Beer House

Day 4: 멕주 집(maekju jeeb)
Our day started off promisingly slow. I love day-long excursions but the last three days made me appreciate my floorbed a little more and I was looking forward to catching up on all this blogging. Giving my brain a break from 5 days of constant translating sounded nice too. I headed to the cafe down the street and bought a cup of coffee worth of wifi (wireless doesn’t just float all around here like it does back in the States) and decided to tag along with my mom to her elementary school reunion later that night. Yeah, elementary school reunion, I thought it was weird too but then I remembered not everyone even went to high school back in the day so it makes sense. If I hadn’t seen some of you since the 6th grade, I’d probably want to catch up and compare photos of our snot-nosed kids too.

We drank a whole lot. Cass and Hite are beers comparable to Bud or Miller Light back home, which there was plenty of. We also had Korea’s liqour staples, soju and makoli. We stayed late and got lost on the subway from 11 to 1, then caught a bus, then caught a cab and got home around 2. I have officially ridden all forms of Korean transit.


Tentacles.


Brains.

Everything is drenched. My shoes, clothes, hair, skin. I feel like I can’t stay dry or clean in this weather. Most Korean homes don’t bother to turn on their air conditioning (why have it?) so I have to admit, my spoiled ass is dragging. I have gotten used to the bathrooms. It drove me crazy at first, how the floor is always wet. Getting dressed after a shower is a hassel. If you didn’t splash water on your clothes (no curtain, remember) your pantlegs will still soak up the puddles from the floor, after your wet feet get water on the inside of your pants. But I’m going to solve this with a new shopping conquest: a silk robe to walk back to my room in and air dry in peace.

Culture Shocks of the Day:
1. No one takes the stairs.
2. Passing gas and PDA are not allowed on the subway.
3. I accidentally ate some animal’s brain. I thought it was like a small intestine which was bad enough. Mm, black market soup.
4. Pervs are pervs in any language. I don’t know what the man on the bus said to my mom and me but I know what he was saying.

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