Week one of learning Korean kicked my ass. It wasn’t an all-out brawl exactly, but I’m certainly going to wake up tomorrow with an extensive collection of psychic bruises. Right now, I think it’ll be better to distract myself from—rather than dwell in—the trauma, so I’m not going to get into all the gory details. Suffice it to say that Korean is a tough language made tougher by the various gifts and curses specific to my brain. I am not, what you would call, mentally spry. I can think my way through a problem well enough, but when it comes to speed, I am at a great disadvantage. Unfortunately, an intensive language class is a kind of long-distance sprint. And I’m feelin’ it, yo. Not to play the age card, but boy, 27 is awfully late to be learning a whole new alphabet. Somehow, I’m actually worse at Korean today than I was three classes ago. Even very simple things are getting frustratingly jumbled and I’m starting to second-guess myself. Since I speak Spanish more smoothly when a little drunk, maybe I should enjoy a pre-class cocktail or two? I’m sure that would solve all my problems. Read more
Posts tagged ‘D’oh!’
Last week, in an effort to increase my meager sweater collection, I decided to visit one of Seoul’s largest fashion districts, Dongdaemun market. A guidebook I’ve been using had this to say on Dongdaemun:
Twenty-six shopping malls, 30,000 specialty shops and 50,000 manufacturers. All within a 10-block radius. . . . [F]or fashion junkies looking for unique designs at decent prices, Dongdaemun is the place to go. Read more
Right now, we’ve made it a little more than half way across the Pacific Ocean. We’ve been flying for about seven hours, and the creaky joints of a long-haul flight are just now really setting in. Oh for the excesses of extreme wealth. If I were a well-heeled lunatic, I would furnish for myself a yoga studio on the plane. That would feel awesome right about now. Alas…
How have my feelings changed over the last few hours? Well, this is all certainly much more concrete. We are literally moving to Korea as I type this. It’s bonkers. The flight has been uneventful, so I’ve allowed myself the luxury of not thinking too hard about anything. I’ve let myself fall into a (de)light(ful) novel that has been happily consuming without taxing my noggin. The last three weeks have earned both of us a little break if only for the duration of the flight. Good thing the flight is so long; there’s plenty of time to unwind.
I can feel both of us easing into this situation. The mild bickering we’ve aimed at each other is receding and I’m starting to hook back into what’s in front of me instead of dreading/dreaming. The result of this is that, thankfully, things are starting to feel funny again. Take for example, this little tidbit: when we went through security, the TSA agents pulled one of our carry-on bags out of the line for a more thorough inspection. Upon opening the bag, he found a large hammer, a screwdriver and, wait for it… a box-cutter and two packs of fresh blades. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a box-cutter. Somehow, in all the packing and shuffling of the last three days, we transferred our “Utility Pack” from the checked luggage to the carry-on. Shockingly, the TSA confiscated all three items. No matter how assiduously you check and recheck, something like this always slips through. Considering the number of discrete items/tasks we’ve had to work through, we should consider ourselves expert jetsetters if that’s the worst mistake we make on this move.
Do you have any stories of travel/move related airheadedness? I trust we’re in good company, but it will soothe the bruised ego to add proof to supposition.