Advancements

Day 62

Sneaking sentences of new books between classes, I finish the day.

Day 63

Post-yoga coffee leads to lunch.
"It's delicious soup, I just won't tell you what's in it, okay?"
"Um...okay." I'm pretty sure we're going to eat intestine or liver soup.
We walk into a restaurant near my home and are seated by the owner, who seems quite amused at my presence.
"Smells like liver! Right?"
I sniff the air and the 6 year old inside me screams "OH NO!!!" recalling a chicken liver and okra episode. "Right."
My friend orders and says something to the owner, gestures to her own body, then looks at me. "I was asking him...what part exactly is this soup? Becaauuussseee I don't know how to say it." This is a surprising statement, as her English is better than perhaps anyone else I've met.
"Intenstine?" I ask, "Liver? Small intestine? Gall Bladder? Stomach?..." Each guess earns a tilt of the head, this way or that and something between a smile and a grimace.
"No, that's not it. It's good, anyway. I promise you'll like it."
Broth boils in hot pots as the owner brings our soups to the table. The meat is very dark and it looks as if there are sections of a deep purple sausage amid green onions and spice.
"It's vegetable," she says. Are you kidding me? Why is it so dark? "Yeah, you know, the sweet potato noodles and vegetable stuffed inside the uh...intestines." I'm not sure I totally believe her, but I will tell myself I do. (Some internet searching later adds blood to the recipe.)
"western sausage is intestine stuffed with meat and spices," I reason. When the soup cools a bit, I nearly finish the bowl and she is laughing.
"You love it!" Maybe love is a bit strong, but I do like the soup and it is a meal I can have alone, although I'm not sure I will. It's a possibility.

As I walk home after work, I pass the orange vendor. He smiles and walks me over to the Odeng vendor by the elbow. He gestures toward the skewered fish cakes in their broth and walks away. An old man next to me asks, "Where are you from?" I point to myself and reply "Meegook. America."
"Soju!" he says, and I nod. "Odeng!" he says, and I select a skewer. "Odeng, Japan. OMMAK, Korea," He corrects himself. We sort of chat as the vendor insists I stay close to the warm cart. I watch as he pours batter from a teapot into fish-shaped cast iron molds, adds red-bean paste, and pours more batter on top before closing the lid, flipping the fish over, and rotating to the next empty one.
People are starting to crowd around the vendor and his warm food. He is laughing, filled with happiness from soju and good business. I hear the Hagwon mentioned and a woman looks at me as she says "Oh! My son!" I smile and nod at her.
"It's snowing" I say to the old man beside me. "AHH! Ahh, Chung Noon. First snow. C H U N G - N U U N." "Chung noon," I repeat his words. I nod and finish my soju, allowing a woman with a baby strapped onto her back nearer to the cart. The vendor catches my eye and hands me a red-bean fish as I leave to continue my walk home.

Day 64

Attempt at new technology: denied

Attempt at learning Hangul numbering systems: limited access

There are so many ways to say a number in Hangul it baffles my mind. There are numbers for mathematics, which apply to money. Numbers for counting objects, numbers for counting in general, different numbers for telling time. Perhaps I will understand in time.

work work work

Day 65

Going downtown to buy a new cell phone leads to a walk, which leads to the market, which leads to an herb man, and then to the library, which leads to a library card. Leaving the library, I stop to buy sweet potato for lunch and head to the Hagwon. Students notice my new phone. "Oh! Beautiful!" They open the phone to hear the sounds it will make. "BEEeeautiful! Good phone, Candida, Oh, SKY." They give each other nods of affirmation. Great, I'm glad they like it. I prefer it to the other, but I can't really figure out how to do anything with it. Eventually. Maybe. Maybe not.