Christmas in Korea

My Christmas in Korea was on the basic side. But that was okay.

In America, immediately after you carve the turkey in November, Christmas just absolutely attacks you. As far as the eye can see, there are holiday cards, lights on houses, poinsettas, gift wrapping, wreaths, chocolate and everything has somehow acquired a bow and a bell.

You cannot get away from Christmas. It places green and red finger tips on all market items, from candy bar wrappers to bags of flour to advertisements for having your tires changed.

Every single product, every single American comerical instituion dedicates good money and advertising to spring one message on the American public: You will have a Merry Christmas Whether You Want To Or Not And You Will Like It. And a Happy New Year.

The world at large develops a soundtrack, that of Christmases past, the sleghs, the bells, the chimneys and the mommy kissing Santa Claus and Santa babies and the onimoptent Santa who knows when you're sleeping, waking, engaging in masterbation. And then there are those startling remixes by the prominent current singers. Those are the worst.

In Korea, it's decidely quieter, thank god. I worked in retail last year and probably can never listen to that much Christmas music again without killing a lot of people. Most hagwons were open December 24. Both Geoff and I worked on Christmas eve, but later that evening we wound up at the apartment of a friend, a somewhat lordly lad named Ryan who is from England.

I hope I've not become old fashioned to the point where I call people characters and leave it at that. But Ryan is a character. He is pompus, proper and stuffy but excruciatingly funny. He is the kind of person who you'd notice is wearing a very nice shirt and you might say something, maybe along the lines of "Ryan, that's a very nice shirt." And he will look at you like you just observed the most obvious thing in the world and inform you drolly, "It's linen," as though this explains everything. And to a small extent, it does.

He speaks often of his two great loves: Hong Kong and Sinapore. He has lived and worked in both places. This man possesses the intellectual snobbery of Britian and the culture, refinement and elegance of the east. Picture a very well dressed man, probably in a linen shirt, saying in a very British accent, "Oh you must go to Hong Kong. You simply must." He says this so sort of matter of factly and bored with the world.

And if you ask him why he'll sort of raise one eyebrow at you, like the Alice and Wonderland Queen of Hearts who's about to have you beheaded for asking too many questions and all he'll ever answer in reply is, "It's fabulous." The man goes beyond not mincing words. He refuses to even mince sentiment. It's great.

Ryan also has really strange food prediciltions. He ran into Geoff at the market and insisted on helping him pick out a perfect wine to romance me with...even though Geoff had no such intention. He informed Geoff that, "From time to time, a person must treat themselves."

Once, at a party, I was eating a chicken drumstick. Ryan saw this and came over, just to inform me that "I find what you are doing right now to be one of the most barbaric acts found in civilized society." He told me that he won't eat chicken off the bone. It is too savage, he feels like a hyena gnawing on the remains of something slaughtered. He told me about being a child at parties in England and there being chicken drum sticks and all the kids eating them, "Except me. Even then I knew to turn my nose up at those children." He made an adult cut the meat off the bone, and he made them do it in the kitchen so he wouldn't have to see.

You'd think a person like this would be annoying but he's actually a wonderful host. I spent Christmas Eve at Ryan's house, drinking wine and he kept asking me if I needed more wine and when I was a little hungry he whipped up this vegetable soup that was just heavenly. I asked him what he put in it and he just said, "Oh, you know. A little veg."

On Christmas Day (my only day of Christmas vacation) we opened our only present, a big package from Geoff's mother in America with Christmas goodies including, thank Christ, a big bottle of Advil. It's a pain in the ass to get pain killers in this country and they are very very expensive.

Geoff and I watched "It's a wonderful life," which I'd never seen before and enjoyed. It was so quirky and nice. We made corn and potato soup, taking a que from Ryan, and had a french baguette with it. We also bought some dutch cheese which was painfully expensive, like ten dollars for a block, but really wonderful because I haven't had good cheese in months and months. That was Christmas.

Tonight is New Year's Eve (my mother calls January 31st Old and New). I get tomorrow and Friday off. Very exciting stuff.