Early yesterday I popped down to the Myeongdeok subway station (about a 30 minute ride from where I live) to pick up a satchel of English language books, and then rode the subway back out to my corner of Daegu. I was feeling quite gleeful - I love to read, and one of the difficulties of living overseas is the fact that books in English are not always all that easy to come by - and was practically skipping down the street (probably with a foolish grin on my face), when I heard someone cry out, "Jane-teacher!" At the time, I was walking past the neighborhood primary school, which had just let out for the day (yep, Saturday classes, folks), and there were two of my students, waving shyly from across the street. I waved and called out a hello... and suddenly found myself mobbed by a huge pack of kids, none of whom I knew (my two students having slunk off in embarrassment). They all wanted to know my name, where I was from, and why I was in Korea (which was an interesting "conversation" in itself, as their English was roughly on par with my Korean), and a group of four girls followed me all the way to my apartment asking me questions like how old I was, where did I work, did I like Korea, did I have a boyfriend, was my apartment big or small, and did I have a family here in Korea. (They all seemed genuinely distressed to discover that I live alone.) It was an interesting interaction, although I really don't want to be stalked by a group of eleven year olds.
I retreated into the safety and solitude of my apartment inside the Yu compound, and was sorting through my newly collected books, when someone began knocking on my door. My first thought was that my elementary school fan club had gotten inside; my second thought was that Hee Soo had returned. I opened the door anyway, and was glad I did: there was Mrs. Yu, with a plate of food, inquiring as to whether or not I'd had lunch. I was quite glad I hadn't, as the dish she'd brought was delicious. I don't know what it's called (Korean experts, feel free to help me out!), although it seemed to be a Korean variant of spaghetti. In fact, the base of the dish was chilled spaghetti noodles, and it was topped with all sorts of yummy things: peppers, eggs, cucumbers, unitentifiable stuff, and seaweed. (I don't usually like seaweed, although in this dish it was excellent.) I seriously inhaled this plate of food, it was so delicious, then I washed the plate, took it downstairs, and thanked Mrs. Yu profusely. Here's a picture to whet your appetite:
Doesn't it look scrumptious? See it large here.
After lunch, I hopped back on the subway and headed off to E-Mart. I recently switched to a different brand of birth control (one that's easier to come by here in Korea than Ortho Cyclen), and my body has reacted by breaking out. Thanks a lot, body. I'm 28 years old; I should not be dealing with acne. Anyhow, I figured E-Mart, being so large and full of so many things, would be the best place to find some products to take care of this problem. I was pleased to discover that E-Mart now carries a whole line of Clean and Clear products - yippee! For those of you who have never shopped in an E-Mart (or in just about any Korean store) let me tell you a bit about the experience. Each aisle (or nearly each aisle) is staffed by a sales woman whose job is to encourage you to buy things. I really don't like feeling pressured to buy things in general, and the language barrier makes dealing with these women quite awkward. I have a tendency to sneak down their aisles when their backs are turned, and to scurry off as soon as they notice me. Unfortunately, I was unable to escape the clutches of the woman on the Clean and Clear aisle. Despite the fact that I was obviously interested in the acne treatment products, she decided that it was her mission to sell me some sort of baby powder scented body oil... she even managed to squirt some on my arm and rub it in thoroughly. Because you know I've always wanted to be slimy and smell strongly of baby powder. I smiled, said no thank you, and scurried away, but the damage was done - I was slick and scented. Sigh.
I returned home and deposited my purchases, and decided to take a stroll down to the bank (books and E-Mart having depleted my funds and all), and along the way, I discovered that a Kumdo competition in the neighborhood park. I decided to stop to watch and take pictures. It was very interesting, and made me wish that I were more coordinated. Unfortunately, a white girl can't do anything surreptitiously in Korea, and soon I was mobbed by kids - both participants in the competition and spectators - all of whom wanted to have the same sort of "conversations" which I'd had with those kids earlier in the day. While it is definitely endearing, it also can get somewhat annoying. I just wanted to walk around, watch the competition and take pictures, not say "Fine thank you, how are you?" "I'm from America" and "I'm 28" to every person I passed, and soon I decided to move on. Not before getting some cool shots though: 
Kumdo: Korean swordfighting.
He's flying through the air!
These kids asked me to take their picture.
After making my way to the ATM, I decided to visit a cosmetics shop, in order to see about buying some more powder (I'm kind of running low, what with the acne coverage and all...). I'm not much for makeup, although I am obsessive about my lipstick (CoverGirl Outlast) and have been known to have way too much fun with glittery eye makeup. I have never spent more than $4 on powder... until yesterday. I'm not even going to tell you how much I spent, as it's embarrasing. Korean women take their makeup seriously! I was worried that I might not be able to find powder to match my skin color - after all, I'm one of the whitest people I know in general, and here I am in Korea. But I shoudn't have worried. I knew that the Korean preference for light skin would give me a chance at finding makeup my skin color, but I wasn't prepared for the vast array of options - or for the fact that several of the options were (in my opinion) way too white for me. I enjoy being pale, but do I want to be literally as white as a sheet? No. The owner of the store and I were going through her collection of powders (loose powder, not compact), using my usual smattering of Korean with a heavy dose of charades, when she said to me (very slowly and clearly), "Do you speak English?" Yes! "Where are you from?" America. The woman blushed, and said in English, "Oh! I thought you were Russian. I am so sorry." After having spent so much time in Russia, I cannot help but feel complimented every time I'm mistaken for a Russian (which happens frequently here) - although I realize this isn't a compliment, given the sad fact that most Russian women in Korea are prostitutes. Most cosmetics stores will throw in some free samples with your purchase... this women threw in two coffee mugs. ("A gift for you!") I'm not one to turn up my nose at free things (especially when I'd just forked over way too much money for some powder), although I can't help but wonder if she was trying to apologize for thinking I was a Russian whore. Who knows.
Free mugs!
I had planned on going for a hike today, but it has been raining steadily since I awoke, so I expect I'll do little more than huddle under my covers with my newly acquired copy of Neverwhere.
Also - if you haven't already done so, please tell me which of these photos you prefer! (If you don't want to leave a comment, you can email your choice to me at jane [at] janekeeler [dot] com.) Thanks for your help!
