On the campaign trail

Hello, my name is Park SangHong, 2-가. Please take this card. Thank you.

Wait. That's not me. Sorry. Let me start again.

Greetings, sentient life-forms! It's easy to forgot how you're supposed to talk to people when you've spent your last two months on the campaign trail. For those of you who don't know, MyungSoo's father, SangHong, ran for Seodaemun district council. Seoul has 25 districts, known as a gu, each with their own slew of elected officials. Seocho, where I work, and Gangnam, where I used to live, are some of the wealthiest gu's. Seodaemun district falls somewhere in the middle. It's not too rich, and it's not too poor. It's just right, really. And it's far enough away from the center of Seoul to make the people much nicer and nature much closer. A ten minute walk can get you to a hiking trail, and five minutes later you can completely forget that you're in the middle of a city of 10 million.

But I digress. MyungSoo's father ran for election, which, of course, meant that we were immediately signed up as volunteers. At the beginning of the campaign, I had no idea what was going on. Mr. Park would text me something along the lines of, "I miss you! Come over for lunch today!" So I'd come over for lunch, only to discover that lunch was delivery Chinese at campaign headquarters and the price of admission was agreeing to hand out business cards for the rest of the day. Politicians are tricky. Don't trust them ever.

Korea is very strict about who gets to work for political campaigns. Volunteers have to be over the age of 19 and must be registered with the election office, at which point they are given a special name tag that they have to wear at all times while campaigning. Family members are also allowed to campaign, but they still need a name tag. With three sons over the age of 19, Mr. Park had hit the campaigning jackpot. And so it was that the Park brothers found themselves involved in politics for the first time.
 Since I'm not a Korean citizen, I'm not legally allowed to campaign, so I spent most of my time following MyungSoo, bowing and thanking people whenever they took a business card.

No, really. I insist. Take it. Please. I have a lot. Like, my house is full of them. I can't sleep at night because I'm surrounded by SangHong's face.

You may be wondering why I was even part of the campaign. That was part of Mr. Park's devious strategy. First, the potential voter sees me. I smile. They smile back (who can resist the charming smile of a determined American girl), then Park introduces himself as the son of a candidate and hands over the business card before anyone can say no. Then we smile and bow and thank the voter together. If we were lucky, this would frequently devolve into a conversation something like this:
Voter: "Who's this?"
Park: "This is my fiancee."
Voter: "Wow, so pretty. What country?"
Me: "I'm American."
Voter: "You're so lucky! So who is this guy on the card?"
Park: "That's my father."
Voter: "He's so lucky too!"


SangHong was already famous in the community before his election. He's been a volunteer for the community for many years now and had friends everywhere (Literally everywhere. It's actually kind of creepy.). His reputation is perfect, and it just got better and better as the campaign continued and other candidates started pulling out dirty tricks. It wasn't long before our campaign became the one to beat.

I was a problem. Due to legal reasons, I was not allowed to campaign. However, voters clearly associated me with the SangHong campaign. One candidate sent a worker to follow me and take pictures of me in an attempt to catch me doing illegal activities. While campaigning from the back of a truck, we noticed a car following us. As they drove past, MyungSoo realized that the passenger had been filming me. After that, I had to stop campaigning on the truck. I wasn't the only target, though. Things got downright nasty one Sunday morning. MyungSoo was campaigning on a street corner with a bunch of other volunteers from different campaigns. Suddenly, a worker from the 1-나 candidate's campaign attacked the daughter of the 2-나 candidate. She accused the girl of being a prostitute and insisted she was there illegally. She tried to rip the girl's name tag away from her, all the while shouting profanities. MyungSoo stepped in and told her to calm down. She didn't. Meanwhile, another worker had called the police. By the time I showed up, the police were mediating between the two candidates, who were demanding apologies, while MyungSoo stood by as an official police witness. A few days later, the same candidate sent a volunteer to take pictures of MyungSoo's aunt. As a member of the family, she was allowed to campaign for her brother. However, no one recognized her, and assumed she was there illegally. The aunt became incredibly upset about such an invasion of privacy, and called her brother. Mr. Park arrived in all his wrath and demanded a public apology. He got it, by the way. The candidate apologized and deleted the pictures.

There is so much more I could talk about. I could talk about the campaign trucks. In order to reach the most number of people, candidates stand on trucks and drive slowly through the town, making campaign promises, while volunteers wave. I could talk about how every campaign is color-coded. Volunteers have special hats, gloves, umbrellas, etc. and stand together in the street holding signs and bowing to passersby. At the start of the campaign, which is legally limited to very short time period, candidates fight to get the best spots to place their banners. Mr. Park sent workers to hold his spot starting from 5 AM and kept someone there all day until midnight when the banner could finally be unfurled. Going to church on Sunday is like running a gauntlet because every candidate sends people to stand outside every major church. Mr. Park kept trying to encourage me to go to Mass at the large Catholic church in the neighborhood. MyungSoo and I politely declined because it was an incredibly ugly church and it's pretty tacky to switch churches for political reasons.

Remember that time Mr. Park forced us to dance to Gangnam Style at the neighborhood singing contest? Turns out that someone took a picture and decided to use this as part of our campaign.

The election board posts pictures of all the candidates together so that voters can see their options.

The campaign truck. These things are so awesome.

On the night of the election, we all gathered at campaign headquarters to watch the results come in. It was a big election, as the post of Seoul city mayor was up for grabs, a position that in some ways is even more powerful than that of the president's. The results didn't come in until around midnight, but they were exactly what we wanted. Sweet, sweet victory. Mr. Park made a short speech and gave flowers to his family. KwangSoo, MyungSoo's younger brother, got special thanks. He suspended his semester just to help his father and rarely complained, even when he should have. Then a bunch of enthusiastic adjusshis got their hands on champagne, and sprayed everyone and everything. Poor MinSoo had to clean it up.

Victory and champagne!

Funeral Rites

Two years ago, Park's grandfather died. I hadn't met Park yet at this point, so I never had the opportunity to meet the man. However, I was able to come just a bit closer to him this past weekend. There's a Korean tradition, which is Buddhist in origin, in which the family prepares a giant meal for the soul of the deceased each year on the day before the anniversary of their death. Traditionally, this meal includes more than thirty different dishes and is served at midnight.

The rite is usually done at home, so we drove out to Yesan, where Park's grandmother still lives alone. She's one of those stubborn ladies who refuses to quit working, despite old age and the chronic pain that accompanies it. She's a very humble woman and a devout Buddhist. This weekend was also Golden Week, a time during which almost all schools and companies are closed, so, unfortunately, the roads were hellish and terrible. Park and I left Seoul at 10 AM via train and arrived in Yesan shortly before. Park's mother and brothers left Seoul at 7 AM via car and arrived at 2 PM. I hate driving in Korea. Upon arrival, Park's father picked us up, and we went to the traditional market to buy all of the ingredients. Traditional markets are so exciting. There's every type of food imaginable. Fresh vegetables and fruits, still covered in the dirt from the farm; live octopuses and crabs climbing over each other, clams squirting water in every direction; a table sagging under the weight of freshly plucked chickens, their owner wielding a large knife, ready to carve them up to order; strange fish that look like alien face-huggers, medium-sized sharks, and dried anchovies; every type of kimchi; flowers and vegetable plants for one's own garden; and dog. Yes, there was someone selling dog meat. That was the first time I've ever seen dog for sale. It did not look appealing.

Blood sausage, anyone?

Formal stores are for wimps. Real shoppers do it on the street.

Fresh fish, owned by a lady who really knew how to use a knife.

Anyway, after buying our ingredients, we headed back to the house and proceeded to cook. It was like cooking for Chuseok, except there seemed to be even more of it. I chopped things, fried things, took a nap, then fried more things. I don't know how the other members of the family were able to keep working without keeling over. In fact, the other ladies of the family made me look like a downright wimp. By 10 PM, everything was finally ready.

While the ladies of the family cooked the food, the men's responsibility was to arrange the food. Presentation and quantity are very important in the rite. Red foods are arranged to the west, while white foods are arranged toward the east. Certain numbers must be avoided, such as the number four (the Chinese character for four is the same as the one for death, so four is a very unlucky number). Other numbers, such as three or five are considered lucky, though, so it is important to arrange the food in these quantities. Park's father did most of the arranging, until his grandfather's oldest brother's oldest son (the senior member of the family) showed up to help him. It's the responsibility of the oldest man in the family to manage family rites, so he's the expert in this matter. They also spent a good deal of time showing Park's oldest brother, JeongSoo how to arrange the food, since it will be his responsibility eventually.

Mr. Park, cutting the watermelon. I'm not sure why, but it's important to cut the tops off.

Mr. Park arranging the fried stuff. See those? I helped make those. All 300 of them.

Grandmother Park cutting up some kind of pancake. Notice the fancy bowls and plates. Those are only used for the rite.

Almost all of the dishes.

The small table in front is important, as you will soon hear.

Once the food was finally prepared and arranged, they placed a small bowl on the table in front of the food and lit some incense. The incense is meant to tell the the spirit that it's time to come over for his meal. Once the family was assembled, it was time to start. Every bowed 2 times to ground and once at the waist. Then, the senior member of the family knelt in front of the table holding a cup. Another family member pored alcohol into the cup, not all at once, but three times. Then the man holding the cup passed it around the incense three times. Everyone bowed 2.5 times again, and then we left the room. The belief is that while everyone is out of the room, the spirit of the deceased can come eat his meal. After a short time, we came back. The alcohol on the table was poured out, and we repeated the process of pouring alcohol again and bowing. Each family member, from highest to lowest held the cup and passed it around the incense three times, then bowed. Since I'll soon be part of the family, I was also allowed to participate. However, Park did all of the cup-holding, since he's a man. Some might find that discriminatory or old-fashioned, but I think there's a sort of dignified beauty about it. When everyone was finished, the rite was over. The huge upside of all Korean traditions is the food. Grandfather Park was done with his meal, so now it was up to the living to enjoy it.

I love the idea of the funeral rites. I think it's a beautiful way for a family to remember their deceased parents and grandparents by getting together and praying for their souls. And, most importantly, it's a rite that also sees to the needs of the living. Once the rite is over, everyone who helped prepare it gets to eat. If you don't see your family often, it's also a way of making sure that you regularly do see each other.

The next day, we returned to Seoul, laden down with rice cakes, fruit, and lots of fried goodies. We also stopped off at the vacation home of a politically significant guy that Park's father wanted to meet with. I think it's okay to mention now that Park's father is running for Seodaemun district council. We've been helping out his campaign by passing out his business cards, going to meetings, and introducing ourselves to everyone under the sun. I've become the campaign mascot. It's sort of embarrassing, actually. I do a lot of awkward smiling and bowing as Mr. Park proudly introduces me as his future daughter and everyone marvels at "the American". Anyway, this was one of those meetings. The guy and his wife own a beautiful vacation home in the countryside, where they have frequent barbeque parties for their friends and acquaintances. I wish I could do that too. That sounds like an awesome retirement. As we made our way toward the food table, I was in for a shock. Lying on the carving board was...dog. And next to it was a giant cauldron of spicy dog soup. Fortunately, there was also pork available. We opted for the pork.

On Being Happily Engaged

For the longest time, I couldn't think of anything to write. Then spring came, and my desire to be in front of a computer diminished rapidly. But now I'm back at last because I can finally write about what I've been dying to share for months now. Park and I are engaged! Officially!

The whole purpose of our trip to America, though my parents had no idea, was for Park to ask them if we could get married. Despite being an unconventional sort, I feel very strongly about marriage traditions. So when Park first brought up the possibility of marriage months and months ago, I was initially terrified, and then told him he had to ask my parents first before I would say yes. This gave me the extra time to really pray, consider, and discuss with various friends and priests the true implications of marriage. Of course, Park's sincerity and determination eventually won me over, and one night in Virginia, over homemade apple pie, he asked my parents if he could marry me. My dad was smiling and nodding before Park had even finished. My mom was pleased, but also shocked. This is so soon, she cried! But, in the end, she said yes too. Just as Park won me over with sincerity and determination, so too did he win over my parents (though I'm sure they were also charmed by his cooking and cleaning skills and his expertise in the handling of firearms). My brothers had already suspected the purpose of our visit, so they just assumed Park would eventually join our family. As they also approved of him (he is very skilled in the handling of children), we came back to Korea full of confidence in our future prospects.

However, being a traditional sort, as I said, I wanted an official proposal. Perhaps I am vain. Too bad. I wanted to be able to tell everyone about the exact moment when Park asked me to marry him. I not only got an official proposal, but also a beautiful ring. Park designed it himself, and a jeweler friend of his mother's made it. They gave Park a nice discount and inserted a larger diamond than the one he had paid for. Even though Park just got a job, we're both very limited financially, so it was a wonderful surprise.

Behold it's golden glimmering!

Because Easter is my favorite holiday (How could Christ's victory over death NOT be your favorite holiday), Park had planned on proposing over dinner. However, we spent most of the day lazily eating chocolate, ice cream, and vast quantities of meat while watching Ben Hur, so the moment didn't seem right. So the next day, he came over after work with some candles and a bottle of wine and I made the leftover steak wrapped in bacon from our Easter Sunday festivities. Yes, I cried. Yes, I stayed up until 3 AM calling various friends and family members to relate the news.

Now you all probably have questions. Here are some answers.

Where will the wedding be?
We were originally hoping to have a Melkite wedding at my home church, Holy Transfiguration Melkite Greek Catholic Church, but the logistics of planning a wedding while not physically there, of flying to the US to get married, then immediately flying back, and of paying for all of this while still paying off student loans was too daunting to think about. Yes, we could probably save up all the money and make it work, but we would probably have to save for several years. The first bit of advice my priest gave me was to not be engaged for more than a year. I'll take that advice. So, the wedding will be in Seoul, Korea! No idea yet which church we'll use, though.
Also, if you just despaired because that is so far away, fear not! We'll have a vow renewal ceremony in the US the next time we're over there so that everyone can come. 

Edit: Just kidding, folks! It's going to be at Holy Transfiguration in McLean, VA! Your dreams of crashing our wedding can finally come true!

When will the wedding be?
 Not really sure yet. Hopefully, this year. We're waiting on a few factors before we decide. Those factors include the results of the upcoming Seodaemun district council election in June, in which Park's father is running for a seat (I've been helping with the campaign. Lots of bowing, handing out cards, and smiling while I'm introduced as the future daughter-in-law. I'm sort of like the campaign mascot), and whether or not Park's family decides to follow the old tradition in which the oldest son needs to be married first before the younger ones can marry. I'm a huge fan of tradition, but, in this case, I hope they decide to set this one aside. If all goes well, Park and I will be married before this year is over.

Edit: Hurray, we have a date! January 2nd, 2015. 

Where will you live?
Park just got a job with a Korean company. I have a very specific skill set that enables me to easily get a job in Korea. Even if I left my current job, I wouldn't have to spend very long looking for a new one. So, yes, we will be in Korea for at least another year or two. However, we do plan to come to US eventually! For a long time, Park's dream has been to live and work in the US. We want to start our own business and make a life together. Right now, that life will start in Korea, where we can hopefully save up money for future investments.
As for a house, the Korean tradition is for the groom's family to buy a house for the new couple. Park's father had the foresight to buy houses for each of his four sons, and he manages them by renting them out. When we get married, we can move into our very own house. As is to be expected, that house is only about a ten minute walk from Park's parents. Quality time with the in-laws!

What do his parents think of you?
A lot of people mistakenly think that Park's parents would be suspicious of a foreigner bride who has charmed her way into the heart of their beloved son and who doesn't even speak Korean. Park's parents love me! Aside from the stream of text messages asking me to hang out, go shopping, or eat dinner together, they also send me frequent gifts. When I moved into my new apartment, Park's father came over with a year's supply of toilet paper (A truly life-saving gift. Seriously). When I was low on cash, Park's mother sent me a bag of rice from their grandmother's rice farm and a huge supply of sweet potatoes. When I told her I liked her kimchi, she sent me a huge tupperware of the stuff. Even though we can't easily talk to each other, there has never been a time when I felt unwelcome at their house. Park's family is incredibly kind and generous.
Of course, Park's mother was suspicious at first. There are plenty of dumb foreigners who come to this country looking for an easy hook-up. But then Park told his mother that I am Catholic, and she instantly relaxed. Even though his family isn't religious, they love Catholics. Catholics have a great reputation in Korea. The Church does a lot of good works and their love of tradition sets them apart from the often abrasive and over-zealous Protestants. Possibly because of this, Catholics and Buddhists usually have a good relationship, meaning that the older generation, who are mostly Buddhist, also like Catholics. It's a wonderful dynamic. This is probably also why Park's Buddhist grandmother didn't mind his conversion to Catholicism.

Will you wear a hanbok at your wedding?
Yes. I love hanbok. I have been dreaming of getting a hanbok ever since I first saw one. The usual tradition is for the bride and groom to wear Western style wedding attire for the actual wedding ceremony and then to change into hanbok for a second ceremony afterwards, in which they bow to their parents. So I assume Park and I will also do that.

Your children will be beautiful. 
That's not a question. But, yes, I know.  And, God willing, we will have many of them.

How does this whole citizenship thing work?
Honestly, I haven't looked into it much yet. But apparently, I can get a dual citizenship. Park, unfortunately, cannot. He wants to keep his Korean citizenship, though, so when we do move to the US, he'll just get permanent residency. As for our children, they'll have both. Unfortunately for the boys, that means that if they want to keep their Korean citizenship, they'll have to do their two years of Korean army service. I'm okay with that.

Do you ever have trouble communicating?
Of course, just like every couple ever, we sometimes have trouble communicating. But then language and culture make that even more difficult. Park will be the first to admit that his English isn't perfect, and my Korean is so abysmal that I can barely stutter out a few lines of conversation before running out of things to say. When we first started dating, we did have a lot of culture-related miscommunications. I constantly worried if we would be able to understand each other. But after awhile, I realized that my fears were unfounded. When you base your communication upon mutual trust, that trust can make up for any linguistic failures. That, and spending as much time together learning about how the other person thinks and feels. When my mom met Park for the first time, she was astonished to discover how well we compliment each other. Anyone who's married will tell you that good communication is key to a good relationship. We've worked really hard to make sure we have that.

How does Park feel about America?
Park thinks America is pretty cool. He especially enjoys the variety of each state and region. American food is awesome, he says.

How did you meet?
At a hookah bar in Gangnam, which goes by the name of Rainbow. One could best describe it as a dimly-lit dungeon with marijuana-inspired decor that smells like incense and hookah smoke. On weekends, they have live music and psychedelic DJs as well as bongo drums for the musically-inclined. You take off your shoes and sit at your hookah with your drink and enjoy the feeling of being in Seoul but completely outside of it. At least, that was our plan. No sooner had Sarah and I sat down, when a young Korean man came over and asked if he and his friend could talk to us. He added that they would pay for out hookah and drinks. We said yes. This young man was, of course, Park. Later that night, after going to karaoke, Park walked me home. About twenty minutes later, he texted me to ask me out on a date. I was charmed by his honesty (raise you hand if you hate it when guys ask to "hang out" when you know they really want to go on a date but are too afraid to ask because they're worried you'll say no), so I accepted.
The true humor of our story, though, is the reason why Park was there. Earlier in the evening, Park and his friend SungPyo had been drinking together, when SungPyo said he wanted to go to a hook-up bar, a bar where one meets girls, essentially. SungPyo called up a friend, who recommended Rainbow. But Rainbow is not a hook-up bar. It is a hookah bar. Upon arriving, the two friends realized their mistake, but were still determined to salvage the evening. After losing at rock-paper-scissors, Park was sent over to our table to initiate conversation. The rest is history.

Here's to a good future.

I realize that many of my friends haven't been able to meet Park, and that makes me sad. But never fear. He's every bit the gentleman. I hope one day everyone will know that from experience.

Final note: I never dreamed in a million years that this would be my life. When I started this blog, I thought I would be in Korea for one year, share my experiences, and go home again to do something else. I don't want to turn all preachy on you, but, seriously, you never know where God will take you next. Don't count on anything. Don't plan too much. I'm so glad this is my life.

Things My Students Say: Part...3?

It's been a long time since I sad down to write things my students say. After you hear broken English for awhile, you start to get used to it, and you forget how funny it can be. See here are some things that my students have said recently.

I'm going to murder whoever chose the reading passages for the Alba + class. This is a high-level English class for students on the cusp of fluency. And, according to the logic behind this class, they are also mature enough to discuss topics like homosexuality. ...No. No, they are not. They are middle schoolers. To a middle schooler, everything and everyone is gay and it's the funniest thing in the world. Here are some common conversations that occurred after reading a passage about discrimination.

Student 1: "Teacher, what does faggot mean?" (Yes, the word faggot was in the book.)
Me: "Uh...It is a very rude word that refers to gay people. Please don't ever say it, or someone will kill you."
Student 1 turns to friend: "Haha, you are faggot."
Student 2: "Why you look at me? You are faggot!"
Student 1: "No, you!"
Student 2: "No, you!"
Student 3: "Shut up! You are making me crazy!"

And another time...

Student: "Teacher, what does infidelity mean?"
Me: "It means leaving your husband or wife for someone else."
Student: "Like windy?"
Me: "Yes, like windy." (The idea is that the wind travels quickly. So a cheater moves like the wind from person to person.)
Student: "Teacher, what will you do if MyungSoo is infidelity?"

In fact, my students have an obsession with MyungSoo...

"Teacher, how you meet MyungSoo? At bar?"
"Teacher, is MyungSoo windy?"
"Teacher, you have ex-boyfriend?? Does MyungSoo know? Maybe if you tell him, he will be angry and leave you."
"Aaah teacher, MyungSoo too handsome. Did he get plastic surgery?"
"Teacher, how does MyungSoo smell?"
"Teacher, you get married with MyungSoo?"

CTP, also know as Critical Thinking Project, also known as Chungdahm Terror Project is a great time to bring out students' creativity and also a good way to release energy. But you also get really strange things.

Student: "We made alien today. This alien is very intelligent. It has high IQ and if you take your problem to it, it will help you solve your problem. This animal species is called Theresa. But there is a problem. Many Theresa have dirty mind. They like to smoke and drink and not take shower except once a month. So, stay away from Theresa that has dirty mind."

Student: "Today, we made a game. This game is called Gangster Theo. In this game, you are like GTA guy and you can kill gangster Theo with any number of weapons. We chose umbrella. Now we will show you how to play the game." They then spent the next minute hitting one boy with an umbrella while the rest of the class cheered. At the end, they all bowed (except for the dead boy.) "Thank you for listening our CTP. Please buy our game. It is very fun."

And now for other things...

"Teacher, you have Macbook Pro 13 inches!!! Please give me!!!"

A student noticed all the cat scratches on my arms. "Teacher, you try to suicide????"

"Teacher, I want to eat your cat."

"Teacher, I didn't do my homework. Sorry."
Me: Why didn't you do it."
"I was lazy. I played a game instead. It was more fun."

I told my students about the awesome game, Bioshock. One student decided to turn this into a pun.
"Wow, that is so...BIOSHOCKING."
"I am surprised. I am BIOSHOCKED."
"I like violent things because they are BIOSHOCK."

And now for the best part...

The CTP that day was to create a disease and its cure, then discuss how the side-effects of the drug or the symptoms of the disease could affect the daily life of a person. It was complicated, but they did a fantastic job. But then this happened...

AND THEN BUGS COME OUT OF YOUR BODY

Kid, what the hell is this?

Back from America

And we're back! Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to the Theresa Show, your favorite non-regularly-updated blog about a girl, her boyfriend, and her cat traversing the wilds of Seoul, a gripping tale of love, betrayal, sloth, and hunger. When last we saw our heroes, they were in the throes of winter and the perils and pitfalls of teaching. Let's see what they're up to now.

Probably something really cool and international.

I was having a hard time finding things to write about. Park and I spent about six weeks in America, and, while it was tons of fun, I just didn't feel like writing about it. America is America. It's sort of homey, quite comfortable, and all of my family and many of my friends reside there, but it's not very exciting blog material. Most of our time was spent visiting family (and most of that time with family was spent wrestling with small children) or eating those American foods you only crave when you aren't in America. For instance, I couldn't get done eating cheese. Cheese was either on my mind, in my mouth, or in my hand on its way to my mouth. A lot of frozen pizza also found its way into my stomach, which was quickly followed by numerous unique and beautiful craft beers. Korea needs to step up its beer game. I'm tired of watery Cass and paying ten dollars for a glass of Guinness. Park and I also did a lot of cooking. Everyone in the family had to try Korean food, after all. Some of these attempts came out great. Others were merely passable. For instance, I thought Korean markets were everywhere, but it turns out I was just spoiled by Northern Virginia. There are zero Korean markets in the Boston area. Kansas City actually has more Asian grocery stores than Massachusetts. Score one for the Midwest. My family was baffled and delighted by the taste of kimchi, and my father discovered that spicy soft tofu soup or any spicy ramyeon is an excellent cure for a stuffy nose. Park also experienced his very first Arico Christmas, which meant baking lots of cookies, decorating the tree on Christmas Eve, and going to Liturgy at Holy Transfiguration. I think he did quite well with it all. And, of course, my dad took him shooting because this is America and that's what we do.

Freedom.

So then back to Korea we headed! After all that time in the US, we were ready to go. There was just one problem. Back when I optimistically booked our tickets, I had thought that a nice romp through Japan on our way back would be great. Foolish Theresa. We ran out of money. We ran out of money and didn't have a way to get back to Korea. A few nights before departing America, we set out to find lodgings and a ticket, any ticket that would get us back to Seoul. Park, with his great skills of research and an endless well of patience, was able to find us plane tickets at last. We spent one day in Tokyo, stayed at a really cheap but pleasant ryokan (traditional Japanese hotel), and generally enjoyed that one day. We were incredibly jetlagged, though, so our day lasted until about 4 PM before we crashed and burned, awaking at 10 PM, hungry and disoriented. We had limited funds so we filled our stomachs with the plunder from a convenience store.

I must confess that I committed a grave sin. When I was in my youth, I developed a (still very much alive) passion for anime. Naturally, when I heard to Akihabara, the mecca of otaku culture, I wanted to go there. How cool, I thought, would it be to have coffee and cake at a maid cafe. How cool, I thought, would it be to try on cosplay outfits or to browse obscure collections of elsewhere unavailable products. So when we arrived in Tokyo, I took Park to Akihabara. I am so sorry. I am so so so so sorry. Neither of us were prepared for the onslaught of animated boobs, for the cute Japanese girls gently coaxing us inside their maid cafes, for the unwashed masses slobbering over AKB48 (there was an entire eight-story building dedicated to the pop group), or the sketchy buildings labeled "men only". I had a blast. I could at least understand some of what was going on, but poor Park's heart was broken.

The panic, the vomit.

Not to mention that everyone thought he was Japanese. People kept trying to talk to him. A Buddhist priest even tried to lure us inside his temple before we awkwardly explained that we couldn't understand him, that we weren't Japanese, and that we were actually Catholic so this partnership wasn't going to work out so well anyway.

Speaking of temples, we did manage to visit the famous one in Asakusa. Park thought it was very strange. Korea has a large Buddhist population, and Park's grandparents are Buddhist, so he is very familiar with Buddhism. However, Japanese Buddhism has added Shinto into the mix. So, for example, you could walk into a temple and find yourself face to face with a Shinto shrine and a statue of Buddha, occupying the same blessed ground and attracting the same exact accolades. It's one of the many cool things about Japan.

Check out that gate!

 So the next morning came, and we set out for home at last. Park's family didn't know we were coming home on that day, so they were pretty shocked. We all went out for barbeque with the family and then spent the night at the sauna. There's nothing like a Korean sauna to wipe away the stress of travel. And in case anyone was wondering about the cat, Park's family watched him. He was an unholy terror at first, stealing food and scratching the innocent, and I still feel guilty for inflicting him on them, but I think they all found peace by the end. Anyway, he's back at my house now.

iPad cat