Dinner: Part 2

For those of you who follow our blog, you may remember a woeful post I wrote about a year ago lamenting the difficulties of procuring a decent meal in our then-new city. Perhaps it was because I was pregnant, hormonal, and constantly hungry but, cooking was the biggest culture shock that I experienced upon moving to Korea. For whatever reason, I suddenly felt lost without my Pillsbury crescent rolls and pre-bagged salads. I wandered the grocery aisles panic-stricken looking for something from my dinner arsenal: Bisquick, basil, buttermilk… and that’s just the B’s! Soy sauce, yes. Rice, most definitely. But, rice soaked in soy sauce doesn’t actually taste that great, no matter how you prepare it. Trust me. So, dinner for the first few months of our time here vacillated between spaghetti, stir fry, soup, and probably spaghetti again.

I used to love cooking. That love is probably more deeply rooted in my more passionate love for eating. When we lived in the States, I used to enjoy going to the grocery store and dreaming about what we might have for dinner. Foodnetwork.com and allrecipes.com frequented my browsing history. But, moving abroad changed that. Filled with recipes including boxed cake mix, canned soups and ready-made bread dough, searching for dinner options simply reminded me of everything I couldn’t find in my Korean grocery store.

But then, slowly but surely, something began to happen. Really, it started with my mom’s visit when the babies came. She would go down to the same grocery store whose name had become synonymous with anxiety for me and come back able to prepare a variety of delicious meals, not one of them spaghetti. So that inspired me to experiment. I started to ask around and see what other ladies put on their tables and what recipes worked for them. I wasn’t too surprised to learn that, instead of Pillsbury and Bisquick, most ladies’ recipe boxes were filled with recipes that actually included flour and yeast. The words “from scratch” had always carried an imposing connotation for me. Anything made at home had to have taken hours of laborious measuring, kneading and mixing to produce the pristine final product that grandmothers around the world would be proud of. But, I decided to give it a go. A good friend offered a bread recipe that promised to be easy and versatile. You know what? It was easy! I was inspired. What else do I need from my American grocer that I can make here? Bread, done. Pie crust? A cinch. Cake and icing? Simple. Buttermilk… well, okay that one didn’t turn out as well but at least I tried. I even went so far as to try my hand at home made puffed pastry last weekend. I don’t think I am selling the recipe to Pepperidge Farm any time soon but it did the trick.

I am happy to say that allrecipes.com has once again reached the top ten browsing history and the kitchen has returned to its former glory of “happy place”. A happy kitchen means happy bellies. Happy bellies means a happy family. In conclusion, homemade bread = happiness.

A Believer

Let’s face it. Koreans are not exactly known for their cuisine. Maybe it is their northern climate that freezes out fresh produce. Maybe it is the obsession with spice that has deadened most Koreans’ taste buds leaving them apathetic toward more subtle flavors. Or maybe it is that Korean food requires one to acquire an appreciation for its culinary diamonds in the rough. More recently, I have found myself leaning to the last of these three possibilities.

Koreans don’t help their cause of becoming world renowned chefs when they describe their national dish. Ask any Korean what food best defines their country and they will undoubtedly tell you kimchi. Kimchi is everywhere. As ubiquitous as salt on the American table, kimchi serves as an appetizer, side dish and a seasoning agent all rolled into one. You literally will not have a single meal without the obligatory kimchi accompaniment. If this food is so popular, you ask, why haven’t I had it? Well, I’ll tell you.

The reason kimchi hasn’t gained quite as much popularity in non-Korean circles is because of what it is. Developed as an attempt to preserve produce to eat throughout the long winter, kimchi is cabbage that has been put in a pot and left to ferment in a special sauce. To ensure that your breath will indeed be deadly after consuming it, the kimchi has also been heavily spiced giving it a bright red color. Interested? Yeah, neither was I. Let's be honest, it was a bit too reminiscent of stinky tofu. When we lived in Taiwan we had a few Korean students whose parents made kimchi and brought it to the teachers. I figured that if there was any time I would like kimchi it would be when it was homemade by a Korean. I didn’t like it. In fact, I pretty much hated it.

Fast-forward to moving here and Chris and I felt obliged to try it again. My reaction, still hated it. Chris’ reaction, actually really liked it. He began to pick and choose our Korean restaurants by their quality of kimchi. He even began to crave kimchi and I went so far as to stock up some kimchi in our very own refrigerator. All the while, Chris keeps telling me that I will come around and start enjoying this national treasure. I insisted that I would not, Sam I am, I will not like your cole slaw gone bad!

But, last night, something happened. We went out to a Korean restaurant and I thought I would give it one more go. Not so bad. Maybe one more bite… and one more. Before I knew it, I was actually eating and enjoying kimchi. This sparked a conversation amongst our friends about kimchi and taste preferences. “I like it when it is more fresh and crunchy!” “Not me, I like it when it is soft and chewy.” “I like it when it makes my whole mouth tingle!” “My favorite is the radish kimchi.” “Mine is the cucumber kimchi!”

Here we are, a bunch of foreigners hanging out in a restaurant in Seoul debating the subtleties of kimchi spices and fermentation. Not a conversation I ever expected to have before moving abroad. But, there you have it. My name is Ashley and I like kimchi.

BOGO Update

Last Sunday, we celebrated the BOGO's eight month "birthday". And by celebrate, I mean Chris took them to a local cafe and I flew nine hours back to Seoul from Dubai. It was a grand celebration indeed. They did receive gifts from the Middle East, however, and I like to think that they enjoy them. No, eight months isn't that big of a deal but for those of you who haven't seen the little buggers for a while, I thought I would show them off a bit.

Opening gifts

Going for a stroll (Can you find Lily?)

Getting passed around the subway

Getting into trouble


Lily hanging out with Mom

Lucy hanging out with Dad

As for milestones, Lily is an expert crawler and pulls up on everything that will hold her (and some things that won't). Lucy just joined her sister in the world of mobility and can army crawl with the best of them. Lucy's grin will soon be taking shape as the first tooth finally made its debut this week. Milestones for Mom and Dad: Mom spent her first weekend away from the babies and Dad held down the fort by himself (with the help of some dear friends along the way). Big steps all around!

The New Normal

Before the twins came, we received quite a lot of comments, advice, and forewarnings from friends at various stages of parenthood about what we could expect. One comment in particular seemed to be the most common. If I had a nickel for every time someone said, “Get ready, everything is going to change,” we could probably pay both of the girls’ college tuition by now. I knew that they were right; that our world was about to be rocked. But, like most life changes, what that change actually looked like was a mystery.

Now, here we are on the other side. We are parents; life is different. I think that most new parents will tell you that this adjustment is a big one and it can be quite challenging as you learn that everything, and I mean pretty much everything, is affected by this paradigm shift. However, little by little, you learn to find and embrace your new “normal”. You learn how to have a social life again, though spending time with friends now either involves a lot of patience or a babysitter. You learn just how romantic a trip to the grocery store can be sans children. You begin to understand how much that feeling of control you have in life really is just an illusion. You also learn how overwhelmingly fulfilling it is to watch that little life that has been entrusted to you learn something new, or smile at you in recognition of who you are.

It is important to point out, however, that children are also responsible for some of the adaptation. As parents, we all have different priorities and aspirations for our families. Lucky for us, our babies are masters of adjustment. Treating those nasty trans-Pacific flights as boot camp, we have thrown the twins headfirst into the world of travel. In order to continue with their training, we decided to pack them up (along with their convoy of gear) and meet my parents in Hong Kong for the weekend. The little squirts handled the trip like a couple of well-seasoned travelers as we toted them all over the city and attempted to show my parents some of our favorite sights and flavors in Hong Kong. No, the twins didn’t particularly care about a new stamp in their passports, but their parents certainly enjoyed putting another check mark in the “success” column of the “life with babies” chart. So, here is to more life experiences and learning a bit more about the new normal.

Hong Kong 2008

Hong Kong 2011

Wise Fools

Since Chris and I both teach a lot of sophomores, we like to remind them every year that the definition of sophomore is that they are “wise fools”. It always gets a laugh from the upperclassmen who have very proudly moved on from that foolish age and are now self-proclaimed sages of the school, possessing all knowledge necessary to make it in the “real world”. As we enter our second year here at Seoul Foreign School, we can’t help but identify with these poor limbo-bound sophomores.

Having humbly survived our first year, it is incredibly satisfying to no longer be whispering to the person next to us in a faculty meeting about what the alphabet soup pouring out of our principal’s mouth actually means. We have learned to speak in acronyms and can carry on a conversation about IB, HL’s, IGCSE, IA’s, EE’s, and SYP’s with relative fluency. When a meeting is called in the LC, we know not only what those letters stand for, we actually know where it is located. So, during orientation week, we were feeling pretty competent as we reminisced about how far we had come in a year. Watching some of the new faculty roam mindlessly about with that all-to-familiar deer in the headlights look had us smiling in commiseration as we remembered the “sink or swim” feeling we had a year ago. But, swim we did and here we are with a bit more wisdom about the place we live and work.

However, I learned our second year in Taiwan to be careful during the sophomore stage to not be too overconfident. We no longer have the excuse of saying, “I’m new, that’s why I have no idea what’s going on.” That distinct privilege has now been passed to a new crop of teachers still trying to figure out where the meeting in the LC is. It only takes a small reminder as we leave our school’s campus and venture out into the city to see how truly foolish we still are. While we learned to speak SFS last year, our Korean is still pretty meager. Getting around in a taxi in Korean, we’re not too shabby. Ordering in a restaurant, so-so, as long as we stay within the specific menu that we know. Counting and being able to understand prices, etc.? I’m still terrible. Everyday conversation beyond hello and goodbye? Forget about it. The same is true for knowing our surrounding areas. Our neighborhood, we know pretty well. The foreign district and a nearby artists’ area, not too bad. Pretty much anything beyond that, we are lost, literally and figuratively.

So, here we are in limbo. We have gained wisdom in some areas but still come face-to-face with our foolishness on a daily basis. However, despite our precarious position, we have to agree with my Grandma who used to say, “There are no bad days, just some better than others,”… or maybe that was wine…

A Tale of Two Flights

“It was the best of flights, it was the worst of flights, it was the flight of wisdom, it was the flight of foolishness… it was the flight of Light, it was the flight of Darkness, it was the flight of hope, it was the flight of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all flying direct to Heaven, we were all flying direct the other way.”

Okay, so that may not be exactly the way Dickens wrote it, but I couldn’t have said it better myself. As most of you know, Chris and I had the pleasure of toting the BOGOs to America and showing them off in their first stateside tour this summer. My last blog dealt with some of my concerns about this tour, namely the transportation. Freshly off of our return flight back to Seoul, I thought I would regale you with the tale of our two flights across the Pacific Ocean. In order to fully grasp the contrast of these two experiences, I have pinpointed a few aspects for us to compare.

Boarding

Flight #1

Chris and I thought that it would be a good idea to bring the babies’ car seats on board to have a place for them to sit without us holding them. We failed to take into consideration the fact that we don’t have a car here and that the babies had been in their car seats a grand total of one time, and that was to come home from the hospital. As it turns out, they didn’t so much like being placed in those contraptions and screamed any time they were in them, including walking down the aisle to find our seats. I watched fellow passengers’ eyes fill with fear as we approached and then sigh with relief as we passed by. Who would have to sit next to the screaming twins for the next 14 hours?

Flight #2

Checked the car seats and therefore we had extra space to maneuver in our seats as well as have a place for the babies to lay down flat to sleep. Babies board the flight in our arms and therefore happy. I watch as peoples’ eyes melt into adoration at the stunning cuteness of our daughters.

In flight

Flight #1

I’m just going to say this: there were tears. Lots of them. And I will admit that they were not all baby tears either. Despite our most desperate efforts, the screaming that began during the boarding process persisted through take-off, the first beverage service, and on through dinner. I had to inhale my food standing in the back of the plane while bouncing a baby up and down in an only mildly successful attempt to calm her down. Finally, we were able to get both babies asleep while we held them. I’m sure that I don’t need to remind you that this was a long flight. A very, very long flight. However, needing to hold the babies the entire time made it difficult to do some things that might have made our journey a bit more pleasant like, oh I don’t know, go to the bathroom maybe? Too afraid that our breathing might shake the fragile sleeping state of the girls, the only conversation that Chris and I shared was of the utmost importance. Mainly it focused on how we would never, ever even think about doing this again.

Flight #2

After finishing a feeding during take-off, we spread blankets on the extra seats and watched contentedly as the babies drifted off to dreamland for their nap. During this time, Chris and I were free to move about, stretch our legs, and even enjoy dinner. I took full advantage of the open season on the restroom and even made a little time to brush my teeth in preparation for the long flight. Chris and I chatted freely in reflection of the summer and our future plans for the upcoming year.

Disembarking

Flight #1

If I am appreciative of one thing about the first flight, it is that there were other families around us who also had babies and therefore didn’t cast as hateful glances at us and our screaming twins as I imagine other people might have done. However, these families’ babies didn’t make a peep during the flight. Not one little sound! While I consoled myself with the thought that they must have sneaked Benadryl into their bottles, I couldn’t help but feeling like a failure for not maintaining order in our little section of the plane. To confirm that my inadequacies were not just in my head, as we deplaned, one young mother handed me a list of parenting books and blogs that she thought I might find helpful in the future. Thanks. We crawled to customs, our defeated heads hanging low.

Flight #2

Deciding to finally wake the babies up from their slumber as we pulled into the gate, passengers around us still looked adoringly at the twins. Rather than receiving pitying advice as we gathered our belongings, flight attendants and travelers still commented on how cute the babies are. As we pranced onto the jet way, Chris and I beamed with pride and triumph. Take that, trans-Pacific! You may have bested us the first time, but we came out on top on the second-go-round.

I’m going to be honest. The success of the second flight hasn’t quite cured me of the trauma from the first flight but I think we will get there in time. This kind of emotional healing doesn’t happen overnight.