One Friday, I was going downtown to Sangdong when Mrs. Lee volunteered to drive me. On the way, she struggled a lot to say that she's inviting me to her house, if I don't mind. It's just a simple language barrier, mind you, but this took a whole fifteen minutes for me to understand. I said I'd be happy to.
I was going to do this on Sunday after coming back from visiting my friend, but I ended up staying around half a day longer, and didn't have the energy to go visit Mrs. Lee's house when I got back. Not to mention, when I was walking from Sangdong to the elementary school where I live, the principal picked me up and offered me a ride. He also offered me dinner, and I didn't refuse, and there was something to do Monday after school, so I had to postpone visiting Mrs. Lee's house until Tuesday.
We met at the library after school, where I met an art teacher. Mrs. Lee dropped her off at Sangdong, and then went to another school, the Daedong Elementary School, to give money to a friend and have her deposit it in the bank she works at, and then also to drop her off. Then there's one more trip to a separate bank before we get to her house, by which time it's really dark.
She lives in an apartment complex. We climbed four flights of stairs to get to a door where she pushes up the keyhole, enters a password, and the door opens automatically. Very advanced, since I'm so used to basic keys and bolt locks. We enter, and I do the traditional Korean take-off-my-shoes before stepping inside ritual. I put down my bag, and take off my coat, when she asks me whether I am sportsy. I tell her I run and do yoga. She goes, "Yoga! No wonder you're so slim!" She tells me to lay down on the couch, on a massager, because she notices that my neck cracks ocassionally. I am grateful for this.
I become more relaxed. It's a really nice house, fairly big, mainly because it's so well decorated. On the wall above the couch is a glass panel of rock collections, a Japanese art where specifically shaped rocks are matched to variously shaped wooden stands. I find out later that it's Mrs. Lee's father's. There's a piano to the left of the rock collections, and some musical instruments inbetween, including three guitars (one electric), and a small set of drums.
There's a running machine to the left beside the window, a tv stand with two more rock statues, the TV and the phone behind me, and the kitchen far off to the right. The doorway is to the right of the couch. Mrs. Lee serves me some plum tea, which is the most sour and relaxing tea I've taken, what a weird combination. After my massage, she serves me this purple colored rice with sesame while asking about my family, and telling me about her church members and children.
She tells me to go back to the couch, and proceeds to make Korean styled tortillas, which are wraps made of lettuce, tomato, cucumber, mayo, and honey mustard. She also prepares the rest of dinner. When I tire of the massager, I get up on the livingroom floor and do my yoga stretches. I realized how desperately I needed them.
I was going to do this on Sunday after coming back from visiting my friend, but I ended up staying around half a day longer, and didn't have the energy to go visit Mrs. Lee's house when I got back. Not to mention, when I was walking from Sangdong to the elementary school where I live, the principal picked me up and offered me a ride. He also offered me dinner, and I didn't refuse, and there was something to do Monday after school, so I had to postpone visiting Mrs. Lee's house until Tuesday.
We met at the library after school, where I met an art teacher. Mrs. Lee dropped her off at Sangdong, and then went to another school, the Daedong Elementary School, to give money to a friend and have her deposit it in the bank she works at, and then also to drop her off. Then there's one more trip to a separate bank before we get to her house, by which time it's really dark.
She lives in an apartment complex. We climbed four flights of stairs to get to a door where she pushes up the keyhole, enters a password, and the door opens automatically. Very advanced, since I'm so used to basic keys and bolt locks. We enter, and I do the traditional Korean take-off-my-shoes before stepping inside ritual. I put down my bag, and take off my coat, when she asks me whether I am sportsy. I tell her I run and do yoga. She goes, "Yoga! No wonder you're so slim!" She tells me to lay down on the couch, on a massager, because she notices that my neck cracks ocassionally. I am grateful for this.
I become more relaxed. It's a really nice house, fairly big, mainly because it's so well decorated. On the wall above the couch is a glass panel of rock collections, a Japanese art where specifically shaped rocks are matched to variously shaped wooden stands. I find out later that it's Mrs. Lee's father's. There's a piano to the left of the rock collections, and some musical instruments inbetween, including three guitars (one electric), and a small set of drums.
There's a running machine to the left beside the window, a tv stand with two more rock statues, the TV and the phone behind me, and the kitchen far off to the right. The doorway is to the right of the couch. Mrs. Lee serves me some plum tea, which is the most sour and relaxing tea I've taken, what a weird combination. After my massage, she serves me this purple colored rice with sesame while asking about my family, and telling me about her church members and children.
She tells me to go back to the couch, and proceeds to make Korean styled tortillas, which are wraps made of lettuce, tomato, cucumber, mayo, and honey mustard. She also prepares the rest of dinner. When I tire of the massager, I get up on the livingroom floor and do my yoga stretches. I realized how desperately I needed them.
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