When the octopus tentacle got traction on my tongue, I probably should have been more concerned. When the next sucker stuck to a tooth, though, I knew I better do something fast: I counterattacked by biting it, chewing it around and popping some very spicy kim chee in my mouth to stun it into submission as I swallowed it.
I had just landed in Seoul and naturally was trying to show I was unfazed at eating dinner that was still alive and trying to escape from me. (I decided it's not "food" until it at least stays where it is.) After all, I have eaten so much weird stuff in Japan, and I can be brave: I've given birth twice without anesthesia and compared to that, how bad could it be? (Note: People who rationalize "How bad could it be?" are generally tempting the Fates to show them how bad it can be ...)
But back to the inchworm behavior on my plate: Obviously I won that round. I'm writing 24 hours later and have not had scary things erupt from my stomach (as in the horrible scene from Aliens), so there's another reason to be grateful for digestive juices.
I am, however, exhausted with a capital X. The accumulation of four and a half weeks of travel and rolling through five countries in the last four days --- I forgot to say we also were in Bangladesh, but that is another story --- has gotten to me.
In Hong Kong, I was terribly tired of Chinese people bumping me, shoving past me, getting in my space or trying to hustle us. Carole and I were targets walking down the sidewalk for "Madam! Rolex copy?" or "Madam! Prada purse?" I actually put my hand up to a guy's face to keep him away from me. I thought about decking another man who said "Madam! Tailor-made suit? Make you beautiful!," but I just kept walking. I wonder if Chinese people don't consider bumping as rude because they live in a crowded country, but I hate to be touched by strangers. A girl on the plane actually held my elbow to pull me aside so her mother could pass.
I am in Seoul now and ready for home and my husband taking care of me after five weeks of travel. I feel like I can't even remember being home.
This is the first time I have been able to get to an Internet. I am at the Grand Hotel (which ain't bad) in Onyang (I think), Korea. The Rotarians booked it for me, and tomorrow I am going to the home of a past district governor whose daughter served as my interpreter at the airport last night. It is closing time for the Internet, so for now, Th-th-th-that's all, folks!
I had just landed in Seoul and naturally was trying to show I was unfazed at eating dinner that was still alive and trying to escape from me. (I decided it's not "food" until it at least stays where it is.) After all, I have eaten so much weird stuff in Japan, and I can be brave: I've given birth twice without anesthesia and compared to that, how bad could it be? (Note: People who rationalize "How bad could it be?" are generally tempting the Fates to show them how bad it can be ...)
But back to the inchworm behavior on my plate: Obviously I won that round. I'm writing 24 hours later and have not had scary things erupt from my stomach (as in the horrible scene from Aliens), so there's another reason to be grateful for digestive juices.
I am, however, exhausted with a capital X. The accumulation of four and a half weeks of travel and rolling through five countries in the last four days --- I forgot to say we also were in Bangladesh, but that is another story --- has gotten to me.
In Hong Kong, I was terribly tired of Chinese people bumping me, shoving past me, getting in my space or trying to hustle us. Carole and I were targets walking down the sidewalk for "Madam! Rolex copy?" or "Madam! Prada purse?" I actually put my hand up to a guy's face to keep him away from me. I thought about decking another man who said "Madam! Tailor-made suit? Make you beautiful!," but I just kept walking. I wonder if Chinese people don't consider bumping as rude because they live in a crowded country, but I hate to be touched by strangers. A girl on the plane actually held my elbow to pull me aside so her mother could pass.
I am in Seoul now and ready for home and my husband taking care of me after five weeks of travel. I feel like I can't even remember being home.
This is the first time I have been able to get to an Internet. I am at the Grand Hotel (which ain't bad) in Onyang (I think), Korea. The Rotarians booked it for me, and tomorrow I am going to the home of a past district governor whose daughter served as my interpreter at the airport last night. It is closing time for the Internet, so for now, Th-th-th-that's all, folks!
1 comment:
I suppose you can't use the Jewish excuse that anything (anyone) still living is not kosher. And nothing can make an octopus kosher.
As to the Chinese personal space quotient (of practically nothing) - this is a cultural thing that has little to do with population density - it was probably minimal way back when China was not so densely populated. But it very likely is connected with the crowded traditional living arrangements of Chinese families. Every ethnic group, and even each geographical division within the United States and other large countries, tends to have a somewhat different personal space requirement. The Cantonese personal space requirement is generally agreed to be one of the lowest. Add this to the separate question of whether it is ok to touch strangers, and some people can constantly be uncomfortable in other people's countries. My suggestion: revive the hoop skirt.
The Cantonese also eat just about anything technically edible. But at least they usually cook it! -Kevin
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