The Price of Two Stickers

I visited the hospital again today to drop off some chocolate as a token of good will and friendship. When I walked in I went to the front desk, said the first thing that came to mind, ("doctor"), and the woman ordered me to sit. Not able to argue, I politely complied and sat on the waiting room chairs like a patient until my doctor-friend came out to see me. I gave him my chocolates and tried to leave, but the receptionist woman yelled at the doctor and I was once again ushered to sit, but this time in a huge black leather chair in the middle of the room. The doctor turned the chair on and walked away, leaving me alone in the the waiting room getting massaged by a chair. It felt good, I admit, until I looked down and saw my boobs jiggling all over the place due to the hearty chair vibrations... and that felt highly inappropriate, so I crossed my arms and pressed them down. THEN, quite suddenly, something went up my butt. Like seriously, up the crack. That area has never needed massaging before, so I don't know what anyone was thinking when they invented this chair. This butt wedge would go up and down and forward and back and I couldn't get up because my calves were being gripped by the chair. Then the second doctor came down and started asking me questions about how I liked the chair, so I lied about how I enjoyed it while I held down my boobs and ignored the thing between my butt cheeks. Eventually I was just like, "can I turn this off?" and walked away. I am now a full grown woman.

I made pretty good friends with the doctor of oriental medicine (all you Asians, it's the title he gives himself, I promise). He walked me to the stationary store where I bought two packs of stickers for 1,000 Won (equivalent to roughly a dollar). We talked about the hospital and, being that it's in a very rural area, I asked if hospital services were free. He said, and I quote, "No, but it's very cheap. You can get acupuncture same price as two stickers." ...What? We seriously had to stop in the middle of the side walk so he could clarify just what that meant. Instead of, "Oh, acupuncture is 1,000 Won." It's "same as two stickers." Boy, THAT puts it in perspective!!

We made future plans for me to get acupuncture. I'll trade him, two stickers for a pain-free back. I love Korea.

Friends in strange places.

So, there's only one pay phone in the entire town (as far as I can tell) and the only reason why I haven't been able to use it is because it's a pay phone that takes only phone cards as payment. I do have a phone card, but not in the form of a "card," as it's just numbers that I have to dial. Well, when I was in Chuncheon this past weekend, Jisoo (old room mate from last year and best friend in Korea) helped me buy a cheap phone card that would work in this particular phone booth (don't you just love the aqua color by the way?). Yeay.

So today, I make plans with Anthony for a phone date. The island that he's working on right now, Kauai, has limited reception (which I recently discovered) and the only way to reach him is if he's in one of the few undead reception zones. So, we make plans and I walk the 15-20 minute walk to the lone pay phone only to get my phone card stuck in the phone itself. With the use of two carefully maneuvered bobby pins, I managed to get it back out only to struggle to get a dial tone out of it. I go into the nearest building asking for help (as it's possible that I'm doing it wrong) and this guys tells me it's broken. But wait, he then tells me to go to the police (just what Korean word did I say to give him that idea?) and then he asks if I'm Chinese (because my thick American accent is so hard to decipher). He does offer me his phone, but I'm about to call long distance, so I just thank him and walk back to where I came from.

Later, Keong Ran (my current room mate and Korean teacher) tells me that the principal wants to have dinner with us, so we get ready and meet him at the school. He takes us to a nearby hospital, completely hidden behind dirt roads and old houses, and then walks away, leaving the two of us behind and confused. Three young guys come out and stand around silently, so I make jokes to Keong Ran about the awkward situation. Then one guy laughs and starts asking me questions in English. Suddenly, two guys are asking me questions in English, so I turn to the last guy (the dentist) and he has no idea what I'm saying. We go out to dinner together, sans principal.

Apparently, the principal went to the dentist today and shared the fact that he had foreigners and pawned us off. So we go out and have a pretty good time, but the dentist gets up and leaves in the middle of dinner, without saying goodbye, because he hates English. Later, the four of us start talking about the hospital, which is very small and probably the newest building in the town, and we learn that downstairs is a spa. Then, after I share with them my telephone plight, they offer to let me use theirs. Then, I ask if they have a TV and they said that the dentist has a huge one... but I can only watch if I don't turn to English stations. So I then choose to press my luck and ask if they have a washing machine... AND YES they totally do! So I have been cordially invited to do my laundry at the hospital any time I want.

It was the best stroke of luck that has happened since we've been here. A working phone line, a TV, a washing machine, FRIENDS. I'll revisit them tomorrow to drop off some Hawaiian chocolate, and later again to have them try some coconut rum. Small town living just got a little better.

Till next time,
Nix!

Korean Living!

Trying my best to catch you up.

I know, I've been so poor about keeping things updated. My life has been made up of a series of power naps that make up for the 3am bedtimes and the 7 o' clock alarms. The first three days here dragged in a way that made me too lethargic to document, but it was in a flash that the pace of life here changed.

My first four days of this adventure were spent proof reading materials and doing research in preparation for the English training camp that was soon approaching. Jisoo, my house mate from last year, magically appeared at the office to whisk me away from language slavery. In all honesty, it's been go-go-go ever since, eating and drinking and taking pictures with our "one-day friends" as backdrops. We don't remember any of their names.

The native English speakers soon arrived and my friendship count shot straight up from one to double digits. For the most part, we all got along, sharing a joy in adventure and good company. Together, we scoured the underground shopping center and walked the streets of Chuncheon, indulging in the wonders of cultural Korea. Even though this is my second time here, there are countless things that still manage to amaze me.

Soon, we were in a town called Cherwon and learning tips to teach. For the first time, the native speakers and the Korean teachers had a chance to meet, and by the time our four day camp was up, we had made life long friends that have already made our time here worthwhile. Naturally, we bonded instantly with certain people and it was my friendship with Jisoo that somehow improved. We conquered activities together, caused trouble, mastered double dutch and tried our best to convince the YMCA staff that, with the other, we'd be great at everything. Unfortunately, this wasn't enough to keep us together, as they placed us in different towns with different partners two hours away. We have already schemed to reunite, and when we do, world, watch out.

Still, by the end of camp, everyone was close with everyone, so much so that when we arrived back in Chuncheon, we were all making plans to get lunch and hang out. The Americans hastily planned a visit to Seoul for our last weekend before the true teaching begins. Although the day trip started off quite nicely, it ended in the only way that a day in which all had gone wrong could end. The unfortunately long story made short goes like this:

Caught the wrong subway, missed the last bus, walked a mile in the wrong direction and spent the night in a train station. At one point, by complete irony and bad luck, I found myself on the wrong side of the door when security locked the entrances to the terminal. My traveling companions on the inside and yours truly on the out. It was one o'clock in the morning and I was hopelessly separated from everyone I knew and immersed in a dark world of homeless men and aimless teenagers. Frightened and confused, I found solace in one security guard who told me stories of his family while I cried by his side. All had gone wrong, but his kindness was my salvation. Together, we waited until the doors were unlocked and when they did, he escorted me to my four friends who hugged me while I cried out my relief.

The final train ride home was spent in utter silence - we were asleep and thankful to be returning home.

But alas, Chuncheon couldn't be ours forever as most of us were sent away to our new towns. My Korean teacher is a girl named Kyung Rahn, my age, adorable, and hilarious. Most of our conversations contain moments of laughter and jokes about our rural life. In fact, what happened when we got dropped off looked something much like that of a movie scene. The taxi drove off and left us sitting atop our luggage at the top of the steps. The school was empty and locked, so we sat in silence, looking out into the vast nothingness while we waited for anyone to claim us. We sat like this for fifteen minutes before deciding to explore. It was when we were snooping in someones greenhouse that the principal spotted us. Embarrassed, we ran to our bags and followed him in the school.

Anyway, tomorrow is our first day of class and with the overwhelming amount of free time at my disposal, I'll be better able to keep you updated on Korean life. It'll be good.

ps. I'll leave you with an amazing Korean oddity to drop your jaw at: Entitled "The best lunch time ambiance ever." (Click to see just what we're really dining on).

Lacking packing entusiasm

Flight: Tomorrow.
Passport: Missing.
Suitcase: Empty.
Stress Level: Medium High
Packing List: FINISHED! Ta-da!


There's always something small to smile about I guess.

Anyway, I remain completely unmotivated to do any rigorous packing and most likely won't be until about tomorrow. There's something about that last minute that propels me, although I will regret not starting now when that last minute finally rolls around. We all know how that goes.

Once packed and on board, it'll be a nine and a half hour flight plus a three or four hour bus ride to Chuncheon, South Korea, the city which I like to refer to as "home base." It's quite possibly the only place in Korea that I feel the most comfortable and have the most friends. It's where I learned how to catch taxi's and go to movies and shop by myself. The first place I got tipsy over Soju and attended my first Korean wedding and the only city abroad where I've ever had to visit a hospital. A lot of memories hail from Chuncheon, so I find myself terribly excited to show up and wander around like the eager foreigner that I was and am. Still, it will come with the price of sitting around for twelve hours at least, alone and anxious for that moment when my bus will round some bend and allow me to behold my personal city (yes, it belongs to me and I belong to it. Chuncheon and Nix forever).

On another note, I'll miss my sewing machine a lot as we've only recently developed an appreciation for each other. She has helped me spit out a multitude of experiments that range from a giant quilt to a dress gone wrong in more ways than one. We will be reunited in no time to tag team in the pursuit of fabric chaos. Amen to that.

Until then, it's happy travels to me and packing, packing, packing.