Kimchi Chronicles: Bring the Heat
The Koreans think Waygooks (외국 - foreigners) eating spicy food is hilarious.
Koreans (in Korea anyways) are filled with pride when it comes to their traditional dishes. (And for good reason. It’s delicious!) That cup runneth over when it’s a Waygook about to take their first bite of an extra spicy dish.
김치 (kimchi) is fermented vegetables seasoned with 고추가루 (gochugaru - chili powder), spring onions, garlic, ginger and 젓갈 (jeotgal - salted shrimp or anchovies). Traditionally, it’s stored in-ground using large clay pots but these days, special kimchi refrigerators are used. There are hundreds of different kinds of kimchi but the most widely known internationally is the one pictured above using napa cabbage. About 6 months into my first year, I ate a piece of bad kimchi. It tasted like formaldehyde and unfortunately, I haven’t been able to fully enjoy kimchi since then.
The table renders silent, chopsticks frozen in the air mid-thrust, your lunchmates leaning in just that little bit extra to watch you take a bite of something they don’t think you can handle.
Little do they know that I spent a large part of my youth hanging out with Latinos. And Latinos eat spicy food. I don’t like to brag (Ha! Yes, I do!) I have been developing my tolerance for the last 15 years and I can handle a spicy punch.
But also, why must you stare at the Waygook?! It was cute at first - sweet even - but heading into my third year, the novelty has worn off. I am not an exhibit at a zoo. My 젓가락 (jeotkarak - chopstick) skills are decent, you literally see me 5 days of the week… Stop staring at me while I eat!
Depending on my mood, I play this up or down.
If I’m not in the mood to be the source of entertainment, I defiantly ignore the gawking. Making no eye contact, I take a healthy bite. Chew. Swallow.
I stay neutral.
I do not react.
Even if it means my tongue has turned black, my esophagus is burning with the heat of Dante’s inferno and my intestines are coiling tighter than a python around its prey. I refuse to give them the satisfaction even if it’s at my own expense.
If I’m in a good mood (which is most days) I’ll break out my best Jim Carrey impression:
“Hawoooga! That’s a spicy-a-meat-a-ball!”
They laugh. I laugh. And together we laugh.
Kimchi Chronicles are stories and memories collected while living in the rural village of Beolgyo and country-side city of Gwangyang, South Korea.