Life in Korea:

Duality

I am not much of a cook. It's a talent that I've not been endowed with. But still the kitchen is my favorite part of the house.

To me, it represents the duality in every woman.

Traditionally, it is a symbol of the lowly role of  servitude to the patriarchal masters. (I struggled against this conventional thought as I was growing up).

On the other hand, this nook being the hearth of activity at home, also affirms the modern woman and her passion for creative endeavor.

Alis Volat Propriis

SHE FLIES ON HER OWN WINGS.....

Introducing the Boiler...

                   A boiler is a condensing heating system that is unique to Korea.

It's a matrix of pipes which runs through the entire floor area of a house. When the control box is turned on, hot water runs through the pipes making the floor comfortably warm.

People sleep on the floor on comforters called 'ibul'. There is really no need for a bed.^^

The boiler is an ingenius invention. It controls both water and room temperature in the house. It's actually better than the western radiator and fireplace.

During my stay at a hotel in Bournemouth, the B&B in Southampton, and even the Porchester Hotel in Bayswater,London, I found the room uncomfortably cold even though the radiator was on.

The fireplace, according to my British friend, provides heat to an isolated place like the living room so the rest of the house remains cold. I recall her saying that in winter she used to get changed right there in her living room because her own bedroom was cold. ^^

My First Winter...(1997)

I remember my first winter in Korea....

It had been cloudy for a couple of days. It had stopped snowing but in it's place came rain, cold, cold rain. It was Saturday morning.

I was worried about my laundry. I put everything in the washer, every piece of clothing that we had. I washed them the night before.

   " I should hang them out to dry or we'd have nothing to wear to work come Monday," I thought as I took them out of the washer.

God answered my silent prayers for that day the sun came out. It was shining brightly. I took my laundry out, hang them onto the clothesline, and went off to work with the happy thought that my laundry would be dry before nightfall.

The day went by. When it was time to go, I took my leave, said goodbye to the people at work and went on my way.

At last home-sweet-home. The first thing that caught my eye upon reaching the top of the stonesteps that led to my front door was my laundry...my FROZEN laundry... They were stiff. I couldn't even get them off the clothesline.

  " This is a disaster!", a voice inside me confirmed. " You can't afford to buy a new set of wardrobe. Not when the budget is tight. What have you done?", my alter-ego scolding me harshly.

Tears poured down my cheeks like rain as panic set in. I called up my husband. A few minutes later, I heard his familiar voice on the door.

  "What happened?', he inquired.

  " Well, didn't you see? It was right outside."

  "Calm down, and tell me what's the emergency?"

My husband listened patiently as I explained between sobs what had just happened.

  "Honey, it's not my fault. You see, in my country when we take the clothes out to dry, they don't freeze over. What'll we do? We can't go to work in our pajamas!"

My husband chuckled and replied; " Nothing to worry about. We, Koreans, have a clever way of solving this problem. Let me show you."

We went outside together and took the laundry off the clothesline. Doing that took quite a while. We had to be careful for we didn't want the clothes to break into pieces. Having done that successfully , my husband instructed me to turn on the boiler (home heating system like a radiator). Then he laid each piece of clothing on the floor.

Finally he said, " They'll be dry in the morning." Sure enough they were dry the next morning.

This experience has taught me that there are two ways of dealing with life: my way, and the 'new' Korean way. The former works just as well as the latter. But a combination of both is by far the most effective.