The sound of Duk in my ear

Duk (pronounced “Dook”) is a traditional Korean rice snack that is chewy and comes in white, green and other varieties. The fancier duk comes mixed with nuts and other healthy things. It is a mild but very palatable snack. I received some nicely wrapped duk from a student on White Day. It was good. Like popcorn, duk has its own unique sound when you eat it.

I was at my language institute graduation in early March when I first heard the sound of Duk. A parent standing behind me was busy eating it as the students were receiving their diplomas. If you ever heard the sound of Duk being chewed, you would know how tortuous it can be. The sticky rice, shaped in a square or rectangle takes a while to eat. It also requires the person to “suck” the duk from one’s teeth. This sucking sound is unmistakable duk. All duk eaters are required by Korean law to make this sucking sound while eating duk. It’s like slurping your rice noodles to make them cooler. All Udon eaters must do this too. It is an unmistakable Korean attribute.

For the next twenty minutes this lady was busy eating and sucking duk. The sound was unbelievable and annoying. She was behind me, standing, because all the seats were taken. She did not care that her duk sound was making me insane. It was like she was in my brain, slowing sucking the noodle membranes right from my ear. I couldn’t move. I focused more on the cute kids getting their diplomas but I couldn’t do it. She continued with the great sucking sound of Duk. It’s not a disgusting sound but it is severe in its consequences like water-boarding torture.

Here is what really happened at the graduation...

“We will make you tell us the location of the missiles, Mr. Farmer,” (“Palmer” pronounced by Korean’s as Farmer), “or suffer our consequences.” As I am sitting there, strapped down in the chair, they bring in a tall, good-looking Korean lady. She is holding a large tray of white and green verities of Duk which, by the way, taste the same to me. “Will you, tell us?” asks the interpreter? “No,” I exclaim trying to wrestle free from the chair. “Then so be it, Mr. Farmer.” The torture went on for twenty minutes. The lady slowly chewed her duk and made the great sucking sound. I got dizzy. I was unconscious at one point. My stomach hurt. I was weak with hunger and I could not resist her sadistic ways.

I confessed to the location of the secret missile silo. The spies released me in some back alley in Seoul. Not even the mangy looking dogs in this country would sniff me. I wind up in a mental ward for the next twenty years. Yes, blog reader this is the sound of duk. All will succumb to it without fail.