It's been a long time

A tranquil river that winds its way through the Korean Folk Village in Suwon, South Korea

It has been quite awhile since I have posted to this space. Not because nothing has been happening, or because I had nothing to say...more because not blogging about anything was a way to avoid articulating things I didn't want to confront. 2014 was a year I am glad to put behind me. I was looking forward to things being different in 2015, but alas, thus far things are continuing in very much the same vein.

An apartment building in San Francisco, California, near Chinatown

It wasn't that I experienced terrible tragedies in 2014 -- on the contrary, I had some amazing opportunities and experiences last year. It was that everything seemed to be piling on top of me all at once: school, my personal life (such as it is...), my home life, important decisions to be made, fears about my future, constant challenges and fears in my immediate family circle, significant financial worries, continual car problems, depression about my current struggles and challenges, etc. It was a constant barrage of small- to medium-sized things that slowly piled higher and higher and higher.

The Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, California

I did some amazing things last year, though -- I visited California (San Francisco and Los Angeles) for the first time, I got to visit Seoul again for the first time in four years, my family moved across the United States to live the same state as me and I got to spend the holidays with them, I met amazing people, I learned a lot about myself and my Heavenly Father, I experienced in a very real way being carried by grace through trials and challenges that I knew were too big for me, but not too big for Him. It was a very instructive year, but it wasn't a very fun one.

Brightly painted beams support a tiled roof on the walls of the outer court at Gyeongbok Palace (the former imperial residence) in the middle of Seoul, South Korea

This is my last semester of graduate school (for now, anyway -- who knows, I may be crazy enough to go back to school and do it again sometime down the road), thank goodness. But that means two sources of stress coming to bear on me at the same time: 1) the aforementioned thesis, and 2) being finished with school means now there's a big fat question mark on every day after 9 May 2015.

North Korean guards on duty at the border of North and South Korea, Panmunjom, in the DMZ

Right now, the main source of my stress, anxiety, depression, fear, sense of inadequacy, and trepidation is my Master's thesis. (That doesn't mean that the second isn't also making its presence felt, however.) My thesis is about the first half of the first volume of Kim Il Sung's collected Works, which is supposed to contain speeches, etc that he gave from the summer of 1930 until the end of 1943. (The last half of the volume covers just a few months in 1945, following the end of World War II when the Japanese, who had been occupying Korea for the last 35 years, were defeated and Korea was "liberated".) Kim Il Sung would have been just barely 18 in the summer of 1930, and the events as they are narrated in this portion of the Works don't match up with the history most historians and Korean scholars accept. That being said, what the Works claims Kim Il Sung said was most likely fabricated out of whole cloth -- the topic of my thesis is exploring why that portion of the Works was written the way it was.

A South Korean soldier guards the door that leads to North Korea in a conference room that straddles the border -- he and I are both standing on ground that is technically in North Korea

I was due to turn in my finished draft to my committee this last week, but when I met with my advisor to give her a (very) rough first draft two weeks ago, she was concerned that I would need more time. I didn't want to move my date back because 1) if I did, I would no longer be able to graduate in May (but I could still walk in the graduation ceremony), and 2) I was afraid that with too much extra time I would just procrastinate everything until one and a half weeks before the new due date anyway. But to make a long story short, she (and the other members of my committee) won the battle and I'm now defending at the end of April, and due to turn in my draft to my advisor the Monday after spring break (~sob~ for my spring break turning into thesis-writing time...).

On the street in Sinchon-dong, Seoul, South Korea, an area popular with college students

It's a discouraging turn of events, but it does give me the opportunity to practice confronting my fears and sense of inadequacy and not procrastinate. I'm trying to look at it from that point of view and not be depressed about this stress continuing through the next two months of my life instead of being over in three short weeks. That will teach me to put things off...

The aforementioned Gyeongbok Palace at sunset

On Repeat

K.will - 이러지마 제발 (Please Don't)

박지윤 (Park Ji-yoon) - 나무가 되는 꿈 (Tree of Life)

Ailee - Heaven

B1A4 - 걸어 본다 (Tried to Walk)

Homesick

Today is the official last day of the semester, and most of the students are long gone. That means things are slow at the office. I'm flying home for Christmas next week, and I'm starting to get (more) homesick, in more than one way. How many ways can you be homesick? you ask. I'm anxious to get home and see my family, of course, but I've been missing Korea more and more lately.

Last night after work I took the bus downtown and had dinner at the Korean place. The proprietor and I are  pretty close. We chat about Korean politics (more like he lectures and I nod - my grasp of Korean-politics Korean is very tenuous), I hang out in the kitchen and chat with his mom (who makes the food), etc. And I can always count on him telling me I look like I've gained weight. (The topic is not taboo like it is in the States.) I've got to start working out regularly again, just so I can finally hear him tell me I've gotten skinnier.

I'd really like to go back to Korea soon. It doesn't look that will happen, especially not if I get into grad school this fall. The problem is that I don't know what I'd do there even if I went. I could teach English, but I don't know if that's something I'd want to do. I'd love to go to school there, but that's an expensive proposition. What I need is an American program that incorporates a study-abroad component, like the University of Hawaii's or American University's, but let's face it--I can't afford either of those places.

Actually, at this point, I'd like any kind of direction. Don't worry, I'm not all mopey like in my last post, but the frustration at my lack of direction is still there. I'm not any closer to knowing what I want to do with myself than I was three weeks ago or three months ago. It makes me feel a little lonely and pointless.

We interrupt your Friday evening for an important news flash...

So every once in a while I get on a kick. An obsession kick. Where I listen/watch/eat/read one thing over and over and over again. These last few days it's been SHINee, specifically their latest music video (see above - sorry, no English subs, since I couldn't find any good ones). It's called Sherlock. But it's catchy. And SHINee always has great choreography. When I watch their MVs I almost want to stop being lazy and ignore my abject fear of looking stupid and learn to dance like that.

Minority / Majority

I wrote this essay for my Perspectives on Race class that I'm taking right now. It's an interesting class, for all that we mostly just sit around discussing the issue more than trying to find an answer. Which begs the question, Is there an answer? We were supposed to write about a time that we were a minority or a time we were discriminated against, so I chose to write about living in South Korea. We were supposed to keep it to two pages (it's a large class, over 80 people), but I could have written a lot more on the subject if I'd had the space. If I had written more, I think I would have included more about what I learned and discussed in greater detail the treatment I received while I was there. But here's what I did get written.



"It's hard to be a minority when you're white and middle-class and living in America. I was never “normal”, per se, but I didn't stick out too much if you just looked at me. Which is why moving to South Korea for a year and a half rocked my world so much.

The United States may seem like the bastion of white middle-class-ness, but compared to South Korea it's incredibly diverse ethnically and culturally. For the first time in my life, I was the outsider in every way it was possible to be outside the norm: I wasn't ethnically Asian, I didn't speak the language, I couldn't eat the food, and the culture was totally foreign to me. I couldn't walk the walk or talk the talk, and I definitely didn't look the look.



My time in Korea wasn't my first experience being a minority – I grew up in an LDS family smack dab in the middle of the small-town, Bible Belt American South – but it was the first time people stared at me before I opened my mouth. In fact, I didn't have to do anything other than exist to get looks, both covert and overt, as I walked down the street. I was used to being “strange” because of what I believed and certain things I did or didn't do, but I wasn't equipped to handle the curious stares and whispers that trailed in my wake. I had years of experience explaining myself and my religion to skeptical and sometimes even hostile listeners; but now I couldn't communicate more than a few halting sentences, and anyway how can you confront people for merely looking at you? What could I have said?

My initial reaction to being so utterly foreign was a crippling self-consciousness. I tried to comfort myself by telling myself that not everyone was staring, but the truth was most people were. I'm average height in America, but in Korea I'm on the tall side. My hair, though light brown, is naturally wavy instead of heavy and straight. Even bundled up against the cold as I was there was no mistaking my double-lidded green eyes, and the weak winter sun and harsh wind only made my skin paler and my cheeks redder. It didn't help that little old ladies would come up to me, fascinated, and pat me on the back. You look just like a doll! they'd exclaim, reaching up to run their fingers through my hair. Is it natural? they asked.



After a few weeks self-consciousness gave way to anger. Stop looking at me! I wanted to shout. I'm just minding my own business, riding the bus just like you. Have you never seen a white girl before?! But of course they probably hadn't, not up close, and so the anger never made it past my thoughts. In time, the anger faded into amusement and the amusement faded into indifference. The stares and the whispers, the pats and the questions and the exclamations – they were all just part of life. It became such a part of life that coming home and fitting in again was almost as much a shock as sticking out had been when I first got to Korea.

I wouldn't say that I was particularly prejudiced or close-minded before going to Korea, but my experience there had a profound effect on me. I know what it's like now to be the person that isn't like everybody else. I know what it feels like now to be lumped into a stereotype willy-nilly, with no thought for who I am as an individual. I know how it feels to tamp down on the annoyance or anger that bubbles up when people make off-hand comments casually condemning something about which they know nothing.



It would be a lie to say that I don't have stereotypes and biases of my own, but since my experience in Korea I have tried hard to judge people on their own merits. I resist expecting people to act according to what “everyone” says. I've made a concerted effort to realize that people sometimes have very different ways of approaching life and its problems, and to reserve judgement on people's actions until I've at least tried to see things from their perspective. The outcome of those efforts has been profoundly enlightening, and I have come to see the world in a very different way from how I once saw it.

I don't relish being a minority. I returned to Korea one summer after I'd been back to America for about a year, and on bad days that annoyance and anger would flare up again. It's not particularly enjoyable to be stared at and whispered about and pigeonholed into a certain stereotype, but my life has become so much richer for that experience. My life has changed for the better, and I have become a better person for it. I cannot claim to be wholly without prejudice or bias or stereotype, but I can now recognize more easily when I've allowed them to creep into my judgements or my perceptions of people. My experience as a minority certainly doesn't equate with those whose experiences have been lifelong and overwhelmingly negative, but I can try to empathize based on what's happened to me. But I think most importantly my experiences have left me with a need to reach out to others, to overcome those small things that separate us so that we can learn from each other. Because what makes us the same is so much more than what makes us different."

Blast from the Past

Today I decided to go looking for the letters (well, emails) I wrote home to my family while I was a missionary in South Korea. This was prompted by reading my cousin's letter home to his family; he's currently serving a mission in Indonesia right now. Anyway, it's been just a little surreal, reading all the old emails. They brought up some events I'd kind of forgotten and reminded me just how young and sincere I was at the time. I don't think I'm less sincere now, but I'm definitely older and more jaded. And when I look back at my mission, I tend to dwell on how I perceived myself as failing at everything. My letters are a little more upbeat and full of faith, if only for appearance's sake, and they help me remember that I really did feel that way. Anyway, I'll just post one, a letter dated 5 March 2008. At the time, I was still in my first area, with my first companion, and just barely starting to get the hang of things. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say, I was just barely starting to get the hang of the hang of things.

Subject:With Love from Korea!

DearFamily and Friends,

Helloonce again from Korea! Sometimes it hits me all over again that I’mliving halfway around the world from where I was born, and then I getthese little chill bumps all over. Despite being here for almost 12weeks now, it feels just as unreal as the day I landed. Being amissionary, even, is still fairly unbelievable, and it’s been fivemonths since I went into the Missionary Training Center. Missionariesare those other people who wear suits and skirts and come eat dinnerat my house every month, not me. And that’s another thing – canyou believe that I’ve worn a skirt EVERY DAY for the last fivemonths and haven’t killed anyone yet? I would say that isdefinitely an example of the hand of the Lord in my life. ;)

Theend of another transfer (that’s a six-week period, at the end ofwhich some of the missionaries get moved around, which is why it’scalled a “transfer”) is fast approaching – the 15th is thenight we’ll find out if one of us is leaving Anyang. If one of usgoes, it will be me, since this upcoming transfer is Sister Pak’slast and no one gets transferred on their last transfer. I can’tbelieve I’ve been here this long! I feel just as stupid as the dayI stepped off the plane. It’s amazing to me that they send us outto the mission field with the most rudimentary of language basics anddump us right in the middle of things. And yet, despite that, thework of the Lord still goes forth in power. The Lord truly isaccomplishing His work through the small and simple things of theworld (see Alma 37:6-7); what could be less significant than a bunchof 19-21 year olds teaching the gospel in a language they barelyspeak? If it wasn’t His work it would be doomed to failure; thatThe Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints continues to grow andflourish despite the bumbling efforts of the missionaries is atestimony to me of its truthfulness. I’m so glad to have thisopportunity, as painful and humbling as it is, to be a very small andinsignificant part of His work. It truly is a blessing to me, and Ihope, to my family, both present and future.

Mycompanion, Sister Pak, is beginning to wonder if my hair is gettingdarker. She says I’m becoming more Korean by the day; the other dayI mused out loud that kimbop sounded really good. A month and a halfago, I wouldn’t even touch the stuff. The amount of spicy food Ieat regularly now would have sent me to the kitchen sink to gulp downgallons of water in an effort to soothe my mouth two months ago.Korean fashion is beginning to seem very normal – though I will saythat when I see men with green and red plaid shirts with pink andgreen striped ties, I still get a little shock. Sparkly pink ties,sparkly metallic tights, and blouses that look like they came fromVictorian England no longer phase me, however. This morning Icontemplated having rice for breakfast, though kimchi is still alittle much at 730 am. And I’m still American enough that BaskinRobbins is akin to Nirvana. That’s one thing I really, really missabout the States – cheese. Cheese and skim milk. You can’t findthem anywhere, at least not in small enough quantities for individualconsumption. They do have the fake processed plastic cheese, but Ihate that – it’s not real cheese! Real cheddar, real Colby jack,is impossible to find outside restaurants that serve it as part ofyour meal. Consequently, pizza has begun to take on new and moreglorious meaning to me. :) And I still don’t like squid. I thinkthat I will always hate it. [Note: I still do, four years later.]

Ifany of you have something you would like to know about particularly,please email me and let me know. It’s hard to think of things towrite about when I can’t exactly remember what’s common inAmerica and what’s distinctly Korean, and some things have becomeso much a part of my life that I don’t think they’re strangeanymore. So if you want to know something – email me! Even justyour question is fine, if you don’t have time for anything else. Itwould really help me out, and would probably be nicer for you than tohave to read all my random ramblings.

Ihope you’re all well and healthy! I love and miss you. :)

Love,AnnMarie and/or Sister Saunders

I love to see the temple

Seoul Korea Temple

"Holiness to the Lord

The House of the Lord"

Today I am missing this haven of peace. Oh, there's a temple here, too. And I love it. But it doesn't hold quite the same significance. The Seoul temple is literally smack-dab in the middle of the city, and yet, when you step inside the grounds, you can barely hear the hustle and bustle, or even see much of the city.

The State of AnnMarie

Houses and businesses in the middle of Seoul

Still jobless. Still place-to-live-less. Still carless. BUT! Purposeless no longer.

A couple of days ago, Tuesday to be exact (that would be 9 August), I finally decided what I'm going to do after I graduate next year.

I'm going to Korea, people.

Crossing the Han River running through the middle of Seoul in the morning on the train

Ever since April, when the whole question of what I was going to do after I (finally!) graduate in May 2012 first presented itself to my mind, I've been worrying this like a dog with a bone. Should I go to graduate school in the fall? In America? In Korea? What about working for a year and paying off a good chunk of my student loans? In America? In Korea? What the heck would I go to graduate school for, anyway? Something to do with Korea, yes, but what? Literature? Language? International politics? Should I try to work for the government? Should I teach? What should I do? Underneath this whole debate was the fact that I very much want to start a family - preferably before I die of old age. Or, you know, I turn 30. And let's face it, the odds of finding someone to marry in Korea are much smaller than they are in Utah, or even in the DC area (which is where I was contemplating going to grad school).

Kimchi pots at the historical village Minseokcheon

I finally took the question to the temple when I went on Tuesday. As I sat in the celestial room after thinking about it from many different angles, I concluded that there were really two things I want in life: First, I want to have a family and live with them in such a way that we can be together forever. Second, I want to serve the people in Korea in some fashion. Right now, I don't have control over the first one. But I do have control over the second one. And honestly, I don't want to do the "responsible thing" and go to graduate school; I want to go to Korea. This whole debate was ultimately just that: a debate between what I wanted to do and what I thought I should do. When I finally decided to go with my heart over my head, I felt so much better. Of course, that doesn't mean that I'm not open to a change of plans. I still trust that God, possessing the Big Picture, knows what's best for me better than I can. And so I'm willing to make a course correction if I need to. But at the same time, who's to say that what's best for me isn't going to Korea? Just because the odds of finding someone to marry in Korea are small doesn't mean that I won't find someone; after all, if that person is in Korea, it doesn't matter how good my odds are here, because he's somewhere else.

So there you have it. That's my plan. I'm still not solid on any of the specifics, like when exactly I'll go, or if I'll teach English or go to grad school in Seoul, or even if I might end up doing something else entirely. But I'm going. And I feel good about that. ^_^

Looking down on Seoul from one of the surrounding mountains

Randomness of the Kdrama Persuasion

(All screencaps from dramabeans.com and ockoala.wordpress.com.)

Pak Min-young as Kim Yoon-hee in Sunkyunkwan Scandal

It's hard to imagine that anyone would be foolish enough to think that the person above was a boy after she had appeared in front of you wearing those clothes.  And yet, somehow, someone (the guy in the second picture below) still did...and even if you don't quite buy that, the tension of "the boy liking the very pretty girl that he thinks is a very pretty boy"...mmmmm, well. It's a lot of fun. And the drama is well-directed and well-acted, and absolutely beautiful to behold. Shall I picspam you with some of the yummy male leads?

Yoo Ah-in as Moon Jae-shin, the bad-boy protector type who falls for Yoon-hee 

Pak Yoo-cheon, also known as Micky Yoo-cheon from DBSK, as Lee Seon-joon, her one true love

Song Joong-ki as Gu Yong-ha, resident playboy and my personal favorite

In other news, my latest crack drama, 장란스러운 키스 (Playful Kiss), just ended last Thursday, and now I am very sad. It wasn't the best drama I've ever seen, but it was still pretty darn captivating. It doesn't hurt that Jung So-min as Oh Ha-ni was completely convincing and utterly adorable and relatable.  Also, it didn't hurt that Kim Hyun-joong as Baek Seung-jo was utterly delectable and yummy-looking, either. Add in romantic hijinks, an excellent group of second leads, and some good camera work, and voila you have the recipe for bona fide drama crack. And lots of squeeling and awwwing.

Jung So-min as Oh Ha-ni and Kim Hyun-joong as Baek Seung-jo in Playful Kiss

And just because I love this drama and think it's adorable, more pictures!

Today Was One of THOSE Days

THOSE days are the days where you wake up in a bad mood and everything seems to get worse from there on out. I was in a horrible mood all this monring and into the afternoon, but a little shopping (got a new book, yay!) and  hanging out with 경숙 (Kyoungsook, my tutor) thankfully brought a little sunshine into my disposition, if not into the actual sky (it rained all day).

I can't decide if I want to go home or not. I do want to go home because I'm ready to have my own space again, to be able to nest and spread out and just do things the way I want to. I'm funny that way. But on the other hand, I really don't want to leave Korea. I don't want to go back to school and have to deal with all that again. By "that", I mean real life. It's such a pain sometimes. Not to mention that I get treated like a princess and I eat like a king. That's always nice, too.

This is, in fact, my very own picture, taken by me at 민속촌 in 수원 when I was there a year ago.

O Remember, Remember

 Big Bang's TOP in the movie 71-Into the Fire

I watched 포화속으로 (translated literally as "Into the Gunfire") today after class with a friend of mine (my "cousin," actually). The story is of a single battle that occured during the Korean War. Due to the lack of troops, a group of 71 student-soldiers were charged with defending a strategic point against the advancing North Korean army making its way to Pohang, a shipping port in the south of Korea. As this summer marks the 60th anniversary of the start of the Korean War, there's been a lot of films and dramas being released that deal with the war; this is one of them.

I swear I haven't cried so much in the last five years as I did in one two-hour span today. I used to really enjoy action movies, though war movies weren't ever really my thing, but at some point I stopped cheering at all the explosions and started thinking about all the collateral damage they cause. Watching a movie that is based on an actual historical event just multiplied that feeling a hundredfold. Everything is a thousand times more tragic when you stop to think about the things that don't show up on the screen -- all their mothers, their little brothers and sisters, their fathers, their sweethearts, the children they would have had, the things they would have done, the innocence they lost and all the terrible things they had to do and live through.

I'm not doing a terribly good job of saying what I was feeling. Ideas and feelings that seemed so impressive at the time really lose all that when you try to put them into words. Suffice it to say, it was a good movie, one that made me think, and remember.

Things I Love About Korea

I love eating on the floor. Actually, I pretty much just love the way Koreans eat food, period. I love eating with chopsticks. I love having my bowl of rice, and eating out of the common dishes that fill the rest of the table. I love having a 찌개 (Korean soup) and five million kinds of 김치 (kimchi), or just the one common kind with rice and 김 (roasted, salted seaweed). I love eating fruit after every meal. (The only exception to this is when the fruit happens to be tomatos with sugar sprinkled on them. I've changed a lot of my thinking since coming to Korea, but I'm afraid that I'll always see tomatos as a vegetable, despite their actual classification as a fruit.) I love that so much of Korean family life revolves around food.

I love that people love that I greet them in Korean. It almost never gets old, that little start of Oh, I wasn't expecting that when someone tries to pantomime something to me and I speak back to them in Korean. Or the way they exclaim, "You're so good at Korean!" when all I've said is hello. Sometimes this grates, but usually not.

I love the Korean emphasis on the family. I especially love Korean little kids. I think I want at least one of my very own. Still working out on how to swing that...

I love Korean floors. I love that no one wears shoes in the house, and that the floors are always spotlessly clean. (This is important when you use it not as just a surface to rest other things on, but as your living space.) I especially love that Korean floors are heated in the winter, instead of uselessly heating the air in the room. It makes winter mornings much more enjoyable.

I love Korean pop culture. So much more enjoyable than its American cousin.

"Have miracles ceased? Behold I say unto you, Nay"

Moroni 7:29


Two weekends ago I went to Busan to visit an old companion of mine. She was my only Korean companion, and she was also my first junior companion. She's literally an angel -- I've never known a sweeter, more generous and giving person in my life. I was sad that I was with her for only a transfer before I got transferred to another area.

Busan is about three and a half hours away from Jeonju by bus. We decided that I'd take the 930 bus and she'd meet me at the terminal and we'd figure out our plans from there. No big deal, right? My first stroke of bad luck was getting to the bus terminal in Jeonju and realizing that my phone hadn't stayed on after I turned it on that morning. The battery had died the day before, but I'd been sure to plug it in that night, and hadn't bothered to drop my charger in my bag, because I was only going to be gone for the weekend, right? It turns out that my phone hadn't charged, I'm not sure why, and I was headed to Busan to meet my companion without any way to contact her -- because, of course, the only place I had her number was in my phone. I didn't have anyone else's number memorized, either. I got on the bus and hoped that she'd be there waiting for me when I got to the station like she said she would be; otherwise, I wasn't sure what was going to go down.

I made it to Busan and into the terminal. I walked along slowly, looking all around me: no luck. I headed upstairs, looked outside, waited for twenty minutes; no sign of her. I started panicking slightly. The only person I knew in Busan was her; and unlike Seoul, I didn't know my way around, I'd never been there before, and I didn't even have her address so I could try to make my way to her house and wait for her there. I prayed. I looked around some more. Still no luck. I prayed again, a little more earnestly. Dear God. I know this is my fault for ignoring that little niggling in my mind this morning that said to put my charger in my bag. I know this is my fault for not having the presence of mind to keep a written copy of her number with me. But God, I really don't know anyone here, I have no way of getting in touch with her with my phone dead, and she's not here. Help. Please.

I tried turning on my phone, to see if that would be the answer to my prayer. Maybe it would miraculously stay on long enough for me to retrieve her number, and then I could call her from a payphone. After a few tries it wouldn't even turn on anymore. Strike that idea.

Before I could completely abandon myself to despair, a tiny little thought niggled its way into my brain. What if I called the missionaries? My companion was a return missionary, and missionaries love return missionaries. Surely they'd have her number. The phone book would probably have the number for the church, and it was lunch time so maybe they'd be at the church making copies or something...it was the best shot I had. I went downstairs and found -- miraculously -- a phone book in one of the phone booths. I looked up the name of the church -- 예수 그리스도 후기 성도 교회. There were some fifteen entries, at least. I had no way of knowing which was her ward, so I just started from the first one and decided to work my way down the list. No one answered at the first number, so I tried the second. Success! Someone answered, but I could barely hear him. I asked if the number was for the Haeundae Ward. He said no. I asked if he knew the number. He said yes, but asked me why I wanted to know. I explained what had happened, and added that I was trying to get ahold of my companion. He asked who it was. I told him. Ah! he said, I know her. Would you like me to give you her number?

I gave her a call, and after a few minutes of searching for each other, we discovered that we were in competely different terminals. Turns out there are more than one, and which one you end up at depends on where you leave from. I left from the only one I knew about, and she went to meet me at the only one she knew about. If I hadn't been able to get in touch with her, I would have had to turn around and go home -- I never would have found her, no matter how long I waited, and she never would have found me, either. I have no idea who it was I called on the phone. I found out later, after I told my companion the story, that it really was miraculous that I was able to get in touch with her -- a little while before, she had switched phones and her number had changed, and most people didn't have her new number. Even if I had reached the missionaries, for instance, they would have had the wrong number. Somehow, I got in touch with one of very few people who had the correct number.

We had a great weekend together, even though it did rain. (The area she lives in is very famous in Korea for its beaches. We walked along one for about five minutes, and then the heavens opened in a very Noah-like fashion that lasted all weekend.) I was able to charge my phone and got home without any further incidents, but now I have a really cool story about personal revelation and listening to the Spirit and a firmer conviction that God loves us even though we're pretty much always screwing up. There was nothing I did that made me deserving of the miracle I received, but I took God at His word that if I asked in faith, I'd get an answer, and He did. I hope all of you will have an occasion to do the same -- but perhaps in a less dramatic fashion.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

...and mine is in Korea. To tell the truth, I was worried before I came back. Everyone (oh, nebulous Everyone, cousin to They!) told me that it's different when you're not a missionary, that I would find it very different and not to be disappointed. Plus, this time around I'm not in Seoul. Nope, this time I'm in a "small city" of only 700,000 people. (I keep trying to convince Koreans that this is, in fact, quite a large city, but they don't buy it.)




But to tell the truth, I'm more in love than I was the first time. Well, by the end of the first time. Of course it's different when I'm not a missionary, but everything I love about Korea is still the same -- the food, the people, the culture, plus, this time around I get to add in an obsession: dramas! And noraebangs! (Basically, it's private karaoke where you only have to sing in front of your friends.) And, I don't have to walk around all day in the summer heat, so that's definitely an improvement. The truth is, in some ways I feel more comfortable and at home in Korea than I do in the States. I'm not sure why that is, exactly, but maybe it's because somehow I blend into the rhythm of life better. Maybe it's because I blatantly stick out that I feel more like I fit in. I don't know. I just know I love it here.

I wish I had some pictures to post, but my camera has pretty much bitten the dust. (This is in addition to my computer and my iPod. This is not a good year for my electronics.) So instead I'll just write a little bit about what's going on right now.

I'm in Jeonju, South Korea, studying at Chonbuk National Unversity. I get up every morning around 645, get ready for the day and eat the (very hearty) breakfast my 이모 (it means "aunt") makes for me, then head out around 750. I catch the bus about 805, make it to the classroom by about 830, and have four hours of classes starting at 900. There are three classes, beginning, intermediate, and advanced; I'm in the advanced class. For the first two hours we have 유승섭 선생님 (Professor Yoo Seung-seop), who is our grammar teacher; for the last two hours, we have 이숙정 선생님 (Professor Lee Sook-jeong) for speaking and listening. She's pretty much the bomb. I want to grow up to be just like her. On Friday afternoons and Monday mornings, instead of our regular class we have 김병용 선생님 (Professor Kim Byeong-yong), who is...well, he's supposed to be our writing teacher, but he mostly just lectures for two hours about whatever he wants, then gives us massive, ugly, really-difficult-even-for-Koreans articles to translate into English.

At one pm, we let out for lunch, then have the rest of the day to do homework (this is Korea, after all, the land of much homework and constant studying). We also meet with our peer tutors. Mine is particularly awesome. Her name is 김경숙 (Kim Kyung-sook), and she's a year younger than me so she calls me 언니 (the term for a girl's older sister) and we're not actually friends by Korean standards (only people the same age can be "friends" -- everyone else is a "close [fill in the appropriate relationship term here]"), but we are good friends in the American way of looking at it. I usually come home in the evening around 1900, sometimes earlier and sometimes later, depending on what activities we had in addition to class that day. My family -- my 이모, my little sister, 민경 (Min-kyung), and my little brother, 준영 (Jun-young). I do have a dad, but he lives and works in Seoul during the week and only comes home on weekends; since I've been gone every weekend except the first one, I haven't seen him in about three weeks. But we're going on a family trip this weekend, to Seoul, to a waterpark, so that will be fun. Anyway, after dinner (which is very yummy; my 이모 says she's not a good cook, but all the food is wonderful), we usually do homework, watch TV (DRAMAS!!!!! In real-time in KOREA!), tease each other, ask various language questions, or I get quizzed on my day. It's a very relaxed, family atmosphere. I'm getting spoiled, too, because my 이모 does everything and won't let me help. It's very different from my family, that's for sure. But not bad. ;)

Next post: my cool adventure in 부산 (Busan) and some more about what I'm doing.

대한민국! The Story, Part I

I'm finally here. After being over-orientated and hearded around like a middle-schooler, I'm finally with my host family in Jeonju, South Korea. It's early Sunday morning here -- Fathers' Day back in the States -- so this the beginning of the second full day with them, and already I have a lot to talk about.

Our family at Corky's in Memphis, one of the best BBQ places in the States

Just a short outline of what occured prior to this: I left Martin early last Saturday morning with my family for a vacation to Memphis, necessitated by the fact that the State Department booked me a flight out of that airport at 600. We went to a museum, ate lunch at Corky's, walked the entire length of the Mississippi and its tributaries at Mud Island, visited Beale Street, went grocery shopping, and swam at the hotel. Sunday Dad and I were up at 400 (me at 330, actually) and I was off to Chicago at 600. I finally arrived in DC around 1400, made my way to the hotel after meeting up with some of the other CLS people, spent the time before the icebreaker/first orientation catching up with a friend, then attended the first of many orientations that evening before going to bed. In the morning we started our day-long orientation at promptly 900, sat in one room for almost the entire time until 1700, then went out for a yummy Malaysian dinner on good ol' Uncle Sam (your tax dollars at work, people!). I met up with another friend for ice cream and a chat, called a few people, then went to bed.

We left early the next morning for Korea, flying out of Dulles on a United 777. I was stuck in the back of the plane in the middle of a row of five peple, between two rather large guys, for 13 hours with nothing really interesting to do and unable to sleep. (I don't recommend that you ever fly overseas on an American carrier. Foreign is totally the way to go: better service, better food, better entertainment, better accomodations...) We had a short layover in Japan, and then it was on another plane to Seoul, where we finally landed and met up with our director around 2030. By the time we made it to the hostel, it was late and we were exhausted. Sadly our room had a few quite loud snorers, which didn't really help me feel any more rested when I was woken at around 600 the next morning by my overly-anal, but well-intentioned, roommates to get ready for the day.

Our hostel

Our first full day in Korea was filled with more orientations: we made a trip to the US Embassy for one on safety and for an introduction to the country, then went to have lunch at the Seoul YWCA. After that we finally had some free time to explore Myongdong, one of the most famous shopping areas in Seoul, for an hour; Katey and I headed out and explored (and bought Korea soccer jerseys! Go Korea!) to the point that we got all turned around and lost. Good thing I speak Korean and have had lots of practice asking for directions. Bad thing that there are apparently two YWCAs in Myongdong, and people were directing me to the wrong one. Good thing Korean people are way nice and a very amused but still helpful 아저씨 (an older man) took us to the right one -- which turned out to be right behind the one we were directed to. We were only about 20 minutes late, but hey, it was only another orientaton anyway. After that one, we had dinner at California Pizza Kitchen, to the relief of many of the kids who haven't spent 1.5 years living in Korea, then trooped over to a bank in the area who had set up a big projector screen and chairs for their employees to watch the Korea/Argentina game. We got to cheer on Korea wearing the red jerseys and the big air-filled noise-making sticks and the songs and the chants and surrounded by probably more than a thousand completely patriotic Koreans who were very disappointed by Korea's 4-1 loss to Argentina. I was pretty disappointed, too. I think I was the most into it, but I also had the most fun. :)

Some of my group before the game started; in the background you can see one of the many, many huge posters that are plastered on almost every single large building in Seoul. EVERYTHING is World Cup-themed right now, down to almost every commerical on TV.

The crowd at the pregame activities - sorry, my camera doesn't record sound.



The crowd at half time, right after the only Korean goal of the game - still no sound, sorry.

When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad...

...I simply remember my favorite dramas, and then I don't feel so bad. (All screencaps from dramabeans.com.)

Chun Jung-myung as Ki-hoon and Moon Geun-young as Eun-jo in Cinderella's Sister

I love stories. When I was younger, and my mother will attest to this, I used to spend hours and hours and hours reading. My parents never bothered grounding me, since I never went anywhere anyway; they just took away my books. Oh, I take it back. They never grounded me from playing with friends -- they grounded me from the library. I distinctly remember one time when I got in trouble, pleading with my parents to do something, anything, other than taking away my books. So instead they made me weed the front flower beds, which kept me busy for three days, and effectively kept me away from my books, as well. I always insisted on having a night light -- not because I was afraid of the dark, but because then I could read after I went to bed. I made my little sister sleep on the top bunk so I could store my favorite books in the slots on the underside of her bed and have them within arm's reach at all times.

Chae Rim as Yoon Kae-hwa and Choi Shi-won as Sung Min-woo in Oh! My Lady

I still love to read (I would never have gone to SJC otherwise; in fact, that's what got my attention -- a college that reads books for a curriculum? Where do I sign up???), but as you probably already know, these days my crack is Korean dramas. There are several reasons; I first started watching them after the mission because I missed Korea and hearing Korean. There isn't a lot of Korean in small towns in rural Tennessee, after all. My first drama was the explosively popular Boys Over Flowers, about a poor dry cleaner's daughter that gets a scholarship to an exclusive prep school for rich kids and her run-ins with the school's ruling clique, F4, four incredibly rich, incredibly handsome, and incredibly stuck up boys. And of course she and F4's leader -- the most rich, most handsome, and most stuck up of the four -- become entangled in all kinds of romantic tension and angst. There's love triangles, kidnapping, evil mothers, trips to exotic locations, hot boys, romance -- what's not to love? I was hooked. (By the way, if you click on the names of the dramas under the screencaps, you'll be taken to sites where you can watch them with English subtitles.)

Gu Hye-sun as Geum Jan-di and Lee Min-ho as Gu Jun-pyo in Boys Over Flowers

Of course, watching Korean dramas is a great way for me to practice my listening skills -- there aren't that many more opportunities for speaking Korean in downtown Annapolis than in rural Tennessee -- but if I'm honest with myself, that's just an excuse. (It's not untrue, however -- it really does help. I've learned all kinds of new words and expressions from dramas. For example, while serving as a missionary in Korea, I never knew anything more offensive than the Korean equivalent of "stupid" or "idiot", and I only learned that by accident. I'm much more familiar with the less polite side of Korean now than I ever was before. That's not to say I haven't learned anything else, though.) There are thousands of Korean drama fans who don't speak a single word of Korean and still watch them religiously, with the aid of subtitles provided by other Korean-and-English-speaking fans. So just what is it that's so compelling?

Jung Il-woo as Iljimae in The Return of Iljimae

I don't know that I could speak to the merits of Korean dramas for other people, especially ones who don't speak Korean and have never been to Korea. For me, that connection is a big draw, because I miss Korea and it's nice to have a small taste of it in my crazy school life. The structure of Korean network TV is also different than American networks, in (I think) a much better way: they don't interrupt the shows with commercials, they air two episodes every week, and Korean TV is still censored, so a lot of the crap that's making its way into American primetime TV isn't there. (Sometimes, though, the innocence goes a little too far, in my opinion. For example, in some romantic comedies, when the couple finally get around to kissing (and it may take more than half the show), all they do is lean together and touch lips -- that's it. The camera's whirling around, the music is swelling, all indicators are pointing to big romantic moment -- but it's difficult to watch two people awkwardly just standing there not doing anything while they're "kissing.") Probably the biggest difference, though, is that there are no "seasons" of a show -- the show is set for 16, or 20, or 24, or even 50 episodes (sometimes even more) and the storyline unfolds within those confines. Rarely is there a sequel in the true sense. And most dramas aren't episodic, meaning that there's usually one larger storyline that continues throughout all the episodes (often it's the romantic pairing, but not always), with suspense-building cliffhangers at the end of each episode.

Yoon Eun-hye as Go Eun-chan and Gong Yoo as Choi Han-kyul in Coffee Prince

I guess, for me, it all boils down to the simple fact that I love stories, and I love Korea. I don't think it's more complicated than that. Some stories are well-written, well-acted, well-directed, well-scored, and well-edited to produce a lovely, compelling story (see The Return of Iljimae, a semi-historical series based on a Robin Hood-esque hero, or Cinderella's Sister, a modern-day twist and excellent elaboration on the classic fairy tale). Some aren't any of those things, but you just can't stop watching anyway (see Boys Over Flowers). The best dramas, like the best books, bring their characters to life, make you laugh, make you cry, make you gasp or giggle, make you fall in love -- but most of all they make you examine the world and your place in it. They make you think. They raise issues, whether they be deep, epic themes about life or love, or smaller, quieter ones like good friendships and happy families. Stories are important, precisely because they do make us consider those things, and in ways that we might not be willing to if faced with them outright. 

Kim So-yeon as Kim Sun-hwa and Lee Byung-heon as Kim Hyun-jun in IRIS

I hope that even if you don't become an addict like me, that you'll take the time to check out some of the better dramas I've mentioned (all of the ones here are good, in different ways, but of course there are others; just ask me and I'll tell you anything you want to know). Even if the stories weren't that dissimilar from what you'd see on your own TV tonight, I think it's worth experiencing how someone else -- some other culture -- treats the same situations and experiences you have. You'd be surprised, I think, and who knows? You might even learn something.

Soooo...now what?

I should probably update more, but I don't have much to write about at the moment. My essay's turned in, I had my oral last week, and now all I'm doing is hanging in there until 17 May when I can go home and see (most of) my family.

I finally turned in my official acceptance to the Critical Language Scholarship today. I'm so thrilled to be going back to Korea this summer. It's going to be a completely different experience this time around; not only will I not be a missionary, I won't be in Seoul, either, but in Jeonju, a couple of hours south of the city. We're also doing homestays with local families, which I'm really excited about, as well; you definitely have a better opportunity to learn when you actually have to speak the language outside of class.

Jeonju, South Korea

Perspective

It's been awhile since I've been in the same place as a legitimate snow storm, but I think this one qualifies. It's been snowing now for more than twelve hours, and I hear it's not supposed to stop until tonight around ten. We're already knee-deep in snow (literally) -- how much more are we going to get? At least they finally closed the mall. Now I can spend today writing my logic paper and starting on my sophomore essay.

The real reason I wanted to write today was because of something that popped into my mind while I was perusing my logic book, trying to come up with a topic for this paper. I'm not sure why this wiggled its way into my consciousness, but I remembered one particular instance that happened when I was still a greenie in Anyang. At this point in my mission, talking to anyone took an enormous amount of courage, and my poor trainer was probably at her wits' end trying to get me to do it. We were out on the streets not too far from our apartment, in an area that was fairly busy with foot traffic. It must have been sometime in my second transfer, I think, because I was talking to people on my own. I approached an older woman, maybe in her late 50s or early 60s, and 인사'd to her -- in other words, I bowed and asked her 좋은 하루 보내세요?, something along the lines of, "Are you having a good day?"  The woman looked at me kinda funny and said the Korean equivalent of, "What?", so I tried again. 좋은 하루 보내세요? No luck. Once more, a little more clearly and slowly: 좋은 하루 보내세요? She waved her husband over, made him listen, too: 좋은 하루 보내세요? "I can't understand even one word she's saying, what's she trying to say?" she asked her husband. My face burned with shame and embarrassment.

It's funny, but I don't remember how this encounter ended. I think I gave up after a point, just bowed and said, 안녕히 가세요, Good-bye, have a good day, and retreated.

This was really a unique experience on my mission. Even when I was very young and still learning Korean (young in the missionary sense, I mean), I didn't have too much trouble making myself understood, at least so far as my accent was concerned. I have a good accent, I know I do. People (Korean people) have told me that I sound like a native speaker at times, and at all the other times, I'm certainly understandable. I think this case was a function of 1) my saying something that's not really a common way of greeting someone in Korea, 2) her surprise at being addressed by a foreigner, in Korean no less, and 3) her not knowing what to expect from me. There are so many reasons communication breaks down, but I think these three are pretty universal, even if you're speaking the same language. It's funny, too, how dismayed and depressed I was about this experience while I was living it, but now, two years later -- has it really been two years? -- I look back and laugh.

우리 한식 아침 식사 (Our Korean breakfast)

My family (minus the two kids right under me) sit down for a Memorial Day Korean breakfast!

Becca had a bit of a hard time of it, learning to use chopsticks. Daddy gives her a quick crash course.

Marianne eats some 김치 (kimchi).

Danny pauses his delicious meal to make an adjustment to his chopsticks-holding style.

Even Nathan (the littlest) thought it was tasty, as evidenced by his empty bowl.

This is what was left of an entire jar of 김치 (kimchi), a whole package of 김 (seaweed), and two cans of 참치 (tuna).

My mom and dad went up to Springfield, Illinois for a Mormon History Association convention this last weekend. While they were there, my mom stopped off at the Asian market and picked up some ingredients I need to make Korean food. Half in jest, I asked them last night if they'd like a Korean breakfast...only to be woken up this morning by my two youngest siblings clamoring for me to make them a Korean breakfast. Of course, I'm not sure if they knew that meant eating rice, kimchi, seaweed, and tuna for breakfast...but I've got to give them credit, they ate it well and pretty cheerfully. David didn't like it much (I think mostly because he can't use chopsticks and was too embarrassed to give it a proper go), and my mom wasn't a very big fan, but the little kids, and Daddy especially, really liked it. They ended up eating a whole jar (a small one, but still) of kimchi and an entire package of seaweed! They did much better than I did the first time I had the same meal, that's for sure. I guess it's a good thing my mom bought a whole gallon of kimchi -- it looks like we're going to need it!