Pacific Mall

More stories from my holidays - continuing on my Asian immersion experience in Toronto

I took my husband to Pacific Mall, the largest indoor Chinese mall in North America, located in Markham, of course (where else?).  The mall corridors are named after famous Hong Kong streets, and the shops are filled with huge crowds of Chinese people, and tourists who want to look at the huge crowds of Chinese people.

Like China, the mall was crowded and it was nearly impossible to find parking. Eventually after circling around and around, we just illegally parked the car in a spot that arguably could be a parking spot if you didn't look too closely, and we didn't think anyone would look too closely.

Pac Mall used to be really famous because of the way the shops would openly sell very illegal pirated copies of movies, video games and TV shows. Basically, you'd go into the shop, scan the very expansive catalogues, and indicate to the shop clerk what Korean drama you wanted to purchase. The store clerk would take your money, tell you to wait five minutes, disappear and re-emerge with a freshly burned DVD of whatever you wanted. Nowadays, in the age of Netflix, I wondered if the open-air bootleg industry was still thriving at Pacific Mall.

It seemed like despite the rise of the Internet, the pirates were still in business. We still found the "video store", with their stacks and stacks of movie selections, and angry signs that mysteriously read "No!! Sony player".  They weren't as plentiful as they used to be, though.

I am told these photos do not do the grime of Pac Mall justice

We grabbed some bubble tea from an area that seemed to be the Bubble Tea zone and checked out some of the other shops. They sold all sorts of things, but especially cell phone accessories. A few years back, these places were all about the little ornaments you could hang from your cell phones. Now that iPhones have replaced the flip phones, it's now all about iPhone covers and selfie sticks.  Each store had more angry signs that said things like "PLEASE DO NOT TRY OUT THE LIGHTS OR NAIL CLIPPERS". We did not try out the nail clippers.  I spent the majority of my money at the Korean cosmetic stores. We also bought a pair of knock-off Crocs, which to my disappointment were not called "Clocks".

Pacific Mall is a pretty magical place. Terracotta warriors guard the public bathrooms. The oddly familiar looking electronic store "Best Shop" is on the top floor. The food court is just past the "Luck" Bridge, and is like a step into Asia, with the ramen noodle stands, pig's heads and whole ducks hanging in the display cases, and a tattoo shop located right in the middle of the food court. It reminded us of shopping in Bangkok.

Toronto's (north) Korea Town - or, How I Ate For Forty-Eight Hours Straight

More stories from my holidays.

With 3 shootings in Ottawa in the last 48 hours, it was time to leave for peaceful Toronto.

One thing I miss when I am up north in Nunavut is that sense of belonging to my Korean heritage. I am one of the very few Koreans in Nunavut and the only one in the Kitikmeot region. I consider myself to be a multi-faceted person, so being a Korean-Canadian is not the only thing to define me, but it is an important part of my identity, and sometimes it's nice to be back in a place with lots of other fellow Korean-Canadians. Like in Toronto.

We were in Toronto for about 48 hours. We pretty much spent the entire time eating.

Ah, Korean food, how much I missed you. Back at home in Cambridge Bay, sometimes my husband will cook kimchi chigae or I'll fix up some kimbap. In Ottawa, people speak of going to "the Korean restaurant" as though it is a uniform solitary type of cuisine, usually in the form of bulgogi, bibimbap or sushi (which is actually Japanese). But in Toronto, there are so many choices. So many restaurants each with their own specialty. The Myungdong place that specializes in mandu dumplings, kalguksu noodles, and shabu shabu. Buk Chang Dong which is my go to place for soondubu chigae (soft tofu stew). The Ichiban restaurants that is a Korean take on Japanese cuisine. Even the food court at the Galleria supermarket has its treasures.  So no, I didn't go to the new aquarium or the Aga Khan Museum while I was in Toronto. I didn't even step a foot downtown. My entire trip to Toronto was spent in North York, mostly around Yonge and Sheppard, amongst my peeps eating and drinking,and I have no regrets, although I do have a few extra pounds.

My trip of glorious gluttony started off at our relatives' home, where they had ordered Korean food to be catered to the house.  Lots of seafood. Make no mistake. We ate a lot at this dinner.

what are you looking at

Then as the older generation sensibly got ready for bed, us youngsters headed for the Yonge and Finch area (which I affectionately like to refer to as "North Korea Town", to distinguish it from the other Korea town, down at Bloor and Christie), to eat some more.

First we stopped off at my cousin's condo, where we took a break from dinner by eating more snacks and having a few relaxing drinks. Then we headed out to try out the soju bangs.

Korean-style drinking is a wonderful cultural experience that must be tried. For one thing, the accompaniment of food with your drink (anju) is essential and many Korean bars will serve for an assortment of dishes to go with your drink for free, somewhat similar to the concept of the Spanish tapas. I am of the strong opinion that this is a practice that North American establishments should adopt. Waistlines may bulge, but it also stops you from getting ridiculously wasted.

What do you drink? Soju, of course. Poured for you by someone else, preferably your host or someone younger than you, with both of yours hands holding the receiving glass. With a toast, possibly as part of a drinking game that involves a lot of singing. Chased down with cheap beer. It could be Molson; doesn't have to be a fine beer, because beer is just what you drink between your sips of soju.

one of the brands of soju. This name means "like the first time". Koreans love to be nostalgic about innocence.

The first place we  hit up was The Fry, which despite its very English sounding name, was a very Korean soju bar. This place is known for having one of the best Korean fried chicken in Toronto, so of course we had to order a couple of giant platter of chicken to go with our drinks. Plus more anju, in the form of corn, chips, salad, and other random snacks.

We were eating at the Fry to kill time until a table was ready at the joint next door, Han Ba Tang. The manager knew our crowd and visited us at the Fry to assure us that a table was being prepared and that he was asking his kitchen staff to stay extra late especially for us so we can try his food. Which was a good thing, because by the time we got into Han Ba Tang, it was half past midnight...but we still had room in our tummies to eat more.

Han Ba Tang, which aptly means "One More Round" 

So of course we ate some more. Han Ba Tang is known for its clever modern twists on traditional Korean dishes, like kimchi fries and kalbi tacos. But this is no Asian fusion joint with notions of the exotic served by waiters who don't speak Korean - other than our table, most of the patrons at the bar were fresh-off-the-boat Koreans.

Kimchi fries, topped with bulgogi

Makgoli, another type of Korean liquor, traditionally drunk out of wooden bowls

Seafood stew with ramen noodles, which are apparently the perfect midnight snack

And then by 2AM it was time to head out...and move on to a noraebang, Korean karaoke, where we continued to consume.

Korean karaoke is an essential part of a night out

a survey of Canadian cities in seven days: Toronto

Continuing my stories of each Canadian city I visited during my seven day sprint across the country:

Toronto is an assault to the senses for every Canadian that is not from Toronto. It's the biggest Canadian city. As an outsider, you are pretty much guaranteed to be overwhelmed every time. There is ten of everything. Two Korea towns. Millions of people. Cars everywhere, even in the suburban plaza parking lots. Traffic jams at midnight.

I have fallen in love with the pace of small town life, but I confess that even as I continue to live in Cambridge Bay, I often dream at night of going back to Toronto. In these dreams, I always have a limited amount of time and a burning desire to see everything while I'm there. Shopping on Queen West! Lounging at the Beaches! Soondubu chigae at Bloor & Christie! Ramen at Momofuku! Soju bars at Yonge & Finch! Plus dozens of friends I'd like to catch up with.  In my dreams, there is always a continuous theme of not having enough time to see all the things I want to do in Toronto. It doesn't help that I hadn't been back there in years.  Having moved to Nunavut, all of our trips down south are to Ottawa, and we usually just don't have enough time to make a side trip to Toronto.

This time, however, we made it happen. I had twenty-four hours in Toronto. There was no way - no matter how much sleep I was willing to give up - that I was going to have time to do everything, or really, anything, that I had been dreaming of doing. I certainly wasn't going to have time to see any of my friends, so I kept my presence in the T-dot a bit of a secret, slipping in under the radar.

The official reason we were in Toronto was to celebrate my grandmother's birthday.  The entire family came out, and I think she was pleased that we had all gathered for the occasion.  We met up at a Japanese-style Korean restaurant, one of those joints where the food that is served is inspired by Japanese cuisine but in reality is run entirely by Korean staff serving a Korean clientele, because Toronto is big enough to have those things.

A sushi boat

the "kids"

birthday girl

Shortly after this photo was taken, the birthday cake caught on fire.  My grandmother is no spring chicken, you know, and there were a lot of candles on the cake, which was made out of mugwort.  As the flames started and everyone started panicking, my grandmother reached her hand out in the most nonchalant manner possible and put the fire out with her own fingers.  She's so tough.

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family photo

After dinner, we went to a Korean karaoke bar at Yonge & Finch. With my grandmother.  Let me tell you something about my family: we love to sing.  Impressions of western-style karaoke seem to involve drinking several beers to gain the liquid courage to go up on stage and sing an old classic in front of a crowded bar full of strangers.  My family, we love to sing. We'll sing completely sober. In a private room. Korean karaoke style.  With lots of snacks, of course.

Well, if I wasn't going to have time to do everything while I was in Toronto, the one thing I wanted to do was hang out with my peeps (Koreans) in my place (Korea town).

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Afterwards, some of us younger folks went downtown to a club. Clubbing in Toronto is always a radically different experience than Ottawa and other smaller cities.  It involves walking through the clubbing district while barkers try to get you to go into their club. If one of them happens to be working for the club that you actually want to go to, you stop, pretending to be bored and disinterested and express to them in a bored and disinterested manner that you just don't want to pay $20 cover to get in; can he not give us a deal?  Also, we don't want to wait in line.  It's useful to bring young good-looking people around when you engage in such negotiations. I doubt I would have gotten very far on my own with my rural sensibilities and my grey hairs.

This, however, is pretty much our second home in Toronto:

Galleria

The Galleria is one of many Korean grocery stores which are the size of T&Ts and Loblaws but devoted entirely to only Korean groceries.  Considering the fact that I come from a town where I am the only Korean and the only grocery store in town is about the size of the Galleria's produce section, it's pretty easy to be dazzled.

It was a whirlwind 24 hours where I managed to squeeze in sushi, karaoke, clubbing, and grocery shopping.  My list will be much longer the next time I come back to Toronto (whenever that will be), but hopefully I'll be in town for more than a day.

guu izakaya

Have I talked about Guu Izakaya before?



If you were to tell me that you were unimpressed by Toronto's culinary scene, that while it could definitely be trendy and quirky and classy, there is nothing particularly remarkable about the small piles of food stacked perilously high on square white plates, representing a fusion of whatever ethnic ingredient is popular for the day but mixed with a different ethnicity's twist on a bed of quinoa or whatever grain is trending now so as to justify fixing a $40 price on the plate rather than the $5 price you'd get for the original dish in its original country...

...I would pat you on the back and then I would take you to Guu Izakaya.

A restaurant called Izakaya recently opened up in Ottawa. After having visited Guu, I had incredibly high hopes for the Izakaya in Ottawa. Izakaya, however, is not a restaurant name or brand, but rather it's just the Japanese word for, like, "bar" or "pub" or whatever the Japanese equivalent. The Izakaya in Ottawa serves a creative menu of clever fusions of various Asian dishes to maybe justify its un-Asian prices, but it is not an izakaya. An izakaya is where the Japanese go to drink, and order small plates of bite-sized snacks that they share with everyone. An izakaya is more than a restaurant; it's an experience. Guu Izakaya is the only place in Canada that I've found so far that has gotten this right, and for that reason it is my favourite restaurant in Toronto (outside of Koreatown, that is of course).

To be fair, Guu originated in Vancouver, which really would not surprise anyone, given Vancouver's reputation of being a culinary paradise as well as being one of the few places in Canada where you'll find a signficant Japanese population. Guu in Toronto, however, does not lose any of its amazingness.

I took my partner there, because he was a skeptic. When we arrived there with my friend Soo, we were told there was an hour's wait. I'm from Ottawa, not New York City, so normally I do not have patience for such wait times. Restaurants with wait times like that generally come with a pretentiousness that I don't have a patience for - that's not our scene. But Guu was an exception. I would be willing to go to all sorts of lengths to eat at Guu, and in fact we already had, having driven five hours to get to the city. So we waited and tortured ourselves by looking at the menu posted outside.




finally after one gruelling hour of prolonged hunger, our name was called. Guu does not take reservations. Anybody living in the gay Village can probably actually make some good money, getting paid to go to the restaurant to put their names on the waiting list for other people.

But I digress! I was going to talk about the experience of dining at Guu. This is what happens when you go to Guu.

You walk in through the door. You step into Japan. The entire kitchen staff greets you loudly and cheerfully in Japanese, probably something along the lines of "Welcome to our restaurant, may you have a good meal" but they could actually be saying "You have no idea what we are saying to you, foreigner" for all I know. All I know is that I want to record this greeting and rig my front door at home to play that greeting every time I come home.

You are seated at a big table, probably where a bunch of other strangers are already seated and eating. This place is a bit like Schwartz`s in Montreal in that aspect. No chance whatsoever you are getting that long table for yourself and your party of three. Asian culture is not about private property or individualist ideals. It`s about sharing. It`s about having strangers intrude uncomfortably close to your personal space.

A server attends to you right away to give you your personal oshibori, warm wet cloth, to wash your hands. This is an important part of izakaya tradition. What people also tend to notice right away is that the whole izakaya is noisy. The kitchen is open so you hear all the cooking and pots and pans banging. The server is constantly calling out something in Japanese and the cooks reply in unison, as though your whole dining experience is actually a scripted part of a bizarre Broadway musical of some sort. You do not go to Guu to chat with a friend, to catch up on lost times. You go to Guu to eat. And to listen to people yelling in Japanese.

So you order some drinks.

drink menu
Man, even the drinks are unique and amazing. You can order sake, of course, but you can also order Japanese vodka. You can order aloe juice (a popular Asian drink) with vodka. You can order Japanese style hard lemonade, and you get your own lemon and juicer to squeeze into your vodka. You can order something called the three samurai; I have no idea what`s in them but they are bright happy colours and perfect for a party of three.

And then you order food. As mentioned, the plates are small and meant to be shared. They`re modestly priced, as authentic Asian food should be, in my opinion, but the truth is you end up falling in love with the whole menu and you try to order everything off the menu and those little plates add up.


pork cheeks


the most incredible piece of salmon you will ever taste


tuna in a soy sauce that makes it taste just like Korean jangjorim


beef tongue
My sadness in being a writer and not, like, I don`t know, some kind of tasting experience reproducer is that I can write and write and write about how good the food is, but I just cannot get across the wonderful feeling when that beef tongue hits your tongue. How can I explain it? I generally do not like seafood and try to avoid it whenever I can. When I eat scallops or tuna or salmon at Guu though, I forget that I hate seafood because they make it taste so good I want to lick the dish, if I could do it without offending.

You know, half the time I can't even remember the dishes we ordered, partly because we order so much, and partly because the food is so good, I fall into this blissful trance where my mouth believes it is in heaven and everything becomes a beautiful blur. Also, the drinks are good, so we tend to order more rounds of 3 samurai. But bits of it come back at random times, when I'm at the office, or in my car driving back to Ottawa. That wasabi mayo dip. That soya sauce base. That fried chicken, the tenderest fried chicken you will ever eat.

the bill, no joking matter.
And as you leave, the entire kitchen staff cheerfully sends you off at the top of their lungs, probably "We are glad you dined with us; please come again!" but maybe they're saying "You ate a lot, fatty! Go for a run." And as you leave, you're hit with that feeling of sadness when you realize that all the food you've ordered has been eaten, and you're going to have to wait till the next time you come to Guu before you can achieve such culinary ecstasy again.


portrait of a happy couple

who am i in North York

Like any Ottawa resident, I always pretend to hate Toronto, but I did feel a genuine sense of relief as my bus pulled into North York, with this strange feeling of arriving home, or at least one of my homes. After all, I did live in Toronto for three years, and I do have more family in Toronto than I do in Ottawa. Combine that with the fact that I'd spent the last seven months living in Namibia, where being Korean is a factual anomaly, and then the month after that in my hometown where 99% of my friends are white, and it was definitely refreshing to be spending some time in a city that has not one but TWO Koreatowns. There's something lovely about being lost in a sea of anonymity.

Also, it was sunny and 13 degrees, which is pretty good for Canada these days.

There were three Toronto Korean things that I missed the most while I was overseas in Africa. One was my grandmother's jangjorim (장조림), a shredded beef dish, which she fed me as soon as I walked through her door. The second was soondubu chigae(순두부찌개), soft tofu stew, particularly the stuff served at Buk Chang Dong.

Buk Chang Dong is by far my favourite Korean restaurant in Toronto. It's not the best place to sample an array of Korean dishes, since the menu only offers soon dubu chigae and bibimbap. It's not the best place bring a non-Korean to try Korean food for the best time, because soft sofu (which literally comes out of a tube) is a bit freaky to people who aren't accustomed to hard core ethnic food. But it is by far the most authentic Korean experience, and, in my personal opinion, the yummiest.

Buk Chang Dong has two locations, one in "South" Koreatown (Bloor and Christie)and "North" Koreatown (Yonge and Finch). I like the Yonge and Finch location better, because its distant location ensures the presence of less hipsters with Asian fetishes. The restaurant is not very big, and often there are lineups out the door. The patrons are mostly Koreans, although some open-minded white folks have started to hear about the place. Because the patrons are mostly Korean, it means they all park in the alleyway in the back, in front of the DO NOT PARK signs and blocking in other cars. The restaurant folks are used to this. The servers ask you for your licence plate number as they seat you, so that when the car you're blocking wants to leave, they can interrupt you in the middle of dinner to move your damn car.

You sit down, and order either bibimbap or soondubu chigae. I almost always order the soondubu chigae with mandu (만두), dumplings. You choose your level of spicyness. I usually choose botong mepgae which in my head means "how spicy you are supposed to get it, dammit", which tends to sit slightly above the rest of Canada's comfort level. There is, for the record, the "White" level of spice, which is no spice. I don't think they mean to be racist.

As you wait for your meal to arrive, the server gives you a bunch of banchan (반찬), side dishes. Unlike Canadian restaurants, Korean restaurants usually don't charge you extra for side dishes and give you free refills. Banchan often includes kimchi, beans, and bean sprouts. You set your own table with spoons and chopsticks.

Then the chigae arrives! Still boiling hot in its black pot. You smell it and you feel like you're in heaven. The server hands you an egg to crack and pour into your stew. While you're doing this, the server brings over a stone pot of rice and does the most curious thing. He scoops the rice out of the stone pot and puts it in another bowl. And then he pours boiling water into the stone pot which still has bits of rice in it. You think, and every first-timer does think this, "Okay, they want to soak the dish before the rice hardens and is impossible to wash off. Why do they have to do that at the table?" But then you realize that it's noorongji, the meal that comes AFTER your meal.

Like I said, it tastes heavenly. I love this place.

The third Toronto Korean thing that I missed the most was a good bowl of chajangmyun (짜장면). It's Chinese style noodles with black bean sauce. Marco Polo discovered this dish during his travels to Asia, and then brought it back to Italy, and now Italians claim they invented pasta. When I moved to Africa, I brought one packet of instant chajangmyun noodles (brand "Chappaghetti") and saved it for a special occasion - when I got robbed. I was eager now to have some of the real stuff.

For changjangmyun, I met up with my family and we went to Seoul Gwan, which is about a stone's throw from Yorkdale Mall. I am not sure if this is the best place in Toronto but my parents certainly love it and they always go there. The owner of the restaurant greets us warmly and brings out a special banchan dish of kimchi. We always get free stuff whenever we dine with my family in Korean restaurants in Toronto, due to the fact that we are related to a well-known Korean in the Korean community. I dislike fame, but I like free stuff.

Afterwards, we stopped by a Korean butchery, where I found myself talking to a huge goat's leg hanging on a hook, while my parents bought obscene amounts of meat. Then, in case we didn't have enough food, we headed over to the Galleria Supermarket, which is probably one of the largest Korean grocery stores in Canada. It's kind of like the T&T, which already amazes Ottawa residents, but instead of being pan-Asian, it's all Korean stuff, with brands like "Bu Bee" and all the kimchi you could ever hope for. It's the main reason why my parents go to Toronto every month.

Korean grocery stores are the reason why I stopped eating seafood for ten years. I'm not sure why the sight of various sea animals bother me so much when clearly pushing lambs through bandsaws and hanging goats on hooks do not faze me at all. There was a bucket of mudfish at the back of the store, under a sign that said "LET'S EAT MUDFISH STEW" and for some reason it grossed me out again and I thought maybe I was going to give up eating fish for another decade.

Going to Galleria Supermarket, which seems like a little Korea inside Canada, always inevitably leaves me with a mini-identity crisis, as staying in North York inevitably always does. There are many ways to describe myself: Korean-Canadian, second gen or "ee-seh", banana, or if you're feeling mean, whitewashed. But none of them really address the core of who I am. One one hand, despite being raised in Canada all my life, there are very definite Korean aspects to my identity. My deep respect for hierarchy and deference to elders. My ability to sing karaoke while stone cold sober. My inability to call my friends' parents by their first name. My genuine love for tofu squeezed out of a tube. The way I pronounce "salmon" phonetically as "sal-mon" (why the heck not?). My tendency to fight to pay for the bill, and correspondingly, my sense of feeling slightly put out when my white friends take out calculators to split the bill.

On the other hand, there are other aspects of me that are very un-Korean. It comes out when Korean store clerks speak to me in English, because they somehow know. My piercings and tattoos. The way I do certain things that really put off Koreans, like speaking too loudly or not covering my mouth when I laugh. It comes out especially when I am in Korea or with Koreans from Korea. Koreans are much more forgiving about these social faux-pas when it comes to white foreigners; with someone like me, however, they consider it bizarre and socially embarrassing.

My Korean-Canadian identity is even different from other Korean-Canadians in Toronto. With so many other Korean-Canadians around (and TWO Koreatowns), it seems easier for other kids to be in touch with their culture, to maintain their language and to know the latest tv shows and musicians coming out of Korea. I, on the other hand, grew up as the only person of colour in a small American town with a population of 5000 people, and then moved to Ottawa, which has no Koreatown and at the time had only two small Korean grocery stores, two Korean restaurants, and two Korean churches. I grew up with the odd feeling of being different from all my white friends, only to find that when I was actually in Korean society, they also thought that I was really weird too. I am, arguably, "whiter" than the average Korean-Canadian in Toronto. On the other hand, I did grow up in the Korean church. My grandmother lived with us throughout my teenage years, and when I moved to Toronto, I did my best to immerse myself in my lost culture.

My parents, who arrived in Canada when they were teens and therefore have the label of being 1.5 generation, tell me that the result of having a hybrid identity is not that you feel at home in both cultures, but rather a sense of slight alienation no matter where you go. You feel a bit out of place in either social circle. What I find interesting is that Canada is made up of people with these hybrid identities and existential confusion, and I wonder how it shapes the way we interact with each other as a society.

In the evening, I met up with some of my Korean-Canadian friends from law school and we headed over to a noraebang, a Korean-style Karaoke place, called Y.K. in the same Yonge-Finch area. As politically incorrect as it may sound, I think Korean karaoke places are far superior than the North American style karaoke that everyone's used to. The latter involves signing up for songs that you will sing, maybe two or three times in the whole evening, in front of a bar full of strangers. The Korean version involves renting a small private room with your friends and, while sipping soju (Korean liquor) and bar snacks (anju), belting out all of your favourite songs all night long. With lots of reverb. And tambourines. That night, I discovered that I can't read Korean fast enough to rap in Korean, but that Radiohead does actually sound pretty awesome in karaoke. And there is never an inappropriate time to sing "O Holy Night." It's a fun night.

As a "banana", I used to feel frustrated with what I perceived as a limited range of personality within Korean Canadians, who I believed tended to be overly politically conservative, socially introverted, predominantly Christian, and preoccupied with pop culture. I've begun to accept now that there are infinite variations within the hybrid identity of "Korean Canadians". Some are "more Canadian", and some are "more Korean". More interestingly though, it's not a one dimensional spectrum. I hold on to certain Korean values more than some of my "more Korean" friends. Also, some aspects of me that are "weird" (like hanging out at the edge of waterfalls) have nothing to do with the fact that I'm Korean or Canadian, but more because I just am weird. Hybrid identities are complex, fluid, and dynamic. At some point, I like to think that I'll speak better Korean. Also, at some point I'll be able to rap in Korean. One day.

midnight dance lessons on Spadina

Hamilton Trading Company CD Release Party

...was a huge success. Many people turned up at the Boat. Many people brought baked goods (always a yummy surprise). The opening band Cigarettes sent chills up my spine, as guitarist Brad Casey masterfully dodged every "Happy Birthday" that was sent his way (he turns 26, by the way.). HTC had the full choir of twenty people out this time, and for a change we sang on the floor in two rows instead of on stage. the audience was great, listening attentively the whole time. The Sleepless Nights, our tour buddies, closed for us again with an energetic rock show that ended with HTC crowding on stage, dancing and singing the chorus as two or three spontaneous drummers jumped on stage and played along in an percussive explosion. At one point, the guitarist kept his feedback on, walked off stage, disappeared, reappeared having left his guitar still ringing *somewhere* in the bar (my guess is in the bathroom?) and joined us back on stage in time for the final chorus. Now that's a dance party. I can't wait to see how things will go tomorrow night in Montreal, our last stop on tour...

tattoo rock parlour

last thursday, the U of T law students threw a huge party at Tattoo Rock Parlour for Haiti relief (what isn't for Haiti relief nowadays? that's how North Americans deal with any crisis, isn't it? by throwing a party and spending a lot of money on booze? why are we in a recession, anyway? i digress). i went mainly because it was Soo's birthday and Michelle had hooked us up with bottle service there. Tattoo Rock Parlour is a club that has a tattoo parlour attached to it. this combination of alcohol + permanent body mutilation strikes me as a very, very, very bad idea, but no one else seems to think so, least of all the people in there getting a tattoo. i tried to convince my friend to get a tattoo of my name on his butt and i'd get his name on my butt, but he wouldn't bite.

anyway it was really fun. they played a great selection of Motown, Stax records, and general 50's, 60's pop music. plus i had all sorts of ghosts from various phases of my life show up in that one place - my korean friends, my law school friends, my high school friends, my volunteer friends. in case you missed it, this is what is was like:

The In Crowd @ Tattoo Rock Parlour [21Jan10] from Al D on Vimeo.

Hamilton Trading Company at the Smiling Buddha

I guess it's a little weird to review your own band, but since I took a leave of absence from the Hamilton Trading Company while I travelled around the world for eight months I think it's okay to describe how much I enjoyed the show.

The 18 piece choir band fronted by Keith Hamilton has certainly kept busy in the eight months. During this time they:

....was featured as New Music Track of the Day on CBC Radio 3...

....played at Bruce McDonalds' wedding (yes, the Bruce McDonald, Canadian director extraordinaire)

...made a music video directed by Bruce McDonald in an old church in the country...

....had an article in Exclaim...

....was interviewed and played on Amanda Putz's CBC Radio One show Bandwidth...

....and probably other stuff I haven't found out about. They've clearly been working on new songs, which sound heartwarming and haunting at the same time - which is kind of their style. Their performance at the Smiling Buddha last night was the first show I got to see as an audience member since I first moved to Toronto. It was a good show; lots of people coming out and sticking around, even though the band didn't come on till well after midnight. The band managed to captivate the entire bar's attention; despite being packed, there was total silence during the quiet songs and some dancing during the faster ones. It was probably the right crowd for the sort of experimental choir work the band does; there were so many young people barefoot in dreadlocks and long flowy skirts and drawings on their faces that I could have sworn I was on a Vancouver beach, not in Toronto's Little Italy in the dead of winter. this meant that the cover of "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" went well, as did the use of speakerphone feedback as an instrument. That's the cool thing about hippie types. They're pretty open minded.

HTC still had a lot of exciting events planned, including a cross-Canada tour and a CD release party for their EP produces by Lowell Sostomi of the Great Bloomers. Members Keith and Duffield will also have their hands full as their other band, the Diableros, head for Austin, Texas for the epic music event SXSW. Most important in HTC news, however: long lost member Gloria will finally rejoin the group, hereby upping the band's nerd factor (rumoue has it she brings textbooks to gigs)...

on the road again

apologies for the long absence. it's been a long couple of months of school and work, and not really doing anything or going anyway except for those two locations...so naturally i'm going a little crazy. luckily, things are starting to pick up, and i'm going to be on the move again, so i've come back to updating this blog. i promise to try to be interesting...stay tuned!

coming soon:

march 5 - Oshawa, Ontario, with the band
march 10 - Belleville, Ontario, with the band (is it really sad that i've never actually been to belleville before?)
march 13 - Vancouver. that's right...sensible people go south for their reading week, and i go west. i have a job interview there, so it's not quite a vacation, but i do intend to go look at the ocean or something, maybe even sneak in a day trip to the island?

in May, i will be moving to Vancouver for four months for my summer job, so i have full intentions of working hard...travelling. I've got Seattle, Victoria, Portland, and all the little towns in between in my sights. And exploring vancouver of course. i look forward to taking up yoga and jogging on the beach (yeah right...)

in September, i am moving to AMSTERDAM for four months. yes i am. i'm going to be one of those irresponsible, annoying foreign exchange studnets you always see walking around the city with maps and cheesy smiles. vancouver then amsterdam...if only i smoked weed, it would be heaven.

After eight months away, in January i move back to Toronto to finish up school, and unless things change, I will likely move back to Ottawa for my last summer as an irresponsible student. my parents have been promising me a trip to Korea, and I really hope that happens. I can study for the bar admission exams while on the plane, right?

so stay tuned. for now, i only have to make it till next week...

only got two days in the city

tomorrow i fly to Timmons, then drive two hours to Chapleau. “work” for the next few days will consist of me hiking around the bush.

then, as soon as i get back, i leave for Shady Acres, for an awesome cottage party weekend with some awesome friends.

my feet are still burning from the last cottage weekend when the mosquitos attacked me. this time, i am determined to win.

therefore, no shampoo for the next whole week.

mmm. i'm going to taste delicious.

Jack Kerouac would approve

i took a look at my appointment book and turned a little green when i realized how much time i am going to be spending on the road in the next month. Ottawa, Lanark, Chapleau, Peterborough, Pike Lake, all within a few weeks. some of it is for work, but most of it is for pleasure (in form of cottages and music). and THEN my band goes on tour in September – Peterborough, Halifax, Montreal, Ottawa, Oshawa, back to Toronto, over a full week on the road (and not in school, but shhhh don’t tell my profs). and, cross your fingers, hopefully a job interview in Vancouver (please! please! please!). so, it looks like i’m going to keep posting here about my little adventures through Canada throughout the summer. thankfully, i still have batteries in my camera and a stack of paperback philosophy books for all the time on the bus.

home again

my last night in europe was spent in paris with soloman. i miraculously made it out of Italy to France fine, despite the train srike going on. that strike really messed a lot of people up. i saw people sleeping on the train floors, and even worse, some stranded travellers sleeping on park benches like homeless people, clutching their luggages in their sleep. i was really fortunate though. pretty much all the trains had been cancelled except mine.

once i got to paris, soloman showed me a great time. he told me that since he didn't have a boyfriend, he was going to have a romantic night with me. he's got this sweet flat that overlooks the paris cityline, including Sacre Coeur and even the Eiffel Tower off in the distance. we went to Le Train Bleu for dinner and had a mind-blowingly delicious traditional French dinner and a bottle of wine that left me full and happy. afterwards, we took a long stroll around La Marais at night while Soloman told me everything about the history of Paris' architecture and the development of the city. he is such an awesome guy.

now i am back home and settling into my new apartment. and GLAD to be home. it was a long month, fun but exhausting. once i get internet installed at home, i'm going to put up some photos. i have some great videos as well.

i leave toronto tonight

i was going to do some packing last night, but then i cracked my fingernail open while setting up neha's new bed, so i ended up just lying on the ground whining in pain like a little kid. i considered taking up a temporary codeine addiction, but decided to have a beer instead. unfortunately, this means i'm going to have to do all my euro-prep today.

interesting facts about gloria's luggage:

everything will fit in my backpack.
every shirt i am bringing is black.
i have packed a fake engagement ring.
i am not bringing a razor or tweezer (i am going au euro-naturel)
i am not bringing makeup
i have not packed any underwear yet.
in lieu of all this, i am bringing my ukulele.

all of those above statements (except the last) will assure you that all of my photos abroad will turn out hideous and therefore amusing. because really, would i have it any other way?