Conversations and Korean Christianity

My relationship with my host family has improved considerably. Perhaps, in part, due to the space created through many consecutive days of "self-serving" lunch when Hyunsuk was busy visiting an ill church member or when she had another meeting to attend. Perhaps because we've fallen into routine.

Recently, I had two really great conversations with Jihey and Jimin.

Jihey and I sat after dinner on Sunday night, chatting about all sorts of things. Jihey finally questioned me about Nick...three months is a long time for a teenage girl to hold back such questions. I showed her my Korean book, and we talked about the differences in grammar and syntax. We talked about movies we wanted to see. We considered her career possibility as a counselor.

My conversation with Jimin rose out of my desire to read the box of tea packets I bought at the market. I needed a translator, and she happened to be enjoying a bowl of Ramyon (Ramen noodles) at the table. Somehow we got to talking about her dreams--to go to the United States and to sing. Both dreams surprised me, though all the time she spends on the Internet listening to music should have indicated.

Then she said something that really caught me off guard. She said, "Sometimes I don't like that my family is Christian." The comment gave me almost immediate understanding. Almost deja vous. I remembered how I felt at 13 among my peers.

She proceeded to explain how her parents don't like her to listen to any non-Christian music. And actually, they don't even approve of contemporary Christian music, but listen and worship only through old hymns. Singing rooms, which are quite the popular entertainment in Korea, are forbidden from her. When I asked her if she really believed that God opposed singing rooms, she said that yes, she thought He did. Or so she'd been told for years. I tried to recollect the goofy fun I had in a singing room in Seoul and imagine what could be so God-forsaken about it.

She confided in me with some things she has kept from her parents. I counseled her to know what the Bible says and doesn't say, yet to honor her parents, especially while she was living with them. I hope I said the right thing.

It seemed as though my months of awkwardness in their apartment made sense all of the sudden. I don't know why it's taken three months for me to have a relationship with these girls. JiMin said she wanted to talk to me every day, but she was shy about her English. I hope we can have a better relationship moving forward.

I had a pretty rough day today. Kids, particularly young boys, couldn't seem to stay in their seats. Many of them yelled responses to my questions, reaching an unacceptable decibel with their voices. One little boy cheated during a memory game, peeking at cards during someone else's turn. Another boy played with his cell phone, laid his head on his desk, and refused to exert any effort to actually answer the questions, but instead blurted out "C! A! B! D!"--one right after another until I nodded in approval at the right answer.

I cried at work today. Don't worry. I'm a frequent crier. I've never liked that part of my personality because it often freaks people out. Many people cry only when something very serious has happened. Someone has died. Or they break up with someone they love. But I cry out of stress.

Mrs. Joe thought it would be nice to order fried chicken and beer for me after work to soften the edge of my rough day. Her suggestion of the beer took me by surprise because I knew that Mrs. Joe was a Korean and a Christian, and actually, the last person I would expect to suggest alcohol as escapism. But it was delicious! And the company was great, too. Mrs. Joe, Agnes, and even one of the Korean moms joined me for some chicken and beer. The mom brought some wine to share with me.

She assured me that even moms have to yell at little boys, and frequently. Agnes taught me the phrase "Get out!" in Korean. She said they take advantage of me because I'm pretty, smiley, short, and overall non-threatening in appearance. Agnes says I need to practice my mean face, even in front of a mirror if necessary. She's right. I don't even know what my mean face looks like. I can't even imagine it.

Mrs. Joe said she used to cry a lot before she met Jesus. Agnes said she read once that crying is a gift from God because afterward, He raises our life back up again. I don't know if that's biblical or not, but I do know that the poet of Psalm 104 praises God for creating wine that gladdens the hearts of men. And Proverbs 31 says a king should refrain from drinking, but "give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish, let them forget their poverty and remember their misery no more."

Agnes offered me the remaining wine and beer for me to take home, but I told her I didn't think the minister would like it. I'd had enough anyway.