north vs. south

Seeing the North Koreans play the South Koreans was a new enough combination, but beer and dried squid... that straw almost broke the camel's back. I say "almost" because that dubious honor is reserved for the $12 chicken nuggets that in order to rise above room temperature must be put in the soccer stadium's microwave by you after you buy them. At least the sauces were good.



We went with friends to see the soccer game on Sunday night and it was well worth the price of admission. If nothing else, it shows that soccer stadiums can be places where families congregate and petite Korean women feel at home. (Korea is very different from Italy in this regard. I don't even understand the Korean language but I'm fairly positive that the stadium wasn't filled with profanity-laden screaming. Or even anger for that matter. Just lots of chanting and flag waving and clapping. And some serious squealing by the ladies.)



Despite the begrudgery of some members of our party I decided to give the dried squid a chance. It was a school night and I'd already had half a beer, so I figured I might as well go whole hog and eat some dried-up pieces of fragrant sea life too. Good thing I did. Eating the stuff is vaguely reminiscent of fruit roll ups; you tear strips off of a larger sheet and while the concept may sound weird and a touch creepy, it tastes pretty good. Like chewy potato chips infused with salty fish flavor. That might not sound like a good thing - but it is.



The game ended in a 0-0 tie with a lot of running around but no goals scored. The two teams shook hands once the clock ran out and spent some time lingering together on the field. At one point the "One Korea" fans, who were holed up on the far side of the field, unfurled a giant white flag with a turquoise Korean peninsula on it -- the "One Korea" flag. Afterwards we noticed monks (didn't I tell you the stadium was a gentle place?) and others walking around carrying smaller versions of the flag.



Seeing the "One Korea" message was a pretty solid reminder of what would happen next. The jerseys would get thrown into duffel bags and the soccer balls would be collected and put away. The South Koreans would stay where they were and the North Koreans would get themselves back on their own side of the 38th parallel.

A gentle reminder that we live in a country technically still at war.

when in seoul...

When you're roaming around the market on a Sunday afternoon and notice leaning towers of silver noodle bowls rising out front of a packed restaurant it's not difficult to choose a place for lunch. In fact walking past this crowded establishment immediately triggered our trip-wire for eating well around the world: look for locals eating - and then eat there.

The only caveat with this method is that you've got to be ready to go whole hog because when you walk into a place like this, you're walking into a different reality. You're not only going to be eating with the locals, you're going to be eating like the locals. This means zero accommodation for the things you're used to where you're from. And that, my dear friends, is exactly the reason you're here.



You're here to climb the thin staircase to the second floor, take off your shoes, and discover that unlike downstairs there aren't tables and chairs, there are only tables.

You're here to sit on the floor. Which in turn means you're here to keep shifting your body weight around until you can find a position in which your legs, or your feet, or your bottom - or some combination thereof - does not go immediately numb.



You're here to order by pointing at photos on the walls, or food on other people's plates, and then hope that the meal you've gesticulated at and nodded for, actually tastes as good as it looks.

You're here to use a set of chopsticks for your noodles, a spoon for your soup, and the scissors for anything that's too unruly to be tamed by either the chopsticks or the spoon.



You're here to clean your face and hands with thin napkin squares that you find in a bunch on the floor, and throw your garbage in a small pail that just barely fits under the table.



And not only do you get to do these things but you also get to eat the best food on offer, like cold chewy noodles with cucumbers and spicy sauce and a hard-boiled egg on top. You get to slurp the noodles and drink water out of cold metal cups and sit in your socks on the floor. And you get to pretend - for just a moment - that you, of all people, know the best places to eat in Seoul.

unexpected guests

We have a screen door and a front door and neither has much space between it and the ground. You certainly couldn't shove a pencil outside without first opening both doors. Yet, somehow, this arrangement is not proving to be enough of a barrier for a very determined set of earthworms.

Why earthworms would want anything to do with our foyer is beyond us. We assumed they wanted nothing more than to scoot around underground and occasionally visit the surface after heavy rains. But you know what they say about assumptions and apparently earthworms in Seoul want to live inside. They are literally crawling under our front door and parking themselves in our foyer.

Before you ask I'll clarify that the worms aren't washing in with flood waters and they're not hiding in the treads of our shoes. These damn things are choosing - out of the vast geographical space available to them - to squeeze under two sets of front doors and then coil themselves up in our home.

The worm in the photo is one of six that have made the journey. When I picked it up to throw it out the front door it squirmed and twisted with a force I didn't know could come from a worm. The way it jerked and coiled between my fingers was absolutely disgusting and I have to admit that there were screams. (Thankfully not from the worm.)

You expect spiders inside. Anyone who's been in a basement is used to seeing roly poly bugs and thousand leggers. But earthworms? That's going to take some getting used to.