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Not many times in your culinary encounters do you come across something so weird, that you just start losing your mind.

Enter the ready-to-drink pumpkin soup in a can.

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(The can actually says: The ugly pumpkin's sweet revolt)

I can't think of any reasonable person coming up with this idea. Which leads me to think it was drummed up by some drugged up lawyer in the marketing department.

I think it went down like this:

Scene. Conference with marketing department people.

Marketing Chief: We need ideas for a new drink. Some thing the Pepsi generation will find tasteful, cool, and by purchasing, will make them attractive to members of the opposite sex. Maybe just the last one.

Marketing dudes: How about pumpkin soup in a can? One of our subsidiaries accidentally bought a couple of metric tons instead of buying pumpkin futures.

Marketing Chief: But won't that offend common sense, lower the morale of the common man, and cause hysteria in the general population?

Marketing dudes: We can guarantee you won't be fired.

Marketing Chief: Very well then. As long as I can call it: The ugly pumpkin's sweet revolt! Full steam ahead!

Marketing dudes: Dude, go easy on the weed man.

The taste: Sweet, and pumpkin-y. It also has what I describe a sickly vegetable kind of taste, like the feeling you get if you bite into a raw celery. Bleh.

The texture: Very light, about the same consistency as cream, and it gets heavier (thicker) towards the bottom of the can. It's a kind of velvety feeling.

The temperature: These cans sit in what looks like a converted hotdog rotisserie and the are kept warm, maybe about 60 degrees celsius.

Would I do it again? Not in this lifetime.

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Some things are not avoidable. Like trips to the dentist after years of guzzling coca cola, or having that conversation you're been putting off forever, or getting some work done, there are things that are just not avoidable.

Like translating things for other people if you're bilingual (or tri-, or quad?-). In Korea, there is a dire shortage of people who can speak english with any amount of adequacy, and an even smaller number who can translate with any touch of grace.

Someone in my research group needed some translation done so he could send his article for review at this place:

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Logo

Being the only true native speaker in the group, I was obliged to help out.

The problem was this:

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Yeah. Gosh darn it.

The whole process of translation was just bizarrely frustrating. Moments of yelling intensely at the computer screen (WHAT THE F*** DOES THAT MEAN?), staying up all hours (did I mention that I had about a week to do it?), eating abnormally (my diet consisted almost entirely out of things that cost less than five dollars at a 24 hour convenience store - I'm pretty sure my main source of roughage was styrofoam), and constantly giving assurances that everything is fine even though I was about to crap myself if given five minutes of alone time.

Did it get finished? Within 1.5 hours of the deadline (which was 7 am in the morning, because the submission deadline was set to New York time).

How big was it? About 40 pages, with diagrams.

Were there complications? With about 72 hours to go, I got a "revision" which meant that I had to look over all my work again, making sure that any changes were incorporated into the final version.

Would I do it again? Only with a much larger pay.

Did you proofread it? No comment.

How long did it take? At least 100 hours.

Are there subtle clues in this post about the quality of the original material? No comment.

How good was the final output? The quality of English was very good. I'm a lot better than a so called professional company which I saw charging over $40USD per page and all they had done was to run Korean text through a machine then touch up here and there.

Are you expecting more of this kind of work? When I'm poor.

daisung

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Finally got to see the van Gogh exhibit today, and it's a very welcome thing, since I missed the chance to visit the van Gogh museum in Amsterdam, last November. So I made the 2 hour trip to Seoul Art Museum - impressions and bitching ensues...

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There was another 10 minute wait to get in to the exhibition.

In fact, the sheer number of people there created a phenomenon that I'd never seen before at an art exhibition. Take this painting for example - probably the most significant work there.

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This 1887 self portrait was on all of the publicity material and for the eagle-eyed among you, on the frigging TICKET. Yet, this painting was ignored because everyone was following everyone else in a giant, congested line and it wasn't on that path. In fact, it was almost totally ignored, despite being given a prominent position in the room, and being the only painting on that particular wall. Astounding.

Another thing I was really surprised about was the temperature, or more precisely, the lack of control over it. I imagine, with all that people, it must have been over 25 degrees easy, perhaps pushing 27 or 28, and the fact that it didn't cause the curators to immediately turn the air conditioning to full blast was puzzling. Heat can cause paintings to deteriorate faster and why they didn't intervene in any was was not something I understand. I was also disappointed by the fact that everything was behind glass (ok, they did a great job to keep any glare to a very small amount) but you do want to study the brush strokes if you can.

I was, however, pleasantly surprised by this:

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It was really something to see it in person. I really can't say anything else apart from that.

Afterwards, I got myself a free doughnut from a Krispy Kreme, and went home, satisfied.

More posts later (and soon).

daisung.

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Went on my first bungee jump on Saturday.

It was good.

I went to a park that had a bungee platform and promised myself that I would have a go sometime.

I harranged a person with a car (public transport is not an option here). And we arranged a day to go and arrived at the bungee platform.

It didn't look that high, maybe about 50m (it was 43) and I wasn't scared until I geared up and stood at the edge.

So naturally, I started asking too many silly questions (Has anyone been hurt? How should I jump? How much time till I reach the bottom). And needed a few minutes to compose myself.

Meanwhile the guy operating the jump is standing there, totally bored and non-plussed, and not really caring because he's seen it all.

He gave me a 5 second countdown, and I think I jumped at 2.

The first half second was terrifying and the only thought you have is 'FUCK'. Along with the undeniable feeling that death is upon you.

Then after you realise that you aren't going to die, you realise that you're so full of energy that you just want to burst. Really.

It's a wonderful feeling and the sensation of flying is something that never gets old for me.

After I came back down, the operators gave me a card, proving that I jumped, and on this card, they write down when you jumped. You can take the card back, and if you successfully jump 5 times, you get 1 jump free. That's insane.

I strapped a video camera to my wrist on my way down, so I'll post that when I'm not feeling lazy, but I do have pictures of people who jumped after me.

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Saw these things whilst on a day out near Bundang.

A shoebike!

Someone prefers the right foot - and zebra butt.

I looked inside the bike, and it doesn't look like people can stick their legs inside the zebra bit, but I suppose you can sit on top of where the legs are supposed to go down.

Believe it or not, after reading the writing, it's a recruiting tool for a hair salon.

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One thing I've noticed living here - people post their numbers on their windshields

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That small plaque there... let's take a closer look.

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Far from soliciting people, drivers post their numbers like this in case they're parked and away from their car. People can call the number in case their cars need moving.

Huh?

Parking space is limited to such an extent that it's often necessary to park in not-so-kosher spots. People can find their driveways blocked and instead of waiting, they can call the number on the car's windshield and get people to move their cars.

I would never do that - but people here don't seem to mind the privacy implications and I've never heard of people being harassed this way. In fact, there's a lot of things that would never fly in western countries, like having to supply ID (national identification card number) just to join a blog, or to buy things on the internet. The idea is that people can be held accountable for what they do.

It's do pervasive that it can't really be avoided if you want to do anything on the Korean internets.

Bummer.

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"Don't make sounds which do not even constitute speech!"

(Stop talking nonsense)

"My Ki is blocked"

(That's amazing / I can' believe it)

"That's great (not sarcastic)"

(That's commendable)

"That's great for you"

(Lucky bastard!)

"You will wear a bucket"

(You're going to be ripped off)

"My stomach hurts"

(I envy you)

"You have a high nose"

(You're posh)

"Hole shop"

(small grocery store)

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Korea is awash with rice.

They commonly say that they don't feel like they have eaten unless they've had rice. They say something is missing from a meal without rice. In fact, the word for rice "밥" can be used in place of the word for meal "식사" and they are also interchangeable. So when it came to localising fast food for the rice happy crowd, executives had to think of something special.

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It really is the kind of thing these guys would come up with in a haze of pot fueled script writing.

So I had to have one.

I went to my local Lotteria for a bite. I ordered mine without pickle because I think adding pickles is part of an international conspiracy against people with cucumber allergies.

Which resulted in...

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Got on a taxi, got to the airport, and caught the plane. The end.

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