Familiar like home, and yet...

Night three in Gumi as successful as the first two. It's quite easy to run into people at the bars here--just like back in Manhattan. The last few days have been comfortably fun shifts between chaos and nothing with enough walking around to give me shin splints and soggy shoes. Lovin it.

Woody, my American team-teacher and guide to the world that is Gumi--has been taking me around with his Korean fiance, Boram. English-meets-Korean, midwest-meet-far east. Best of both worlds there. I helped them move from across the hall of my apartment to a much swankier setup a half block away. They have a sweet pad and roof access where we take breaks and have a great view of the town and mountain. Fully excited for future BBQs and sunbathing. Plans for a kiddie pool are already in the works.

The blessings of Boram are already unlistable. Besides her insight to Korean culture and patient translation, she acts as an interpreter. Already she helped me order a meatless menu at this wonderful pizza place. We sat on pillows in a room where soup, bread, pickles, salad, pizza, coffee and cheesecake were brought to us by impeccable service (which I'm still adjusting to not tipping for) that only cost around $12. She also has a car, which is invaluable here for taking me beyond downtown.
She and Woody took me to Lotte Mart- a massive 5-story Targetish buy-anything-you-could-imagine sort of place. After navigating our way through crowds of Koreans, whose cart traffic is as chaotic a system as their roadways, she drove me back to my place where I made my first peanut butter and jelly since leaving the states. Good lord did I miss my Skippy.

Woody's southern midwest nature fits right nice with me--and the friends they've shared with me seem fully ready and willing for anything I could offer. There's such a mix of personalities here, yet we all share one thing in common: we are open, honest, and 100% genuine from the get-go. No wasting time with drama or masks. Travelers, I have always believed, step outside of the pettiness that exists in the stagnant life; Korea is proving this to be truer than I could have imagined.

I've gone out and run into several other people from my EPIK class. The past two nights several of the guys met up at Waegu (foreigner) bars. Corona seems to be the place for me, right across the train station, a few blocks walk. There is a good mix of Koreans and foreigners, so I don't feel completely cut off from the culture there, and the owners are incredibly welcoming and excited to see us. And there is whiskey. Ah, what a break from Soju, even if it is a bit more expensive. Warms my soul. And decent music, and a bit of dance party seems to find its what in each night. I even managed a bit of Hula hooping last night. Made me miss my sistas back in Manhappening. But no longer O'Malley's Alley, Gumi is the place to be.

Saturday night I got my first real look at the intensity of Korean honor codes. Jack, a guy from Wales who was in my group, met me and we made friends with several English dudes who had been in town a lot longer. First Corona, then over to Mai Tai where we drank coctails from buckets, then back to Corona where we melded into a larger group of Western revelers. A Korean man named Kevin had gotten himself good and sloshed and was chummin up with the group of us. PLayed a bit of Jenga (oh that really reminded me of home) and watched as Kevin's wife waited, dozed, and waited. Sometimes she would join us a bit, but it was clear she was much more aware and ready to leave. Well, sadly Mister Kevin was not, took a swing at her (thank god he missed) and the Korean DJ (who I hear is typically mild mannered) took after Kevin. Fists-a-flew. And, being in the Western bar, western minds stepped in, and there were Jack and some very big English arms trying to hold the two back. They tood it outside, we tried to get Kevin to leave, and all he kept spouting was that he was going to kill him. Kill him. The DJ, bent on his own rules of honor, wanted to kill Kevin (who in everyone's eyes, deserved it). I am told he is known for beating his wife, which is appalling since she is there taking care of him, waiting on him, feeling shame like no one could believe and still being the supporting wife. It did not sit right with any of us. And there was Kevin, his mouth all bloody, trying to tell me that the DJ shamed HIM and would die for it.

Soju brings out the best and worst of men; travel all the way around the world and it's the same. If not for the foreign interference, I have no doubt those two would have battled it out to the end. It's an odd tension I'm trying to get my mind around, this country--and my province in particular--where there is no crime towards others, you can safely walk the streets alone, and yet, if someone feels their honor has been taken, they will turn with an intensity to reclaim it. It's not the same as bar fights back home where people drunkenly brawl out for no reason at all; there is a charge that drives them here, and will probably cause it to end in extremes. But, luckily for the group mentality here, no one outside is included. It is a contained sort of violence.

Aside from that one insident, which was in a sick way, quite thrilling (especially for Jack, who said he'd never been part of a proper fight in his life), peace abounds. In this city that is bustling, people seem to be laughing, enjoying themselves, weaving in and out of each other with no problem at all. The mist clings to the mountains, the temple peaks out of all the bustle of everyday life, and the neon and hello kitty bring cartoonish fun to everything. Easy to slip into, easy to become a part of. And ridiculously easy to move into the close-knit community of foreigners living within it all.

I start teaching tomorrow. Big day. I'm excited to meet my kids and work with Woody and my Korean coworkers. I know I can handle Gumi; I hope it is ready for me.