A Happy Birthday

I was highly distracted during my last several classes on Friday evening. The week had passed surprisingly fast. But I couldn't decide if I should make the hour-long trek to downtown Daegu for a midnight Bible study or if I should start my birthday weekend with some rest. In the end, I decided that being alone was not what I wanted for my birthday. I've had plenty of alone time in Korea.

By bus and subway, I journeyed out to the Friday-night Bible study, which refreshing rather than exhausting. Again, it's just refreshing to be in the company of people who care for each other and speak English fluently. I stayed the night with my friends and woke up early and naturally on Saturday morning. I helped myself to cereal and juice, trying not to disturb their new, not-yet-house-broken puppy, Noona, and found my way back to the subway station and eventually, back to Jilyang.

When I walked in the front door, a big brown box with the familiar handwriting of my fiance greeted me and wished me a happy birthday. I grabbed the box and ran up the stairs to my room where I saw the face of it's sender and opened the package in his "presence" on Skype. Four boxes of crackers, three bags of chocolate candy, a "Camera Obscura" cd, a movie titled "Bella," and a mini flashlight for reading purposes. An entertainment box of sorts, filled with warm wishes from the man on the screen in front of me. I felt loved.

I brought a birthday cake to my Saturday class, and we sang happy birthday to me and MiRae, a student whose birthday is next Friday. My high school class is pretty shy most of the time, so it was a little bit cute to hear one of them softly protest when I proceeded to cut the cake without candles.

"Song." she said. "We need the song." We sang the birthday song in English as was fitting for the class, and in Korean fashion, clapped on the down beats. (Still getting used to that one.)

On Saturday evening, I attended a one-year-old party for my friends, Andy and HyunJin, and their daughter Sienna. Andy, a native of St. Louis, is the pastor of the English service I attend. When Andy and Hyun-Jin first started dating, she spoke very little English, and he spoke very little Korean, but they somehow got to know each other.

Once upon a time, Korea had a really high infant mortality rate, so people began to really celebrate one-year birthdays. The small ballroom in New Youngnam Hotel resembled a wedding reception or a ritzy restaurant. Hyun-Jin and Sienna were wearing matching princess dresses--white with pink sashes. A display of purple balloons, candles, and fruit baskets brought our attention to the front of the room where we participated in games and traditional one-year customs.

In the back, a buffet table snaked around the edges of the room with trays of sushi meat, fruit, and hoersdevours as well as pots of interesting soups I'd never seen. It's kind of fun to be at someone else's party on your birthday, especially a glitzy one with delicious food.

One-year birthdays, in case you can't tell from my description, are a big deal in Korea. After we ate, Sienna had the opportunity to foreshadow her future by reaching for certain items on a tray. A cup of rice represented a life without hunger. A long piece of yarn represented a long life. A pencil marked the life of an intellect, and 10,000 won bill marked a life of wealth. (Andy earned the bill by selling rice cakes to the crowd of guests in between games.) Then, there was a plastic stethoscope to denote a future doctor, a plastic microphone for a musician or actress, and a computer mouse for a future computer genius. The female emcee, who seemed to work for the hotel and spoke in Korean, waved each of the items in front of Sienna initially as a trial run to make us all hypothesize which item she would choose. Then the baby's father hoisted her above the tray, giving her just enough room to reach out and grab any of the items.

We watched intently as Sienna reached out, and after skimming over a few possible picks, settled on the plastic microphone. Our applause broke the silent anticipation as she grasped the cylinder with her baby hands.

"I thought she might pick that one," said the guy next to me. "I saw her playing with it earlier."

Having witnessed child development stages through other babies, I concluded later that the baby's choice probably had a lot more to do with the size, color, and tangibility of the microphone than some inner pop star destiny. Obvious, maybe, but we were all on the edge of our seats anyway. What a fun custom!

After the baby birthday party, my new friends at Dongshin church hosted a small birthday party for me at their apartment. We enjoyed soju and birthday cake while playing wii baseball as well as one of my all-time favorite group games: signs!

I stayed the night at Eli, Tharene and Elise's apartment and went home after church the next day. The trip home seemed longer than usual despite the fact that I left earlier, skipping out on the afternoon activities. The sun's warmth shone in my bus window making me feel even more sleepy. I counted the landmarks approaching my stop in Jilyang.

My host mom fixed a long-anticipated meal of sushi, watermelon, and potbingsu. We sang Sang-il chukha habnida (the birthday-congratulations song,) and I opened a few small gifts from my host siblings. It was surprisingly serene and anti-climactic, but I was okay with that. I wiped out at 8 o'clock and woke up this morning at seven, feeling well-rested and ready for the week.