Living space, Korean culture, and "I understand"

My Grandma Hester requested that I write about the place I live in. Good question! I don't know why I didn't think of that. When you first arrive, there are so many different and unique experiences to write about that it is difficult to choose. I live in a small town called Jilyang. The English Clinic or hogwan, as they call it, has two locations: one in Jilyang and one in Hyang, another small town just five minutes away by car. Jilyang is definitely a small town. Children walk around by themselves at night.

The apa (father in Korean) of my host stay family is a moxanim (minister), so I actually live on the top floor of a church! It is a one story apartment with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a porch with a nice view of Jilyang, which they use to hang clothes out to dry. I have my own bedroom! The middle child, Kimjimin, gave up her room with a bed for me to sleep on. She sleeps in her parents room. I don't think I would have minded sleeping on the floor like the rest of the family, but I did not refuse their hospitality. (We slept on the floor in Indonesia, and I slept very well.) The room is pink and very girly. The wallpaper is a tan color with peach and pink floral design. The desk has pink colored drawers with heart-shaped handles. The bed cover is pink with hearts and little blonde, pig-tailed girls and the english sentences: "I had to meet you here today. There's just so many things to say." English phrases are very popular, however, they are often jumbled with incorrect grammar. It's fairly humorous actually. Yesterday, Moxanim showed me their pet rabbits. When I asked their names, he said they didn't have names but joked..."number one, number two, number three, number four."

Here are some interesting parts of Korean culture:

• The towel used to dry off after a shower is the size of a hand towel. Actually, my whole first shower here is an experience worth writing about. I made an absolute mess in the bathroom. It still makes me laugh just thinking about it. They have a smallish- sized tub and a movable shower head. I didn't see the place where you could lock it into the wall, so I shampooed with my left hand and rinsed with the shower head in my right hand, and getting water all over the bathroom. Luckily...
• They have drains in the middle of the bathroom. So any water on the floor drains out. I think this is a brilliant idea that Americans should adopt. Floor drains would be useful for when our toilets overflow or for when we need to clean the bathroom floor.
• One more thing about bathrooms: You need special bathroom sandals to enter. I think the purpose of these is cleanliness. In many ways, I think Asian-style bathrooms are smarter than American-style bathrooms.
• Koreans, or at least the Kim family, have a big closet at the entrance of the apartment for shoes. You never walk around inside with your shoes on.
• Yesterday, I went to Costco in Taegu with my "family." On the way, I saw several stores where two girls in mini skirts stood on platforms outside, dancing and shouting. Kimchihey explained that they were advertising the store. "Come and see! We have this and this!" Isn't that interesting and funny?
• They also use speakers on the outside of vehicles to advertise. Companies pay for speaker advertising, and the advertising company drives vans around town to tell about new products. Chris explained this one to me when I was distracted during class by the sounds of one from a nearby window.

That's all for now, although I'm sure there are a dozen cultural differences I'm skipping.

Yesterday was lots of fun. I went to the market and a dollar store in Hyang with Jean and Emma in the afternoon. In the evening, my family ushered me around Costco, and I felt like a friendly freak-of-nature as they tried many food samples on me around the store. After every sample, they would examine my face and ask me, "Is it delicious to you?" I would either nod and say, "mashasoyo," meaning "delicious" or shake my head or say, "it's ok." The Kim family is working very hard to please me.

During much of the day, I wanted to say, "I understand the inner conflict you may be feeling. I know what it's like to entertain a foreigner." I remember feeding international students and hoping the food was edible by their standards, often to my dismay. I remember wanting to help, but needing to establish boundaries between my personal life and my availability for them. I remember feeling guilty once for wanting to maintain a personal appointment rather than take a student to the bank after we'd already spent the afternoon driving to Cedar Falls from the airport and getting her settled in her dorm.

As a welcomer, my desire was for the need to be met, but I was not always available to take a student to Walmart or to go look at cell phones. I think Jean and Emma might have had similar feelings yesterday. They may have volunteered their time, but secretly wished for a break from the exhaustion of the week. And I wouldn't be surprised if my family thought more than once, "Why doesn't she like that flavor? She only ate half of the bowl, drank half of the cup, or finished half of the plate." I have to choose my communication carefully. I do like some Korean food. I want them to understand that. Just because I don't finish that bowl of brown, lumpy soup does not mean I hate it and will never eat it again. Sometimes I'm just full, or I prefer one side dish to another.

Anyway, my friends and family have been very gracious to me, and I'm thankful. I wish I could tell them that I understand. I understand what it's like to help and entertain a foreigner.