A visit to the Jagalchi Fish Market in Busan, South Korea

November 7, 2009 7:08 PM
Ungbee Guan (alternate spelling) - Room 303
Pusan National University

Jagalchi Fish Market

O.K. We're back in our room again after two amazing days. I'll start with yesterday when we had a planned excursion to the Jalagachi Fish Market. Marjorie's class was supposed to meet us at the Nampo-Dong subway station – exit 10 (the exits are all numbered so meeting someone is relatively easy), and they were going to “take” us to the Jalagachi Fish Market (“take” is in parentheses because there was never any doubt in my mind that anything we did that cost money would require us to pay). Anyway, the fish market is the largest one in Busan – a city noted for its seafood – and possibly the largest in Korea. Once the original plan was set, one girl reported that she was unable to come because she had a class that day. On Thursday, I met another student outside the University and she confirmed that she would see us on Friday. Friday morning we got up early and caught the campus bus to the subway station. We were able to have the people in the information booth activate the lift that rides up the incredibly long staircase to the platform,    so Marjorie arrived on the platform without being breathless. This lift is really something to see. It travels up the stairs at a pace somewhat slower than a disabled snail, playing Christmas music the entire way, and the attendant has to follow along carrying the wired control box. However, it sure beats climbing the stairs.

With a burst of upbeat, jolly music, the arrival of the train was announced and we began our long voyage to Nampo-Dong – it's just about the last stop on our line, with PNU being close to the first stop.

We finally arrived at the Nampo-Dong station (which at this point was deep underground) and, having taken a clue from the airlines, we discover that exit 10 was at the complete other end of the station – approximately 5 miles away. So, we started walking, and walking and walking! Marjorie soon lost patience and stopped in the Information booth to find out where – exactly – exit 10 was. This was not easy to do, since the clerk did not speak English, and Marjorie's Korean is non-existent. She came out of the office with the clerk in tow and told me she thought he said that exit 10 was closed. She didn't know why it was closed, or what we should do next. With this bit of hearsay information I decided that our most sensible course was to continue following the signs to exit 10 and see for ourselves once we got there. The clerk continued along with us, hovering and chattering away and waving his arms about. I ignored this and continued on. We finally got to a branch in the tunnel with signs pointing to exit 10 and other signs clearly saying CLOSED. The clerk was waving his arms around and seemed to be saying that we should be taking another exit that was back the way we came. So we started back. As we passed one exit fairly close to the information booth, the clerk indicated that we
should take that exit and then he went back into his office.
Marjorie and I stood there a moment contemplating our options, since the class was going to meet us at street-level by exit 10 and we were in unfamiliar territory and did not know how we would find exit 10 once we got up to the street. Right then, although without the blast of heavenly trumpets usually accompanying such situations, Hu Joon, one of Marjorie's students, came racing around the corner and skidded to a stop in front of us.

(Hu Joon is a Biology major who speaks excellent English, is learning Cantonese on his own, has applied to Cambridge and been granted an interview, and spent the 2 days before our serendipitous subway meeting in Seoul because he had just won an award as one of the 100 best, most promising university students in Korea! Next week he's scheduled to meet the president of Korea. And, he's smart, personable, interested in everything, and a delight to be with.)

Hu Joon reported that the girl I had seen in town the day before now had a cold and would not be joining us. A second girl couldn't come because her brother had some kind of accident and she was at the hospital with him. The third and final party we were expecting was not coming because she had a class in the afternoon. So, it looked like it was only the three of us.

We decided to get up to the street and go for a cup of coffee while we tried to develop Plan B. Hu Joon confirmed that the information from the clerk was correct and we proceeded to the subway exit. We turned a corner only to find a stairway with an extremely small circle of light at the top – which we could barely make out in the distance. However, there was a lift. So Marjorie asked Hu Joon to walk back to the information booth and request the use of the lift. Hu Joon took off and in a few moments returned with the clerk who said we couldn't use the lift. The claim was that it was only for wheelchairs. But we knew from the last one that it had a seat. It was unclear why we couldn't use the lift but there you are. So we asked about an escalator and received a negative reply – there wasn't one. Then we asked about an elevator and received the same negative reply.  Marjorie said, ”I can do it, I'll just go slowly.”  This was not an option!

So, I decided that I would go back to the information booth with the clerk and see if I could intimidate his boss enough to use the lift. The three of us, Hu Jun, the clerk and I made our way back to the information booth and after some brief exchanges which were not understood by either party I guessed that the “boss” was concerned that something might happen and Marjorie would get injured and we would sue the subway system, Busan, South Korea and probably the United Nations. I assured him that we would not sue them even if the lift turned into a mechanized Sorcerer's Apprentice and turned Marjorie into hamburger. He reluctantly gave the key to the clerk and we returned to the lift. The clerk turned it on, Marjorie got on, and the infernal machine docilely ascended the stairs.

Once at the top we walked a couple of blocks to a beautiful street set up like a pedestrian mall – except there were cars driving on it. The street was lined with shops displaying world-famous logos – Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, etc., etc. – and Hu Joon explained that you couldn't open a shop on this street unless you were selling some kind of internationally recognized brand.

The street itself was serpentine, paved with various colored bricks and studded with droll brass statues of a pig, a dog, people on a park bench, etc.

After a short walk we came to a coffee shop where we went in an ordered bagels and cream cheese – toasted, and café Americano – black. The clerk took our order & my money and gave me a receipt and a hockey puck with a red button in the center. Hu Joon and I walked over to the table Marjorie had selected and sat down. After a few minutes the hockey puck began buzzing and flashing red lights circled around it. I returned it to the counter and exchanged it for our order.

Once settled in our booth, Hu Joon began a frantic series of phone calls. It turned out that one of the young ladies who had an afternoon class was, in fact, on the subway to Nampo-Dong and would arrive in five minutes or so. Furthermore, the lady whose brother was in the hospital was also on the subway and would arrive in about 20 minutes. 

Hu Joon jumped up and said he was going to collect the first girl from the subway station since he couldn't adequately explain where we were, and off he went. He returned shortly with the young lady in tow. She placed her order, and when it was ready, Hu Joon took off again to pick up the remaining member of our expedition.

Well, we sat in the coffee shop talking for about 45 minutes and then decided it was time to go to the fish market. A short walk and a long crossing of an extremely broad street brought us under a huge arch that said Welcome to Jagalchi Fish Market.

The advance press was not wrong. This was a huge out door fish market that stretched for blocks and blocks with live fish, dead fish, cleaned fish, shellfish, octopi, squids, sea urchins, and some things I couldn't identify.

We ambled along looking at the large fish, small fish, anchovies, sharks and rays all either in tanks, or pans of water, or on ice, or on chopping blocks being cleaned. We saw shrimp of every size – including the much-vaunted tiger shrimp usually found off Thailand, oysters the size of dinner plates – really! – clams, mussels, crabs too large to fit in a back-pack, baby octopi, and octopi with heads as large as yours.

The street was incredibly crowded with Koreans picking out their dinners and water flowed everywhere.

After a while, someone brought up the idea of lunch and after a brief discussion it was decided to go to a raw fish restaurant. Hu Joon's father had a friend who owned such a restaurant back near where we had entered the market so we headed back that way.

We entered this warehouse-sized building that was pretty much a repetition of what we had seen outside. Fish and shellfish in tanks, in buckets, in pans – and the floor soaking wet. Along the aisles between the fishmongers were aluminum tables and benches. Hu Jun soon found the right stall, but found out his father's friend had left for the day (since his day started at 3:00 A.M.), however, the man in charge seemed accommodating and assured Hu Joon he would take care of us as he guided us to one of “his” tables.

We sat down, ordered SoJu – since that is what one drinks with raw fish, and the obligatory side-dishes of kimchee, garlic, hot green chilies, and soy sauce with a lump of wasabi in it were delivered to our table.
Then the fish started to arrive. It was great – at least if you like that kind of food. This feast cost less than $100.00, which is not bad for an “all-you-can-eat” sashimi extravaganza for 5 people including a bottle of liquor and a soda.

While we were eating, Hu Jun revealed that he lived on Yongdo Island, across the bay that had an interesting park, Taejongdae. The girl who had the afternoon class announced that she had to leave – even though it was already after 3:00 and we were really far from the University – made her apologies and left. We ambled out onto the boardwalk continuing to discuss whether we should go to island. The day was beautiful, the sun was out and glinting off the water, the weather was warm, and as we stepped onto the boardwalk the unmistakable strains of “Hotel California” filled the air. A street performer (guitarist) had set up huge speakers on the boardwalk and was preparing a performance. We walked on until Marjorie found a bench for a sit-down which happened to be right in front of this hippy-looking young man who was sitting on the ground in ripped jeans feeding the pigeons with snacks from a plastic bag.

They were corn-curls, but instead of corn they were rice curls. The pigeons were gobbling down the food while warily eyeing the young man. Marjorie said, “Why don't you see if they'll eat out of your hand?” and so he began offering the rice curls out while still holding on to one end. The pigeons were very nervous, but they really wanted the food. They ran up and then turned away at the last moment. Finally, one brave one snatched the proffered treat and swallowed it whole. Since he wasn't eaten by the young man, the other pigeons gained some courage and soon there were many of them racing up and snatching the rice curls right out of his fingers. In a few moments the bag was empty and the show was over.

We decided to go on to Hu Joon's island and caught a cab to take us over the bridge.

The cab let us off at the base of a really steep mountain in a beautiful park. There was a tram there and we decided to take it to the top and see what the park had to offer.
The tram was about the size and shape of a cement truck, painted bizarrely in cartoon colors and towing a number of tram cars behind it.
Naturally, the ticket office was up a steep hill which we managed to climb, bought the tickets, boarded the tram, and we were off!

The tram didn't go much more than about 5 miles per hour – because it couldn't. The road was too steep. We wound our way through deep woods with sheer drops to the sea on one side. We had intermittent glimpses of the harbor and the “roads” loaded with large and small fishing boats.
The larger ones were the size of container ships with open backs to drag the nets back up onto the boats. The smaller ones were the size of large cabin cruisers and obviously owner-operated.

Near the top we got off the tram at an observatory where we could see all the ships more clearly, and even see one of the outlying islands of Japan.

There were also a number of signs about suicide, since this mountain seems to
be a favorite place for that sport

The trip down was punctuated by the setting sun glinting through the trees and splashing a golden slash across the water.

Once down at the bottom, we said our goodbyes and Marjorie and I took a cab home.

The Villa!

O.K. Now we're up to today's adventure.

For reasons that remain cloaked in obscurity, a PNU Professor Yong Whan Kim, who teaches Buddhism and Indian Philosophy invited Marjorie and I to his villa for the day.

The villa is located about a 45 minute drive from PNU, and he picked us up at 9 this morning in his Volvo. He stopped to pick up his wife at his apartment house – near PNU, and off we went. (He could use some driving lessons). After the drive on superhighways similar to what you would find in the U.S. – including the Korean version of EZ Pass –we entered an area of some pretty tortuous curves and switchbacks winding through steep hills on small back roads. We passed a huge new ski resort (there is no snow in the Busan area, but they make artificial snow), and then we arrived at his villa.

The villa is not like anything you would find in the US. It is two buildings, located in a beautiful valley. One is his house, pictured on the left, and the other is a round, tower-like structure whose only furnishings are a large stuffed polar bear in the upstairs picture window. O.K. Different cultures, different values.

However, his house is really spectacular. Totally minimalist with almost no furniture, only carefully and tastefully selected object d'arte on the walls and against the walls: an antique Chinese bookshelf; a painting here and there, a modern kitchen and a modern bathroom, no tables, no chairs, no sofas, no TV.

The front yard is two gardens, charmingly arranged around little paths, which he planted and tends, and the back yard has a vegetable garden growing cabbage, hot peppers, and some other veggies. He has a stand of black bamboo (it has black trunks) and many specimen pine trees, shrubs, flowering plants. He's a very interesting fellow who seems to be trying to live his life according to Confucian recommendations. His English is pretty good, so we were able to communicate quite easily. His much-younger wife has very little English, but seems like a nice-enough person, although a “city-girl” as I remarked and she agreed.

Anyway, as soon as we arrived, she unloaded the trunk and disappeared into the kitchen while we relaxed on his “front” deck – facing the road. The area is absolutely gorgeous. His villa is in a valley surrounded by imposing mountains covered with evergreens interspersed with the occasional deciduous tree which is in the process of changing color.

We sat and talked and enjoyed the view and our host brought out some home-made wine – which I think was made from plums.

Marjorie was totally impressed with the persimmon trees which, at this time of year, are loaded with fruit but bereft of leaves.

Soon we were joined by a Professor Won who is a paleo-micro biologist.
I asked her if she was dedicated to reconstructing Tyrannosaurus Rex, but she denied it.

She was actually a very interesting person and told the following story.

She has a sister who lives (lived) in New Jersey with her husband. Her mother is constantly asking her why she doesn't get married. Her mother pointed out that the sister had a husband to shovel the snow in the winter, and Professor Won's response was, “But it doesn't snow in Busan”.

Lunch was served, and it was Shabu-Shabu. Once again, everyone remarked on how well we use chopsticks. The lunch was really terrific.  We both enjoyed it tremendously.

After lunch we moved to the back yard where the professor began burning leaves. He threw some sweet potatoes into the fire and we sat and talked and enjoyed the smell of burning leaves while the potatoes baked. They came out delicious!

By now it was time to return to PNU and we helped pack up the dishes, remaining food and loaded the car while Professor Kim locked up the house.

We drove for about ten minutes and then pulled off the highway and stopped in a dirt parking area by the side of the road. Professor Kim said, “I wanted to show you Professor Won's house”. We got out of the car, and followed him around an imposing concrete wall topped by Chinese-style tiles and came to a small gate in the wall. Professor Kim led us through the gate into a yard where a family of painters was varnishing the wood on a wood and stucco building. There were two other buildings in the enclosure, and Professor Kim led us to the larger one, around the side to the front door where we met Professor Won.

The interior of the house was completely unfurnished with gleaming wood floors and walls, and exposed massive beams supporting the tile roof. By-the-way, NO nails or screws were used in the construction of this house. All the pieces of wood are notched and fitted together.

Professor Won has a modern kitchen and bathroom, but the rest of the house was a re-creation of a traditional Korean house.

She has three heating systems, one electric which heated a huge tank of water at night when the rates are lower, another a pretty standard-looking oil burner, and, the one she uses most of the time, and old-time ongol system. She builds a wood fire outside in a fireplace set into the outside of the wall. Once the logs are burning, she shuts the iron door, and air heated by the fire spreads throughout pipes in the floor of her house. She claims that one load of wood (three or four medium sized logs) will keep the house warm all night (we have a similar system in our apartment, but not heated by wood.). It must work pretty well since there are no beds in the house and she sleeps on a sleeping mat on the floor.

She also has a very pretty garden outside her house with a small pond in it, but she says she has not had the time to do much with it.

While chatting with Professor Won, she revealed that she is 60 years old and will be facing retirement sometime soon. She sure doesn't look her age!

We said our good-byes, mounted up and returned to PNU where Professor Kim dropped us at Umbeeguan.

-- The End  --