Yangsan's First Expat Bar, Faux Sushi, and a Street Market

Last night The Female Kiwi (who agrees that she needs a better pseudonym...I'm working on it), The Hooligan and I met up at Yangsan's first expat bar, The Hemingway. Perhaps a cliched name but considering the universal facts of expat life it does seem appropriate. I went a bit overboard with my camera. I was taking pictures in color accent mode which does cool things in full light but made most of these photos turn out mostly black and white with awesome blue accents from the lighting.
Also, since I failed to ask anyone if they minded having their photo on my blog the only evidence you get to see of the night out is this lovely picture of feet. Not even my feet but The Female Kiwi and The Celestially Inclined Brit. ...I have not had enough coffee to be coming up with pseudonyms me thinks. I hope the Celestially Inclined Brit doesn't read this blog or is amused by my need for more caffeine. I blame the paint fumes for lowering my brain cell count!!!! I don't have enough to lose!What's this you ask? Obviously not the bar but on a street post down the way. Gang signs Korean style--hang up some dried fish. Oh yeah.

This afternoon I had a craving for sushi. I had been watching Lost in Translation (and giggling like mad because apparently the problems Westerners have in Japan aren't all that different from the issues here) and got an insatiable craving. I remembered seeing a sign for fusion sushi downtown so off I went. It was the worst sushi ever. It does not deserve to be called sushi. What is a California roll without avocado I ask?! Ironically, the fish was really fresh...it was just that it was on top of an inside out mini kimbap roll (ham, radish, fish paste) and then smothered in MUSTARD and MAYONNAISE. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. Luckily I was so hungry that I managed to force down enough food so they wouldn't think I was being insulting by not eating it. They might have gotten a hint though from the faces I was making. Oh well.

Down the street from me they set up a market a few days a week. Fish, veggies, fruit, kim (seaweed) and the works. I got mini dried anchovies and a giant box of strawberries. The fish guy told me I was very beautiful (in English) and I replied in Korean that his fish were very yummy. He smiled and gave me an extra handful for free. Everyone seemed please to see me out and about, doing something so Korean like shopping at the local market. Getting treated well always makes my day and made up for the fact that an old lady half sat on me on the bus. At least she was a Korean lady...an American might have caused serious damage.