A Very Good Stove

Dear Family,

It feels rather more like three months than three weeks have passed between my last email and this. Oregon seems so long ago and far away, it's such a different world! Sometimes it's hard to picture you all going about your daily lives there, as I do here, with the same vitality of life and moment by moment experiences.

Last week and this have been occupied with preparing for our mid-terms. We had our writing, listening, reading tests on Friday, which I think I did okay on. In any case, I felt well enough prepared for those. Tomorrow we've an interview, which is a little more nerve wracking to look forward to. At least with reading and writing one can take what time he needs and go back to review his answers before submitting them. But speaking is a different matter. One must, of necessity, be somewhat spontaneous, and there isn't the time-to-think allowance. I'll probably do okay, if I don't get too flustered, but there's no guarantee on that . Actually, provided you check your email in the early afternoon, I'll be taking my interview as you read this.

And then life, or at least school, goes back to normal.

Tomorrow, directly after the interview, I make my way to Apgujeong Station, about forty-five minutes away, for what will hopefully be my last check up in relation to my wisdom teeth extraction.
I had my sutures out two weeks ago, and what pleasant relief that was! The swelling in my mouth had gone down right away, leaving those loose and abrasive. That was, I announce with a general feeling of gratitude, the worst of it. The dentist had told me that, because of where the nerves in my jaw run in relation to the roots of my teeth, I should expect to experience numbness and tingling for a few months after the extraction. On the left side, he said, the nerves were so close that he couldn't recommend the extraction of those teeth, and that if I chose to have them out, I should be prepared to loose the feeling on that side of my mouth for up to one and a half years. As you know, I decided to brave the consequences and have them pulled anyway, for a number of inconsequential reasons. When I went back a week after the event for a check up, he looked at my throat and gums and jaw, and asked if I was experiencing any numbness or tingling yet (it's supposed to take up to a week to begin to loose feeling). When he saw that there was no swelling, no pain (I never had to take the painkiller he had prescribed), and no nerve damage, he exclaimed, "You had all four wisdom teeth out at once, and there are no complications. That is impossible." Since my mouth was hanging open with a mirror and pick in it, I was unable to answer. But I smiled with my eyes, and thanked God with my heart, thinking, "Yes, that's just like You."

The gas range that gawkily adorned my kitchen when I moved in was much improved, in appearance only, by a thorough scrubbing. In response to every other aspect thereof, the best attitude that I could muster was a half-hearted, "Well, at least it's something." But that something, the flame of which was altogether impish and capricious, may as well have been a nothing, for all the use I got out of it. Before the flame would condescend to even catch, I had to flick the knob between the on and off positions at least a half dozen times. At that point, it would flicker for only a second before going out again. After two or three more minutes of knob flicking, the stove would acknowledge me master of the situation, and the flame would stay lit. But only at a full blaze. There was no turning it down even the smallest degree. Really, the only thing it was good for was boiling water, because that is unburnable. But even then, I couldn't use my pot, because the flame would lick up its sides and melt its plastic handles. Nevertheless, undaunted and determined, I would light the flame, brave the nauseating gas fumes, and hold my big frying pan up several inches above the fire to cook at a simulated low heat. Needless to say, I did more eating out than home cooking during those first weeks.
The fix-it man, the same who had replaced all my toilet parts as I was moving in, came by about two weeks ago, at my request, and looked at the stove, to see if he could fix it. After tinkering a bit, he shook his head gravely, and pronounced the solemn verdict, "You need a new stove."
I sighed, and nodded, "Yes, I thought I might. Thank you for looking at it."
He then took himself off, and I made a mental note to go stove shopping over the weekend.
Fifteen minutes later, there was another knock on the door. I opened it to find that the fix-it man had returned, "Here is a new stove." He nodded over his shoulder, and stepped aside to make way for a second man, bent double with a heavy box on his back. I was surprised, thought not displeased, and followed them curiously into the kitchen.
"It costs a hundred fifty thousand won (about $150)." Mr. Fix-it casually informed me.
I was appalled, "Oh! That's too expensive!"
He shook his head grandly, "No, this is a very good stove."
"But I don't have a lot of money. And I know I can get one for only fifty thousand."
Again, "It's a very good stove." in a placid tone of voice.
"I don't want a good stove." I objected, with some asperity, "I want a cheep stove!"
I was then treated to the, 'Now, now! Be a good child!' look that, as a foreigner, I've grown accustomed to, but have yet to learn to accept gracefully. Seeing, however, that there was nothing to be done, and since the new stove had by this time been installed by my friend's companion, I swallowed further objections, and attempted to appreciate the magnanimousness that had prompted this gesture, however unsolicited it may have been.
As it turned out, and which I discovered just a few minutes later, Mr. Fix-it had already paid for the stove on behalf of my landlady, his sister-in-law, and was having it installed as an addition to the apartment, with no expectation of being reimbursed. When I discovered this, I was, of course, consternated at the recollection of my very un-gracious behavior, and attempted to atone for it by thanking him kindly, and acknowledging in enthusiastic accents that it was indeed a remarkably good stove.
Apparently unconscious of my duplicity, he smiled pleasantly and promised to return soon to fix the leak under my sink.
At his departure, I tripped euphorically back into the kitchen, rapturously embraced my beautiful, very good stove, and immediately set about to scrambled myself some eggs. I don't, ordinarily, find that dish particularly appetizing, but I must say, I've never before tasted more delectable eggs. Even still, the thought of my new gas range fills me with ecstasy, and I wonder that I never before appreciated the beauty of that particular convenience, as I do now.

There's so much more to write of, but I need to get to bed, so it will have to wait.

Meanwhile, may God bless and keep each one of you, as He has me,
Elisabeth