Saturday, October 15, 2011

Makkoli Party

There is a big sign on the front of the hotel welcoming the return Peace Corps Volunteers to Korea.  Tonight we all gathered and walked to a restaurant where we had the second floor to ourselves.  Low lights and part of a tile roof from the original building were part of the decor along with a wonderful collection of clay pots.  We sat at tables and the tough people drank Makkoli.  This is an alcoholic beverage that is white and cloudy. In earlier days, it was always home made and every batch was different.  Made from fermented rice flour or sometimes cornmeal, it could end up having many other ingredients depending on whether it had a top on the vat or not.  There was a story amongst the TB volunteers that when some of the medicine went missing from their health center, that the Makkoli had a very strange taste.

Back then, I was know for drinking a little alcohol.  In fact, prior to 1979, I drank a lot of alcohol.  Since then the score is ZERO.  But I learned quickly not to drink makkoli because the alcohol content varied to the point that we could never trust that we would not get hammered on the first three sips.  So I stuck to beer and bad scotch.

Tonight we talked of many things.  Only one woman from my group is here, but there are other people that I know from other places.  We ate kimchi pancakes and small pickled cucumbers and in my case, drank the water.  There are people who wont even drink water in Vermont, but I am of the opinion that I can drink it here.  I didn't in the 70s.  

The walk back in the rain was easy.  My room was waiting for me.  And the walls were not spinning from too much makkoli.

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