Costco – like Makro for Americans – and yummy Indian 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.