Worth Noting

A short post to record two interesting occurrences as of late.

1) I received this from one of my 3rd Grade students:


That's right - its a pink box that says "Whip Bear: Whippy little bear whip!! How about taking a walk?"

EVERYTHING in English in Korea is this random. At first I was amused by it, then I was appalled by it, and now I'm just used to it. So Whip Bear now fits in the "normal" category in my brain.

But even more intriguing than the outside of this little box is what is found inside:


Two handcrafted finger puppets (a bear and a pig, both in what appears to be formal wear with their heads slightly resembling upside-down popcorn boxes with the word "LOVE" printed on the front) and glitter/sequins.

Only in Korea. It's definitely the cutest, most randomly awesome present I've ever received.

2) Milk

Milk in Korea just tastes...funny. I've tried almost every brand and they just taste...funny. I can't put my finger on it but it must have something to do with what their cows eat...I keep flashing back to that scene in Napoleon Dynamite where he's identifying defects in milk in a 4-H competition. I'll take a swig and think "This one tastes like the cow wandered into an onion patch". So yesterday, I bought this milk, and I didn't see this until after I bought it and drank a cup that it says:



Premium Bone Milk.

Premium...bone...milk. Is the milk (concerned face)...made from...bones?? (very concerned face) EEEEEWWWWWWW!!!! Yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck!

But then I thought, maybe its just calcium-fortified, you know, to build strong bones. And who knows what the 206 refers to. 206 vitamins and minerals? 206 bones in every carton? 206 calories in every serving? 206 minutes that you will spend TRYING TO FIGURE THIS OUT???

Heck if I know. Oh, Korea. You are a perplexing labyrinth of mysteries.

New Years Resolution #1 - ACHIEVED.

I just got Skype.

AND IT ONLY TOOK ME 5 MONTHS!! I love procrastinating (Is that how you spell that? I'll look it up later...)

And then I went to HomePlus and bought a headset that makes me look like a cross between an air traffic controller and a magazine telemarketer. There's also a webcam option, but I will not be acquiring one, due to the aforementioned ridiculousness of the headset.

So get Skype. So we can talk. And I can sell you magazines. Using the phrase "Roger that, 10-4".

Also while I was at HomePlus I bought some Philadelphia cream cheese, because I bought bagels at CostCo and they're just getting lonely in my cupboard. So I went to check out and the lady asked me if I wanted a plastic spoon to take with me. My acquired groceries consisted of exactly

1) One headset, and
2) One tub of cream cheese

What could the spoon be for...this was about 4 hours ago and I'm still thinking about it.

Next time I buy laundry detergent I'll make sure and ask for a plastic fork.

Here are some Namsan hike pictures for ya:

I'm too tired to think of a clever title.

Sorry.

I've got about 8 hrs of sleep in the last 60 hours or so, so if I slur my sentences, that's why.

Today was the longest day of my life. I swear this has been a blog theme before...but today was seriously never-ending. I feel like the last 3 days have melded into one dizzying hallucination and sometimes I get my dreams confused with reality. Mom - I promise I'm not on drugs.

My dreams have been SO VIVID as of late. Its as though I never really fall asleep, but rather am carried away into another world where I witness wonderful and horrific random things that probably mean a lot more than I am capable of understanding. Its like I live two lives, one in the conscious realm and another in the unconscious dream world. Erica was right - I am a thinker monster. And to get a good night's sleep, I must find a way to slay the beast.

Yesterday I went to work expecting the usual routine of Post-Camp planning alone in my classroom, when lo and behold it turned out to be a regular school day (no classes though, thank goodness). I love it when my CT tells me important information like that.

After work, I went home to pack and then headed to Trevor and Rachel's apt for dinner. Now Trevor and Rachel are currently in Bali, but they made the grave error of telling us that we could use/crash at/destroy their place while they were gone. Since they live MUCH closer to downtown Seoul than we do, Nate & Jess C., Hil and I decided to inhabit their apartment on Friday night so we could easily get to church for our leadership meeting on Saturday morning at 8:30 AM.

Now, Trevor and Rachel are from Canada. And their apartment was the temperature of Canada. And it took approximately FOREVER to heat...when we got there it was 12 degrees Celsius (53 Fahrenheit) and by the time we were ready for bed, it had inched up to 16 degrees (61 Fahrenheit) and so there we slept, freezing and shivering all night long. I don't know how the Canadians do it...must be all that ice hockey they play in the winter gets 'em used to it or something.

So I slept for a total of about 2 hours because my body kept waking me up to remind me that it was ridiculously cold.

We had a ministry meeting at church from 8:30-noon. I stayed awake the whole time, and was consequently very proud of myself.

After a light lunch at "the side dish place", as Hil calls it, we changed clothes and headed to Namsan for some hiking.

Namsan is a small mountain right in the middle of Seoul where they built the Seoul tower, as pictured below:


Namsan is the large hill in the distance with the white towers atop it. You can click on this picture to see more clearly.

You can either hike up Namsan or take a cable car up. Its a rather short hike, so we decided to do that. I should have counted the steps...there were probably at least 500. The hike was only 1160 meters (3480 feet - about 3/4 mile), but it was almost completely vertical. It wasn't to difficult - Korea has trained me to have great stamina when it comes to stairs, because there are so many of them in this stinking city. 500? No problem. Call me when you've got a real challenge. I barely broke a sweat.

I was pretty much toast after we got back from that excursion. The whole "not sleeping" thing coupled with the "mountain climbing" thing kind of caught up with me.

Here's your weekly excerpt:

"I am convinced that the essential meaning of true beauty exists in a dimension that is 90% incomprehensible to human beings. Beauty is so complex. And yet, we can all agree that some things are beautiful. Sunsets over the ocean, mountains shrouded in misty fog, flowers – Nature (God’s creation) is beautiful. But why? What is it about the way the wavelengths of sunlight hitting the atmosphere in just a certain way that makes it more beautiful than any other time? We can’t explain it. It’s just beautiful. And I think that’s how beauty is in general – you can’t explain it, but you know it when you see it, when you perceive it, when you experience it. We see beauty in a sunset. We can hear beauty in music. We can smell beauty in freshly cut flowers. Its all around us. Beauty in this way is objective.

When you look at a sunset sky, what do you perceive? Just think about color for a minute. What is color? And would it exist if our eyes weren’t capable of seeing it? Is it something inherent or something perceived? If we saw the whole world in a spectrum of black and white, would some shades of gray be more beautiful to us than others? Is God colorful? Will we be able to perceive it without the rods and cones that are at work in our visual process? Or will it be more than color? Something that exceeds color – something that makes ordinary colors seem dull and flat. We must not forget that we are being prepared for the revelation of another dimension, the dimension that C.S. Lewis describes in “The Great Divorce”, where our surroundings become too “real” for our bodies to handle. We are preparing for an eternity in Heaven."

"The only thing worth holding onto is holding onto me"

Currently it is 12:54 AM, I am sitting on the floor, eating crackers and peanut butter (Peter Pain) and listening to "The Way You Make Me Feel" by none other than the King of Pop, Mr. Michael Jackson.

I don't care what you say - this song is amazing.

I just realized that my Blogger profile says that I'm currently living in Afghanistan and making my living in the field of Accounting. This information is decidedly inaccurate. Not that there's anything wrong with accounting. There's actually a lot wrong with Afghanistan. But that is neither here nor there.

Tonight we had dinner at Subway. It tasted like home. You guys should eat at Subway - with fresh ingredients and healthy choices - Tasting is Believing. Uncle Glen, you owe me 20 bucks.

I'm trying to cut back on coffee. Ever since that gastritis episode, I'm realizing that stomach lining is important and its integrity is worth maintaining. So I've started drinking other healthier options, like tonight I got a Soy Green Tea Latte. Hope I don't turn into one of those dern hippies.

Although, one of my fourth-graders, Tim, has started bringing me coffee when he comes to English camp class at 11. Every day for the last week, he has paid 500 won (about 50 cents) to buy me a coffee from who knows where, and he carries it to school for me. I think some of his friends razzed him for it one day, so now he opens the door to the classroom, whispers "Teacher!" and waves for me to come and get it from him. He then quietly sneaks into the classroom through the back door as though no coffee exchange happened. I love my Timpy :)

Before I head out, here's a bit more of my serious writing:

"Success is not merely avoiding failure. If you do not fail you have not accomplished anything. And make no mistake – you will fail. Many times. I’m the kind of person that hates learning experientially, that is, by falling on my face. But at the same time I know that God can teach me so much when I’m lying flat, with my face in the mud.

So many times when I ask God to teach me something, or to grow me in some way, I half expect him to pass along some good reading material on the subject, perhaps facilitate some good discussion with trusted friends, and maybe throw in a moment of spiritual enlightenment. God can work in these ways. However, he doesn’t always package things in an easy-to-digest parcel.

Many times when I expect to be taught the easy way, the hands-off way, the way that protects Jessica’s pride, God wallops me with a type of learning that I can only describe as being intensely humbling and incredibly painful. Its not painful because God is hurting me; its painful because of the harm I have already caused myself. The smack on the hand is never as painful as the realization that you’re wrong, that you’ve made a mistake. That’s how pride gets you."

Why talk about the weather when we could very well be selling umbrellas?

Ever since I got to Korea, I've been writing more and more with each passing month. This blog has served to record the stories from my life's experiences here. I have journals where I write my uber-personal ramblings and prayers. And then I have the project that I started in September, which is a collection of musings about God, growth and life that I haven't actually shared with anyone...

...but I decided to change that. I realized that what I like most about reading other people's blogs is being able to see them learn and grow, and so I've decided to add a couple of paragraphs from my "musings" every once in awhile. Someday, God-willing, maybe I'll get this stuff published...but until then, take it for what its worth. I welcome any and all comments. And don't plagiarize, because Jack Bauer will hunt you down.

INSTALLMENT ONE:

"As a child I hated hiking. I can’t remember how many tantrums I threw at the mere proposition of such an activity. Hiking. To my childhood self hiking was walking around with no TV, no music (this was before mp3 players, gosh do I feel old), in some barren remote area on a designated 4 foot wide path talking about everything grown-up that no little kid cares about in the slightest. And it will take 3 hours, if it is cold it will take 3 hours and if it is warm it may take longer.

I think I can blame most of my distaste for hiking on the environment. Northern Indiana hiking is not something anyone would call “spectacular”. Many times we walked through fields, along a stream, and very occasionally we would find a hill. Everyone is walking straight ahead, just keep walking, keep walking uphill and down, through trees and across bridges, up the stairs and through the mud. I used to think of how ugly nature was, when everything was brown and dead or muddy.

I realize now in my maturity that for a large portion of my childhood hiking experience, I was looking at the path itself at all times to ensure I wasn’t in danger of stepping on a rogue rock, branch, or God-forbid, something very alive. I was always fearful that I would step on something or that I would trip and fall, so in order to avoid this fate my eyes were firmly focused on the path. Looking back, I of course realize that focusing on the path rarely lets you enjoy the scenery. I could have been hiking next to many beautiful things, but I will never know for sure. This I regret.

And yet, I feel like many times I have gone through life the same way, so focused and determined not to fall that I forget to stop looking down and enjoy the view. If you go hiking and solely look at the path and think “left foot right foot left foot right foot” as you trudge along, when you finish, what have you accomplished? Yes you have walked a few, perhaps many miles. You may have even managed to stay upright the whole time. But did you gain any knowledge? Did you appreciate anything? Did you ever wonder why you were hiking in the first place? And most importantly, did you even notice anything but yourself?"

Hello Jack Bauer

On Friday, I was kidnapped.

Not by the Chinese government, not even by the KGB - but by none other than my co-teacher.

She invited me over to her house for dinner, which was really nice of her. Her place is TRICKED OUT (ie. its very nice) - she has a HUGE flatscreen TV (the kind my brother wants instead of a college education), a whole room to showcase her art, and a screened-in porch overlooking the city. In Korea, space is money, so you learn to appreciate spacious places fairly quickly. And her place was spacious.

She even had a couch. All my Korean peeps just gasped when they read that. You just don't come across comfy furniture here.

So I arrived at her place, took the tour, and she sat me down on the couch and handed me two remotes and told me that I could watch a movie as she made dinner.

She didn't talk to me at all for the next hour and a half. I watched the entire movie of Miss Potter while she was preparing dinner. She didn't want any help, and I guess she really didn't want to talk to me much either. But I was content to watch the movie. And it was SO GOOD! But I am a girl...and it was kind of a girly movie...

So she brings dinner out to the living room, and MAN - did she make a lot of food! We had kimchi soup, regular kimchi, rice, dakgalbi, beef galbi, samgyupsal (pork), sundae (sausage), and all the accompanying side dishes. No wonder it took her an hour and a half.

She turned on the TV throughout dinner and we barely talked at all. After cleaning up after dinner, she asked me if I've ever seen the TV show "24". I said no, but that a lot of my friends watch it, so it must be pretty good. She put in the Season 1 DVD and pressed play. Then her cell phone rang, so she went into her room to talk on the phone.

For 3 hours.

...

I watched 3 and a half episodes of "24" in a row. And though it is both an interesting and suspenseful show, I can't sit still to watch anything for 3 hours.

After she got off the phone she came out to the living room, and I immediately took advantage of her presence to let her know that I should probably get going. So she took me home.

It was so nice of her to have me over and to make me dinner, but I felt strangely like a hostage throughout the night. There is a part of me that is just a bit leery of my co-teacher. I can't really explain why...its just feeling. Scary.

But I made it out alive. Happy ending - yay!

Yesterday was Eddy's birthday, so tonight we took him to a Mexican restaurant in Shinchon. The highlight was when the staff brought us all sombreros and a poncho for Eddy and sang a wonderfully Korean-Mexican rendition of Happy Birthday. Then we went to a noraebang (singing room). We were incredibly disappointed to find out that they didn't have "Ghostbusters", but we sang a bunch of mid-90s alternative and grunge hits instead.

By the way - all songs by Nirvana and Red Hot Chili Peppers have completely unintelligible and ridiculous lyrics. But, we decided that that's what makes them awesome.

I'm out - Korean love!

Jess

More stories for my grandchildren...

Today was interesting and hilarious and painful and fun and awful and exhausting.

Wow - I didn't know one day could have that many adjectives.

This week on Tuesday I started my school's English camp, which consists of me teaching 3 classes a day by myself from 10-1. It has been such a nice break!! I know my kids, I know their strengths and their weaknesses, and I know which ones I have to send to the back of the room to do worksheets (Mikey). And I can finally have fun with them! NO SET CURRICULUM!!! WOOOHOOO!!! My 6th grade class is my favorite - most of my after-school kids from last semester (Emily, Grace, Kim Hey Won, Chan-ul and Sarah) are in this class, plus a few more good ones. I don't want to think about saying goodbye to them come February...

But anyway...the stress level in my life has been significantly decreased - and I'm loving teaching again.

So today I was feeling a bit under the weather (as I've felt ever since that TGIFriday's incident), and as it turned out I had an appointment for an endoscopy after school. I learned a lot from the last hospital visit, and arranged to have someone from church to translate for me - my church is so good to me. Also, Hil and Jess Crew decided they should accompany me (which was so sweet of them to do). I have a hard time admitting I would like other people there to be with me, so its a good thing that they insisted :)

Hil thought it was funny that I even thought about going without her. As if I had a choice, as she pointed out.

So we get to the hospital, and the DOCTOR SPEAKS ENGLISH!!! Well, he speaks some, but enough to ease my mind. God is soooo good!!! Laura, the woman from church who came to translate, was relieved that he spoke English, because her knowledge of medical terminology is not extensive (which is completely understandable because she's not a doctor).

So if you're clueless as to what an endoscopy is, here's a brief overview:

The doctor numbs your throat and slides a long tube with a camera on the end down your esophagus and into your stomach. He takes a look around and notes anything unusual, possibly removing suspicious-looking tissue if he finds any. The whole procedure takes about 5 minutes.

So he asks if I want to be knocked out for the procedure (as it turns out, most people choose this option). If you know me (or any of my maternal family members) you'll know that we don't believe in excessive measures to provide "comfort" during medical procedures, whether that be epidurals, anesthetic, or anything that keeps us from being completely lucid for any measure of time. I think my mom took 2 ibuprofen tablets when she gave birth to me.

So no, I did not want to be knocked out...I don't want to spend hours in recovery, I don't want any extra chemicals running through my body, so you can stop pushing your drugs on me Mr. Dr. Drug-Pusher. I need them not, thank you.

Then he asks me if I want to be sedated for the procedure. Look, dude - just spray the back of my throat and throw that camera down my gullet. I don't want your "happy pills" and I don't want your "sleepy drugs" would you JUST get STARTED ALREADY???

He gives me a chuckle and says something in Korean that I'll tell you later...

So I gargle this potent numbing solution for a minute, trying not to choke (as Hil tries to break my concentration by making me laugh...jerk). Then I go into a dark room, lay down on my side, and they put a plastic mouth-opener thing (medical term) in my mouth to keep me from biting the nurses or something. And then the camera goes in.

It is important to note at this point that the camera-tubey thing is approximately the width of a finger. And the tube is not extraordinarily flexible, as Wikipedia had informed me it would be.

In fact, it kind of caught the side of my throat going down and scraped for a bit as I screamed silently with panicked eyes. And I can't say anything because of that plastic mouth-opener. And even if I could, I don't know how to say "OKAY I CHANGED MY MIND I NEED THE SEDATIVE NOW" in Korean. But it kept going down.

Now, at this point I can breathe, but when I breathe, air not only goes into my lungs, but it goes into my stomach too. So every time the doctor moves the camera, air shifts around, causing me to wretch slightly and burp ever so eloquently.

I don't know if you'll ever understand this experience without actually having it done. It was like being strangled from the inside. My eyes were squished shut for the whole procedure, the whole of my energy being concentrated into not freaking out. About halfway through the procedure, I felt a comfort come over me and its weird, but I felt this warmth around me...and I stopped wretching, and I relaxed, and I thought "I will be fine and this will be over soon." And as that thought crossed my mind, the camera came out.

I burped a few more times, stood up, wiped the tears from my eyes and THANKED GOD that it was over. I opened the curtain and saw Hil and Jess and said,

"BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHH".

It was the longest burp on record. But I did say "Excuse Me". If I would've been in the right mind, I would've quoted the movie "Elf" and said "Did you hear that?!?!"

So the doctor said he saw a lot of inflammation (gastritis) and a he found a few lesions that he removed and was going to take a look at under his handy-dandy microscope. I said thank you many times and he took off.

Later Laura told me that when I told him that I didn't want sedation or anesthetic, he said that he was surprised and thought that maybe I was a little crazy.

At this point, I will have to concur.

Hilary is famous!!

Guess what - Hil made the newspaper!

No, not the Korean newspaper - the Fort Wayne News-Sentinel!

Here's her interview

Its been an interesting day.

After rolling around all night, trying everything I could to alleviate the sharp, stabbing pain in my stomach (I rolled to the left, to the right, stood up, sat down, lied down, ran around, took assorted vitamins and painkillers, drank water, drank vinegar, drank juice, ate honey, and did everything else wikipedia told me to do), around 4:30 AM I decided that I couldn't TAKE IT anymore.

So after a series of dead-end phone calls, Hil came over and we trekked to the nearest hospital.

Now, I've got my game face on here. I'm not one to admit I'm in more pain than I can handle. BUT. This was bad.

So off to Boramae Hospital we went, and found ourselves in the Emergency Room, amongst several other sick-looking people. Hil was a trooper and stayed with me until she had to leave to go to work. It took two of us to figure out what they wanted me to do (remember: I'm in Korea) because most of the staff spoke little or no English. The head doctor (who looked like he was a little kid wearing his dad's scrubs and spoke with the cutest lisp) spoke enough English as to where I could answer his questions and follow his commands.

After a gamut of tests, I was informed that I have what's known as a "gastric ulcer", or a weakness in the lining of the stomach. This can be cause by bacteria or an overuse of anti-inflammatory drugs, and can be aggravated by high-caffeine intake (yep), a high-stress lifestyle (uh huh) and a history of being awesome (you know it).

I may have made that last thing up. But in my case, you can clearly see a correlation.

Some things I noted about Korean hospitals:
- There is apparently no "patient-privacy" law - everybody was into everybody's business
- There are "usher-like" gentlemen wearing suits to follow you around and carry your things
- There is always an ajumma mopping the floors, which on one hand is very sanitary and smart, but on the other hand creates infinite opportunities to cause other emergencies due to unusually wet floors.

I am feeling slightly better now, but I have lost all desire to ever eat anything again.

Gonna get some rest, gotta teach tomorrow...grrrr...

Ugh

We had TGIFriday's for dinner tonight...and I've been writhing in pain for the last 6 hours.

It seems as though I cannot eat "Western" food anymore. Its like my body...rejects it. I can eat food so spicy that my lips swell and my tongue loses all feeling without any adverse effects, but eating a slice of cheese and a potato makes me feel like I'm going to keel over.

I think I'll stick to kimchi and rice for the next week or so.

On a brighter note, while at TGIFriday's, Hil told the waitstaff that it was Cathy's birthday (which it was not) just so they would put an obnoxious hat on her and sing an elaborate birthday song. Cathy has vowed revenge. I can't wait.

Learned the chilluns about Mary and Martha today. I still enjoy reading that story. So much to ponder. The kids got to color some after the lesson and Koji colored Jesus' hair a sort-of tie-dye-rainbow pattern. Koji is...special.

Time for bed. Or more accurately, time for lying awake in bed because my stomach is eating itself. I swear I will never eat cheese again.

Where are the muffins?

I keep forgetting to post this video...its from when Hil and I went grocery shopping for Christmas Brunch at Costco and then were crushed by our groceries over a 45 minute cab-ride home.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSU30Qvf_Qs&feature=related

Now that's quality entertainment.

English Camp is over. HOORAY! But next week I start the English Camp at my school, which lasts 3 weeks. CRIKEY. But I know all the kids, and its only 3 hours a day, so I don't foresee being medicated any time soon.

Enjoy your last days of vacation! Ah vacation...must be nice...whine whine whine.

Night! (Its actually 11:30 AM where you are, but what the heck)

English Camp is killing me slowly

I've been teaching at an "English Camp" for the past 2 weeks or so. What's an english camp, you ask? Well, there are no bonfires. And there are no midnight pillow fights. In fact, a more accurate title would be English Labor Camp because that's the kind of camp they're referring to.

The kids come at 9. My class is the third-graders (the youngest with the lowest speaking level). I teach them for 90 minutes straight (no break). Then there's a 30 minute snack/run around/destroy things break. Then I co-teach for 70 minutes straight (no break). Then we have lunch (this is the only break time when the kids are miraculously all sitting down at their desks and quiet) as we watch online episodes of SpongeBob SquarePants (this is the highlight of my day...SpongeBob protects my sanity). Then I teach for 50 minutes. Then another 30 minute snack/shouting/stabbing break. Then I teach a drama class for 60 minutes. Then I give them homework. Then I check their homework. Then they go home.

Sometimes when it gets really bad I run away to the teachers room and pretend to make copies.

I don't blame the kids too much - I mean, if my parents sent me to school during the holiday vacation, I'd feel like stabbing someone with a giant piece of cardboard too.

I have really good kids, kids like Candy who dot their "i"s with hearts, kids like Belity who yell at the kids who don't shut the door when they leave the room, kids like Alex and Kayle who actually try their homework before coming up to my desk, pointing at their paper and saying "Teacher Teacher!! What?"

But I also have bad kids. Kids like Chris who bite their classmates, kids like Brian who look at you when you call them and then just walk out the door, kids like Steven who run around the room with scissors and force you to pry the weapons from their tiny fingers while grabbing them by the scruff of their dandelion-yellow camp hoodie. And its the bad kids that far too often grab all of your attention.

And then there's the co-teacher situation. I could blog about it, but it would take the good part of a year to do so, and 2008's got far too much promise to waste on that task. Long story short - my co-teacher from my school followed me to this english camp (to impress the vice principal) which she is not qualified to teach at, and then specifically requested to teach with me, because she was too embarassed for anyone else to see her English ability.

All personal issues aside - the bottom line is: She is not qualified to teach English. It is detrimental to the students, and it aggravating me BEYOND REASON. To give you an analogy to the situation, let's just say that I can see that some mysterious force is keeping both my feet on the ground, but that doesn't mean I'm qualified to teach physics. Her degree is in teaching science, specifically astrophysics. I'm sure she would make a stellar (no pun intended) astrophysics teacher.

But she can't make a coherent sentence in English about 50% of the time. And that is absolutely unacceptable if you're in the position of imparting your knowledge unto others.

So yeah. If you want to hear more about it, call me and I'll waste your international phone card minutes :)

Tomorrow is the last day of camp, so hopefully I'll be in a better mood soon.

On a happier note, New Years Eve was the greatest night of my life in Korea thus far. We went to dinner, then to coffee and then to a NORAEBANG (singing room) where we sang karaoke for 2 hours (some crowd favorites were Chumbawumba's "Tub-Thumping" (I GET KNOCKED DOWN! BUT I GET UP AGAIN!!) and the "Ghostbusters" theme song which we sang twice). The we went for coffee again and when it turned midnight we ran out into the streets of Myeong-dong screaming at the top of our lungs like a bunch of American/Canadian idiots. It was glorious.

Hope your years' are starting well! Shout-out to Mackenzie who turns 10 today!! Love you and miss you, twin cousin!

And to the rest of you as well - Happy Primary Season!!

Jess

Hello 2008!

Today I opened a jar of maraschino cherries.

3 people had previously tried unsuccessfully to open the jar of maraschino cherries, including a fairly burly man. But I knew it was no match for me. If there's one thing I do well, it's opening rebellious jars. As I walked home from Bible Study I contemplated how exactly I came to possess this remarkable ability.

I think it all started when I was little, and we would have big family dinners at my Grandma's house. As we all sat down to eat around the big dining room table, we would hold hands and sing:

"Sing thank you to God, joyously sing;
Sing thank you to God, for every good thing."

And then we would proceed to squeeze THE CRAP out of whoevers' hands we were holding at the time. Hopefully you weren't sitting next to Uncle Al. He showed no mercy, even to seven-year-old girls. So as I grew up, and this tradition continued, my grip got progressively stronger and stronger.

Another factor is heredity. My mom can also open any jar you throw at her (but if you do throw a jar at her, be prepared to get beat). She is so strong, in fact, that the neighbor girl is convinced that my mom is the strongest woman in the world. She used to volunteer to beat up any kids that made fun of me in elementary school. And when I told her that I couldn't sleep because I was afraid there were monsters in the house, she put on the mean face and told me, as a matter of fact, that she didn't allow monsters in the house. And I believed her.

So back to the maraschino cherries...I actually think maraschino cherries are quite possibly the grossest thing invented since processed cheese and SPAM. Nothing like taking a terrific fruit and suspending it in some chemically-enhanced fructose solution. Anyway, I was opening them for my co-teacher. She was having the kids make canapes today to teach them about food verbs.

What on earth, you ask, is a "canape" (kah-nah-pay)?? Well she asked me, expecting me to know. I told her it was French. That was my best guess anyway.

So first she told the kids to take a cracker and put in on a plate. Then she told them to put cheese on the cracker.

So far, so good.

And then she told them to put mayonnaise on it. I start wondering exactly where she's going with this.

And then she says "Put the lettuce on top." At this point I am very thankful that I am not making a canape, whatever that is.

But she's not finished. Oh no. And now for the clincher:

"Next, put the cherry on the lettuce."

The kids, though visibly shaken, do as she says. At this point, I have the "What the..." look plastered all over my face, and I'm not making an effort to conceal it. To her credit, the canape did look beautiful.

"Now, you can enjoy the canape!" she exclaims.

What happens next will live on with me forever.

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" all 20 children exclaim in unison, along with me and the assistant teacher. My poor co-teacher just looked confused. I was trying to think of how to explain the opposite of "delicious" without sounding critical...but I just laughed instead. Until, that is, some of my students decided it would be a nice thing to give me their canapes as a gift. So then I had to find a way to discreetly dispose of 5 canapes.

The second canapes she had them make featured crackers, cheese, kiwi, bananas, tomatoes, and mayonnaise. Once again, I had kids spewing half-masticated canapuke into the trashcan. And then 5 minutes later, it was lunchtime. But for some reason, I wasn't hungry.

Gotta go to bed and get my 6 hours...perhaps tomorrow holds more potential canape memories. You can bet I'm looking forward to it.