True Korean Lunch

Last weekend I went out to eat with a Korean family I have gotten to know in this area. First of all, not having to order or decipher a menu is such a treat. Their 5-year-old daughter began the meal by giving everyone a spoon and chopsticks. Naturally I have become rather acquianted with this tradition of handing out everything to everyone, even pouring the water for everyone at the table. I find it so friendly and delightful, and the teacher culture easily picks up little things like this as we live within it. Even still, I always find it so quaint when a child can so easily do what I have had to learn. It cements the natural gesture, provides it with time and circumstance. Plus it was adorable!

It's also interesting to watch Korean children eat. At this meal the children used forks while the adults used chopsticks, although I don't know if this is because they aren't used to chopsticks yet, or as a treat because I was there! For appetizer we were served mandu - spinach and meat or kimchi filled dumplings that are definitely a Korean-food teacher favourite. Watching the mother cut these steaming pastries into smaller pieces for her toddler, I couldn't help but laugh at the image in my head of the face of disgust that any North American toddler would surely pull at the sight of it.

For the main course we had pajilang kalguksu - big thick noodles in broth with mini mussel-type seafood. On the side there was sweet kimchi and pork (bossam) which is delicious and you can make sandwiches with lettuce as you do so often with food here. Everyone waited for me to begin, and of course I splashed broth everywhere as the huge noodles fell off the serrated spoon back into the communal bowl. The very instance the soup hit my dish, the adorable little girl on my left had her hand plunged into it. Reminding myself not to shout in protest, I watched in very real amusement as she shelled each and every mussel in my bowl, plopped them back down, and neatly arranged the shells on what was apparently the plate allotted for discard. And to think that these actions - passing the chopsticks, waiting for me to go first, helping with my meal - aren't even necessarily manners taught, but more a conditioned and automatic respect for anyone older. Of course, like any children in a restaurant they couldn't sit still for more than a minute, but what would childhood be otherwise?

I am sure it's partly because I have no family of my own here that these encounters leave me feeling so full, but for me this experience provided a feeling of sincere welcome at a stranger's table, and a lucky insight into real life on the other side of the world.