A few days ago I blogged about the startling lack of efficiency one experiences in Korea. Two more examples this weekend illustrated the point.
Recently, I knocked Laura's laptop off her couch and cracked the LCD screen. To make matters worse, it's a Mac, and we were informed that fixing the screen would cost somewhere along the lines of $625. I suggested that I could buy the laptop screen on ebay and replace it myself, but strangely she wasn't too keen on having me completely void her warranty. Go figure.
Instead she decided to price laptops in the area to see if she could get a temporary model before getting her Mac repaired Stateside. We ended up at Hi-Mart and decided on an adorable HP Mini, which was on sale. We let the clerk know that we wanted to buy it. He then advised us that we should wait for 1 hour. This seemed wrong, so we assumed it was just a communication issue. It wasn't wrong. We sat on a couch for an hour watching K-Pop DVD's, including a couple of performances by these guys, who clearly want to be the Beatles circa 1964. I have no idea what took so long; we posited that perhaps they had to contact the Hi-Mart in Seoul and have a guy get on the KTX and bring it down with him.
The next day, I could see from the SBS Sports schedule that I had two options for watching the Bolton/Fulham game: 5AM or 1PM. I slept in, confident I could skip the early morning showing. Naturally, they showed the Man U/Portsmouth game instead.
Korea, get your **** together!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Human Thesaurus
One of my kids wrote an in-class essay that included the following words:
- fiscal abundance
- conducive
- blasé (yes, he included the accent)
- outmoded
- stereotype
. . . and he used them all correctly! I was impressed.
- fiscal abundance
- conducive
- blasé (yes, he included the accent)
- outmoded
- stereotype
. . . and he used them all correctly! I was impressed.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
A Meal Fit for a Haitian Dictator
Recently, we took a work trip to the Muju ski resort, which I shall blog about in the future. I want to point out one photo that I found funny. This was a chicken joint advertisement that was in our hotel room:
The green Korean letters there sound like "Pa Pa Dak." "Dak" means chicken, and according to my dictionary, "Pa Pa" means the same thing it does in English. I just thought it was funny that nobody thought of François Duvalier when naming the restaurant.
파파닭 . . . the official fried chicken of the Tonton Macoutes.
The green Korean letters there sound like "Pa Pa Dak." "Dak" means chicken, and according to my dictionary, "Pa Pa" means the same thing it does in English. I just thought it was funny that nobody thought of François Duvalier when naming the restaurant.
파파닭 . . . the official fried chicken of the Tonton Macoutes.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
I. DRINK. YOUR. MILKSHAKE!
Following the devastation of World War II and the Korean War, Korea was on par with many countries in Africa in terms of development, or lack thereof. The explosion in economic growth, industry, technology and standard of living since then is nothing short of a miracle . . . in fact, it's known as the "Miracle on the Han River."
Despite this progress, I am sometimes baffled by the inefficiency I see here. I think it might have something to do with the 3,770 won an hour minimum wage (equivalent to USD 3.28 an hour). Really, who is going to work their butt off for that kind of money? It leads to companies hiring far too many people. You'll often walk into a restaurant and see three or four waiters just standing there. As one friend of mine put it, there's a culture of running around and trying to look busy without actually doing anything. I feel that businesses would be better off hiring half as many people who are twice as competent and paying them twice as much.
For example, today Laura and I stumbled upon an ice cream shop that actually served milkshakes, an item she had been seeking for some time. These are the steps that the employee took to create our milkshakes:
1) Put a blender jar on a scale.
2) Fill the blender with milk, presumably weighing it.
3) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
4) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
5) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
6) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
7) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
8) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
9) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
10) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
11) Blend.
12) Unequally distribute the resulting milkshake into two plastic cups.
13) Serve.
Seriously, she made eight trips to the freezer. You don't need to weigh the ingredients! Just eyeball it! Especially since the shake we got had way too much milk in it anyway.
Despite this progress, I am sometimes baffled by the inefficiency I see here. I think it might have something to do with the 3,770 won an hour minimum wage (equivalent to USD 3.28 an hour). Really, who is going to work their butt off for that kind of money? It leads to companies hiring far too many people. You'll often walk into a restaurant and see three or four waiters just standing there. As one friend of mine put it, there's a culture of running around and trying to look busy without actually doing anything. I feel that businesses would be better off hiring half as many people who are twice as competent and paying them twice as much.
For example, today Laura and I stumbled upon an ice cream shop that actually served milkshakes, an item she had been seeking for some time. These are the steps that the employee took to create our milkshakes:
1) Put a blender jar on a scale.
2) Fill the blender with milk, presumably weighing it.
3) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
4) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
5) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
6) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
7) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
8) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
9) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
10) Walk over to the freezer, get a scoop of chocolate ice cream, and walk back to the blender.
11) Blend.
12) Unequally distribute the resulting milkshake into two plastic cups.
13) Serve.
Seriously, she made eight trips to the freezer. You don't need to weigh the ingredients! Just eyeball it! Especially since the shake we got had way too much milk in it anyway.
More Adventures In Clothing
Sadly, my perennial soccer buddies Lon and Lisa are returning to Sin City in the coming weeks, so the time is approaching to give them a proper sendoff. As always, it shall be done with class, in the form of a fancy dress party. I will be wearing my 3-piece suit, but Laura wanted to buy a new dress for the occasion. This proved to be a surprising ordeal.
There were a few problems here. First, the cultural barrier. I'm sure I've mentioned this in the past, but Korean stores are incredibly high-pressure environments. As soon as you set foot in the store a clerk is all over you, throwing out prices and trying to get you to try something on. It's like buying a used car. Also, some of the pricing is dishonest. We saw a cute dress on the "14,900 won" rack that we were later told was nearer 20,000 won. This is still a good deal of course, but it's disappointing when it happens.
Secondly, the language barrier reared its ugly head yet again, and not just because we were shopping at the charmingly-named "Shark Zone." Yesterday, we found a shop there with some cute dresses, but no one was present. There was a phone number on the table, but we were pressed for time and decided to come back later. Today, it was still vacant, so we called the number. My Korean proved inadequate to communicate the situation, so I asked a clerk at a nearby cell-phone store to call the number for me. All I could pick out from the conversation was something about foreigners wanting to buy something, and the price of the desired dress. What was unclear is who exactly Laura would have paid if she liked the dress.
(For future reference, if a Korean speaker could let me know how to say "I'm trying to give you money! Where the hell are you!" that would be great.)
The final problem was biological. How do I put this . . . Laura is possessed of certain physical gifts which would be appreciated by Sir Mix-a-Lot but are virtually unheard of in Korea. In the case of the phantom store, there was nobody to advise of this dilemma. In the case of other shops, this was hard to communicate without resorting to obscene gestures.
In the end (no pun intended), everything worked out as she picked out a lovely gold dress for the party and a few others for good measure.
There were a few problems here. First, the cultural barrier. I'm sure I've mentioned this in the past, but Korean stores are incredibly high-pressure environments. As soon as you set foot in the store a clerk is all over you, throwing out prices and trying to get you to try something on. It's like buying a used car. Also, some of the pricing is dishonest. We saw a cute dress on the "14,900 won" rack that we were later told was nearer 20,000 won. This is still a good deal of course, but it's disappointing when it happens.
Secondly, the language barrier reared its ugly head yet again, and not just because we were shopping at the charmingly-named "Shark Zone." Yesterday, we found a shop there with some cute dresses, but no one was present. There was a phone number on the table, but we were pressed for time and decided to come back later. Today, it was still vacant, so we called the number. My Korean proved inadequate to communicate the situation, so I asked a clerk at a nearby cell-phone store to call the number for me. All I could pick out from the conversation was something about foreigners wanting to buy something, and the price of the desired dress. What was unclear is who exactly Laura would have paid if she liked the dress.
(For future reference, if a Korean speaker could let me know how to say "I'm trying to give you money! Where the hell are you!" that would be great.)
The final problem was biological. How do I put this . . . Laura is possessed of certain physical gifts which would be appreciated by Sir Mix-a-Lot but are virtually unheard of in Korea. In the case of the phantom store, there was nobody to advise of this dilemma. In the case of other shops, this was hard to communicate without resorting to obscene gestures.
In the end (no pun intended), everything worked out as she picked out a lovely gold dress for the party and a few others for good measure.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Unhealthier Than America: Cheesy Ramyeon
Koreans love ramen, or as it is known in Korea, ramyeon (라면). A visit to a 7-11 will reveal an entire shelf stocked with different variations, like kimchi ramyeon, beef ramyeon, and gross seafood ramyeon. Convenience stores literally have special garbage cans devoted to draining leftover ramyeon. Kids in our classes will smash up a bag and eat it dry and raw . . . and then of course come to the teacher, mouths aflame, begging for a glass of water. This is purely a tactic to try to get out of class and I make them suffer.
If you go to the cheap little Korean restaurants, you can upgrade your ramyeon. They'll add vegetables, egg, and mandu (dumplings) for a slight premium. My favorite variation, though, is definitely Cheesy Ramyeon (치즈라면):
Yes, that's a bowl of ramyeon with a slice of American cheese, purchased at my favorite local eatery, 김밥창국 (Kimbap Chang-gook, basically "Sushi Roll Heaven").
For combining MSG poisoning with cholesterol issues, Cheesy Ramyeon is definitely Unhealthier than America.
If you go to the cheap little Korean restaurants, you can upgrade your ramyeon. They'll add vegetables, egg, and mandu (dumplings) for a slight premium. My favorite variation, though, is definitely Cheesy Ramyeon (치즈라면):
Yes, that's a bowl of ramyeon with a slice of American cheese, purchased at my favorite local eatery, 김밥창국 (Kimbap Chang-gook, basically "Sushi Roll Heaven").
For combining MSG poisoning with cholesterol issues, Cheesy Ramyeon is definitely Unhealthier than America.
Monday, January 25, 2010
GTFOutback
Laura (of White Babes With Ginseng Monthly fame) and I both have a Monday half-day, so between the end of our 10AM-1PM intensive classes and the start of our 7:30-10:30 classes we decided to enjoy lunch at Outback Steakhouse. We were anxious to try their "unlimited lunch special." Instead we got unlimited irritation.
At foreign-owned restaurants like Bennigan's, McDonald's, and Outback, they tend to have a server who speaks some English. Presumably this is to cater to us foreigners who need a break from the pig-parts stew (see above link). Accordingly, our server - whose name was ♥Rosa♥ according to the receipt, but since it was a dude, I highly doubt it - attempted to address us in our first language. He was willing, but limited, and proceeded to annoy the crap out of us for an hour and a half.
The problem started when he took our order. The lunch special purported to offer you the choice of "Ade" drinks - lemonade, mangoade, strawberryade, etc. - or soft drinks. Laura, as a resident of New Bern, North Carolina, the birthplace of Pepsi, attempted to order the latter. Rosa apparently thought this was impossible, and the two debated the issue for a good five minutes before Laura finally succumbed and ordered a cola in addition to her strawberryade. Also, he seemed to struggle with the concept of "medium rare," which was odd as you'd think that would be the ONE thing they'd really want their foreigner-friendly waiter to understand at a steakhouse. Laura illustrated the progression of rare-medium rare - medium - medium well - well done on an imaginary step ladder.
The main issue with Rosa is that he visited our table about a dozen times. Sometimes, the visits were the standard waiter fare of "How is everything? Can I get you anything else?" Some were pleasantly helpful, such as when I asked for ketchup for my coconut onion rings and he also delivered a tasty sweet Thai chili sauce. Others were just unnecessary, like when he asked whether or not we liked our free bread; it was good apart from the weird strawberry-flavored butter it came with. And when he started offering Laura advice on how to eat her sweet potato ("If you mix the butter and the potato, it will be more delicious!") it bordered on offensive. She's from the South! She knows how to eat a damn sweet potato!
By the end of the meal, we were desperate to get the check and bolt. Our ordeal was not over, though. Rosa proceeded to stand next to me and minutely analyze the price of each item on the receipt. To his credit, I don't think he charged us for the extra Pepsi. Laura handed him her debit card, but he was back seconds later asking if we had any kind of discount card; we didn't. Finally, she signed the receipt and we fled the scene like characters in a bad action movie.
James: "GO! GO! GO!"
Laura: "Don't you want your leftovers?"
James: "THERE'S NO TIME!"
Oh well. We got a good story out of it, and I'm sure we made Rosa's day. Just don't go to the Tanbangdong Outback for lunch if you're in a hurry!
At foreign-owned restaurants like Bennigan's, McDonald's, and Outback, they tend to have a server who speaks some English. Presumably this is to cater to us foreigners who need a break from the pig-parts stew (see above link). Accordingly, our server - whose name was ♥Rosa♥ according to the receipt, but since it was a dude, I highly doubt it - attempted to address us in our first language. He was willing, but limited, and proceeded to annoy the crap out of us for an hour and a half.
The problem started when he took our order. The lunch special purported to offer you the choice of "Ade" drinks - lemonade, mangoade, strawberryade, etc. - or soft drinks. Laura, as a resident of New Bern, North Carolina, the birthplace of Pepsi, attempted to order the latter. Rosa apparently thought this was impossible, and the two debated the issue for a good five minutes before Laura finally succumbed and ordered a cola in addition to her strawberryade. Also, he seemed to struggle with the concept of "medium rare," which was odd as you'd think that would be the ONE thing they'd really want their foreigner-friendly waiter to understand at a steakhouse. Laura illustrated the progression of rare-medium rare - medium - medium well - well done on an imaginary step ladder.
The main issue with Rosa is that he visited our table about a dozen times. Sometimes, the visits were the standard waiter fare of "How is everything? Can I get you anything else?" Some were pleasantly helpful, such as when I asked for ketchup for my coconut onion rings and he also delivered a tasty sweet Thai chili sauce. Others were just unnecessary, like when he asked whether or not we liked our free bread; it was good apart from the weird strawberry-flavored butter it came with. And when he started offering Laura advice on how to eat her sweet potato ("If you mix the butter and the potato, it will be more delicious!") it bordered on offensive. She's from the South! She knows how to eat a damn sweet potato!
By the end of the meal, we were desperate to get the check and bolt. Our ordeal was not over, though. Rosa proceeded to stand next to me and minutely analyze the price of each item on the receipt. To his credit, I don't think he charged us for the extra Pepsi. Laura handed him her debit card, but he was back seconds later asking if we had any kind of discount card; we didn't. Finally, she signed the receipt and we fled the scene like characters in a bad action movie.
James: "GO! GO! GO!"
Laura: "Don't you want your leftovers?"
James: "THERE'S NO TIME!"
Oh well. We got a good story out of it, and I'm sure we made Rosa's day. Just don't go to the Tanbangdong Outback for lunch if you're in a hurry!
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