My classes have either been canceled or shortened today so that the students can receive the latest round of government mandated H1N1 inoculations. I can't understand what all the paranoia is about. Between the anti-viral masks, bottles of hand sanitizer (which the students love to spray in each others faces), and the mandatory temperature checks I'm beginning to think it's getting excessive. Poor kids might as well be walking around in Hazmat suits. I have yet to see a student exhibiting flu symptoms. And even if they were showing signs just give them some chicken soup, a few days of bed rest, and a comic book. It worked for Mom. It can work for Korea.
Regardless of why my schedule has been shortened I'm left with a lot of extra time to kill in the office and I'm getting sick of surfing Facebook or Youtube. Sounds like perfect conditions to write a new blog entry. With that in mind I'd like to go into a little more detail about my Thanksgiving weekend and discuss a phenomenon that I like to call Spontaneous Korea Awareness.
My last blog entry sucked...I know. With only a few hours left I wanted to get one final entry in for the month of November and in a lucid state of mind I thought a witty poem about my chronic turkey relapse would be kinda funny. I took a moment to re-read what I wrote during the late hours of November 30th and as it turns out I am neither witty nor funny. I would like to apologize to the 183 hits (yes I count) on my blog since then for such an unsatisfactory read. That said, here's what I really feel about Thanksgiving.
It's important to understand just how much I love turkey. For me, eating turkey is right up there with driving another person's car really fast or smoking an expensive cigar. Back home we have this place called Capriotti's which serves a sandwich called The Bobby. It's basically a hoagie roll with mayonnaise, turkey, cranberry sauce, and stuffing. Hmmm...I'm getting aroused just thinking about it. When last Thursday rolled around it was difficult not to imagine that moist, golden bird sitting on the table surrounded by pies, casseroles, string beans, and biscuits. I love seeing every part of my family during the holidays but Thanksgiving dinner at Aunt Tina's was always a favorite. Playing football in the backyard before the sun goes down. The banquet laid out on the pool table. Trying not to trip over the pack of nieces and nephews whose names I've just about given up trying to remember. It's strange to think that I was once one of those little kids gunning around the basement on fruit punch, weaving under tables and tackling my brothers on the wrestling mat. When the football game comes on the family is already well into the desserts and it wouldn't be unusual to end up in the tool shed, sipping whiskey and trading stories with the men. Good times. Good times indeed.
I have to admit that I was feeling a little homesick, remminiscing on all those good times as I choked down the school's octopus soup and kimchi, knowing that the only thing I could think of to be thankful for that day was the 2lb bag of frozen mondu in my freezer. Just as I was about to put an end to my despair on the nearest subway tracks, redemtion came in the form of a Facebook message from MB informing me that there was a full-blown Thanksgiving dinner in Bundang. I didn't have to be told twice. Stuffing my face with fellow English speakers was exactly what I had been hoping for and the spread at Mia's house far exceeded my expectations. Mac-n-Cheese, mashed potatoes, stuffing, more pumpkin pie than 28 people could even begin to eat, and of course...the turkey. Thick, grey chunks of moist, dark meat and sinewy slices of white. It was heaven on a paper plate. As I enjoyed the evening with a multi-national crew of new and old friends alike it occured to me how blessed I am to have such wonderful people and such a wondeful country in my life. I think that on this Thanksgiving I genuinely had more to be thankful for than on any previous year.
The remainder of my weekend was also more than outstanding but enough about me. I'd love to tell you about my buddy Josh from the mystical land of Seattle. If you're ever feeling out of sorts or beginning to question the nonsensical descisions you may have made in life, Josh always manages to say the thing you absolutely need to hear with such irrefutable logic it will leave you awestruck and devoid of reposte. Josh is also a writer and unlike the dribble I manage to churn out on a weekly basis, Josh's writing is actually good. On the bus back from Bundang I had an oppurtunity to read some of Josh's fiction and find it compelling. I'd love to post some of it here if the man agrees. It will blow your mind. Josh can also cook the best hamburger/sweet potatoe fries I've ever tasted, taught me how to love a woman and scold a child, will run circles around you in basketball, and can often be seen jogging down the block with a refridgerator on his back. Here's to you Josh.
That brings us to the ever increasing phenomena that I like to call Spontaneous Korea Awareness or S.K.A. After eight months in the Land of the Morning Calm a sense of the ordinary begins to envelope your daily activities. The people, language, and surroundings become accepted and sometimes monotonous parts of life that you find yourself taking for granted. Just another day at the office as they say. But it is during these moments of everyday tedium that you will suddenly be struck by S.K.A., the symptoms of which include an intense awakening to reality while verbally declaring, "Holy Sh#t I'm in Korea!" I like to equate the sensation of S.K.A. to the sudden impact of a giant wave after hours floating in a tranquil body of water. The following are a few scenarios in which I've personally experienced the onset of Spontaneous Korea Awareness:
1.) Conducting vulgar conversations on a bus or subway while being fully aware that no one understands you.
2.) Seeing middle age women start fighting people on the street and not finding it strange.
3.) Drinking beer in public places.
4.) Having a full meal in a tent on the sidewalk at 5am.
5.) Not being surprised to discover that a person's daily commuter is a fork lift and watching them parallel park it.
6.) Observing middle age women fight over who gets to recycle the cardboard in my trash.
7.) Watching dogs run down the street and being able to discern which are pets and which are food.
8.) Strolling through neon lit alleys early in the morning, proud that you can finally read all the signs...even if you don't know what they mean.
9.) Fake blind people and snake-oil salesmen on the subways.
10.) Having a rare turkey dinner with charming individuals from various places around the world.
Cool Thing About Korea #40: Discovering who you are and what you're made of.
