Today, I'm sitting at my desk, working or pretending to find "work" to do so I can seem and feel busy and productive. All of students are taking their exams this week, as they did last week. I had Friday and Monday off for Chu-seok holiday, which is basically the equivalent of Korean thanksgiving. All the off time definitely brought about a different dynamic to my life here in Korea. I started noticing how different the week was going to be last Wednesday as I sat down to eat lunch in the teacher cafeteria. There I was, minding my own and eating my rice and chicken like a good little foreign English teacher- when in walked a Korean teacher I had never spoken to before and grabbed me by the shoulder saying- "Lets-ah go!" To which I responded.... "Ummm.......?" He then said something in broken English to the teacher next to me, who said- "Ahhh, he say, you have office outing today! You must go with him to eat lunch with your office! Sooo, stop eating." With that, he grabbed my plate, helped me up and together we dumped what remained of my first lunch into the garbage. I then followed him up the stairs and out into the parking lot where his car was waiting with another teacher in the front passenger seat. We drove out of the city into God knows where in the Korean countryside. Both of the Korean teachers were speaking only Korean obviously, so after a half hour, I tuned them out and fell asleep in the back seat. I woke up at random intervals only to find us in random gravel parking lots, turning around and yelling out requests for directions in Korean. Apparently, my co-teachers read the expression on my face and explained- "We're-ah lost-ah!" To which, I fell back asleep. Two hours later (and yes, I do mean two hours) we finally pulled into a restaurant near the ocean side where the rest of the office was waiting in a room upstairs. There were two long tables only about a foot off the floor where my principal, vice-principal, and various other coworkers were sitting on the floor on straw mats. The menu was raw fish, raw squid, raw octopus (that was still moving), and anything else raw and fishy. As I sat down, the teacher who had stolen me away from my nice, comfortable lunch of edible chicken and perfectly normal rice (that now seem quite delicious in comparison to the fare laid out before us) asked me- "Do you drink-ah soju??" Ahhh soju. That mystic Korean beverage you could purchase by the bottle for the ever affordable price of 1200 won (about a dollar) at any restaurant, corner store, or gas station. Many people describe its taste as being something between vodka and ethanol. All I knew is that a few shots of soju after wild, stressful experiences (like the one I just had) suddenly made the world a little bit more tolerable, if you could tolerate the burn in the back of your throat and the smell of rubbing alcohol the drink strangely possessed. As I was pondering my reply, I realized that the entire table had stopped eating and were now watching me intently to see what my response would be. It was a little nerve-wracking, knowing that the entire mood of the dinner could somehow all depend on how I answered the all important question. So, I cleared my throat, looked up at him, and declared every so distinctly so the whole table could hear- "Like water!" To which, the entire lunch party erupted in laughter and raised their glasses aloft declaring "Com-bay!!!" or "Olleh!!!" He poured me a shot of soju, to which I com-bayed and olleh-ed with the rest of the them, clinking my tiny shot glass with as many of theirs as I could reach. The lunch lasted for two hours. I slowed down my soju intake after a few. A big motivation for slowing down had a lot to do with the fact that I had no idea where I was and there were only a few teachers there who actually spoke English. It must be tricky business, being in the middle of nowhere on the Korean coast, drunk with a bunch of teachers who don't speak English. So I took it easy, combay-ing and olleh-ing with water instead of beer or soju, while the rest of them just kept on drinking. Pretty soon, most of their faces had a nice red flush, and the volume of the conversation interestingly enough grew louder. I looked down at my phone, and noticed it was around 3:30 PM. But the party didn't stop at the restaurant. I followed the teachers out of the eating establishment, walking behind them as they stumbled down the stairs and into their cars, where we drove to a teacher's summer home near the countryside for some more socializing. Again, two long tables were taken out, and we all took our places on the floor. Fruit, dried squid, nuts, and again, wine & beer (but no soju) were poured as the teachers' conversation calmed down a bit and turned to something that seemed a bit more domesticated. I don't really know. It was all in Korean. I was having to follow along, acting interesting and engaged, having nothing to go on besides vocal inflections and laughter. When they all laughed, I laughed too. Although I didn't have a clue what about. Eventually, I heard my name in the midst of all the Korean spoken. In Korea, people call me "Josh-y". Something about the Korean language makes saying "Josh" difficult, so they add the extra syllable without meaning to, thus creating "Josh-y". Which is funny, because this was the name given to me by my parents and siblings when I was a child. My family and closest friends still often refer to me as this, so it doesn't bother me a bit. It's just funny to me hearing my very somber, dignified principal refer to me as "Josh-y". So I hear the word, "Josh-y" right as all of people at the two tables turn to look at me with great looks of excitement and amazement. "Ahhhhhh" they all said. I just grinned sheeplishly, wondering what on earth one of them was going to ask me to do. "We heard-ah you were a musician!" One of them finally said. Uh-oh. I thought about lying. "No no, you heard wrong. I'm a magican. Big difference. But unfortunately, I only do card and rabbit tricks, and there aren't any of either lying around at the moment, so I can't show you anything. Sorry!" But with my luck, one of them would probably have pulled out a live rabbit and a deck of playing cards from their pockets and clapped their hands triumphantly as I blushed and cursed under my breath. So I told the truth, and confessed to dabbling in a bit of music in my day. "You must sing for us!!! You must-ah SHING for us-ah!!!" You-ah must shing for-ah us-sh!!!" Before I knew it, I was being helped to me feet as they all clapped and smiled and cheered. The room then grew deathly quiet, as the only sounds I heard were the teeth of Korean smiles beaming up at the blushing foreigner who stood awkwardly in the front of the room, not knowing whether to run or laugh. "Umm....ummmm....what do you want me to shing....I mean....sing??" "Tears-ah in heaben!!" "Ummm, I don't really know Eric Clapton." "My-ah Waay!!" "Frank Sinatra? Really?" "MY HEART-AH WILL GO ON!!!" "No." Finally, I settled on Let it Be, by the Beatles. It was the only song I knew by heart, and I knew that if I started into something to which I halfway knew the words, I would crack under the pressure and end up repeating the lines over and over. I closed my eyes and belted it out, not knowing what the results would be. After I had thoroughly butchered the classic ballad, I opened by eyes to see all fifteen Koreans clapping and cheering like they just seen Paul McCartney himself sing the song for the first time. I felt incredibly confident in my singing abilities as I sat down to hearty slaps on the back and excessive compliments. For the next hour, each one of the Koreans went around the circle and sang songs. Mostly Korean ballads that sounded a bit like Mexican love songs I used to hear at the Los Reyes in Dalton when I was a kid. It was really funny how "shy" and "humble" each one of them pretended to be whenever it was their turn to sing. At first, each response was "Oooooh noooo! I couldn't possibly! Oh wow! No, I'm not prepared at all!" as they were nervously laughing and covering their face, but standing up and clearing their throat at the same time. And then, within a moment's notice, they were belting out a well-rehearsed Korean ballad without any hesitation or reservation in the least bit. I was told later that it is customary for every social Korean to keep at least three or four perfected songs in their repertoire, so in the case of spontaneous singing parties (which apparently happen often), they will have something to sing. The strange day ended with an hour and a half car ride back to Seoul. I was exhausted and absolutely mentally frazzled from having to seem engaged while I listen to Korean for almost six straight hours. I was told that the next day would be less stressful, as I was going to the seaside with some of the English teachers to relax and get some more seafood. I showed up the next morning at school with jeans, a nice button up shirt, and flip flops- pretty standard office casual half-day/Korean beach wear. All of my Korean teachers were dressed in hiking gear. Boots, leg warmers, hats, scarves, climbing poles, lyrca/nylon athletic pants, and north face fleeces. "Ummmmm...." I said. "Josh-y!" They said. Seemingly suprised and shocked. "Your shoes are not appropriate for hiking!" "I....uh....I thought we were going to the beach?" "Ooooooooh....but, the beach-y is next-ah to the mountains! So, we will go to the beach-y, and then- hiking!" But of course. No beach day is complete without a brisk hike in mountains. When I think beach, I think climbing poles and hob-nail boots. Long story short, the hike ended up being around 12 kilometers. Which, I don't even want to think about how many miles that is. All I know is that most of it was uphill, over sharp, jagged rocks and crevices. Throughout the course of our four hour hike, I split my big toe nail open, sliced the back of my heel, and scraped the top of my right foot. Blood was everywhere, but I did my best to hide it and keep pushing through. The views were absolutely incredible.The mountains looked out over the ocean as the Seoul skyline rose over clouds which hovered below us. In that moment, I was happy for all of the craziness and hilarity I had endured over my first Chu-seok. It was all part of the amazing experience of Korea and all the awkward but beautiful moments of living abroad. I am blessed. Even after the teachers took me out for more raw fish and got drunk and forced me to go to a singing room with them until 1 AM. --Josh-- | 
