(I can recognize that my view of Korea can only extend to what I've seen with my own eyes. To bring as wide and unbiased a view as possible to the readers of this blog, I've been asking friends to write guests posts detailing their opinions, stories, or exploits that will help 'round out' the Korean adventure. I hope to have a guest post once a month or so, starting with this story from my friend Sarah)
Hana Min, appeared at my desk after lunch. “Candy time,” she said. I knew she wanted me to eat the candy from the Philippines she had given me earlier in the day. I told her I would save it for after lunch, not thinking much about it.
In hindsight, I should have been more curious as to why it was so important that I eat this candy. I took the confection out of my top desk drawer and began to unwrap it. “Wait,” Hana said as she took both my hands in hers. “Umm..Umm…Umm,” she said as she glanced around the teacher’s room. “Should I eat it?” I asked. She paused and then let my hands go and gestured for me to continue.
I chewed the candy and it tasted sweet with no real identifiable flavor. She watched as I chewed. I smiled and she smiled. I lifted my upper jaw and bit down again; I tasted gasoline. "Oh, it's so delicious. Do you like it?" Hana inquired.
Her words failed to register at first and I continued chewing. I lied and said, “What? Oh, yes. Delicious.” The putrid taste infected my salvia and burned as it traveled down my esophagus and into my stomach.
My palms sweated and my heart fluttered in response to this oddity of a food substance.
Eight others eyes were now on me. The smell of gasoline had filled the teacher’s room. Four Korean teachers flocked to my desk and questioned Hana.
I was still chewing the candy and thought to myself, death by candy would make for an interesting obituary. As everyone jabbered in foreign tongues, I turned to Google. In 0.19 seconds, I learned my fate. The omniscient Google told me I had been exposed to durian and it was not fatal.
(Sidebar) Durian is a type of fruit found throughout Southeast Asia and it is known for its offensive odor. In some places it has been banned. Words used to describe the taste include, raw sewage and turpentine.
Phew! The candy tasted like turpentine; I did not eat a turpentine candy.
“It’s OK! It’s OK!” I exclaimed to those who feuded behind my chair.
Luckily, an English teacher had been summoned by then to translate and I told her that it was OK.
She explained the situation to the Korean teachers and Hana was ousted to the hallway. I was instructed not to eat food from Hana and swallowed the candy a moment later.
With a new outlook on my day, I gathered my tooth brushing gear and headed for the bathroom. Hana sulked in the hallway and I paused to thank her for the candy. She hugged me in return.
“It’s OK, Hana. It’s OK.” I said. We parted ways and candy time ended just as quickly as it began.
Sarah is a middle school teacher here in Daegu, whom I met at teacher training a year ago. Sadly she'll be leaving us to go back to the US next month :(
