Pop that Makkgeoli, It's a Housewarming for Two

This is our home in Seoul. It's a tiny box, three floors up, in a building so new they had to turn on the heat just for us (the first night was a cold one - indoor camping!).

I'm in love with the place and its simplicity. What you're seeing in this pic is literally the entire thing. If you turned around, you would see the red plastic patio table we borrowed from a restaurant down the street. And that's it. On the ondol floor, to the right in the photo, is our sleeping stuff - borrowed blankets and pillows, unfurled every night for bedtime. I love living out of a suitcase, especially when we actually have a tiny washing machine (whether I'll be able to figure it out remains to be seen).
Really, the best part of the apartment, though, is the bathroom. The entire thing is tiled and the drain is in the center of the floor. The tap on the sink has a handy little switch that takes the flow of water from the tap to the shower. Spot a hair or a smidge of dust? Just BLAST IT with the shower head. I did that. It feels good to go a little crazy and just take that shower head and aim it all around the room. I'm all for a system where you can clean the bathroom with two seconds of high water pressure.
We don't have too much in the house. One pot, some chopsticks, some soap, our clothes, books and laptops. My iPod in a tiny, circular speaker. Oh and TONS OF BOOZE.

We picked up three bottles of wine at Home Plus, a labyrinthine store lit like the entire thing is at the center of a hot lightbulb. Home Plus is what would happen if a Wal-Mart and a carnival had a baby then let an army of apron-wearing Koreans raise it, dutifully broadcasting sale prices into megaphones all the while.

We didn't even pop those bottles before we went on a road trip to GyeungJu (more on that later) and came home with a giant bottle of maeshil moonshine, a gift from farmers we met.

Being showered in alcohol is a function of being within drinking radius of Isaac. Today, when Isaac gave his thumbs up to the makggeoli my father's uncle ordered at lunch, he was given a bottle. Whenever Isaac says he likes something (usually mimed with a thumbs up and smile which are in turn greeted by raucous Korean approval), he is bestowed with tons of it.
We're living without the basics of civility i.e. proper utensils (we have take-out chopsticks and a few plastic spoons, oh the shame) yet we've got enough booze to open our own HOF. We are such raging party animals. At this very moment, you can hear every click of my keyboard as I tippity tap away and Isaac silently draws on his computer at our plastic patio table.

Wee-ha-yo! ("Cheers!")