What I Thought and What I’m Thinking
Sometimes I swear that I would not have survived this long without music or internet. No, that’s not true.
It’s amazing what gets people through it all. I should consider myself lucky: I’m surrounded by many caring, unique individuals in Seoul and so many more loving people await my return in the States. I think about all of the times I have bitched and moaned about being “inconvenienced” in Seoul, but now all of the grievances seem so shallow. This week and next week have and will bring many canceled classes, due to the students’ exam period. I’ve used the time so far to think about what’s happened in the last eight months.
I guess what really got me thinking was going to James’ and Sky’s house again. The last time I went there for a grillout was after my first week of class training. It was unreal to think about how new everything was at the time. The second time was so much more different because I was surrounded by people who I’ve worked alongside with, so in a way the setting was more intimate. In many ways though, I couldn’t discern how much had actually changed since August.
In many ways, I’ve tried not to make too many waves here. I’ve had the time of my life (so many stories, for the young and old), but I’ve talked myself out of settling in so many times. I can only theorize that my resistance to acclimating has to do with my desire to feel like an American again. It’s strange, I feel very Korean although I hardly speak fluently. I guess I just feel too used to a schedule: work, work, work, play, then work again. Having this much time to myself these next two weeks is really going to shake things up… for the better, I have decided.
I have four days off in a row next weekend and I have decided to go to Busan with my two best girls. The weather has been in the mid-70s for about two weeks now and I am hopeful that I can dip my toes in the water without being chilled to the bone. I went hiking with Martha today in Suraksan (2nd time hiking since I’ve been here). I’ve been dying to do more things outdoors, but once we began the hike I realized “Hey, I’m NOT a hiker.” I stuck it out though. We made it to the summit, 2.4 kilometers later. Several times, I thought my calves were going to roll up my legs and flop onto the dusty ground, but alas, the mind does play tricks when your body exhausts itself. Once I got past the mind tricks, I knew that we were close to the top. Success!
Though hiking may not be a favorite pastime, my number one, favorite, all-time best hobby is people-watching. Since I did not have my camera, I will have to paint the picture. Me: old brown shorts, blue thrift store t-shirt. Beat-up New Balances and small drawstring bag with money and apples. Korean citizens pride themselves on their hiking gear. The “Ah-gee-ma” hikers don dry-weave exercise suits in the following colors: neon pink, navy blue, carrot orange…. everything bright. Some women probably had to ensure that their jumpsuits matched their shade of lipstick…yes, that’s right: lipstick on a hike. Lipstick, I’m sure that was retrieved every so often from the Louis Vuitton handbag.
The men adorn themselves in suits of the same caliber only black, always black. What’s impressive about the Korean male hikers is the immensity of the backpack that they carry. Either Northface or some Korean off-brand bag, the men would adhere all of the necessary equipment. On some packs, Soju bottles were expertly tucked in where water bottles would rest… SOJU BOTTLES! Now that’s the way to hike. Next to the bottles, a mess tin would hang: perfect size for shooting Soju in celebrating the end of a long hike. Martha and I watched these hikers in mild fascination as we ate our SoyJoy bars and drank our mineral water. They pierced the Earth with their twin walking poles, many looking as if they had just flown back home from the Himalayas. Many of these couples could be found resting lazily with their mountain boots off near the small creeks and flat boulders.
At several points in our hike, me and Martha caught the attention of Korean hikers. “HELLO!” some would yell. We would greet in return. Not knowing any more English, some older hikers tried to elicit conversations with us, but we bowed our heads in shame, being lazy MeGooks with no more Korean to speak. I told Martha that my worst fear is that someone would try to warn us about something foreboding and we would have no idea. What we thought might have been “Nice day!” was actually “Beware: mountain lions at the top.” Luckily, there were no such encounters. But we did feel like celebrities at times, being the only blondes on the trail. Just trying to dispel rumors and lies about blondes, my friends.
Well, there are some photos, but I’m just too tired to post them. Next time. In short, it’s this kind of thinking which gets me by. I need to write more of my humorous observations so that I have less stories to tell later. 
Oh yeah, this and beer. These get me through it all.
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