On the way to the landfill?
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On the way to the landfill?
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Next time you get to thinking your job stinks...
This is not a 학원 horror story. Well not totally, but there is the obligatory Midnight Run. This is not a series of female conquest stories. Not entirely anyway. It is the story of one dude and his on-again/off-again relationship with Korea over 20 plus years... Join in anytime and enjoy (please share if you do). The posts are meant to be read in order--oldest first. But that's just a suggestion.
May 1987 Pusan, South Korea
I grew up in a small high-desert town of about 14,000 people. From the back window of our house I could see the night lights at the closest ski resort. My parents, on the other hand, grew up in Los Angeles very near the ocean. They both spent a lot of time at the beach and in the salty water. Me, not so much.
One day in class, I mentioned to my students that I wanted to get out of Pusan and see some scenery. One student offered to take a group of us to his hometown of 충무 in Kyoung Sang South Province. I jumped at the chance. A handful of us piled in a bus one weekend and headed to the seaside/countryside.
I don't remember much about the trip or the students who went along, but these 20-year old slides scanned to digital still capture the beauty of that day:
Nevertheless, I was there, and I did see it. And I was not expecting that.
Let's take a break here and finish up tomorrow: This looks like as good a place as any to dry the rice:
One time in Maui in 2005-ish, we took our 2-year old son to a Korean restaurant. We ordered full meals for ourselves, but only steamed rice for him. Oddly, the 아줌마 was very surprised by that. I was surprised that she was surprised. Sometimes I just can't help myself and I told her it was perfectly natural because the boy's father was a Korean farmer from 경상남도 in a previous life. She gave a look somewhere between shock, confusion, belief, and offended Christian sensibility. But all she could muster was:
I'm clearly not even a "Cosmopolitan."