Okay – most of you know how I love to make lists, so here are my first lists from Korea:

Things I’m really glad I brought:

Sheets and pillow (very hard to find here)

Framed pictures of family and friends (worth the weight in the suitcase)

Beach flip flops (for the bathroom after I’ve showered and there’s water everywhere)

Silk long underwear (it is *freezing* here)

Crossword puzzle books

Things that are useless here:

My shoe bag/storage unit for the closet (there are no closets here – besides, all shoes are taken off at the door and stay there)

Pastry cutter (there are no ovens here. Oh, I’m going to miss macaroni and cheese)

My CD player (forgot the cord, can’t get it to work)

So far, the list of things I’m really happy I have is longer, life is good . . .

Now for the tale of the day . . .

Sunday, December 23

My first day off. Yeah! And I am on a mission. As I mentioned, there are no closets here. Let me explain my apartment a little more in depth. A studio. Which is wallpapered. Pink and white striped on the bottom half of the wall. A dainty pink floral print on the top half. Not quite my style, but I’ll work with it. A double bed. With a puffy, yellow comforter. With little daisies embroidered on it. My table/desk has two chairs that look like they came from an ice cream parlor, with wire hearts and curlicues on the seat backs. My tv sits on a mint green cabinet. The sliding glass doors to the balcony have Minnie Mouse and pink heart decals stuck to them. As well as a poster of a popular Korean pop singer. I feel like I’m in a teenager’s dream room. I’m not going to fight the decor, but embrace it. I will have the ultimate “sweet 16” apartment by the time I am finished.

First mission of the day – to go to Nais Mart (pronounced Nice Mart-Ha) to get household appliances. It’s sort of the Korean version of Wal-Mart. Has just about everything. Including the ever present techno Christmas carols piped over the loudspeaker. That’s all I’ve heard since I’ve arrived. In restaurants, in bars, in stores, on the streets. Four of us go together, me, Chanta, Mark, and Ted. We each purchase what we feel we must have (my purchases included a white plastic bathroom shelf, pink and purple plastic coat hangers, some food items – not sure what – but the pictures look good, and a red rice cooker). Since I bought a rice cooker, I figured I would buy rice as well. Nearly impossible to find a bag smaller than 10 kilograms. I wouldn’t be able to eat that much rice in the whole year that I’m here. After much searching and a lot of sign language, I find a 2 kilo bag.

Chanta and I share a cab back to our apartment. Normally we tell the cab driver the area of town we’re in (suseong-gu) and the name of a major department store that is only a couple of blocks from our house (DongA) then walk the rest of the way. But we had lots of gear. We decide to try to give specific directions. I had grabbed a piece of old mail from my mailbox before leaving the house. I showed the address to the taxi driver. He looked puzzled (we live on a small alley, so it’s not surprising he didn’t know the address). With much sign language, we were able to guide the cab driver back to our apartment. Victory!

We put our purchases away and embark on the next mission – lunch. We had noticed a new restaurant was opening (by virtue of the helium baloon arch and dancers in white go-go boots) near our house. It looks good, so we decide to try it. We take off our shoes and are led to a table with a burner in the center. We sit on the floor and look around. There are no pictures, the menus (on the wall) are all script. Korean script, of course. The waiter comes and asks us what we want. At least that’s what we think he’s asking. We point to the first thing on the wall. He asks us if we want 3. (I know the numbers). We say 2. And then the food comes. Amazing. Bowls and bowls of salads and vegetables. Then he turns on the burner and places more vegetables on it. As well as kim chi. I am loving the kim chi. And served warm it is so good. Then, another platter with what looks like the thickest bacon I’ve ever seen. He fries that up for us as well. A most delicious lunch. I look in my phrase book for the phrase “this is delicious.” Mashi isso summnida. Chanta is laughing. She thinks they won’t be able to understand me. The waiter comes back, I try my new phrase. He understands me, but does laugh. A lot. Okay, so maybe the pronunciation isn’t quite there yet, but the meaning was conveyed. At least I think it was . . .

Update on what I can say in Korean. Thank you. Please. Yes. No. Maybe. Hello. Numbers. How much? I’d like this. And now, this is delicious. It’s amazing how much meaning you can convey with those phrases and a smile.

As we were leaving, the owner handed us a box. I guess when a store/restaurant opens they give gifts to the customers. We open the box – a Hello Kitty dish towel! Score! Another item for the teen dream apartment!

We’re off to the furniture district. Wandering throughout alleys and alleys of small furniture stores. Each seems to have a specialty. All chairs. All desks. All nightstands. Chanta finds a wicker shelf. I’m looking for a wardrobe (no closets here). I see a baby blue one. Oooo – that would fit in well. But then, I see a silver and white one that has a full length mirror on one of the doors. Blue? Silver? The silver wins. I need a mirror. As I walking, I see the perfect nightstand. Pink. With green sides. We pay for our purchases and the women explains (through sign language) that they will deliver the furniture right then. I show her the old piece of mail. She nods, the driver motions for us to get in the truck. We do. And once again, successfully navigate back to our apartment.

Unload our purchases with the help of the delivery man, and we’re off again. This time to the electronics market. Or so we thought. We tell the taxi driver where to take us and he drops us off in a market. But each alley is a different ware. One alley is all food. Another is all clothes. Another is all shoes. Another is all toiletries. But no electronics. We say hello to a passing Korean and say CD player? She busts out with Korean, assuming we understand. We smile and say thank you and follow where she pointed. And sure enough, there are the electronics. Leave a short while later with a couple of more additions. A periwinkle CD player. Oh, yeah. A Creamsicle orange toaster and coffee maker set that Chanta and I plan to share. I will have the dream pad soon enough . . .