True Love, South Korean style: Part 5 - When couple love becomes family love. Confession time.

Yesterday was Sunday. The last day of Chuseok, a South Korean national holiday that is bigger than Christmas. It is all about giving gift boxes of Spam or a root of ginseng and spending quality time  with your family. Our Sunday began fairly innocuously. I managed a rare slight sleep in, ignoring the  kids as they roamed the house randomly yelling until they were handed the i-pad (genius device). Husband managed to get them fed and dressed (am still amazed that he knew where their clothes were) and out the door for Sunday church as I commenced my quest for the perfect pair of winter jeans (futile). Then we all met up again for lunch and that is where the horror began.

I sit here still shuddering and shaking as I write so ignore my longer than ever rambling sentences because what happened after lunch must go down as one of the most disturbing moments of our time here in Korea and, quite possibly, my time as a parent!  Before eating their much-loved toasted cheese sandwiches, all my children - yes, the three of them at ages 6, 4 and 2 - took it upon themselves to re-dress for the afternoon as they often do (three to four outfit changes a day are normal in our house). But this time, when they returned from their bedrooms there was no usual princess/fairy/pink thing in sight. Instead, they had conspired with each other to each put on the below blue t-shirt and become our own little family love match for the afternoon! Oh my goodness. The horror of it all!

The offending article of clothing

Before you smugly comment that this is all my fault as you assume that I was the responsible party for purchasing the said offending items, I would like to point out that the purchasing was done from one of their lovely grandmothers some time ago and I had mistakenly thought that the matter had already been dealt with: that at least one had already become too small; one had been thrown out thanks to some impervious to all forms of stain remover known to man mark down the front (this is the one in the picture); and one just sat unworn in the fussier child's wardrobe.  But no, how wrong I was. Yesterday, everything changed. The three blue t-shirts went on and they all went out and, for them, it was perfectly, perfectly acceptable. Oh my goodness (again)!

I had never thought that stopping random strangers in the street to request a photo or, at times, stalking strangers in order to sneakily take a photo of their loved up bliss could possibly result in my children becoming now willing accomplices in the love match craze. Chuseok hasn't helped. This three day harvest holiday of South Korea, where, as part of the celebration of Autumn's good harvest, Koreans return to their hometowns to pay respects to their ancestors, has, essentially been love match on steroids in the streets of Seoul. Love match pumped up to a new level previously heard of but not seen and definitely not expected at all or in such numbers. Witness the family love match on Chuseok holiday!

Korean family in holiday mode (taken last week in Thailand)

Insadong 

Samcheong-dong

Three men, three matching sneakers

Six people (one man missing from this photo)  = three couples = two sets of matching sneakers (so this wasn't taken on Chuseok but on another holiday but it is worth repeating here to add to the story)

So what does this family love match dressing mean? Maybe it is a holiday uniform: we go on holiday and will wear red t-shirts on Monday, blue t-shirts on Tuesday etc? Maybe it is for safety reasons: if you get lost just look for the same coloured t-shirt as the one you have on? Maybe the couple started off as a love match and already had two t-shirts the same, so purchasing for their offspring was just an extension of their wardrobe? Maybe it brings a sense of calm to an otherwise crowded sea of people visiting tourist spots (hot tip: do not visit Gyeongbukgung Palace during Chuseok. You, or a family member, maybe even a two year old called Zoe, will get lost in the mayhem). 

Whatever the reason, I don't think I like it. Love match I am kind of getting on board with (although this does not mean I am about to embark upon it) but family love match? I just don't know how it can be possible. I recently bought a pair of salmon coloured shorts (not as disgusting as they sound) and I fast came to the realisation that I was beginning to dress like my Mum. While this is slightly worrying (I once swore I would never wear salmon) I feel I can justify it because I am dressing like my Mum dressed when I was a kid and she was the Mum; not like I am five and I am dressing like my 35 year old Mum because that would never have worked. I would have wanted jeans and a t-shirt whereas Mum would have wanted something pink and frilly, coupled with oversized multiple necklaces and earrings. Based on this fact, maybe my under-appreciation of family dressing is the fact that, once again, I just don't understand how the decision on clothing is made acceptable to all parties involved, particularly where a generation gap is involved. 

What really worries me though is that, like PSY, it appears that family match's time to shine has come and my kids are already onboard. That means it is only a matter of time before we all become same-same crazed. Please don't let this be you. And definitely don't let it be me. If you see me in Gap this weekend, firmly hold my hand and walk me out the door. I beg of you. 

True Love, South Korean style: Part 4 - I have an answer to one love match conundrum but I fear it has posed yet more questions...

Much to the embarrassment of my Australian Korean speaking friend (although given how pumped she was afterwards I think that she was secretly quite into being my accomplice), I snapped this photo yesterday in Myeongdong and then managed to gently twist her arm so as to persuade her to utilise her interpreting skills for a mini-interview. I could only manage one question in the hustle and bustle of downtown Seoul on a sunny Sunday afternoon and that was: who in the couple was responsible for the outfit choice (dark chambray shirt, black jeans and beige TOMS shoes)?

Answer: apparently they went shopping together with the express purpose of choosing a suitable love match outfit. How wonderfully, beautifully romantic is that? Not only do young, loved up Koreans happily (I assume) shop together but they also manage to jointly decide on an outfit together (in this case a shirt, jeans and shoes even not just a simple, plain white t-shirt) and purchase together? Again, I assume, with no arguments. This does not accord with my memory of the one and only joint shopping trip I have been on with husband which took place in the Sydney Ikea (on a rainy Sunday and before there were two Sydney Ikeas to share the load of slightly crazed newly-weds and/or expectant couples) and, despite the chocolate covered coffee beans I had cleverly stashed in my bag to cope with the occasion, within five minutes of stepping into the store it was on and we both were in a world of pain, pitted against each other over the appropriate choice of chair colour. 

So, I therefore now have an answer to my relationship dilemma no. 2, posed back in Part 1 of this obsession - the responsibility for outfit choice (Part 1). However, far from easing my interest (anxiety) over love match, the express action of shopping, selecting and purchasing together has raised additional questions.

Firstly, ownership over outfit. Is the outfit reserved for only those days when you are to be out together (presumably you don't need to wear same same when lounging about at home however I have no proof for this) or could you wear it when alone, ie, on the days where you are not intending to see your partner? Secondly, is it acceptable to break up the outfit: could you chose to just wear the shoes and not the shirt, jeans, shoes combination or must the outfit be preserved to be worn in its entirety only when the other partner is around and clothed the same way?

Part 1's relationship dilemma no. 1 - the timing of the selection -  remains unanswered also. My current hypothesis as to how Koreans make this at all possible is that the "choice" must be made early on in the relationship - in the rose-coloured days of young love where your partner's quirks are still quite cute. Miss that window and your ability to jointly choose an outfit might not be so easy (refer to Ikea experience above). But, again, I could have the entire relationship trajectory around the wrong way. Maybe, the longer you are together here in Korea the deeper your need becomes to dress the same?  

Well, good thing my Australian Korean speaking accomplice was into the questioning (some might call it stalking but I am calling it investigative journalism) as I need her around for further couple analysis. 

Soul to Seoul: soul searching seoul for answers to love!

Myeongdong love

Beanie love

Full outfit love 

Backpack love

Uniqlo love 

Hongdae love

New Balance love

Stripey love

drinking coffee in seoul

I thought I had packed my little stovetop coffee machine (google research = official term is moka pot) in our removal boxes which meant that just for the first little while here in Seoul I would have to buy coffee but it has sadly failed to materialise (yet another thing that has mysteriously disappeared despite the fact we were supremely confident we had organised the removal process extremely well (husband had his trusty clipboard at hand so how could we fail?)). This means I must continue on my quest to discover the best coffee from the streets of Seoul. So far, my diligent drinking research, averaging one coffee a day, which over eight months equals roughly 250 coffees purchased (and drunk) from various vendors across town, has led me to the following observations on, and hot tips for, coffee in Seoul.

• Coffee in Seoul is expensive, generally expect to pay KRW 5000 won for a cup. Coffee in Gangnam is ridiculously expensive. KRW 10,000 won for a petite, classy, cup with saucer, coffee (you are in Gangnam after all). The cheapest is underground in the subway.
• A coffee shop (usually two or three) is on every corner so please don't worry about ever going thirsty. Angel in-us Coffee, Holly's Coffee, Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, Ediya Coffee and Starbucks are the big chains. And then there are the smaller, independent coffee shops scattered in between. When all else fails, 7-11 does a mean takeaway number from the fridge that you can heat up with your instant noodles in their in-store microwaves. 
• Coffee from  McDonalds is pretty good (possibly helped by the fact that I can also understand the menu).
• Every coffee house advertises hand drip coffee although I am yet to see it in action.
• Coffee from the dude on the hill in Samcheon-dong is good. Really good.  
• Apparently, it is not the done thing to drink hot coffee in Seoul in summer so don't be surprised when you receive a very, very confused look when you say you want it hot. 
• The man who makes "pure" coffee in Insa-dong will not let you have a cappuccino to go but a latte is fine to take-away. 
• Cinnamon goes on top of all coffees here. I miss the chocolate dusting (it has been the reason that I have long resisted being grown up and ordering a latte as opposed to a cappuccino in Australia). 
• Coffee from the school cafeteria will take at least 10 minutes as they painstakingly make one coffee at a time and give each cup a lot of love. 
• Bringing along your own take-away cup to a cafe is a novelty and will draw attention (particularly when you Keep cup is hot pink with lime green). 
• There are no coffee makers in this town who wear overalls (from what I have seen thus far anyway). So maybe it is true that the coffee making man who totally worked his red coffee machine in his grey overalls in Canberra is totally unique. Who would have thought?
• Coffee must be drunk through a miniature straw. I don't know why but it does. 

My favourite coffee to date?  The local Lotto store where you can place a bet (I have no idea what on) and have your coffee at the same time from the guy with glasses who measures exactly the right amount of milk with his glass pyrex jug. It is really good coffee at a good price but I am wondering if maybe my liking  it  might have something to do with the fact that coffee maker man always rushes to open the door for me when he sees me coming, gives free drinks to the kiddlylinks, can speak perfect English to compensate for my complete lack of Korean (note that, by now, I have discovered my exceptional sign language talent), has posters of k-pop stars adorning the walls and, might I add, is just a little cute to boot? Of course not. It is only the coffee, people, that brings me back...

Lotto coffee. Got to love the slogan!

The advertisement for the coffee man in Samcheon-dong. Follow the yellow horse dog thing.

Samcheong-dong coffee. Roasted in (a very cool) house. 

love match party. I missed it.

Why did I not know about this?  Does it mean that you turn up with your significant other both already dressed the same? Do you turn up and search for  partner based on the fact that you will both be wearing the same New Balance sneakers? Perhaps you find your love at the party and then the party organisers provide you with same same clothes? How does this happen? I need to get on the party invite list (dude on the poster is a K-POP superstar btw).

thanks for your photos. It proves that the love match trend is becoming a world wide phenomenon!

It turns out that is not just me that has become obsessed with love match or with crazy adjuma matching clothes. Or maybe I have encouraged all of you to take to this thing with abandonment? Whatever the reason here are a few shots from friends that I am posting just to prove that:

1. I am not setting these shots up; and 
2. Love match is everywhere (including, apparently on a Chinese game show where the prize is a pair of custom made matching sneakers (thanks Amanda for pointing that one out)). I suggest you couples out there go shopping!!!

Mum and son. Why did the dad choose to not join in?

Nothing like grey trackie dacks with yellow sneakers

Too cute!

Matching socks and sandals for a rainy day

Taking the love away: Koreans on holiday in Jakarta 

Whilst in Rome? They are not Korean! It is official - love match is spreading!!!

True Love, South Korean style: Part 3 - Love match on holiday. I think the love-matchers may have a point...

 So there was an article in the paper this week (front page no less) about the problem of people not hooking up in Korea (the paper was a bit more nuanced than this. See "Mom wants you married? So does the State",  New York Times, 5 August 2013). Apparently the government has been  proactively engaging in the couple business, with some Departments/Ministries holding "dating parties" for their staff with counterparts from private corporations (the Ministry of Health and Welfare held four dating parties in 2010). Company rules are also being relaxed and inter-office romances are now allowed to take place. 

In the days that followed the initial article, and in the article itself, a number of reasons were put forth as to why it is that singledom is starring at the moment. Shyness seemed to be the prevailing rationale. Apparently, arranged marriages were the norm up until a generation ago and South Koreans still largely prefer formal introductions. Dating agencies, along with government schemes, are growing in popularity as a way to promote coupledom bliss (ultimately the government is hoping for children to be produced as a result of a happy union to boost SK's low birthrate). Some computer savvy types have even orchestrated special flash mob love events (men wear white and women wear red) in an attempt to uncover deep desires (see Flash mob for love South Korea Christmas 2012)

Subway advertisement for a dating agency (I think

South Koreans may have it tough when it comes to getting together but, again, as my love match obsession photographs demonstrate, there is no such shyness when it comes to displaying their love in public. I think (but feel a little unqualified commenting in this as have been off the dating scene for sometime now) that this is the opposite of where I come from. Not so shy in the initial approach (a little nervous yes but not intimidated by the prospect of new meetings) but once the hook up is well underway and the relationship status has been secured, public displays of affection (PDAs in my world)  are kept to a minimum. And as for love-match dressing? That would be a no. 

After a recent holiday around South Korea (more on that adventure later), I am beginning to feel maybe I have it the wrong way round. Just take a look at the loved-up pictures of couples clearly enthralled with each other on holidays. Romantic bliss in identical pink raincoats stands out as my favourite. I fear if someone had bothered to take a picture of me and my husband on our holiday we would not have come across just as serene and we certainly would not have come across as coordinated! While I could try to blame the stress of child-raising for this, it would not be the real answer and nor would it be much of an excuse. On my travels we saw many older couples dressed love match style (maybe not the whole outfit but the shoes at least). So I am thinking, just to keep the romance alive, perhaps it is time to purchase some same same articles of clothing for the pale, tall, skinny white dude and the short, chubby, olive white chick who hang out with each other most weekends and occasionally during the week? Only issue is what brand t-shirt would we be and where on earth do you find matching swimsuits? 

my fave couple in matching pink raincoats. 

      This couple also had on matching shorts and were super sweet
        about being photographed for what they referred to as  "couple dressing."

so not a fluke!

more brand love

all in love 

sunset watching happy love

too cool love

too much love!

sightseeing love

more sightseeing love 

more brand love whilst sightseeing

beach love

beach love for couples

And that is food!

I have long been fascinated with the discovery of foods that today we find as everyday items on the supermarket shelf.  For example, consider the day that the first potato chip was served up. Someone (George Crum apparently) peeled a potato, sliced it, fried it and added a bit of salt at the end to create the crisp. Well done George. A relatively simple, yet transformational, achievement for the potato. Not all food metamorphoses are as straightforward however. Take chocolate. Imagine being a Mayan warrior and waking up one day to deduce that the bitter, bitter, fruit of the cacao tree could be turned into some yummy kind of deliciousness if you simply: fermented the seeds of the cacao fruit; dried seeds; cleaned seeds; roasted seeds; removed seed shell; grounded the insides of the seed; liquified the grounded bits; turned the liquid into a solid;  added sugar; and (finally) added milk? The Mayan warrior might not have completed all of these steps in one go (the last two steps were European additions) but you get the point. From this:

The humble cacao bean

To this:

           Chocolate chips from Costco (best I could do here but if I could
           have found Lindt dark chocolate the picture would have been      
           very different (imagine a face covered in chocolate smears but not
           the chocolate itself!!)

Where am I going with this while in Korea here you ask? Well, it turns out that Korea has quite a lot of food to add to a list that I will title "What were they thinking when they decided to do that to that and then eat it?" (WTF for short). My present list comprises of some complicated and some more simpler food substances.

Kimchi

Of course, I have to begin with kimchi. Kimchi is Korea's national dish which is eaten at practically every meal, either as a side dish or as a main dish (kimchi stew, kimchi chicken, kimchi tofu, etc). It has been to space (and I assume all was eaten there with the Korean astronaut so none came back). Who woke up, sometime in the 7th Century, and worked out that salting cabbage and adding red pepper, garlic, ginger, spring onions and radishes (the most usual combination but there are variations depending on region and season) and burying it outside in a stoneware pot  for months at a time could result in  a spicy, smelly dish of extreme goodness for your body (not necessarily your senses although you do start to get used to it). We recently moved house and were presented with a Kimchi fridge (that has special controls to ensure kimchi is kept at optimal temperatures during its various stages of fermentation) in addition to our usual fridge  Apparently November is the prime kimchi preparation time, so I shall have to stop blogging and commence kimchiing then. Let's just hope the rain stops soon or we might be faced with a kimchi crisis reminiscent of 2010 when there was a national shortage of cabbage across Korea leading to a hefty increase in the price of cabbage and a fear that the kimchi pickling season would have to be abandoned.

Traditional kimchi storage pots

Kimchi at the supermarket

Acorn jelly

In the front yard of my family home, right next to the red brick letter box, we had a huge acorn tree that provided endless hours of entertainment for three rambunctious kids. We could climb, swing, hide, run round and round, jump in the tree leaves and, of course, collect the thousands of acorns that would fall from the tree in autumn. We would save the acorn hats for the fairies in the garden (useful as umbrellas for the poor little darlings) and use the bodies for various craft projects (creating acorn people was a favourite). Yet with all of our acorn related adventures we had never considered cracking the acorns open, grounding up the inside into a paste like susbstance, stirring that paste into water, collecting the starch that then forms, purging the starch of noxious tannins (over the course of several days), settle and dry the starch, mix it again with water, and perhaps some corm starch, to make a jelly where, added with sliced garlic, soy sauce, sesame oil and red chilli, we would eat it all up. What were we thinking? This is dotorimuk (and it is actually rather delicious).

Acorn jelly pre-made (you can also buy it as a power and
make it up yourself)

What it looks like out of the packet 

Bamboo salt

Bamboo salt is a perfect example of WTF. It is described as a "warehouse of vital minerals" (for around $55 a vial I would expect nothing less) yet how this warehouse came to be is completely bizarre. First of all you need to locate natural sea salt from the West Coast of Korea. Next, find bamboo trunks that are at least 3 years old, fill them with the west coast sea salt and plug up both ends with specially located yellow soil. Stack the salt filled bamboo trunks inside a steel furnace but only burn the furnace with pine tree firewood and the pine resin. Repeat this process 8 times and on the ninth and final time the temperature must reach 1500 degrees to ensure that the now liquified salt fuses with the minerals from the broken down bamboo and the yellow soil. Amazing.

Bamboo salt for sale 

Live octopus

Here, I would argue that covering in bread crumbs and deep frying with a sprinkling of salt, pepper and  chilli, is a great idea. Eating live, raw octopus straight from the sea (or in our case the fish tank at the front of the restaurant) with no additives is actually not that pleasant (and rather chewy). I kept expecting (not that I ate that much) the tentacles to keep crawling and sucking in my mouth. The trick seems to be to watch the tentacles slowly stop moving (that would be die!) in front of you while you engage in meaningless banter with your dinner companions over a glass or two of soju. I'm not rushing back people. 

Mountain herbs 

This is a dish we discovered on the outskirts of Odaesan National Park, just beyond the gates of the Woljeongsa Temple. We watched the men come back to the restaurant from a morning of picking what really did look like weeds from the side of the mountain. They then spent some time de-soiling and skinning followed by pickling, dipping, covering in kimchi, sesame oil, chilli etc and presented us with plates of mountain herb delicacies. It was delicious. Seriously. 

Lunch for five (three of which are under six)

Crust of burnt rice tea

Crust of burnt rice tea is literally just that - the crust of burnt rice from the bottom of your rice cooker (and I thought it was only me that managed to burn rice in a rice cooker). Luckily, Korea does sell this tea in bag form so you don't need to wait until you burn your rice for dinner (or breakfast or lunch) to partake in this deceptively simple concoction. I do feel that it tastes a bit like cornflakes which I am not sure I like so much in a cup of tea but when in Rome...

Soul to Seoul: it's not just chicken soup for the soul here but an array of herbs, a lot of chilli, some marinated bamboo stems, dried lotus flowers, pickled persimmons and a lot of special preparatory processes thrown in for good measure! And I have only just begun...