Dear Friends,
Today was the first day of a three day soccer camp, with a total of fifty 4-6 grade boys, from different homes around Seoul. It’s a great deal of fun, but very energy demanding…needless to say. Jerusalem Ministries (through whom I volunteered at the Namsan Home) hosted this same camp last year, and both this year and last have been held during the height of monsoon season. And when I say monsoon, I mean really. I was out two days ago, and the deluge was so heavy that it drove right through my umbrella, and I came home soaked to the skin. Obviously this is bad timing for an outdoor sports camp. But it’s when the kids are out of school, so what can one do? Well, one can pray, and so we have. Last year the rain came down so heavily that it took down trees with it, and continued coming down until two hours before the camp commenced. Then it held up for three days, with beautiful weather. And two hours after camp closed down, on the last day, the rain began coming down in sheets again. Well, it’s the same story this year. It ought to have rained today, but instead it was beautiful and dry, with a thick cover of clouds to hide the blistering sun. I checked the weather report when I got home, and it said that rain had poured all day. Someone pointed out that, since God’s favor is with the fatherless, the projects that we undertake for them can hardly escape being blessed. I’m convinced.
A few people have asked me about the home I’m working at, so I thought I’d go into more detail for the curious. It’s actually not a home for orphans, so it would more technically be called a ‘children’s home’. Only about 5% of the kids are parentless. The rest are kids whose parents/relatives don’t want them or are unable to keep them. So the kids have a lot of fears and insecurities and rejection issues. It’s difficult for a lot of them to open up to people, because they’ve been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to love them the best. I’ve come to love them more deeply than I would have imagined possible in such a short time. When Jimin, a four year old little girl, buries her head in her arms and cries uncontrollably because she misses her dad, my heart breaks for her. When the girls show me pictures of their families, their parents and brothers and sisters, everything in me understands. And sometimes I think that maybe that’s why I’ve had to miss my own family so much…just so that I can understand these children and love them better.
There are a little over fifty kids here, divided into five dorms. There are two dorm parents to each dorm, and they take turns living at the home in stints of 24 hours each. They’re usually really busy, while they’re here, so it’s difficult for them to find the time or energy to give the kids the love and attention that they need. They’re often short tempered or really tired. The dorm mom in the dorm where I’m staying, with the older girls, is really sweet, and she really loves the kids. But it’s the same with her as it is with the others. Being mom to seven teenage girls is really challenging and exhausting. So I think it’s really nice for everyone that Ye-Kyung (the other volunteer) and I are here. We can take the kids out, and play with them, and help out where needed. I’m glad that I have the opportunity to work here this summer.
And after this…many of you already know that I’m looking for tickets to come home for a visit this fall. If all goes as planned, I should be flying in on the 7th. I can hardly wait to see you all!
Thank you for your prayers and thoughts.
With love,
Elisabeth
Monday, July 20, 2009
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Really Quick...
This is going to be really quick...probably. I would have written sooner, but the internet has been turned off all week, because the kids have to study for their finals. Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm doing sooo much better for having gotten that last email off my chest. Sometimes venting in one's native language can be remarkably therapeutic. ^^
So, yeah, it’s hard to live across the world from my family. It’s difficult not being able to speak the language fluently. I miss American food, and being able to find shoes that fit, and being able to cross the road when the light turns green, without looking both ways first. If I had known what it would be like, I think that I would not have chosen to be a missionary after all. But I know that someday this life, with all of its struggles and perplexities, will be over. Someday I will stand face to face with my beloved Jesus, and then...
Actually, my story is simply that God loves me. I wonder at His love. It’s almost as though He can’t bear to see me in trouble. It’s like He knows that I must experience difficulty to shape me, and because this is a fallen world. But it breaks His heart to watch my pain, so He cannot help but set aside the laws of nature, and pull me into His arms, and give me rest. There is such gentleness in His dealings with me. It absolutely blows me away. Sometimes I feel so deeply loved by Him and so extraordinarily well cared for, that I can’t help wondering if He loves me more than everyone else put together!
God has given me courage and joy. And, while I still feel inhibited, of course, by my un-fluency, I no longer feel the pressure that I did, and have been able to give that particular struggle to God. Thank you so much for your prayers!
Elisabeth
So, yeah, it’s hard to live across the world from my family. It’s difficult not being able to speak the language fluently. I miss American food, and being able to find shoes that fit, and being able to cross the road when the light turns green, without looking both ways first. If I had known what it would be like, I think that I would not have chosen to be a missionary after all. But I know that someday this life, with all of its struggles and perplexities, will be over. Someday I will stand face to face with my beloved Jesus, and then...
Actually, my story is simply that God loves me. I wonder at His love. It’s almost as though He can’t bear to see me in trouble. It’s like He knows that I must experience difficulty to shape me, and because this is a fallen world. But it breaks His heart to watch my pain, so He cannot help but set aside the laws of nature, and pull me into His arms, and give me rest. There is such gentleness in His dealings with me. It absolutely blows me away. Sometimes I feel so deeply loved by Him and so extraordinarily well cared for, that I can’t help wondering if He loves me more than everyone else put together!
God has given me courage and joy. And, while I still feel inhibited, of course, by my un-fluency, I no longer feel the pressure that I did, and have been able to give that particular struggle to God. Thank you so much for your prayers!
Elisabeth
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
A Quick Update
Dear Friends,
It has been a very full week and a half. I can hardly believe that that much time has already passed. This has been a good place to spend time. Living here is a far cry from living alone, as I have these last two years, and I’m enjoying the company of over fifty squirmy, laughing kids.
We’re kept to a pretty rigorous schedule here, though. Raising at 5:45. Breakfast of kimchee and rice. Teaching, walking kids to school, and watching babies in the morning. Just before a lunch of kimchee and rice, I usually manage to squeeze in a ten minute shower. If one can say ‘shower’ of crouching on the bathroom floor, and using a little scoop to pour water over oneself from a bucket. We have a little bit of free time in the afternoon, and after that more teaching. Then dinner of guess what. Yup, kimchee and rice. Bed time is around 10:30, at which time we roll out our thin mats on the linoleum floor, hang up our mosquito nets, and sleep like the dead until the morning sunlight streaming in the windows wakes us to another day.
It’s really not as bad as it sounds, though, when one has grown accustomed. I really enjoy being with the kids, so except for the language barrier (which still exists…will I ever be fluent?), spending time with them is more relaxing than it is stressful. And, aside from rising with the sun, I don’t mind having a rigid schedule. I think that it has helped me to adjust more quickly than I would have, had I been left to myself.
I get Friday evenings and Sundays off. I would probably stick around here and kick my feet up, if there was a place to do that. But the only places to sit are on small, plastic chairs, or the linoleum floor. So on Friday evenings I slip a book into my purse and hike (we live part way up a mountain) to a coffee shop. And on Sunday, after church, I take a bus to the house of a friend who’s gone all day, and crash on the couch.
The dorm where I’m living also houses eight high school girls and the dorm mom. I share a room with another summer volunteer, a Korean American girl named Ye-Kyung. She and I get along well, and have become friends very quickly. Perhaps that’s inevitable to two people thrust simultaneously into the same unfamiliar environment.
I have to take off to teach another class. But I’m glad that I got the time to fill you all in a little bit on where I am and what I’m doing. I hope to be able to write again soon. Meanwhile, all my love,
Elisabeth
It has been a very full week and a half. I can hardly believe that that much time has already passed. This has been a good place to spend time. Living here is a far cry from living alone, as I have these last two years, and I’m enjoying the company of over fifty squirmy, laughing kids.
We’re kept to a pretty rigorous schedule here, though. Raising at 5:45. Breakfast of kimchee and rice. Teaching, walking kids to school, and watching babies in the morning. Just before a lunch of kimchee and rice, I usually manage to squeeze in a ten minute shower. If one can say ‘shower’ of crouching on the bathroom floor, and using a little scoop to pour water over oneself from a bucket. We have a little bit of free time in the afternoon, and after that more teaching. Then dinner of guess what. Yup, kimchee and rice. Bed time is around 10:30, at which time we roll out our thin mats on the linoleum floor, hang up our mosquito nets, and sleep like the dead until the morning sunlight streaming in the windows wakes us to another day.
It’s really not as bad as it sounds, though, when one has grown accustomed. I really enjoy being with the kids, so except for the language barrier (which still exists…will I ever be fluent?), spending time with them is more relaxing than it is stressful. And, aside from rising with the sun, I don’t mind having a rigid schedule. I think that it has helped me to adjust more quickly than I would have, had I been left to myself.
I get Friday evenings and Sundays off. I would probably stick around here and kick my feet up, if there was a place to do that. But the only places to sit are on small, plastic chairs, or the linoleum floor. So on Friday evenings I slip a book into my purse and hike (we live part way up a mountain) to a coffee shop. And on Sunday, after church, I take a bus to the house of a friend who’s gone all day, and crash on the couch.
The dorm where I’m living also houses eight high school girls and the dorm mom. I share a room with another summer volunteer, a Korean American girl named Ye-Kyung. She and I get along well, and have become friends very quickly. Perhaps that’s inevitable to two people thrust simultaneously into the same unfamiliar environment.
I have to take off to teach another class. But I’m glad that I got the time to fill you all in a little bit on where I am and what I’m doing. I hope to be able to write again soon. Meanwhile, all my love,
Elisabeth
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
A Little Bit Discouraged
Hi Sisters,
It’s been a long day, and I can think of no one I’d rather spill my guts on than you. I’ve been feeling a little bit discouraged, lately.
It’s difficult still being so unable to speak in Korean. I feel like a two year old, most of the time. It’s unbelievable to me that I can have put so much effort and time into learning, and yet still feel like I’m back at the very beginning. Ye-Kyung has to translate for me way too often. And when she’s not around, my own communication is laborious and slow. I can’t even begin to tell you how discouraging that is for me. This morning I shut myself in my room and cried, because I feel like these last two years, and the sweat, and loneliness, and time have all been so pointless. I want so badly to be able to speak this language. I want so badly to be a generous, compassionate person. I want to connect with the kids here. I want to interact with the staff. I didn’t drag myself through two years of language school to be sitting here today, still unable to interact beyond the most surface level topics.
It’s okay, if God can use it. I really, really feel that with my whole heart. If God is excited about my non-Korean, and non-ministry, and non-strength, then so am I. But…then why did He ask me to come? Why has He taken so much away from me? Why has he asked me to give Him my family and my home and my language? Why do I have to eat kimchee and rice three times a day, and sleep on the floor, and use a bucket and scoop to shower? Why can’t I have my beautiful mountains, and stars, and river, and ocean? Why can’t I just have stayed home and gotten married and had two and a half kids? Why must all I have come from all that I love, to the farthest place from it on the face of the earth? Even this whole Mongolia idea is a little bit of a slap in the face. I feel adrift and disoriented and tired.
I think about Doss and Deb a lot. Maybe because there are so many kids around to remind me of them. It’s so hard to be missing them growing up. It’s hard not knowing when I’ll see them again, and feeling so disconnected from their lives. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much, and now I ask myself why? So that I could learn Korean? So that I could minister to people? So that I could help Enkoreans? I haven’t succeeded in any of that, and I can’t help feeling like I’ve absolutely failed. And in that failure, like I’ve given up every precious thing, in exchange for nothing. I think that I haven’t been so discouraged since coming to Korea.
It’s funny, even as I write the above, my heart begs God not to give up on me just yet. I want to work with Him in Asia. I want so much to be with Him where He is, among the sick and poor and hungry. But here I am, sloshing through the mud, because I can’t wrap my mind around this stupid language, and because I’m trapped on the outside of a country that holds the people that God and I love.
So here I am: tired, discouraged, and frustrated. Maybe a little bit angry. Maybe a little bit afraid. But wanting to let go of having to be successful, both in ministry and in the language. I don’t want to be holding on to either of those things like this. I know that the problem lies not with God, but in my heart. And God continues to be patient and to shape me. Funny, I know that that is what this is, right now. I know that I’m being pressed and shaped, and that God has a purpose. It’s not pleasant, but I can hold my head up and move forward when I know that God has a purpose.
Please be praying for me. It’s far too easy to think about going home and never again doing anything that I don’t want to do.
Thank you so much for the pictures that you’ve sent, too. I can’t tell you how much pleasure it brings me to be able to see familiar people and places!
I love you. And after all of the above: I’m doing okay, because God is good. Really good.
Me
It’s been a long day, and I can think of no one I’d rather spill my guts on than you. I’ve been feeling a little bit discouraged, lately.
It’s difficult still being so unable to speak in Korean. I feel like a two year old, most of the time. It’s unbelievable to me that I can have put so much effort and time into learning, and yet still feel like I’m back at the very beginning. Ye-Kyung has to translate for me way too often. And when she’s not around, my own communication is laborious and slow. I can’t even begin to tell you how discouraging that is for me. This morning I shut myself in my room and cried, because I feel like these last two years, and the sweat, and loneliness, and time have all been so pointless. I want so badly to be able to speak this language. I want so badly to be a generous, compassionate person. I want to connect with the kids here. I want to interact with the staff. I didn’t drag myself through two years of language school to be sitting here today, still unable to interact beyond the most surface level topics.
It’s okay, if God can use it. I really, really feel that with my whole heart. If God is excited about my non-Korean, and non-ministry, and non-strength, then so am I. But…then why did He ask me to come? Why has He taken so much away from me? Why has he asked me to give Him my family and my home and my language? Why do I have to eat kimchee and rice three times a day, and sleep on the floor, and use a bucket and scoop to shower? Why can’t I have my beautiful mountains, and stars, and river, and ocean? Why can’t I just have stayed home and gotten married and had two and a half kids? Why must all I have come from all that I love, to the farthest place from it on the face of the earth? Even this whole Mongolia idea is a little bit of a slap in the face. I feel adrift and disoriented and tired.
I think about Doss and Deb a lot. Maybe because there are so many kids around to remind me of them. It’s so hard to be missing them growing up. It’s hard not knowing when I’ll see them again, and feeling so disconnected from their lives. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much, and now I ask myself why? So that I could learn Korean? So that I could minister to people? So that I could help Enkoreans? I haven’t succeeded in any of that, and I can’t help feeling like I’ve absolutely failed. And in that failure, like I’ve given up every precious thing, in exchange for nothing. I think that I haven’t been so discouraged since coming to Korea.
It’s funny, even as I write the above, my heart begs God not to give up on me just yet. I want to work with Him in Asia. I want so much to be with Him where He is, among the sick and poor and hungry. But here I am, sloshing through the mud, because I can’t wrap my mind around this stupid language, and because I’m trapped on the outside of a country that holds the people that God and I love.
So here I am: tired, discouraged, and frustrated. Maybe a little bit angry. Maybe a little bit afraid. But wanting to let go of having to be successful, both in ministry and in the language. I don’t want to be holding on to either of those things like this. I know that the problem lies not with God, but in my heart. And God continues to be patient and to shape me. Funny, I know that that is what this is, right now. I know that I’m being pressed and shaped, and that God has a purpose. It’s not pleasant, but I can hold my head up and move forward when I know that God has a purpose.
Please be praying for me. It’s far too easy to think about going home and never again doing anything that I don’t want to do.
Thank you so much for the pictures that you’ve sent, too. I can’t tell you how much pleasure it brings me to be able to see familiar people and places!
I love you. And after all of the above: I’m doing okay, because God is good. Really good.
Me
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Back in South Korea
Dear Friends,
It's good to be back in South Korea!
My trip to China was a good one. I got some much needed rest, and had a lot of fun meeting new people, seeing new places and visiting with Titus and Ruth. For having been there a month, though, I really don't have a lot to say. The reason I went was just to get a break, and how much can one say about rest? It was fun to explore the neighborhood that I was in, and to go shopping, and to try out a veeeery little bit of Chinese with the taxi drivers.
Actually, having to play charades for a month made me really appreciate how much Korean I can speak. It's good to be back in a country where I understand most of what's going on around me, and know my way about, and can understand the culture.
I came directly from the airport, on Monday, to Namsan Childrens' Home, where I'll be living for the next two months. It's a busy place, with 50 plus kids running around. I'll be working with another volunteer over the summer, and our main responsibility will be English teaching (surprise!).
Since it's only been three days (and also, because I have to take off), I don't have that much to say. Hopefully next time I write, I'll have more news for you all. Mostly I just wanted to touch bases and let you all know that I'm still alive and doing well! Thank you for your prayers!
Elisabeth
It's good to be back in South Korea!
My trip to China was a good one. I got some much needed rest, and had a lot of fun meeting new people, seeing new places and visiting with Titus and Ruth. For having been there a month, though, I really don't have a lot to say. The reason I went was just to get a break, and how much can one say about rest? It was fun to explore the neighborhood that I was in, and to go shopping, and to try out a veeeery little bit of Chinese with the taxi drivers.
Actually, having to play charades for a month made me really appreciate how much Korean I can speak. It's good to be back in a country where I understand most of what's going on around me, and know my way about, and can understand the culture.
I came directly from the airport, on Monday, to Namsan Childrens' Home, where I'll be living for the next two months. It's a busy place, with 50 plus kids running around. I'll be working with another volunteer over the summer, and our main responsibility will be English teaching (surprise!).
Since it's only been three days (and also, because I have to take off), I don't have that much to say. Hopefully next time I write, I'll have more news for you all. Mostly I just wanted to touch bases and let you all know that I'm still alive and doing well! Thank you for your prayers!
Elisabeth
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Going to China!
Dear Friends,
I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to drop a line.
I completed the Korean language course, and graduated on Friday! That was so much more difficult that I had bargained for, and is a relief to have over and behind me!
I’m taking off for China in an hour and a half (which is why I don’t have much time here). I’ll be there for a month, visiting friends, and getting a much needed rest, and then I’ll be coming back to Korea. I hope to work in an orphanage here, this summer. It would be a great way to practically apply my newly acquired language skills.
I wish that I’d had time to write earlier, and make this a longer email, but these last two weeks have been crazy. Had my finals last week, and am leaving two days later. It’s not just packing for a visit to China that keeps me busy, though, but packing to move out of my house. Since I don’t know where I’ll be living when I get back, I got rid of all my things, save two suitcases and four small boxes. A friend is keeping what I can’t take to China. So moving house, taking finals, and packing to move to China have made it next to impossible to do much else.
I may not be able to check my email, while I’m in China. So if you write, and I don’t reply, that’s why. But I don’t mind returning to a full inbox! =)
Please keep me in your prayers.
God is very, very good…
Elisabeth
I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to drop a line.
I completed the Korean language course, and graduated on Friday! That was so much more difficult that I had bargained for, and is a relief to have over and behind me!
I’m taking off for China in an hour and a half (which is why I don’t have much time here). I’ll be there for a month, visiting friends, and getting a much needed rest, and then I’ll be coming back to Korea. I hope to work in an orphanage here, this summer. It would be a great way to practically apply my newly acquired language skills.
I wish that I’d had time to write earlier, and make this a longer email, but these last two weeks have been crazy. Had my finals last week, and am leaving two days later. It’s not just packing for a visit to China that keeps me busy, though, but packing to move out of my house. Since I don’t know where I’ll be living when I get back, I got rid of all my things, save two suitcases and four small boxes. A friend is keeping what I can’t take to China. So moving house, taking finals, and packing to move to China have made it next to impossible to do much else.
I may not be able to check my email, while I’m in China. So if you write, and I don’t reply, that’s why. But I don’t mind returning to a full inbox! =)
Please keep me in your prayers.
God is very, very good…
Elisabeth
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Being in Touch
Dear Family
I have run into a cultural issue that absolutely stumps me. This is a first. There have been cultural differences that have been difficult to adjust to, or that I’ve disagreed with, or that have confused me. But this one is absolutely incomprehensible.
In class we often read chapters of random books. On one particular day the chapter we read was a story, the main points of which may be summarized as follows:
Six or seven young business men enter a small restaurant, and order some drinks, side dishes, and their meals. “But,” they tell the waitress, “Don’t bring our meals out until we’ve finished our drinks.”
Five minutes pass, and in walk four middle-aged men. They sit and order their food, which the waitress promptly brings out. When the young business men see this, they’re thrown into a frenzied rage, throw their glasses down, and storm out of the restaurant.
I read this story again and again, and was more confused with each reading. I finally looked up at my teacher, and shook my head. So she explained,
“Well, the business men got there first, so the waitress shouldn’t have served the later customers, until they had their food.”
The relational hierarchies in this country are so rigid! How can it be an issue for a later customer to be served first, if the former customer wants to wait?!
I am utterly perplexed, and sometimes wonder if I’ll ever entirely understand the Korean mind.
I’ve been quite busy lately. Busy enough, in fact, that I didn’t have time to fully prepare for the twenty minute presentation in Korean, that I was to have given on Monday, until the day before. Sunday evening had been set aside and preserved for that very purpose. I got home from Church at four o’clock (English services in Korea are generally held in the afternoon), opened the window to let in the beautiful spring air, and sat down to apply myself. I can’t have been studying for more than five minutes, before two or three winged bugs began to distract me in a general sort of way. I turned around to squish them, and as I looked up from the computer, the most remarkable sight met my eyes. A sea of bugs (termites, as it turned out) was pouring out of my kitchen. It was a rampage - there is no other way to describe it. The walls and floor of my kitchen were coated black, and bugs seemed to be spilling out of every nook and corner. I shot out of my chair with a stifled exclamation, slammed every door in my house to keep the invasion at bay, and darted over to my landlady’s house, to share the news.
She listened calmly to my rather breathless declaration, and when I had finished, replied, “I’ll call someone to come by within the next day or two.”
I felt that my house would not be standing still, in a day or two, and might even be found to have been entirely devoured by morning, but she apparently didn’t share my opinion. And, as her Korean is better than mine, she won the argument.
“If you must, you can go down to the corner store and buy some bug spray.”
So down to the corner store I went, but they had nothing other than a fine stock of mosquito spray, which was, I’m quite sure, very superior mosquito spray in every way, but not at all applicable. Back home I ran, empty handed, with the rather vague notion, since there seemed to be no other option, of smashing all of the hundreds of thousands of termites by hand. I hoped that I had exaggerated the situation in my mind. My hopes were dashed.
Back to my landlady’s house. This time I resolved not to leave until she relented, if it meant that I had to camp out on her floor for a week. Fortunately my bluff was never called. Two young men (presumably her grandsons) were sitting with her, when I returned, and when I saw them I knew I was saved; Korean men live to rescue childishly helpless girls from absurdly simple straits.
“There are bugs in my house!” I breathlessly clasped my hands, and opened my eyes wide, “I’m afraid of bugs!”
The eagerness with which they instantly sprang to their feet showed me that I had played the right card. I could only be glad that there were plenty of bugs to go ‘round, else an altercation might have arisen as to who should be the privileged champion.
I lead them back to my house, preserving a flurried façade, and opened the door.
Together they stepped inside. Together they stopped in their tracks. Then together they dashed back out, slamming the door behind them. They stood for a horrified moment, staring at each other, then the elder ran turned on his heel, dashed down the street, as I had done not long before, to that convenient corner store, and came back with the mosquito spray. He grimly stripped off his coat, untied his tie, rolled up his sleeves, set his jaw, and marched back inside. I noticed that his companion was content, this time around, to be relieved of active combat duty, and was composing himself to form the cheering committee.
Our hero whipped two hefty cans from their holsters, held them out at arm’s length, took hasty aim, turned his head away, and squeezed the triggers, emptying both rounds of poison into the air at once. Then he took another can, and coated the floor…or would have, if the floor had been visible. I suppose it would be more appropriate to say that he coated the termites that coated the floor. He did the same in my living room and in my entryway, then ran back outside.
“Don’t go back into your house,” He warned me, “You don’t want to die, too.”
I expressed my hearty appreciation; the firing squad waved off my thanks with a magnanimous gesture; the cheering committee replied, ‘you’re welcome,’ in English, then turned pink at his own boldness; and we each went our separate ways.
I waited around the corner until they had both gone out of sight, then came back and unlocked the front door, held my breath and dashed inside. The house was filled with a thick, poisonous haze. I threw some things into my backpack and slipped my computer and school books into their bag, and then hurried back outside, and wondered what to do next. I ended up calling one of my friends, who called his cousin, and she graciously invited me to spend the night at her apartment.
Needless to say, I didn’t get much studying done that evening. In order to make up for lost time, I got up at 5:30 the next morning, and took a taxi home. When I stepped inside, I was greeted with good news and bad news. The good news was that the bugs were all dead. The bad news was that the mosquito spray was oil-based.
So long story short, I studied for a few hours, and managed to stumble through my presentation. As soon as I got back from school, I lay down for a quick nap, and then the rest of the day was spent scrubbing layers of half-disintegrated termites off my floor, washing all my dishes, and throwing away all of the food that had been exposed to the poison. It was unfortunate that I had gone shopping on the afternoon of the invasion.
At ten o’clock that evening I was finally done. When I sat back and thought about it from first to last, the humor of it all hit me, and if there had been anyone to share it with, I would have had a good laugh.
I will have someone to share my laughs with soon: Amy Horn is going to be visiting me for a week. Her flight gets in at 4:30 tomorrow morning. Titus and Ruth are also coming down to Seoul, and they’ll get here on Monday. It will be so pleasant to see my friends!
I’ve been reading Isaiah, and a few verses in chapter 48 really jumped out at me,
“For my name’s sake will I defer mine anger, and for my praise will I refrain for thee, that I cut thee not off…for mine own sake, even for mine own sake, will I do it.”
Somehow it is very reassuring to me that, much as God loves and blesses me for my sake, there is in Him that which will – outside of myself – remain faithful, for His own sake, through eternity. That is unshakeable.
I’m going to wrap this up, even though I really haven’t said anything of much importance. I really wanted to get an email out this week, but now that I actually have a few short moments do write, I find that I’m too tired to think of much to write about. I guess that’s okay. The main thing is being in touch, right? =)
God be with you,
Elisabeth
I have run into a cultural issue that absolutely stumps me. This is a first. There have been cultural differences that have been difficult to adjust to, or that I’ve disagreed with, or that have confused me. But this one is absolutely incomprehensible.
In class we often read chapters of random books. On one particular day the chapter we read was a story, the main points of which may be summarized as follows:
Six or seven young business men enter a small restaurant, and order some drinks, side dishes, and their meals. “But,” they tell the waitress, “Don’t bring our meals out until we’ve finished our drinks.”
Five minutes pass, and in walk four middle-aged men. They sit and order their food, which the waitress promptly brings out. When the young business men see this, they’re thrown into a frenzied rage, throw their glasses down, and storm out of the restaurant.
I read this story again and again, and was more confused with each reading. I finally looked up at my teacher, and shook my head. So she explained,
“Well, the business men got there first, so the waitress shouldn’t have served the later customers, until they had their food.”
The relational hierarchies in this country are so rigid! How can it be an issue for a later customer to be served first, if the former customer wants to wait?!
I am utterly perplexed, and sometimes wonder if I’ll ever entirely understand the Korean mind.
I’ve been quite busy lately. Busy enough, in fact, that I didn’t have time to fully prepare for the twenty minute presentation in Korean, that I was to have given on Monday, until the day before. Sunday evening had been set aside and preserved for that very purpose. I got home from Church at four o’clock (English services in Korea are generally held in the afternoon), opened the window to let in the beautiful spring air, and sat down to apply myself. I can’t have been studying for more than five minutes, before two or three winged bugs began to distract me in a general sort of way. I turned around to squish them, and as I looked up from the computer, the most remarkable sight met my eyes. A sea of bugs (termites, as it turned out) was pouring out of my kitchen. It was a rampage - there is no other way to describe it. The walls and floor of my kitchen were coated black, and bugs seemed to be spilling out of every nook and corner. I shot out of my chair with a stifled exclamation, slammed every door in my house to keep the invasion at bay, and darted over to my landlady’s house, to share the news.
She listened calmly to my rather breathless declaration, and when I had finished, replied, “I’ll call someone to come by within the next day or two.”
I felt that my house would not be standing still, in a day or two, and might even be found to have been entirely devoured by morning, but she apparently didn’t share my opinion. And, as her Korean is better than mine, she won the argument.
“If you must, you can go down to the corner store and buy some bug spray.”
So down to the corner store I went, but they had nothing other than a fine stock of mosquito spray, which was, I’m quite sure, very superior mosquito spray in every way, but not at all applicable. Back home I ran, empty handed, with the rather vague notion, since there seemed to be no other option, of smashing all of the hundreds of thousands of termites by hand. I hoped that I had exaggerated the situation in my mind. My hopes were dashed.
Back to my landlady’s house. This time I resolved not to leave until she relented, if it meant that I had to camp out on her floor for a week. Fortunately my bluff was never called. Two young men (presumably her grandsons) were sitting with her, when I returned, and when I saw them I knew I was saved; Korean men live to rescue childishly helpless girls from absurdly simple straits.
“There are bugs in my house!” I breathlessly clasped my hands, and opened my eyes wide, “I’m afraid of bugs!”
The eagerness with which they instantly sprang to their feet showed me that I had played the right card. I could only be glad that there were plenty of bugs to go ‘round, else an altercation might have arisen as to who should be the privileged champion.
I lead them back to my house, preserving a flurried façade, and opened the door.
Together they stepped inside. Together they stopped in their tracks. Then together they dashed back out, slamming the door behind them. They stood for a horrified moment, staring at each other, then the elder ran turned on his heel, dashed down the street, as I had done not long before, to that convenient corner store, and came back with the mosquito spray. He grimly stripped off his coat, untied his tie, rolled up his sleeves, set his jaw, and marched back inside. I noticed that his companion was content, this time around, to be relieved of active combat duty, and was composing himself to form the cheering committee.
Our hero whipped two hefty cans from their holsters, held them out at arm’s length, took hasty aim, turned his head away, and squeezed the triggers, emptying both rounds of poison into the air at once. Then he took another can, and coated the floor…or would have, if the floor had been visible. I suppose it would be more appropriate to say that he coated the termites that coated the floor. He did the same in my living room and in my entryway, then ran back outside.
“Don’t go back into your house,” He warned me, “You don’t want to die, too.”
I expressed my hearty appreciation; the firing squad waved off my thanks with a magnanimous gesture; the cheering committee replied, ‘you’re welcome,’ in English, then turned pink at his own boldness; and we each went our separate ways.
I waited around the corner until they had both gone out of sight, then came back and unlocked the front door, held my breath and dashed inside. The house was filled with a thick, poisonous haze. I threw some things into my backpack and slipped my computer and school books into their bag, and then hurried back outside, and wondered what to do next. I ended up calling one of my friends, who called his cousin, and she graciously invited me to spend the night at her apartment.
Needless to say, I didn’t get much studying done that evening. In order to make up for lost time, I got up at 5:30 the next morning, and took a taxi home. When I stepped inside, I was greeted with good news and bad news. The good news was that the bugs were all dead. The bad news was that the mosquito spray was oil-based.
So long story short, I studied for a few hours, and managed to stumble through my presentation. As soon as I got back from school, I lay down for a quick nap, and then the rest of the day was spent scrubbing layers of half-disintegrated termites off my floor, washing all my dishes, and throwing away all of the food that had been exposed to the poison. It was unfortunate that I had gone shopping on the afternoon of the invasion.
At ten o’clock that evening I was finally done. When I sat back and thought about it from first to last, the humor of it all hit me, and if there had been anyone to share it with, I would have had a good laugh.
I will have someone to share my laughs with soon: Amy Horn is going to be visiting me for a week. Her flight gets in at 4:30 tomorrow morning. Titus and Ruth are also coming down to Seoul, and they’ll get here on Monday. It will be so pleasant to see my friends!
I’ve been reading Isaiah, and a few verses in chapter 48 really jumped out at me,
“For my name’s sake will I defer mine anger, and for my praise will I refrain for thee, that I cut thee not off…for mine own sake, even for mine own sake, will I do it.”
Somehow it is very reassuring to me that, much as God loves and blesses me for my sake, there is in Him that which will – outside of myself – remain faithful, for His own sake, through eternity. That is unshakeable.
I’m going to wrap this up, even though I really haven’t said anything of much importance. I really wanted to get an email out this week, but now that I actually have a few short moments do write, I find that I’m too tired to think of much to write about. I guess that’s okay. The main thing is being in touch, right? =)
God be with you,
Elisabeth
Thursday, March 26, 2009
God is Good
Dear Friends,
I just closed my books, and stretched. I have a few minutes now, and will try to pull my thoughts together enough to write an update with some semblance of chronology and coherency. We shall see.
As you know, my sister left three days ago. It was refreshing to be able to bounce my thoughts and ideas off of her, and I was very glad for the excuse to be able to push some of my normal activities to the back burner and take a breather. It was such pleasant, relaxed month! By contrast, I always feel something like a rudderless boat after a visitor leaves: little bit disconnected, unfocused, and generally feeling like I wouldn’t be any worse off for a good shake or a splash of cold water. It will pass. It always does. In a week or two, I’ll feel normal again (whatever that may be). Meanwhile, I try to keep busy so that I don’t have too much thinking time.
And it’s not difficult to find things to keep busy with. My teacher from the last semester, Ms. Oh, is writing an ‘introduction to Korean’ book for Western beginners. Her English is not really that good, so I’m not sure why she’s the one writing it. But, be that as it may, she needs a lot of help correcting and proof reading. So she gives me her papers, I cover them with red, and then we get together for coffee or lunch, and discuss the corrections I’ve made. In return, she has offered to help tutor me. I haven’t yet taken her up on the offer, though. She’s a sweet lady, but her teaching style drives me nuts.
On Wednesday afternoons I go next door to visit with my landlady for an hour or so. She’s an elderly woman, so she doesn’t get out much, and enjoys the company. She’s also a Jehovah’s Witness, and has taken it upon herself, personally, to convert me. We first began studying the Bible/JW tracts together while I was in level 2, and she charged along at such a rate that I understood, generously, one word in ten. In those long ago days I consoled myself with the memory of how Naaman was pardoned for inadvertently bowing with his master in the temple of Rimmon, and was quite sure that God would be equally gracious to me if I inadvertently agreed to some heresy. But I can no longer be so easily let off the hook. I understand about ninety percent of the dialogue (or monologue, to be more accurate). It makes for more interesting conversation, but yesterday we got to the part where she explained to me that Jesus is merely a created being, and no deity. I can listen quietly to her beliefs of who the 144,000 are, and of where heaven is or isn’t located, but I could not, of course, let her think that I agree with her understanding of Christ. With all my heart, I was hoping the subject would never be brought up, because it would place me in such a culturally sticky situation. I’m not supposed to contradict my elders, you see. Particularly not a woman of her age. I’m not even supposed to let on that I think differently, because that would indicate that I consider my thoughts better than hers, which would reek of egotistic individualism, not to mention disrespect. My teacher once told me that the import of submission to one’s superior is so strong that Korean children are scolded when they come up with more clever ideas than their parents, even when those ideas, so far from contradicting, are in line with the adults’ thoughts. So I was in something of a pickle, trying to think how to be respectful without agreeing with that which I could not. I managed to muddle through, though I was never given enough space to explain my beliefs. Every time I began, “Yes, I can understand that, but…” she would cut me off, with “If you understand, how can you say ‘but’?” and then take her explanation back to the very beginning and go at it again. It didn’t really bother me not to be able to tell her why I think as I do, but I can become a bit mulish and ruffled when another’s ideas are shoved down my throat in such a manner, so several times I had to remind myself that the miscommunication lay not with her, but at the door of our cultural differences. She was patient with me, albeit rather excited and upset. All things end, though, and so did this. We’ll probably hash it out from the beginning all over again next week.
School wraps up in two months. Unbelievable. I do look forward to being done! I’ve applied to volunteer at an orphanage over the summer, and am hoping that I’m accepted. I need the opportunity to practice Korean in an everyday setting, but aside from that, I think it will be really good for me to invest my time and energy into something other than the language and (vicariously) myself. I hope to hear back from them by the end of this month.
Thank you all so much for the gifts that you sent with Naomi! They blessed me very much, and made me miss you all the more. But it was a good sort of missing; rather more fond than wistful. I really appreciate the amazing friendships that God has blessed me with! He is good…and I’ve just decided that that’s the only un-random thing about my life.
Fondly,
Elisabeth
I just closed my books, and stretched. I have a few minutes now, and will try to pull my thoughts together enough to write an update with some semblance of chronology and coherency. We shall see.
As you know, my sister left three days ago. It was refreshing to be able to bounce my thoughts and ideas off of her, and I was very glad for the excuse to be able to push some of my normal activities to the back burner and take a breather. It was such pleasant, relaxed month! By contrast, I always feel something like a rudderless boat after a visitor leaves: little bit disconnected, unfocused, and generally feeling like I wouldn’t be any worse off for a good shake or a splash of cold water. It will pass. It always does. In a week or two, I’ll feel normal again (whatever that may be). Meanwhile, I try to keep busy so that I don’t have too much thinking time.
And it’s not difficult to find things to keep busy with. My teacher from the last semester, Ms. Oh, is writing an ‘introduction to Korean’ book for Western beginners. Her English is not really that good, so I’m not sure why she’s the one writing it. But, be that as it may, she needs a lot of help correcting and proof reading. So she gives me her papers, I cover them with red, and then we get together for coffee or lunch, and discuss the corrections I’ve made. In return, she has offered to help tutor me. I haven’t yet taken her up on the offer, though. She’s a sweet lady, but her teaching style drives me nuts.
On Wednesday afternoons I go next door to visit with my landlady for an hour or so. She’s an elderly woman, so she doesn’t get out much, and enjoys the company. She’s also a Jehovah’s Witness, and has taken it upon herself, personally, to convert me. We first began studying the Bible/JW tracts together while I was in level 2, and she charged along at such a rate that I understood, generously, one word in ten. In those long ago days I consoled myself with the memory of how Naaman was pardoned for inadvertently bowing with his master in the temple of Rimmon, and was quite sure that God would be equally gracious to me if I inadvertently agreed to some heresy. But I can no longer be so easily let off the hook. I understand about ninety percent of the dialogue (or monologue, to be more accurate). It makes for more interesting conversation, but yesterday we got to the part where she explained to me that Jesus is merely a created being, and no deity. I can listen quietly to her beliefs of who the 144,000 are, and of where heaven is or isn’t located, but I could not, of course, let her think that I agree with her understanding of Christ. With all my heart, I was hoping the subject would never be brought up, because it would place me in such a culturally sticky situation. I’m not supposed to contradict my elders, you see. Particularly not a woman of her age. I’m not even supposed to let on that I think differently, because that would indicate that I consider my thoughts better than hers, which would reek of egotistic individualism, not to mention disrespect. My teacher once told me that the import of submission to one’s superior is so strong that Korean children are scolded when they come up with more clever ideas than their parents, even when those ideas, so far from contradicting, are in line with the adults’ thoughts. So I was in something of a pickle, trying to think how to be respectful without agreeing with that which I could not. I managed to muddle through, though I was never given enough space to explain my beliefs. Every time I began, “Yes, I can understand that, but…” she would cut me off, with “If you understand, how can you say ‘but’?” and then take her explanation back to the very beginning and go at it again. It didn’t really bother me not to be able to tell her why I think as I do, but I can become a bit mulish and ruffled when another’s ideas are shoved down my throat in such a manner, so several times I had to remind myself that the miscommunication lay not with her, but at the door of our cultural differences. She was patient with me, albeit rather excited and upset. All things end, though, and so did this. We’ll probably hash it out from the beginning all over again next week.
School wraps up in two months. Unbelievable. I do look forward to being done! I’ve applied to volunteer at an orphanage over the summer, and am hoping that I’m accepted. I need the opportunity to practice Korean in an everyday setting, but aside from that, I think it will be really good for me to invest my time and energy into something other than the language and (vicariously) myself. I hope to hear back from them by the end of this month.
Thank you all so much for the gifts that you sent with Naomi! They blessed me very much, and made me miss you all the more. But it was a good sort of missing; rather more fond than wistful. I really appreciate the amazing friendships that God has blessed me with! He is good…and I’ve just decided that that’s the only un-random thing about my life.
Fondly,
Elisabeth
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Three Years Well Spent
Dear Family,
It’s such a pleasure to have a quiet moment to say hello. I feel like I haven’t written for quite a while…certainly it seems longer than just a month ago.
Three days ago Naomi arrived. It’s so pleasant to have someone to talk to and be with! I’m looking forward to showing her my world. I’m also looking forward to a breather. Some of you know what uphill work this last semester has been for me, in so many ways. These last two weeks, particularly, have been remarkably difficult, as level five bowelled toward an end. But the grueling effort was not wasted: I found out yesterday not only that I passed level five, but also that I aced all my tests. Now that it’s over I feel exhausted, relieved and satisfied. And grateful. God has been faithful, once again.
We studied ‘titles’ in class, just recently. By ‘titles’, I mean the English equivalent of Father, Aunt, Sister, etc. It’s important to know these titles, because Koreans, like Westerners, would never call their parents or grandparents by their given names. But Koreans take it a step further. They call every person they’re related to by a title, which really serves in place of the word ‘you’. This wouldn’t be so bad if aunts and uncles were just aunts and uncles, and nothing more. In English it doesn’t matter that the aunt is my dad’s sister, as opposed to my mom’s sister. She’s still an aunt. But not so in Korea. Here there are different titles, not only for maternal and paternal aunts and uncles, but also for how old they are in relation to your parents, and whether or not they joined the family by marriage.
And, speaking of in-laws, you should understand that one’s older brother’s wife is called by a different title from one’s younger brother’s wife (similarly with brothers-in-law, depending upon the age of the sister), and each are changed again depending upon the sex of the one addressing that unfortunate woman. Every person in a family tree is called by a different title from every other person, depending on where they stand in age or by marriage.
Why stop there, though? If some is good, more is better, right? One’s older friend’s girlfriend is called something different from one’s younger friend’s girlfriend, and (again) this depends upon the sex of the speaker. In the office, each person has his own title, according to rank, and according to whether one is speaking of the individual or to the individual. At the grocery store I’m ‘Sonim,’ at school I’m ‘Haksang,’ to a stranger I’m ‘Agashi,’ and to a friend I’m ‘Onni.’ There’s a title for everyone and everything, and I hope that my Korean fish isn’t offended that I call him by nothing but his name.
Of course, the poor foreigner, who is hopelessly mixed up in such cases, may always revert to the ambiguous ‘you.’ That’s a different ‘you,’ needless to say, according to whether the ‘you’ is a lover, a close friend, someone who deserves a scold, or someone with whom one wants to pick a fight (ironically, the same ‘you’ as the lover’s ‘you’).
So, why am I telling you all this? Because the conclusion makes me laugh:
With my blue eyes and light (relatively) hair, I rather stand out at school. And my school name, Lisa, is easy for people to remember. As a result, a lot of people from other class rooms know who I am, so when we meet in the hall, they bow and greet me,
‘Is Lisa passing time well?’
I nod, and would like to reply in kind, but in nine cases out of ten I’ve no idea what the person’s name is. So I reply,
‘Yes. I’m sorry, though, I’ve forgotten your name.’
But there are so many people, and with such odd names (from all over the world), that no matter how many times I’m told a person’s name, I can’t seem to remember it. And one can only say ‘I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten again…’ so many times. I draw the line at four. After that it begins to sound rude.
Of course, rather than replying ‘Yes, and how about Whangshi?’, I could always just ask, ‘and how about you?’ At least, it seems to me that I should be able to. Surely there must be a ‘you’ with which one addresses an acquaintance. But, of all the odd twists of language, there’s not. How can there be a title for every person and relationship under the sun, save one with which to address the man to whom I’m speaking?!
I asked a Korean friend, and after giving it several moments of very serious thought, he concluded, ‘The best method, is just to memorize all their names.’
Help.
I wanted to write about a few more things, but this email has already taken a week or so to compile. A few sentences here, and a paragraph there, as I get time. I think that now, with Naomi here, if I put it off any longer, it will become outdated before it ever gets sent. The thought I would like to end on is that it occurred to me a few days ago that, if nothing more will have been accomplished by my three years residence in Korea than that I should have learned to trust and love my God, it will have been a three years well spent.
God is good,
Elisabeth
It’s such a pleasure to have a quiet moment to say hello. I feel like I haven’t written for quite a while…certainly it seems longer than just a month ago.
Three days ago Naomi arrived. It’s so pleasant to have someone to talk to and be with! I’m looking forward to showing her my world. I’m also looking forward to a breather. Some of you know what uphill work this last semester has been for me, in so many ways. These last two weeks, particularly, have been remarkably difficult, as level five bowelled toward an end. But the grueling effort was not wasted: I found out yesterday not only that I passed level five, but also that I aced all my tests. Now that it’s over I feel exhausted, relieved and satisfied. And grateful. God has been faithful, once again.
We studied ‘titles’ in class, just recently. By ‘titles’, I mean the English equivalent of Father, Aunt, Sister, etc. It’s important to know these titles, because Koreans, like Westerners, would never call their parents or grandparents by their given names. But Koreans take it a step further. They call every person they’re related to by a title, which really serves in place of the word ‘you’. This wouldn’t be so bad if aunts and uncles were just aunts and uncles, and nothing more. In English it doesn’t matter that the aunt is my dad’s sister, as opposed to my mom’s sister. She’s still an aunt. But not so in Korea. Here there are different titles, not only for maternal and paternal aunts and uncles, but also for how old they are in relation to your parents, and whether or not they joined the family by marriage.
And, speaking of in-laws, you should understand that one’s older brother’s wife is called by a different title from one’s younger brother’s wife (similarly with brothers-in-law, depending upon the age of the sister), and each are changed again depending upon the sex of the one addressing that unfortunate woman. Every person in a family tree is called by a different title from every other person, depending on where they stand in age or by marriage.
Why stop there, though? If some is good, more is better, right? One’s older friend’s girlfriend is called something different from one’s younger friend’s girlfriend, and (again) this depends upon the sex of the speaker. In the office, each person has his own title, according to rank, and according to whether one is speaking of the individual or to the individual. At the grocery store I’m ‘Sonim,’ at school I’m ‘Haksang,’ to a stranger I’m ‘Agashi,’ and to a friend I’m ‘Onni.’ There’s a title for everyone and everything, and I hope that my Korean fish isn’t offended that I call him by nothing but his name.
Of course, the poor foreigner, who is hopelessly mixed up in such cases, may always revert to the ambiguous ‘you.’ That’s a different ‘you,’ needless to say, according to whether the ‘you’ is a lover, a close friend, someone who deserves a scold, or someone with whom one wants to pick a fight (ironically, the same ‘you’ as the lover’s ‘you’).
So, why am I telling you all this? Because the conclusion makes me laugh:
With my blue eyes and light (relatively) hair, I rather stand out at school. And my school name, Lisa, is easy for people to remember. As a result, a lot of people from other class rooms know who I am, so when we meet in the hall, they bow and greet me,
‘Is Lisa passing time well?’
I nod, and would like to reply in kind, but in nine cases out of ten I’ve no idea what the person’s name is. So I reply,
‘Yes. I’m sorry, though, I’ve forgotten your name.’
But there are so many people, and with such odd names (from all over the world), that no matter how many times I’m told a person’s name, I can’t seem to remember it. And one can only say ‘I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten again…’ so many times. I draw the line at four. After that it begins to sound rude.
Of course, rather than replying ‘Yes, and how about Whangshi?’, I could always just ask, ‘and how about you?’ At least, it seems to me that I should be able to. Surely there must be a ‘you’ with which one addresses an acquaintance. But, of all the odd twists of language, there’s not. How can there be a title for every person and relationship under the sun, save one with which to address the man to whom I’m speaking?!
I asked a Korean friend, and after giving it several moments of very serious thought, he concluded, ‘The best method, is just to memorize all their names.’
Help.
I wanted to write about a few more things, but this email has already taken a week or so to compile. A few sentences here, and a paragraph there, as I get time. I think that now, with Naomi here, if I put it off any longer, it will become outdated before it ever gets sent. The thought I would like to end on is that it occurred to me a few days ago that, if nothing more will have been accomplished by my three years residence in Korea than that I should have learned to trust and love my God, it will have been a three years well spent.
God is good,
Elisabeth
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Hello, Family!
Dear Family,
I feel like I should have a lot to write about, because this month and last have been very full. But I really can’t think of much that’s new, so this email will probably be quite short. Mostly I just want to keep in touch, and to ask for your continued prayers.
As you know, Sarah has come and gone. We had a really amazing time together, and split our sides laughing at everything and nothing. It’s so pleasant to have someone to laugh unrestrainedly with. She had her wisdom teeth pulled while she was here, so we spent a lot of time at the dentist, and laid low the first week. But after that, my Christmas break began, and we explored Seoul together. It was great fun, and I think that I’m experiencing a little bit of Post Company Syndrome, now that she’s gone. Having another person around made the house twice and small cluttered, but proportionately cozy and warm. Being alone again is rather bleak.
I got really sick, right after Sarah left. It seemed like every cold I’ve ever had was pummeling me all at once. I had a pretty high fever, and couldn’t eat for four days, on top of debilitating congestion and headache. One the second day I couldn’t lie down, so I propped myself up against my headboard. And since my toes were the only part of my body that didn’t hurt, I made myself think about them and how nice they felt, until I fell asleep. I slept for the entire day, except for about three hours in the afternoon, and that felt so very nice! The next day I went to school, because I was out of sick days, and I won’t be able to renew my visa if I absent any more this semester. That was Friday. I did nothing over the weekend, and by Monday was back to feeling more like my normal self.
The next day, Tuesday, was midterms. The listening test was pretty difficult. Listening comprehension is easy enough, as are reading and writing. But when one has to listen to the text, read the questions, and write the answers all at the same time, the language tends to rather run away with itself. But even though I got a terrible grade, I did far better than I had thought. The other tests, reading, writing and grammar, weren’t too bad, and I’ll find out how I did on them on Monday.
The only other things worth mentioning are the fact that it snowed yesterday, a beautiful, clean, white snow. The feathery flakes danced, and I wanted to dance with them, but I was uncomfortably aware of people’s eyes curiously watching the odd foreigner. Holding my hands out to catch the flakes, with my head uncovered, was enough of a spectacle. Everyone else was scurrying hither and fro, huddled under umbrellas. It puzzles me every year. How can people be so busy as to be oblivious to, and even hide from, the beautiful ways in which God participates in our lives?
My other random note is that I just cracked the last egg, of a flat of a dozen, and ten of them were double yoked. What are the odds?
With Love,
Elisabeth
I feel like I should have a lot to write about, because this month and last have been very full. But I really can’t think of much that’s new, so this email will probably be quite short. Mostly I just want to keep in touch, and to ask for your continued prayers.
As you know, Sarah has come and gone. We had a really amazing time together, and split our sides laughing at everything and nothing. It’s so pleasant to have someone to laugh unrestrainedly with. She had her wisdom teeth pulled while she was here, so we spent a lot of time at the dentist, and laid low the first week. But after that, my Christmas break began, and we explored Seoul together. It was great fun, and I think that I’m experiencing a little bit of Post Company Syndrome, now that she’s gone. Having another person around made the house twice and small cluttered, but proportionately cozy and warm. Being alone again is rather bleak.
I got really sick, right after Sarah left. It seemed like every cold I’ve ever had was pummeling me all at once. I had a pretty high fever, and couldn’t eat for four days, on top of debilitating congestion and headache. One the second day I couldn’t lie down, so I propped myself up against my headboard. And since my toes were the only part of my body that didn’t hurt, I made myself think about them and how nice they felt, until I fell asleep. I slept for the entire day, except for about three hours in the afternoon, and that felt so very nice! The next day I went to school, because I was out of sick days, and I won’t be able to renew my visa if I absent any more this semester. That was Friday. I did nothing over the weekend, and by Monday was back to feeling more like my normal self.
The next day, Tuesday, was midterms. The listening test was pretty difficult. Listening comprehension is easy enough, as are reading and writing. But when one has to listen to the text, read the questions, and write the answers all at the same time, the language tends to rather run away with itself. But even though I got a terrible grade, I did far better than I had thought. The other tests, reading, writing and grammar, weren’t too bad, and I’ll find out how I did on them on Monday.
The only other things worth mentioning are the fact that it snowed yesterday, a beautiful, clean, white snow. The feathery flakes danced, and I wanted to dance with them, but I was uncomfortably aware of people’s eyes curiously watching the odd foreigner. Holding my hands out to catch the flakes, with my head uncovered, was enough of a spectacle. Everyone else was scurrying hither and fro, huddled under umbrellas. It puzzles me every year. How can people be so busy as to be oblivious to, and even hide from, the beautiful ways in which God participates in our lives?
My other random note is that I just cracked the last egg, of a flat of a dozen, and ten of them were double yoked. What are the odds?
With Love,
Elisabeth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
