My Summer Interning at the Chosun Ilbo Newspaper- Summer 2011
Bulging With Bingsu
My stomach growls in protest as I gulp down another spoonful of shaved ice and sweetened red bean puree. I pinch my stomach with one hand and quickly jot down some notes with the other: “The shaved ice, made with frozen milk, melted like snow right as it touched the tip of my tongue. The chunky red bean puree wasn’t overly sweet, while the slices of fresh kiwis and crunchy candied walnuts added texture to the otherwise watery bingsu.”
“This is probably enough,” I think as I storm out the door. Despite my bulging stomach, my footsteps do not lead me home, but to yet another café for yet another bowl of shaved ice. Why, you may ask? Because I had to complete a task that had been given to me: the task of finding the best patbingsu in South Korea.
As a self-proclaimed food aficionado, I had often dreamed of becoming a food critic, a profession that combines two of my passions: writing and eating. Because of my interests, I joined the Harvard Crimson as a news reporter to brush up my journalistic panache and voraciously read food magazines to pick up some epicurean lingos. After spending a semester as the ‘HUHDS reporter,’ a job that entailed writing about all food-and-dining-hall-related events on campus, I became more interested in the culinary world. However, because I lack established fame or reputation as a food critic, no four-star restaurant, yet alone a small bakery or a café, would require my presence at its opening event to sample delectable cuisine. So I would just appease my taste bud with a little dollop of curry and a slice of cheddar cheese from the dining hall and practice writing my own reviews so I could learn to convey the taste of food with words.
Then, this summer, my dream became a reality when I had the opportunity to intern as a reporter for Chosun Ilbo, the largest daily newspaper in South Korea with a circulation of more than 2.2 million. Though I did not know which department I would be placed in or what kind of articles I would be writing, this oblivion did not shield my excitement; I was solely ecstatic about the prospect of gaining international working experience and seeing my name on the byline for the newspaper I grew up reading.
The internship program, which selected a total of 35 interns from Korean and American universities, began with three days of orientation. During this period, I sat on a cushion-less chair for up to eight hours a day, learning about the nearly 100-year history of Chosun Ilbo and listening to editors from different departments lecturing on the field of journalism. After surviving the orientation, I managed to wiggle my way into the department of my top choice, Pop Culture and Entertainment.
When I entered the Chosun Ilbo newsroom on the first day of work, I felt intimidated just by the sight of the reporters talking on the phone and editors typing on the computer. All the reporters seemed so immersed in their work that I thought my mere presence was bothering them from their busy schedule. Furthermore, since I grew up in the United States, I was initially unsure of how to behave in front of my elders in a professional work setting. Through observation, I learned to bow down to say hello to anyone I encountered, be the last to exit the elevator, and avoid direct eye contact with the adults because that is considered rude in Korean society. Fortunately, the editor of the Pop Culture and Entertainment, Mr. Shin, understood my unfamiliarity with proper Korean etiquette and made the newsroom a comfortable place.
During a meeting one day, I suggested writing an article on where to find the best of Korea’s favorite summer dessert, patbingsu (shaved ice with red bean puree, rice cake, fruits, and other toppings). The editor gave me a green light for the pitch, and so began my patbingsu adventure.
Sadly, the reality was not as sweet as I had expected. Since I had only a week to visit as many patbingsu cafes as possible, I would skip lunch and dinner to leave enough room in my stomach for two to three bowls of patbingsu every day. At first I enjoyed the sweet and savory red bean puree with the frosty taste of shaved ice that immediately cooled my heated body in the humid Korean summer. However, after repeating the same procedure for a few days, I had all but overdosed, and my stomach longed for something warm. The sugary patbingsu tasted bitter all the sudden, and I wanted nothing but to end my ‘patbingsu diet.’
Five days, fifteen patbingsu, and ten extra pounds later, I am finally finished reporting. Despite the thrill of being a food critic, I have realized that food tastes best when paid for with your own money and shared with your family and friends, not when disseted in detail and recorded in pen. If I had invested money from my own wallet and eaten it with no burden of writing a review afterward, I would have enjoyed consuming more than fifteen patbingsu. Though I don’t have the courage to consume another shaved ice this season, I will leave Korea with a confident answer to an important question—that is, should anyone ever ask me where to find Korea’s best bingsu café.
Jane Dongeun Seo, '14