Lunch With Mr. Nam

After calligraphy lessons I hurried to DongA to meet Mr. Nam, my hiking buddy. He wanted to have lunch together. He, too, is a teacher at a hogwan (though he teaches math) so his days are free. This isn’t a bad life.

We went to the top of DongA to the Korean restaurant. We sat down at a table with a burner in the middle. The waitress came by, he ordered. This is an interesting thing I’ve noticed about eating here. Normally one person will order for the whole table. Sometimes that person will ask you what you want, but most of the time they won’t. Two of this. Three of that. I asked what he had ordered. He looked at me strangely and repeated what he told the waitress, “Shi-boo, shi-boo.” Yes, yes, I heard you, but what is it? “Meat. And rice. And I can’t remember the word in English.”

While we were waiting for the food to arrive, we chatted about what we had each done in the previous couple of weeks since our last hike together. His family and friends had come to town for sol-nal, I had gone to Po-hang, I had started calligraphy lessons. “Really? So-yae? You? You know Chinese?” No, but I’m learning. “Oh, I think this very, very good. For you mental condition, too.” Yes, I can always use something to help my mental condition.

The food arrived. A big pot of broth set to broil on the burner in between us. Two wooden trays of meat (maybe beef?) sliced paper-thin, rolled up like scrolls, stacked in a pyramid. Surrounded by lettuce cups filled with seasoned rice. “Like this, Rori.” He delicately picked up a scroll of meat with his chopsticks, put it in the bubbling broth, swished it around (it browned in seconds), shook the excess liquid from it, dipped it in a red sauce, placed it on a lettuce cup, then put the whole thing in his mouth. “You try.” Okay. I evaluated the various steps. Nothing new. Nothing I hadn’t done before. Just not all together. I accomplished all of the steps successfully until the very last. I had put the meat into the lettuce cup. In my right hand were my empty chopsticks. In my left had was the lettuce cup filled with rice and meat. Hmmmm . . . I needed both hands to put the lettuce cup in my mouth. Where to put my chopsticks? I tried to gently place them beside the tray of meat, avoiding the dozen or so bowls of sprouts, kimchi, spinach, etc. that had been placed on the table. Somehow, after placing them on the table, before I could get the lettuce cup to my mouth, something (maybe my elbow?) hit a chopstick, sending it catapulting into the air. No. No. Not another chopstick incident. It somersaulted through the air, I reached to grab it, missed, and sent it flying into the center burner. Under the boiling pot. To his credit, Mr. Nam didn’t look surprised at all. Or maybe that’s to my discredit. He pecked at my glowing chopstick (it was metal) with his chopsticks, pulled it out of the flame, placed it to the side, and offered me another chopstick from the box on the table. And continued the conversation as if nothing unusual had happened.

Ko-Ryo

I mentioned to Mr. Nam I had attended the concert on Sunday for the Ko-Ryo people. “Ko-Ryo? What is that?” Koreans living in Russia. “Oh, yes, yes. Good?” Yes, the dances were beautiful. But, why are there Koreans in Russia? “Oh, this is very difficult to explain.” Okay.

“Many, many years ago Japan did terrible thing. Overtake Korea. Very bad. 1910. Much fighting. You understand?” Yes. Continue. “Many Koreans fight back. Very bad. Japan won. Very bad. People who fight Japan, in trouble. Can’t stay in Korea. Understand?” Yes. “So they left. To China. To Russia. Lived there. Japan – in Korea for 36 long years. Very bad. Understand?” Yes. Go on. “So, in China, in Russia, make lives. Sometimes marry. Make neighbors. Economy in China, Russia, Korea, very bad. Yes?” Yes. “Now, economy in Korea very good. Economy in China, Russia very bad. But they stay. Maybe married. Maybe don’t know people in Korea. But hard life. So we send help.” Thank you, I understand now. Wow.

Dates, Dates, Dates. . .

After lunch he took me to the hog-wan that he owns. Mr. Nam’s Math Academy. He gave me a tour and we talked about students’ schedules (he thinks they go to too much school, too), the weather, hiking, then he pulled out a calendar so we could schedule our next hike. We decided on next Wednesday. There was a special notation on the date. Kyong Jik. What’s that? He laughed. “It’s frog day.” What? “Day when frogs no hibernate, come out, many, many frogs. Springtime.” Oh, so we will see many frogs on our hike on Wednesday? He laughed again. “No.” No? Why not? He laughed again. But didn’t answer.

Other interesting dates: March 1 – Independence Movement from Japan Day; April 5 – Plant Tree Day; May 5 – Children’s Day; May 8 – Parent’s Day; May 15 – Teacher’s Day; May 19 – Buddha’s birthday. I can’t wait until the last one. That sounds so cool. To celebrate Buddha’s birthday. We only got through May. Maybe on Wednesday we’ll finish the calendar. .