Ahhh!!!

Alright- first of all, for those of you have fuzzy/poor memories of me, let me introduce myself. You may remember me as the girl certain to get carded in Montreal, of all places. And to insure that the rest of the group would also be carded. I am the one who was laughed at in a Calgary liquor store for even trying to buy beer-- at the age of 21. I am the one who served a table of Mexicans, who casually inquired about child labor laws in Canada. I am the one who, two weeks before making the big move to Korea, had co-workers asking if I were old enough to be working. Remember now? Okay then. Yesterday, for the first time in my life- I had someone honestly refer to me as old. Granted it was a six year old, but that is entirely beside the point. Me? Old? Could it be? It has taken me four months to get used to saying I am 25- but now that I have arrived in Korea, they tell me I'm 26. Just like that- in twelve hours, I lost a year of my life. To make matters worse, I have been informed that I have another birthday coming up on Lunar New Year. This is terrible!! I had only just come to grips with being 25, and soon I will turn 27? This may sound ridiculous to many of you, but let's face it- in all of our heads, there is a big difference between 25 and 27. 25 is comfortably mid-20's. 27 is late 20's headed into 30's. I'm not mature enough to be headed into my 30's!! A man on the subway the other day asked me why I would leave my country when I was of 'marrying age'- and I quickly informed him that in Canada we marry far later in life- perhaps a lie, as I silently listed my friends already there or well on their way, but there was no way I was going to admit to being of 'that age'. In any case, with all this in my head- I headed for the gym after work (I know what you're all thinking- how much money will I spend in my life on gym passes and never actually use them? This time is different, I swear.) and as I stretched, it occured to me that I had not done the splits since I was 18- and that had been 7 years (or 9 by Korean standards). And I tried, and I failed. In any case, all these thoughts were swirling in my head as I headed home. I stopped in quickly at Missha (Korean Body Shop), made my purchases that I hoped would make me feel youthfully 25... but my plan failed as I headed for the door and the saleswoman passed me a free sample of anti-wrinkle cream. You can just imagine what a case I was last night.

Ah yes, and another thing about being old and white in Korea. First, the kids had a fascination with the food I eat at lunch. They made fun of me- "Everyday teacher, sandwich! Everyday teacher, sushi! Everyday, everyday!" Then, it was my eyes- "Why round, teacher? Why blue, teacher?" Then, my hair. Now their attention has not so politely narrowed in on my breasts. I can't say I wasn't warned about this, I just never thought it would happen to me. I had two kids try to stick their hands down my shirt yesterday and another one, just grabbed them and asked why I was big on top, but not on the bottom. How do you explain that?

Anyway, enough ranting- and moving quickly along... A realization suddenly hit me of the strangeness of the cultural differences between Canada and Korea. I continue to be amazed that after a month and a half in this country, I have yet to see any vandalism. No graffiti, no broken windows, no scratched windows on the subway. No Toby + Jessica = 4ever love. Nothing. The city, in many ways is immaculately clean, especially when you take into consideration there are over 10 million people here. This I'm sure comes down to respect. Koreans are a very respectful people. I dropped the photo album from my wallet in the bank two weeks ago- packed with pictures of family and friends- I didn't even realize it, went for lunch, and as I was about to walk into the school, a man handed me my photo album. He had been waiting outside the bank to give it back to me. This, we can all be perfectly sure, would never happen in Canada. The area outside the school is packed with bicycles from kids going to various schools in the building- none of them are locked up, and yet they are all there when the kids leave class to go home. It makes me laugh everytime, as I picture myself removing my tire and my seat to have a cup of coffee ten feet from where my bike is locked. On the other end of this however, is the passive politeness of Canadians in most situations. I have learned quickly that it's all about being aggressive in public. If you stand too far back in the line for the ATM, you'll be waiting all day, as people will push you aside and storm past you. If you let an old lady in front of you in the line for the subway, everyone else will follow just as quickly- and you'll be left standing there as the subway pulls away. And don't expect an apology if someone bumps into you on the street- even if they nearly knock you over. And this will happen even if you are the only one on the sidewalk.

In any event, this brings this week's rant to an end. I should probably clarify, in closing - since I realised I never explained, that Kimchee is the official food of Korea. Koreans have been eating it for thousands of years. It is traditionally cabbage fermented in a red pepper paste- and it is eaten with every meal- including breakfast. It is incredibly spicy- and smelly. And at some point- some very vengeful English teacher put some in the fridge of my apartment, and it is impossible to remove the smell. This is one of many reasons that I dream of Kimchee.

Kimchee. Smelly and hot. There are festivals dedicated to kimchee, and scientific studies conducted to prove that kimchee is a superior food. Koreans believe that kimchee is the reason SARS never hit here... but they choose to ignore the high instances of stomach cancer.

And lastly, yes I did promise pictures- and I even figured out how to get them on this computer- unfortunately all the prompts to put them into this blog are in Korean and I don't know how to do it... so hopefully there will soon be pictures...