Well, it's been about a month since my last email. I've had every good intention, on several intermittent occasions, of writing to you all, but somehow have up till now been unable to focus on collecting all my thoughts.
Life is dealing well with me lately. Spring begins to discard its inconstancy and to become more assertive. As the gray skies lift, so to does my spirit.
The only one disobliging element of an otherwise perfect season is the yellow dust. Every year in April, for about two weeks, fine dust from the more arid regions of China blows across Korea, positively enshrouding the country in a hazy, yellowish fog. Some days it's not bad, but on others the air is thick and dirty. I'll try to remember to attach a picture of it. In this case a visual is worth a thousand words.
A week ago I registered at Sogang Language Institute, for the fall semester. There are no words with which to describe my absolute happiness in the prospect of finally settling down to learn Korean. I've come to realize about myself that I don't like to stay on one place for very much time. I've been teaching at SCG for long enough. Forward and Onward!
Meanwhile I continue to study Korean with Boyeun, who has become an amazing friend to me. We hang out a lot, and she's made my life here infinitely easier. Fluent in both English and Korean, and having spent three years in Canada, she understands Western culture, and knows first hand how it feels to be a 'foreigner'. We relate very well, and I'm grateful for her friendship.
My commitment here ends toward the end of June, so between then and September, I'm a free woman. Taking advantage of this rare state of being, I'll be home for two months this summer. YAY! I'm hugely excited.
A couple of weeks ago my adult English class treated me to dinner. This class is composed solely of male employees from the company, none of whom speak very fluent English. On this occasion, however, and to my pleasant surprise, a young woman came along, who (though she spoke no English), served to relieve the situation of any awkwardness it may otherwise have afforded.
The restaurant they took me to was a typically traditional one. We sat at a small round table, with a grill set deep in the middle. This was filled with white-hot coals, and covered with an open rack. Here was grilled perhaps some of the most delicious cuts of beef I've had yet in Korea. Tender, juicy, and delectable. I felt very Korean, eating this with raw onion, garlic, and horseradish, thought I was only just able to refrain from asking for water.
Dinner over, desert was brought out. Artfully arranged on a bed on parsley, and liberally topped with shredded pare, a pound or two of raw ground beef was set before us. My eyes widened, and I found my lips twitching at the absurdity of such a dish. Fortunately, my half-smile communicated, to those curious eyes watching my face, a degree of pleasure, and I was invited to dig in. It was better than I had expected, but only just. The taste was fine, but the thick, greasy consistency was nauseating. However, I helped them to polish of the last of it with out recourse to either water or the glass of beer placed at my elbow.
This particular drink had been liberally partaken of through the meal, by the others. My own abstinence was commented on, but I excused myself, "The taste is very strange." They all nodded with sympathetic understanding, and held up their glasses for more.
After dinner, we went to a coffee house (of very cozy and comfortable ambiance…such a thing would absolutely take Bandon by storm) where I, by ordering a Latte, forestalled the inevitable next round of beer. We talked comfortably for a while, the only disturbance to my peace of mind lying in the amount of caffeine I was ingesting at such a late hour. It must by this time have been nearly nine o'clock. After some small talk, one of the men announced, "We must be home by 10:00." I cocked my head curiously and he explained, "After 10:00 police officers arrest drivers who have been drinking." There was a barely perceptible pause, then he asked politely, "Would you like me to drive you home after we leave? My house is close to yours." It's to my credit that I didn't burst out laughing at the absurdity of this offer, coming as it did on the heels of his previous statement. I declined gracefully enough, but still shake my head ruefully at the memory of that evening.
Boyeun bought me flowering potted cacti for my birthday. They're beautiful, each holding his own vibrant orange or red or pink head up with the inexorable dignity of one conscious of his own superiority, whether real or imagined. I find their stately airs amusing, though I never let on…not, of course, as though they would take me seriously, if I did. Such an ego cannot fathom that one might see him as less than he perceive himeslf to be. At any rate, we get on famously. They are the only plants with which I have absolute success, simply because I'm never required to touch them.
The school shooting in Virginia has been a hot topic here. I've been amazed at the Koreans' reaction to it. They took it really hard. It's just a guess, but I'd say that most Americans, those not directly involved, probably heard the news, threw mental hands heavenward, exclaimed in horrified accents, "Dear God, that's terrible!!!", then went back to their dinners. The Koreans, on the other hand, listened with stolid silence and lost their appetites. The Korean concept of family and nationality is such that one member represents all. Korea is apprehensive that America will point her outraged finger, "What kind of people are you?!" The apparently individual personal responsibility assumed is sobering to watch.
Well, this is getting rather long. I will end with a thought that has lately made me very happy. The end of Zephaniah 3:17 reads: "He will joy over thee with singing." That word 'joy' is 'to spin around under the influence of any violent emotion.' That I infuse God with such elation is beyond my grasp…
May we learn to so joy over Him,
Elisabeth
