Fish Heads, Fish Heads, Rolly Polly Fish Heads

"In the morning
Laughing, happy
Fish Heads
In the evening
Floating in the soup"



I blame my father really, but I hate fish. Dead or alive, I don’t want to touch them, or eat them, or smell them… they gross me out. I’ve tried to find love, I really have, but it’s a mental thing mostly and there’s no room in my heart, my life, or my stomach for anything that once lived in the water… and then I moved to Korea. And Korea is about pushing the boundaries. So, against my wishes and apprehensions we went to the fish market yesterday. I was really just excited I wasn’t feeling the effects of the previous night because the outcome could have been a lot less glamorous. As it was, the market, the experience, the day, were completely amazing and a sure sight to behold. Once I got over the smell, and the fear that they jump out of their bowls, tanks, or basins and attack me, I had a great time. There were more squid, octopi, fish of every colour, size, and shape than you could ever imagine. All the pretty old ladies working had their full make up done, but were decked out in a rubber apron, gloves and boots, slopping the fish around and owning the place. Highlights were the bowl of fish heads which made us sing, and the octopus that escaped his bowl and awkwardly tried to maneuver on dry land – phenomenal. The photos are a good start, although you really need to be there to fully capture the complete experience. It was a memorable day and I’ll probably go back….but I still hate fish.