Just another blonde drifting through a sea of yellow...

This past weekend I traveled to Yangsu-Ri, South Korea. YANG-what??? Well according to some, this is the “romantic” getaway of Seoul. It is approximately 45 minutes outside of the city by subway…and worth all the hustle.

How did I end up there? I traveled with my trusty Kentuckian, Miss what-do-you-call-a-girl-with-no-legs…Eileen. Invited to a homecoming party of friends from college, Eileen took the bold initiative to drag me along. And glad I am she twisted my arm. Here’s why:

1) I got far away from screaming Korean games shows.

2) My host mom cleaned my room, folded my laundry, and put it away while I was gone.

3) I ate hummus and chocolate fondue (with PINEAPPLE). Two of my favorite things on the planet.

4) I got free beer in the supermarket. Indeed I photographed this extraordinary moment. The moment in which all was right about me and Korea and my purpose in life. I made a “beer loop,” wherein I circuited ALL the obnoxiously fantastic “Cass” beer representatives to sufficiently wet my palette.

5) I met new people. White people. Non-creepy white people (believe it or not, this is difficult to do so in South Korea). I had real conversation. Conversation that extended beyond what type of Korean food I like and the color of my shirt.

6) I got Jehovah Witnessed. Yes, you heard that right. While shopping in the subway (totally actually legit and quite common), two girls kindly strolled up and commented on the color of the sweater I was holding. Mustard yellow—no doubt a great choice on my end (it’s my favorite color besides orange). SO anyways, I am thinking these kind Korean girls are just taking advantage of a prime opportunity to socialize with an unassuming foreigner and put their English to practice. No sweat off my back. That is until one reached into her bag, pulled out some “reading material”—that I saw the “AWAKE!” plastered on the front—and I am no dummy to these folks, I have read this pr propaganda before. You know the rest. Yes, they are everywhere, even in the Republic of Korea.

7) I saw about eight more people sportin’ Tribe gear. For the misinformed, that’s Cleveland Indians. Let me just set the record straight: based solely on mascot representation, the Cleveland Indians have the largest fan base in South Korea. No kidding, they outnumber Yankees immeasurably.

8) I ate delicious kimbab followed by a delightful Baskin-Robbins’ Jamocha Almond Ice Cream Waffle Cone. Eileen ordered some yogurt sensation and got free candy-flavored “face primer."

9) I learned what the symbol for a Korean “love motel” looks like. Now I come prepared.

10) I didn’t have to hear the obnoxious grinding, slurping, and sucking of food bits being chomped and digested by those joining me at the dinner table. The loud eating habits of those I dine with have slowly seeped in my consciousness and this awareness is not subsiding any time soon.

11) I did not have to read an English “journal” at 8:30 a.m. to make corrections for my host family. Only to end up baffled over the use of “gotten” and “got” in the present tense. English is not something to be dissected…just understood. Please, that’s all I’m good for—I am not full of answers. Also, since my host mother is learning English through watching seasons of "Friends," I did not have to endure watching another episode and explaining Phoebe's quirky and bizarre statements. You find that not everything has an answer once someone starts asking.

12) I confirmed what I thought to be true: Koreans love fortune-tellers. Booths are plopped disjointedly in between food vendors selling hotdogs covered not in buns (as one would imagine) but instead a beautiful conglomeration of fried potatoes, or better known as French Fries. Yes, I bought one. The temptation was far too nagging for me to resist. So much for losing weight while in Korea (as some literature alluded would be the case….).

Let me review some Korean cultural elements that I encountered:

1) Staring is A-OKAY. Even in Seoul, I am an anomaly. However, what haunted me as one of my least appreciated God-granted facial features in high school, my appropriately coined, “Jay Leno chin,” is a highly desired facial feature in Korea. There are even devices (torture devices perhaps) that are used to readjust the shape of the face to create a stronger jaw line with greater defined lines—also known as the “V-Line.” Let me illustrate:

Today in class my students, boys no doubt, pointed to my face and said “Real?’

Me: “Real?” Point to face. Make question gesture with hands. “You mean make-up?”

Ss: “No, no…” “This…”—point to chin and face. “Real?”

Still confused, another student exclaims (after searching dictionary nonetheless), “SURGERY?!”

Me: Laugh. “No, no. All Real. Good?”

Ss: “Yes, good, good. Like, like.” Touch face.

Me: “V-line?” Stroke chin.

Ss: OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! “Teacher know V-line!”

Me: “Yes, and S-curve?”

SS: WHAAAAAA! (Korean “WHOA”)

2) For more interesting “LINES” aka—“S- line”—what Westerners know as the hourglass figure or “W- line”---aka cleavage…check out this great source I found. Really—I couldn’t have explained it better myself.S Lines Explained here...

3) On similar lines, my friend Eileen was also teased for being rather “ghostly” in appearance. Yet, in Korea her white, nearly translucent skin is highly desired. While in America women use cream or lotion to darken the appearance of their skin, Korean women utilize beauty products for the exact opposite—to achieve the whitest, ghost-like appearance man can produce.

4) This is a conservative culture; thus, shoulders are almost always covered in professional settings, as well as, low-cut shirts are forbidden. However, and this is something of constant amusement, short skirts are given the green light. Exposed, muscle-less, heel-clad legs are all the rage in South Korea. Maybe not in the professional setting, but women do opt for minimal attire on the bottom to be rivaled with sloppy, oversized, shoulder-hiding shirts above. Just one of many dichotomies in this increasingly bizarre culture.

I hope you are amused. Even in the slightest bit. If not this last bit of my life experience will surely do the trick:

Where: Monday

When: last period of the day

Who: 40 sweaty, screaming seventh graders

What: sexually harassed by those sly little monsters.

How: At the beginning of class, I felt two students slightly brush my behind with their hand. I figured, hmmm it feels like they just grabbed my butt—geesh this classroom is way too small. Strange, but I vouched for the good of the students and blamed it on the small parameters of the classroom. BUT, at the end of class, 3 students purposely walked very close behind me and not only did they brush by, I felt this hand appear on my tush and the fingers sprawled out to capture some of my essence. Before I realized what was happening, the bell had rung and the students zipped out of the classroom. The best part is…the crime goes unpunished because I do not know a single name. And that’s how the story goes…