Amanda Takes Off...

I've recently learned the adjective-아/어/여지다 form in Korean, meaning "to change, to become, to turn into." Yesterday Good Man read some stories from my fairy tale book with me. My mind was suddenly making 100 connections a story. I've had this book for some time, but suddenly large chunks of it were making more sense than ever before.

Patient Good Man! I was asking questions about other changing/becoming forms ("...so 가 되다 means..."). I was shouting out new or figured-out-on-the-spot vocabulary ("주웠습니다, 줍다, I know that one!" "보여 주다...show?"). I was asking questions, why was it "두 사람" rather than "사람 두 명"? Why was the woman using 하시다 with her husband?

Suddenly a story I read weeks ago popped into my head. There had been one sentence I'd glossed over at the end of the story and hadn't worried about even though it had confused me at the time. I thought I understood the problem. I found the story, 해와 달 이야기 and found the sentence. In a contextual sentence the little sister complains to her older brother that she's afraid of the dark.

I put on my best Korean-little-sister-whining voice. "오빠, 나는 밤이 너무 무서워요."

Good Man giggled at me through the entire sentence, and I said, "Do I sound like a Korean girlfriend?"

He shook his head, no.

"오빠!" I whined, using the "big brother" nickname that girls call their boyfriend here, aiming for the proper Korean whine. "What about now?"

He shook his head, no.

I held out my hands, pouted as well as I could and whined, "오빠빠빠빠! 돈이 줘!" Boyfriend, give me some money.

He laughed and nodded.

Finally!

Something you absolutely want to hear your best friend say about most probably seeing you (relatively) soon:

AYAYAYAYAYAYAY! I am so excited, you can't believe!

***

Good Man and I saw Monet at the Seoul Museum of Art for our first date. This weekend I asked if he wanted to see Van Gogh or if he wanted to check out The Museum of Photography, Seoul.

The Museum of Photography covers two floors of a large building near Olympic Park. It's run by some pharmaceutical company, and it's not very well known in Korea. On our way there, I spied some interesting reflections on the photography museum's building. We couldn't see the onion-dome thing from the ground, but Good Man thinks it's the building's water tank.

Reflections and Multiple Languages

Fake Flowers

In front of the building, we found some very sparkly trees. I was trying to get some good bokeh, but I was having a hard time focussing. A really hard time. Autofocus wasn't doing well because of the amount of light, contrast, and the like. I wasn't doing well because I have terrible vision. Still, I like the first photo.

Tree, Sparkling!

Tree, Sparkling!

Me, Always Sparkling

They are currently running two exhibits, one about Energy and one about Nature.

Museum of Photography

Inside the museum itself, photography was not allowed. That was not surprising. I really enjoyed the exhibits. I liked seeing the photography, and I liked deciding why I did or didn't like each photo. Sometimes it was a photo without a clear area of focus. Sometimes it was a photo with an area of focus where I wouldn't have placed it.

The energy exhibit was great, but some of the photos had too much movement and blur for me. My eyes actually hurt to look at them for too long. Others seemed to lack a pure black or white, or they lacked enough shades of grey.

The exhibit about nature had some breathtaking photos. Photos that reminded me of brush paintings and fairy tales. Mountains and temples with fog filling in the valleys. Photos that were in color, but looked like black and white with a touch of hand-tinting.

We were talking about the photos and Good Man said, "You would need to get up very early to get those photos. Six or seven, on the mountain."

"Too early for me."

I know he's right—some of my most interesting photos have been taken during the early hours of the day.

"It will be more fun if you do it."

Though we couldn't take any photos of the exhibit photos, I wanted to take some photos through the window, as we had a great view of Olympic Park and the very beige skyline that is Seoul. On the second floor of the museum, some employees were busy, seemingly wrapping up previously used photos to send to their owner or new home. While I was pretty sure they wouldn't mind me taking photos out of the large windows, I thought it better to ask permission.

"Hey, Good Man, will you ask them if I can take photos?" He looked at me and I knew the answer was going to be no. Good Man, despite often seeming the contrary, is Korean. He doesn't want to talk to people he doesn't know and he's especially fearful of ajummas and ajosshis, though none of the employees were that old. "You're going to make me do this, aren't you?"

"It will be more fun if you do it," he said.

I hate speaking Korean in front of Good Man. I am much more comfortable speaking Korean when I am alone or with other foreign friends because nobody I know hears my mistakes. Also, when I am with Good Man, Koreans expect him to speak. This means that they really don't expect to hear my voice speaking Korean (especially since the two of us speak English together) so the novelty, shock, and awe of the white girl speaking is even higher than usual.

I thought, 밖에? "How do I say 'outside the window—"

Before I could offer my thoughts, Good Man responded, "밖에."

"창문 밖에 사진을 찍어도 되요?" He nodded and we walked around, viewing the whole exhibit. I was working up the nerve to speak to the employees.

Finally, I said, ""창문 밖에—" and there I stumbled. The three of them were looking at me like I had an extra eye coming out of my forehead. Was I accidentally ordering gimbap or something? I swallowed hard, mentally reviewed what I'd said and continued, "사진을 찍어도 되요?"

One of them looked shocked, one looked confused, one said, "네!"

"감사합니다."

While I was taking photos, I heard bits of pieces of their conversation. Seems they were all very surprised that I was speaking Korean. They were laughing about it, being kind about it. Good Man was right: it was fun.

I don't have a polarizing filter for my prime lens, so reflections loom large.

Olympic Park

Beige Seoul

Boring, Beige Seoul

I wonder if builders are given a discount on beige, because Seoul is about 8 shades of it. So terribly boring. Cars are also mostly white, silver, grey. Good Man disagreed with me, but I started pointing out cars in the parking lots. How many were white, silver, grey? About 98% of them.

Street

Little Yellow Car

And of course, no photo-heavy post would be complete without Good Man's eyes. Those eyes, that bruise.

Good Man

Eyes