a rain of strawberry leaves

In recognition of the fact that I am a gosh darn coward and have been rationalizing like a bloody fool about not buying something at Gohyeon Sijang (the open-air market in the northwest-central part of town), I decided to cut the Gordian knot, take the bull by the horns, carpe diem and all those other turns of phrase and do it. I also decided to get some pictures; I haven't been to many open-air markets in foreign countries, but Gohyeon's strikes me as a charming sort of place, and iconic in its way. Some of the Asian markets I've seen on documentaries (be they Japanese, Chinese, Malaysian or otherwise) all seem to have some common themes: narrow lanes, overhanging awnings and umbrellas, goods and wares arranged in an orderly fashion every which-way, exploding out of the shops and onto the walkway, and crowds and crowds of people milling around, haggling, buying this and that, while vendors hawk their wares or busily prepare them.

Gohyeon Sijang embodies that ideal and manifests those attributes. So I decided to get some pictures and buy some stuff. Any stuff. Just to prove to myself that could do it.

It worked.

Sunday had been a semi-big day already. I woke up at nine, got some milk at the corner store, then came back and made some pancakes. It's true I made them from a mix, but hey, they were recognizably pancakes. I burnt 'em a bit but they still tasted great. I cooked up some bacon, too, and poured the generic Korean brand of maple syrup (still recognizably maple syrup) all over everything. Delicious, I'd forgotten how much I'd missed it. Back home in my folks' house there's a big pancake breakfast every Sunday; it got to be a tradition, like homemade pizzas on Wednesday nights.

Anyway, that was that. Then, after doing my exercises (over the span of an hour; I can't be bothered to really push myself), I put on my camera, grabbed Michael Palin's book Hemingway Adventure (on loan from Jeff) and strode out. First I thought I'd return Jeff's book, but either he wasn't in or he was still asleep. Then I walked up to Adam and Elaine's and knocked on their door. I wanted to get some pictures of Bo Jenkins to send to the relations. While I was there, Adam and I thought we'd finally attempt to trim the rabbit's claws; they were monstrously, hideously long. Either its previous owners had neglected it or it had been on its own for a long time. Bo Jenkins did well on his left anterior paw, but when we switched to his right he became somewhat skittish and darted back into his cage. We decided to leave his remaining two limbs for later. I was beginning to sneeze from the alfalfa anyway.

It happened that A & E were on their way to Homeplus to do some weekend food shopping as well as restock on rabbit supplies, and I was headed that way myself to attain some gifts for my grandparents. I'm sending some acacia honey, a Korean specialty, to my grandfather, some coffee mugs, some red ginseng tea for Grandma, and some assorted snacks such as they always kindly send me: nuts, cookies, and the like. I'm sending that off tomorrow with my brother Harlan's twenty-first (yikes!) birthday card. I also wanted to secure a high-capacity USB drive; I realized that my laptop is aging rapidly and if it goes I'll lose all of the high-definition photos I've taken while I've been here. So we all strode down to Homeplus together. We stopped to check out a couple of pet stores along the way, but they were devoid of rabbit-related products.

Adam was starving, so we dropped in at Lotteria (the Korean fast-food joint) and ordered up. I thought it was high time I tried a bulgogi burger. I got it and found it rather good, actually. It tasted like a regular burger with bulgogi sauce, but bulgogi sauce ain't bad: kind of like a sweetish, tasty barbecue sauce. Elaine decided she didn't like her chicken sandwich, so Adam and I split it. It was soggy but palatable. Adam and Elaine pronounced themselves more satisified with their Lotteria experience this time around; last time they'd complained of small, soggy, old, stale burgers, some of the worst quality they'd had. This time around was better. Perhaps it's best to go later in the day when the staff have had time to clear out the day-old stock.

After a few more detours to appliance stores and ATMs for camera pricing and cash (respectively) we arrived at Homeplus and did our shopping. Then we returned in a cab, and I came back down to my place, dumped off my USB drive (four gigs) and my other shopping, then hauled my camera back on, got some cash out of an ATM, then went to the market to impulse photograph/buy. I'm still a coward. I didn't take nearly as many photos as I could or should have, simply because I was scared of ticking off the vendors or shopkeepers. Heck, I'm going to be gone in a few months anyway. What are they going to do, lynch me?

Still, the shots I did get were good. Have a look:

In the meantime, I also did some impulse buying. A few days earlier I'd seen a hat I'd liked at a clothing stall for 8,000 won. I jumped at that one first. I bought it up and couldn't be happier about it. I'll get a picture of myself wearing it up here soon.

Then I thought I needed some food. I wanted to buy a stingray right then and there; the catalyst for this new expatriate inadequacy complex of mine was the fact that I'd considered buying fish from the fish market. Adam suggested I just look up a recipe on the Internet, buy a fish and take my chances. That was such an astonishingly good and simple idea that my insecure brain immediately collapsed into a miasma of self-deprecation and reproach. Hence this whole trip to the market. I was having salad that night, and my freezer was already stuffed with a couple of left-over gray mullet, otherwise I would've purchased the strangest fish I could find, no matter the cost.

Given the circumstances, though, I settled for strawberries. I was walking along the main street and saw an elderly lady vendor offering strawberries. I asked the price: 14,000. That was stiff, but I went for it. I didn't realize I was supposed to haggle. I didn't realize I'd get a whole basketful of them, either, along with two plastic bowls for carrying. The whole affair was loaded into a plastic bag and I, overwhelmed but nonetheless elated at my achievements, took the load and soldiered on. I made a loop around the outside of the market, doubled back through the fish vendors, and wound up back at my starting point by the clothing stalls. This time I noticed some cargo pants that looked like they'd fit me. I was starting to get low on usable pants, so I purchased them for 11,900 won.

Thus laden, I snapped a few more pics and vamoosed. I got back to my room, took a shower, washed up the strawberries, took them up to the roof with my copy of 50 Great Short Stories, then sat, read and munched in the evening light. The put the strawberries in my mouth, tore off the leaves with my hand, and sent them fluttering in the breeze down to the street four stories below. There was a veritable rain of strawberry leaves falling on that street this evening.

Now I'm blogging, cutting up a tomato for my salad, listening to Herbert von Karajan conducting Beethoven's Eighth Symphony in F Major (whaddya know, YouTube is good for something), and will soon load up another dubbed episode of One Piece to enjoy before I go down to the pub with Brian at eleven.

Oh yeah, I need to look up some fish recipes too.