GetLit is a semimonthly series featuring works of fiction and creative nonfiction submitted by New School students. Each month has two opportunities to submit: an open call and a themed call. To submit your work or find more information, please visit GetLit’s submissions form.

September’s theme was “First Impressions.” This month’s themed call nonfiction selection is “Much to Chew On” by Christine Ro, the first six pages of her longer essay.

Christine Ro (she/her) is a second-year nonfiction student in the creative writing MFA program at the New School and one of the nonfiction editors at The Inquisitive Eater. She loves to write humor about her family, being Korean-American, and anything and everything that makes her angry.

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잡

jap

(Mixed)

채

chae

(Vegetable)

잡채

japchae

(Stir-Fried Glass Noodles and Vegetables)

According to everyone on my mom’s side of the family, my mom’s youngest sister makes the best japchae. In the days leading up to my cousin Su Bong’s 40-something birthday dinner, everyone gushed, Wait until you have your auntie’s japchae! It’s the best! I was nervous. I’ve inherited my dad’s reaction to food, which is no reaction. If we eat something we like, we’ll finish it. If we eat something we don’t like, we’ll probably finish it too, just to be polite. My mom’s the one who pours out kindness as if she means to drown you in it. She’ll smell a dish and say, What are the ingredients? What’s the recipe? Where did you get the ingredients and the recipe? It’s delicious! Very delicious! My mind echoed, It’s delicious! Very delicious! as I took the first fateful bite.

It was bland.

My mom’s youngest sister turned toward me, tongs at the ready. Christine–

Without a second thought, I spit out my mouthful. IT’S DELICIOUS! VERY DELICIOUS!

Her lips twitched between a smile and a frown. Oh! Well… I was going to ask if you wanted some kimchi, but if you want more japchae–

NO! I coughed, avoiding her gaze. I mean… Su Bong should have more japchae… Ha ha… It’s his birthday?

At that moment, Su Bong’s older brother Chae Bong swooped down. Switch out his plate for a human skull, and he might as well have been performing Hamlet’s soliloquy. He wore gravitas like a cape. Auntie, please don’t misunderstand me! The japchae is delicious! Very delicious! However, they say that you eat with your eyes first, and right now, it looks a little pale! Next time, you should add some more soy sauce! He paused, then added, And vegetable oil! Another pause. And you know, a little bit of toasted sesame oil goes a long way–

His mom – my mom’s middle sister – slammed her chopsticks down. Hey, hey, HEY! Who taught you to be so disrespectful? It certainly wasn’t me!

Just as angrily, Chae Bong slammed his plate down. I’m not saying it TASTES bad, I’m just saying it LOOKS bad!

His mom bellowed, We all know what you’re really saying, dumb-ass!

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. Soon, we were all laughing.

If you had told me on the first day that I met Chae Bong that I would one day feel comfortable enough to laugh in his face, I wouldn’t have believed it. For the first twenty-four hours that I knew him, I was terrified.

First Hour

How’s the 시차?

I blinked rapidly.

… What?

It was my first weekend in Korea – my first weekend anywhere outside of the U.S., really – and I would spend the next five weekends being tossed like a hot sweet potato between various aunts, uncles, and cousins, some of whom I’d never even known existed before. Case in point, meeting my cousin Chae Bong was a complete shock. Not only did he look old enough to be my dad, but he acted like it, too. His default expression was an unapproachable glare. His outfit consisted entirely of blue, black, and wrinkled white. He barely greeted me, instead relying on grunts and gestures for me to put my suitcase in the back of his car, then to sit in the front with him. Only after we had buckled our seatbelts and sealed our fates did he ask me a question, and of course, I had no idea what he was talking about.

He repeated the word that I didn’t know, stabbing the dashboard for emphasis.

시차!

I stared at the unremarkable gray panel, parsing my rudimentary Korean vocabulary.

I know 시 means “poetry,” but that doesn’t seem too relevant right now… 차 means “sleep,” “tea,” or “car”… Oh! Maybe I misheard him! Maybe he said 세차! “Car wash”! Yeah!

Quickly, I gave him two thumbs up and my most desperate smile.

I love it! I really, really love it!

He looked at me as if I had just said that I really, really love food poisoning. Without another word, he turned on the radio and started driving. I squirmed in my seat.

After a few other songs that made me wonder just how old is this guy, Frank Sinatra started to croon about the city that never sleeps. I wrinkled my nose.

… I feel like I should say something… We ARE family… Maybe I’ll mention going to school in New York… Yeah… Totally normal conversation between two cousins… All I have to do is turn around and say – OH MY GOD, HE’S DRIVING WITH ONE HAND! WE’RE GOING TO DIE!

As if he had heard my thoughts, he turned toward me, glare intensifying. I flinched.

OH MY GOD, DID HE JUST LEAN IN? WHY THE HELL WOULD HE DO THAT?

I spent the next hour with my face all but pressed against the window. Suddenly, he sat up, almost smiling. He pointed to a dome in the distance, voice soft with reverence.

Do you see the stadium?

I beamed.

Here’s my moment to connect!

… Music?

He frowned.

Baseball.

I deflated.

Oh my God… why do I have to be so stupid?

Soon after exiting the freeway, we entered a maze full of twisty alleyways and senior citizens. When we finally stopped next to a three-story house, I ignored a short old woman hobbling in our general direction in favor of being a nice guest and grabbing my suitcase.

HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

I jumped at his sharp tone.

… My suitcase?

His jaw dropped. Then, he shook his head furiously and pointed to the short old woman.

That’s my mom! Your mom’s middle sister!

I barely had time to register this information before my aunt wrapped me in a bone-crushing embrace. She sounded like she was crying.

I love you! I really, really love you!

As much as I wanted to reciprocate her kindness – her warmth – only one thought crossed my mind.

That’s what I said about his car wash.