It's over it's over it's over it's over

This could be the penultimate post on this thing. Depends what I feel like.

Said goodbye to the kids yesterday. Nearly killed me.

Then there was a party, with beer, Jaegermeister, cigars and free champagne provided by the phenomenal staff at Metropolis bar. Nearly killed me.

Then, I was nearly killed. By a psychopathic cleaning lady. Here's what happened: I (used to) live on the third floor and not once did I get the lift up those two flights of stairs (I would talk at length about the elevatorial habits of people here but I'll keep it short (as I'm in parentheses). It's customary in Korea to use the lift to go up or even down a single floor regardless of age or physical prowess. Westerners too. These people are just lazy in my opinion.) Anyway, this afternoon I tried to ascend the stairs but my path was blocked by an ajuma, a cleaning wench. She was scrubbing a stair. I'd already reached the second floor and she was between me and my apartment. I made to climb over the step she was working on and she freaked out, just flipped. She threw her sponge at me and I almost fell. We exchanged angry mutually incomprended words for a bit until security came and I relented. I used the motherfucking elevator.

Not wanting to end on a downer, here's a video. This is the first time I've used windows movie maker, probably shows. Anyway, enjoy.

Vagina

I'm a fan of kimbaps, rice and stuff rolled up in a seaweed sheet: this has already been established. My favourite variety is tuna, or in Korean, 'chamchi'. Written down it looks like this: 참치. The Korean symbol for the phoneme 'ch', you can probably work out, is the one that resembles the pi symbol with a hat on. The Korean symbol for the sound 'j' is the same but without the hat, and obviously 'ch' and 'j' have a similar phonetical resonance.

Now. I talk to my kids about food all the time, so kimbaps are frequently discussed. And to my incomprehesion, a couple of times my response to the question 'what's your favourite kimbap?' has elicited giggling. What? Tuna? What's funny about tuna? Then one kid was kind enough to spell it out to me: the Korean slang word 'jamji' means... that's right, vagina. Yes, I've unwittingly confessed to eight year olds that I enjoy eating vaginas.

One class went sick on it. Really sick. I walked into class one day to find this on the board:

The on the second picture you can also see 'jjijji', translatable into English as 'boobies'. I think those are meant to be nipples.

I'll be home in ten days. Ooh.

Metropolis

A couple of months ago, we found the perfect bar. After months of searching, months of endless Hite and Cass on tap, months of enduring fireshows and dicks on both sides of the bar, months of bartenders unable to understand you due both to language barriers and painfully loud, awful music, months of vain attempts to watch live sport - essentially months of inadequate drinking, we discovered a gem. It's in Nowon - a five minute bike ride away - serves real beer, has darts, foosball, quiz machine, big screens, sensibly-volumed music (that patrons can request), live sport, toilets, everything.

When we made our first few trips there the owner was manning the fort by himself, and we were his main customers. He speaks perfect English, and we got ingratiated quickly, helped by the continuous flow of won we were thrusting at him. I like to think our business helped to keep him afloat in those first few weeks. Right now, as the place is thriving, I like to think we're putting his kids through college. As of today they're employing five guys and a part-time girl. In no small part down to us I'd conjecture.

Last month we watched the FA cup final there, for which I was a temporary Everton fan. Sean provided a Toffees shirt which I happily wore, over my Leeds shirt of course. It's OK so long as it doesn't touch my skin.

I plan to enjoy my good riddance to ECC party in there this Monday evening. Champagne'll be involved and the Alley Kats will flow like wine.

I'd like to add: I've been there this evening, so if you feel this blog is written particularly poorly, attribute it to that. It's fine though: unlike some craggy idiots I don't do this sort of thing on a school night - tomorrow I don't start until 2pm.

As it happens, eleven classes to go... that's it.

Saying goodbye

At time this job has been damn near untenable. The way the school is run coupled with some indescribably asinine co-workers has driven me on a daily basis to at least a slight deviation from the usual blithe equilibrium I maintain. At worst I've been moderately indignated. Hey, I don't get that angry. The kids, however, have made this year worth doing. Except when they punch me in the balls, then I do get pretty shouty. Some have a bigger place in my heart than others, but I'll miss them all.

Every day I teach a class of geniuses, genuine future world leaders. They're batshit crazy, but they're brilliant. This is a video of Sunny saying goodbye to me today.

Sweet, sweet, unobtainable western food

Korean food is good. I like a regular daeji galbi, kimbaps are healthy fastfood options, hell, I've even discovered that over the course of the year I've developed a taste for kimchi. Fifty weeks ago even the smell made me queasy; now, in moderation, I find it delicious. Oh yeah, and that's right: fifty weeks down. Two more to go.

But today I'm talking food. Sweet, sweet, unobtainable western food. There's a Kurt Vonnegut short story about three POWs working on clearing rubble in a bombed German city who discuss nothing but what they're going to eat as soon as they get home - they have notebooks filled with recipes and sketches and lists of their favourite meals. This is me in Korea. Here's my list, as I dream of the impending two months of gluttony.

1. Roast dinner. Meat unspecified, would favour beef joint.

2. Large, crusty, fresh baguette filled with bacon, real cheese and HP sauce.

3. A shepherds pie.

4. Lasagne/Spag bol.

5. A cassarole replete with big chunks of beef, carrots, potatoes, and suet dumplings.

6. Another roast dinner.

7. A real English curry. Indian food is gettable here but there's no subsitute for the real thing.

8. Nice, oily tuna, on fresh pasta, with feta cheese, coarse black pepper and lots of vinegar.

9. A ham and Branston's pickle sandwich.

10. My personal culinary pièce de résistance (the one thing I can cook that might actually impress people): hunks of chicken breast topped with goats' cheese and basil, wrapped in prosciutto ham and lightly browned in the oven. With CHIPS.

Take note, mother!!