The bitter taste left in my mouth by the college campus coffee I travelled 45 minutes for that was almost worth it, and the cough drops I've been popping to avoid coughing around the natives who would inevitably brand me a flu-carrier.
The bitterness seeping through the very walls of our apartment as we all stew over the fact that it is now the end of our only day off this week, and we face another 6 days of Korean children in windowless rooms.
The bitter blow that came with the memory that five years ago I had guidance counselors holding my hand as I applied for college. Grad school applications will not be a forgiving experience.
The bitter texture of sheets of angst piling up in my susceptible mind as I try to figure whether these constant thoughts of going home makes me a quitter or whether I'm just figuring out what's really important.
Anyway, to lighten the mood, let me tell you what happened Saturday night. What started as a plan to have a good American burger dinner in Itaewon and go home early turned into quite an adventure. Somehow we ended up following strangers to the most American house party I have been to since sophomore year. There were two beer pong tables, a keg and - I swear I'm not making this up - red plastic cups. And I got to speak Polish all night because one of the guys we met was a Polish-American medic based in Okinawa. The Polish was the best part. Unfortunately the guy isn't sticking around beyond this week. Would have been nice to have a fellow Polak in this city. Having a secret language is empowering.
Things like this don't normally happen to me! I don't meet people that easily, I don't ever just "end up" somewhere.
Korea must be good for me.
Certain things that come with Korea - not so much...
I played golf today in Rajszew with Paul Zalucky and Jim Wilson, ou rnew Commercial Consul. We were following a flight of four Koreans. I hit a wood five, which gives me a slice every-so-often and this slice send my ball directly to Koreans and hit a bag carried by one of them. They were furious because thay claimed they did not hear my cry "fore". None of the famous politeness was displyed. They were pretty direct in expressing their anger. Made me think that the indirectness of this culture is slightly overrated. After all I did not mean to send a ball in their direction and I appologised profusely. Go figure...
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