So on Tuesday I put off doing my lesson plan for the next day (why?? Why do I always plan my lessons less than 12 hours before I actually teach them? I should resolve to be a more responsible and far less flaky ETA) to go see some modern dance. Actually, my understanding of where we were going went through quite an evolution, an example of the kind of miscommunication that can happen even if your host family did spend a year in Utah. First, I thought we were going to see Yong Ju dance ballet. Which really at that point didn’t surprise me—I’m getting used to the Lee kids springing accomplishments and abilities on me without warning. (Marina plays the traditional Korean drum, is class president, got the number one score on a national English test, starred in the school play and is a gymnast? Of course! Yong Ju plays the Korean traditional flute, is number one in his class, is class president, is school tug-of-war champion and loves to sew? Why not?! And you thought they were just cute kids…) Anyway, then I was led to believe that while Yong Ju would not actually be dancing, he could if he wanted to. Then that he merely was supposed to go in order to get school credit. But then later that he couldn’t go so that I would be going in his place so that I could tell him all about it and he could still get the extra credit. (Gasp! So that’s how they do it…the Lee’s are just lying and cheating their way to the top. I knew it.) And not ballet. Well, at least I got the “dance” part right.

The performance was held at the Gumi Arts Center…I was totally thrilled when we got there cause I didn’t even know that Industrial Gumi HAD an arts center; I thought the place was limited to rice paddies and smokestacks. The building even looked like an arts center should, with a big brick square and incomprehensible sculpture out front. The first performance was pretty standard as far as pretty cool modern dance goes. All sorts of swirling costumes and leaping around to energetic drumming and chanting. I was very proud of myself because I actually recognized the costumes as reminiscent of a particular style of monks’ robes from when I saw the monks doing the evening call in Songnisan. It turns out the whole dance was meant to represent a Buddhist story about a 3,000 year-old flower, which I admit I didn’t catch, but still, maybe I have a future as the Korean Joan Aocella. Mm? This performance was pretty much a sure thing, though. As Marina explained to me, the dancers were from a group in Gumi, but they recently won second place at a big national dance competition in Seoul. Go Gumi. The second half of the show, though, was a total grab bag. We ricocheted from 20 5 year olds in costumes that probably weighed as much as they did dancing to traditional music to a hip hop trio (decked out in Vans sneakers and NY Yankees caps), to older women singing pansori (ugh), to my personal favorite, the big band swing dancing. Actually, it wasn’t swing dancing at all, but the whole thing was set to Benny Goodman’s greatest hits. The guy? Wearing silver sequined pants, a BLACK MESH tank top and a black leatherish button down shirt open to the navel. The women? White miniskirts and backless purple suit vests. Basically the whole thing consisted of the guy doing…is it called “popping”? (God, I’m so unhip.) I know a couple of Williams guys used to do it sometimes at talent shows and stuff. It’s that thing where you’re whole body is supposed to look like it’s on hinges and you only move in spasmodic, robot-like twitches. So he would do that and the girls would sort of writhe around nearby, occasionally stalking up to him and pushing him back and forth. For like ten minutes. This was without a doubt the absolute worst dance performance I have ever seen in my life, and I am including the work of four year olds in pre-school talent shows I this evaluation. So, kind of an epochal night. At least Fresa was enjoying it…I could tell be the subtle way she was holding her hands above her head and clapping in time to the music.