Well, I Finally Met My Boss...

So the faculty (I really get off on considering myself part of a "faculty") of the school I work at was taken out to dinner last night, on the dime of the director, the allegedly stern, conservative, and opinionated Mr. Pok, whom I had never met. He owns the chain of eleven english academies in Busan, one of which I work at. We rode over around 10 o'clock, to a traditional Korean restaurant. There were about twenty of us, all Korean except for myself, and three of my American coworkers. We all sat on cushions on the floor at a long table, and old waitresses began literally filling the table with all sorts of dishes....cabbage kim-chi, lettuce kim-chi, red bean paste, sesame oil, raw onions, blocks of tofu, beans of some sort, a salad of green onions and hot sauce, more hot sauce, oysters, and, the main course...pork belly! Yes, I had had cow stomach before, but never stomach of pig. And, I gotta say, I'm a convert. Its like a very fatty, chewy bacon. And we grilled it ourselves on the table.

The table was also lined with bottles of beer and soju, the Korean national beverage, a 20% alcohol wine/liquor which tastes exactly like watered down vodka. You shoot it. In Korean culture, if the event is at all formal, one never fills their own glass, and when receiving or giving/pouring a drink, you put your other hand on the arm being used. Don't ask me why...all I know is, is that if you forget and just fill your own glass, or forget the hand on the arm thing, you will attract mildly offended eyes and the clearing of throats. I know from experience. So, the alcohol poured freely; Koreans like to drink. It might be the national past time.

Mr. Pok showed up and Chris and I immediately stood up and awkwardly half-bowed, which caused everyone, including Mr. Pok, to burst into laughter. He was seated near me, which made me think I should lay off the soju and make sure I didn't do anything remotely clumsy/stupid. Turns out, Mr. Pok is a very cool guy, and didn't let me get away with laying off the booze. In fact, he was pouring shots for our side of the table about every five minutes. I was beginning to really like the guy. He didn't seem like a jerk about anything, and was very friendly, and for some reason, very impressed with my command of the two Korean words I know. We had an excellent conversation on why Led Zeppelin is the greatest band in the world, and the nuanced differences within their corpus, such as their treatment of subjects as diverse as hard and heavy sex, like in "Black Dog," to exploration of Celtic folk music and mysticism, like "The Battle of Evermore" and "Stairway to Heaven." He is also, evidently, a big fan of Thin Lizzy, which instantly puts anyone in my "cooler than anyone else" category. We stayed away from political discourse, as I was warned beforehand that he is an ardent supporter of former President George W. Bush's foreign policy, which would place him squarely in the "dumber than a bag of hair and as morally lucid as Charles Manson" category. But it was great to enjoy mutual enjoyment of Don Fogerty and Frank Zappa with my boss. I was able to chat up some of my coworkers, as well, and was seated across from the one I sort of have a thing for. After she started drinking, she opened up like a can of beans and wanted to know everything about me. It's fun to be treated as an exotic artifact from a far away place. I don't mind the attention at all. They were really tickled by the fact that I studied religion in school, for some reason. So we ate and ate and ate...they were all impressed at the velocity with which I was wolfing down the food, and seemed all surprised that I liked it at all. I love Korean food.

After the meal, with everyone red-faced, sloppy, and laughing hysterically (including my usually stone-faced manager at the school) we stumbled down the street to a karoake bar. I thought to myself "how cliche!" Once arriving in our private karoake room, we were all seated around in a big half circle, and a waitress began bringing in trays full of beers. I thought to myself "oh god...I'm going to make an ass of myself tonight..." Everyone got a beer, and Mr. Pok went around the group one by one, and everyone had to chug the beer. No one was able to chug the whole thing in one fell swoop, except.....your's truly! I took the whole thing down and slammed the beer can on the table, emitting a large, greasy, sweaty belch. (Mom, seriously...how proud are you of me now?)

Mr. Pok immediately began clapping and hooting and yelling in Korean, and came over and slapped me on the back, very approvingly. It was so surreal! So, us three English speaking guys had to start the night of singing off, and we picked "Beat It" by Michael Jackson. It was very hard for me to not do the obvious hand gestures...I thought that would be going too far. And, yes, Dan, I played air guitar to the Eddie Van Halen solo, replete with meticulous attendance to the two-hand tapping parts. The Koreans LOVED that.

So, we butchered that, which was evidently the funniest thing the Koreans had ever seen, and sat down while they did their cheesy Korean ballads. I also did "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley, my standard, and also, uninvited, sang the breakout 1980s single "Take On Me" by AHA with Mr. Pok, which was funny because that was the first song I ever did at karaoke, years ago, on my 22nd birthday in Portland. So, after another hour or two and too many beers later, we all left, and I walked home, stopping at the store for orange juice before coming home and literally falling into bed.

I think I'm going to like it here.

Happy Trails!