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!