Now Serving: Seaweed, Snail, Silkworm, and Sushi

Every day, I am reminded in both subtle and overt ways why I should be thankful for the life that I have been given. Here, my friends often ask me, “Pae bu le yo?” This is one Korean way of saying, “How are you?” It literally means, “Are you full?” In China, they would ask a similar question: “Ni chi le, mei you?” That means, “Have you eaten?”

Whether or not you truly feel full at the moment, or have eaten yet or not, isn’t the point. You simply respond, “Yes, I am full,” or “Yes, I have eaten,” to signify a sense of national joy—that they are no longer living in utter deprivation. Those questions hearken back to a time in Asian history when, after occupation and post-war turmoil, the people simply had no food to eat. Pastor Lee shares stories of growing up, when American soldiers would give away expired baby formula, which entire families would then turn into a meal. Back then, the country had three national days when they were allowed to enjoy meat. For most, the only available food source was dog (cf. my last post).

In Kenya, one of the drivers told me that the happiest man in the village was the one who “could show off his heavy wife.” That means he is able to provide for her.

Keeping that in mind, I try to cultivate thankfulness for all things set in front of me. I am also fortunate to have a strong stomach and an adventurous appetite. Honestly, this has all served me well in trying all kinds of Korean cuisine.

For example, the elder at our church recently took me out for sushi. The first bowl set in front of me was seaweed soup. Though not bad in flavor, it has a slimy texture. The next bowls were sea snail and silkworm pupa. We grabbed small forks, pulled raw snail from its shell, and ate it whole. It would end up being my favorite appetizer. The silkworm pupa was distinctly bitter, though helped by a tasty garlic sauce. The main sushi courses were delicious and fresh (which you would hope for in raw fish). We ended with a spicy soup that consisted of a large crab chopped into pieces and boiled.

Don’t get me wrong. The Koreans have a love for all things fermented, dried, and pickled, but my food choices have not been limited to things like chicken amnion (yes, I had to look that up) and bean curd soup (the smell of which permeated my clothing). In fact, memorable meals have included the amazing Easter dinner at Canaan Duck. And the all-you-can-eat buffet at VIP’s Steak and Salad Bar. The ribs were the best I have ever eaten. I introduced my friends to their first Pepsi float there. And I was also highly entertained when Young Gwang, having eaten ten plates of food already, decided to eat an eleventh plate of pasta, simply because “it is free.”

There is also a healthy dose of the familiar here too. I have enjoyed a hamburger at Burger King (which recently opened across the street). I ate a sandwich at Quizno’s in Seoul. I had a steak at Outback in Suwon Station. Plus, E-Mart has bacon and a full dairy section! At home, I enjoy having an ice tray in my freezer. Also, Koreans share my love of pizza and wings. There is a shop on every corner that delivers. Though Koreans are wild about sweet potato or seafood on their pizza, they also have pepperoni and (my favorite here) white garlic with cheese. On top of that, restaurants all have western-style toilets—not the “squatty potty” found in other countries.

If I do have a complaint, it would be the rock hard mattresses. Yet, I fondly remember the irony of when I slept like a baby in a hotel in Hong Kong because of the pillow top. My three Chinese roommates looked miserable in the morning, and I asked them, “Did you sleep?” They moaned, “No! That mattress is way too soft!”

But after all that the generations before us have endured, I figure I can also live with a few inconveniences in my life. Beside, I don’t think Jesus had our comfort in mind when he commanded us: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me (Luke 9:23).” Moreover, I feel that simplicity can be a wise life choice and that resourcefulness is an admirable trait. I am humbled by the example that my Asian brothers and sisters have been to me.

Here I have learned: the sun makes a great clothes dryer. And a suitcase, turned on its side, can serve many purposes (such as a small bookshelf or laundry tote). Yes, it is strange at times not having car keys or a cell phone. I still search my pockets for them now and then. But it can also be very freeing.

Before we left Kenya, our friend Nancy asked to pray for us. She said, “I have been to America. I have seen how expensive your life is. And I know how busy you must be in order to afford it. I will pray that you never forget what God has done in your heart here.” She put into words what has been a wonderful truth—the less my life is crowded with “stuff,” the more room I have in my heart to hear from God.

Even still, there are things about life here that I enjoy even more than America. The family style meals are fun and relaxing. Dinner can last for more than three hours, and it is rewarding to be filled with great conversation and not just food. The food all tasted similar at first, but now my palate—and my heart—has expanded.

Today I cannot help but be grateful. For I have eaten, and I am indeed full.