And Koreans think eel is for eating . . . pshaw!

Last week I gave into a three-month hankering for a custom-made eel skin briefcase. I noticed the store, "Golden Eel Skin" (simplicity is always good), during my first week in Korea and I haven't been able to keep myself away since. I believe I've personally kept Mr. Eel Skin in business for the last four months. A portion of each of my paychecks might as well be directly deposited to this little shop in Itaewon.

My shiny new briefcase was well worth the wait. Since I've never been very good at the whole delay of gratification thing, I was very proud of my ability to hold out and save up for this special purchase. It's just too bad that's not my personal handbag closet we're standing in.

You Snooze, You Lose!

My Mom has graciously supplied the KBS World Radio English section with decorations for every American holiday since I've been in Korea. Last week I received three headbands with springy hearts attached for Valentine's Day--one each for Sophia, Mr. Chae, and me. Mr. Chae was skeptical at first, and particularly concerned once we informed him that he's expected to wear the headband the entire day on February 14th. Since Mr. Chae has narcoleptic tendencies, I warned him that if he falls asleep in the office, he's likely to wake up sporting bouncing hearts on his head. The perfect opportunity didn't take long to present itself. This shot was taken last Friday afternoon.

It's 6 degrees below 0 in Seoul . . . Celsius

My goal of the week has been to wrap my mind around the metric temperature scale. Sometime back in junior high science class I was taught (although I probably wasn't listening) how to convert Fahrenheit temperatures to Celsius, as well as the history behind the development of each system. I'm sure I figured it out, but as with anything I don't really need to know, I promptly forgot the equation and went on happily and comfortably thinking of temperature solely within the realm of the U.S. standard. The same goes for measurements for length, weight, and capacity. To this day when someone mentions "liter" or "hectare" I immediately go into deer-in-the-headlights mode, my palms get sweaty, and I realize maybe I should have been paying attention in that junior high science class instead of reading Teen Magazine under my desk. This week I discovered a handy little tool right on my computer desktop at work. I've always had a little window in the corner that tells me what the current Seoul temperature is, as well as the three-day forecast. It was installed on my desktop when I started working at KBS, and was already set to forecast in Fahrenheit. During another mind-is-a-blank-slate moment this week, as I was staring unproductively at my computer screen, I noticed the "F" next to the temperature reading was clickable. Since not touching or messing with things has never been my strong point, I clicked on it and all the readings turned to Celsius. Now, we're talkin'! So, for the rest of the week I periodically clicked back and forth to get a rough idea of what the conversion would be. I started to test myself by the end of the week . . . "Okay, 29 degrees Fahrenheit . . . if it's -1 or -2 Celsius, I'll allow myself a cookie from the coffee shop this afternoon," (every accomplishment should come with some kind of reward). So, for the sole reason of being tired of feeling like an idiot, I'm taking proactive measures to understand a concept it seems the rest of the world has mastered. The rest of the world and its ultra logical system for measurement . . . that's a blog for another day.

"Mr. Lee's" Shrimp Truck

Last week I mentioned that the lure of street food in all its greasy, scrumptious glory has finally proved too formidable for my tenuous willpower. Just about the time I was losing my hold on self-control, a little man set up a mobile fried shrimp restaurant right outside my apartment building. Mr. Lee (let's just him Mr. Lee--it's a safe bet) is now a nightly fixture outside Useong Apartments, his product sizzling in vats of boiling oil, sending wafts of fried goodness through the air. How's a girl to resist? It's particularly difficult to just-say-no on cold nights when Mr. Lee looks like such an unfortunate soul, bound to a life of frying street shrimp despite brutal winter weather.


Now Mr. Lee's little business endeavor has me battling my inner obese person on a daily basis. The battle between the fat devil on my right shoulder and the trim angel on my left begins about ten minutes before the bus drops me off outside my apartment building. The only thing saving me from utter gluttony is the fact that Mr. Lee has yet to discover a little secret known as cocktail sauce.

Good thing I'm a "people person"

In my residential neighborhood outside of Seoul proper, it's sometimes easy to forget that over ten million people call South Korea's capital home. A short subway ride into the heart of the metropolis offers a quick reality check. Here are some photos that demonstrate just how packed this place is. Weekend jaunts for shopping or sight-seeing can be exhausting, battling dense crowds pushing and shoving as everyone vies for that last seat on the subway train.

A shot of a traditional market area, Namdaemun, on a weekend. It's difficult to stop and ponder merchandise at any of the stands because the crowd pushes you through.

This shot was taken as I was transferring from one subway line to another on a Friday afternoon. It was approaching rush hour, so things only got worse after this.

Another shot in the subway. Because I'm so short, I usually have no idea how far away my destination is. I have to focus on the floor to make sure I'm prepared to maneuver any steps that come up.

Meeguks on Ice

I went ice skating near Seoul City Hall today. The place was packed since most school children are on a one-month vacation right now. It was my first time ice skating, but I managed to stay upright the entire time. I would share pictures of my double axles, but I was moving too quickly for a good shot.