I don’t think it’s possible for me to convey how consistently ridiculous Korean fashion is. A few weeks ago Jy came to visit me in Gumi, and we spent about an hour very un-discreetly people watching from the counter at my favorite pretend-Starbucks coffee shop, Pelcoffee. (Why pretend-Starbucks? Well, the name Pelcoffee is spelled out in big, green, Starbucks-font letters, right next to the round, green Pelcoffee logo thing. Better than the coffee shop I saw in Daegu rather unabashedly named Buckstar—advertised in the same green lettering. Whatever. I’m a dedicated Pelcoffee customer. I love it for it’s overstuffed armchairs, cute barista with the ever-popular black horn-rimmed glasses, and a drink called the “shakereto.” As in cappuccino, macchiato, shakereto. Can’t beat that.) Anyway, for the entire hour we tried to spot a single outfit that would be considered even remotely acceptable—that is, not outright bizarre—in the United States. You’ll think I’m exaggerating, but we saw not one single acceptable outfit. Right now a major trend in women’s fashion is a style made famous by the TV show Seinfeld, known as the “pirate shirt” (or was that shirt made famous by pirates?). Anyway, go window-shopping in Korea and you will find many, many iterations of the pirate shirt—in purple silk, adorned with large brass buttons, in a lovely red and black plaid…the choices are basically endless. (Yong Ju recently purchased a red and black striped shirt, mostly, he told me, because he considers the color combination “so noble.”) Shirts that looked from the back like they might be normal universally turned out to be adorned on the front with huge bows, ruffles, strange pleats and puckers, iron-on jersey vests (HUGE) or silver chains attached in seemingly arbitrary locations. A typical outfit for one of my female coteachers might be a satin pink skirt with ruffled layers at the bottom, a green pirate shirt (lots more ruffles), a purple velvet blazer with puffy sleeves and lace at the cuffs, black tights with gold hearts and platform shoes. Of course, while one of the teachers at school might wear a sheer t-shirt, artfully ripped and patched with lace, it’s still considered far less scandalous than, for instance, my black knit Ann Taylor shirt that has cap-sleeves only and therefore is far too revealing in the arm. Hm. I should also mention that Korean people appear to have absolutely no qualms about repeating their clothes. I’m not talking wearing the same pair of jeans for a few days. I mean, people will wear the exact same outfit (and remember, these outfits are distinctive and have many components) for two or three days at a time. It’s actually kind of liberating in the mornings sometimes—can’t think of what to wear? Yesterday’s outfit did a pretty good job, why not just use it again? Anyway, for the last two days Fresa’s clothing of choice has involved black leggings and an item that seems to be a huge, orange Winnie-the-Pooh nightgown, but is perhaps a dress?

Tomorrow is a really big deal day, a day the third graders (seniors) at my school have been anticipating for the past year (actually, they’ve probably anticipating this day ever since they learned the word “test”). That’s right…November 16th is the KOREAN SAT. I know I’ve mentioned this before as the test that basically dictates the university that students will go to and therefore the entire course of the rest of their lives. In a country where students seem to take two or three national tests a week, this is the big one. The excitement/nausea-inducing nervousness has been mounting for the past month, and things were pretty frenzied at school today. Gumi High School is a KSAT test site, which means that there were no classes all afternoon so the school could be thoroughly cleaned in preparation for the visitors. (Have I ever mentioned that students do all of the school cleaning? There are no janitors at Gumi High School. Instead, after 4th period every day students magically appear in the hallways halfheartedly pushing mops, sponging off the walls, and sweeping the stairs. They do the teacher’s office, too, and it’s always a little startling when I’m sitting at my computer and a student suddenly tries to wedge a broom between my desk and my chair. As one teacher explained it, this practice really cuts down on the cleaning bills, but it also means that the school is basically always a little dirty.) There’s a big showing of solidarity for the third graders on KSAT day…even though there’s no class a lot of first and second graders get to school early to cheer the third graders as they go inside. Last year Korea Herald ran front-page pictures of supporters at one high school carrying huge signs—if you didn’t know what the placards said you’d think the kids were at a political rally. Anyway, once the test is over tomorrow the third graders can pretty much forget about school for the rest of the semester—their work is done. But it’s bad news for the second graders, who will now be bumped to the test-ready position. After this week they have to stay at school to study every night until 11, unlike those lucky first graders who can still leave school as early as 10.

So today as I was walking up the drive toward the Gumi Children’s Welfare Center, I heard someone call my name. I looked up, and there hanging out of the windows of the third-story classroom where I teach was my entire class of 11-year-olds, waving and shouting hello. And yesterday, when I arrived at the orphanage I was greeted by one of the little girls running toward me shouting “Janaki! Janaki!” When she got to me I picked her up and swung her around in circles until we were both dizzy. Then another little girl came running yelling “Me, too!” so I swung them both, one little girl clinging to each arm. When they make the sappy TV drama documenting my year in Korea, these two incidents will be featured prominently, probably in slow motion and montage format.

I figured out the other day how to type in Korean on my Mac, and promptly spent the next six hours (it felt like) cutting out little tiny pieces of Scotch tape with the Korean characters and sticking them onto my keyboard. I’m not sure if Blogger recognizes Korean, but check it out: 이고시 넌센스이다. It’s a secret message.

Hm, speaking of secret messages, I emailed a bunch of traval agents about various flights for me and my parents over witner break. Here is what Joy Travel sent back to me:
sea-inch nw 007 28 dec 1240 2110+1 inchon- seattle nw 008 17 jan 1105 0715 air fare is including tax won968000 two passengers inch-bang tg 03 jan 2100 0050+1 bangkok-inchon tg 658 16 jan 2350 0700+1 air fare is including tax won715000 each and one inch-tok nh 908 20 jan 1420 1630 tokyo-inchon nh 907 04 feb 1045 1330 fare is
including tax won455000 an one sea-tok nw 007 20 jan 1300 1635+1 tok-sea nw 008 04 feb 1525 0715 fare is including tax won954500 all ticket 30 days advance purchase ticket
MAN!