Are you afraid of the future?
Not really. The worst thing that can happen in my future is that I can die. But if you're not afraid of death, then what's to worry about, yes?
Latest answers from Kevin Kim
If you were a natural disaster, what type of disaster would you be (and why)?
A hurricane. All bluster, but with a calm center.
Why are you doing this?
I found this site at random and got interested—simple as that. I'm doing this to be able to interact with readers in a forum that's somewhat different from blog comment threads. On my blog, I ask people to leave comments that are relevant to the posts they're commenting on, which means that any interaction with readers must necessarily be channeled in a specific direction. Here, the Q&A format is open. Anything goes, which makes this a more relaxed space in which to ask questions. It may also be a bit more of a personal format for interaction, although how personal it is may depend on how personal the questions are.
What kind of dish can you make/cook?
Already answered this.
Is there anything better about living in Daegu than Seoul?
Not that I can see. Technically, I lived in Hayang, a small town that is a satellite of Daegu. Hayang is so small that it doesn't even have its own movie theater; to see a flick, you have to take a bus and/or subway to Gyeongsan City or to Daegu proper. I liked walking around Hayang, but the scenery was quite limited.
Daegu wasn't bad, as big cities go, but for some reason, life in North Gyeongsang Province (Gyeong-buk for short) just didn't fit me. Maybe it was the ambient mentality of the people—a bit slower, a bit less dynamic. Maybe it was that damn southern accent, which I never got used to even after a year of living there.
Every time I took a trip up to Seoul, I felt energized the moment the train would arrive in Seoul Station. Seoul has always felt like the pulsing center, the heart of Korea, the Place Where Big Things Happen. That feeling, that energy, was lacking in Daegu.
Then, of course, there's the weather. Daegu's winter, last year, was disappointingly warm compared to Seoul's, and Daegu's summer is known throughout the peninsula for being extremely hot and humid. Seoul is bad in the summer too, granted, but not as bad as Daegu.
Finally, the thing that drove me most nuts was my students at the Catholic University of Daegu. I had one or two gems there, but for the most part, the kids couldn't find their asses if they farted. Catholic U. was a lower-tier school; it had plenty of money, and the campus was beautiful, but all that money seemed wasted as the school graduated battalion after battalion of dud students—dull, unmotivated zombies with no initiative, no sense of responsibility, no drive, and no curiosity about anything except their cell phones. That, more than anything, became so depressing to me that I knew I had to bugger out.
So on every count I can think of, Seoul kicks Daegu's ass. Some of the confirmed Daeguite expats I knew down there would counterargue that Seoul is way too crowded and dirty. Daegu is dirty, too, and Seoul's crowds are manageable once you figure out how best to avoid them.
Daegu wasn't bad, as big cities go, but for some reason, life in North Gyeongsang Province (Gyeong-buk for short) just didn't fit me. Maybe it was the ambient mentality of the people—a bit slower, a bit less dynamic. Maybe it was that damn southern accent, which I never got used to even after a year of living there.
Every time I took a trip up to Seoul, I felt energized the moment the train would arrive in Seoul Station. Seoul has always felt like the pulsing center, the heart of Korea, the Place Where Big Things Happen. That feeling, that energy, was lacking in Daegu.
Then, of course, there's the weather. Daegu's winter, last year, was disappointingly warm compared to Seoul's, and Daegu's summer is known throughout the peninsula for being extremely hot and humid. Seoul is bad in the summer too, granted, but not as bad as Daegu.
Finally, the thing that drove me most nuts was my students at the Catholic University of Daegu. I had one or two gems there, but for the most part, the kids couldn't find their asses if they farted. Catholic U. was a lower-tier school; it had plenty of money, and the campus was beautiful, but all that money seemed wasted as the school graduated battalion after battalion of dud students—dull, unmotivated zombies with no initiative, no sense of responsibility, no drive, and no curiosity about anything except their cell phones. That, more than anything, became so depressing to me that I knew I had to bugger out.
So on every count I can think of, Seoul kicks Daegu's ass. Some of the confirmed Daeguite expats I knew down there would counterargue that Seoul is way too crowded and dirty. Daegu is dirty, too, and Seoul's crowds are manageable once you figure out how best to avoid them.
Why do you answer questions from strangers?
I'm an introvert in many ways, but this is an interactional format that both satisfies my desire to communicate with people and keeps me at a distance from the madding crowd. And maybe there's an arrogant part of me that just likes being in a position where I'm answering questions instead of asking them.
What vegetable do you hate?
ONIONS! My ancient nemesis. I'm actually OK with onions in Korean food and other sorts of ethnic food, but I can't stand large-cut onions in hamburgers, spaghetti, or pizza. Disgusting.
Have you ever been in a fight?
Not since elementary school. But I've stopped plenty of fights. See here for a recent example:
http://bighominid.blogspot.kr/2013/06/wrong-place-right-time.html
http://bighominid.blogspot.kr/2013/06/wrong-place-right-time.html
What is with all the ball, dick and ass jokes?
What's with the lack of an Oxford comma?
Do you collect anything? If so, what is it?
Souls. I collect souls. The way Leland Gaunt does.
What question do you hate to answer?
"How much do you weigh?" "Why aren't you married?" Basically, personal questions that Koreans normally ask when they're being fucking pricks. Which is often.