Ow

Went to taekwondo for the first time in 4 months last night, and am paying for it today in sore legs, arms, sides, everything. Flubbed all the patterns except one, and even forgot the progression of the pre-workout stretches. But -- it was as great as it always has been, and though a fair number of people I was used to seeing are no longer there, there were enough familiar faces to feel at ease.

Actually, there are two women there I met for the first time last night, and one is studying to become a police officer while the other is studying to become a military officer. Wow.

I did get hit up for English language lessons, though, from an eager mother of two boys. Grr. I tried to demur, saying that I had no teaching experience, but was not able to definitively shut that idea down. I think I might have done that when I first arrived in Korea, but I've learned that that isn't the way things are done here. Must think of a polite roundabout way to refuse. Or just avoid her.

Also in the ouch news: yesterday, in salute to the very warm spring weather, I wore my neat little DSW black slingbacks for the first time in months and -- am paying for it today. Blister the size of China. Started limping about an hour into my day, and then broke down and bought knee-high nylons, which cut down the friction a bit, but still -- ow. Walking back from taekwondo class down a steep, steep hill didn't help matters.

Oh, by the way, I figured out yesterday a way to explain why I dislike spring. It came to me as I hobbled home and paused to look at a magnolia tree that, until two days ago, was magnificently in bloom. Each night for the past week or so, I've paused to appreciate its blossoms, illuminated by the streetlight just beside the tree, marvel at the beauty of spring, and consider rethinking my position on this particular season. But last night, I stopped and looked and saw that most of the blossoms had fallen.

That's why I hate spring. You have this brilliant, gaudy, inspirational burst of colors and smells, and it all goes away in about a week. Goodbyes, goodbyes. You seeing a theme here? I don't want to say goodbye, I don't want to let go, and that goes for spring's charms too. I'm not immune to them -- I enjoy the pretty blossoms as much as the next guy. But they all wither and die away in a few days!

I know, I know, live for the moment. Appreciate what you get when you get it. Stop seeing the death of things in their birth. Okay. I know.

In any case, with spring rapidly turning into summer, my spirits seem to be lifting. Had a quite productive conversation today with my language teacher from last term, in which we decided to meet once or twice a week for language exchange. Bought a grammar book and everything, which should go a long way to keeping me on the study schedule.

Also started -- or re-started, I should say! -- the book of poems and illustrations by a well-known Buddhist monk (who is at least as famous for his looks as well as his artistic talent). I still have to look up the majority of words, but I seem to be able to capture the feeling better than a year ago. The section I'm reading is quite sad, actually -- this particular monk was given to the monastery by his mother, who had promised a son to the temple, and the poems so far deal with his sadness as a young child who missed his mother.

Last in the news for today, I finally got around to seeing As the Flag Waves, a movie following the story of two brothers in the Korean War. It's in some respects similar to Saving Private Ryan, even down to the scenes of the present-day surviving brother that bookend the story (though done much better than the Ryan scenes). A bit too many battle scenes; I thought they started losing their efficacy the third time around. Nevertheless, we were all sobbing by the end, as we were meant to.

Even as I was dabbing at my eyes, though, I was thinking that the most moving parts of the film for me were those dealing with the family of the two brothers, and the images of people packing up their possessions to leave Seoul. My parents were both born in the capital in fall 1948; the Korean War broke out on June 25, 1950. Both sets of grandparents were among the thousands who took their things and fled. By June 28, Seoul was in North Korean hands. It was not retaken by UN forces until March 15, 1951.

I usually avoid war movies, but I've been more interested in seeing them since I've been here. It's so near, physically, psychologically. No matter how I say it, it going to sound ridiculous, but ... war has got to be the most horrible thing in the world. I think that's the most important realization I came back from Cambodia with. There too, people sharing the same blood, the same faces, the same country killed each other for years.

In more current news, the Parliamentary elections are the day after tomorrow. You can tell because at every golldurned subway stop there are several pairs of women (mostly, but some men too) bowing deeply to all the passersby and braying, "Please remember [name of candidate], [number on the poll], thank you very much." It'll be interesting to see how much the president's party benefits from the country's anger and embarrassment about the recent impeachment.