Pulgogi

I stopped by Jino’s hagwon the other night, but he wasn’t in. Surprisingly, the door to the institution was unlocked and I found two of his students hanging out inside. They kindly asked me what I needed and if I wanted to use their cell phone to call up Jino. Their English was impressive (the hagwon’s work!) and one rang up Jino for me. He explained that he had just finished teaching, that his wife and baby were in town, and that he wouldn’t be able to hang out until tomorrow. We agreed to meet up the next afternoon.

So I sipped on some of his complimentary coffee and decided to chat it up with the two high school aged students. One was busy using Jino’s computer for Star Craft; the other was studying biology. It was obvious that he didn’t really care to study because he started chatting with me in English, ignoring the open science book. We spoke on a number of topics, occasionally using an electronic Korean and English dictionary to further understand one another. We spoke of how difficult it is to learn English among other languages. He said that Hangul is very simple compared to English.

“What about Chinese?” I asked. “The characters seem impossible to learn.”
He laughed. “Chinese isn’t a language, it’s a password.”

I told him that I wanted to learn more Hangul because not being able to read all the signs around me and not being able to communicate with newfound acquaintances is frustrating. Promptly, he took out some sheets of paper and began to teach me the basic alphabet, consonants and vowels. He folded another sheet in half, and asked me to write down English words on the left hand column so that he could jot down the Hangul translation in the right hand column.

Hmmm...What to write? I thought about what my elementary students know how to say in English. They have more of a foundation of English than I have of Korean. So, I thought about some of the basic necessities. Here’s a list of the words he taught me to say and write:

What time is it?
I’m hungry
What’s your favorite color?
Red
Blue
White
Green
Black
I feel...
Happy
Sad
Lonely
Sleepy / Tired
Thirsty
I’m sorry
Forgive me
I love you
Beer
Chicken
Rice
Apple
Cow
Pork
Pear
Dog
Cat
Fish (pet)
Fish (food)
Good
Turtle
Sun
The weather is good
The weather is bad
It’s hot
It’s rainy
It’s foggy
Car
Bus
Train (station)
east, west, north, south
the twelve months
winter, autumn, summer, spring
school (elementary, middle, high, university)
principal
respect
foolish
smart

I was very thankful for the lesson, warmly thanking my newly acquired friend and songsaengnim. I look forward to chatting with him again. I strolled on home, but I felt restless when I reached my destination. I decided to keep on walking. 20 minutes walking distance from my house is a small business area; I opted to head there. Many clubs, bars, shops and restaurants line those streets. It’s a very scenic place, particularly at night because the buildings are plastered with neon signs, flickering flashing bulbs, and spinning advertisements with swirling colors. The buildings have at least six or seven stories each, with different clubs or pool halls on each floor. There’s usually a buzz on those few blocks, an atmosphere to soak up and sights to see. I like to overwhelm my senses as I stroll these streets. The lights are so vibrant and covered with a myriad of colorful explosions, that gazing down the street makes me fear for epileptics.

I was feeling pretty parched by the time I made it to this area, so I went inside a quickie mart and purchased some grapefruit orange gatorade (it’s dominant). Outside of virtually all Korean convenience stores are plastic tables and chairs. One often sees men enjoying some beer or students eating frozen treats on these seats. I decided to take a little break from walking, so I sat down outside the quickie mart and started sipping away on my drink. A moment later, a Korean man walked by and started speaking to me with very broken English. He was quite friendly, so I motioned for him to pull up a chair to chat with me. I’d say he was around 35 years old or so. I asked him what his occupation was.

With much stammering and pausing, he told me, “I.......am....a..........” His eyes darted about behind his glasses and he almost looked in pain due to thinking so hard. Finally, he said “I am a history.”
“Oh, you’re a historian.” I said. “You study history.”
“Yes. American history. England history. Korean history. All world history.”

I told him a bit about what I’m doing in Korea, but I don’t think I was able to communicate very much to him. For one, his knowledge of English was very poor. My Korean is practically non-existent. I had to speak painfully slowly for him to gather anything - all while using lots of hand gestures. Soon after finding that his English was very minimal, I discovered that he was completely and utterly inebriated. As he sat down, he put a bottle of Soju on the table and offered me a drink. I declined, and he started to drink some more (not that he needed it). Let me be clear about this. Korean drunks don’t seem to be like some American drunks, surly and aggressive. This man was pretty chilled out. He was very kind and brave, for he had no inhibitions about speaking with me in a language he didn’t really understand. I didn’t realize just HOW drunk he was until speaking with him for about 10 minutes or so. At this point, for some reason unknown to me, he decided to hoist himself up in his seat. Remember that these chairs are a thin, flimsy plastic - like cheap lawn chairs. So as he hoisted himself up and out of his chair, his elbows locked and his bottom elevated above the seat, he began to tip back slowly. I exclaimed, “be careful!” But he didn’t understand and it was too late. He toppled backwards, hitting his head on the chairs stacked behind him. I rushed to aid him, grasping his arm and lifting him up on his feet. “Are you ok, man?”
“Yes, I ok.”

The man proceeded to stagger about, his mind certainly fogged over. His world must have been a blur, for he could scarcely manage to walk. I asked him if he’d like to sit back down and rest, but he seemed to want to stand a while. I started thinking about bailing on the dude. It was just at that moment that he asked me to come with him.

“Where?”
“Eat. Eat.”

Indeed I was feeling pretty hungry at the time. He seemed harmless enough, despite his intoxication, so I decided to follow him to get some grub. We walked a block or so and entered a restaurant. It was the type that served grilled meat in front of you on top of a bucket of hot coals that rest inside a chasm within the center of the table. There’s a tube suspended above each table, each grill. When the food is brought out and strips of meat are placed on the grill, the waitress lowers the tube which sucks up air. So the heat from the hot coals is vacuumed up through the food. Pretty cool stuff. He asked me what I like to eat. I told him chicken. He repeated the word, 'chicken,' but I don’t think he understood. So I figured I’d tell him one of the few food words in my vocabulary.

“Pulgogee.”
“Ah, pulgogee.” So he ordered up the pulgogee (strips of marinated beef - so so good) and more Soju. He looked over at me, just as sloshed as ever, put his hand up and said “wait.”
“OK, no problem.”

He walked outside the restaurant and headed over to a restroom. This is common in Korea. Usually a restaurant will not have a bathroom inside it, but just outside in a public area. I could see where he was staggering because right behind me the wall was made up mostly of windows. I waited a while and began munching on the kimchi that the waitress had brought out. The pulgogee was already simmering. “Where is this guy?” I thought after a few minutes. I looked out the window at the bathroom. Just at that moment, I saw him slowly emerge from the bathroom, still soused and stumbling. He walked half way to the restaurant door, and then, curiously, stopped. He looked to his left. His head bobbed a bit. He looked to his right. At that moment his memory must have completely blacked out. In his intoxicated haze, he forgot what he was supposed to be doing. Surely, he knew he was supposed to be doing something. I saw this scene unfold before me, and I thought, “this dude has no grip on reality right now. I wonder if he’ll come to his senses?”

And he didn’t.
The drunken dude turned around and walked on, to his home probably. I couldn’t help but chuckle. This is going to make quite a funny story.

The waitress came out, turned my pulgogee and cut it into small strips. She motioned towards the spot where the man once sat and asked me something in Korean.
“I don’t know,” I said and turned my shoulders upward, giving the universal ‘I don’t know’ gesture, followed by the booze signal - my hand became a bottle. “Glug glug.”
She seemed to understand, smiling and leaving me to my solo meal. The food was excellent and I was quite happy to enjoy it without the drunk. I was relieved by the fact that I had some spare won on me to pay for the meal. Naturally, I didn’t crack open the Soju, so I didn’t have to pay for it.

I usually don’t eat out at Korean restaurants alone because I have difficulty ordering the food, so having a drunken guide order and bail was a pleasant surprise!