While my family was in South Korea recently for our youngest and quietest daughter’s senior trip, from which she brought home the country’s entire inventory of cosmetic products, I noticed several things that Korea does better than we do here in the U.S., namely toilet technology, public transportation hygiene and professional baseball diversions (i.e., cheerleaders).
But there were also a few things that I missed about America (other than chips and salsa) while I was expanding my cultural, culinary and K-Pop horizons in South Korea.
First, I noticed something missing from my South Korean dining experiences. Anyone who has witnessed the spectacle of my eating knows that napkins are not optional for me. Although my goal is always to direct as much food into my mouth as possible, it inevitably winds up in unintended regions. This situation is even more acute when I practice with chopsticks.
In South Korea, if any napkins were to be found, they were usually hidden in a little underwear drawer at the end of the dining table, and they were about the size of a standard Post-it note. So when I had japchae noodles hanging off my ears and developed a kimchi mustache, I had to pilfer every miniature paper product in sight to make myself slightly presentable again. At the end of the meal, I’d have an embarrassingly massive pile of used napkin-ish thingies beside my plate as if I had performed extensive surgery on a large plate of dak-galbi, which was pretty much true.
Speaking of soiled paper products, public trash cans in South Korea are about as rare as anyone who doesn’t try to do the invisible horse dance when they hear that “Gangnam Style” song. Since many cities in South Korea are very walkable, my wife and I found ourselves hauling our garbage around like a spoiled chihuahua. And for some reason, instead of fully experiencing this unique aspect of South Korean culture, our daughter would instinctively hand her trash to me, as if she felt I needed a greater purpose in life. Ironically, despite the scarcity of trash cans, we saw almost no litter, so either the South Korean people are generally very neat and respectful of their surroundings, or they were all laughing at us because we didn’t know where they hid the secret dumpsters.
Finally, when we checked into our hotel rooms in Seoul and Busan, my goal was always to beat my wife in a foot race to the bathrooms, which I noticed are not furnished with washcloths. Apparently, in South Korea, washcloths aren’t a “thing.” You get a bath towel, a hand towel and whatever you bring with you to scrub your face and other territories. For me, this meant that my extensive exfoliation routine would have to wait until I was back home in the land of loofahs.
Overall, these minor inconveniences didn’t detract from an unforgettable vacation. We found South Korea to be a beautiful country with great food, wonderful people and striking landscapes. In fact, I hope to return to South Korea someday, and when I do, I’ll be sure to pack some napkins, washcloths and a stash of chips and salsa.
— Jase Graves
Jason (Jase) Graves is a national award-winning humor columnist, a married father of three daughters, a lifelong resident of Longview, Texas, and a Texas A&M Aggie. He writes about home and family issues from a humorous perspective for the Cagle Cartoons syndicate and his blog. Other than writing, his primary hobby is sleeping as late as possible. His winning Nickie’s Prize for Humor Writing essay, “The Sisterhood of the Giggling Rants,” is included in Sisters! Bonded by Love and Laughter, published by the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop. His piece, “Victoria’s Worst-Kept Secret,” is included in Chicken Soup for the Soul: My Crazy Family.