Tag Archives: shopping

In search of an Opera House

Daegu, , ,

You’d think an Opera House would be the kind of thing that wouldn’t be hard to find. Particularly when the Opera House in question is, according to their own website, ‘shaped like a grand piano’. It’s not quite as bizarre as the images this concept may conjure up, but there is definitely something grand-piano-esque (without the legs) about the building,  as I was aware from the glimpse I’d caught when we drove past one time and a friend pointed it out. Last week Thursday I went looking for it and proved, quite conclusively that knowing what a building looks like, even one as distinctive as this, is no guarantee at all of finding it.

I had originally intended to go to the Opera House on Monday for a show but chickened out at the last minute, partly because I was tired but mostly because the task of finding a building I’d never been to first thing on a Monday morning was overwhelmingly daunting. This is why I set off on Thursday on a bit of ‘advanced recon’.

According to the Daegu tourist information website, I should have been able to reach the Opera House simply by taking bus #403 and getting off at the ‘Homeplus’ stop. This was particularly convenient because but #403 stops near my flat.

After 45 minutes of watching anxiously at each stop for anything vaguely resembling a ‘Homeplus’ (whatever that was) and a bus rapidly filling with people – I eventually stayed standing to get a better view of the names written on the stops – I found myself near Kyungpook National University in what I was fairly sure was the wrong part of town. I assumed I’d missed the stop in the bustle of the crowded bus, so I got off and crossed the road to get the same #403 bus going in the other direction. A quick look at the list of stops on that side didn’t turn up what I was looking for but I figured the ‘Homeplus’ stop could be called something else (as often happens), so I stuck to the plan.

While I waited, I had the most gorgeous view of a river and a park. I’m increasingly delighted by the long, narrow parks – complete with walks, exercise equipment, jungle gyms and the occasional basketball court – that run alongside most rivers and canals in Daegu. This river sparkled and danced in the weak, mid-afternoon sunshine, as children played and people walked and ran alongside it.

The bus arrived and I climbed aboard and determinedly claimed a seat with a good view of all the stops so that I couldn’t miss mine again. By the time we had wound our way back to the subway station that I normally get off at for Sam Duk, have traversed downtown a second time, it was clear that bus #403 does not in fact go anywhere near the Opera House. Disgruntled, I got out and crossed the road to see if I could find any sign of another bus that might take me there.

As luck would have it, my slow and careful deciphering of the list of bus-stops for the Rapid 2 bus (a bus none of the websites mentioned) revealed that this bus went to had a ‘Homeplus’ stop listed. Just to give a proper idea, Homeplus here spelt 험플러스 which ends up being something like hom-peul-leo-seu. I had just missed one of these Rapid 2 buses so I had to wait 15 minutes for the next one.

After crawling through downtown traffic we reached the right stop. Homeplus, it turns out, is a rather large (multi-storey) department-type store. Except not a department store. It’s actually Homeplus TESCO, so it’s an actual hypermarket.

Once off the bus, I walked to the traffic light/pedestrian crossing, from where I could see along a side-road and there, just a block away, was the Opera House. I went along the road just to make absolutely sure I was in the right place but it was, indeed, the place I’d spent the entire afternoon failing to find.

Since I was there, I popped into Homeplus to have a look, too. It looks like a great place to find reasonably-priced clothes. I didn’t find the groceries – despite large adverts for specials on things like cabbages – but I’m sure they must be there somewhere (in one of the 7 storeys). And maybe they’ll even have cheese.

Now that I know where it is, I plan to return to Homeplus and do a proper shop sometime. Now that I know where the Opera House is, I can finally get organized and make my way there for one of the many shows they advertise. And finally enjoy some of the high culture the city has to offer.

Costco – like Makro for Americans – and yummy Indian food

Daegu, Food, ,

Sundays are generally quiet days for me – either because the ridiculously late nights of the week have worn me out or because I don’t really have anything to do and have run out of the energy for exploring. This week was different as my colleague and I headed off for a long-promised visit to Costco. Although we’d planned to head out early, he and I both live on nocturnal time (he even more so than I) so he picked me up at 11:30am and we went to get something to eat before heading to the shop.

Unlike most of the places I’ve visited in Daegu, this is not that close to where I live because it’s situated near the main American military base in order to capitalise on the foreign market. This meant that lunch needed to be somewhere on the way, which is how we ended up parking on KNU campus and heading for an Indian restaurant. In all my years in SA, I haven’t eaten all that much Indian food, and particularly haven’t spent much time in Indian restaurants – as opposed to meals shared in people’s homes and at parties or from street vendors.

That said, Indian is practically South African as far as some part of my brain is concerned and walking into the Indian restaurant brought on strange bouts of feeling terribly at home. Terribly because it could have been designed to induce homesickness (given that I don’t come from an Indian community) but also wonderfully, comfortably familiar. I felt myself relax and take a deep breathe of calm. This was perhaps exaccerbated by the fact that I’m finding Korea particularly noisy at the moment and this was an oasis of calm and quiet with nothing but gentle music with rhythms that made me recall the occassional belly-dancing class and a smiling, non-Korean waiter (who rocked).

We poured over the menu. Or rather, I poured over the menu, as my colleague knew immediately what he wanted to order – a spinach-based vegetarian dish. I eventually settled on a North Indian Chicken and vegetable curry thing (which has a name, which I currently cannot remember) and rice. My colleague also ordered Naan bread with cheese (real cheese!). After seeing me struggle with Korean food, I think he was a little taken aback to see how easily I took to the Indian menu and food. I struggle to explain just how comfortably multi-cultural home is and this was one of those situations. The food was fantastic. I honestly found myself having to stop eating because I was full but wishing that I wasn’t because it tasted so delicious. Of course, it also had the advantage of not requiring chopsticks – which at this point is always a bonus. But I was seriously impressed. The atmosphere was great, the staff were amazing and the food was marvellous. It sounds odd that in Korea the place I now want to take visitors is an Indian restaurant, but that is a little what I’m feeling.

I also wondered a little if the waiter hadn’t spent some time in South Africa. The accent sounded so familiar and I felt that he smiled a little wider when he noticed the SA rugby jersey I was wearing (in honour of the Boks Tri-nation victory) but apparently they’re all from Pakistan and India so perhaps that is just wishful thinking. Either way, this is another place to add to my list of amazing discoveries in Daegu. When I mentioned later that I want to travel around Korea, my colleague said that all Korean cities are the same. Thinking about it now, I should have pointed out to him that it’s gems like this place that make every city different. I also failed to explain – because I don’t know how – just how much this place felt closer to home than any Korean restaurant I’ve walked into since I’ve been here. Perhaps having so many wonderful cultures at home prepares you for foreign travel not just in terms of dealing with other cultures but because you can always find a piece of Africa, even if it comes from India.

The cultural differences came up in conversation again when we reached Costco. This colleague, as an American, has serious issues with people not respecting personal space. Coming from Africa, I have a far smaller concept of personal space, so this doesn’t really bother me. In fact, I sometimes find it difficult to understand the extent to which it bothers other foreigners. I did, however, still feel a little claustrophobic on a lift with nearly 20 other people. We parked on the roof so there were several floors to go down and at each stop more people kept getting on. I think some of them were getting annoyed with me because I wasn’t moving back but I was very aware of the mother with a small, energetic child standing directly behind me.

When we finally reached the actual shopping floors, we had to go to the information desk and sort out membership. Like Makro, you have to have a membership card to shop at Costco, and because I don’t currently have my alien card (because my boss needed it to do some paperwork) we needed to renew my colleague’s. This involved a stop at the information desk and then a somewhat-meandering trip back up the stairs one floor (avoiding the overcrowded elevators) before it was finally sorted out.

And then, membership secured, we walked into what could be an American replica of Makro. Except American. I’ve heard a lot about Costco since I arrived here. It seems to be the place that keeps most foreigners happy. It was easy to see why, walking through the place with an American. I didn’t recognise as much stuff (except from American TV programmes) but I can see how it would make anyone from North America feel like they’d rediscovered home.

The first aisle we stopped at was the stationery. I am desperately trying to find the Korean equivalent of ‘prestic’ and have so far failed (including today). In the process of  searching, we both got distracted by the large packs of white-board markers and the multi-packs of gel-pens in many, many colours. I definitely had a moment of being reminded that whatever else we are, when we’re here we’re all teachers first and foremost.

Once we dragged ourselves away from the stationery, we found the very small book selection. Apparently the store used to cater far more for foreigners than it does now (presumably because they’ve discovered a lucrative Korean market just dying to buy American-style products in bulk) and their book selection is now extremely limited. We did find an audio (casette) kiddies version of Aesop’s fables but other than that nothing of interest – which is a little frustrating for two book people.

On our way out of the maze of books and stationary and house-hold items, we found a shampoo/toothpaste/multi-vitamin section and I picked up a huge pack of multi-vits (400 per pack), so I should be good for a year or so. I also looked longingly around the shampoo/conditioner section while my colleague tried to find an Omega-3 supplement that wasn’t all fish oil (don’t ask) and then had to explain that the reason I wasn’t buying any shampoo was because none of it is made for curly hair (which I think he still doesn’t believe in spite of all the straight-haired people as evidence to the contrary).

So, on (up the horrible moving walkway) to the food. Costco is known for having a wide variety of the type of foodstufs that Koreans just don’t eat and which, as a result, are not available in Korean shops. The first stop was the vegetable storage walk-in fridge. I was on an (unsuccessful) hunt for Rocket (Arugula in the States). I did find a variety-pack of lettuce which is a welcome relief from the ice-berg lettuce I’ve been reduced to so far. My colleague found pine-apple, which was very exciting – don’t laugh, it’s unusual here. There were also some very tempting packs of brown mushrooms, which I resisted on the grounds that they’d just go off in my fridge before I finished them (and I don’t have an oven to cook stuffed mushrooms), as well as some rock-hard New Zealand Avos, which I (sorrowfully) rejected for the same reason.

On to the meats and cheeses. Costco is apparently the best place to find meat in Daegu and there was a better selection than I’ve seen elsewhere, but it still wasn’t anything like what I’m used to. I don’t think we, as South Africans, really appreciate the variety of reasonably-priced meat we have easy access to at home. Here finding good meat, especially in the cuts we’re used to, is a struggle. And even this place didn’t have the lamb/mutton I’ve been craving.

They did have cheese. As a wholesaler, they sell to restaurants so it was good to see real Parmesan, Edam and some Munster and Gorgonzola. I was a little frustrated (perhaps something approaching frantic) not to be able to find Cheddar. At which point, we both got distracted by the wines. The wine selection in Korea is erratic to say the least. Some places have some great wines at reasonable prices but always mixed up with some extortionately priced rather unexeptional ones. And, of course, they’re always foreign (to me) so I’m never sure what I’m getting. I was happy, today, to find a less-extortionately priced 2006 Cab/Shiraz/Merlot from Australia. And then I noticed the Amarula and nearly wept for joy, and spent several minutes (unsuccessfully) trying to explain Amarula to an American. And then I saw a South African wine. This is the first time, despite much searching, that I’ve seen a South African wine in Korea. Unfortunately it was a rather mediocre semi-sweet red Simonsvlei (try explaining how to say that to a foreigner) but it has excited the hope that I might find more soon.

We then moved on to find other good things. I was very excited to find Olive Oil and Balsalmic, a feeling which my colleague of Italian heritage appreciated, and eventually Cheddar Cheese, and took great enjoyment in his excitement at the most amazingly huge Apple and Pumpkin pies (which we didn’t buy but were excited about nonetheless) and a huge variety of candy (to use the American term) from the States and other places, as well as a variety of biscuits – sorry, cookies – and cereals and other foods. We both got excited about finding cranberry juice until I read the packaging which said that it was a juice blend including cranberry, made from a concentrate, at which point I lost interest. There was also Ceres Apple and Mango juice but only in monster-packs so it seemed excessive so I didn’t buy it.

Finally we paid for our meagre wares – I will never get used to paying hundreds of thousands for what would cost just thousands in Rands – and headed out. This required us to get our trolley checked by the nice receipt-checking lady (oh, how I miss SA security guards) and getting onto the moving walkway to go up and up and up. My colleague is, by this time, aware that I’m not a fan of escalators. Moving walkways (they are called travellators at the airports) are even less fun, especially when they start out moving flat and you can feel through your feet when they start to go up the slope. On a busy Sunday afternoon at Costco, the women who check the till-slips also make sure that there aren’t too many people and trolleys (shopping-carts), ie weight, on the moving walkway. The first flight was fine but I was decidedly less than happy when, half way up the second, the moving walkway suddenly stopped. I realise that there is no rational basis for my paranoia about escalators and moving walkways but they still make me decidedly uneasy, so the 10 minute wait while the Koreans tried to figure out how to communicate with each other between floors (in the abscense, of course, of walkie-talkies or other radio devices) made me very unhappy.

Eventually we reached the parking lot and – box of happy foods in hand – took the steps to the roof parking instead of waiting for the elevator. Once there, we stopped for a minute to enjoy the beautiful views. It had rained while we were inside, so the world had that newly-washed feel to it, and from the rooftop of Costco we could see across Daegu to beautiful mountains all around (in between the apartment blocks).

We stopped for a coffee on the way home. I am reminded regularly of how good it is to get reasonably coffee all over the place. All in all it was a good day of exploring and discovering and my kitchen is now significantly enriched by olive oil, balsalmic vinager, cheddar cheese and proper italian pasta (which I wouldn’t even have at home) for when I get really hungry for proper food.

Shopping and rain

Daegu, , ,

I went shopping the other day. So far in Korea, I haven’t really ventured further than my corner store, a little superette-type place down the road and the bakeries (there are three different Paris Baguette stores within easy walking distance of my flat, one on the way from the bus stop home). On Wednesday, I decided that it was time to venture a little further. Also, I had run out of paper and not having paper is a problem. So I headed down the road to have a look around. It looked like rain so I took an umbrella. I’ve been using an umbrella belonging to my boss since I got here – which he very kindly lent me on the first day, as soon as he discovered that I didn’t have one. It’s a little cumbersome but the promise of rain here tends to be fulfilled, so I took it anyway.

First stop was the department store. I have known that the store was there since soon after I arrived. It’s a large, pale pink, multi-storey monstrosity that says it is a department store (in English). Also the bus stop where I get the bus for work every day is just outside. I was particularly interested because I’m not particularly familiar with the department store concept. It’s something that never really took off in South Africa. I spent a little time wandering around trying to find the right entrance. Eventually I found an entrance and decided I should just go in there. I’m used to shops that clearly indicate where you should go in with large signs and security guards. This is a just a foyer area leading directly onto the make-up and perfume floor, usually hidden in South African stores behind other clothes and several more security people. Once inside, I was unsure of what do to next, so I headed directly for the elevator – following the woman in front of me. At the top of the escalator was a reassuringly English sign saying ‘youth casual’. I figured that probably didn’t apply to me so I headed up another floor and found the ladies’-wear floor, containing a staggering number of areas of clothes and shoes and handbags, each dedicated to a different designer or brand. I saw a name that looked vaguely familiar (Benneton, I think) and slipped quickly between rows of exquisite (and expensive-looking) shirts and jackets to look around – and attempt to blend in. I’m also looking for a pair of open sandals to wear in the oppressive heat and a handbag that is slightly more water-proof and a little less hippie-looking than mine, so there was method to the madness. Wandering around that floor for a while, I found myself somewhat disappointed. I didn’t actually try anything on, or even look at sizes, but every single item of clothing I saw seemed to be adorned with frills and lacy bits and odd patterns. I tend to wear fairly plain clothes, choosing to make an impression with colour rather than frills, so the idea that I might not be able to find anything here that isn’t frilly doesn’t thrill me. I wondered, vaguely and fleetingly, if it might have something to do with different body shapes – Korean women tend to be shorter, for example.

After a while, I headed up another level and found the ladies formal and work-wear floor, most of which seemed, to be honest, to be more of the same. Except for one thing that caught my eye – a stunning, shapely little black cocktail dress that I would love to own, in the M&S section, weirdly. It really is pretty and I may well just go back and see if it’s still there once I get paid. Until then (and possibly after then – I haven’t actually done the conversions yet) it is a little more than I’m willing to spend on a dress that I don’t currently have any opportunity to wear at 99,000 won. Sometimes I feel a little as if I’m living in Zim-currency-hell here. I also meandered onto the men’s- and golf-wear floor. At first I misread the sign and thought it said men’s golf wear, so I was a little surprised to see suits. Visions of South Korean men (and women once I saw the mannequins) wandering golf courses in suits. It appears women have two floors (excluding the youth floor) but men only get half a floor. Definitely gender discrimination right there. There is also a floor of house stuff – linen, fine china, cutlery and appliances. I may be visiting there soon. I currently have a non-fitted sheet for my bed and it’s beginning to drive me mad.

After wandering around looking (I’m sure) completely lost for a while, I decided to head out. I did find a music, movies, toys and kiddies’ books and clothes floor but couldn’t seem to find an exam pad. One of the greatest frustrations of being in a completely foreign place is not knowing where to find ordinary things. I’m used to having a stationers just down the road or at the nearest mall for the more complicated and high-quality stationary and, really, being able to get pretty much anything else at the supermarket. It appears they don’t have those kinds of supermarkets here. Or at least I haven’t found any yet. The ones they do have resemble far more closely 7-11 Friendlys than Pick ‘n Pays. Although, I think even the Friendlys in SA stock paper and pens.

On my way out of the shop, I looked around the sale section on the first floor and was hugely disheartened because all of the shoes and bags were, frankly, unattractive. I don’t ask a lot of shoes and bags – just that they’re functional and at least a little bit attractive. And plain – less of the buttons and bows is preferable. I’m hoping I was just overwhelmed and there really are some pretty ones here. There is also a Body Shop section. A little odd for Body Shop to be lumped in with Gucci and all the Yardleys and Revlons, but good to know they’re around – at least they’re familiar. On the way out of the door, in the foyer area, there was a table filled with umbrellas and a sales-girl (seriously, she must still be in high-school) trying to sell them. I was already carrying an umbrella but it’s a terribly large and clumsy one, so I stopped to have a look. The sales-person was quick to see a potential sale and rushed to show me a purple one with spots on it, which I assume she thought would suit me. I would have preferred something a little less… well… girly, but I just didn’t have the language to argue with her and it is one of those wonderfully convenient umbrellas that folds up to fit into a handbag, so I simply asked her to show me how big it was when opened (with gestures and facial expressions – but she got it) and then decided I’d take it. At which point, I wondered how to ask how much it cost. She must have noticed my confusion because she showed me a nice, clear label with the price (in numbers I could understand) and then took my money right there. So I now have a nice, lilac-purple, spotty umbrella, which fits snugly into my handbag.

On the way home, in desperation because I really do like to have paper to write on, I stopped into a little shop literally three doors down the road. I’ve noticed it before and it has things like picture books and paint and crinkle-paper so I thought I’d check it out, on the off-chance that they were a stationers, as well as a kids’-pocket-money-spending/art-supply place (they are across the road from an elementary school and a middle school and next door to a one-room after-school art academy). They certainly didn’t have a huge collection but I was (finally) able to find a book with blank pages. So, I now have paper to write on. I was helped by a sweet, if rather overenthusiastic, older lady who doesn’t speak a word of English. As I don’t speak a word of Korean, and I really didn’t understand her gestures, I wasn’t quite sure how we’d manage. I looked around at one point for a till (because it’s normally easiest to take the thing you’re buying to a till where they can ring it up and then look at the numbers) and saw with dismay that there wasn’t one. The book also didn’t have a price on it. Eventually I just opened my wallet and she must have understood because she pointed to a 1000 won note and nodded emphatically. Somewhat relieved, I headed home.

In the past two days, I’ve used the book plenty and been quite glad that I did buy a convenient and useful umbrella. It’s been raining a lot. On both Thursday and Friday mornings, it looked exactly like a cold, miserable Cape Town Winter morning – complete with rain alternating between beating down and drizzling and clouds drooping over the mountains like a teenage rapper’s jeans. It has been exactly the kind of weather that makes you want to do nothing but curl up on the couch with a book and a blanket and a good glass of rich, spicy red wine. I’ve spent many hours (while the kids are completing tasks) watching the rain fall outside my classroom window.

The only problem with this situation is that it’s also hot. It’s the kind of overpowering, all-consuming warm weather that fills me with the desire to spend marvellous afternoons drinking ice-cold beer in pretty beer gardens. Which results in some instinct-collision: I keep finding myself longing to curl up under a blanket with an ice-cold beer, or to sit in a beautiful beer garden with a glass of red wine and a book. It is very confusing.

I’m hoping next week might be a little lighter on the rain. I’m currently working mornings instead of evenings (much to my chagrin) because the kids are on summer vacation. This means that some days I’m done by early afternoon, providing lots of time to wander around and explore a little. I am even considering, if I have the time and inclination, trying to find my way to Downtown, where sock and shoe streets are apparently located. Assuming it doesn’t keep raining. And that I’m not suddenly told I’m teaching more classes.