Of Super Bowls and Shoving

On Saturday, I think I felt the baby move for the first time, and my belly decided to pop out. Literally, it looked just like it did in the picture from a few blog posts ago, and Saturday morning, I woke up and it looked like this (I'm 19 weeks along):

My last couple weeks on semi-house-arrest have been filled with trying new recipes, taking care of our house, reading, resting (I have a cold, and pregnancy makes it hard to sleep all night), chatting with people back home, and researching childbirth (I’m getting into the whole natural thing; you can ask if you want more details).

Why am I on semi-house-arrest? Well, read my last post about how un-walkable the base is when it’s so cold and when pregnancy means I get tired often.

But my days are punctuated by errands and chores and activities I choose for myself, like making whole wheat banana bread. I’ve decided it’s pretty fun to chill at home, for now.

And my weeks are punctuated by weekends (and some weeknights) exploring with Joe.

Last Sunday, we even got to meet some new family. This time it was a young mom, Serin, who is perhaps two or three years older than I am, as well as her mother. But Serin is actually Joe’s mom’s cousin… so generational respect means he calls her “Immo”—aunt. So our baby would call her four-year-old son “Samchun”—uncle. And Serin’s mom, who seems closer to Joe’s and my parents’ age, Joe calls “Halmonee”—grandma.

But Serin teaches English at the exact university where I’ll take up Korean next month, which was a big surprise! This means I got to be part of our conversation over a delicious lunch (since it was partially in English), but more importantly, this means I’ll have a friend to meet for coffee after classes. I’ve been praying for good friendships and community here, and I know it takes time, but a coincidence like this makes me remember to trust God to help put community together!

While we were out with Serin, I saw this restaurant with a nonsensical name, and it made me laugh. I want to know the delicious of beef's story! Don't you?

That Monday morning, I woke up just in time for the Super Bowl. Yes, the big game was on Monday morning here. There was a party at the grill & bar on base that started at 6am (kickoff was 8:30am and the military had the day/morning off), but I decided to stay home in my PJs.

After some pre-game video chatting with my family, who had all gathered for festivities at my parents’ house, I spent the time watching the commercials online (commercials on the Armed Forces Network were silly ones submitted by soldiers, as well as public service announcements and clips of Super Bowl players and coaches saying thank you to the troops), glancing at the game on our TV, and piddling around on Facebook.

I don’t care about football, but I found myself really enjoying the Super Bowl. It wasn’t because of the commercials or the close Giants win, but—I realized—because I was doing the same thing at the same time as almost everyone I know back in the States.

It’s silly, I know, but I felt connected. It’s the little things.

This weekend Joe and I had some errands to run south of the Han River. Seoul, Like D.C., is bisected by water. Unlike D.C., the region of Seoul below the river is completely swankified. Nice malls, nice restaurants, and TONS AND TONS of plastic surgery clinics, like this one labeled on a map in the subway (want a small face?).

Plastic surgery is HUGE here. Huge. Eyelid surgery is the most common, I hear. Some Koreans naturally have eyelids that come down, but many (most?) don't. It's become a sign of beauty here, though, so many, many people have the surgery. Here's a before-and-after image I got from Google:



Joe's grandmother even suggested he get it! (...no thank you...) But as you can see, Joe is quite happy as he is.


There are countless other surgeries popular here, from rounding the eyes to changing the nose (to look more western) to face peels to botox. I can't imagine the pressure to look beautiful young men and women must be under here.

Other than plastic surgery joints, the area south of the river has fun areas for restaurants (with a propensity for interesting names, as always—don't you want to go to The Ho Bar?)
and fancy malls, which are rife with ads stringing random English words together.




Have I mentioned that Seoul is crowded? The malls, the subways, the alleyways, the markets, the food courts, everywhere: SO. MANY. PEOPLE.

(You can guess how much I stand out with my blonde hair...)

Which leads to a cultural difference Americans find particularly aggravating: There is no personal space.

And this is the nice way to say it.

What I mean is, in a crowd, Americans will move aside for people passing, cover their mouths when they cough (!!), wait in line without pushing forward (usually) and all around try not to touch people around them—unless they are trying to start a fight. Koreans? Not so. Even the old ladies will just push right through, even if there's space to go around.

I had one person triple bump me trying to pass me while I was walking. I mean, really? You have to bump me THREE times in a row? Just ask me to move aside, or go around me!

Joe says there's not really a way people say "pardon me" in Korean to ask to squeeze by. At least not that he's heard of. So I'm learning to be rude, by American standards. If I don't want to be pushed around, I have to just look like I own the road.

(Safety note: Never practice this on an actual road in Korea, since cars will not stop for pedestrians. Or red lights.)

For example, Joe and I ordered and paid at a bustling food court and began to look for seats. And we looked. And looked. And looked. Everyone was hovering over tables that looked ready to clear, and everyone was pushing past us to get to available spots. Our little buzzers went off saying our food was ready, but we were still searching, searching.

Finally, I went to the counter to grab my tray and decided I was on a mission. I WOULD sit down. Hot food in hand and beware-of-hungry-pregnant-woman expression on my face, I just trucked through the crowd confidently... and guess what? People moved aside for me to pass! Breakthrough!

Then, last night Joe and I were standing on a crowded subway, right next to the door between cars, and I was holding on to the only bar available. A woman in her 50s, chatting on her cell phone, walked up looking like she was going to pass through the door to the subway car behind (that's allowed here). So I moved aside briefly for her to pass, and guess what? She stood right in front of my bar and just stayed there, talking on her phone! She wasn't even using the bar; she just made me move so she could stand there at the end of the car and talk. This wasn't a teenager; it was a grown woman.

So, newly-found rudeness in hand, I just reached in front of her and grabbed my bar again. She shifted, no problem, and got out of my way.

Sigh.

On the lighter side, here's another fun English-ism for your entertainment. It is a pack of 8.5' x 11' stickable cloths. Cool idea for crafting, but misguided advertising:

"Kind & homely. Knows how to listen a part of daily, Well-mannered, your comma. daily like..."