thoughts on being new

As a kid, I never had to change schools. The kids in my kindergarten class walked across the stage with me in high school, and since there weren't many of them, I knew them all. Every once in a while, we'd get a new student, and we'd all become really interested in him or her for a few weeks. Soon enough, however, that new student became just one of us, and we went on with our regular elementary school lives.

When I got to college, I was at the peak of my now draining extroversion, and I made friends immediately. Looking back, my methods were questionable at best; I met two of my best college friends by walking up to them in a huge field full of freshmen and demanding their screen names, and I met another of my college roommates by sharing a bed with her. My dad's never met a stranger, and his approach to meeting new people rubbed off on me tenfold. I guess College Me just always assumed that everyone I met was just as excited to be my friend as I was to be theirs, and for the most part, it worked out pretty well. I'm sure I creeped a few people out, but don't we all sometimes?

Moving to Cincinnati was hard for me because, for the first time, I was up against people who already had friends, thankyouverymuch, and didn't need an obnoxiously peppy newbie to add to their circles. I went to church by myself for months before it occurred to me that not everyone shows up to church sans a posse. The more I realized I was missing out on socialization, the lonelier I became, until my friend Beth invited me to her small group. Beth's friend group largely consisted of transplants - young adults who had moved to Cincinnati after college and were creating new lives there. Despite the fact that I liked the Jonas Brothers at the time, they welcomed me with open arms. Every time I drive away from Cincinnati now, I cry knowing that I don't get to live life beside those people anymore.

When it comes to making friends, Korea takes the cake on ease of execution. I met my friend Kristen by facebooking her a month before I even moved there, and the day we all met Kelsey, we escorted her all the way back to her apartment. All my friendships were on steroids there; everyone remembered what it was like to be new and did everything they could to help ease the transition.

California's not the same.

I've been here for nearly six weeks, and aside from my coworkers, I haven't made a single friend. It's not for lack of trying; I've been to three different churches and two different young adult groups. I've tried to join six different bible studies and only one has actually given me enough details that I could show up. I thought I had found friends at a singles group I found (don't even get me started on how much I hate the concept of a "singles" group), but whenever I'd ask the other women in the group out for coffee, the resulting expression of confusion and annoyance made me want to get sucked into a hole in the ground.

I've never experienced such resistance trying to make friends. I went to a picnic on Saturday, and I nearly had to pull my car over on the way home because I was crying so hard. I think about those Sunday mornings in Korea that I slept through my alarm, only to be awoken a half dozen times as each of my friends realized I wasn't at church, and it physically hurts. Aside from the people I knew before I got here, not a single person has my phone number. I suppose people could have tried to add me on facebook, but since no one has asked me why I'm not to be found, I'm guessing that's not the case.

I promise this isn't just a post to gain your sympathy (okay, maybe a little). This new kind of loneliness I've been experiencing is really causing me to reflect on the kind of person I am when I'm comfortable in a new place. Once I've been around long enough to recognize the regulars, I want to be the person who always notices a new face. The kind of girl who invites new people to small group or has friends over for dinner. I want my friend circle to never feel closed off; I want to always have enough room in my life to spare an evening at a coffee shop to get to know someone who desperately needs a friend.

Before you panic and contact me on every form of communication available to you (Grandma), it's really not that big of a deal that I don't have a lot of friends right now. I'm still getting used to my job, which means I'm the last car in the parking lot at night and the janitor sometimes has to kick me out because he's leaving. I come home and crash on the couch before I even acknowledge what time it is. I spend eight hours a day listening to my own voice, and the last thing I want to do when I finally get home most nights is talk to another human being. It seems my introversion is skyrocketing these days, leaving me little energy to pursue any conversational exploit more complicated than talking to my television screen. For right now, this is my life. And even when it's lonely, it's so very good.

i forget how to make friends

As much as I hate to admit it, I'll be living at my parents' house for the foreseeable future. I'm sure I'll figure something out soon and be able to get back to being a grown-up, but without a paycheck, I don't currently have a lot of other options. Since it's been nearly eight years since I've called this city home, I was fairly certain that no one I knew back then would still be around now to be friends. Therefore, I decided to look at Springfield as a new adventure and did what I'd do in any other city: I googled churches and set out to meet new people.

It turns out that I kind of suck at it.

Before I left Korea, I used to daydream about how I'd introduce myself to new people in America:

Potential new friend: "Hi, are you new here?"
Me: "Why, yes I am."
Potential new friend: "Where did you live before?"
Me: "Only the most awesome place in the whole entire world: SOUTH KOREA!"
Potential new friend: "I'm so jealous that I need to immediately become your best friend and maybe quit my job to move there myself!"

But last night was my first attempt at making new friends, and it looked a little more like this:

Potential new friend: "Hey! We went to the same high school! What have you been up to?"
Me: "I live with my parents and don't have a job."
Potential new friend: "Well, you haven't been around for a while. Where were you?"
Me: "You know... here... there... Cincinnati... Asia..."
Potential new friend: "I didn't catch that last one...?"
Me: "I don't have a job."

I have no idea what's wrong with me. In the weeks leading up to Korea, I messaged strangers on facebook asking them to be my friend; yet now I'm confronted with talking to people I used to know a few years back and I can't manage to form coherent sentences.

It's really easy to make friends overseas. All of my non-Korean friends in Korea had, at some point, packed up bags and moved to a new place where they knew few (if any) people. Everyone remembered what it was like to be new and therefore went out of her way to help new people acclimate as quickly as possible. It wasn't out of the ordinary to invite people to do all the same things you did while they figured out exactly what their place would be.

Here, everyone already has a life established. They have people they see on a regular basis and activities they've been doing for years. I have to figure out where I fit all on my own. What makes it even worse is that I know this is temporary. Whether I move to Columbus, San Francisco, or Shanghai in the fall, I know I'm not staying here. I don't have a long-term supportive friendship to offer; basically I'm just begging people to keep me from being lonely until I move again, and that feels all kinds of selfish. How do you make friends when you feel like you have nothing to offer the other person except incessant babbling about how exciting your life used to be? I suppose I'll just continue my valiant effort towards single-handedly doubling the library's circulation while I'm here.

Romance, passivity, and belligerent drunks (not in that order)

Today is White Day in Korea. For those of you not cursed enough to live in a country where they celebrate three separate gag-me-now holidays, allow me to explain. Back in February, we celebrated Valentine's Day, but here, they call it "Red Day." On Red Day, girls are required to give their men something covered with hearts, then the men return the gesture (I've heard they're supposed to return it three-fold, but I have no proof of this) exactly one month later. One month after White Day, all the depressed and lonely singles tear themselves away from their tear-soaked pillows to cry into a bowl of black noodles on Black Day.

Although one of my precious littles gave me some chocolates today, that was the extent of my celebrating today's holiday. I had a glaring lack of men lining up to be my... shoot, what would I call that? They wouldn't be my Valentine... my... white... guy? But then again, it's not really the whites that celebrate White Day... although that would be pretty funny, if they made a holiday just to acknowledge all the foreigners.

Wow, tangent much?

Anyway, so I didn't have a date today (I mean, clearly). Instead, I went to dinner with my new friend, Bo. Bo and her husband are in Korea short term, training to be sent to Syria on missions. They joined my bible study last week, and Bo and I decided to become friends, beginning with dinner tonight. We met in the middle of our houses in a part of town neither of us were really familiar with, and after stopping to snack on some street food, we settled on a random Korean restaurant.

If I had been paying better attention, I could have told you what kind of food we were eating. It was a little like a cross between dak galbi and sam gyeop sal, which I realize means absolutely nothing to 95% of the people reading this. Basically... spicy, bacon, veggies, rice cakes? Cooked on the table and surrounded by a thousand side dishes; pretty standard in Korea, also pretty delicious.

**Note: for the rest of this story, you will need the following two vocabulary words: ajumma is an older Korean woman and ajusshi is an older Korean man.

Although Bo and I had a lovely conversation about nearly everything (we talk faster than the Gilmore Girls), the conversation wasn't the most memorable part of the meal. When we were picking at the leftover rice at the end, an ajumma two tables down told Bo that we were talking too loudly. This happens to me quite often; in fact, I was poked in the side and told to quiet down on the bus just yesterday. However, this time, we weren't really being that loud. The restaurant was full of people, and the only reason our conversation stood out was because it was in English. The ajumma told us to quiet down, Bo replied (in Korean), and the woman's husband decided he had a few things to say. He started arguing with Bo and reaching for the soup ladle on his table. Bo grabbed her phone out of her purse, and the ajusshi focused his intoxicated eyes on me.

Bo and her husband, Abe, live really far from where we were having dinner, so I thought maybe she was just calling him to help calm herself down. I was doing everything I could to avoid the ajusshi's glare; I have honestly never seen so much hatred pouring out of a single person. Wiping tears off her cheeks, Bo told her husband about the ajusshi who was yelling at us, that he was calling her a bitch and threatening to chuck the soup ladle at her if she didn't shut up. When Bo hung up the phone, the ajusshi and his wife stood up, and the man started screaming at us. The whole restaurant got completely silent and watched the drunk old Korean man yelling at two young foreigners. He came around to our table and reached for one of the spatulas, but he must have changed his mind right before he actually threw it. Bo yelled back at him in Korean and English... but she was the only one.

Imagine this scenario happening in the States: a very obviously drunk old man starts shouting at two young women in a restaurant. He threatens to throw things at them and calls them horrible words. Would the entire restaurant sit idly by and watch this unfold? They do in Korea.

A few months ago, this video caused an internet sensation. In it, an ajumma on the subway was offended by a teenage girl who crossed her legs "the wrong way." No one came to the girl's defense when the ajumma started screaming at her, and the situation escalated. If you watch the video, you'll see the ajumma grab the girl by the hair around the 24-second mark. She then proceeds to whip the girl across the subway car by her hair while the girl shrieks in pain. As awful as that situation is, watch the video again and ignore the ajumma. Instead, look at the bystanders.

Not until the very end of the video, after the teenager has been assaulted, does anyone stand up for her. In my mind, though, that's not the worst part. Look at the bystanders' faces. Look how embarrassed they seem at the thought of witnessing such an act. Instead of protecting the innocent, they're humiliated that people are causing a scene.

This, it seems, is the way Korea is. Aside from the occasional joke, I don't talk a lot about Korean culture on this blog. Partially it's because I'm trying to respect my new surroundings and don't want to criticize unnecessarily, but partially it's because I don't feel I'll ever know enough about another culture to pass judgment. There are a million things wrong with America, so who am I to say what's "wrong" here?

But this is wrong; passivity is wrong.  When a girl is getting attacked on a subway, someone should step in. When two girls are being threatened in a restaurant, someone should step in. Those who silently stand by while someone is mistreating another human being are just as guilty as those who are actively doing the mistreating. I'm going to hop off my soap box for now, but my blood has been slowly heating up against global injustice, and you can expect a lot more of this from me in the not-so-distant future. A *lot* more.

The ajusshi and his wife walked past our table and stopped to put on their shoes. The man kept screaming, but suddenly, Bo's husband appeared. He stood directly between the ajusshi and Bo, staring at the old man without saying anything. Before I realized it was Abe, I was honestly in shock that someone had tried to come between us and the drunk couple, but as soon as I recognized his face, I started crying. Abe and a friend had been a few blocks away having coffee, and they left everything and ran to the restaurant when Bo called. Without question, Abe stepped straight in front of his wife, protecting her from the man who was threatening us. The ajusshi and his wife stumbled out into the street, and Abe sat down to comfort Bo.

That's a husband.

I've been learning a lot about relationships lately - the good and the bad. Recently, I've found myself surrounded by couples who really just have me in awe of their respect and love for each other. Although that usually makes me feel sad and broken, like I'm somehow not good enough for that, I've realized lately that not only do I deserve that too, but that it's worth waiting for.

So I guess White Day did end up being quite romantic after all, drunken ajusshis aside.

A million things

Okay, okay, okay, so I know it's been nearly a week since I posted, and you're all absolutely beside yourselves wondering what I've been up to. I was waiting all week because I knew I was going to a Silent Disco tonight, and I wanted to be able to post videos and pictures of the hilarity... then my disco got rained out. Don't worry, it's been rescheduled for next weekend, and I have plenty of other things to talk about.

WARNING: I'm crazy in love with Korea right now. Like the way I loved Justin Timberlake in the seventh grade or Boy Meets World reruns, um, always. If Korea were a guy, he'd totally have a restraining order against me. I feel exactly like Jessica in her affirmation video - I like my friends! I like my church! I like my city! I like my kimbap! I like my subway! I like my apartment!

I know, I need a tranquilizer. But you don't have to read these, you know.

I realized that there have been some events in the past few weeks that I totally forgot to blog about, so I'm going to start with those. This is going to be a hodge-podge of all things Seoul, likely ending with a reflection on how I'm so happy I might pee myself. Let's begin.

First, I can't even believe that I haven't written about Dr. Fish. As soon as I got here, people started telling me that I needed to check it out asap, but no one seemed to want to accompany me. One of Courtney's friends from OSU is here, and we decided to meet up one afternoon for coffee. As soon as I found Jill at the subway station, she suggested we go to Dr. Fish, and I was thrilled. What's Dr. Fish? you're asking. It's a little cafe where you put your feet in a tiny pond and fish nibble the dead skin off your toes. NO JOKE. My uncle had done this disgusting yet hilarious thing when he was on business in Asia once, and I couldn't have been more excited that there is a cafe like that just down the street from my house. Jill and I went to the cafe, ordered drinks, and waited to be called over to the fish tank.

Once it was our turn, we stepped up onto the little platform and took off our shoes. We had to wash our feet (apparently the fish are super picky about dirt and germs), then the cafe worker pointed at the tanks: "Five minute little fish. Ten minute big fish." Alrighty. We can do that! I crawled over to the "little fish" tank and peeked inside. The fish were about the size of guppies, and there were easily over a hundred of them. Jill politely waited for me to go first, and I was feeling all kinds of brave, so I dropped my feet in.

I know it's really blurry, but you can see the teeny tiny fish. I could hardly feel them scooting across my feet; it felt more like I had put my feet in a bottle of pop and bubbles were everywhere. I giggled and we took tons of pictures and the fish wiggled around between my toes. All good stuff. Then I decided it was time for the "big fish" tank. Jill had told me right from the beginning that she wasn't going to do big fish, but I knew I'd totally regret it if I didn't at least try it, so I crawled on over. Here's what was in the other tank:

Okay, not really. But it did look like this:

Pardon my language, but those are some BIG ASS FISH. As soon as I sat down beside the tank, my heart started racing. I'm pretty sure I would have been less nervous being chased by a bear (Okay, that's a lie because Michelle and I almost got eaten by a bear once and I was so scared I thought my heart would stop). I sat next to the tank for a good two or three minutes, staring down at the fish while they stared back up at me. Some of them were pushing their terrible little faces up out of the water, trying to get at me and gnaw of my entire legs. The longer I sat, the more terrified I became, but I knew that I'd regret it if I walked away. I made Jill count to three and I splashed my feet in the tank.

My feet stayed in there long enough to take this picture, then I yanked them out like the water was on fire. I swear those fish were trying to KILL me! The other tank felt like little bubbles, but this tank felt like when a cat bites you - not bad enough to draw blood, but not something anyone really enjoys. And there were DOZENS of them! A few of them actually came up out of the water because I pulled my feet out so fast and they were still stuck to me. I think I might have a heart attack just reliving the experience.

I went back to the little fish tank to let my heart slow back to its normal pace. Jill and I chatted and took a few more pictures, and everything ended smoothly.

Next story...

I told you about my rain excursion on Tuesday of Chuseok and my birthday shenanigans on Thursday, but I never told you what I did on the actual holiday. A girl in my small group, Angie, invited me to visit some palaces and temples with some of her friends, and I had been wanting to see those anyway. The day started off very well; I bought these in the subway station:

That's a waffle in the shape of a tiny ear of corn and filled with some kind of pudding-like cream. Weird? Totally. Delicious? Absolutely.

I don't know any of the history of any of the places we visited, but the buildings were really pretty, so I'll show you some pictures :)

In case you're wondering, that's not a swastika. Apparently those face the other direction, and this is actually an Eastern sign for peace. Also, these palaces/temples/shrines are really cool because they're just right in the middle of the city. You can see regular buildings in the background; modern-day Seoul just grew up right around all the history. It's neat to be in a place where some of the buildings are significantly older than the country I grew up in.

Next...

(This is completely disjointed and random, but it's getting really late and I just don't have the energy to make appropriate transitions. I'm pretty much just looking through all the pictures from the last two weeks and posting interesting/funny things)

Here's a video of the little Asian boy who has stolen the hearts of all my friends back home. He brought his workbook up to my desk the other day, and he had written his name funny. I asked him to read it to me...

This is doubly hilarious because it reminds me of this.

And next...

Yesterday was my friend Kristen's birthday. She had a little party Friday night at a coffee shop, and yesterday we went to Hongdae. I hadn't been there yet, but I heard it was really artsy and fun; the girls from the women's ministry had planned an outing to go there for some art market, so I jumped on board. The market was closed due to that silly rainstorm, but we wandered around the streets and I took some pictures that I'm sure you'll love.

That's where I really work. The teaching thing's a cover.

"Look at this charming pouch and FLAMES WILL SHOOT OUT OF YOUR EYES!"

I don't wanna be your friend on facebook either, fool.

After the women's ministry event was officially over, Kristen, Jo, Jillian, and I decided to hang out a little while longer. Kristen got to pick our destination since it was her birthday...

I knew she was a good choice for a friend.

I have a million pictures from inside, and I'll upload them to facebook sometime tomorrow (promise!). For now, here's a sampling:

That's my pretty Kristen friend. The sign says "Oh yay! Happy party!" :)

Cutest. Drinks. Ever.

The ceilings were Asian-sized :)

And here's the part of the post where it gets really sappy. You should probably get a barf bag.

My three new friends and I sat at the coffee shop for a few hours just talking about life. We joked about our kids, told stories about boys we left behind, and just enjoyed life together. Jo and I have both been here about a month, so we're still in the honeymoon phase of life here, but even Kristen and Jill are delighted with their lives in the ROK. It blows my mind that an average Saturday night consists of a Hello Kitty Cafe in a place called Hongdae with two Canadians and two Americans. I feel like this can't possibly be real; this can't just be life here, this can't just be a regular Saturday night in a regular coffee shop. My new friends are wonderful and hilarious and so perfect for me, and I wonder what on earth I did to deserve such joy. I just really feel like I belong here, maybe more than I did in Cincinnati. The people and the place fit me. On the surface, I don't fit in at all - I talk too loudly on the subway and I'm the only one wearing pink anywhere I go - but my heart fits life here, and that's all that really matters in the end.

One of the things we talked about last night was how freeing life is here. From the beginning of high school, all I can remember is being asked what my next step was. Where are you going to college? What are you going to study? What will you do after graduation? Where will you live? Are you worried about your pension plan? There were so many questions about life that's far out in the distance and I always tried my hardest to answer them. I think I've imagined thirty different lives for myself in the last ten years, ranging from pediatrician to missionary to writer to teacher to hobo, and I wholeheartedly wanted all of those things in the moments that I wanted them. But here, no one makes me decide what job I'm going to retire from. No one asks what the next step is or how what I'm doing fits into my overall life plan. All people care about here is where you're from and who you are in this moment. People want to know your story, and your story only goes up until today. You don't have to worry about whether you know what tomorrow's going to be, let alone where your kids will go to school. All through high school and college, I felt like I needed to be focused on what I wanted my whole life to become, like I needed to know what my plan was and chase after it with focused ambition. But here, I don't know what life is going to look like in the next step. I know I'm in this step, and I'm living each day one by one without wondering what comes next. Sure, I think about the future. I know I don't want to live here forever, but I haven't yet decided whether I'll move to Georgia the state or Georgia the country when I leave. I love imagining the future without feeling any pressure to strive for it. In college, I nearly dropped out every time I found a new African country I thought couldn't possibly survive another day without me. But here, I'm already living an adventure, so that part of me is being fulfilled. I'm free to dream without worrying I'll miss out on something if I don't start now. I'm here at least eleven more months; I'm not going anywhere else. I'm not trying to find a better job or get a nicer car or move to a different part of town. I'm going to be right here in this tiny apartment until September 1, 2011, so I'm free to dream without the need to pursue it immediately. I was always afraid I'd miss out on life if I didn't get to the next step as quickly as possible. Now it feels like someone paused my life - just made everything freeze for a moment - so I could actually stop and enjoy where and who I am. I feel like I'm really living every day instead of just gliding into tomorrow. My heart is full and I'm content and God is so very good.

Birthday fun!

Korea and I have a dysfunctional relationship (story of my life), but like any messed-up couple, we set aside our differences for the sake of celebrating my birth. I think Korea was trying to make up for the cold spaghetti, really, but it certainly outdid itself. My birthday was FABULOUS.

My new friend Kristen (whom I met before I got here thanks to some crafty facebook stalking) decided that she didn't want me to be homesick on my special day, so she set up a little party for the evening. Since my birthday landed on Chuseok, however, I had a whole day to fill, not just an evening. I really enjoy exploring things on my own, so I told everyone I had plans when really my plan was to get lost and have fun. People were a little disappointed that I spent the majority of my day in just my own company, but it was exactly what I wanted. Just a little me-and-Korea quality time.

I pulled out my handy "Things to do in Seoul" book again, and this time I chose the Children's Grand Park. The book showed a picture of some kids in bumper cars and another one of kids looking at a fountain, so this seemed like an exceptional way to spend my afternoon. Also, it had its own subway stop, so the risk of getting lost was nil. I packed up my things and headed off into the unknown.

I had no idea what the Children's Grand Park was aside from a grand park for children. When I went inside, I grabbed a guidemap and nearly danced with joy - the Children's Grand Park is a zoo/amusement park/art museum/water park/aquarium/theater/kitchen sink! I don't really even know how to begin to explain it, so I'll just upload some pictures (I'm also waiting on facebook to upload the entire album, but it's going painfully slowly. I promise I'll have them up soon).

First off, I went to the little bird sanctuary.

That's right - that's me, feeding a bird right out of my hand. JUST LIKE A DISNEY PRINCESS, FOOLS.

After feeding the birds for a crazy amount of time (I was having more fun than all the kids there put together - at one point, there were FIVE birds in my hand. FIVE!), I wandered to the next spot on the map, the Anistory.

Now, Anistory isn't a word in English or Korean, so I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But it was six dollars and it was my birthday for crying out loud, so I bought a ticket and waited inside the theater. A precious little lady beside me asked (in English) if I was alone. I told her I was and that it was my birthday. She hopped in her seat and shouted "CONGRATULATIONS!" Then she dug around in her bag and proudly presented me with warm blueberry soy milk as a gift. I accepted it graciously and tried very hard to like it, but really guys, it was warm blueberry soy milk.

When the show started, the sweet lady tried to translate everything for me, but she didn't know very much English. I think at some points she was just making up words, but I nodded along enthusiastically anyway. Her effort was adorable and the show wasn't too hard to follow. It was CINDERELLA with ANIMALS. Holy smokes.

That's a raccoon handing the fairy godmother a plunger. Yeah, so the story wasn't spot on, but I did understand "hana, dul, SET!" (one, two, THREE!) and "bibbity-boppity-boo!" occasionally, so I'm pretty sure it was Cinderella. Well, until a monkey dressed like Snow White came out, fainted, and a monkey dressed like a dwarf pulled her off the stage. You can't make this stuff up, folks.

Looking back, I really didn't understand much of what was going on, but it was probably the coolest show I've ever seen anyway. Parrots flew over my head, a seal played the cymbals, and a monkey fairy godmother zip-lined to the stage. Honestly, I can't even put into words how much fun I was having. I might as well just stop this blog right here because nothing I do in Korea will ever top the Anistory.

After the show, I wandered around the zoo portion of the park for a while, which was fabulous, but I'm not going to explain every animal I saw because it would take forever. I will, however, upload them all onto facebook and you can peruse them at your leisure.

Just before I left the park, I noticed a section on the map called "Totem Pole Village" and knew I had to explore that too, so I hiked back across the park and took a few pictures:

There are, of course, quite a few more, but again you can refer to the facebook album for the others. I have so much more story to tell!

I reluctantly left the park in the early evening because I had to attend my own birthday party (hehe, had to). I found a much more direct subway path home, dropped off my stuff, and headed up to Kyobo to meet my friends. I haven't been here very long, so the fact that I had people willing to hang out with me on my birthday absolutely blew my mind. Anyway, so we went to this little restaurant where they cook the food at the table (which is incredibly popular here, and it never gets old). The food was delicious, and they made us wear these silly little aprons, which I loved.

Here's a picture of all of us so no one feels left out of the blog post :)

After dinner, we went to a photo sticker place. I have no pictures to document this because the whole process takes about twelve seconds and you feel a little bit like your head is spinning by the end of it. Basically it's like the regular photo booths at the mall, but everything you do is timed. You select backgrounds, take pictures, choose your favorites, decorate them, and print them in about a minute and a half (I'm exaggerating. Maybe you have two minutes.) It was hilarious and anxiety-inducing (anyone who has played Catch Phrase with me knows how much I HATE being timed. HATE IT.) but so much fun!

On the way out the door, we noticed two guys playing guitar on the street corner. My lovely friends decided that I obviously needed to be serenaded in the middle of a busy street, so they asked the boys to lead a ridiculously loud rendition of "Happy Birthday". Just in case our traveling band of foreigners wasn't sticking out enough, everyone started singing. People stopped and stared as my face turned every shade of pink, then a few drunk guys ran up to give me a hug. Because what's a birthday without a hug from a drunk Asian?

The serenaders laughed and asked us how much we'd been drinking. Um, nothin, guys. We're just that loud and obnoxious all by ourselves.

We still had another stop before the night was over - cake and ice cream! We journeyed across the street to a fancy-shmancy Baskin Robbins. The girls let me choose the cake (yay!) so I picked this one:

I mean, really, how cute is that?

My friends sang to me, yet again, inside the ice cream shop, and we demolished the cake - which was made of chocolate ice cream and something pink with pop rocks in it. Birthday bliss, I bet it was called.

On the way outside, Kristen pointed out that the poles in Gangnam take pictures. Yeah, you read that correctly. What I had assumed were digital maps are also cameras that send free pictures to any email address. Korea is ridiculously cool sometimes.

Most of you likely got here via facebook anyway, but if you didn't, here's a link to the photo album that has all my birthday shenanigans in it :)

Sorry Sorry!

It's Monday night and, true to form, I've found myself in yet another overpriced coffee shop watching hundreds of people scamper past the window. If it weren't for the fact that these lattes are so not worth what I'm paying for them, I'm positive I'd hang out in coffee shops every night of the week. People watching never, ever gets old. I'm going to be known as the creepy foreigner who stares out of second story windows if I'm not careful.

I know I ended my last post with how comfortable and happy I am here, so I'm hesitant to mention it again lest I sound like a broken record. Nevertheless, this blog isn't just for hilarious stories; I'm trying to record my adventure exactly as it unfolds, which unfortunately means you're going to have to read about how much I love it here. Just be glad I'm in love with a country and not a person - you'd get awfully sick of reading about how "his smile takes my breath away." At least Korea's not sappy and lame. :)

I'm still delightfully surprised at how quickly I snapped into life here. The only other time that something in my life made this much sense was when I moved to Oxford. The first time I set foot on Miami's campus my senior year of high school, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I belonged there. College was absolutely not the easiest four years of my life, but I never once questioned whether I had made the right choice. Through everything, I knew that Oxford was where I was meant to be, and I never regretted the decision to go there. I know I've only been here two weeks (today's the two week anniversary! asa!), but I already know that I fit here. I'm sure it will be impossibly hard at times, but I'm equally sure I'm never going to regret this. Moving to Korea might not always be a walk in the park, but it will always be exactly what I was meant to do.

Last night, I had my first Bible study at Jubilee. The people in my Bible study are really great, and I'm so excited about studying with them for however long this group lasts. They were incredibly welcoming, and they laughed pretty much every time I tried to tell a story (not in a rude way - I'm often funnier than I intend to be). When the group left, I stayed and talked to the leader for a little while, and she told me that she could just see peace on me. Now, if you know me, "peaceful" is typically the last adjective anyone would use to describe me, but it's really how I feel here. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I didn't have a single prayer request to write down. I feel like God's been providing before I even realize what I need, and I'm just along for the ride. Maybe this is what it's like when you find yourself right smack in the middle of His will? It's funny how we exert so much effort fighting to plan out our own lives, but if we let go, things start to work out for themselves. If only I could translate that into other areas of my life, we'd be smooth sailing.

This weekend was a whole lot of fun. On Friday night, I went bowling with some people from Jubilee. When my Cincinnati crew used to go bowling, we never took it seriously (I'm thinking specifically of the time when one of the boys shattered the light at the end of the lane), but my new friends here consider bowling, like, a sport or something. They broke up the teams based on skill and every pin was a HUGE deal. The teams were super-competitive... and also insanely encouraging. I'm certainly not going pro with my skills any time soon, but every time I got a strike, both teams cheered and gave me high fives. We were competing, but it was also like we were just one big team. Everyone groaned when someone missed picking up a spare, and everyone celebrated when someone got multiple strikes in a row. I felt a little bit like we were in a Disney Channel movie... and I loved every second of it.

Saturday was the Jubilee anniversary BBQ. I knew Seoul was expecting rain, which left me with two options: I could gather up my rain gear and huddle under a tent, protecting myself from the elements as though melting were a legitimate concern... or I could dress for a mud battle. This was a genuine dilemma for me; if I prepared for mud and didn't find any friends to play with, I could potentially end up being known as "that weird girl who sat by herself in a puddle during the picnic", and no one wants to be that girl. But then again, if I dressed like I had a rain allergy, I could end up missing out on a lot of fun. Ultimately, I readied myself for the mud and hoped for the best. And the best is what I got.

Frisbee. Mud. New friends. And joy.

Saturday night I'm sure I could have found something to do, but I decided it was finally time to make my apartment look less like a hotel room and more like home. I blasted music and cleaned the kitchen, occasionally breaking out into dangerously loud solos and award-winning dances. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun alone on a Saturday night, and I'm proud to report that my sink no longer smells like rotten vegetables.

Sunday I had lunch with my lovely Hana, and we spent hours talking about our lives. Apparently no matter how many time zones separated your lives before, you can always talk about how much boys suck. I'm obviously not going to recount everything we said, but I will show you some pictures:

Have I mentioned I adore her? Because I do.

When I went into work this morning, I was actually really excited to see my kiddos. I know this is going to fade VERY soon, but right now, seeing these kids is something I genuinely look forward to. I wrote down some of the hysterical things that came out of their mouths today for your enjoyment :)

Me (to Hana): Why does the milk taste different here?

Evelyn: I am genius, so I know. In USA, they squeeze the cow to get the milk. But in Korea, they just take it out and send it straight to market.

Me: I'm going to pull all my hair out.

Brian: Your hair won't come out; you have a belly button.

Me: *explains definition of "capacity"

Evelyn: So you have a big capacity for love of the bank boy, right, Teacher?

Me: *gives synonyms for "funny" so the kids will stop calling me "crazy Teacher"

Evelyn: Oh Teacher, you are so he-ware-us!

Brian (to Robin during play time): Do you know the crap? I will be the crap. What will you be? Pikachu?

Me: We're going to read a story called "Who Is Best?"

Brian: I am the best. I have SIX girlfriends.

Me: You are all so smart. I should just go back to the USA.

David: Teacher, if you leave, I will go with you because I love you too much. **(Kidnapping these kids is going to be a piece of cake)**

Youn-ha: Why would you go back, Teacher? Korea is home.

And in closing... whenever I tell Robin off for doing something bad in class, he breaks out into this crazy dance that looks like a mentally challenged cross between the macarena and lord of the dance. Usually I just stare at him until he finishes, and I'm sure the expression on my face is remarkably similar to that of a dog hearing a high-pitched noise. He's been doing this since the first day, and I couldn't figure it out to save my life. Today I finally asked Hana what on earth the kid was doing, and she told me it's a really famous dance by a really famous boy band. America - I'm thrilled to introduce to you: Super Junior!

I dare you to not have that song stuck in your head for the next hour.

Also, while I was researching (ie: watching youtube videos at work), I came across this one of inmates doing the "Sorry Sorry" dance. Potential future bridesmaids: you will be selected based on your ability to properly and enthusiastically execute this dance and your willingness to do so at the reception. It's worth noting the groom will be chosen using identical criteria.

You didn't honestly think I'd tell you all that then not post a video of my kids dancing, did you? Don't you know me but at all?!