I ate octopus.
That’s right, you heard me. I, one of the world’s ex-pickiest eaters, ate octopus. I took off my shoes at the door, sat on the floor at this little table with my gracious host Mr. Kim, his wife and his daughter, and another school teacher and his wife, and waited in nervous anticipation for the spicy octopus to be served. It was red, it was spicy, it was covered in tentacles that fell off in your mouth when you chewed, it was stubborn and squishy and some pieces had little bulbous heads with little glazed black eyes on them… and I bravely picked up my chopsticks, grabbed that curly tentacle-y leg and popped it right on in my mouth. Again, and again, and again.
I wish I had a picture to share with you folks, but I felt awkward enough being the only white person in the restaurant, I couldn’t bring myself to take along my tourist camera to Sunday lunch. You’ll have to trust me that my face turned bright red enough to issue concerned comments from all those seated with me to drink, “Water! Water!” and to eat the bowl of eggs which would make it, “Much less spice,” or to drink the cold soupy vinegar-y kimchi to relive my burning mouth. Nevertheless, I am quite proud of my ability to stomach something I never would have previously believed I’d eat. If you told me six months ago that I’d be sitting on the floor at a local restaurant in rural Yeoju, South Korea, popping spicy octopi pieces in my mouth like a pro, with Korean conversation bubbling all around me as I ate piece after piece… I don’t even know. I guess I’m pretty excited to see what the next six months will hold.
Anyways, what an adventure it’s been so far. I had orientation on Wednesday evening in Chicago with a crew of other TTGs (Teachers to Gyeonggi-do) before we all hopped on the plane at the Chicago O’Hare Airport in anticipation of a 13.5 hour flight. It was long but there were many good movies, and the service was impeccable; not to mention the
Chicago O'Hare International Airport
My very first rice paddy! Countryside outside Yeoju.
adorable flight attendants who walked around saying, “Some drink for you, please?” We arrived, bedraggled, smelly and jetlagged, as a large group at the Incheon Intl. Airport in Seoul, gathered up our luggage and walked to the exit where a huge group of smiling, jumping and waving Koreans held up signs with each of our names on them. Mine read, “Welcome! Amanda Wingren,” and an adorable Korean lady claimed me and helped me struggle with all my heavy baggage to her car. After a long adventure of driving, awkward conversation, a lovely restaurant spaghetti meal (?) and much dehydration on my end, I discovered that my apartment is not available until Wednesday and am consequently spending the weekend with Mr. Kim and his family at his country house outside of Yeoju. It has been unlike anything else I have ever experienced in my life, and it’s only the second day! However, it must be said that Koreans are some of the kindest people I’ve met: they are extremely concerned for my comfort and satisfaction with everything I have experienced. It is very sweet. For example: yesterday morning Mrs. Kim made me an egg, toast and cherry tomatoes for breakfast and I ate them all up. This morning, my breakfast was two eggs, two pieces of toast, twice the amount of cherry tomatoes and five meatballs. Absolutely insane. I had heard that if you finish everything on your plate, they interpret it that you were not served enough food: and now I know its true!
Well, currently I’m missing out on watching some quality Asian variety show with the Kim family, so, until the next update….