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