One of the weirder things about being KA (Korean-American) here is seeing Caucasians. Whenever I see someone who looks like a white American, I have to sort of fight the urge to walk up to them and say, "Hey! Are you American? So am I!" It's a bit like being a movie star and seeing another movie star, I imagine, where you and the star you see are both at the instant-recognition-by-people-in-the-street level in the fame hierarchy, but unlike the people on the street, you both sort of belong to the same exclusive club. So you nod at each other with an embarrassed smile that says, "Uh, I know you, and you know me, and we both make tens of millions of dollars in the same rarified career and are on magazine covers every other week, but I don't really know you so I'll just say hey from over here." Or maybe you flash a world-famous grin and walk over and say "Hi, I've always admired your work," when really you're saying, "Hey! You're famous, and so I am, and here we are, being famous together -- isn't this fabulous?"

I always feel like this whenever I spot an American, but then I get drawn up short by the realization that Mr. All American or Ms. All American doesn't know that I'm American. To them, I'm just another Korean staring at them because white people are still a little unusual in Korea. Maybe I'm about to approach them and tell them I'd like to get to know them and practice my English, which is what happened to my white American friend Wendy, who is part of a mission team hoping to get into North Korea. Or maybe I'm staring because I'm just not used to seeing blonde hair and blue eyes (yes, they are still a head-turning sight here).

Point is, Mr./Ms. American has no idea that I too sometimes long for a chili cheese dog, or that I too think that Korean subway etiquette has a long way to go, or that I too think that dog-shaped cell phone covers are weird. It's quite a peculiar feeling to think you're part of the club, and with a jolt, realize that the other members don't recognize you.

The same thing happens in the States, of course, and any Asian American can recognize the hesitant, "Can you speak English?" demeanor of someone who's not sure if you're a Japanese tourist or not. Most of us shrug it off as an inevitable result of looking different and just go on with ordering food, giving directions, or whatnot in our perfect American English, accented with whatever regional slang and pronunciation we grew up with. There have been times, though, when I think with exasperation, "Can you people just stop it with the hesitancy and accept that there are people who don't look like you who are nevertheless just as American as you are?"

But at other times, I really can't blame people for the hesitation. Several years ago, I was interning in New York during the summer, and it was one of those awful muggy days in the city. I was tired and hot and would have sold my first child if it meant I didn't have to walk into the warm wet dirty blanket of air in the subway. Finally the train came along and I trudged into the car, one of the last to enter, so that when the doors closed, I found myself looking at the reflection of a heat-flushed, tired-looking Asian woman, and thinking, "Wow, that Asian girl looks tired," before I realized, "That's me, you idiot."
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Last night I had dinner with Woon-gil, a colleague from work who's interested in getting his master's degree in the U.S. We talked about various schools and such, and then, because there's no Christian like a Korean Christian, I was treated to a long story about how he found God, which was actually quite touching, but my goodness, proselytizing is a rather transparent art, isn't it?

Okay, that was an unnecessary cheap shot that was weak anyway, because of course proselytizing is transparent. I must say, Christianity is quite an optimistic religion in that respect, since anyone can be saved from the burning fires of hell if they believe. Perhaps I have a large sign on my forehead that reads "Pagan: Save Me", but this is the second time since I've been here that someone I don't know very well has told me about finding their way to Christ. Unfortunately, if I have any religious beliefs, they tend toward Buddhism, and I just feel incredibly awkward and embarrassed when someone is very clearly out to convert me.
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Tomorrow I'm off from work and school, as it is the lunar new year (Chinese New Year) on Saturday. Sei hei bok manhi bahduh sey yo. I wish you all a blessing-filled year.

Random fact about Her Highness Helen: on the solar calendar, my brother was born on March 27, 1973, and I was born on March 23, 1976. On the lunar calendar, we were born on the same day, three years apart. My mother always insists that she planned it that way.