Week 10

Monday

Two of my students came to school with the chicken pox. I insisted that their mothers be called, and that they should come pick them up immediately. But the mothers would not let them miss a day of school. How f****d up is Korea, that kids who are highly contagious with fevers and bumps on them are not allowed to stay home from pre-school?! They are 5 years old, they should stay at home. It is not like the mothers of these children have to work and so they cannot take care of them. These are the richest families, with mothers who do not work. Why are these children at school?

Tuesday

It was Children's Day in Korea. This is a large holiday where there is no school. Families spend the whole day together at Parks all over. Children receive gifts (mostly school related, though there may be a few fun things too).

I have the day off work and I spend about three hours reading my book, after many attempts to solicit some friends to hang out, I give it up as a bad job and strike out alone on another “get-lost-on-purpose” walk. I guide my way only by my intuition and am glad that I find so many beautiful areas. I discover a what must be a mile long covered market. I buy a cute shirt for $8 from a bargain clothing seller. They have masses of clothing to dig through.

When walking home I again followed my intuition, hoping to get home easily enough that I could find the market again sometime. I only made one single turn in a 1.5 mile distance and Ta-Da! I found myself at Bucheon park.

At Bucheon Park there were children everywhere! Flying kites, holding balloons, riding bicycles, wobbling on roller blades, crawling into the tall grass looking for critters, and playing in the fountains.

That night I went to City Hall Park (right across the street from Bucheon Park) with Melinda and we had a picnic of spaghetti and Southern sweet tea (she's from Florida). We talked pretty much the whole time there was a poorly executed outdoor play being performed. The sound quality was so bad that I had to cover my ears when the mikes feedback became too much. But after that play another performance came on—it was a singer (more like a Korean crooner) who schmoozed his way through about three songs with backup dancers attempting the most out-of-style coordinated dance moves. There were smoke machines and blasts of fire into the sky at irregular intervals.

The most enjoyable part of the nights events, however, was unexpectedly what would normally be the most boring part at home: all of the officials who put the Children's Day events together (men in business suits) got on stage to say their thanks. Then they did a silly little kind of line dance on stage to Bucheon's theme song, and did a conga line around the park area where the whole crowd arose and joined dancing around the chairs. I don't know what the words were to the song, but I made up some of my own because the song was so lively and joyful:
“Come everyone to Bucheon,
We're all gonna meet in Bucheon
So come everyone to Bucheon
Bucheon is the place where
We're all going to meet there . . . . ”

Friday

Melinda, Katie, Mike, Kristina, and I went to dinner at an Indian restaurant near the Bucheon subway station. The atmosphere was great, with comfortable booths that felt more like couches, and colored tapestries all over the walls. The servers were really nice and the food was excellent. I should probably say the food was more than excellent. I have never had Indian food this good before. There were Bollywood musicals playing on TV screens which were very enjoyable to watch, though they were somewhat silly compared to the American film aesthetic. We were having so much fun, we hardly noticed the time, til Melinda pointed out that it was after 11 PM and that we should let the employees go home. Hearing the beautiful music in that restaurant reminded me of my long term dream/goal of studying vocal music in Kerala (the Southernmost tip of India) at a cultural center I discovered during my Internet searches 6 years ago! I have thought of going there after Korea, or perhaps between contracts on my severance bonus and some savings.

After dinner we met up with Jennifer, Abby and her mom (who was visiting from California) at RnB, where Mike kicked my butt so bad at darts I felt a little ashamed of myself. Our game was interrupted throughout by the others asking for a try on the dart board. If they hit the vicinity of the board at all they cheered, totally unaware of how to play the game.

Saturday

I did my usual coffee shop thing in the morning then went with the girls (Katie, Jennifer, Abby, Kristina, and Melinda) to the park for a while, where they had an elaborate picnic . They brought their two dogs, blankets, pizza, beer, battery powered ipod speakers, and magazines. I read bits of an old issue of Cosmo, a magazine I do not at all respect and found that it really did not measure up at all to the fashion magazines I enjoy.

I went for a brisk walk around the park later and had a KGB at a Family Mart before heading home. KGB is a vodka/lemon drink equivalent to Mike's Hard Lemonade. By the way, drinking in public is legal here in Korea, so mini-marts set up plastic outdoor chairs, tables, and umbrellas on the sidewalk for customers to hang out and drink. This 50-some year old Korean man (and another random 40 year old man whom the 50 year old has coaxed into talking with him) saw me sitting by myself and insisted that I join them. He had a big bottle of rice wine or some sort of milky soju that he consumed in big gulps. He tried to be pleasant and talk to me in English, but his English was almost as limited as my Korean. He wanted to know where I come from, how old I am, and what my job is. He kept pressing me to take some of his squid jerky. I take some but laughingly say “Anyeo Mashi So Yo” (It tastes bad). That didn't keep him from continually obligating me to receive more of the jerky though I didn't eat it. After finishing my drink, I bow and say goodbye in English to them and then accidentally say “Anyeonghasaeyo” (hello) instead of “Anyeongheekaysayo” (goodbye), but since Koreans themselves slur the two phases enough together when they talk, I hope they didn't notice.

I read David Copperfield into the evening. My windows were open to allow the apartment to cool off from the warm day. I laid in bed reading and, upon my last few pages, I heard a Korean man singing (it must have been a concert in the park). It is a calm and beautiful voice and I am comforted by it. He ended his concert with the song “I'm Yours” just as I finished David Copperfield at 10:15 PM. I enjoyed the synchronism, but I felt a little sad too. This novel has been a kind of companion to me, and now it is done.