I hate maraschino cherries.

I mean to send some pictures soon, so that you can perhaps begin to visualize that which I write about. A picture is, after all, worth a thousand words (which statement I disagree with, by the way).

Yesterday evening I attended the English service at Every Nation Church, which Titus had told me of. It was only a fifteen minute bus ride from where I live, which fact I didn't appreciate until I learned that some of the other attendees travel for two hours, from the other side of Seoul, to get there. It was a little bit of a walk, under the blistering sun, from the bus station to the church. "How are you?" I was asked upon entering the building. "Quite warm," I replied without thinking. I introduced myself, and was introduced to several people, then we took our seats. As the music began, I found myself relaxing until I almost wanted to cry with relief. It was so indescribably refreshing to worship again as I'm used to, in my own language. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it. We visited for almost two hours after the service, and when I finally left for home it was with many invitations to return. I certainly will.

The Korean church that I obligatorily attend in the early afternoon holds less elation for me, but is a good opportunity to talk, in a relaxed setting, with those with whom I work. We gather round for Scripture reading, communion and singing – often Christmas carols, which makes me smile. Then we eat lunch and chat in small groups together for an hour or so. I now have a Korean-English Bible, so I can follow along with the reading. I try to sing the hymns in Korean, too, though I don't get much out of them that way. Two o'clock usually finds me on my way back home, either walking through the market or hitching a ride with the Dubes, which I do often.

I've been making it a point to eat regularly. Usually when I'm on my own, I just snack on whatever, and don't really bother to cook. But I remember Naomi's charge, "Elisabeth please eat well!" and attempt to appease this memory. Breakfast is light, dinner is heavy, and lunch I usually eat with a hundred or so other employees, on the 8th floor of SCG: Kimchee (which is growing more, rather than less, distasteful with time), rice, soup, and meat (usually cooked). As a general rule, I enjoy lunch here. Occasionally I find it revolting to the point of hilarity. One day, as I made my way down the lunch line, I was pleased to see a fruit salad. I smiled in pleasant anticipation. Most fruit salads are mixed with a delicious fruit dressing and nuts; this was no exception. Peaches, pear, apple, and squid...huh?!

Today, as I walked through the market, I saw a flash of bright red and suddenly found myself craving maraschino cherries. I laughed, and promptly dismissed the notion: I hate maraschino cherries.