100 days 100 degrees 100 different ways

100 days.

When a child is 100 days old in Korea, it’s a big celebration. The whole family gathers together for merriment and plays games, some of which are superstitious in their indication of the child’s future (if a child grabs money out of a hat, they will be rich. If they grab a book, they’ll pursue academic interests, etc.). It’s all good fun and just one way to have a birthday party a little early. (I don’t know historically why 100 days became the day for festivities). I just learned that the same goes for couples. They celebrate every 100 days they’ve been together. (For American men, this thing every 3+ months seems like a pretty good deal, but because you have to actually count, it requires you to know the day you started dating). One of my Korean co-workers has been with her boyfriend almost 1400 days (nearly 4 years). Your friends are supposed to give you 100Won pieces of money (about 10 cents) for good luck. This co-worker EVEN suggested to another co-worker celebrating his first 100 days giving 100 roses (come on—100 days, 100 roses? No wonder clothes are so cheap here—you have to spend that kind of money every 3 months and your friends just give you a dime? Sheesh!) But I thought the real clincher came when the cell phone companies got in on the deal: there’s a feature on phones where you can put in the day you started dating and it calculates how many days it has been. Oh wow—way to go, Samsung!


Humidity.

Man oh man is it getting hot in this country. I’ll come home and after having no a/c on all day, my apartment is 30 degrees… Celsius! (That’s 86F). It’s not the same smothering heat I recall from home, but I had to run several errands this morning before school and it felt like I was wearing a layer of slime between my body and my clothes. Even my hair was wet—and all I did was ride the bus and subway and walk down the street! I curl my eyelashes in the morning and the curl doesn’t hold because the humidity takes it right out! No kidding! How bizarre. I exercise more here than I did at home, but surely my sweat glands aren’t that much more efficient! I stopped to buy a replenishing powerade-like drink before I walked my sweaty self into the travel agent after my sweatfest this week. I didn’t want to totally look like Swamp Thing!


Yankee!

For what will probably be my last weekend in Daegu, I arrived early Saturday morning because Friday night was a sleepless one. Courtesy of the painters downstairs at school (who are now the drillers, noisily poking holes into the floor beneath me), I breathed in carcinogenic fumes for three days, to whom credit is due for the funk running from my nasal cavity into my throat. Hence my sleeplessness for all but about 3 hours. Saturday consisted of a BBQ with Army folk and then going out. On our way to the bar, our taxi passed two old Korean men fighting, throwing one another on the ground and rolling. Then we realized that they were just drunk and showing affection for one another, having a good time. A few minutes later, our taxi crossed a big intersection where we saw a man standing still, arms up over his head, smack in the middle of the road. No idea what either of these phenomena were about, but more than a year in Korea and I’ve never seen something like this before. But in less than 5 minutes, witnessed both. How odd! Anyway, we arrived at a bar whose name escapes me (Itaewon something or other, much like the armpit area of Seoul for foreigners, called Itaewon). We ordered drinks and noticed a computer next to the bar where you could load whatever music you wanted onto Winamp and have it played. What a fun idea! While I was waiting for drinks, a man who looked to be about mid-30s, asked what my drink was and how much it was. When he asked the bartender how much it was, he turned to me and said, “F*** that.” I opted to ignore him... until he later interrupted my mp3 surfing to move one of his songs up on the play list and stop the one that was playing at the moment. I mean, he grabbed my hand, clicked on what he wanted, and walked off. I thought it was incredibly rude. Then he returned to check on his playlist (which I avoided deleting despite his behavior) and pitched a fit that someone’s “Phish” song had been put in the middle of his favorites. I honestly had no clue whose song it was or who did it, nor did I care... until he started commanding me to remove this song, rearrange that one, etc. Then he dropped a few profanities and Sgt. Lee Tabor, one of the guys with us and true to his title of "First Class," turned to defend my honor. (I really was touched that he was so quick to take up for me... but this guy was entirely too old to be out at a bar, much less being a jerk about some silly tunes). So they had a few words before the bartender walked up and asked what this guy’s problem was. He started whining about how he’s been waiting to listen to his music (most of which I liked, for the record) for two hours. He spoke a little Korean, but she realized that he got greedy with his 10+ lyrical desires and told him he had too many. She asked me which songs I wanted, and at this point Taber and I had 3 songs at the bottom of the list, long after his were to be played. I said this was fine, no issues for me. I decided I wasn’t going to be involved in this, so I walked off, while she decided she was going to have to make her own playlist. Then another one of our crew went to order a drink and somehow managed to get in a macho match with this same north-of-the-Mason-Dixon guy. It was truly ridiculous. He must have realized it, too, because he left shortly thereafter. What an ordeal! Events like these are what make my remaining time here less pleasant. When something works my nerves, I just think, “Only a few more days of this!” I’m not even unhappy, but I don’t plan on many unpleasantries upon my return.


Copyright 2006 Olivia R. Reed