Why I’m Happy

Son-Seong Song invited me to join the morning calligraphy session. Score! I get to hang out with the retired Korean men. I love old people. I love how they talk. How they tell stories. How they interact with each other. As soon as I entered today, the four elderly men and Son-Seong Song stopped what they were doing, invited me to join them on the couches, made coffee, and we sat together, sipping coffee and talking. Son-Seong Song asked me if I knew the name of a flower he had in a vase. I looked; I wasn’t sure what it was. It looked almost like a crocus, but was more hardened, a darker, almost burgundy, purple, and it drooped, like it was sad. “Mola.” I don’t know. “Grandmother flower!” And the men exploded with laughter. All out slapping their knees guffawing. What did I miss? Son-Seong Song looked at me, pointed to how the flower drooped, bent over like he was walking with a cane, and said again, “Grandmother flower!” And the laughter began again. I asked, “Why not Grandfather flower?” The men almost fell off the couches they were laughing so hard. And it really was a question asked in earnest.

Spring has arrived. I didn’t have to wear gloves or a scarf today.

I made a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. Which in itself is a perfectly good reason to be happy. But, I have finally found cheese (not a lot of that here in Korea). Yes, it’s processed, but it’s a high quality of processed cheese. If that’s not an oxymoron.

Masha (a student) gave me not one, but two plaster of paris dinosaurs she made. And they are painted with flourescent colors. I love a child’s sense of what looks good.

I bought fresh vegetables from the street vendor. I understood what he said. I handed him the correct amount of money.

As I was carrying my vegetables home, an old, very bedraggled, very stooped lady wandered towards me. She wasn’t walking in a direct path, so I was trying to anticipate which direction she was going to go to avoid her path. The only word I can use to describe the look on her face is “scowl.” As she came closer, I smiled and said, “Annong ha-shmnikka” (more respectful than annong ha-sayo) very quietly. She looked up at me, stared a moment with penetrating eyes, then flashed the largest, most toothless grin I’ve ever seen. And continued on her way.