Happy Thanksgiving, all!

BC and I have had some serious laughs the last few Turkey Days, so I'm missing her and her wicked mashed potato making skills today. Two years ago (my goodness, really that long ago?) today, I had both hands in a big 'ole bird, yelling, "The pits are still frozen! The pits are still frozen!" while BC dialed home to ask the perennial question: "Uh, mom, if the turkey's armpits are still frozen, can we still stick it in the oven?"

I celebrated Turkey Day last Saturday, with a bunch of missionaries and their friends. We had rotisserie chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy and rolls and sweet potato pie and someone even managed to rustle up some of that fake cranberry sauce that splooches out of the can (loooove that stuff). And, of course, kimchee.

My classmate Wendy, an American missionary, invited me to the party last week. From age 9 to age 15, Wendy lived in China with her missionary parents and two brothers. She came back to Texas and experienced INTENSE culture shock.

"I finally figured out what it was," she said over dinner two weeks ago. "In China, we played like children but thought like adults. In the U.S., the kids acted like adults, with their cars and makeup and everything, but inside, thought like children."

She went to Baylor for college and became an elementary school teacher. One day, a man came to speak about the plight of North Koreans at her church, and she was deeply moved. So much so that she signed up to become part of a mission to go there and minister to the people.

You could say that missionary-ism is in Wendy's blood -- her younger brother is currently doing missionary work in Sudan. And you could definitely say that traveling is her blood too: her other brother lives in Japan with his Japanese wife.

Seven other people round out Wendy's mission group: three couples and a baby. One couple consists of two Korean Americans. Another couple are the parents of baby Jared. And the third couple consists of one of the most drop dead beautiful women I have ever met: half black and half Korean, Winae grew up in Korea until she was eight, then moved to Milwaukee with her mother. I cannot even imagine how difficult it must have been to grow up half black in Korea. And then to move to middle America when you're in third grade? Fuggedaboudit.

Winae is married to one of the whitest men I have ever met: Jeff, who grew up in the Valley (my 'hood!) and whose ancestor gave the sermon to his fellow Puritans the day after the Mayflower landed at Plymouth Rock.

(I kid thee not. Could I make up stuff like this?)

After we ate, Jeff talked a little bit about the meaning of Thanksgiving to the group, some of whom were experiencing their first Thanksgiving meal of their lives. He kept away from the controversial aspects of Native Americans and all that, and just focused on the faith of the Puritans.

Then we played Uno.

Then we talked.

Then we ate dessert.

Then we went home.

Thus ended a very simple and god-filled evening. I had a good time. I ate a lot. I learned how to play Uno. I met Silvia, an Italian woman who is a Korean Foundation Fellow, and whom I saw again last night at the gayageum concert. I talked a long time with Janet, a New York Korean American whom I insulted right off the bat by guessing she was 27 when she's only 23 (but she didn't hold it against me). The only time I felt a bit strange was when I was talking to Jeff and he asked if I went to church in the Valley, and I said I didn't, that my family was Buddhist.

Lots to be thankful for, I'm happy to say. I'm learning Korean, living in a foreign country, making enough money, meeting tons of nice, interesting people, and spending lots of time with my dad. You know, when I came to this country, the goal at the top of my list was to learn Korean, but I'm realizing that seeing my dad every weekend and hanging out with him is something that I will remember all my life. As a number of you have pointed out, that alone is worth the trip. I feel very fortunate that I'm able to do this.

Interesting tidbit learnt at breakfast: Christmas here is like New Year's in the States, and New Year's, like Christmas. Christmas is a time to get together with your significant other, go out with friends, and have a grand old time. I told Ajuma that if someone goes out in the States on Christmas, people assume they don't have family or that their family is far away, and so feel rather sorry for them. She said that here, if you don't go out at Christmas, people assume you don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Hee.