Why I really want a freaking dryer right about now

I need to be packed for China in fewer than 24 hours, yet I won't have dry clothes. I washed a load this morning, and set it out on the rack, leaving my heat on while I was at work. I came back tonight and not even the t-shirts are dry. I feel I'm going to be sitting on my floor with a hairdryer at 4am tomorrow while I desperately try to get the clothes dry enough to pack.

Many Koreans do without dryers. In the beginning this was a-okay with me, since I'm a fan of air-drying. My apartment came with a good sized drying rack, and just enough room in the back patio area for it to be set up. With the summer sun and large window, my clothes dried within a day. However, 'summer' came. I use quotes because in my mind, rain doesn't happen in summer. Every other day of the year, yes. For weeks at a time? Yes. With darkness and gloom? Boy, I miss it. But it does not rain in July and August. Those are the vitamin D days. Not so in Korea. Summer is rainy season. And that brings moisture and humidity. Drying started to take longer. And longer.

The weather cooled down for a pleasant autumn. I thoroughly enjoyed all three weeks of our beautiful fall weather. Drying time was down to a respectable amount of time. Then 'winter' came. The quotes are used this time to allow the reader to know this is not winter. It's living in an ice cube tray. Clothes don't dry, they freeze. I put a load in this afternoon before leaving for work and came home to find it in a frozen lump in the bottom of the washer. I had to move my drying rack to my main room because my clothes would take three or more days to dry. Now, if I need to get to my dresser, I move the rack. Then when I want to go to bed, I move the rack again.

Cozy, right?

In the main room, with the heat on, they dry within two days. This still takes careful forethought, planning for what clothes will be needed in the upcoming week. I don't do that. Because it is such a hassle, I wait until my laundry basket is full and cram it all in the washer, sometimes not even bothering to sort darks and lights. Sometimes my lack of planning results in my having to do two loads, which is too many clothes for the rack to handle. Then it looks like my closet has thrown up all over the walls because I need to hang things from hooks.

When my parents came to visit, their hotel had a dryer. I did not take advantage of it and am kicking myself. I wonder if the desk staff would notice if I just went in now and used it. Maybe they'd think I'm a guest. With that dryer, I could rule the world. Warm, fluffy clothes can do a lot for a person.

Korean Peculiarities: Frozen Pipes

For the second time this winter, I have no hot water. Literally, no water. Turning the faucet to the cold side gives me icy water, but as soon as I inch it over to hot, nothing. The water stops flowing. Sometimes a few drops will sputter out, but generally no water. This is strange for two reasons. Firstly, Korea uses ondal heating, which is a system of hot water pipes crisscrossing under the floor. This hot water works. At least I have heat. Secondly, the cold water is still flowing though the pipe to my faucet. How is only the hot water pipe frozen? I would think that would remain unfrozen longer than the cold water pipe.

Frozen pipes are sadly common. At any given time, I generally have at least one friend without heat. My co-teacher was without for nearly three weeks. Night temperatures can be as low as -20 degrees Celsius (-4F) and it hasn't really been above freezing for a while. Logically, a country with cold winters would insulate pipes, in order to prevent freezing. But not Korea. One more time for emphasis: Korea does not insulate their pipes. The last time my hot water wasn't working, my boss came to fix it because the wait list for a repairman was more than a week.

We find ways to do without. We bum off our friends. I could shower at the gym, but given that I won't even wear shorts, public nudity is not an option. So instead I leave the comfort of my apartment and walk to a friend's place, which is forever away when you're freshly showered and walking in the cold. Pajama parties are coming back into fashion. And my favorite coping method is the Whore's Bath, also known as a gas station shower or a sink shower. Now that I've learned the term 'whore's bath,' I find every opportunity to use it.

Korean Peculiarities: Slippery Sidewalks

Korea is wet for roughly 4-6 months of the year. There is an average of 44.6 inches of precipitation a year in Daejeon, which is about seven inches more than Portland. July is the wettest month, with just over 9 inches of rain. Korean summer rain is not like Portland rain. Portland drizzles, conserving water to make an entire week miserable. Korea streamlines this process and uses the same amount of water in an afternoon. I stay drier in the shower. Umbrellas are helpful, but your pants and shoes still get soaked.

Winter has snow and ice. This snow and ice is also different than home. It's dry, powdery snow. Useless for snowballs, but fun to kick around. Since it's fairly cold and Koreans care so little about playing in the snow that two weeks after the initial snowfall, I can still find clean snow to jump around in.

Now you're educated on Korean precipitation. Korea = generally wet weather. Please take a minute and pretend you are a city planner presented with the task of choosing a proper sidewalk design and appropriate materials. Concrete? Brick? Maybe the cushy crushed up tires? Certainly not granite or any other slick material, right?

Wrong. Meet your doom.

It's lovely to look at, but deadly as soon as any moisture is introduced. Or even without proper treaded shoes in dry weather. Perhaps this is the origin of the Korean Shuffle Walk.

It's not uncommon to see people slipping on the street. Korean women's shoes are very cute and fun, but none too practical on slick sidewalks. I have flailed about a bit, but have yet to fall. It snowed again today and earlier I tried to walk into a restaurant only to find I couldn't make it up the slight incline to the door. After several embarrassing attempts, I finally made it to the steep metal ramp in front of the door. Then I struggled again. In the end, I just jumped up to the top of the ramp and in through the door.

The sidewalks have been iced for weeks now, the layer growing thicker with each new snowfall. I'm taking bets on how thick it will get before Spring time. My guess is a solid two, maybe three inches. Hopefully I won't fall on my ass. I'm sure I will, though. With these slippery sidewalks, it's inevitable.