Mae-mees

Summer in Korea is characterized by high heat and humidity, and the deafening drone of millions of singing mae-mees (the Korean word for "cicada"). I, for one, was excited when I heard the first cicadas a couple of weeks ago. My fondness for these bugs goes back to my childhood in Texas, when I spent countless summer hours climbing trees and catching them. Cicadas are not harmful to plants, and cannot bite or sting.


Cicadas are really fascinating insects. They exist on all the continents except Antarctica, and there are so many species that many remain unclassified. Depending on the species, they spend three to seventeen years underground as nymphs, and then crawl to the surface. After climbing a tree, they perform their final molt, turning into a large, winged bug. In one short summer they sing and mate, lay their eggs and die.


They leave their empty skins, like these, all over trees and bushes.




As in Texas, you can see cicada skins on nearly ever tree you look at. Here Katie holds a leaf with one on it to provide a sense of scale.


Generally, Cicada nymphs emerge from the ground to molt at night. This is because while they are shedding their skin they are especially vulnerable. The few nymphs that, for whatever reason, emerge after daylight are often eaten by birds or, as with this one we found, by ants.


The most common cicada here is this small, well-camouflaged kind. These really blend in with trees, making them more difficult to spot than the ones I grew up with in Texas. The most common Texas species was tibicen superba, which was bright green; click here to see a photo of one. We have also seen some very large blackish ones, but I haven't been able to get close enough to one to take a picture.


Cicada songs vary by species. These have a shrill "whine" that sounds like a small motor running at a very rate of RPMs. Cicadas love the heat, so the hotter the day, the louder the cicadas. Sometimes they will taper off if the sun goes behind a cloud. But the moment the sun comes out again they all resume in unison. I asked some of my students if they liked mae-mees, and most said "yes". A few said they didn't, and when I asked them why they said, "Teacher, loud!". They also informed me, with no small display of disgust, that in China people eat mae-mees.



While Katie and I were cicada hunting, we also ran across this spider. We think it was wrapping up a bug, but couldn't be sure. We've seen more spiders in Korea than Katie is comfortable with.




To our surprise, a number of trees have suddenly blossomed here. We had assumed that the flowers left with the spring, but these blossoming trees are everywhere.

Korean Commercials

Just to give everyone an idea of some of the commercials we see on television here... This first one is for "Rush n Cash", which I assume is like a payday loan place. Their commercials play constantly, and this particular one was one of the first we saw in our hotel room in Seoul.


You might be surprised to learn that Wentworth Miller (star of the show "Prison Break") has done several Korean coffee commercials in which he sings. Miller is very popular in Korea, and I'm sure they compensated him well to do this commercial. It plays often. Those of you who have watched the movie "Lost in Translation" will especially appreciate this commercial... Right side, and, uh, with intensity.


This commercial is about ramen, which Koreans call "ram-ee-on", and is clearly directed toward kids. Korean kids absolutely love it, and will even eat it uncooked as a snack. The commercial shows it being cooked in a copper pot, and various vegetables being added to it, along with boiled eggs. At one point someone dumps a bowl of rice into it as well. We have eaten ramen this way several times.


Okay, not sure this is a commercial, and I can't say that I saw it prior to watching it on YouTube, but it's pretty funny. It's a cartoon encouraging kids to eat their rice ("bap" in Korean). I'm surprised that Korean kids need encouragement.

A Few Random Pictures

Recently Katie and I went with some friends to the new City Seven Mall here in Changwon. The mall is significant because true malls don't seem to be that common in Korea. City Seven is quite large, and though all the shops weren't open yet, we visited on grand opening day. The mall had hired a group of weird Russian circus-folk -I really have no other words to describe them- to kick off the opening festivities. In addition to the gymnasts you see here, there was also a juggler, unicyclist, fiddler, and an opera singer...


...not to mention a couple of very scary clowns. The other one played a mandolin, but I didn't get any photos of him.


Katie spotted this cute baby, not an uncommon sight here in Korea. Moms typically carry them around in papooses like the one pictured.


In honor of the birth of our nation, we went to the Outback Steakhouse. I am not unaware of the fact that we were eating Australian beef in an Australian-themed steakhouse. However, Outback is an American company (based in Tampa, FL, according to Wikipedia), and what could be more American than eating a chunk of beef? We each got the fillet and it was amazingly delicious, almost exactly like back home. Plus, there was... I can scarce type the words... sour cream on our baked potatoes. Heavenly.


Remember, I said these photos were random. In order to cross many larger streets in Korean cities, you have to take underground walking tunnels like the one you see me descending into. They are typically cool and dank, and Katie has been a little frightened of them ever since we spotted an enormous spider residing in one.


In the U.S., tunnels such as this would be perilous places, inevitable magnets for rapists and muggers. Or, they would at least provide irresistible shelter to dozens of homeless men. But in Korea there is nothing to fear, no matter the hour, except spiders, of course. The tunnels are actually very convenient since it can take a long time to cross an intersection using crosswalks.

My Country 'Tis of Thee...

On Saturday we accompanied Henry, Nancy, Tom, Jackie, and Evan to the fabled Costco in Daegu. Daegu is the fourth largest city in South Korea, and it took us about an hour and-a-half to get there by bus. When we arrived at Costco, we immediately realized that, much like the U.S. consulate in Seoul, Costco is actually sovereign U.S. soil. The following photos should serve to illustrate my point.


Just like Costcos back home, this one had a concession area where you could buy hot dogs, pizza and ice cream. We ordered two pizzas which, as you can see, were quite large.



The building was almost exactly like any normal Costco in the States, except that there were two floors. Otherwise, the place was standard: a warehouse with pallets of over-sized bottles of condiments.


Giant containers of Cheese Balls. Like I said, sovereign U.S. soil.


I had actually never heard of "Rocky Mountain Marshmallows" before, but they're made in the U.S.A. (Okay, they're made in Illinois, but they still reminded me of Colorado).



Spotting a 2 lb. block of Kirkland Cheddar cheese simultaneously, Tom and I engaged in some initial disagreement about who should procure it. Shortly thereafter, we noticed a freezer case full of blocks. The unpleasantness was soon forgotten...




So, not everything was "American", strictly speaking. Yoshida's BBQ sauce is from Japan. "Howdy, gangstas! I'm average American cowboy!"


I also noticed this. As you'd expect, the meat department at the Daegu Costco is quite large, and contains a lot of beef. Read my previous post, and you'll understand the significance of an American wholesale chain selling "safe and clean" Australian beef.


As we made our way back to the bus station to head back to Changwon, I saw this group of old guys hanging out. I had to take a picture because they look like nearly every old guy I've seen in South Korea. I like their hats. The one with the sunglasses is wearing a white linen suit, traditional Korean summer attire.

Mad Cow Madness

I think it's finally time to say something about the mad cow disease madness here in South Korea. Ever since we arrived we've heard tidbits about it here and there, and I think I've finally figured it all out.

In 2003 South Korea banned all U.S. beef imports due to panic that followed one report of mad cow disease in the United States. South Korea had previously been the third largest international market for American beef exports.

But several months ago, Korea elected a new president, Lee Myung Bak. Lee worked out a deal with President Bush that would allow limited U.S. beef imports into Korea (only boneless beef from cattle not more than 30 months old). This deal sparked mass hysteria amongst Koreans, who began protesting all over the country. President Lee was forced to reshuffle his cabinet in an attempt to quell the rising anger against his administration.

Mad cow disease affects cattle that have been fed the remains of other cattle. The United States banned this practice in 1997. In the history of the mad cow epidemic, only three Americans have died from the disease believed to be linked to mad cow. Nevertheless, in September the U.S. agreed to allow South Korean officials to inspect American beef processing facilities. Beef exports resumed only after they gave their consent.

Several weeks ago, Katie and I were surprised to encounter a parade blocking a large main street near our apartment building. It turned out to be a U.S. beef protest. Soon all my kids were talking about it (often calling it "crazy cow", and laughing since they are all convinced that "crazy" is a bad word). Since Katie and I saw the protest here in Changwon, massive protests have occurred in Seoul, some turning violent.


A couple of my middle school students attended the above protest in Seoul. They explained to me that Lee Myung Bak is a terrible president, and that they don't want American beef. These same same students have no opinion whatsoever regarding the impoverished condition of North Korea, or the plight of North Koreans who escape into China. I don't blame the students, of course, but I think this serves to shed light on what is important to their parents.

Allow me to offer a little first-hand perspective regarding the issue. If you go to the store in Korea, with the intention of buying ground beef, you have basically two options: Korean beef and Australian beef. The Korean beef is obscenely expensive, perhaps $16/lb. No, I'm not joking. The Australian beef is more reasonably priced, though still expensive by U.S. standards. It is clear that the resumption of U.S. beef imports would drive down the cost of beef in Korea.


This is a photo of a protest involving an estimated 50,000 people, staged several days ago in Seoul. Several likely factors immediately come to mind regarding why Koreans aren't hip to the prospect of importing U.S. beef. First, they may not want to impede Korean beef sales. Korean beef is widely referred to as "pure", though the rumor among the foreign community is that it is not inspected. I have found many Koreans to be staunch cultural elitists. I was recently asked to proof-read an essay written by a 10-year-old. In his essay he stated that he wants to grow up to be a diplomat so that he can "show the superiority of Korean culture to other countries." I asked him if he really wanted to be a diplomat, and he confessed that his father made him write that part.

Second, Koreans eat relatively little beef, particularly when compared to the inordinate amount of pork they consume. Koreans are fond of boasting about their healthy diet and long life-expectancy. However, Korea (with an average life expectancy of 77.4 years) has now fallen behind the United States (currently at 78.1 years), not to mention a number of other Western countries -Canada, Australia, and England included.

And finally, many may simply find the excitement of getting caught up in the hysteria simply irresistible. Hysteria is something Koreans have developed into an art form. Take, for example, "fan death". According every Korean I have met, sleeping with a fan on in the same room is tantamount to sleeping next to an open gas spigot. Fan deaths are reported in the media each summer, and the validity of the phenomenon is acknowledged by the Korean government. However, Korea is the only country on earth where fan death occurs. Not one shred of scientific evidence exists in support of the concept. Wives-tales such as this abound in Korea, and the verdicts of science do not appear to dissuade anyone from believing them.


This last photo is of protesters in Seoul being gassed by the riot police. Hopefully this has served to provide a little insight into the mad wow controversy here in Korea. I'm not sure to what extent it has been covered in the U.S., but it has been big news for the past couple of months here.

Work Dinner

A few nights ago my school hosted a work dinner for the entire staff. After work we all went to a "meat buffet" (I know. It sounds appetizing, doesn't it?). The restaurant was actually very nice, and the concept was pretty cool, too. You grab a plate and then select whatever you want from a wide range of thinly-sliced raw meats. Then you proceed back to your table where you cook the meat yourself, as you would at a Korean BBQ restaurant. Left to right above: Eric, Henry, Nancy.


Large, whole prawns were also available, and of course Henry couldn't resist. He did something, however, that I have never seen a human being do, and must admit that I was not aware that a human being was capable of doing until I witnessed him do it. He ate an entire prawn -well, except the head with it's abundantly long antennae- shell, legs, tail and all. He said that when you eat the whole thing, it has a different flavor...


On the far right of this photo are Kyle and Robin, the Canadian head instructors at my school. The others are Korean staff members who I only know by their "English" names: Anderson, Kevin, Skippa, Steve.


These are some of the other foreign teachers I work with. From left to right: Mary Ann (Canada), Stephen (South Africa), Teri Ann (Canada) and Casey (U.S.A.).


Here is the director of my school, "Conan" (again, an assumed English name), along with another foreign teacher, Vanessa (England) and several other Korean staff members.


At the end of the night, I was disappointed to discover that Katie and I had failed to take any pictures of each other. So I thought I'd post at least one picture of Katie, in this case triumphantly brandishing an ice cream cone. The photo was taken at dinner one night after we visited the Jinju orphanage.