial features to my father's. They said I had his forehead, his smile, and I am not quite sure how genetic this is but they said I had his laugh as well. I can tell they see a lot of him in me and that makes them very happy. Everyone was smiling the entire time. Even though we lack a strong sense of verbal communication we are still able to communicate with each other. I almost know what they are saying to me at times just by context, facial expression, body language, and intent. Luckily, all three of my uncle's know vocabulary. Hyong Suk and Jong Won both know enough English for me to communicate with on a practical level, and they translated for me the entire evening. What I found most amusing was how my uncles progressively spoke more and more English the drunker and drunker they got, and I was quite impressed by the end of the night. I wonder if this is a universal law.

By the way, did you know that many people sleep on thin mats on the floor? It�s true, and it�s incredibly uncomfortable for someone used to something that would be equivalent to maybe 50 of those small mats stacked on top of another, unless of course you are drunk. Then you are given the ability to sleep anywhere, in any position, on anything. Ever used a shoebox as a pillow? I don�t know where they learned about comfort in Korea, but it wasn�t from the voluptuous bedding in the West.

Sleeping on the floor, humid weather, it�s really quite unpleasant upon waking, but I managed to do so. Tuesday is Nuna�s day off of work. She works six days a week, twelve hours a day. This is a standard Korean oh my god awful job. She said she enjoys it though. I think it�s because she may not be exposed to the knowledge that in the US most jobs are only five days a week. Jong Won was also off for the day from university and could meet up as well. Samchon and I woke up and went to the restaurant to eat more kalgaksu, yummy yummy. Then we headed off to Lotte World to meet Kum Ju who would meet us there! OoOOOoh how exciting. Lotte World is the largest mall in Korea, with outrageously priced snazzy items and a theme park to boot. We went for the theme park of course� inside the mall! I remember being there when I was 8 yrs old, and wanting to go, my dream came true 15 yrs later!
The rides were all compact. It was not like a Six Flags from back home, but I could only imagine the property cost an astonishingly massive place like that would cost in Korea. Wow, I just realized how bizarre it is that theme parks like that exist. Hundreds of millions of dollars invested, incredible amounts of land used, for the purpose of recreation. Weird, anyways that�s a tangent I could ponder on for a while. So any how, when we arrived a Brazilian themed parade came marching out from behind the fake palm trees. This is the closest I've seen to public nudity in Korea. I never would have thought I would see women in their thongs parading at a family theme park in this conservative country, butt it was pleasant surprise.The rides were all fun. Nuna and Jong Won and I had a blast. I was cracking up often, because Jong Won was pretty nervous for the majority of the rides. The first ride we went on was one of the swaying Viking ship rides. Jong Won was breaking a little sweat and his hands were clammy. For some reason, this made me feel less nervous about the ride, and much more confident. I do not think since doing all of the insane things I�ve done on the hiking trips things theme parks are nearly as much of a rush nor are they crossing some sort of threshold where you feel like your life is in danger like climbing does. I called Young-Min up to meet us up and help translate for us.
He met up with us when we were waiting in line for the bumper cars. Man, we were waiting inside this small building for at least thirty minutes. It was so humid in the building and the air hung with an acrid stench of burning rubber. Gross-o-rama. Then we went and queued ourselves for the rollercoaster there, which was really fun. There was also a free fall ride and a spinning wheel that rotated ride. I expected Young-Min to act as a translator but it played out that he would just speak to me in English and to them in Korean. Fun though.
Man, talk about FUN. I don�t remember if I wrote about this. No, I just did a quick search and I had not. Young-Min and I went shopping one day in Dongdaemun and as we were walking from mall to mall he spotted a ride called Disco Jump. It looked pretty wild, with a large crowd in front watching, ooohing, and laughing, and there was a film crew there too so they were definitely amping it up. It was surrounded by what looked to be a concert stage, but small enough to be in the outside plaza of a mall. The Disco Jump is shaped like an upside down frisbee with seats along the out facing inwards. It spun incredibly fast, but also rocked back and forth. In addition to spinning and rocking, it was also place on hydraulics so that there was a lot of additional jarring. A staff member stood in the middle of the ride as it spun and ran around. He would pretend he was kicking people and fly through the air, he would run and do a huge back flip while this ride was spinning and rotating, and a host of other insane stunts. The ride operator would stop the ride when it reached its highest on one side and he would use the hydraulics to bounce people off their seats and fall to the other side of the ride. Everyone hung on for dear life. I think it would have been possible for some to die on that ride if they weren�t hanging on, or if they would have jumped when he used the hydraulics to knock them off they would have easily flown out of the ride into the sidewalk. Scary! But that made it more fun
Back to Lotte World, you know how those miscellaneous gift games at most theme parks are unbeatable? Well, after getting in queue for a ride we went and sat down on a bench. Across from us was one of those sledge hammer games. I was watching all these guys go try maybe six or seven, huge guys too, and maybe only two of them won. I really got antsy and wanted to try as well. Young Min threw in 1000 won and told me to go do it. I was more nervous about hitting this pedestal with a sledge hammer than I was about riding any of the thrill rides in the park! The goal was to get above an 85 and you would get a small prize. If you hit 100 you could earn a large stuffed animal. Three tries. Attempt number one 82, attempt number two 78, attempt number three 87! HAHAH I won a large raccoon tail attachment for a cell phone. It is too bulky to put in my pocket now so I let the tail dangle out of my pocket. I think it looks really cool.
After Lotte World, on the way home, I offered to make everyone dinner. Jong Won, Nuna, and I went back to my apartment. Young-Min decided to go home as we passed his stop on the subway line. Maybe he doesn�t trust my cooking, but it seems Jong-Won and Nuna did not either. I had not realized I would be gone for two days after meeting my family on Monday. I had cooked a large lunch on Monday morning and left it on the stove because it was still too hot to put into the refrigerator. Gross. One day, and it had completely molded over. Rice in one pot and pork soup in another. Oh my god it was a horrible colonization of decomposing stink fest and cotton candy like furriness. I started to clean it and Nuna pushed me out of the way and did it. Thus far I have been led to believe that I am not allowed to help clean things, and I am unsure of what status I have that is keeping me from that when I try. Either I�m younger cousin, a new addition to the family, or a guest in my circumstances and possibly all of the above. We came back to my apartment so I could pack a small bag, change clothes, and get the hamster I was babysitting. Samchon and I would be going to grandmothers the next day, and I needed some change of clothes. Plus, think how bad it would smell if that food would have been on the stove a week longer combined with the putridity of dead hamster. Eww! After packing they said they�d rather I didn�t cook since it was getting late so we went to eat pork spine soup, which I am really starting to have an addiction to. Going back to Komo�s we split up. Jong Won went home and Nuna and I went back to Komo�s. Hyong-Suk, Nuna, and I stayed up until 2 or 3 AM looking at Facebook pictures of friends and family.

Uncle shook me awake the next morning. What a long night that was, exposed to the humidity and the unforgivingly solid floor. I was not sure I would ever fall asleep the night before, until I fell asleep. It was not very early, but because of the tossing and turning sleep was not actually accomplished. Something in between daydreaming and squirming had happened in sleep's place.

This would be an interesting trip. Samchon and I were going to visit halmoni, grandmother, in Gurye. Gurye is a four hour bus ride from inner Seoul. It's pretty amazing you can travel from one side of this country to the other in approximately six hours by bus while the country boasts a modest population of 49 million. Wikipedia even has an entry about the place: "Gurye (Gurye-gun) is a county in the province of Jeollanam-do, South Korea. Gurye is a small, picturesque farming town situated between Jirisan and the Seomjin River. Gurye is the sole designated special tourism and leisure zone in all of Jeollanam-do.[1] The total size of Gurye County is 443.02 square km, with a modest population of approximately 30,000." Wow, it sure is small! Compared to the incredible density that consumes the rest of Korea. Samchon speaks little English, but yields a vocabulary large enough to make basic small talk conversations of nodding yeses and noes. Halmoni speaks one or two English words, "hello" and "goodbye" although I only remember hearing her say "goodbye!"

Samchon and I headed off to the bus station, and waited around using my dictionary to communicate one word at a time. Somehow I can still manage to be funny with one word. Samchon smokes like a BBQ joint, and is always charring up a fresh tahmbey (cigarette). How could I tell him he needed to stop smoking so often? There was not a word in the dictionary for bad, stop, or unhealthy. What I did come across was the translation for toxic waste, which seemed to suit my conviction well enough.

We missed our bus by twenty minutes, that would have brought us to halmoni's house at around 8PM. The traffic was terrible, and we even left two hours early. The next bus did not leave for an hour so we staked out in the bus station for another two hours. I passed my time glancing at Korean words and phrases, and learning the numbers. I ate an ice cream. Uncle smoked more toxic waste. The bus finally arrived and we happily boarded.

Uncle kept asking me if I was hungry at rest stops and even when I said no thank you I was not hungry he would turn around and buy some sort of snack, sometimes delicious sometimes horrendous. For instance, fried egg batter on a stick in the shape of a hash brown from McDonald's with an eerie smell reviving memories of a dead fish from the oil slicked beaches of New Orleans. That one was not one of the delicious ones. How about a "hot dog" made out of more mysterious meat, or paste rather, than a "hot dog" from the US encased in something that resembled a condom. Also, not delicious. How about yummy though... a ginseng and walnut puree that's dipped in rice batter and baked in small iron folding trays. These little walnut balls are all over Korea, but I've never had them this fresh nor with ginseng which really took it to another level. Always, there would be something edible, or at least considered edible, placed into my hand throughout our journey together.

One of the best parts about traveling, when you are not driving, is that you can fall asleep for the entirety of the trip and wake up in a completely new area. That's my forte for surete. The most impressive feat smitten to date was my flight to Korea, which I was only awake in brief stints to eat, use the restroom, and eat again. And that flight was sixteen hours or so. The four hour bus ride was a cinch, and I put another notch under my belt upon waking.

When we arrived it appeared we were in a random parking lot, and the bus station had long past closed... it being 10PM and all. Samchon and I grabbed our bags and departed from the most comfortable sleeping arrangement I had been privileged to in the past few days. We began to walk, bags in hand, down the dark streets of Gurye. No houses I saw had front lawns, but each had a large wall surrounding the facilities, with an elaborate gate at each entrance. I suppose the more elaborate your gate and wall, the more prestigious you can feel, and possibly more protected from the pirates from Singapore who raid inland Korean communities. My soggy clothes felt even more heavy when Uncle realized we had walked in the wrong direction for twenty minutes. No biggie though, no one to blame, GPS would not be invented in Korea until 2027. Samchon sighed, whipped out another tahmbey, and we floated on a cloud of smoke towards halmoni's chip (house).

We rounded the corner and Samchon pointed up ahead, "There's halmoni." There she was, shining, shimmering, splendid. Three or four of her. As we walked towards the group of women the phrases I had been practicing slipped my mind as I realized I had no idea which one of the women was my grandmother. The proper etiquette was for me to do one prostration (knee sit, ground bow, hands above head in a "we come in peace" gesture touch ground). Then "pogoshiposoyo" or "I've missed you grandmother!" and last but not least "Sarang hamnida" or "I love you." Luckily one woman grabbed me and started gabbing at me in Korean with a big toothless grin, what a happy old lady I thought! This must be my grandmother, until another one grabbed me and did the same. This was all confusing until the alpha halmoni stepped in and waved the other beta's away. They made mini bows, and old lady smiles, and alpha halmoni led me towards her fortress entrance. Samchon and halmoni spoke, and I was led through the house into... duh the kitchen.

She prepared a powerfully salty kimchi, small fish, rice, and egg in a bowl dish. All mouth puckering salty, but it was from grandmother and filled with love so I enjoyed it immensely. We ate and halmoni cleaned. I tried to help, but she was having none of that. Uncle and I went up to the roof and he smoked a tahmbey. He pointed to various areas in the distance that were only visible due to dim lights of buildings resting on top of the areas, which were mountains. He told me about where my grandfather was buried, as well as where we would go the next day. A buddhist village on another nearby mountain that my mom and father had gone to before I was born, it's a big tourist destination in the area. We talked about our girlfriends and other various aspects of life that we could communicate about. He taught me the words for cloud, moon, and rain. We gave up after a while because of the difficulty we were having and just laid down and looked at the stars. Halmoni shuffled out of the house and sat across the street with her posse for the next hour or two. We all met inside at some point and slept on the floor. Samchon and I in the living room, and halmoni in her room.

On Wednesday afternoon, Samchon woke me, and asked if I was sick. I had been sleeping all day, and it was around 1PM. I was not ill, but I was sick. Sick of sleeping on the floor in crazy humid weather! It was definitely taking its toll on me physically and it was hard to shake the exhaustion that set in after the first night at my family's place in Seoul. I got up and showered, and halmoni had made a wonderful breakfast. Oh, it was so wonderful! Sangyetang is my new favorite dish. It's basically chicken n' dumplings, but rice and boiled garlic cloves take the place of dumplings. As soon as the spoon left the bowl and my mouth embraced its contents I was taken to a mystical place I had not yet traveled. It was one of pure contentedness. Halmoni's sangyetang was instantly the best thing I had eaten in Korea. We also had all of wickedly salty side dishes from the previous night, but they went well with the sangyetang. So yummy.

After lunch I laid on the couch for an hour digesting and relaxing. I made attempts to communicate. Speaking with halmoni is strikingly difficult. She makes no attempts to speak slowly to me nor speak in simple terms. It's as if she thinks I am fluent in the language while at the same time very aware that I speak none. I would put together two or three words to try and get something across to her and she would reply with an onslaught of rapid fire hangul (Korean). When these attempts failed we just sat with one another for many minutes and then one of us would get up and flee the silence. I made many retreats back to my post on the couch.

Uncle got me up and told me to get ready to go to Hamsa. Hamsa is the beautiful Buddhist mountain village nearby. We were out the door in no time. It was a quick and pleasant bus ride through the winding valley roads surrounded by rice fields and small towns in the midst of developing. When we arrived it was a bit cloudy outside, but it had drizzled earlier that morning. The rain allowed for an incredible humidity that swept our clothes instantly upon stepping outside of the bus. It might as well have been raining.I didn't see any bears.
Samchon said it would be a long walk to the temple grounds. Fine with me, I love hiking exercise, and to top it off there was a natural air conditioning because alongside the road was a small river with tiny rapids sweeping up a breeze of fine cool mist. Talk about refreshing, especially during a long ascent towards this village.
Arrival!
The buddhist villages in Korea are not exactly what I had expected. They are maintained as original landmarks, but at the same time new construction can be seen of entire buildings. I was unsure which buildings were years old, decades old, or centuries old.
Either way it was beautiful. All of the land was sloping but the village was laid out nicely so that all of the main buildings had terraced courtyards surrounding them. There were massive warrior sculptures in some.
While in others gracefully sitting golden Buddhas towered to the heights of the 50 foot ceilings. Spring water flowed abundantly.
We took lots of pictures in and around the buildings, next to sculptures, and also the largest and eldest handmade bell in Korea. It was definitely a great experience, and I could think of a few people in particular who would have also very much enjoyed it. When we were walking around a certain building Samchon mentioned that my mom and dad had a picture standing on the steps of that building 24 years earlier. It's weird to think about that.

I scoured the gift shops for about an hour back and forth trying to find special gifts for people, but in the end I ended up buying nothing. I wasn't sure who would like what or if it would just be one of those throw away type of gifts. It's quite difficult to find meaningful things to send abroad. My mind was in utter disarray after trying to pick out gifts, this, no that, no maybe this, no, yes this, no not that, wait, no, yes. AhHhHhh! Nothing. Hopefully the thought that counts will pass to everyone whom I wanted to gift.
As we were walking back down to the bus stop we passed through a camp site near the river. This was definitely luxury camping at it's height. Full small ovens, reclining chairs, patios on two story tents, blow up swimming pools, and the works (just exaggerating). But almost everyone had a sweet setup. Camping in preassigned lots, on smoothed ground, is not camping to me. Camping is when you go explore the woods and end up crashing in the middle of no where.
We waited for the bus for two hours or so. I napped. I napped on the bus ride home too. Then when I got home guess what we did? We ate a massive meal, and you know what I did after that? I napped. Then I woke up for another gargantuan meal, spoke with Halmoni and Samchon to the best of my abilities and then attempted to sleep.

The next days plans sounded exhilarating. There is a mountain peak nearby that is known for sitting on top of the clouds. After two or three breakfasts we made our way to the bus station. This bus ride followed the same route to Hamsa, but veered during a fork just before the bus stop. We kept going, and going, and going, up, and up, and up. WOW, we were going so UP! I was shocked the bus could maintain that sort of climb on such narrow and winding roads. Actually, at times when the bus was shifting gears it felt like we were rolling backwards. I could only imagine if the transmission would have given out, or brakes too. That would have been game over. The bus driver was all over the place too. The roads were too small for the bus to take corners in our own lane, so we merged into the other side of the road for the majority of the climb. It was always nerve wracking to wonder if the potential car flying around the corner would be cognizant of oncoming traffic. But dang, the bus ride was exhilarating enough!
The bus stop at the top of the mountain was gorgeous. We would be taking the next bus down, but that was not for another three hours. I was excited to start the hike to conquer the highest peak in the vast mountain range we had adjoined. As I walked to the paths entrance Samchon said he wasn't wearing proper shoes, plus the whole tahmbey smoking took a big hit on his lungs, so we were not going to the top of the mountain. That was the only reason I thought we went up there! I was a bit disappointed that we had taken a bus to the top of the mountain to see the clouds for three hours, but it was a nice gesture by Samchon to spend time with me. I wish the pictures would have come out better. The pictures did not do the view justice at all... if I would have had a panoramic picture it would have turned out much better. But all you can see in mine is a sharp white background (me sitting in clouds). Clouds don't really taste like cotton candy by the way.

We had some snacks together. There were these delicious rice/corn cake dumplings filled with sweet black bean paste. I know, it sounds uber funky, but it was exactly what I would have wanted had I just been hiking. I even liked them without doing any hiking so you know they must be good. I thought about sending some in the mail as a gift. Common sense stopped me. Of course, if I mailed them, the mail men would smell the dumplings, open my package, and eat them all.
The bus ride home was horrifying. It seems illogical that a bus could make its way down the same road at three times the speed it was going up the mountain. Well, not really, but a bus going forty miles an hour down a sharp winding road where what lay behind the following turn was completely unknown, was more than nerve wracking. I kept thinking "Holy explicative! Holy explicative! This is insane!"

My three or four dinners sat nicely, and sleeping was still a struggle. We ate sangyetang for two full days at all fifteen meals a day. It was the supreme comfort food, and made me instantly love Halmoni's cooking. Aside from the overly salty side dishes, she could really tear it up in the kitchen. The next day wavered that opinion.

Sleep was dreadful that night. The humidity was at its apex and sleeping on the floor with a wooden box for a pillow put me in a onerously bitter mood as I tried to sleep. Just when I thought it could not get much worse I heard the noise. It was a noise I was familiar with from my grandma's house in Florida. A small rattling chug chugging at first slowly became a sonorous industrial calamity in my ears. Along with that dreaded noise came an all to familiar smell. Mosquito repellent, which was drenching the entire city in a thick and heavy haze of toxic gas. Due to the cursed humidity the cloud of death spray remained fixed and everything became coated in its putridity. Because Halmoni sleeps with her windows open, I was also given an unpleasant chemical shower, which flared up my asthma and made my eyes itch as if someone had sprayed bug spray in them... oh wait, that did happen. There was no way to get away from it. Sleep sucked that night.

I awoke to more lovely smells. As you all know, I am sometimes allergic to firewood smoke. This waste product soon filled the living room in which I was sleeping as a pleasant morning alarm clock. Yet, instead of an inviting ring-a-ding of the clock I was awoken by fits of someone coughing. Ah, it was me. The chemical stench still stuck to me, but now I also got a fine charcoal mist to top it all off. I really thought I deserved a cherry at that point.

We had planned to go to Hadabogi's (grandfather's) grave the next day to do a small memorial, and make blessings. Instead, it rained all day on and off. We did have time to go fill up large jugs of spring water from a nearby tap, but otherwise we were trapped inside. On the fire outside Halmoni was cooking up something fierce. First breakfast revealed the contents of the bubbling cauldron outside. Pyo soup (bone soup). Bones, cartilage, fat, ligaments, and all that good stuff boiled for a few hours in a massive pot served hot with a spoonful of salt and a tablespoon of diced chives. Mentally this was a struggle for me. I'll just take this moment right now to thank Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmerman, two Travel Channel/Food Network hosts that I admire. Their bold palettes have allowed them to explore a multitude of exotic delicacies from across the world. I've seen them eat some nasty cuss before.

"What the hey," I thought. Halmoni was already 1 in 0 on the positive side for good food. And I couldn't turn down this dish she had been preparing since 6AM in the morning that still had noticeable traces of hair and skin still attached to the chunky chum of lard. I picked up the spoon with a trembling hand and dipped it in the soup. I could have easily evaded the hunks of miscellaneous corporeal edibles, and probably for the first dozen dips or so, but wheres the adventure in that. I saw the spoon driving forwards towards my face, and wondered if the collision would be fatal. It struck my tongue, my mouth, and slowly the bodily contents spilled out. Wow, not that bad actually. Tasted like a bland soup, needed a bit more salt so I gave it another pinch, and it was basically a salty broth. Nothing to be scared of. It was all culturally induced fear of the unknown. The texture was a bit difficult to swallow, but I managed that as well. Actually, after a few more times eating it during the day I actually started to enjoy it somewhat. Go figure. One of my favorite things about Gurye, and Korea in general is that the majority of people try to grow at least some of their own food. In Gurye almost everyone has large fruit trees in their yards, corn, peppers, and a plethora of other green goodies.
We left Halmoni's the next afternoon. It was a beautiful day outside and the sun was blazing. I could tell Halmoni was thrilled to have spent so much time with me, and she kept telling me I needed to learn Korean.
She had a big smile on her face as we left, and I know my visit was as special to her as it was to me. I thought that rainy way beforehand was Thursday for some reason, and expected to leave the next morning to get back Friday evening, and have a day to relax and gather myself before meeting my third Komo (aunt) and her family from Incheon on Sunday. When the long bus ride came to an end Samchon seemed to think I was going back to Gildong with him to stay over another night, he kept saying Incheon family would be there tomorrow. But Hyung Seok had told me I would meet those family members on Sunday so I was quite confused. Anyways, I really needed to sleep in my own bed to recuperate from all that floor sleeping. I told him I would be there at 10AM the next morning. He seemed a bit upset that I was not coming with him, but I needed alone time after this entire week I had not been alone for any extended period of time.

When I got back home to my apartment I stopped at the front desk to chat up Mr. Kim our 70 yr old security guard. He mentioned that it was Saturday evening, and was asking about what I did with my vacation. No, I corrected him that it was Friday evening. No, he looked down and thought for a second reviewing his English in his head and corrected me. He said it was Saturday and even showed me a calendar and clock to prove it. OH MAN! SUCK! I had completely lost track of a day somewhere and thought it was Friday night. I thought I was going to have all Saturday to sleep in and laze around my apartment, but instead I would be getting up at a single digit time in the morning to go meet more family. Frustrating about the loss of a day, but exciting to meet family. Oh life, how silly you are.

I woke up at 8AM to make sure I was on time to meet the family at our Kalgaksu restaurant, and I left by 8:40AM. It was only 40 minutes to Gil-dong so I would have plenty of time and arrive early. I would arrive early if I didn't go several stations past my transfer stop, make the same mistake again on my next transfer, and then realize I had left my cellphone charging in the kitchen where I had placed it to remind myself not to forget about it the following morning. I got off the subway at 9:40PM, and realized I had completely forgotten how to make it to my Komo's restaurant from the subway stop. Luckily, I had taken a picture of the front of the building with my camera, and on the front of the building was the phone number for the restaurant. First call, busy. Second call, busy. I decided to walk a few blocks in many directions to try and see if I could recognize a landmark. Nada. I went back to the phone booth and tried again a few times. Luckily, someone answered on the "x"th call. It was Hyung Seok. I apologized and told him the situation. He ran to the subway stop to pick me up.

My youngest komo sat with my komobu (her husband) and two youngest daughters (1 and 3 years old American age). I apologized many times for my late arrival, but they did not seem to be phased. They were visiting, because they were passing through before they went to Halmoni's the following day for the week. I had just missed their vacation by a week. We had a blast chatting together and the little girls were great fun. I definitely felt a strong connection with everyone.

After eating kalgaksu and playing around we went back to my second komo's house and everyone relaxed. I hung out with Jong Won for a while and the little girls until he went to go meet with some friends. Komobu was napping. My two aunts were cooking, and the little girls were running in and out of rooms. I sat on the computer playing some games when Samchon held up one of the little girls from the outside patio and she yelled into the window for me. There was a strange sense of being torn from a comfort zone or exploring some sort of new reality when I decided to get off of the computer. I think I rely on it far too heavily here in Korea. But when I went outside I had such a great time with the girls and my family. They started calling me Hyong (which means older brother) and it marked the time when I officially felt apart of the Korean family, and my shift from being American to being American Korean. Something so small as my little cousin calling me brother set off a huge shift in perception for me.

That night my other cousins came back from hanging out with friends and we all ate a massive dinner together. My second Komo is a wonderful cook as well. We laughed, ate, and were merry. She even packed a handful of each dish in small tupperwares for me to bring home. Both aunt's were inquiring, through my cousins, what sorts of food I ate at home, and could not fathom how I was getting along living alone. If you're not married in Korea, it is very atypical to live away from home.

So, when dinner was through, when all was clean, and the meal was digested over pleasantries they told me they were all going to visit my apartment. It was a wonderful experience! Eleven people from my family crowded in my modest single flat. They inspected every nook and cranny from my food, to clothes, to my pictures, and concluded that I was in fact living very well eating healthily and keeping things tidy. It felt like some sort of blessing to my apartment, because after that visit it's felt much more homey. They loaded my tiny fridge stock full of Korean goodies, and went on their way. Man, I am so happy to have two incredible families! This family is so Korea-ntertaining, caring, and friendly.

Now, I know what I've been missing. Now, I know what I have!

If I wouldn't have come to Korea I would have never known what my great great grandfather looked like.

[sbp59]

That is such an amazing story and life changing experience.