The plan was to leave for McCall sometime in the afternoon on Sunday- our first full day back in the states. We spent six days in the Western Idaho resort town, the first three with my parents and siblings in the vacation home of a family friend and the remaining three with Sami's folks. Before we left, I accompanied my mom to Red Apple, her grocer of choice in Ontario, Oregon.
While this near-weekly ritual can hardly be considered my favorite activity, I jumped at the opportunity to hunt for ingredients impossible to find at my current residence. Before we left, I took great care in creating a three day meal plan centered around the types of cuisine I had been hankering about the past year. Foods I used to take for granted like beef tacos, barbecued chicken and pasta. Even something like a simple sandwich with whole wheat bread isn't easy to come by in the land of rice, soup and kimchi.
As I scattered about the store searching for hidden treasures like a wonky-legged puppy, my mom plodded behind methodically, clutching my wish list in one hand and the cart handle in the other. I marveled at how she seemingly knew every employee and fellow employee in the store. After over twenty years teaching at the middle school across the street, she inevitably ran into former students stocking shelves and slicing deli meat. In one breath she would inquire about a child or sibling, and in the next ask which watermelons had been sitting the longest.
I strolled through the extra wide aisles designed for extra wide asses and took note of how few patrons roamed along side me. If Lotte Mart, the supermarket we frequent back home, is a Tokyo subway, the shopping cart I held in my hand at Red Apple was a horse and buggy. Just then mom caught up from behind me.
"Jeez, it's busy today," she said without a hint of sarcasm.
In addition to being considerably more spacious, the aisles at Red Apple were loaded with food items I forgot existed. The produce aisle was considerably bigger and contained a near endless cornucopia of seasonal (and non-seasonal) fruits and vegetables that cannot be found at any time in Korea. The cereal aisle completely dwarfed ours back at home even though our city is 30 times more populated.
The biggest difference was the dairy section- a back wall lined with milk jugs lit up like large, florescent bulbs, and tubs and tubs of butter, yogurt and cottage cheese. Back in Korea you will find a single file line of five or six cartons of milk- never more than 100ml. You might be able to find a stick of butter if you ask, but it will cost you.
This may not be such a bad thing. I am convinced that the reason I have been able to lose weight in Korea is because I have removed nearly all dairy from my diet. I fell off the wagon in the states and came back weighing six and a half extra pounds heavier. By the end I was having trouble breathing while laboring around with a swollen belly- praying for the day I would finally give birth to my cheese baby.
I also took note of what Red Apple didn't have. There were no aisles dedicated solely to spicy ramen, giant packages of dried and salted seaweed, or (saddest of all) no young girls in short shorts hawking products in a language I don't understand. When I asked the woman behind the seafood counter (unattractive, fully clothed) if they have whole shrimp with the heads on she gave me the same look she would have made immediately after learning her daughter was doing Osama Bin Laden.
"Why would you want the heads on?" she snarked.
"Because I like to suck out the brains. It's the best part."
"Eeew. No, we don't have whole shrimp. We don't get them whole and no where else around here does."
Next she pointed me to an area of the store that had bags of large frozen shrimp, in a typically American attempt to substitute size for flavor. I surveyed the flash frozen crustaceans and walked on.
Maybe it is better when no one understands me.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Americans Are Monocellular
During our layover in Tokyo on Wednesday Sami and I sat and watched a tv screen downstairs in a waiting room that ran the news, the weather and even an informative piece on the cultivation and countless culinary preparations of wasabi root. As I sat dreaming about all the sushi I cannot afford a rolling scroll near the bottom of the screen shifted my attention. Apparently, a Japanese law maker who plans on running for Prime Minister had recently visited the US and, while praising its great democracy, labeled all citizens of my birth nation "simple minded" and "monocellular." Basically, he thinks we're stupid.
I was outraged and let fly a series of expletives Sami did not approve of. I was insulted, and angry that fellow countrymen seated near us read the same message and didn't bat an eye. What gives this guy the balls to slander a nation of hard-working, free-thinking and insanely diverse individuals. This guy must be off his rocker, I thought...and then I read this.
FML.
Has it always been like this, or do I just notice it more now that I have been gone for so long?
I was outraged and let fly a series of expletives Sami did not approve of. I was insulted, and angry that fellow countrymen seated near us read the same message and didn't bat an eye. What gives this guy the balls to slander a nation of hard-working, free-thinking and insanely diverse individuals. This guy must be off his rocker, I thought...and then I read this.
FML.
Has it always been like this, or do I just notice it more now that I have been gone for so long?
Thursday, August 26, 2010
USA- Travel Day
A combination of excitement and unrelenting humidity kept me from even a minute of sleep the night before we left for our 17 day USA reunion tour. Earlier in the day I had finished summer camp and had a final Korean lunch of salted makerel, rice and kimchi. I have learned to submit to the fact that my new country's favorite little fish are littered with bones. I probably chew and ingest more than half of them these days.
After lunch I came back into my classroom, moved all of the desks and chairs against the wall, slipped on some heavy duty rubber gloves and began to scrub the recently swept floor with a combination of stripper and water. During the school year a rotating group of students clean my classroom after school. They mean well, but their collectively weak hands and indifferent disposition do little to erase constant scuff marks and dirty feet leavings. They lazily wipe down tables with dry rags and my co-teacher doesn't care enough to tell them otherwise.
I left school with nice sense of accomplishment and decided that I would reward myself by not doing much of anything at home. The packing had all been finished and I wasn't worried about how much sleep I was going to get at night. I figured I would sleep if I was tired, or on the plane. My parents had planned a barbecue for the night we were to arrive stateside, and I was confident that I would rally regardless of my fuel level. I stayed up and watched Craig Fergusen which ends at 1:30 in the morning. Sami wanted me up by 6 to catch the charter bus to the airport at 7. With no other shows of interest airing, I attempted to sleep.
Huge thunderstorms and my tossing and turning kept Sami up intermittently. By 4:30, we had given up hope. We made coffee and I was starving and made 2 bowls of udon which scorched the roof of my mouth instantly. For the next three days I complained about how I had burned myself on stupid plain noodles and, given my oral handicap, wouldn't be able to properly appreciate the American fare I had been craving for a year.
We left earlier than we had planned and dragged bulky black suitcases behind us toward the bus stop. Until now, we had always opted for the subway, but the charter bus to the airport would cut down our travel time by more than an hour. We opted to forgo covering our suitcases with plastic ponchos and, because of this, the rain started up again halfway through our walk.
No one stood near us at the bus stop which Sami attributed to prejudice. I just thought that they were being shy. I slept the entire bus ride.
At the airport, we got Sami some KFC. She got a snack wrap and I ordered myself a couple of overpriced but awesome hot wings. I didn't want to eat too much because I love airline food. I get really excited when I don't know what I am going to eat. I really wish that, at restaurants, someone would order something for me. Reading a menu just opens up an unwinnable, internal debate. I rarely finish a meal out without experiencing entree envy. It is a curse.
On the plane I was quickly reminded of how much I love Asian airlines. We flew Delta and the seats were too close to fall asleep, the stewardesses were sloppily dressed and hovered over our garbage like vultures. I still love flying and Delta was fine, but I missed my tightly skirted Asian stewardesses strolling every half hour with a new treat and freely pouring wine.
We had a layover in Tokyo (Narita) and I am pretty sure that the airport is a good distance away from the city because we saw tons of green, flat farmland- very different from mountainous Korea. Inside I started to feel bad that we didn't bring any treats from Korea to share with family and friends. It would have been interesting to see how they would take to songpyun- sweetly stuffed and soft bites of rice cake, squid jerky or even kimchi. Luckily, I was able to find something uniquely east Asian at a small convenience store at the airport- a bag of candy coated crabs. Each hard crab was about the size of a quarter and coated with sweet miso glaze and sesame seeds. If anything, the sight of the foreign creatures would surely interest my family.
Minutes before we left for the plane a message came over the loudspeaker: "Sami Hayden, please come to gate 24. Sami Hayden."
Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but this really freaked me out. I ran around frantically searching for gate 24, while Sami waited at our gate thinking that they might have confused the numbers. When I got to gate 24, there was an American couple in front of us who were not happy with their service and letting the poor people behind the counter know about it. I waited an uncomfortably long amount of time before approaching. Thoughts like: "What happened to who back at home?" and "What did we drop and where?" raced through my mind. Turns out that the page was for someone named Sam Aden headed to Bangkok.
Sami and I sat across the aisle from each other on the flight to Portland. It wasn't a big deal to us, but it is another example of something that seems to only happen on an American airline.
When we finally landed I was struck by how small the Portland International Airport now seemed to me and how big the people wandering around were. I was nearly always the tallest person on the subway in Seoul, and now teenagers were towering over me. We sat down for a minute to get on our laptop and I couldn't help but eavesdrop on a mother and daughter conversing at a table positioned behind me. I felt so intelligent just being able to completely comprehend what was being said.
We decided to grab a slice of Pizza Schmizza which had just opened minutes before at 9:00 a.m. I was blown away be how friendly the young girl behind the counter was. I even switched up my order after she had warmed my slice in the oven and she didn't bat an eye. I am not saying that Koreans are not friendly in the check out line, but let's just say it is a little more subtle. After our meal, a complete stranger, after watching me attempt to use the recycling engaged me in a ten minute conversation about the current recycling status and regulations at the Port of Portland. OK, so maybe my people can be a little too friendly sometimes. I really didn't care.
The flight to Boise was short and I slept through the young boy in front of me, probably the same age as my students, blathering on about NASCAR. Kids are so much cuter when you can't understand what they are saying.
The drive to Ontario from Boise really made me realize just how big and desolate the US can be. I reveled in the brown, burned scenery most people wouldn't even think to acknowledge. I became a little sentimental at the lazy, slow turn exit into my hometown. Not too much has changed. Wendy's burned to the ground, but there is an A&W now and even a couple of new sandwich places.
At my parents' place we were greeted by the dogs who ran across the lush green lawn my dad spent all summer nurturing. Even the wealthiest people in Korea wouldn't dream of owning land and a home as big as my parents' in the quiet, bedroom town of Ontario. Owning land is something uniquely American to me. I now realize how fortunate I was to grow up in such a privileged manner.
That night my parents hosted what was to be the first of many gut busting barbecues we would attend during our stay in the USA. This one was made all the more special because my brother and his fiancee flew up from Arizona to visit. We had chorizos, fried fish, mafa chukar and pheasant, grilled seasonal vegetables, baked beans, salad and a decadent caramel cake that Sami's stepmother made. I took a picture to commemorate my first meal back in the states. I served myself one fruit/vegetable plate and one protein/junk food plate. Unfortunately, no one really grooved on the crunchy crabs, so they were used as dog treats.
My friend Sonny and his fiancee and baby boy were nice enough to stop by with a bottle of Chivas. The whiskey and heavy microbrews were a welcome respite from the flavorless Korean beer and soju of the past. The lack of solid sleep accelerated my buzz.
I went to bed that night with a bursting belly and a mind fuzzy warm with scotch. Lying in the soft upstairs bed, icy-cool air conditioner loudly humming. The transition home had been seamless. How could I not enjoy the forgotten comforts of home? The wide open spaces? The cool grass at night, the dry and cicadaless days? The air conditioner and the soft bed? Yes, this was a much needed vacation, and I intended to soak it all in slowly. Right after a good night's sleep.
After lunch I came back into my classroom, moved all of the desks and chairs against the wall, slipped on some heavy duty rubber gloves and began to scrub the recently swept floor with a combination of stripper and water. During the school year a rotating group of students clean my classroom after school. They mean well, but their collectively weak hands and indifferent disposition do little to erase constant scuff marks and dirty feet leavings. They lazily wipe down tables with dry rags and my co-teacher doesn't care enough to tell them otherwise.
I left school with nice sense of accomplishment and decided that I would reward myself by not doing much of anything at home. The packing had all been finished and I wasn't worried about how much sleep I was going to get at night. I figured I would sleep if I was tired, or on the plane. My parents had planned a barbecue for the night we were to arrive stateside, and I was confident that I would rally regardless of my fuel level. I stayed up and watched Craig Fergusen which ends at 1:30 in the morning. Sami wanted me up by 6 to catch the charter bus to the airport at 7. With no other shows of interest airing, I attempted to sleep.
Huge thunderstorms and my tossing and turning kept Sami up intermittently. By 4:30, we had given up hope. We made coffee and I was starving and made 2 bowls of udon which scorched the roof of my mouth instantly. For the next three days I complained about how I had burned myself on stupid plain noodles and, given my oral handicap, wouldn't be able to properly appreciate the American fare I had been craving for a year.
We left earlier than we had planned and dragged bulky black suitcases behind us toward the bus stop. Until now, we had always opted for the subway, but the charter bus to the airport would cut down our travel time by more than an hour. We opted to forgo covering our suitcases with plastic ponchos and, because of this, the rain started up again halfway through our walk.
No one stood near us at the bus stop which Sami attributed to prejudice. I just thought that they were being shy. I slept the entire bus ride.
At the airport, we got Sami some KFC. She got a snack wrap and I ordered myself a couple of overpriced but awesome hot wings. I didn't want to eat too much because I love airline food. I get really excited when I don't know what I am going to eat. I really wish that, at restaurants, someone would order something for me. Reading a menu just opens up an unwinnable, internal debate. I rarely finish a meal out without experiencing entree envy. It is a curse.
On the plane I was quickly reminded of how much I love Asian airlines. We flew Delta and the seats were too close to fall asleep, the stewardesses were sloppily dressed and hovered over our garbage like vultures. I still love flying and Delta was fine, but I missed my tightly skirted Asian stewardesses strolling every half hour with a new treat and freely pouring wine.
We had a layover in Tokyo (Narita) and I am pretty sure that the airport is a good distance away from the city because we saw tons of green, flat farmland- very different from mountainous Korea. Inside I started to feel bad that we didn't bring any treats from Korea to share with family and friends. It would have been interesting to see how they would take to songpyun- sweetly stuffed and soft bites of rice cake, squid jerky or even kimchi. Luckily, I was able to find something uniquely east Asian at a small convenience store at the airport- a bag of candy coated crabs. Each hard crab was about the size of a quarter and coated with sweet miso glaze and sesame seeds. If anything, the sight of the foreign creatures would surely interest my family.
I didn't think they were too bad. Very strong seafood flavor. Not for the weak.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but this really freaked me out. I ran around frantically searching for gate 24, while Sami waited at our gate thinking that they might have confused the numbers. When I got to gate 24, there was an American couple in front of us who were not happy with their service and letting the poor people behind the counter know about it. I waited an uncomfortably long amount of time before approaching. Thoughts like: "What happened to who back at home?" and "What did we drop and where?" raced through my mind. Turns out that the page was for someone named Sam Aden headed to Bangkok.
Sami and I sat across the aisle from each other on the flight to Portland. It wasn't a big deal to us, but it is another example of something that seems to only happen on an American airline.
When we finally landed I was struck by how small the Portland International Airport now seemed to me and how big the people wandering around were. I was nearly always the tallest person on the subway in Seoul, and now teenagers were towering over me. We sat down for a minute to get on our laptop and I couldn't help but eavesdrop on a mother and daughter conversing at a table positioned behind me. I felt so intelligent just being able to completely comprehend what was being said.
We decided to grab a slice of Pizza Schmizza which had just opened minutes before at 9:00 a.m. I was blown away be how friendly the young girl behind the counter was. I even switched up my order after she had warmed my slice in the oven and she didn't bat an eye. I am not saying that Koreans are not friendly in the check out line, but let's just say it is a little more subtle. After our meal, a complete stranger, after watching me attempt to use the recycling engaged me in a ten minute conversation about the current recycling status and regulations at the Port of Portland. OK, so maybe my people can be a little too friendly sometimes. I really didn't care.
Here is the slice I ingested from Pizza Schmizza. Looks perfect don't it? I was surprised at how much saltier many foods tasted after becoming accustomed to Korean cuisine.
The flight to Boise was short and I slept through the young boy in front of me, probably the same age as my students, blathering on about NASCAR. Kids are so much cuter when you can't understand what they are saying.
The drive to Ontario from Boise really made me realize just how big and desolate the US can be. I reveled in the brown, burned scenery most people wouldn't even think to acknowledge. I became a little sentimental at the lazy, slow turn exit into my hometown. Not too much has changed. Wendy's burned to the ground, but there is an A&W now and even a couple of new sandwich places.
At my parents' place we were greeted by the dogs who ran across the lush green lawn my dad spent all summer nurturing. Even the wealthiest people in Korea wouldn't dream of owning land and a home as big as my parents' in the quiet, bedroom town of Ontario. Owning land is something uniquely American to me. I now realize how fortunate I was to grow up in such a privileged manner.
That night my parents hosted what was to be the first of many gut busting barbecues we would attend during our stay in the USA. This one was made all the more special because my brother and his fiancee flew up from Arizona to visit. We had chorizos, fried fish, mafa chukar and pheasant, grilled seasonal vegetables, baked beans, salad and a decadent caramel cake that Sami's stepmother made. I took a picture to commemorate my first meal back in the states. I served myself one fruit/vegetable plate and one protein/junk food plate. Unfortunately, no one really grooved on the crunchy crabs, so they were used as dog treats.
I gained six and a half pounds in a little over two weeks. Here is one reason why: Plate #1 (clockwise from top): mac salad (already half eaten), grilled squash and zucchini , watermelon, fruit salad. Plate #2: baked beans, Tim's Cascade Hawaiian Luau Sweet and Spicy BBQ chips, chorizo with mustard, onions, mayo and relish, and four pieces of marinated, battered and fried wild upland game birds. (Not pictured: everything I drank, a huge hunk of cake, a piece of cheese and a Hot Pocket I ate later)
My friend Sonny and his fiancee and baby boy were nice enough to stop by with a bottle of Chivas. The whiskey and heavy microbrews were a welcome respite from the flavorless Korean beer and soju of the past. The lack of solid sleep accelerated my buzz.
I went to bed that night with a bursting belly and a mind fuzzy warm with scotch. Lying in the soft upstairs bed, icy-cool air conditioner loudly humming. The transition home had been seamless. How could I not enjoy the forgotten comforts of home? The wide open spaces? The cool grass at night, the dry and cicadaless days? The air conditioner and the soft bed? Yes, this was a much needed vacation, and I intended to soak it all in slowly. Right after a good night's sleep.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Book Reviews
Many of the books I read this year were ones that Sami brought. As much as we have in common, we really don't share the same taste in books. Sure, we both enjoy history, but I lean toward U.S. history, or anything post-Industrial Revolution. She likes world history and sometimes it seems like the older the better. I love biographies and fiction that I can relate to. My wife reads as an escape and revels in the made up worlds of Harry Potter and Twilight. My theory is that because she thinks so much in her daily life, and I so little, we each look to books as a way to strive for balance.
The following is a list and half-assed review of the books I have read from August 2009 when we began our journey abroad, to now.
Small Sacrifices Ann Rule- This book is about Diane Downs, a sociopath who shot her own kids and has lied about it to this day. I wanted to read this book because I was living in Eugene, near where the shooting took place. One day I tried to drive out and find the spot where she did it outside of Springfield, but I couldn't find it. We actually saw a special on the case on 20/20 a few months ago. Watching her laugh and joke with the media days after the incident were about as bizarre as it gets. The book is haunting and engrossing which is no surprise with Ann Rule. She is a great journalist and I want to read her famous book on Ted Bundy "A Stranger Beside Me."
American Pastoral Phillip Roth- My brother turned me on to Roth and I have since read four of his novels. I think he is great and this Pulitzer Prize winning novel is considered his masterpiece. I love how he delves so deeply into a man's thoughts. The book is very dense, and in fact the last 200 plus pages deal with actions that occur in one afternoon, but every sentence is rich and needed. It deals with the self-perceived failure of a former standout athlete as a father and a husband. His daughter is a terrorist. Read it!
21: Bringing Down the House- Worlds apart from American Pastoral, but I guess it is ok if you want to learn about counting cards in blackjack. They made a movie based on the book with Kevin Spacey. Haven't seen it and probably won't.
Nightmare in Wichita: The Hunt for the BTK Strangler Robert Beattie- The first half of this book is interesting. I love true crime, especially books that deal with serial killers, but the second half wasn't so great. The author gets pretty full of himself as a local lawyer who cracked the case. Anyway, it got sloppy toward the end, probably because it was updated after they finally caught the guy.
Twilight Stephanie Meyer- Just a little teenage vampire story. You probably haven't heard of it.
New Moon Stephanie Meyer- Yes I read two Twilight books! We had no television at the time and I was desperate! I even tried to read the third, "Eclipse," but couldn't get past the first 150 pages or so. The first two weren't painful. I call them the world's longest "Goosebumps" books. Obviously the books were not written with me in mind as a consumer so I will withhold further judgement.
The Jungle Uptain Sinclair- I tried to read Oil! after watching the movie "There Will Be Blood." I only got halfway through it much preferring the movie. The Jungle is a very depressing tale of an eastern European immigrant family's struggles adjusting to a capitalistic society. The book is famous for its muckracking descriptions of the horrendous meat processing plants of Chicago. I struggled getting into the groove with this book, but it is a story that I will never forget. You should read it.
Until I Find You John Irving- First John Irving book I ever read and it was quite an experience. The characters are so unlike me or anyone I know. I cannot relate to their reactions at all, but I have to admit that it was a good read. I enjoyed it more while I was reading it than I did thinking about it later though. Not sure what that means.
Everything They Had David Halberstam- This is a collection of sports stories by a great writer. I read his book on Belichick. I recommend that over this, but what I really want to read is his "Breaks of the Game" which follows the Blazers back in 1980-81. I saw it at an English language bookstore, but it was too many wan. Maybe next time.
Becoming Madame Mao Jiang Qing- This was a Sami book that I am ashamed to admit that I gave up on with about 30 pages to go. The writing attempted to be very poetic which I don't think is a bad thing, but I just couldn't get into it. Maybe I am just a pig who can't relate to a woman's point of view. The only thing I remember from this book was that Mao chewed green tea leaves that turned his teeth green and he de-virginized a new 12 year old every day because he thought that it would help him stay healthy and live longer. Also because he was a perv.
The Alchemist Paulo Coleho- Another book I am ashamed to admit I couldn't get into. I am sure you've read it, so I'll move on.
The Book of Basketball Bill Simmons- Pure candy for the basketball lover. We all love reading Bill Simmons, but he is an obvious Celtics homer. Also, the chapter on Russell vs. Chamberlain was too long. Those guys were before my time.
My Life in France Julia Childs- If you like cooking and are serious about cooking, you should read this book. I enjoyed it. Same and I saw the movie "Julie and Julia" when we were in Fiji (bootlegged DVD). Half of that movie is based on this book. Guess which half.
When Broken Glass Floats Chanrathy Him- The story of a young Cambodian girl's survival during the Khmer Rouge regime. Many of the scenes in the book are heartbreaking and it is an act of god that she was able to escape to the U.S. (Oregon no less).
Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen- Strange for me to read a classic novel that doesn't deal with death, but I can definitely see why it has stood the test of time. So many unique and interesting characters.
Dracula Brahm Stoker- The first 70 or so pages of this book are some of the best I have ever read, but the rest was a bit of a letdown. Still a classic, and of course, one of the most iconic monsters of all time.
The Road Cormac McCarthy- This is it. Absolutely my kind of book. It seems like I have been searching for an author and a style like this for years. I love the simple prose and straightforward story. It is a post-apocalyptic story of a father and son, but it is not science fiction. I doubt many people will read this far down in my little blog post so I will freely admit that I cried at the end, something I haven't done since who the hell knows. This is hands down my new favorite book. Do yourself a favor and read it. Please.
Everyman Phillip Roth- Crazy that this is the same author as American Pastoral. This book flowed easily and I finished it in only a few hours. Well written and a unique, yet somehow familiar perspective on aging and death.
The World According to Garp John Irving- I enjoyed the book but hated all of the characters. Actually, I take that back. I don't think I enjoyed the book. Sorry.
The following is a list and half-assed review of the books I have read from August 2009 when we began our journey abroad, to now.
Small Sacrifices Ann Rule- This book is about Diane Downs, a sociopath who shot her own kids and has lied about it to this day. I wanted to read this book because I was living in Eugene, near where the shooting took place. One day I tried to drive out and find the spot where she did it outside of Springfield, but I couldn't find it. We actually saw a special on the case on 20/20 a few months ago. Watching her laugh and joke with the media days after the incident were about as bizarre as it gets. The book is haunting and engrossing which is no surprise with Ann Rule. She is a great journalist and I want to read her famous book on Ted Bundy "A Stranger Beside Me."
American Pastoral Phillip Roth- My brother turned me on to Roth and I have since read four of his novels. I think he is great and this Pulitzer Prize winning novel is considered his masterpiece. I love how he delves so deeply into a man's thoughts. The book is very dense, and in fact the last 200 plus pages deal with actions that occur in one afternoon, but every sentence is rich and needed. It deals with the self-perceived failure of a former standout athlete as a father and a husband. His daughter is a terrorist. Read it!
21: Bringing Down the House- Worlds apart from American Pastoral, but I guess it is ok if you want to learn about counting cards in blackjack. They made a movie based on the book with Kevin Spacey. Haven't seen it and probably won't.
Nightmare in Wichita: The Hunt for the BTK Strangler Robert Beattie- The first half of this book is interesting. I love true crime, especially books that deal with serial killers, but the second half wasn't so great. The author gets pretty full of himself as a local lawyer who cracked the case. Anyway, it got sloppy toward the end, probably because it was updated after they finally caught the guy.
Twilight Stephanie Meyer- Just a little teenage vampire story. You probably haven't heard of it.
New Moon Stephanie Meyer- Yes I read two Twilight books! We had no television at the time and I was desperate! I even tried to read the third, "Eclipse," but couldn't get past the first 150 pages or so. The first two weren't painful. I call them the world's longest "Goosebumps" books. Obviously the books were not written with me in mind as a consumer so I will withhold further judgement.
The Jungle Uptain Sinclair- I tried to read Oil! after watching the movie "There Will Be Blood." I only got halfway through it much preferring the movie. The Jungle is a very depressing tale of an eastern European immigrant family's struggles adjusting to a capitalistic society. The book is famous for its muckracking descriptions of the horrendous meat processing plants of Chicago. I struggled getting into the groove with this book, but it is a story that I will never forget. You should read it.
Until I Find You John Irving- First John Irving book I ever read and it was quite an experience. The characters are so unlike me or anyone I know. I cannot relate to their reactions at all, but I have to admit that it was a good read. I enjoyed it more while I was reading it than I did thinking about it later though. Not sure what that means.
Everything They Had David Halberstam- This is a collection of sports stories by a great writer. I read his book on Belichick. I recommend that over this, but what I really want to read is his "Breaks of the Game" which follows the Blazers back in 1980-81. I saw it at an English language bookstore, but it was too many wan. Maybe next time.
Becoming Madame Mao Jiang Qing- This was a Sami book that I am ashamed to admit that I gave up on with about 30 pages to go. The writing attempted to be very poetic which I don't think is a bad thing, but I just couldn't get into it. Maybe I am just a pig who can't relate to a woman's point of view. The only thing I remember from this book was that Mao chewed green tea leaves that turned his teeth green and he de-virginized a new 12 year old every day because he thought that it would help him stay healthy and live longer. Also because he was a perv.
The Alchemist Paulo Coleho- Another book I am ashamed to admit I couldn't get into. I am sure you've read it, so I'll move on.
The Book of Basketball Bill Simmons- Pure candy for the basketball lover. We all love reading Bill Simmons, but he is an obvious Celtics homer. Also, the chapter on Russell vs. Chamberlain was too long. Those guys were before my time.
My Life in France Julia Childs- If you like cooking and are serious about cooking, you should read this book. I enjoyed it. Same and I saw the movie "Julie and Julia" when we were in Fiji (bootlegged DVD). Half of that movie is based on this book. Guess which half.
When Broken Glass Floats Chanrathy Him- The story of a young Cambodian girl's survival during the Khmer Rouge regime. Many of the scenes in the book are heartbreaking and it is an act of god that she was able to escape to the U.S. (Oregon no less).
Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen- Strange for me to read a classic novel that doesn't deal with death, but I can definitely see why it has stood the test of time. So many unique and interesting characters.
Dracula Brahm Stoker- The first 70 or so pages of this book are some of the best I have ever read, but the rest was a bit of a letdown. Still a classic, and of course, one of the most iconic monsters of all time.
The Road Cormac McCarthy- This is it. Absolutely my kind of book. It seems like I have been searching for an author and a style like this for years. I love the simple prose and straightforward story. It is a post-apocalyptic story of a father and son, but it is not science fiction. I doubt many people will read this far down in my little blog post so I will freely admit that I cried at the end, something I haven't done since who the hell knows. This is hands down my new favorite book. Do yourself a favor and read it. Please.
Everyman Phillip Roth- Crazy that this is the same author as American Pastoral. This book flowed easily and I finished it in only a few hours. Well written and a unique, yet somehow familiar perspective on aging and death.
The World According to Garp John Irving- I enjoyed the book but hated all of the characters. Actually, I take that back. I don't think I enjoyed the book. Sorry.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
A Lesson in Humility
I've come to notice that very few Koreans wear sunglasses. We shared this observation with one of Sami's co-teachers and she explained that it is because they feel sunglasses make a person look arrogant.
In this society, humility is the most prized of all the virtues. If you are invited to someone's house and served a lavish meal that obviously took hours to prepare, the host will insist that it was quickly whipped up, and apologize for its simplicity. When I ask my students how they are doing, they always respond with a "so so" or "not so good." Saying that they are good or (heaven forbid) great is frowned upon. To do so would give off the appearance of gloating.
I have grown accustomed to the emphasis on this particular personality trait and have recently begun to wonder if I will notice a difference in the behavior of my fellow countrymen when we visit the states here in a couple of days. Sometimes I get uncomfortable on the subway when I see a foreigner speaking loudly on the subway, standing with their chest out and simply acting confident. In Korea, only babies and small children make noises louder than a whisper and everyone either avoids eye contact or pretends to sleep. Once, our University held an alumni dinner in Seoul and we were seated next to a young Korean couple. They said that the first thing they had to adjust to in the states was passing strangers looking them in the eye and saying hello.
Of course, once you get to know an individual here, they can become a fast friend. I have introduced myself to a few regulars at the gym and it has become a ritual to say hello every time we occupy the same space. Even if I am in a dead sprint on the treadmill, they will come up and say "anyanghaseo!" Another friend of ours who runs the little store by our apartment has shared bags full of homegrown veggies with us.
Things are a little different for Sami though, as blatant sexism still persists. It is little things on the subway like being shushed for speaking English with one of her girlfriends (this would never happen if I was present), or a little kid making a sneering face and running from her, or even someone getting up to leave to a different part of the subway if she sits down next to them. The other day, I was with her on the subway when an elderly man got up out of his seat to get off. Sami and I were standing over him when he grabbed a Korean twentysomething and pulled him into his seat quickly, so that he would get to sit down instead of one of the foreigners. What the man didn't know is that we were actually getting off at the same stop. I was so irked that I intentionally bumped into him quite hard (when bumping into people is the norm, you have to do it pretty hard to get a response). He stumbled and uttered something, and of course I said "mehaneyo" (I'm sorry) and pretended it was an accident.
Sami was mortified, but it made me feel a little better. Lately, I have been getting too upset about the little things Koreans do that irk me. Maybe I need a lesson in humility. Luckily, I will have 17 days to forget about Koreans while I am in the states. Until then, I will get a chance to observe the actions of Americans through my arrogant eyes hidden by sunglasses.
In this society, humility is the most prized of all the virtues. If you are invited to someone's house and served a lavish meal that obviously took hours to prepare, the host will insist that it was quickly whipped up, and apologize for its simplicity. When I ask my students how they are doing, they always respond with a "so so" or "not so good." Saying that they are good or (heaven forbid) great is frowned upon. To do so would give off the appearance of gloating.
I have grown accustomed to the emphasis on this particular personality trait and have recently begun to wonder if I will notice a difference in the behavior of my fellow countrymen when we visit the states here in a couple of days. Sometimes I get uncomfortable on the subway when I see a foreigner speaking loudly on the subway, standing with their chest out and simply acting confident. In Korea, only babies and small children make noises louder than a whisper and everyone either avoids eye contact or pretends to sleep. Once, our University held an alumni dinner in Seoul and we were seated next to a young Korean couple. They said that the first thing they had to adjust to in the states was passing strangers looking them in the eye and saying hello.
Of course, once you get to know an individual here, they can become a fast friend. I have introduced myself to a few regulars at the gym and it has become a ritual to say hello every time we occupy the same space. Even if I am in a dead sprint on the treadmill, they will come up and say "anyanghaseo!" Another friend of ours who runs the little store by our apartment has shared bags full of homegrown veggies with us.
Things are a little different for Sami though, as blatant sexism still persists. It is little things on the subway like being shushed for speaking English with one of her girlfriends (this would never happen if I was present), or a little kid making a sneering face and running from her, or even someone getting up to leave to a different part of the subway if she sits down next to them. The other day, I was with her on the subway when an elderly man got up out of his seat to get off. Sami and I were standing over him when he grabbed a Korean twentysomething and pulled him into his seat quickly, so that he would get to sit down instead of one of the foreigners. What the man didn't know is that we were actually getting off at the same stop. I was so irked that I intentionally bumped into him quite hard (when bumping into people is the norm, you have to do it pretty hard to get a response). He stumbled and uttered something, and of course I said "mehaneyo" (I'm sorry) and pretended it was an accident.
Sami was mortified, but it made me feel a little better. Lately, I have been getting too upset about the little things Koreans do that irk me. Maybe I need a lesson in humility. Luckily, I will have 17 days to forget about Koreans while I am in the states. Until then, I will get a chance to observe the actions of Americans through my arrogant eyes hidden by sunglasses.
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