Koreans are a generous people. They absolutely LOVE to give gifts. Incidentally, they love to give me gifts. Almost everyday, I come back to my desk to find little treats. My students love to give me chocolate or photos of themselves or free demos for online computer games so that I can play with them. Teachers love to give me food or socks or little dangly things that hang off of cell phones. Generally, I receive these gifts with the greatest of enthusiasm. Sometimes though, things get a little out of hand.
The one flaw about receiving gifts is that you absolutely must accept. If a teacher gives me a potato in the morning (which happens often), I am expected to eat it. Maybe I just had some pop tarts, or maybe I'm 30 minutes away from eating lunch. No excuse. If I don't eat the potato, chaos ensues.
I found this out the hard way when I came back from a class to find a plate of rice cakes sitting in front of my computer. "This is from science teacher," says my co-teacher, Mr. Lee. Though I don't necessarily know who 'science teacher' is, I smile and say, "Oh, that is really nice," and push the rice cakes to the side as I sit down to check facebook or gmail or whatever it is I do all day.
"Why don't you eat?" asks Mr. Lee, looking quite concerned. I was still trying to get over the absurd amount of food I ate at lunch and couldn't really imagine stuffing rice cakes in my mouth at the moment. "I'm not hungry," I say. Apparently that is not a factor. I am told that this is a "delicious traditional Korean rice cake," which is subliminal code for "you need to eat this right now." I get the hint and grudgingly plow through the plate of rice cakes, watching my stomach expand in front of my eyes.
Whether it was "Give Kimchi to a foreigner Day," or due simply to fate, I received two giant-sized plastic containers of grade-A, uncut, home-made Kimchi yesterday. Due to the extreme excitement of one of the teachers (repeated clapping, jumping in place, shouting...), this is apparently a huge honor. I smiled, bowed, and Kamsa Needa-ed my way out of the room, wondering what the hell I was going to do with all of this Kimchi.
Here is a shot of just one of the plastic containers now lying on the floor of my kitchen. My dorm-room sized fridge can't even hold one of them. Each container probably holds a six month supply of Kimchi. If I did have room, I'd probably still be making my way through the second container in time to ring in the new year...in 2010. The dilemma I have is this: I have no idea what to do with all this goddamn Kimchi. I wish that I could have just told these teachers that, though the gift is much appreciated, I simply have no room in which to store the Kimchi. Unfortunately this is not an option. Such a response would make me blacklisted among every teacher in my school. Word would spread like SARS around Seoul Robotics High School that I don't appreciate gifts, and I would never get oranges or Pepero again.
What do I do with all of this Kimchi? After much thought, I have come up with two options. I could secretly throw it all away or I could give it to a homeless person. Neither of these options seem probable, however. If I throw it away, I'll feel awful. To throw away ten pounds of homemade Kimchi is a 'fuck you' to the entire nation of Korea. Not only that, but there are moral issues at stake. I can't justify wasting that much food.
There is a homeless man who has recently set up shop in my subway station. I am sure he would be thrilled to have a year's supply of Kimchi. If not, he could probably trade it in for a few bottles of Soju. However, I don't think I could bring myself to walk up to this man and simply hand him two giant containers of Kimchi. I imagine he doesn't speak any English and he would probably be very confused. "Why the hell is this white guy giving me a massive amount of Kimchi?" Not only that, but people around us would start staring. "Why the hell is this white guy giving that drunk a massive amount of Kimchi?" The situation would be entirely too awkward. Plus, I walk by this guy every day. "Oh, there goes that weird Kimchi guy," he'd think to himself as I stroll by.
So now I'm forced to come up with option C. What is option C? I don't know yet, but until I figure it out, my apartment will permeate with the not-so-pleasing odor of Kimchi.
Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated...
4 comments:
Are there any Americans in your area that you could offer (regift) one of the kimchi tubs? It is quite a dilemma as that is an awful lot of food to go to waste. Also, instead of handing the homeless guy a couple of tubs of kimchi, perhaps you could give him smaller amounts each day as you stroll by. Maybe a little to-go container with a little rice and a good chunk of the fermented spicy cabbage? I'm sure he would appreciate the gift and he'll have to take it since you aren't allowed to say no to gifts. You might even make a friend out of all this.
do you have neighbors you could share your kimchi with? just let them know you got loads of it & that you're spreading the joy 'cause it's too much for you to eat alone (and it'll just taste bad when you've had it for too long). or if your neighbors don't speak english just tell them it's a christmas gift :P
I appreciate the suggestions. I don't know my neighbors so I'd feel really weird knocking on their door and handing them kimchi. I also don't any of my American/foreign friends would want any Kimchi. Most people don't like it as much as I do anyway. Maybe I should just sneak down to the subway station late at night and place the containers next to the homeless man when he's passed out...
lol. it'll be his christmas miracle. maybe you should go around christmas eve in red & white & drop it off randomly
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