Kamsahamnida to arigato

After I'd finally said my goodbyes in Daegu, I dragged my bursting-at-the-seams luggage on a KTX and headed to Seoul. Fortunately, I was able to leave my bags at Annie's house while I spent the afternoon wandering around Itaewon. The market area is near an American military base and is full of multiculturalism. I found this shop with gorgeous dresses--many of them representing various ethnic styles. It felt like a dream until the salesclerk asked me when the party was, and I had to confess there was no party. I went to a small Turkish restaurant and tried a sweet Turkish drink called sekal with cinnamon topping. Mashisoyo!

I bought a new bag for my trip. It seemed to be the right move. I didn't want to get charged an arm and a leg for an overweight bag. And I knew that when I went to Japan I would want to do at least a little shopping.

In the evening, I met my friends at a buffet restaurant Jong selected in Sadang. It was a delicious way to transition from thinking about Korean cuisine to thinking about Japanese and American cuisine--a little bit of everything. Mostly I enjoyed being with my Korean friends with a new understanding of the foreigner lifestyle. Jackson, Jong, Raeann and Annie joined us for dinner. Then Bill and Juyoung came out for drinks afterward. We played Gong, gong, chil and reminisced. Bill shared about his recent experiences in Australia. I talked about my time in Korea and my plans in Japan. International travel is so much fun!

When I arrived in Narita airport, the crowds of foreigners with different mother tongues stimulated me as I waited in the immigration line. I kept wanting to ask, "Where are you from?"

The immigration officer questioned me briefly and let me pass. I bowed in habit and muttered, "Kamsahamnida!" then quickly realized I was no longer in Korea. I caught myself several times all day, and I'm gradually switching my kamsahamnidas to arigatos.

After I passed all the immigration and customs tests, Eriko's smiling face and waving arms greeted me immediately. We embraced--my mind full of surrealism. It took me ten minutes to realize that she was just the same. She always laughs when I laugh, oos when I "oooo," and ahs when I "ahhh..." It's pretty funny! My old Japanese friend is just the same.

We didn't do much yesterday because I was pretty tired from all of the busy packing and planning, but we did go out to a sushi-go-round restaurant last night. "Ouishi!" "Mashisoyo!" "Delicious!"

Goodbye Korea

I'm writing at a cafe next to my departure gate in Incheon Airport. Seemed like an appropriate time to take a few minutes and close out my blog in Korea. My last week has been a bit of a whirlwind, so I haven't found time to write.

Packing my bags, canceling my cell phone, training the new teacher, saying my goodbyes. These things take time. I suppose the string of goodbyes started last weekend with the bachelorette party, which was so much fun! I have to admit I was pretty nervous about it. Eli and Elise warned me that MingKi and I might be coerced into doing somewhat embarrassing tasks. Fortunately, we didn't do anything by ourselves, so it was less intimidating and more lighthearted fun. The details are better to be saved in my memory or more personal diary. What happens at Korean bachelorette parties stays in Korea!

Needless to say, I felt so loved by it all. I have my first stash of lingerie and an envelope of notes from my friends to show for it. On Sunday morning, Eli and Tharine got up in front of the church, described me with adjectives from each letter of my name and shared a list of memories. I teared up and shed a few as the congregation prayed over me.

On Monday, I thoroughly enjoyed teaching. I don't know why, but I just had a huge joy about doing it. I'm going to miss my students. On Tuesday, I was too busy with report cards, training Elina, and teaching to get emotional at all. Kind of strange, huh?

Monday evening, my host family gathered around the kitchen table for cake, chop che and goodbyes. JiHye and JiMin bought me small gifts--a pink Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, black purse the size of a human fist, a headband, and a facewash. (To be honest, gifts had started to become daunting at this point because my bag appeared to be bursting at the seems.) They both wrote me letters. Each apologized for not spending more time with me. While I sometimes wished we'd spent more time together, the apology seemed awkward and out of place to me. Afterall, JiMin gave up her bedroom for me, and JiHye got me out of several pickles during my stay. JiMin's letter included a great deal of browbeating. She cried a lot. I told her not to feel bad about our small friendship. I appreciated it anyway. I couldn't cry during the goodbye.

Then when everyone went to sleep I did cry. It was the only time I've really cried during this whole week. My manager said yesterday that I seemed happy to go. I cried as I was thinking about this:

JiMin really wants to come to the U.S. for high school, but she always says it's impossible because there's no money. I think about the way I felt in college as I started to meet so many international students. Particularly, the three close Japanese friends I had two years ago. Saying goodbye seemed so final. Sure, we'd say, "O maybe I'll see you again someday," but inside, we were saying goodbye for good.

As a senior in college, one of my professors really encouraged us to do the things in life that we really want to do. I knew instantly that my thing to do was to travel. So I did it! Somehow, by the grace of God, I flew across the globe to Korea and lived her for nearly 8 months. Today, I'm flying to Japan, and one of those very close Japanese friends is going to pick me up from the airport. How cool is that! I'm so thankful for my time in Korea.

And I have more hope that I'll see people again. It's not impossible. The world is only getting smaller and smaller.

Well, this is kind of ramshackled entry, but my plane is beginning to board, and I think I should get on. Maybe I'll write about Japan next.

Friendly competition

Amidst my small shopping spree last week, I pieced together a cute ensemble for my bachelorette party in Daegu. (It's coming this weekend!) But when I opened my closet last Saturday evening, my eyes settled on the purple top and black belt anyway. I couldn't resist. On a girly impulse, I dolled up in my new clothes and put on my new shiny black shoes I purchased off the internet to match.

The shoes, which were ordered on Thursday night, showed up Saturday afternoon at the hogwan. My high school students were kind enough to inform me that I would need a "band" for my feet and stockings. We went to a pharmacy at the end of class to get a band, which I discovered meant a simple band aid. What an idea: Pre-bandaging feet to prevent future blisters. Unfortunately, the shoes wound up being a waste of 8 bucks, even when I covered my achilles with band-aids. By the time I'd made it from Jilyang all the way out to my friend's apartment, my feel were already killing me! I already hated the shoes. Note to self: Don't buy shoes off the internet for 8 bucks. Yes, they were cheap, cute and quick to deliver, but so not worth it.

On Saturday night, Eli, Elise, Vanessa and I went to this pub called "The Bus." Part of the restaurant/bar was an actual bus. I thought this was pretty funny because I ride the bus a lot in Daegu, but I would never have considered it a hip place to go hang out. On the contrary, it's usually dull, dirty and has a tendency to cause motion sickness. I thought maybe hanging out at "The Bus" would change all this, but it didn't.

We had a good time there though. Brandon brought along one of his Korean friends from work named Eston, who brought along another Korean girl named Suji. Suji was as quite as can be (shy to use her English I think,) but Eston was the life of the party.

At some point in the middle of our fun and games, an arm wrestling match was proposed between Eston and Vanessa. (I've been trying to recall the events that led up to the match, but I really can't remember for the life of me.) Anyway, you might think an arm wrestling contest between a man and a woman is no contest, but you don't know this woman. Vanessa grew up on a farm in Oklahoma, played basketball through high school, worked for UPS part time, and is currently training to run a marathon. She has the biggest arms I've ever seen on a woman in real life.

I remember alerting Eston to her agriculture background, and he responded with a thoroughly made-up story about how he also grew up on a farm and used to sleep with the cows. Haha! Before the match, I heard Elise whisper to Vanessa, "Be careful. Guys are fragile."

Vanessa won after what I'm pretty sure was a fairly fake struggle. She won twice. Eston was in disbelief and kept saying her name over and over again all night in a friendly rivalry sort of way. In jest, he arranged for a rematch in one month on April 13th.

I've never been very good at competition. I don't mean that I'm not competitive, although I'd like to make that excuse. Nick never lets me. I just mean I'm not good at competition. I rarely win at games. But I enjoy watching.

On Sunday night, I taught "spoons" to MinWoo, JiHey and SoRi (Minwoo's friend, not to be confused with "sorry," though it sounds quite similar.) We played the first few rounds with the spoons on the table in front of us, and I did fairly well as the others got a handle on the game. Then, we started placing the spoons around the room instead--all three spoons in different spots.

Eventually, Minwoo and SoRi began to find interesting hiding spots. A couple of times they hid one behind the kimchi refrigerator, and we had to fish around blindly with our hands to find it. In one of my final rounds, I raced after the same spoon as SoRi and wound up in a tug-of-war for about 30 seconds. (Ok. Immature. But I wanted to stay in the game!) I succeeded, but we ended up calling it a no point.

Later when I was out, SoRi hid both spoons behind the refrigerator, which was clearly furthest away from JiHey.

"They are forming a guild," said JiHey, recalling her Korean SAT vocab.

Fortunately, she was the first to attain four of a kind and got a head start, but unfortunately, MinWoo and SoRi had too much of an advantage. JiHey chased after MinWoo and put him in a headlock to keep him away from the spoon! I was rolling with laughter and big sister understanding!

It was probably one of the best times I've had with my Korean family.

Music and fashion

This week, I took a leisurely dip into two aspects of Korean pop culture--fashion and pop music.

CN Blue's new song called something like...way-toe-ria, meaning "Alone" seems to have become a hit overnight. (That's probably not the case. It's just how it seemed to me.) On Saturday night, Eli and Elise couldn't get it out of their heads, so Eli downloaded it as a ringtone on her phone just to clue me in. Ten minutes later, the song played on the radio in the cafe where we were.

"They actually play instruments," commented Elise. That's actually pretty remarkable considering that most Kpop groups are singer-dancer combos these days. The song reminded me of Maroon 5 because of it's pop vocals and catchy feel, and I was quite surprised to find that it caught me. I couldn't stop singing it either!

On Monday, my elementary students wanted to play it on youtube. On Tuesday, several middle school students hovered over a cell phone for a singalong before class. By Tuesday night, I downloaded it myself. Today, SuJung translated the lyrics for me. It's a story about a man who feel alone because his lover appears to be always thinking about another guy. "Sad, sad, sad, sad, sad, sad, sad tonight! Casami apa!" (My heart hurts!)

In addition to my Kpop confession, I have to admit that on more than one occasion I've envied the Korean eye for fashion. (And that's something because anyone who knows me knows I don't have an eye for fashion.) Appearance matters in Korea, and while I think the idea to be relatively shallow, I really like dressing up for no reason other than to look nice. Some of the styles I've been hesitant to take part in because I know they have no place back in Iowa or on my body for that matter. For instance, if I remember correctly mini skirts and 4-inch heels have been either out or on their way out for some time now.

But others I just can't resist. For example, I found the feminine grunge combo-look of the flannel button down coupled with a black leather belt and skinny jeans to be quite adorable. Although, when I tried it on in a cheap clothes shop last night, I couldn't help but think, "this would look so much better if I were Korean." I bought it anyway! A small part of me fears that I will feel ridiculous wearing it in Iowa.

Ok: Confession. I've probably spent more money on fashion in Korea in the past 8 months than during the past four years of my life combined. Maybe it's because I'm making money finally. Or maybe it's because shopping overseas is kind of a fun adventure or because it's not hard to find a good deal with so many markets and cheap shops. In college, I scarcely shopped. There's nowhere to shop in Iowa and nothing to buy. (Ok, I'm hyperbolizing, but in comparison Korea, it's a fact!)

Throughout the past 8 months, I've bought 2 purses for 10 bucks, 3 pairs of jeans, about 8 to 10 shirts, 6 pairs of shoes (if I count a pair of cheap boots that broke after one month and the sneakers I needed to work out at the gym,) two belts, one coat, two scarves, one hat, a pair of mittens and a pair of gloves and several pairs of earrings and socks. Of course, it's not uncommon for a shirt at a market to cost 5 bucks. Do I feel guilty? Yes! At this very moment, I'm wondering if I should even post this at all, but the truth is shopping in Korea is so much fun!

A lot of the natives shop on the internet. I know Jihey does it that way, and SuJung often shops in her spare time at work. Unfortunately, a couple of purchases showed up this week looking and fitting pretty differently than she'd imagined, but she's had plenty of success, too. Shopping online is cheap. There are no shipping costs, and items arrive within only a few days! Tonight, we looked at shoes online. SuJung couldn't believe my ability to write off beautiful heels over 6 cm.

"I can't walk in them," I told her. She helped me find a pair of 3 cm heels for 8 bucks.

Yesterday it snowed. Today I went outside without a coat on.

Annie comes to Daegu and shaboo, shaboo

A couple of years ago, my friend Diana and I drove to Chicago to say goodbye to two international friends--Claire from Taiwan and Annie from Korea. The four of us spent a day walking around Chicago during the Christmas bustle complete with a fresh snow fall. Then we said our goodbyes. I really can't remember if there were tears or not.These are the sorts of people you think you'll never see again, but only God knew we would. On Saturday, Annie from Korea came to visit me in Daegu.

Despite not having seen or spoken in years, I realized that Annie is a great conversationalist, and we had a great time together. She could only afford one day, so we tried to make the most of it. I met her at the train station at 8 a.m. I almost didn't recognize her at first. Not sure if it's the hairstyle or just the maturity level but definitely different than I remembered. I asked her what she wanted to do, and she said, "Well, I just want to see your life here in Daegu." How nice to have someone take interest in my simple life!

So we went out for coffee and caught up on life. Annie just graduated with her degree in Applied Mathematics from Eewha Women's University in Seoul, which, as I discovered later from my student's reactions, is one of the most prestigious universities in Korea. We talked about career plans as we sipped coffee and culture shock as we walked around downtown. Then, we reminisced about our lives at UNI.

On the way to Jilyang, we stopped by Youngdae, where Annie showed me her favorite game at an arcade. It was one of those machines with three big colored buttons for each player, and several games to choose from. One of them included catching pieces of fruit and meat on a kebab skewer. Another involved opening toilet lids, lowering toilet seats, and sitting dummies down on the pot. The first player to successfully sit their row of dummies on toilet seats wins! I was so tickled by the creativity. I think I might have made a spectacle of myself with my laughter except that nobody really goes to an arcade in the morning.

Next, we shopped around at a small store with cheap jewelry, clothes, and stationary stuff. I purchased several items, including a pair of earrings that say "yes" on one earring and "no" on the other. (Works well for 20 questions!)

We ate lunch at a small pasta restaurant, and I had lasagne for the first time since I've come to Korea. ( Don't worry, Mom. It was nothing like your lasagne. I'll still be plenty ready for lasagne when I come home.)

Annie came to my class in the afternoon, and I was able to incorporate her into a game for the students. I think it was pretty cool for them to see an example of a Korean girl with excellent speaking skills. After class, I showed her some pictures from the past few years on my computer. Then, we took a taxi to the bus terminal and said goodbye for a couple of weeks. It turns out I'll be able to stay at her place on my way out of Korea.

As for the rest of my Saturday night, I met up with Eli and Elise for dinner, who've definitely made me feel a valuable member of their foreigner gang. It's hard for me to describe how valuable yet priceless their friendship has been and still is. They will definitely be my most difficult goodbye. We talked and hung out at a coffee shop for a bit, but I couldn't keep myself out late like I had before. I'm not used to waking up at 6:30 a.m. anymore. So I got home a little after 11.

On Sunday, I went out for shaboo shaboo with some friends. I heard about shaboo shaboo through Raeann and Jong. It's one of Raeann's favorite Korean foods. Then Annie said it was one of Diana's, too. Thought I'd better give it a shot. It's fun to find that there's more I haven't done in Korea.

Preferences

On Tuesday, the Kim family Korean lunch menu included a super delicious yellow croaker--a tender fish with a buttery, salty taste. I devoured the swimmer. Practically licked the bones dry before I even touched my rice. Hyunsuk was impressed. Americans like salty things, I explained. I'm sure she felt as if she got a bull's eye with that dish.

I came home at 9 p.m. after seven straight hours of class that evening, and saw two plates of omerice (omelet over mixed rice) on the table for me and Jimin. I like omerice, so I dug in hungrily only to discover that anchovies were mixed in with my rice. Er! Doesn't she know by now that I don't like anchovies? I thought. I picked at the egg part but couldn't bring myself to stomach another spoon full of anchovy-mixed-rice. I made myself a toasted PB and J instead. It took me quite a while before I figured out that her anchovy idea was probably a direct response to my comment about salty fish. Suddenly, I felt terrible about my inward rash reaction.

Wednesday's lunch menu was kimbob. (If you don't know kimbob, just think california roll with Korean insides like radish, crab meat, egg, and greens.) Generally, I like kimbob. I'm sure an attempt to recover from the flop of the omerice. The only problem is the kimbob was stuffed with that cheap individually-wrapped cheese singles, which anyone who really knows me knows that it's one of the only foods that I can't stand. The way it flips and flops like a flat piece of fat grosses me out, and I've never been real impressed with the flavor either. What could I do? I tried to eat a few pieces, but wound up picking the cheese parts out with my chopsticks for the rest. Hyunsuk couldn't help but notice,..."Sally, cheese...no?"

How could I explain? Last time, she made kimbob with cheese--it was the good cheese--the real kind--in my book, and it was delicious. "ummm...no, Mian hamnida." (I'm sorry.)

In one of my classes, we've been reading a story called "Mice and Beans." It's about this Latina grandma, Rosa Maria, who prepares a birthday party for her grand daughter, Little Catalina. But as she runs errands, cleans the house and cooks a special meal, little mice keep stealing things from her, even the mousetraps she sets for them. It's a fun story with lots of beautiful pictures and several Spanish phrases such as "no importa," "feliz cumpleanos," "frijoles," and "enchiladas." I thought it was the perfect opportunity for me to introduce a different pallet of flavors to my students.

I was out of salsa though, so I planned to go to E-Mart this week, but somehow the distance kept me from ever wanting to bad enough. (For the most part, I've enjoyed the public transportation, but I'm finally missing the convenience of a car and of my life in Iowa, when everything I need is just a five minute trip away.) Due to some recent schedule changes, I had extra time this afternoon and decided to make salsa myself. The mart had everything I needed, except the green chiles, which I discovered was an important ingredient. The final product smelled delicious, but tasted...well...not bad. I made another batch of those cheesy enchiladas and set out the food for my students, proclaiming a celebration for Little Catalina's birthday.

The smell of the fresh salsa consumed the classroom air. To me, it was a lovely aroma, but I think I saw one of the girls hold her nose at first. They tried the enchiladas...and ate them politely, but I can't pretend they liked 'em. Never got a clear reaction, but I'm pretty sure the girls were struggling with each bite. Boys eat most anything, but I don't think it was their thing either. Don't get me wrong! They were delicious by my standards. I tried to resist feeling unappreciated and offended, but I felt it anyway. I'd spent a good chunk of my afternoon preparing a new experience for my sheltered students, but they didn't seem to enjoy it like I wanted them to.

I came home today, feeling a little bit down. Not a great day for me. When I opened the door to the apartment, I cringed at the unfamiliar and awful smell that's been reeking up the kitchen for days. The refrigerator, which I opened to store the leftovers, let out even more unusual fumes. Then, without laughing, I realized the irony. My aversion to anchovies should not and does not diminish my appreciation of Hyunsuk's effort to please me with salty fish. Why did I take it so personally that they didn't like the smell of the salsa or the taste of the enchilada? My students' distaste for salsa and enchiladas hurt because of the effort I made to impress them with something special. At 12, they may not yet be mature enough to appreciate my effort anyway, but... well,... maybe I can appreciate my own effort.

Maybe I will tomorrow when I eat the leftovers.

I actually thanked God this week that it's okay to have preferences. Differences are not matters of right and wrong. They're just differences.

And speaking of differences, ideas about cleanliness and sanitation are so different here. I'm not kidding. Two full plates of that cheese kimbob sat out for more than 24 hours covered only by seran wrap. Then this afternoon, I saw JiMin frying up the kimbob with a little oil like it was no matter at all. I mean,...it's common knowledge in the states that cheese must be refrigerated. (Then again, not sure individual slices are really cheese at all.) Maybe it's ok when it's fried. But the truth is food that we always refrigerate gets left out all the time to be eaten later in this house. It reminds me of the time my room mate made fun of me when I absentmindedly served Nick a slice of pizza from the night before. She called me "hon," which always made me feel like a child. Was it really that bad? I'll have to tell her when I get home that people do it all the time in Korea, and I've never once gotten sick because of it. The Korean table is set so that everyone sticks their utensils in the bowl or dish, then take the food to their mouths and back into the public side dishes.

I was concerned about some expired cream cheese in the refrigerator the other day, and alerted Hyunsuk about it. She smelled it, then sampled it, and then assured me it was okay.

On the other hand, floors are sacred. The other day I went downstairs in sock feet to see a friend out, and Hyunsuk and Moxanim gawked loudly and laughed like it was the strangest thing. Sure, it's not the most sensible thing in the world to walk around in sock feet, but it's not really a problem either, right? Well, Moxanim rushed into the other room and found some slippers for me to wear. I rushed to the doorway and waved goodbye to my friends, and when I turned around, he insisted that I put on the slippers to walk back up to the apartment.

On the other hand,

Queen Kim Yuna gets the gold

I first heard Kim Yu-Na's name during my first week in Korea. My English camp students were required to report about a famous Korean person, and one of my students picked Kim Yu-Na. I actually remember asking, "Who is Kim Yu-Na?"

Yesterday, as I watched an online clip of Kim Yu-Na performing her free style program, I honestly thought to myself, "That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I remember being struck with a similar feeling when I watched a group of older dancers perform a lyrical routine for the finale at one of my dance recitals years ago. At the time, I couldn't imagine anything in all creation being more graceful and stunning than dance.

Kim Yuna was the word on the street all day long yesterday. Kim Yuna and her gold medal and new world record score of 228.56 for women's figure skating at the Olympics...though "Kim" and "Yuna" were the only two words I could understand on the street. I'm not kidding. I heard her name at least ten times on the bus last night as I rode downtown for Bible study. I did a Kim Yuna impression in the break room much to the amusement of my coworker, SuJung. We talked about Kim Yuna in my classes and had engaging discussions about the difficulty of figure skating versus speed skating.

One of my American friends, who has been in Korea for years, kind of chuckles at how proud Koreans are of her because, she says, Kim Yuna trained in Canada. Then again, I heard about an American woman in the ice dancing competition, who was representing Georgia, despite having never been to the country and barely completing citizenship requirements with enough time to compete. The lines of nationalism at the Olympics are being blurred everyday as our world gets smaller. If you ask me, Koreans have plenty to be proud of. She is Korean. And she's a wonderful artist and athlete.

In the Korea Times:

"With the gold medal, Kim became the first female skater ever to achieve the sport's grand slam - winning the titles from the World Grand Prix Final, Four Continents Championships, World Championships and Winter Olympics ."

What always shocks me about the Olympics is how young the athletes often are! Kim Yuna is 19 years old.

I have to confess I don't even know for sure how the US is doing. I can't get a feed from NBC in Korea, so I have to download each event individually, which I know isn't super good for my hard drive. And I haven't taken much time to read the headlines until right now. O ok...8 golds, 13 silvers and 13 bronze.

I do know that one of my students used the words "Apolo Ohno" and "loser" in the same sentence the other day. Christi said Koreans detest Ohno because he supposedly caused a Korean skater to get disqualified during the Salt Lake City Olympics and unrightfully brought home the gold medal. (Interesting tidbit, I suppose.) According to FOX, he's the most rivaled athlete in South Korea. Having witnessed Korean national pride first hand, this doesn't surprise me. Plus, Ohno is half-Japanese. It only takes about ten minutes worth of Japan-related conversation with a Korean over the age of 20 to figure out how they feel about Japan.

Anyway, to be honest, I don't even know the names of our major athletes this year. I know of Apolo Ohno as well as Meryl Davis and Charlie White in the ice dancing championships. I know of Kim Yuna, Lee Jung Soo and Mo Tae Bum. And when I saw Kim Yuna choke up after a perfect performance on Friday, I felt really happy for her!

O Korea, you're funny!

Playing

Hyunsuk babysat MinHi, a little girl from the church, yesterday morning. MinHi is as friendly and charming as Korean girls come.

I sat down for breakfast with a slice of peanut butter toast and milk, and MinHi joined me with her half-eaten bowl of mixed rice in a Pororo bowl. "Mashisoyo!" she said as she watched me eat out of the corner of her eyes. I pointed to various objects on her pajamas and asked her what they were and if she liked those objects. (Learned the word for star.) As I was eating, she was fiddling with a pink, plastic air pump. Seemed to be impressed with the sound it made or with

her own strength working against the pressure.

After I tested my limited Korean, she assumed I spoke the language and proceeded to play with me in Korean. The stuffed cheetah Nick gave me as a going-away gift and hug-substitute made a handy toy. Guided by my invisible hands, the cheetah tickled MinHi and then hid under the table. Later, as I started getting ready, MinHi used the pink air pump to inject medicine into the various "apo's" (pains) of the "horangi," which I later discovered meant "tiger." MinHi used the air pump to feed the "tiger" "ooyoo" (milk.) Then, as I discovered through repetition, she put the "tiger" under my bed, so it could go to the "hwajangsil" or bathroom. (It took me some time to realize what MinHi meant with the pissing sound, but when I realized, I couldn't help but laugh out loud.)

Children are the best language instructors. Maybe because they don't quite comprehend that you don't speak their language. I enjoyed playing in Korean, and MinHi's charm made me hungry to learn. I'm going to miss the Korean language.

Singing

Raeann and Jong came to Daegu to visit me last weekend. I took them to do Doctor Fish--an experience which made Raeann squeal and squeeze my hand really hard for about ten minutes. Then we shopped, met up with Eli, Elise and Vanessa for samgyubsal, (which is like Korean grilled bacon with lots of side dishes,) and went to NoRaeBang (singing room.) In an effort to persuade Elise's company, I made a bet with the girls that we wouldn't be in the NoRaeBang for more than an hour. I remember the first time I went to a NoRaeBang, and I really got pretty bored after about 40 minutes of singing. But much to my surprise, we did sing past an hour, and I was perfectly content to keep going. I think it takes some time to get used to the shamelessness of singing in Korea.

Eating

I met my friend Christi for coffee yesterday. We talked for two hours, and before we knew it, I was going to be late for work and hadn't eaten lunch. So we walked across the street to a KFC to grab something to go. Glossing over the menu, Christi said she was going to have the "smart" one. I located the smart one, wondering why it was called smart, and it was then that I realized it was the only set under 1,000 calories. Korean fast food places always post the calorie content on the menu, so customers know exactly what they're putting into their body. Suddenly awakened to the health factor, I ordered the twister, which was a little over 300 calories, without the set and ate an orange, given to me by a friendly Korean man, on the side.

At about 4:30 p.m., I headed to Hayang to teach and stopped by another KFC to answer a fresh rumbly in my tumbly. On the snack menu in Korea, there is a one piece chicken snack: 1,000 won (about $1), 90 calories. I ordered that as well as a side of corn salad. (No mashed potatoes at Korean KFC.) The lady in a white paper hat told me the single strip would take ten minutes to fry. (Evidently, they don't keep a bunch sitting around in the back.) I sat down to read my Bible and wait for my strip. Eventually, they called out my order, and I went to pick up my strip and a packet of honey mustard arranged in a white basket big enough for a full set. The lonely chicken piece struck me as comedic in the basket, so I had to take a picture.

I love how health conscious Koreans are, but ...O Korea, you're funny!

One of my professors used to say how silly it is when people go to a new place, admire it's wonder, and say, "Maybe I should come back here someday!" Humans have a tendency to switch in reflective mode prematurely, which takes away from the joy of the moment. Maybe it's the devil's way of stealing contentment. I think I've fallen into this trap. I'm trying to resist a countdown, but I have one going anyway. I have one month left in Korea. 34 days until I come home.

So many exciting moments to come: WooBang Towerland with JiMin on Monday, a bachelorette party for MingKy and I on the 20th, and then my trip to Japan. Stay tuned!

Skiing, New Year's and V-Day

If I were to rank my top ten days in Korea, I think last Saturday would be in my top five. I remembered something about myself this weekend--something that is so Calcara in me and something that I'd forgotten for the last five years or so--I love skiing.

Skiing: "Hera!"

Eli, Tharine, Elise, Vanessa, Renee and I woke up at 4:00 a.m. to catch a 4:50 a.m. bus to HighOne Resort, which in East Korea. The trip was 3 and a half hours long each way, but the bus was fully equipped for sleeping passengers--purple curtains on the windows, big chairs that recline easily, dim lighting, nice heating. We slept most of the way there, and to my surprise, most of the way back, too.

For the most part, skiing in Korea is the same as skiing state-side with the exception of a few distinctions. Number One: Green circles, blue squares, and black diamonds are used to denote beginner, intermediate and advanced slopes in the U.S. Green, orange and red are used in Korea. Number Two: Burgers and chili dogs are replaced by ramyon, kimbob, dumplings and

spicy soups for lunchtime possibilities. Number Three: My red Columbia coat, which stuck out like a sore thumb among the peacoat fashions in the city, looked rather drab against the bright-colored and sometimes animal-shaped fashions of Korean skiwear. I saw a man in a cat suit with cat ear-hood and a white belly and a woman in a neon-yellow, plaid ski suit. Also, animal hats that tie under the neck are really, really popular here for kids. I'm thinking I might bring one back for my dad, who likes to wear winter hats that embarrass us all. Just kidding! (I love

you, Dad. Thanks for the Valentine's card.)

We sailed the slopes from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. with a lunch break of course. Half of us skied, and half of us snowboarded, and some of us started on snowboards and switched to skis when the going got rough. As group trips often go, we started out all together on the bunny slopes but broke up into groups due to different ski and boarding skill levels. Renee and I split for an expert hill pretty early on when she somehow convinced me it was a good idea. I wiped out twice on the way down. After my first wipe out, I decided to ignore my anxious reticence because it seemed to lead me to fall. Instead, I embraced the speed, which...consequently, led to another wipe out and a lecture from a Korean man about going too fast and braking properly.

Embarrassing. I've been skiing plenty long enough to know what wedge is. I guess I probably deserved the lecture though. Renee said I was really flying.

After lunch, Renee, Vanessa and I decided to hit up the intermediate slopes. All of the slopes at High One were named after Greek gods. The beginner slopes were called Zeus, the advanced were Apollo, and the intermediate slopes were Hera. Hera was the wife and older sister of Zeus and the goddess of women and marriage. Anyway, on Saturday, the word reminded me of the Korean word "hera" which means "Do it!" I sometimes say this to my students to get them going, "Bali hera!" or "Hurry! Do it!" I kept thinking about this meaning of hera as I started each run, only this time "bali" was far my self-instruction. Having readopted my hesitation, I told myself, "There's only one way down this mountain. (Not entirely true, as there were a few

other slopes that began at the same point, but this is psychology, you understand

.) There's only one way, so hera! Do it!" The "Hera" slopes were my favorite ones...not quite so out of control, but challenging enough.

The snow on Saturday was not all packed and not all powdery but a combination of the two types. Breaking too hard on powdery snow results in a wipe out. Breaking too gently on packed, icy snow results in either a wipe out or an uncontrollable and unwanted acceleration. The difficulty lies in distinguishing the two types with visual judgment.

As I said before, I love skiing. I love the intense personal focus required by a challenging slope. Weaving down the mountain on two parallel strips, I am silent, rhythmic, concentrating, discerning, exhilarated and delighted by the cool air and the fast dance. Skiing is both a group activity and an individual activity. (This suits me as well.) One cannot let others ski for oneself. One must get oneself down the hill. Yet external encouragement and assisting others is

imperative. One ought not ski solo.

In addition to my love for skiing, another beautiful thing about this Saturday was the host of admiring thoughts that surfed through my brain about the incredible character traits of my friends. My friends are super cool. Tharine, from South Africa, was courageous enough to try snowboarding even though she only just saw snow for the first time this winter. Eli, from Maryland, loyally stuck by her all afternoon even as they switched from snowboards to skis midway through. Elise, from Florida, snowboarded through umpteen falls with determination and improved greatly by the end. Vanessa, from Oklahoma and only a second-time skier, graduated herself from beginner slopes and gracefully tackled intermediate ones with impressive athleticism. Renee, from Los Angelos,...well...Renee is a great story. This thirtyish, half-Chinese, half-Korean left her high-paying job with Fidelity in LA to come find herself in Korea. Without a job or a schedule, she spends her days training to run a half-marathon, praying for others, and lifting us all with her spirit. Her presence is an example of living from one's heart.

With this inspiring comrade, I danced the Korean slopes all day long, make-up-less and free-spirited. We got back by 8 p.m., ordered a pizza and watched a British comedy together.

Vanessa and I washed our friends dishes as a token of our appreciation to Eli, Elise and Tharine, who serve us with unceasing hospitality.

Lunar New Year

I came home after church on Sunday to discover, much to my exhausted dismay, the church was locked up, and my host family had gone to visit relatives. It's the Lunar new year in Korea. For most families, the Lunar New Year is a day which they recognize and honor their ancestors by cooking Korean food for their spirits. Eli showed me a video of her family's ceremony on Sunday morning. They set out all of this food and move the chopsticks around the table to allow the ghosts to eat from each dish. The men dress in hanbok or wear a nice suit and bow to the ghost guests. Also, children bow to their grandparents and receive pocket money for the next month or so. But Korean Christians don't usually observe the lunar new year in the same way. Instead, they just visit family, eat and travel.

I met up with my host family for their traditional dinner in KyungSan. The mood was similar to Thanksgiving in America. Casual. Watching TV. Eating. Enjoying the company of relatives. Not a big deal. The only distinguishing features were the food, the respectful bowing to one another and a little yorkshire terrier, which they dressed in Hanbok. To my relief, Moxanim drove me home before they visited more relatives. I was pooped.

Dreaming of my Valentine

Last night, I had a dream that I was riding on a bus with a friend to an unknown destination. I got off at her stop. She took me to her home and showed me around.

"Isn't it nice to have a home?" I said to my friend. "Isn't it nice to have a place to come and just rest?"

At that moment, my phone rang. It was Nick!

"Hey Babe," He said casually. "So where are you? I was just thinking you should stop by and try some of that chicken I told you about...and maybe I could get started on that story, too."

Typical Nick and Sally activities--food and stories. Warmth filled my body at the thought of breathing in the same air as the love of my life. Was it possible? Then my heart sank, and my dream self realized aloud, "But I don't know where I am, and I don't have a car..."

I woke up. It was 3:30 a.m., and my throat parched. I went to the kitchen for a glass of water, then lay back down. I tossed and turned for about 20 more minutes just thinking about how unnatural it is to be so far away from someone I love so much and for so long.

My life feels so dichotomized right now. When I'm busy doing something on the weekend, then I feel so happy to be in Korea with people I love to be around, doing things I love to do. When I have down time, which is quite a bit during the week, then I miss the person I love the most, and I can't wait to be with him again.

Teaching preschool, more food experiments

Here are some highlights and lowlights of my week:

• We now official have a pre-school class, and we even have a 2 foot tall table with little chairs to prove it. My first class was kind of disaster. A five-year-old girl MiYoung started to cry while we were practicing our numbers. Sung-Ah was happy, but loud and hyperactive as usual. Joon-Woo, also 5, didn't think head-and-shoulders-knees-and-toes was a good idea at all and sort of just stared at me while I tried to teach it...the others followed his lead.
• On the bright side, Sung-Ah now loves me and publicly announced it in English! The reasons for her change of heart are unknown.
• Failed vocabulary review questions made me aware that I had mistakenly explained to two students that the word "runny" in English meant the same thing as "runny nose." Taking two steps back, I used Sunny 10 soda, honey, ketchup, juice and salad dressing to demonstrate the meaning of runny with greater clarity.
• Tested the enchiladas out on a small panel of Korean judges to see what they would think. (Mexican food is not popular in Korea, so many of them looked at the dish with curiosity.) Mrs. Joe scrunched her face up and shook her head. Clearly not a fan. SuJung said she only likes Korean food. But SuJung and Patrick thought they were delicious! As well as one of my middle school students who tried some. Hyunsuk said they were ok. Moxanim didn't give me a comment.
• In the mood to cook, SuJung, my fellow foodie, and I spent our "tutoring" time making tortilla pizzas together in the small kitchen at work. We sauteed red, green, and yellow bell peppers, mushrooms and onions in a little olive oil, then added in the organic spaghetti sauce we purchased at Costco. Next, we put the tortilla in a peculiar-looking stovetop pan (not sure about the name of it,) added the vegetable mixture, and topped it with pizza cheese. We sandwiched it with another tortilla, hoping to create a quesadilla feel, but when we flipped the pie, it sort of fell apart. It was delicious anyway! And a really good time!
• Having expired my health club membership, I walked up and down the block in the rain yesterday to relieve my feeling of sedentariness. It's too bad that the timing of it's expiration so happened to be the same week I started consuming sour cream and cheese at an American rate.
• I'm looking into teaching English online and got my first lesson request. I hope I'm doing this the right way.
• Thanks to the assistance of my mother and friends, we finalized decisions on a DJ for the reception and on invitation designs. Nick proposed to me exactly one year ago today. Four months to go!
• It's snowing today, and I'm going skiing with my friends tomorrow!

Costco, God-talk, and enchiladas

When Patrick invited me along to Costco, I think I outwardly cringed at the idea. I remembered the last time I went to Costco with my host mom and three other Korean women from the church. My whole Saturday night disappeared because Costco is pretty far away and takes a long time to shop through four floors of everything, especially when they are four different interest groups to consider. The night had seemed even longer because none of the women spoke English, thus none of them really spoke to me, but talked amongst themselves in Korean. I didn't know where we were going, how long we would be gone, or when we would be going home. I think we left at about 6 p.m. and returned by 10:30, but it seemed much more frustratingly long at the time. It was after that trip that I established a new personal rule: Don't get in a car with your host family on a Saturday night unless you know exactly where you're going and how long the trip will last. Anyway, most of the sandwich ingredients wound up being subpar anyway, so I lost interest with wholesale shopping altogether. I decided it was better to eat delicious Korean food than average American experiments.

I didn't want to spend my night at Costco, however, when I finished work on Saturday, I decided to go along for the Costco trip anyway. The end of the academic year in Korea is soon approaching, so Mrs. Joe wanted to buy gifts for the students who would graduate elementary school and corn dogs as treats for all the students. She needed Patrick for his Costco card, and SuJung just went along for the ride, too. The four of us shopped around for school supplies and settled on a jumbo-case of colored pens and notebooks with various designs--materials which we would package into wholesome, studious gifts for the kids. We also browsed some English reading materials for three-year-old Sung-Ah's class, which now has...can you believe it?...four students. The other three are about five, though. It was kind of weird at first to be hanging out with work people on the weekend, but I kind of liked it, too.

My impulsive decision to attend the work trip to Costco came from a desire to somehow make use of all the cream of mushroom soup Hyunsuk bought for me a month ago. Nicole shot me a Facebook message a while back with a simple recipe for chicken enchiladas, including the mushroom soup, cream of chicken soup, tortillas, shredded chicken, sour cream and cheese. Having expired my gym membership and needing a new hobby, I thought I would cease the opportunity to shop for groceries and give them a try. I was delighted to find all of the ingredients I needed at Costco, except the cream of chicken soup. A 5 lb. bag of shredded Land O' Lakes mild cheddar cheese excited me so much in the frozen food aisle that I didn't notice it cost 25,000 won until I checked out. (A little less than $25. Yikes!)

After Costco, we went out for Indian food as a successful team of shoppers. We walked in to find the place had clearly become a foreigner hangout. English conversation came from a large group of various ethnic representatives at the table in front of us as well as a small group of people behind us who were clearly from the UK. We ordered curry and nan (I love nan!) and chatted about what would become of the hogwan when my replacement arrived.

As the big group got up to leave, Patrick's ex-girlfriend from Canada turned around and greeted him. It might have been a bit of an awkward encounter for them, but I was so pleased to meet the woman from whom Patrick gained a window into Western culture. He always talks about her as well as his days as a student in Canada. She was really cute! But when she left, he seemed relieved.

We ordered a yogurt-like, dessert-drink called lassi to cool our pallets from the spicy curry. Then out of the blue, Mrs. Joe asked me if I go to church anymore. Next, she launched into something lengthy directed at Patrick. I don' t know if it's because my Korean has actually improved or it was just my Spirit or perhaps context clues, but somehow I knew she was having a God-talk with him. And he, like a respectful Korean man, listened and nodded politely. I dismissed myself to go to the bathroom and when I returned, she was still talking... and he listening.

Later, Patrick told me that she said something like this: "I'm not going to tell you that you have to go to church, but I am going to say that sometime you should consider whether or not someone created this world."

Her gentle nudge was a perfect set-up for our first real conversation about Jesus. I told him that I wouldn't be in Korea if I didn't believe in God, who had shown me just how beautiful the world was and given me a desire to see it. I also said that even though many people think of Christianity as a Western phenomenon, some of Jesus teachings were much more Korean-like in nature. Jesus' emphasis in the interests of others over one's self, for example, is much more exemplified through Korean culture than American culture. Though I may be partial to the American way, the servant attitude that Koreans have about hospitality is very Christ-like. These ideas impressed him, Patrick told me, and surprised him.

We talked for quite a while. At one point, I said, "You know. It probably took Mrs. Joe a lot of courage to say what she said. Christians are fully aware that talking about Jesus is an awkward thing in modern culture." He responded by understanding that it was a duty to tell others and suggesting half-jokingly, "Why don't you talk to me about it more often?"

Meanwhile, my friends were out for another night on the town. After much debate but feeling a fresh buzz from the God-talk, I decided to join my weekend buddies, again. We had a blast, again, but to be honest, I think I need to stop going out so much. It's so expensive! A taxi ride here, a dinner there, a cocktail or two...it adds up fast. I need to save my money for Japan. A train ride from Tokyo to Osaka costs $120! But next weekend is a holiday, and a ski trip to a mountain near Seoul is being planned...ugh! The New York Times headlines that show up in my email about the U.S. economy don't ease my guilt either. I'm torn between wanting to save and wanting to just cease the opportunity for celebration!

One thing definitely worth celebrating was that chicken enchilada I ate tonight. Great idea, Nicole! Little pieces of chicken, cream of mushroom, a small handful of rice (thought of that addition myself,) and cheese wrapped in a tortilla with a dollop of sour cream and salsa on the side! Yummy! My belly is satisfied with full-Western-fat of creamy, cheesy, Tex-Mex. I'll sleep well tonight!

American food escapades, Hyo Rin, and stubbornness

I had another dream last week about food. I dreamed I was at home with my mom. We were contemplating dinner options and wavering back and forth between making homemade lasagne or getting Subway. I woke up thinking about a saucy, cheesy and meaty lasagne, and another rice and fish lunch wasn't going to satisfy my cravings.

The dream inspired me to set up a dinner date with my two favorite Korean co-workers, SuJung and Patrick. On Thursday night, after work, we would jump into Patrick's car and head straight for Outback Steakhouse for an all-American meat and potato meal. SuJung and I actually spent quite a bit of time on the Outback Web site, thinking about what we might order. We were set!

However, Outback Steakhouse isn't open at 9:30 p.m. on a weeknight. The darkened Outback sign was a pretty big disappointment, but we were hungry. So we wound up driving all over Daegu in search for a similar steakhouse. When Outback was closed, we tried TGIF. Then we spotted a well-lit restaurant called VIPS and went in to discover they had just closed. So we went downtown for new ideas, our hunger pains grew with each failed attempt and our mini complaints doubled in frequency. We tried a spaghetti restaurant Patrick knew, but it was also closed. Finally, I took my two Korean friends to that ethnic food restaurant I had been one time with Eli and Tharine.

By 10:30, we were finally filling our stomachs with food. I ordered a steak and potato meal, which was delicious to me at the time, but in hindsight, far from the flavors I had craved. Many Korean restaurants drench their steaks in sauce. I don't know if it's because the meats not actually that good or maybe because sauce is characteristic of most Korean foods, but it was definitely not prepared in an American fashion. And I actually had to request extra salt for the potato. Still, we ate a bunch, sampled each other's entrees and had a great time.

SuJung fell asleep in the back on the way home, and Patrick and I talked about our students the whole way back to Jilyang. I told him that little Hyo Rin is my cutest student. She's about seven years old. She always wears her hair in two long braids, and she loves English class. She's so good these days that she's now in a class full of boys that are a few years older than her and much more rowdy. Fortunately, I think her innocent presence keeps me from losing my temper. I told Patrick that sometimes I wish I could adopt her, take her home and let her sit in the corner of my bedroom to ask me questions about English whenever she wants. Sounds sort of awkward when I say it aloud. Haha! Here is a picture of me with Hyo Rin and Bon Hyuk.

Anyway, on Friday, Bon Hyuk and Hyo Rin were coloring pictures when Hyo Rin said to herself..."Beautiful!" I agreed. Hyo Rin looked at me and said with a sudden confidence, "Teacher, you beautiful!" My heart melted in delight.

On Saturday night, Eli and Elise, who had heard about my Western grub escapade, took me to The Holy Grill, where I had the best Western food I've eaten in Daegu thus far. We shared brushetta for an appetizer. Unable to decide between the Tex-Mex menu and the Holy Cow, Elise ordered the double-pattied cheese burger, and I got the enchilada, then we split the entrees. It was so delicious! By Monday, my cravings had been fully satisfied, and I was able to enjoy fish and rice again.

One of the lessons I've learned about kids is that sometimes you have to be willing to play the stubbornness game with them. I mean you have to be willing to calmly be more stubborn than they are. On Friday, I tested these boundaries when a girl refused to give me her test paper because she was afraid of the results. She had refused another time a couple of weeks ago, and I had to have Patrick persuade her a few days later to give me the paper. She had left four questions blank.

On Friday, she again refused, and I decided I would keep the students in class until she gave me the paper. In my mind, I figured she'd give in once she realized that all of her peers were waiting after class for her. I calmly announced that we could leave as soon as I had all four papers.

You wouldn't believe it! The students waited 25 minutes after class for this girl to give me her paper--that was fifteen minutes into the next class' time. Several Koreans went into the room and spoke to the kids in Korean while I waited, guarding the door. Finally, Patrick (I don't know what it is about him) was able to convince her after five or ten minutes to give me the test. She got 6 out of 8 points correct!

I don't know if that was the right thing or not, but I feel like it's important that she recognizes me as a teacher and doesn't try me like that anymore. Foreign teachers, who don't speak Korean, can be taken advantage of by kids who do. Language is power.

Tonight, I made an English-only rule in one of my conversation classes. I counted Korean "strikes" on the board for each student. I was amazed at the results of this rule. Minwoo usually talks a lot to his friend in Korean while I teach, but he was speaking a lot less and speaking in English. I may have to do that more often!

My evolution as a teacher

Sometimes simplicity brings the sweetest results. Removing one bored and unchallenged student from a class can open up other students to learning in ways one never thought possible. Good ole flash cards can be more effective than any fancy online vocabulary system.

I realized about one month ago that a couple of my students were simply not absorbing any of the vocabulary words they were learning. After a couple of disappointing review sessions, I resolved to maintain a set of flash cards for all of their vocabulary words--a habit I forfeited after realizing how tedious it was to keep up cards for a dozen different classes. But JiSu and Guen Woo needed it! I also started to crackdown on the unfinished homework problem.

I'm pleased to say these simple efforts bred spectacular results. At first, the vocab quizzing cost us nearly twenty minutes of class time. I started setting aside difficult cards for second reviews, but gradually the second review pile receded. Then tonight, JiSu whizzed through her flash cards, and I couldn't contain my happiness. I ran around the desks and gave her a good shoulder squeeze, telling her how proud I was.

Recent wedding plans have forced me into forward-thinking, but when I leave work these days, I wish I didn't have to give up teaching my students. My evolution as a teacher is something that makes me laugh and smile. It's sort of this comic strip in my head.

In the first box, I am a scared and lonely cartoon. My inner monologue says something like "Please like me, kids. I'm nervous and alone!" During this phase, I acted pretty weak as a teacher because I felt pretty powerless in general. I prayed just to get through each day of classes.

In the second box, I'm sort of an entertainer--like the ringleader of a circus or a magician pulling new tricks out of her hat to wow kiddy eyes. My thought bubble in this box says: "You thought yesterday was fun. Wait until you see what we're going to do today!"

3rd box: I'm noticing that their amazement should be no substitute for a lack of learning. Plus, I'm running out of ideas. I waver back and forth between carrots and sticks, but decide carrots are easier and tear-proof. My speech bubble: "I'll give you one piece of candy if you do your homework, two pieces if you answer this question, and heck, if you're a good little boy, then we can eat the whole bag and play UNO for twenty minutes of class." (I'm hyperbolizing, but you get the idea.)

4th box: My class room is a zoo because of my easygoingness, and I'm a bit dumbfounded. "How did they become such monsters?" Thought bubble to follow: "O...I made them that way."

5th box: I decide it's time to be a disciplinary, even if some kids hate me. Speech bubble: "This is English class. If you're not here to learn, then 'na ga!'" That's Korean for "Get out!"

6th box: I'm finally comfortable being a disciplinary unapologetically. I've figured out a few things about rowdy boys and whiny girls, and more importantly, I've learned that planning a successful lesson is different from teaching successfully. Patrick informs me that I should test the students at least once per month to make sure they're really learning. Funny, it should take so long for someone to mention tests to me. I start initiating flashcards and regular quizzes. My classroom games change from UNO and Go Fish to jeopardy review. I guess this is the box I'm currently in. I had a few teaching moments today.

I tried to explain to SuJung the differences between see, look and watch. See is the general ability of the eyes, look is directed toward one object or person, and watch is directed toward a moving object. We watch TV and baseball games. We say "Look at me!" but "Watch me dance!" We looked out the classroom window, and I told her that I could see the market, the street, the fence, the cars--all in my peripheral vision--but that I was looking at the tree.

In another class, teaching was more of a chore. I got frustrated when a couple students couldn't remember to conjugate for he and she in the simple present tense. It seemed as if they were just slapping a sentence in their notebook without much thought. I ditched my lesson plan and drew a giant chart on the board with I, You, He, She, We and They on the left side and six different verbs written across the top. One by one, the students rolled dice to determine the pronoun and the verb, and then wrote the correct form for each on the grid. Anytime they conjugated for he/she, for example, "she studies," I asked them to color in the box if the verb contained an "s" at the ending. My hope is the long repetitive task will drill into their brain--I play, and you play, and he plays the piano. Tune in next week to see if it works!

For a different class, I've asked students to answer the question, "Why do we study English?" for homework. We made a list of English-speaking countries. Then I asked them to come up with three famous Korean people who use English in everyday life.

If my current comic box had a speech bubble, it might say something like: "English matters. So learn it!"

Little kid fun, Big kid fun

Last night, I had a dream that I was asked to teach a journalism course at UNI. I was given a topic, but I had to invent the curriculum for myself, so I printed a bunch of journalistic photos off the internet and came up with discussion questions for the events in each picture. And it worked out for the first class...then I was back to square one.

That's sort of how the science/conversation class for winter "break" has been--the class with the two brothers and JiWoo. When I told them on Wednesday that Friday was our

last class, they were visibly and audibly disappointed, which made me feel that maybe my ramshackle efforts paid off. On Friday, I had them write letters to their parents about what they learned in English class, then we went outside and played a version of tag where "it" can only step on certain playground colors. (We've had fairly nice weather here this week.) The game had been taught to me by other students: twin girls, You Rim and You Jin, their third

muskateer, Hajin, and little miss English genius, Anna.

I also took these four outside this week upon the order of Mrs. Joe, who hopes the people of Jilyang will see me playing in English and sign their children up to study with "Sally teacher." When she told me the plan, the thought of entertaining four eleven-year-olds in a small town with my limited Korean was unfavorable. Fortunately, the kids had a few ideas about what we should do. First, we ate kimbob and dukbooki and a small Korean diner, then we went to "Bang! Bang!"--a giant trampoline inside a carnival tent with balls and children bouncing everywhere. Dangerous, but fun anyway. We played a few dodgeball variations and duck, duck, goose, and in general, had a good time. As a post 40-minute workout refreshment, the girls insisted that we go to the market for ice cream. Finally, we went to the craft shop to buy supplies for a class project. It was a little girl afternoon.

Last weekend, Raeann and Jong, friends from my Snow Mountain Ranch summer of 2006, met up with me in Seoul. Raeann and I stayed up until 3 a.m., catching up on every major life event during the last four years. On Sunday, the three of us plus Raeann's brand new, fresh-off-the-plane, Canadian coworker drove around Seoul in Jong's car, listening to N'Sync and looking for a Dr. Fish spa to no avail. Instead, we ate a late Korean lunch and went to N'Seoul tower. We parked at the base of the mountain and hiked up the steep 20-minute stretch to the landmark. An orange and pink Seoul sunset backdropped the city landscape from at 1,574 feet above sea level. It's actually the shortest among major towers in the world. It's kind of strange, but they were practically advertising this fact. Quite a few tourists circled the observation deck and several attractions at the top, including a photo booth, tarot card readings, and a press-a-penny machine, only for Korean won obviously.

At the bottom of the tower, there was a big porch covered in padlocks of different colors, shapes and styles. Jong told us people select a padlock with their love, lock it around the fence and throw the key off the mountain to symbolically vow everlasting love. He did it once with his ex-girlfriend. Even more ironic, there's a sign that says, "Don't throw away your key!" on the fence.

The twenty minute hike down in the dark got us lost, so we had to take a taxi back to our car. It was pretty funny. We were all exhausted, but Raeann's new coworker, Rebecca, hadn't slept since the plane ride, hoping to hoodwink jet lag in order to regulate her schedule. I kept making jokes about Canadians being super laid-back, and Rebecca was a good example of that. Poor girl. After a long day, we decided a little American food would hit the spot. We bought a Papa John's pizza and ate until our stomach's were satisfied.

I know it's been a little while since I've written about my adventures in Korea. I sort of ran out of things to say for a while...also, I've spent too much time looking at a computer screen lately, and my eyes are suffering for it. So I need to take a couple of days away and look for entertainment elsewhere. Thank you for reading this now! I'll try to keep you updated.

January 12, 2010

It's January 12, 2010. 5 months away from my wedding day. About 2 and a half months until I go home. The weather is chilly but pleasant in comparison to treacherous Iowa winters. No more snow since the first one last week.

My work schedule has picked up a bit. I actually felt like full-time employee last week somehow. On Thursdays, I teach in Hayang, where JiMin is one of my students in a lively class of middle schoolers. I'm also giving private lessons to Mrs. Joe's daughter, Su Jung, who has taken over some of Justin's with recruiting tasks. Su Jung is my age, and while she seems to understand most everything I say, she needs to work on putting together coherent sentences that follow the correct subject-verb-object word order. Last week, I asked SuJung if she would accompany me on a makeup shopping trip. And she agreed. But when Saturday came, I found the thought of a somewhat awkward shopping trip to be less than appealing. My internal dialogue went something like this:

Me: Ugh! I don't want to go shopping tonight.

My conscience: Why not?

Me: Well, I just don't want to feel like I'm working on a Saturday night. I don't want to have to use my patient English mode all afternoon and then all night, too.

My conscience: Well, that sounds kind of selfish. You never seemed to mind that when you worked for CIEP.

Me: Well, yea, but with my job now, I have to be in that mode all day.

My conscience: Look, you can't just blow off SuJung. Do you remember how you excused yourself from hanging out with Jimin at WooBang Land a few months ago because you wanted to go to Jeju Island with your friends? And how you felt you'd let her down? You just can't be this way with people. You have to follow through.

So, I went anyway, and I was very glad I did. We shared a few laughs, made a few purchases, and she bought me dinner at a great Western restaurant. (SuJung studied cooking in college and knows what's what when it comes to finding a good restaurant. Also, it was pretty cute watching her goggle at some pretty and decadent cupcakes in a bakery window downtown. Once past the language barrier, SuJung is a great candidate to be my Korean friend.)

I tend to be skeptical when it comes to trying new products and have become pretty committed to Bare Minerals, which my friend Brittany got me hooked on a few years ago, but I quickly realized I wasn't going to have the luxury of being that picky. So I bought a few things at a Nature Republic--the only cosmetics store I've ever seen that uses a male celebrity to advertise it's products. The clerk at Nature Republic put my purchases as well as a dozen other samples (a defining quality of Korean face/body shops) into a bag with Rain's black-and-white photo. It strikes me as odd that they'd choose Rain to advertise such a feminine product. Then again, Rain's face is everywhere. The Korean superstar also advertises bakery items via Tous Les Jours, "hand phones" via SK Telecom, Lotte duty-free items, Pepsi in China, Clear shampoo in the Philippines, and various other products across Asia.

I've recently become keenly aware of time's passing. And I've realized that if there are things that I'm going to do in Korea, then now is not the time for stalling. This is exactly why I've decided to go to Seoul next weekend to see my friend Raeann from Colorado, who just arrived in Korea one week ago and based on our short conversation, is about as uncertain as I was one week in. I was going to wait for a more convenient weekend, but again, my weekends are numbered now, so what the heck! Also, I asked my boss to let me take my final vacation days at the end of my contract in March, so that I can go to Japan on my way out of Asia! I'm currently looking for a ticket to Japan on March 25 or 26th.

Mother May I finally made it into my menu of classroom games, and it's a real hit! I never realized how funny it could be to call a classmate "mother" or "father" in such a hierarchical culture, but some of my students got a real kick out of it! I overheard one winner giving another a hard time about using informal Korean because, he joked, "I am father!"

Wanted: Your culinary creativity

Several weeks ago, Hyunsuk asked me what kind of groceries I wanted before making a trip to Costco. One of my friends commented the other day that Koreans really do their own food better than any other country's food, which is why my list of items to buy at the store has become shorter and shorter. It's better to eat a delicious Korean meal than an American style meal that tastes crappy. The memo I wrote had about four items on it: spaghetti sauce, bread (with a decent fiber amount,) chicken nuggets, and canned soup. I told Hyunsuk that sometimes in the winter I liked to eat a simple soup with crackers. Remembering the breakfast chowder a few months ago, I thought surely Campbell's had an adequate variety of soups, and I left it that.

My host mom came home with about a 24-unit box of Cream of Mushroom. Not exactly what I had in mind. But an innocent mistake.

I tried to explain that Cream of Mushroom soup was actually more of an ingredient for cooking casseroles and dishes in the states, but not usually eaten on it's own. Still, I had to try it, right? She bought so much of it. And surely, somewhere along the line, someone thought Cream of Mushroom soup was a good idea on it's own. Maybe some of you who are reading even enjoy it. I don't know. Needless to say, it wasn't my thing. It felt dipping saltine crackers in an even more salty gravy.

One thing I really appreciate about my host mom is she doesn't like to waste food. She even made use of the less than tasty, over-preserved Costco colby jack cheese by coupling it with other ingredients for kimbob rolls. Now, she wants to find a solution for the soup.

So this post isn't about the story per se as much as it is a request for your creative cooking concoctions. Here's the catch: we don't have an oven...which pretty much rules out 80 percent of the recipes that call for cream of mushroom soup. But you're a smart bunch out there. (Aunt Janet, maybe you have some ideas.) What might we do with all this Cream of Mushroom soup?

Fish and kids

On the first day of 2010, Eli and her brother and sister, who came to visit for two weeks, let me chill with them for a while. We laid around for most of the day, which was fun, because usually, when I'm at Eli's, we're always getting ready to go out or have Bible study or something. Then in the late afternoon, we headed downtown to a little cafe that translated as something like Tree Swing Cafe. Customers could pay 4,000 won (about $4) for bread and coffee refreshment bar, then a little more to experience a little spa treatment called "Dr. Fish." Takers wade their feet in a small pool full of mini fish who swim around and feast off their dead skin. The fish seemed to enjoy a particularly dry patch I've had on my ankle for the past year or so.

Does it tickle? Yes, a little. Is it weird? Yes! Particularly when the fish nibble between your toes. Is it a cultural experience? Yes! Eli's brother Sam couldn't stand to keep his foot underwater for more than 30 seconds at a time without dying of laughter. (We bought 25 minutes of Dr. Fish!) The fish seemed to enjoy a particularly dry patch I've had on my ankle for the past year or so. They left the spot with a baby soft finish! It's so fun to experience something new for the new year!

One of the best things about being overseas is the international community. Not only have I met Koreans, but at different times, I've met Korean-Americans, South Africans, New Zealandites, Australians, Germans, Phillipinos, Canadians, etc. One couple from our church is from New Zealand, and they have two little girls with bright red hair: Grace and Lily. Norina, their mother, told me once that the girls both speak Korean and are more than willing to translate for their parents.

Yesterday, Grace took the initiative to introduce herself and to ask me, "Do you like my hair?"

I replied honestly, "Yes, I do."

"Do you want it?" she asked. Her forward, I-know-I'm-cute attitude shouldn't have surprised me. Kids say the darnest things, but still, I was surprised. "Yes, I do!" I replied enthusiastically and truthfully.

Later, Grace drew a tooth bracelet and a tooth ring on my hand and said I was the tooth fairy. She wanted me to return the favor. Trying to keep her excitement at bay and away from distracting others, I complied and she said I was good at drawing teeth. I was flattered. I always thought little girls with red hair were the cutest! Maybe someday Nick and I will create a little girl, but I don't think red hair is in our gene pool. Ahh...well...se la vie.

Two things today made me feel at home:

1. A sibling rivalry between two little boys in my science/conversation class. It started when Ji Yoon hit Tae Yoon with a snowball, pushing him to the ground, on the way to class. Ji Yoon came in first, panting as he explained the story. Then Tae Yoon came in a few minutes later with another snowball. I sympathized with Tae Yoon's need for revenge, but asked him to take it outside anyway. I didn't want to clean up melted snowball. For the remainder of the class, they were neck-in-neck competitive. Ji Yoon gets really upset when his younger brother interrupts him with the correct answer. By game time, Tae Yoon pouted over a game of Sally Says. Anyway, it reminded me of playing peacemaker between Brett and Jon years ago. The underdog, the younger one, tends to win my favor, which isn't always fair, but it's an attempt to even the playing field anyway.

2. Snow! I guess the previous story gave it away. Many people told me there wouldn't be much snow in Daegu, but it really snowed today. I couldn't believe my eyes. I even had to shuffle like a penguin along icy sidewalks--an unfortunate hallmark of winters in Cedar Falls.

Laura, in response to your comment, I have not read any Amy Tan stories. Should I look into this? Maybe I will the next time I'm looking for something to do on the internet.