Amanda Takes Off...

For years I had a Dilbert cartoon on my cork board. Dilbert was sorting through a stack of mail, muttering "Resident, Resident, Dilbert!" He smiles to himself and thinks, "I get mail, therefore I am."

Yesterday my sent-by-boat care package came from Mom and George. Sandals, books, 80 oz of wonderful extra-crunchy peanut butter (I had a spoonful yesterday just because I could and tonight dinner was an extra-crunchy peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich!), candy from Aunt Debbie, my perfume, pictures I didn't know were coming...wonderful! Wonderful!

Today I got Jeremy Fisher's CD Let It Shine. Prior to this, I heard only one song of his, "Lemon Meringe Pie," found on my Utne Indie Culture 2004 CD. I bought the issue years ago and didn't even unwrap it until days before I left Atlanta. I read not one article in the issue and probably donated it to charity, but I loaded the CD onto my iPod. I loved Fisher's song and eBay was the only place I could find his CD, so I ordered it from a Canadian seller.

The return address is Colorado, the customs form claims it's from Canada, it's posted in Germany, and sent to me here in South Korea.

I look at my Asia map on my wall, consider the Penske drive from Atlanta to Minnesota, I think of how long flights are, and how big the ocean is when you're over it and the world seems so big. Then I realize that some posters in my school here in South Korea are about The Blake School in Minneapolis*, I chat via Skype over the internet on the phone with my mom and it's so clear I can hear Kirby barking in the background, I look at my flipflops which have walked over earth in Sweden, Costa Rica, South Korea, Germany, and multiple US States, and get a package like this and I think, "When did the world become so small?"

(Sidenote: The CD is great and the "Lemon" song is a different version than the one on Utne's CD. Worth the money!)

I ran by a photo studio to get a stack of passport photos today and a young child, maybe first or second grade, was in the shop. He was so excited when I showed up that I thought he might explode. I was speaking to him in the few Korean words I know and he kept jumping up and down saying, "OK! OK!" I asked for 20 passport sized photos because, well, they're handy and I need three to try and get my Korean license. A man, I presume his father, came in the shop and gave me a comb and sat me down and took my picture and the kid was just bouncing up and down behind him. I thought the photos were too small and then did some research and found out that ignorant little me has no idea what a passport sized photo is. I'm a bit surprised immigration accepted my American-sized passport photo for my ARC.

Last night we played soccer against the other studio. Master forgot he wanted to test me; he remembered when we were walking to the soccer field. Some folks I'd never seen before showed up for our studio. Of course, I got to the soccer field and the kids from the other studio gaped at me and the women from the other studio and I bowed and asked "Annyeong ha sayyo" multiple times. I "played" soccer, which means I got some good mud stains on my dobok.

Back at the studio one of the people I've never seen before, Tall New Guy, started talking to me as I was trying to use my cell. He was speaking in Korean and I made the mistake of chirping off the few Korean phrases I know, including "want to eat together?" So he thought I was inviting him out to eat and everyone flipped out and oh no, no, no, that's not what I meant at all.

With the help of Cocky Guy (he makes me laugh because, well, cocky teenagers don't scare me), I got it across that I was just listing phrases I knew. About a half dozen of my studiomates formed a semicircle around me and watched as Tall New Guy asked questions. All of them talked back and forth about me in Korean, and Tall New Guy and Cocky Guy (who, upon Master's encouragement, asked if I had a boyfriend several weeks ago and then what kind of boyfriend I wanted) kept up a good long dialogue while I acted like I was at a tennis match, looking from one to the other. Tall New Guy shook my hand at least three times and I sort of felt like I was in a zoo. I finally said, "Um, I am going now."

"Oh! You must leave?"

"I need to eat."

"OK, OK. When I see you again? Tomorrow?"

My studiomates started screaming about my class schedule (in Korean). I said, "Toe-yo-il, yo-sote-shi" (Saturday, 6:00) and I said "AM, morning."

He yelled, "Six AM! I know six AM!" and started leaping about in the air. I stood there, laughing, shaking my head thinking, Good. Ness. What am I doing here? He shook my hand again and I gave him my name as "Amanda" (as if he hadn't been told my name seventy-three times by everyone else already). I think he asked me what my whole name was, so I told him. He repeated it, counting the beats, and yelled, "Seven! Seven! In Korea, we have three."

I laughed and said, "I know. I have three in Korea, too. Just 'A-man-da.'"

I love tae kwon do and my studio because it's always an amusing experience to go. I'm either treated like nothing special (guys changing with the door wide open, oh, are blue jockeys the "in" think right now?) or gaped at. Every day is something new, even if I do wonder if I'm taking tae kwon do or soccer.

*My high school debate partner's first serious boyfriend was a debater from The Blake School.