Dear X,
I wish I could say I've been writing letters to you during my time away. That would be romantic. But I haven't. I haven't been logging my daily adventures to share with you at a later date, and yes, after nearly 9 months, the adventures are still daily.
I have climbed in mountian mists to later fall in the rain and see frogs at the mountaintop. Jirisan* feels like mothering arms according to any Korean. Weeks of teaching through the golden hour are capped by hikes and train rides. Posing in Seoul Station with a grand piano, my protests pushed aside, "But, Mr. Hong-o-Bong, I DON'T PLAY PIANO" went hand in hand with shouts of "This is PHILADELPHIA! ACTION! ACTION!" subway rides and pigeons in a Temple's Main Hall. And phone calls. "CANDIDA! THIS is Mr. HONGOBONG! HONGOBONG! MR. HONGOBONG! I have Great Idea for you!" phone calls, in which my name has gradually morphed: PAGAN! PAGANICAN! PELICAN! I have GREAT IDEA for YOU!
Opposite weekends on the opposite side of the country are spent in taxis, at japanese resturaunts, and on mountainsides. There is a tiny dog, Yoko, who digs in my hair when she can't find my face, and her owner, who is wonderful. I gave my first tattoo. It's an eye. It floats between a dragonhead and a cloud. Completely sober, he dropped his pants on the street to show it to a friend. "Candida! It's okay! It's only me."
Back home, I have become a regular at the makkoli place, where I go mostly for the 두부 김치 (tofu with kimchi) and company. It seems that they smile at 3 or 4, get nervous at 5 or 6, and stressed at 7 or 8 of us waegooks communaly bemoaning our fate at landing in Gimcheon. Bemoaning isn't quite accurate. It is delightful in many ways. My Busan friend delights in calling me a "Country Girl".
I'm not sure how much time is left here. It was requested that I stay another month. At the time I was unsure. As of late, I am prone to accept the offer. We'll see. Waves of friend-sickness still hit hard. I have dreams of drinking coffee and playing cards on my grandmother's porch with her and my mother in the afternoon. We'll see.
I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you are.
xo
Candida
*Jirisan = Jiri Mountain
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I Un-Quit
Day 240
I take back the "I must leave within a month" notice that I had given my boss. Actually, the conversation I have with her is "I would like to finish my contract, if that is still possible."
The conversation she has with me is more like "will you stay longer than your contract? Maybe not? Okay, will you come back?"
We conclude that I will be here until September, perhaps October, then I run off to join Owen and Lindsay, a couple of my English-speaking companions, at the Hof. We somehow join forces with 5 or 6 Koreans and change booths, then establishments. A woman in the group is my fitness center buddy. There is much enthusiasm about meeting the next evening for pocketball.
Highlights from Days 241-246
Rain prohibits monster hike.
I am a recipient of fine dining, some wining, and gangster phone for 2 months.
A pit-stop in an outdoor market under black netting and colorful awnings, the likes of which I hadn't seen - grains, vegetables, live seafoods, meat. All usual, but there is something special about this one.
A moderate hike including:
a full creekside dinner which emerges from backpacks Mary Poppins style.
a detour through a bamboo stand to a small waterfall and pool where the ladies take off their shoes and wade while most of the men go for a full dip.
The arrival of a beautiful letter, perhaps from the highest post office in Asia, has the other teachers asking why I'm so happy all day.
The purchase of a practice amp and mic cord will probably drive my neighbors crazy, but make me very happy. I try to keep polite hours - generally sound happens from 10am-12pm.
My missing phone and ID card return to me after approximately 2 weeks. How? Who knows. It's Korea. In any case, I am ecstatic.
Sun Young's prediction of changing luck comes true. There is more rain and new flowering trees constantly come into season.
** Forecast Fox is currently telling me that Friday will be a Sunny -999 °F
I take back the "I must leave within a month" notice that I had given my boss. Actually, the conversation I have with her is "I would like to finish my contract, if that is still possible."
The conversation she has with me is more like "will you stay longer than your contract? Maybe not? Okay, will you come back?"
We conclude that I will be here until September, perhaps October, then I run off to join Owen and Lindsay, a couple of my English-speaking companions, at the Hof. We somehow join forces with 5 or 6 Koreans and change booths, then establishments. A woman in the group is my fitness center buddy. There is much enthusiasm about meeting the next evening for pocketball.
Highlights from Days 241-246
Rain prohibits monster hike.
I am a recipient of fine dining, some wining, and gangster phone for 2 months.
A pit-stop in an outdoor market under black netting and colorful awnings, the likes of which I hadn't seen - grains, vegetables, live seafoods, meat. All usual, but there is something special about this one.
A moderate hike including:
a full creekside dinner which emerges from backpacks Mary Poppins style.
a detour through a bamboo stand to a small waterfall and pool where the ladies take off their shoes and wade while most of the men go for a full dip.
The arrival of a beautiful letter, perhaps from the highest post office in Asia, has the other teachers asking why I'm so happy all day.
The purchase of a practice amp and mic cord will probably drive my neighbors crazy, but make me very happy. I try to keep polite hours - generally sound happens from 10am-12pm.
My missing phone and ID card return to me after approximately 2 weeks. How? Who knows. It's Korea. In any case, I am ecstatic.
Sun Young's prediction of changing luck comes true. There is more rain and new flowering trees constantly come into season.
** Forecast Fox is currently telling me that Friday will be a Sunny -999 °F
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
One Month to the Day
What's the news? well, let me think...
- Paik Nam June Gallery in Yonggi-do provides a revitalizing music/art experience. Bulgasari at Yogiga Gallery in Hongdae, Seoul, sustains the revival for an extra day.
- Costco pesto makes me sick and quesadillas are all I eat for a week after a visit to Seoul.
- A new crowd of foreigners move into Gimcheon and we invade the Bowling Alley for an evening meet'n'greet.
- Buddha's birthday rolls around and with it come colorful lanterns, free bibimbap from temple volunteers, and a stroll through lovely Jikji-sa.
- Books arrive from the states and are devoured by me.
- The refrigerator noise continues to grow louder by the night.
- A bicycle some might have considered semi-abandoned is stolen. (I didn't consider it abandoned. I thought it could take care of itself.)
- I join a gym and flail around to K-pop with very coordinated middle aged women.
- A long weekend leads to the loss of several important items and a trip to Busan, a port city on the southeast coast of the Korean peninsula.
- The daily evaluation of pros and cons of breaking contract and leaving early begins to get pretty weighty in the pro-go column.
- A return trip to Busan, a search and rescue attempt on my foreigner ID, is a failure in one respect and a total win in the "random adventure" category.
THE RANDOM ADVENTURE (in short)
After failing to obtain my ID from the hotel I'm sure I left it at, I go to the beach for people watching and evening sun. I also happen to find 3 Korean rasta-reggaes spinning records on the walkway. I seat myself near them to observe and listen...a kitemaker is showcasing his wares with a tiny dot in the sky.
- I befriend the reggaes
- I am offered a new phone in exchange for English lessons. Let's call it "gangster phone"
- I go hiking with and am dubbed girlfriend by a tattoo artist and his friends.
- I have an interesting night out with Koreans...kind of the first time for a Korean night-on-the-town.
BACK TO REALITY...
- I give my boss a month's notice...she asks for two.
- I consider taking back the notice and staying for the duration of my contract after a major issue to be dealt with turns out to be virtually unsolvable, regardless of the country I'm in.
That brings us up to date. Basically. Stay? Go? Any input? Lately I've been feeling that my life is a series of short stories that have no common link aside from the fact that I'm a central character. Korea has pushed these stories further into the realm of surreality than I'd forseen. Someday, Someday maybe you'll read them.
- Paik Nam June Gallery in Yonggi-do provides a revitalizing music/art experience. Bulgasari at Yogiga Gallery in Hongdae, Seoul, sustains the revival for an extra day.
- Costco pesto makes me sick and quesadillas are all I eat for a week after a visit to Seoul.
- A new crowd of foreigners move into Gimcheon and we invade the Bowling Alley for an evening meet'n'greet.
- Buddha's birthday rolls around and with it come colorful lanterns, free bibimbap from temple volunteers, and a stroll through lovely Jikji-sa.
- Books arrive from the states and are devoured by me.
- The refrigerator noise continues to grow louder by the night.
- A bicycle some might have considered semi-abandoned is stolen. (I didn't consider it abandoned. I thought it could take care of itself.)
- I join a gym and flail around to K-pop with very coordinated middle aged women.
- A long weekend leads to the loss of several important items and a trip to Busan, a port city on the southeast coast of the Korean peninsula.
- The daily evaluation of pros and cons of breaking contract and leaving early begins to get pretty weighty in the pro-go column.
- A return trip to Busan, a search and rescue attempt on my foreigner ID, is a failure in one respect and a total win in the "random adventure" category.
THE RANDOM ADVENTURE (in short)
After failing to obtain my ID from the hotel I'm sure I left it at, I go to the beach for people watching and evening sun. I also happen to find 3 Korean rasta-reggaes spinning records on the walkway. I seat myself near them to observe and listen...a kitemaker is showcasing his wares with a tiny dot in the sky.
- I befriend the reggaes
- I am offered a new phone in exchange for English lessons. Let's call it "gangster phone"
- I go hiking with and am dubbed girlfriend by a tattoo artist and his friends.
- I have an interesting night out with Koreans...kind of the first time for a Korean night-on-the-town.
BACK TO REALITY...
- I give my boss a month's notice...she asks for two.
- I consider taking back the notice and staying for the duration of my contract after a major issue to be dealt with turns out to be virtually unsolvable, regardless of the country I'm in.
That brings us up to date. Basically. Stay? Go? Any input? Lately I've been feeling that my life is a series of short stories that have no common link aside from the fact that I'm a central character. Korea has pushed these stories further into the realm of surreality than I'd forseen. Someday, Someday maybe you'll read them.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Spring Sprang Sprung
Day 208
Jikji spring. Yellow bushes line the walks, pink spots on rocks, cherry blossoms have fallen. They are replaced by picnickers on the lovely spring day.
Post morning, A visit to the campus of Gimcheon College provides the sight of a miserable monkey family in a 20 foot jungle-gym cage. Papa's a little aggro, but who can blame him? Next up on the sad sights tour is the Deer Pen. 4 deer lay in the shade of sheds within their 30 foot cage. The trees are sheathed in metal...perhaps to prevent antler sharpening by the raging buck? Who knows. Handstand practice happens near the pond while Myeong Hee ponders the present.
On an afternoon walk through town, I meet 5 new foreigners and am accompanied by another. Gimcheon has recently become home to... 12 new people? Perhaps more. This occurance has changed my outlook for the spring. A positive outlook requires less determination than it has in the past month.
During dinner, I am surprised by arms around my waist and turn to discover an ajuma covering my bared back with an apron. Perhaps a longer shirt would've prevented this, but it was certainly entertaining.
Home to special tea and scrabble. Recalling the sweetness in tiny bites of lilac as a child, I collect some from the bush outside. The flowers change from...well, lilac, to pale gray. The taste is faintly bitter. I add rosemary to create a rather medicinal tasting nightcap.
Day 207
Walking from home to the station. Riding from the station to the station. Walking from the station to class. This all happens.
Walking from class to the subway. Riding from the stop to the terminal. Riding from the terminal to the temple. This also happens.
Walking from the bus stop to temple site. Hearing massive chanting. Seeing chains of lotus lanterns. Walking 108 steps up. Seeing masses of people walking a maze while carrying replicas of the woodblocks housed at Haeinsa on their heads. This happens.
Wandering. Being invited into line. Having my arm taken by a woman whose mastery of English rivals my mastery of Korean. Walking past the Tripitaka Koreana. Peeking through slatted windows large enough to call walls. Accepting a plastic replica of a woodblock from youthful monks. Supressing a laugh as monks supress looks of surprise. This all happens.
Walking the maze single file. Completing and exiting the maze. Being guided to the temple cafeteria. Walking arm in arm to the parking lot. Getting in the couple's car, which happens to be a taxi. Riding in the taxi from temple to town. Subway to station. Station to station. This finally happens.
Finally back in Gimcheon 14 hours later, I meet up with a woman who has recently arrived. The night is filled with cathartic chatting first at one Hof with brick pattern wallpaper, then at another with walls that could've passed for a High School locker door.
Jikji spring. Yellow bushes line the walks, pink spots on rocks, cherry blossoms have fallen. They are replaced by picnickers on the lovely spring day.
Post morning, A visit to the campus of Gimcheon College provides the sight of a miserable monkey family in a 20 foot jungle-gym cage. Papa's a little aggro, but who can blame him? Next up on the sad sights tour is the Deer Pen. 4 deer lay in the shade of sheds within their 30 foot cage. The trees are sheathed in metal...perhaps to prevent antler sharpening by the raging buck? Who knows. Handstand practice happens near the pond while Myeong Hee ponders the present.
On an afternoon walk through town, I meet 5 new foreigners and am accompanied by another. Gimcheon has recently become home to... 12 new people? Perhaps more. This occurance has changed my outlook for the spring. A positive outlook requires less determination than it has in the past month.
During dinner, I am surprised by arms around my waist and turn to discover an ajuma covering my bared back with an apron. Perhaps a longer shirt would've prevented this, but it was certainly entertaining.
Home to special tea and scrabble. Recalling the sweetness in tiny bites of lilac as a child, I collect some from the bush outside. The flowers change from...well, lilac, to pale gray. The taste is faintly bitter. I add rosemary to create a rather medicinal tasting nightcap.
Day 207
Walking from home to the station. Riding from the station to the station. Walking from the station to class. This all happens.
Walking from class to the subway. Riding from the stop to the terminal. Riding from the terminal to the temple. This also happens.
Walking from the bus stop to temple site. Hearing massive chanting. Seeing chains of lotus lanterns. Walking 108 steps up. Seeing masses of people walking a maze while carrying replicas of the woodblocks housed at Haeinsa on their heads. This happens.
Wandering. Being invited into line. Having my arm taken by a woman whose mastery of English rivals my mastery of Korean. Walking past the Tripitaka Koreana. Peeking through slatted windows large enough to call walls. Accepting a plastic replica of a woodblock from youthful monks. Supressing a laugh as monks supress looks of surprise. This all happens.
Walking the maze single file. Completing and exiting the maze. Being guided to the temple cafeteria. Walking arm in arm to the parking lot. Getting in the couple's car, which happens to be a taxi. Riding in the taxi from temple to town. Subway to station. Station to station. This finally happens.
Finally back in Gimcheon 14 hours later, I meet up with a woman who has recently arrived. The night is filled with cathartic chatting first at one Hof with brick pattern wallpaper, then at another with walls that could've passed for a High School locker door.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
. . . and on, and on . . .
Day 197
Flashback to Christmas Eve: I'm sitting at a table with kimchi pancakes, moccoli (traditional rice wine) I don't need to drink, and a co-worker, and a friend. We've already had more soju than I anticipated and I'm not too excited about the moccoli. I excuse myself to go stand outside for fresh air, and when I come back, there is a red-faced man in a shiny pin-striped suit, smiling, nodding, smelling strongly of cologne, and pouring moccoli into my bowl.
"I saw you and, you know, I just want to speak Eng-uh-lish with you, you know? Is that okay, I blah will blah not blah take blah a blah hint..."
Young Mi and I exchange "who the hell is this guy??" looks, and simultaneously raise eyebrows at Ted, who has invited him to sit down, assuming that the man knew Young Mi. He stays with us for quite a while. I think of him as "Bluster Man"
Flash forward three months: shiny pin-striped suit man Bluster Man is sitting at the desk across from me. He is the new teacher at the Hagwon. Now we will be talking alllll the time.
Day 200
After Korean class in Daegu, I invite my friend to the Kitty Cafe. With a fennec fox in the window, grown cats lazing about, and siamese kittens playing 'round our feet, we sip banana shakes and eat lunch.
Follow this with hunting for strange parks filled with cherry blossoms, wandering the herbal medicine market on a slow day to find stuffed fanged deer cousins in windows near an albino mongoose fighting an albino snake, and there's my day, basically.
Plus the fox thing in glasses...
and a very convincing rice-cake octopus.
In the evening, another friend serves as my guide on the bus to the University district. We meander the campus amid blossoming trees of varying sorts, and sit at a park bench. It's amazing how familiar the smell of the Student Union cafeteria is. We finally complete a full circle of the campus. The final building we pass is called "Useful Building". It is spelled in a brick pattern on the side.
Day 201
I spend much of the afternoon harvesting wild mugwort from the bank of a lake outside of town. The sun is out, and a kind breeze keeps us insect-free. There aren't many, but I've noticed that they're coming. Oh, they're coming.
This week's reading has been (in order of appearance): The Red Dragon, The Exorcist, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Not my first choices. In fact, I've been avoiding reading the first two all year, but my options in English literature are severely limited. Donations of the published kind are happily accepted.
Flashback to Christmas Eve: I'm sitting at a table with kimchi pancakes, moccoli (traditional rice wine) I don't need to drink, and a co-worker, and a friend. We've already had more soju than I anticipated and I'm not too excited about the moccoli. I excuse myself to go stand outside for fresh air, and when I come back, there is a red-faced man in a shiny pin-striped suit, smiling, nodding, smelling strongly of cologne, and pouring moccoli into my bowl.
"I saw you and, you know, I just want to speak Eng-uh-lish with you, you know? Is that okay, I blah will blah not blah take blah a blah hint..."
Young Mi and I exchange "who the hell is this guy??" looks, and simultaneously raise eyebrows at Ted, who has invited him to sit down, assuming that the man knew Young Mi. He stays with us for quite a while. I think of him as "Bluster Man"
Flash forward three months: shiny pin-striped suit man Bluster Man is sitting at the desk across from me. He is the new teacher at the Hagwon. Now we will be talking alllll the time.
Day 200
After Korean class in Daegu, I invite my friend to the Kitty Cafe. With a fennec fox in the window, grown cats lazing about, and siamese kittens playing 'round our feet, we sip banana shakes and eat lunch.
Follow this with hunting for strange parks filled with cherry blossoms, wandering the herbal medicine market on a slow day to find stuffed fanged deer cousins in windows near an albino mongoose fighting an albino snake, and there's my day, basically.
Plus the fox thing in glasses...
and a very convincing rice-cake octopus.
In the evening, another friend serves as my guide on the bus to the University district. We meander the campus amid blossoming trees of varying sorts, and sit at a park bench. It's amazing how familiar the smell of the Student Union cafeteria is. We finally complete a full circle of the campus. The final building we pass is called "Useful Building". It is spelled in a brick pattern on the side.
Day 201
I spend much of the afternoon harvesting wild mugwort from the bank of a lake outside of town. The sun is out, and a kind breeze keeps us insect-free. There aren't many, but I've noticed that they're coming. Oh, they're coming.
This week's reading has been (in order of appearance): The Red Dragon, The Exorcist, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Not my first choices. In fact, I've been avoiding reading the first two all year, but my options in English literature are severely limited. Donations of the published kind are happily accepted.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Like a Thundering Herd
Day 196
5 military helicopters in a low fly-by wrest my attention from Cidade de Deus.
Cherry trees are blossoming, I'm keeping to myself.
I teach at the Hagwon.
Things are okay.
One Hour Later
The shadows of four more helicopters pass over my persimmon tree. Did you know that persimmon trees produce magnolia-like flowers? The helicopters sound like giant swarms of bees.
5 military helicopters in a low fly-by wrest my attention from Cidade de Deus.
Cherry trees are blossoming, I'm keeping to myself.
I teach at the Hagwon.
Things are okay.
One Hour Later
The shadows of four more helicopters pass over my persimmon tree. Did you know that persimmon trees produce magnolia-like flowers? The helicopters sound like giant swarms of bees.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Whiling the Time
Days 162-173
There is a consistent feeling of waking from one dream into another; one surreality into the next. On top of that, actual dreams are more vivid and memorable than ever. Why, just last night I held my favorite giant purple chicken, with glowing mink fur in lieu of feathers, on my lap in our old neighbor's climbing tree. We talked for hours while friends dressed as characters from Robin Hood gathered at a party hosted by my grandparents.
On my third day back to Korea, I am released from work after two hours. With my unexpected afternoon, a trip to the city seems in order.
Upon reaching the train station, I am nearly an hour early for the local train to Daegu. I buy my ticket and wait outside in the sun, watching a throng of older men take turns tossing four sticks, one side rounded, the other flat. Occasionally they argue, and pass around W1,000 bills. At one point the argument gets so heated that one man turns in a huff, takes his bike and walks away. After cajoling and jeering, he heads back to the circle to place his W1,000 bet once more.
The time to leave arrives and I become lost in thought on the way to Daegu. I vaguely recall a mental note on something about a sub-commentary to self on internal monologue. Something about experiencing life as a constant narration. Who knows? Whether I'm narrating to myself or to others, narration is happening, right? Within us all, right? What? OH. I'm in Daegu already. Time to meander.
These seem to be the days where one may say "...and she lived her life quietly and contentedly among the foreign world of which she was now a part," or some such drivel. The once healthy drive to write even a sentence for every day has diminished markedly. There are many possible reasons for this.
I have a renewed interest in NPR and pancakes. My Sunday home activity is: waking early to make pancakes and brown sugar simple syrup, and some coffee, while listening to NPR. My weekend away, well, that is something different altogether, but there seems to be a Westernized theme.
Saturday morning, I wake early to head for Daegu once again. This time with a purpose other than aimless wandering: Korean lessons with other foreigners at the YMCA. That's right. The YMCA has outreach even in Daegu, South Korea. 91 years of it, to be exact.
I struggle to pronounce 만나사 반가우ㅓ요 (mahn-ah-saw ban-ga-wuh-yo (i.e., nice to meet you)), while my classmate struggles to unwrap a triangle gimbap.
Afterward, I meet familiar Gumi-ites for a stroll around town with a stop at a virtual roller coaster and an introduction to a restaurant with genuine Western breakfast at 2pm and an un-sugared Bloody Mary.
Sunday, post-pancake, I go to Gumi, a nearby city, to deliver a keyboard and see a movie. The Watchmen,
"An adaptation of Alan Moore's landmark comic book series, Watchmen is a story set in an alternative 1985, where the world is ticking closer to the brink of nuclear war, and a plot to eliminate a band of ex-crimefighters is instigated, but why? and by whom?..."
turns out to be just under three hours long. An uncommon opportunity for Scrabble presents itself post-movie, and I spend two more hours in good company, involved in movie discussion, swapping jokes, and racking up a pretty high losing score at my favorite board game. Ween knew gnu knew no new pundits for pun times. Oh, Scrabble!
Day 174
Finally, the 백만 Won that the bank lost in transfer shows up in the right place. Whew! A sigh of relief for that one! A new week begins today.
There is a consistent feeling of waking from one dream into another; one surreality into the next. On top of that, actual dreams are more vivid and memorable than ever. Why, just last night I held my favorite giant purple chicken, with glowing mink fur in lieu of feathers, on my lap in our old neighbor's climbing tree. We talked for hours while friends dressed as characters from Robin Hood gathered at a party hosted by my grandparents.
On my third day back to Korea, I am released from work after two hours. With my unexpected afternoon, a trip to the city seems in order.
Upon reaching the train station, I am nearly an hour early for the local train to Daegu. I buy my ticket and wait outside in the sun, watching a throng of older men take turns tossing four sticks, one side rounded, the other flat. Occasionally they argue, and pass around W1,000 bills. At one point the argument gets so heated that one man turns in a huff, takes his bike and walks away. After cajoling and jeering, he heads back to the circle to place his W1,000 bet once more.
The time to leave arrives and I become lost in thought on the way to Daegu. I vaguely recall a mental note on something about a sub-commentary to self on internal monologue. Something about experiencing life as a constant narration. Who knows? Whether I'm narrating to myself or to others, narration is happening, right? Within us all, right? What? OH. I'm in Daegu already. Time to meander.
These seem to be the days where one may say "...and she lived her life quietly and contentedly among the foreign world of which she was now a part," or some such drivel. The once healthy drive to write even a sentence for every day has diminished markedly. There are many possible reasons for this.
I have a renewed interest in NPR and pancakes. My Sunday home activity is: waking early to make pancakes and brown sugar simple syrup, and some coffee, while listening to NPR. My weekend away, well, that is something different altogether, but there seems to be a Westernized theme.
Saturday morning, I wake early to head for Daegu once again. This time with a purpose other than aimless wandering: Korean lessons with other foreigners at the YMCA. That's right. The YMCA has outreach even in Daegu, South Korea. 91 years of it, to be exact.
I struggle to pronounce 만나사 반가우ㅓ요 (mahn-ah-saw ban-ga-wuh-yo (i.e., nice to meet you)), while my classmate struggles to unwrap a triangle gimbap.
Afterward, I meet familiar Gumi-ites for a stroll around town with a stop at a virtual roller coaster and an introduction to a restaurant with genuine Western breakfast at 2pm and an un-sugared Bloody Mary.
Sunday, post-pancake, I go to Gumi, a nearby city, to deliver a keyboard and see a movie. The Watchmen,
"An adaptation of Alan Moore's landmark comic book series, Watchmen is a story set in an alternative 1985, where the world is ticking closer to the brink of nuclear war, and a plot to eliminate a band of ex-crimefighters is instigated, but why? and by whom?..."
turns out to be just under three hours long. An uncommon opportunity for Scrabble presents itself post-movie, and I spend two more hours in good company, involved in movie discussion, swapping jokes, and racking up a pretty high losing score at my favorite board game. Ween knew gnu knew no new pundits for pun times. Oh, Scrabble!
Day 174
Finally, the 백만 Won that the bank lost in transfer shows up in the right place. Whew! A sigh of relief for that one! A new week begins today.
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