Chuseok

Chuseok is the Korean equivalent of Thanksgiving. Everyone leaves to go back to their hometown to visit their family as well as their ancestors’ graves. It is one of the most important holidays in Korea, and this year I was given the chance to participate in it.

I have the good fortune of having a very sweet Korean roommate who had the kindness in her heart to invite my French roommate and I to go to her hometown of Mokpo for the Chuseok holiday. This is a big honor and it was one that I took very seriously.

When you are invited into a Korean’s home, it is customary to bring a present to your host. The type of present varies in different situations, but the general rule of thumb is to get them something useful. The general gift for Chuseok is a type of rice called 송편(songpyeon), but since the trip to Mokpo was long, and we wouldn’t be meeting the parents immediately, I didn’t want to get something that would spoil. Both of my roommate’s parents love golf, so I decided to give both of them golf balls (Texas Tech themed of course!). I decided on giving the father a golf club cover and a pair of pearl earrings to the mother.

Some songpyeon.

In order to get down to Mokpo, we decided to take a bus. Also, to avoid any Chuseok traffic, we left late Thursday night, the day before the Chuseok holiday would begin. Taking the red-eye bus to Mokpo landed us there at about 3 a.m. By the time we got to the home, we were so exhausted we just plopped into bed.

The next day (after a late start of course), was a day to ourselves since my roommate’s parents weren’t home yet. We traveled around Mokpo shopping and do general “girl” things, as well as take in the sites of the beautiful ocean as well as Mokpo’s famous man-made waterfall.

After a day to just us, we found ourselves in bed at a late yet again (Korea television is quite entertaining). This ended up being bad idea.

At 9 a.m., I hear a gentle knock at the door, which is quickly opened. I pry my eyes open to see a middle aged women, my roommates mother, peeking through the door. She smiles at me,

“Good morning! Good morning!” She fully opens the door and looks at my groggy eyes. “Good morning! Hungry? You hungry? Yes?”

Still not sure what was going on, I nod my head, and her hand stretches out towards mine, and pulls me out of bed.

“Good morning! Hungry? Yes?” She says while pulling me into the living room.

My eyes instantly shoot open as I look at the table before me filled with food.

From 불고기 (Bulgogi, marinated beef), to crab, to 떡 (ddeok, rice cake), the table was filled with an incredible assortment of foods. My friends really hadn’t been joking when they said that Chuseok was a glutinous holiday.

“많이 먹어요!” “(manhi meokeoyo!, Please eat a lot!)” She says to me as she sits me down at the table.

Still in morning confusion, I can’t decide where to start with the plethora of food in front of me. My roommate’s mother grabs my plate and begins piling on the food. After the plate is nearly overflowing, she hands it back to me. I notice that she has given me a generous portion of bulgogi (many Koreans know that this is typically a foreigner’s favorite food), and I’m glad she did. I take one bit of the tender beef, and my mouth is in heaven. It was spicy yet sweet, salty and yet juicy, and ever so tender. After the bulgogi, I go for the steamed crab, which never fails to put me in a food coma.

Eventually, the rest of house wakes up, and we all eat the feast prepared for us. After the meal, we all turn my roommate’s mother and say, “잘 먹었습니다!” (“jal meokeott soopnida!” “I ate well!”

The remaining days were genuine food induced comas with one giant meal following the next. It was hard to believe that our time was up. Before we head to the train station, we all sit down and take pictures together.

“Sank you! Sank you! Come again! Have fun!” My roommate’s mother says to us as we headed to the bus station. “안녕히 가세요!” (annyeonghi gaseayo, good-bye)

“안녕히 걔세요!” (annyeonghi gyeseayo, good-bye).

We all wave our good-byes, excited and happy, yet sad that our time is already up.