But can I just note that I have been very busy.
Number 1.) Knitting.
Number 2.) Cooking some stuff.
Number 3.) Failing at all baking endeavors.
Number 4.) Knitting more things I want to have.
Number 5.) Organizing the kitchen, living room and bedroom intermittently.
Number 6.) Cleaning out and setting up the spare room to become a makeshift pantry. (All right, I haven't exactly done this yet, but soon I will be very busy doing it, so it is my excuse for next time.)
See how busy I have been?
Answer: So very.
Yes, you are right.
Things I have knit:
1. a pair of slipper clogs for The Benjamin.
2. a pair of socks for me.
3. ...half of another pair of socks. also for me.
4. still MORE on my red, cabled cowl scarf and no, it is not done yet, believe me, I will be the first to tell you when that bane of my very existence is finally DONE.
5. half a pair of one slipper clog for me. I got bored. yes, yes, I got bored. probably because, for this pair, I didn't have a husband waiting for slippers.
6. a red and blue elephant.
7. a red and blue octopus.
8. a happy little fox.
9: three weird looking balls.
10. a felted handle for a basket/makeshift drawer that contains kitchen utensils and lives under a riser on the kitchen table/makeshift counter top.
11. a little felted bag with a button hole that hangs on a hook near the sink and is filled with every rubber band in existence. It's a cute bag and I needed those rubber bands off my counter. I'd normally put them in a drawer, but Koreans don't like drawers, and we only have two, both housed in our wardrobe. So, there is a ledge along the back of the kitchen sink, under the window, and I kept them there in a little box. But they kept collecting odd food particles as well as always getting tangled up in the green robot man that I found under the fridge a few months ago who managed to make his way into the rubber band box. Anyway, it was just TOO much. So, I knit a wall-bag (and I coined the term "wall-bag"). Mostly in public, while out and about. Korean women always think I'm knitting hats. Always. They point at my hands and they hit their heads saying all kinds of things in Korean and then, in Korean, I say "No, no." (since that is just about the extent of my second language skills) and then I say, "Bag. Is bag." (like if I speak in broken English they'll be better able to understand) and I make the motion that seems to be Korean speak for "shopping bag", which means moving my hands from a cupping gesture, outward and up to sort of outline the bottom of a bag. Then they look at me like I've just lost my mind because who makes shopping bags that small and.. then they give me a nod and pat their head one more time, saying the word for "hat". Just making sure I'm really looney. And I smile and they leave and anyway, now it's done. So, they don't think I'm crazy for making tiny shopping bags, just for wearing birkenstocks in the winter and for leaving the house in a very light drizzle without an umbrella.
13. a calorimetry. it turned out waaay big, but I wear it anyway.
14. I just-just finished my first pair of endpaper mitts yesterday. it may possibly be true that I have been lusting after them in an unnaturally disturbing sort of way. possibly. but, now they are finished.
I think those are pretty much all my recent projects. I am now working on a second pair of endpaper mitts (they were the funnest thing I've made in a long time), the half-done sock and NOT the bane of my existence. Oh, and also my 1/4 finished clogs, which are cute colors. red-orange and pale turquoise.
It is late now and the light is bad, so I do not have pictures for you, but I am planning on taking some of, you know, things.
We didn't cook much in December. It was busy and crazy and we just ended up eating out a lot. To the complete detriment of our health. But, through many fits of digestive illness, we have again begun to cook at home. This time, I've been paying a lot more attention to our healthier American food options like whole wheat spaghetti and fresh frozen green beans instead of canned, etc... Eating American in Korea can be difficult (although I'd venture to say we're quite adept at this point), but eating healthy American is even more difficult. However, there is a lot of brown rice, some frozen alternatives to canned vegetables, yummy yogurts (waaay too many yogurts), soy products, awesome tofu and the best produce and eggs anywhere. Now I just need to figure out which greens are what so we can make salads. None of them make sense to me and all of them look like the weeds you pull out of your garden. Some of them taste like them, too, and that is gross.
Today, we found some good frozen vegetables at Costco. This is nice only because the combination includes broccoli and cauliflower, two vegetables we either can't find or refuse to eat (cauliflower = nowhere to be found, broccoli = tastes like the smell of new tires mixed with moldy navel oranges). We eat lots of zucchini and I think I may have found beets the other day which could be interesting. I've been craving a chocolate beet cake.
Anyway. I have to go... you know, do something. Like I usually do.
- catie
Showing posts with label The House. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The House. Show all posts
Friday, February 19, 2010
Friday, October 9, 2009
Catie: The Korean Bathroom
[caption id="attachment_112" align="aligncenter" width="369" caption="no bathtub, no shower stall"]
[/caption]
There are "western" bathrooms in Korea in the more upscale apartments, probably more common in Seoul, and bigger cities with more westerners. For the most part, though, there are bathrooms like ours (though ours is pretty big comparitively).
The main difference between the two is the lack of bathtub or shower stall. In the picture below, you can see the little cradle thing that we're able to hook the shower head into on the wall. However, our shower head (as well as all those we've seen so far), tends to shoot straight out at the mirror, instead of down... So, we just keep it off the wall. The whole bathroom is usually tiled, as it's assumed it will get wet, and there's a drain in the middle of the floor (ours is hidden by our pallets).
Our bathroom is big enough that we were able to put a shower curtain up to cordon off the toilet and medicine cabinet. That's also really nice because then we can hang our towels behind the curtain, too, instead of outside the bathroom, and they stay dry. Plus, our shower curtain reads, "heart full time when i see you it calms my heart you are my most precious treasure," just like that. And then, "have a nice time". We got the shower curtain, because in the picture at the store, the shower curtain said, "have a nice tim," and we thought it was funny. But I guess they got a spell check between printing the label and the last batch of curtains. Either way, I think it's funny.
[caption id="attachment_113" align="alignright" width="225" caption="I should have hung the shower head for the picture, but I wasn't thinking. Can you sort of see it?"]
[/caption]
On the floor, we have those pallet-looking things to keep people from having to step on the floor. Since you take your shoes off when you come into a Korean home (it's just a good idea after seeing the streets -- and what's done in the streets), you wear slippers around the house -- clean slippers. And you don't want to get them gross. So, you can have pallets, like we do, or shower shoes like those pink ones (so cute!). Most shower shoes are made with holes in their soles so they don't fill with water. Mine cost 2,000 won, which is less than $2.00. Rock on. But since we got pallets, they're my veranda shoes. I just put them in the picture because they're so cute.
The pallets are also nice if you have a slightly slow drain (like ours is sometimes) and water pools around it -- gross! The pallets lift you up off the ground so you're not in the grossness.
Moving on.
Because the whole bathroom is the shower, they've had to be creative about how they store things in the bathroom. The medicine cabinet is plastic, so it's immune. There's generally no wood in bathrooms (apart from pallets which can be picked up, cleaned, and eventually easily replaced) for the obvious reason that wood holds mold, bacteria, etc.. You can't really tell, but our toilet paper holder is plastic, too, and has a flap that moves up and down to keep the water off.
Another thing I think is cool, is that they have all these hooks and things for the bathroom, like our towel hook, that are all stuck to the wall with suction cups. Some come with hard, plastic, industrial strength stickers that you put on the wall where you want to suction the hook, and then you press the cup to the sticker and then twist a little knob which sucks the cup out a little and creates a seriously strong suction. It's kind of hard to explain, it took me a little while to even figure out what I was supposed to do. But, once one the hooks is on the wall, it's really on there until you unscrew it.
Also, there's no bathtub ledge or built in little shelves anywhere, so you get these little shelves that suction to the wall, too. We have one, but it's not in the pictures.
We don't have a bathroom fan because our apartment is older, so we keep the tiny window open to help dry things out and vent steam. Hopefully that will still work in cold weather.
And I think the only other thing is that there's a threshold about 4-5 inches high at the door to keep the water in. Probably in case your drain is blocked, or if you have a sick one like we do.
That, my friends, is a Korean bathroom. And, let me tell you, it may seem annoying, but once you get used to it, it's kind of awesome. There's so little bathroom cleaning to do (not that it would make any difference in our creepy bathroom!), you just spray things down with the shower head and it all drains.
Seriously. Awesome.
Soon, I will run out of rooms in the house and then you will be free of my explaining posts. Regarding the house anyway.
- catie
[/caption]There are "western" bathrooms in Korea in the more upscale apartments, probably more common in Seoul, and bigger cities with more westerners. For the most part, though, there are bathrooms like ours (though ours is pretty big comparitively).
The main difference between the two is the lack of bathtub or shower stall. In the picture below, you can see the little cradle thing that we're able to hook the shower head into on the wall. However, our shower head (as well as all those we've seen so far), tends to shoot straight out at the mirror, instead of down... So, we just keep it off the wall. The whole bathroom is usually tiled, as it's assumed it will get wet, and there's a drain in the middle of the floor (ours is hidden by our pallets).
Our bathroom is big enough that we were able to put a shower curtain up to cordon off the toilet and medicine cabinet. That's also really nice because then we can hang our towels behind the curtain, too, instead of outside the bathroom, and they stay dry. Plus, our shower curtain reads, "heart full time when i see you it calms my heart you are my most precious treasure," just like that. And then, "have a nice time". We got the shower curtain, because in the picture at the store, the shower curtain said, "have a nice tim," and we thought it was funny. But I guess they got a spell check between printing the label and the last batch of curtains. Either way, I think it's funny.
[caption id="attachment_113" align="alignright" width="225" caption="I should have hung the shower head for the picture, but I wasn't thinking. Can you sort of see it?"]
[/caption]On the floor, we have those pallet-looking things to keep people from having to step on the floor. Since you take your shoes off when you come into a Korean home (it's just a good idea after seeing the streets -- and what's done in the streets), you wear slippers around the house -- clean slippers. And you don't want to get them gross. So, you can have pallets, like we do, or shower shoes like those pink ones (so cute!). Most shower shoes are made with holes in their soles so they don't fill with water. Mine cost 2,000 won, which is less than $2.00. Rock on. But since we got pallets, they're my veranda shoes. I just put them in the picture because they're so cute.
The pallets are also nice if you have a slightly slow drain (like ours is sometimes) and water pools around it -- gross! The pallets lift you up off the ground so you're not in the grossness.
Moving on.
Because the whole bathroom is the shower, they've had to be creative about how they store things in the bathroom. The medicine cabinet is plastic, so it's immune. There's generally no wood in bathrooms (apart from pallets which can be picked up, cleaned, and eventually easily replaced) for the obvious reason that wood holds mold, bacteria, etc.. You can't really tell, but our toilet paper holder is plastic, too, and has a flap that moves up and down to keep the water off.
Another thing I think is cool, is that they have all these hooks and things for the bathroom, like our towel hook, that are all stuck to the wall with suction cups. Some come with hard, plastic, industrial strength stickers that you put on the wall where you want to suction the hook, and then you press the cup to the sticker and then twist a little knob which sucks the cup out a little and creates a seriously strong suction. It's kind of hard to explain, it took me a little while to even figure out what I was supposed to do. But, once one the hooks is on the wall, it's really on there until you unscrew it.
Also, there's no bathtub ledge or built in little shelves anywhere, so you get these little shelves that suction to the wall, too. We have one, but it's not in the pictures.
We don't have a bathroom fan because our apartment is older, so we keep the tiny window open to help dry things out and vent steam. Hopefully that will still work in cold weather.
And I think the only other thing is that there's a threshold about 4-5 inches high at the door to keep the water in. Probably in case your drain is blocked, or if you have a sick one like we do.
That, my friends, is a Korean bathroom. And, let me tell you, it may seem annoying, but once you get used to it, it's kind of awesome. There's so little bathroom cleaning to do (not that it would make any difference in our creepy bathroom!), you just spray things down with the shower head and it all drains.
Seriously. Awesome.
Soon, I will run out of rooms in the house and then you will be free of my explaining posts. Regarding the house anyway.
- catie
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Catie: Why you should heart your American washer.
Did we tell you this heap of junk finally works? Because it does and we are so glad.
[caption id="attachment_48" align="aligncenter" width="224" caption="the heap of junk"]
[/caption]
[caption id="attachment_49" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="translated panel"]
[/caption]
And now, a lesson in washing clothes, the Korean way:
This is the panel (and the problem) that we had to work with. However, with the help of many web searches (eatyourkimchi.com -- that site has been our lifesaver) we were able to translate the important words.
Our friends, Brian and Aaron (they work with Ben) told us what to do with the buttons and it turns out if we just stay completely away from the left side of the panel, it's super easy.
This winged creature...
[caption id="attachment_50" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="the winged creature"]
[/caption]
....is our drying rack.
That's our veranda, too. You can see the floor to ceiling windows behind the rack that open to circulate air. A lot of people bring their racks up to their roof and dry them there. But since we arrived, the air's gotten a lot dryer, so our clothes have been getting dry a lot faster.
Another funny thing is that the washing machines here don't have the middle piece that agitates...
[caption id="attachment_59" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="no agitator?"]
[/caption]
...so we have to bag all our clothes in these giant lingerie bags so they won't mash up. The lack of an agitator has been known to tangle my long sleeved shirts into looooong sleeved shirts when bags spontatneously open mid-cycle (they have these little elastic stoppers to keep them from opening, but we're going to have to start safety pinning them because the elastic's either not working, or we don't know how it's supposed to work).
Now we just have to tackle the problem of the tripped electrical breaker.
It keeps popping whenever we have the washer going with anything else plugged in, stopping our wash cycle every 10 minutes so that it keeps starting over and over and washes our clothes to a linty pulp.
I think we've fixed it by making sure everything's unplugged before we wash though. It hasn't done it in a while. And we should be moving soon anyway, to a newer place, so hopefully that won't be such a problem then.
And that's your lesson on The Korean Washing Machine. Probably boring, sorry... I'm just so excited it's working now!
-catie
[caption id="attachment_48" align="aligncenter" width="224" caption="the heap of junk"]
[/caption][caption id="attachment_49" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="translated panel"]
[/caption]And now, a lesson in washing clothes, the Korean way:
This is the panel (and the problem) that we had to work with. However, with the help of many web searches (eatyourkimchi.com -- that site has been our lifesaver) we were able to translate the important words.
Our friends, Brian and Aaron (they work with Ben) told us what to do with the buttons and it turns out if we just stay completely away from the left side of the panel, it's super easy.
This winged creature...
[caption id="attachment_50" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="the winged creature"]
[/caption]....is our drying rack.
That's our veranda, too. You can see the floor to ceiling windows behind the rack that open to circulate air. A lot of people bring their racks up to their roof and dry them there. But since we arrived, the air's gotten a lot dryer, so our clothes have been getting dry a lot faster.
Another funny thing is that the washing machines here don't have the middle piece that agitates...
[caption id="attachment_59" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="no agitator?"]
[/caption]...so we have to bag all our clothes in these giant lingerie bags so they won't mash up. The lack of an agitator has been known to tangle my long sleeved shirts into looooong sleeved shirts when bags spontatneously open mid-cycle (they have these little elastic stoppers to keep them from opening, but we're going to have to start safety pinning them because the elastic's either not working, or we don't know how it's supposed to work).
Now we just have to tackle the problem of the tripped electrical breaker.
It keeps popping whenever we have the washer going with anything else plugged in, stopping our wash cycle every 10 minutes so that it keeps starting over and over and washes our clothes to a linty pulp.
I think we've fixed it by making sure everything's unplugged before we wash though. It hasn't done it in a while. And we should be moving soon anyway, to a newer place, so hopefully that won't be such a problem then.
And that's your lesson on The Korean Washing Machine. Probably boring, sorry... I'm just so excited it's working now!
-catie
Friday, October 2, 2009
Catie: Who Sells the Cheesiest Cheeseburger?
Pictures, as promised.
This is a small por
tion of the open air market at the end of our block. On this side of the street, older women bring their vegetables to sell and spread them out in bowls and collanders on top of tarps and blankets and you can buy them (though only in large quantities, as I discovered) and on the other side of the street, there are two big, covered tunnels full of vendors selling raw meat, eggs, more vegetables, all kinds of things.
My favorite is the cooler full of skinny, plucked chickens!
It's really nice though and the produce is amazing. Before I knew it was buy-in-bulk only, we got The Best eggs and potatoes. Seriously, it was really good.
To the right is our stove, which I think is really cute (if inconveniently not located above an oven). And it's gas, which is awesome. It takes a little effort to light, but it's not hard. You just have to think differently here, since everything's not about convenience, it's more about function.
The stove was a wreck when we arrived, completely slathered in grease, which would have been okay. If this country sold anything close to a proper degreaser.
Oh, well, a lot of dishsoap later and most everything is clean.
[caption id="attachment_31" align="alignleft" width="239" caption="Yogurt? Cake?"]
[/caption]
And these little treasures are terrifying.
The drinks are about three inches tall and.. we aren't sure if they were made of rice or not. The little cake is undoubtedly made of rice. We got it on Wednesday, I think, so it may have been a mung bean cake for Cheusok, which was yesterday.
Cheusok is Korean Thanksgiving, a harvest celebration where everyone goes to their grandparents' house and eats traditional Korean food.
All that meant for us was that only the Lotteria was open for food.
The Lotteria is a block and a half from our house and, when we found it the other day, we were really excited because they have (what appear to be) cheeseburgers. And... I guess you couldn't say that they weren't cheeseburgers because weren't exactly not.. cheeseburgers.
Side note: When you've experienced asian culture for a period of time greater than a couple of weeks or so, you come to find that things, food especially, are not what they appear. So, it is best to alter your expectations accordingly.
We are poor right now, so we picked one of the cheaper things on the menu, what looked like a simple cheeseburger. It said, "cheeseburger", right next to it, leading us to believe....
This is what it was:
A hamburger bun with nacho cheese, a heavily salted, ground pork patty, a slice of american cheese, dark green pickles, lettuce and ketchup.
So, really... I mean, technically, it was a cheeseburger. After all, they went quite well out of their way to make it very.. cheesy... but I don't think I have to tell you that the combination of nacho cheese, ground pork and ketchup was not a good one.
Even still, we already knew going in that it would probably be a pretty hilarious experience. And it was. And now, when we want a cheeseburger, we will look for a McDonalds.
Though Lotteria did have good fries. And decent ketchup, not too sweet.
In parting, this is my newest project. A pair of Noro Stripey Socks:
That's just the beginning, I have the first sock done now and am almost done with the second. They've been fast and it's already starting to get cold at night, so I've been wearing my other pair of wool socks nonstop. It'll be nice to have a switch-out pair.
This is a small por
tion of the open air market at the end of our block. On this side of the street, older women bring their vegetables to sell and spread them out in bowls and collanders on top of tarps and blankets and you can buy them (though only in large quantities, as I discovered) and on the other side of the street, there are two big, covered tunnels full of vendors selling raw meat, eggs, more vegetables, all kinds of things.My favorite is the cooler full of skinny, plucked chickens!
It's really nice though and the produce is amazing. Before I knew it was buy-in-bulk only, we got The Best eggs and potatoes. Seriously, it was really good.
To the right is our stove, which I think is really cute (if inconveniently not located above an oven). And it's gas, which is awesome. It takes a little effort to light, but it's not hard. You just have to think differently here, since everything's not about convenience, it's more about function.The stove was a wreck when we arrived, completely slathered in grease, which would have been okay. If this country sold anything close to a proper degreaser.
Oh, well, a lot of dishsoap later and most everything is clean.
[caption id="attachment_31" align="alignleft" width="239" caption="Yogurt? Cake?"]
[/caption]And these little treasures are terrifying.
The drinks are about three inches tall and.. we aren't sure if they were made of rice or not. The little cake is undoubtedly made of rice. We got it on Wednesday, I think, so it may have been a mung bean cake for Cheusok, which was yesterday.
Cheusok is Korean Thanksgiving, a harvest celebration where everyone goes to their grandparents' house and eats traditional Korean food.
All that meant for us was that only the Lotteria was open for food.
The Lotteria is a block and a half from our house and, when we found it the other day, we were really excited because they have (what appear to be) cheeseburgers. And... I guess you couldn't say that they weren't cheeseburgers because weren't exactly not.. cheeseburgers.
Side note: When you've experienced asian culture for a period of time greater than a couple of weeks or so, you come to find that things, food especially, are not what they appear. So, it is best to alter your expectations accordingly.
We are poor right now, so we picked one of the cheaper things on the menu, what looked like a simple cheeseburger. It said, "cheeseburger", right next to it, leading us to believe....
This is what it was:
A hamburger bun with nacho cheese, a heavily salted, ground pork patty, a slice of american cheese, dark green pickles, lettuce and ketchup.
So, really... I mean, technically, it was a cheeseburger. After all, they went quite well out of their way to make it very.. cheesy... but I don't think I have to tell you that the combination of nacho cheese, ground pork and ketchup was not a good one.
Even still, we already knew going in that it would probably be a pretty hilarious experience. And it was. And now, when we want a cheeseburger, we will look for a McDonalds.
Though Lotteria did have good fries. And decent ketchup, not too sweet.
In parting, this is my newest project. A pair of Noro Stripey Socks:
That's just the beginning, I have the first sock done now and am almost done with the second. They've been fast and it's already starting to get cold at night, so I've been wearing my other pair of wool socks nonstop. It'll be nice to have a switch-out pair.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Ben: Our Chaotic Washing Machine
One of the interesting things about living in a foreign country, is that all the little things that are so mindless back home, suddenly become incredibly difficult when you are trying to do them through a language barrier. For example, washing clothes. You wouldn't think that washing clothes would be all that difficult. After all you just chuck the clothes in, make sure your water isn't too hot or too cold and come back in an hour for some nice smelling garments. Unless of course your washing machine's button panel happens to look like thisAs a result Catie and I have been losing our minds (and our always even tempers) trying to puzzle out how to get the thing to simply wash a load of clothes. We finally decided to take a break and go eat some meat on a stick (more on that latter), but before we did I managed to find this bit of information about our washing machine (a Goldstar Chaos machine).
Goldstar Co. created a "chaotic washing machine" in 1993. It was the world's first consumer product to exploit "chaos theory", which holds that there are identifiable and predictable movements in nonlinear systems. This washing machine is supposed to produce cleaner and less tangled clothes. The key to the chaotic motion is a small pulsator (which stirs the water) that rises and falls randomly as the main pulsator rotates.
That's right, not only is our machine label in Korean, but it is also the worlds first (and probably only) washing machine built upon the principle of the “chaos theory.” I personally believe that they also decided to apply the chaos theory to their button labeling scheme. Which would explain why everytime you push a button instead of a “identifiable and predictable response” the machine instead responds chaotically and randomly (all math fiends, please now feel free to tell me how very poor my understanding is of chaos theory).
- ben
Catie: The Mirror of SHAME.
We finally took the trash out last night. We are unsure as to whether or not we did it properly, but we did it! Hopefully we do not get arrested.
Trash here is very tricky because nobody follows the rules, so everybody has been grounded. Us, too, even though we weren't here when the initial rule breaking happened. Totally unfair.
You have four trash categories:
- Biological
- Metal
- Paper
- Plastic
And then furniture, but... that doesn't really count since it doesn't fit in a trash bag.
Everyone was supposed to separate their trash into these groups and then place their trash bags into the respective cans, which were located on every street. But, no one liked to do it.
And, for a long time, no one did, which is never a good idea in Korea.
So, the government took action, putting, "The Mirror of Shame" up behind each trash can. Naturally, this was designed to cause each person who broke the trash separation rule to feel such shame that they would want to take apart their trash right there on the curb and separate it.
But, mostly, it just gave each person an opportunity to groom themselves.
This, of course, did not delight the government (it delights me, I think it's awesome).
So, we all got grounded and they took away ALL trash cans from the street -- indefinitely.
Making rules about trash very hazey.
But, I think we've finally got it down.
Trash days are Wednesday and Friday and we can just leave stuff on the street if we sneak it down when no one is looking. I don't yet understand the sneaking, but I don't dare not sneak for fear of getting caught. I don't know why I'm afraid of getting caught if this is just the way it's done, but I, for one, don't like to mess around with the Korean government, especially not on such an apparently sore subject.
In other news, the apartment is becoming much cleaner.
When I got here, the wood slat patterned linoleum (it's quite a convincing pattern) was covered -- covered -- in slime and stick and crumbs and dirt (and cockroaches). And this was after Ben had swept and mopped it! The cabinets had sticky, yellow grease splatters on their fronts and sides and hard, green mold on their handles. The fridge looked like a hairy tomato had climbed inside for a shave and then exploded (weird, but surprisingly true...). There were cockroaches (though since we put out hotels, we're just finding them dead on their backs) and the bathroom smelled like the sourest of sour bath towels mixed with... I don't know... rotting flesh?
It was delicious.
Since then, I have sparkled the kitchen (two days worth of work) and we revamped the bathroom by pouring nearly a full bottle of bleach down the drain. I spent ALL day -- from 2pm when Ben went to work until 9pm -- scrubbing and spraying bleach and wiping down.
Now the kitchen is mostly clean and the main room's floors are done, plus our shoe room is clean and the bathroom is liveable -- though we are having to pour bleach down the drain daily right now, as well as spraying the walls with bleach after every shower.
You still can't walk barefoot inside your own house, but that's just the way it is. Nobody can. That's why we all have built in shoe rooms.
All your shoes live in this little entry way between the front door and front front door and everybody has a pair of slippers that are kept there, too. On your way in, you take off your shoes, put them in this little closet there in the shoe room, and then put on your house slippers, and on your way out, you do the opposite.
When I first got here, I thought that was just paranoia, but now I know better. The streets outside are sick. It's common practice to use them as a bathroom (there just aren't many public ones), people spit in them; the gutters are a bad, bad place. And all that gets tracked inside on our shoes.
It is for this reason that most of the restaurants and even some shops are raised up higher than their entryways. You slip your shoes off in the entryway, and then step up into the shop in your sock feet.
I like it.
We also have veranda shoes and shower shoes. The shower shoes are just because no one wants to step on their own bathroom floor (I certainly don't want to step on mine). And the veranda shoes...
Well, everybody has either a veranda or an outside portion of their house. We have a veranda. I like the word, "veranda". I think it sounds nice, and a little affluent, or at least upscale. But our veranda is not nice, like you might think.
It is where keep our washing machine.
In America, you put your clothes in the washing machine and then you hit some buttons and you walk away, coming back 45 minutes later or so to find spun clothes, ready for the dryer.
In Korea, you have choices to make.
First you have to decide whether you want hot water or cold water. If you want hot water, you need to switch the hose to the other spicket and screw it on. For this reason, we have decided never to want hot water.
Then you need to turn the spicket on, which is a trip because it sprays you in the face. So, before you turn it on, you need to make sure there are no clothes hanging on the clothesline that will be sprayed, and then you need to lift the washing machine lid and balance it -- just so -- so that you don't get sprayed in the face.
Then you have to wait until the washing machine fills because you have to turn the water off or the machine will overflow.
THEN... you have to start hitting buttons. God only knows which one is right because we can't read Korea, but it seems like hitting this one button on the far left hand side works. You just have to hit it a lot, leaving enough space between each poke to make sure that the machine's not going start, because there's nothing more frustrating than getting the machine to start and then, because you're on autopilot, hitting the button again and stopping the machine so that you have to hit it a million times all over again.
Then.......... you have to be careful not to slip when you walk out onto the veranda for the rest of the day so that you don't slip because the water from the washer drains through a tube onto the tiled floor and then through a drain in the center.
That's why the veranda shoes. Because nobody wants dirty washing machine water anywhere in their house, but if you have to have it on the veranda, you sure as heck want to keep it quarantined there.
Also, the verandas all have giant, screened windows from floor to ceiling so that you can open them to get air circulating and dry your clothes faster (it doesn't do much -- still takes half a year for stuff to dry), but what it mostly does is allow dirt, dust and pollution into the house to mix with the dirty, floor water.
But.. I'm actually having quite a bit of fun. I like the difference and there's something about having to work to make things happen. Washing clothes is a huge ordeal, but all that means is that you feel really accomplished once it's finally done and you watch to keep your clothes clean for longer because you have to wash them a day or two in advance of wearing them to allow for drying time.
Anyhow, I walked down to Family Mart for some coffee and breakfast cookies before I started typing, and I really want to ice the coffee and eat breakfast, so...
I'll post pictures next time. We have a few of the market and other stuff.
- catie
Trash here is very tricky because nobody follows the rules, so everybody has been grounded. Us, too, even though we weren't here when the initial rule breaking happened. Totally unfair.
You have four trash categories:
- Biological
- Metal
- Paper
- Plastic
And then furniture, but... that doesn't really count since it doesn't fit in a trash bag.
Everyone was supposed to separate their trash into these groups and then place their trash bags into the respective cans, which were located on every street. But, no one liked to do it.
And, for a long time, no one did, which is never a good idea in Korea.
So, the government took action, putting, "The Mirror of Shame" up behind each trash can. Naturally, this was designed to cause each person who broke the trash separation rule to feel such shame that they would want to take apart their trash right there on the curb and separate it.
But, mostly, it just gave each person an opportunity to groom themselves.
This, of course, did not delight the government (it delights me, I think it's awesome).
So, we all got grounded and they took away ALL trash cans from the street -- indefinitely.
Making rules about trash very hazey.
But, I think we've finally got it down.
Trash days are Wednesday and Friday and we can just leave stuff on the street if we sneak it down when no one is looking. I don't yet understand the sneaking, but I don't dare not sneak for fear of getting caught. I don't know why I'm afraid of getting caught if this is just the way it's done, but I, for one, don't like to mess around with the Korean government, especially not on such an apparently sore subject.
In other news, the apartment is becoming much cleaner.
When I got here, the wood slat patterned linoleum (it's quite a convincing pattern) was covered -- covered -- in slime and stick and crumbs and dirt (and cockroaches). And this was after Ben had swept and mopped it! The cabinets had sticky, yellow grease splatters on their fronts and sides and hard, green mold on their handles. The fridge looked like a hairy tomato had climbed inside for a shave and then exploded (weird, but surprisingly true...). There were cockroaches (though since we put out hotels, we're just finding them dead on their backs) and the bathroom smelled like the sourest of sour bath towels mixed with... I don't know... rotting flesh?
It was delicious.
Since then, I have sparkled the kitchen (two days worth of work) and we revamped the bathroom by pouring nearly a full bottle of bleach down the drain. I spent ALL day -- from 2pm when Ben went to work until 9pm -- scrubbing and spraying bleach and wiping down.
Now the kitchen is mostly clean and the main room's floors are done, plus our shoe room is clean and the bathroom is liveable -- though we are having to pour bleach down the drain daily right now, as well as spraying the walls with bleach after every shower.
You still can't walk barefoot inside your own house, but that's just the way it is. Nobody can. That's why we all have built in shoe rooms.
All your shoes live in this little entry way between the front door and front front door and everybody has a pair of slippers that are kept there, too. On your way in, you take off your shoes, put them in this little closet there in the shoe room, and then put on your house slippers, and on your way out, you do the opposite.
When I first got here, I thought that was just paranoia, but now I know better. The streets outside are sick. It's common practice to use them as a bathroom (there just aren't many public ones), people spit in them; the gutters are a bad, bad place. And all that gets tracked inside on our shoes.
It is for this reason that most of the restaurants and even some shops are raised up higher than their entryways. You slip your shoes off in the entryway, and then step up into the shop in your sock feet.
I like it.
We also have veranda shoes and shower shoes. The shower shoes are just because no one wants to step on their own bathroom floor (I certainly don't want to step on mine). And the veranda shoes...
Well, everybody has either a veranda or an outside portion of their house. We have a veranda. I like the word, "veranda". I think it sounds nice, and a little affluent, or at least upscale. But our veranda is not nice, like you might think.
It is where keep our washing machine.
In America, you put your clothes in the washing machine and then you hit some buttons and you walk away, coming back 45 minutes later or so to find spun clothes, ready for the dryer.
In Korea, you have choices to make.
First you have to decide whether you want hot water or cold water. If you want hot water, you need to switch the hose to the other spicket and screw it on. For this reason, we have decided never to want hot water.
Then you need to turn the spicket on, which is a trip because it sprays you in the face. So, before you turn it on, you need to make sure there are no clothes hanging on the clothesline that will be sprayed, and then you need to lift the washing machine lid and balance it -- just so -- so that you don't get sprayed in the face.
Then you have to wait until the washing machine fills because you have to turn the water off or the machine will overflow.
THEN... you have to start hitting buttons. God only knows which one is right because we can't read Korea, but it seems like hitting this one button on the far left hand side works. You just have to hit it a lot, leaving enough space between each poke to make sure that the machine's not going start, because there's nothing more frustrating than getting the machine to start and then, because you're on autopilot, hitting the button again and stopping the machine so that you have to hit it a million times all over again.
Then.......... you have to be careful not to slip when you walk out onto the veranda for the rest of the day so that you don't slip because the water from the washer drains through a tube onto the tiled floor and then through a drain in the center.
That's why the veranda shoes. Because nobody wants dirty washing machine water anywhere in their house, but if you have to have it on the veranda, you sure as heck want to keep it quarantined there.
Also, the verandas all have giant, screened windows from floor to ceiling so that you can open them to get air circulating and dry your clothes faster (it doesn't do much -- still takes half a year for stuff to dry), but what it mostly does is allow dirt, dust and pollution into the house to mix with the dirty, floor water.
But.. I'm actually having quite a bit of fun. I like the difference and there's something about having to work to make things happen. Washing clothes is a huge ordeal, but all that means is that you feel really accomplished once it's finally done and you watch to keep your clothes clean for longer because you have to wash them a day or two in advance of wearing them to allow for drying time.
Anyhow, I walked down to Family Mart for some coffee and breakfast cookies before I started typing, and I really want to ice the coffee and eat breakfast, so...
I'll post pictures next time. We have a few of the market and other stuff.
- catie
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