I love living in this country. I am not going to lie. It has it's hard points like all things in life. For example, trying to go grocery shopping (between the absence of many familiar products, my inability to read the product names, nutrition information and ingredients, and the strangers who obsess over my child whenever I stop moving, it gets a little dicey at times). I quite often prefer spending the extra money, leaving my cupboards bare, and eating out twice a day. And then there is life without a clothes dryer...But on the other hand, there is so much to love! So much to discover...so much to learn...so much to experience...and isn't that most of what this existence is for, experiences? Sometimes, all I am experiencing is reflection. Yes, I have much more time to reflect, primarily because I don't speak Korean (yes, I try, but let's be honest learning 2 phrases a day hasn't exactly made me fluent yet). I must have been such a jabbermouth before that I didn't get to experience this wonderful sensation as often, but now I have fallen in love with it and see what the introverts have always held so dear. I find myself daydreaming my own new philosophies as I stroll about the world on the other side. However, this particular Sunday I left my realm of reflection that so often occurs when I visit Korean's homes. Usually, I chase after Lucy while Dave speaks with the men and the women work in the kitchen and I am left with a darling daughter and my thoughts to entertain me. This Sunday was different. This Sunday I was invited. Such a wonderful invitation. This Sunday I was a Korean (well from my perspective, not theirs of course). I entrusted Lucy to Dave, while I worked alongside the women in the kitchen. So joyous to work in the kitchen? Yes. As much as I have always loved this country, this was the first time I belonged in this country. Yes. My blond hair, blue eyes, and American smile belonged here. They taught me how to make KimBap (Kim-seaweed, Bap-Rice). Rice and vegetables, Kimchi and crab, wrapped in seaweed.
And they taught me. A child's meal fit for a paper sack, yet it warmed my heart and made me belong. They could have taught me to make a meal fit for a king, but they chose the Korean Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich, and that is what made me belong. To work alongside them, in their element, making what they make best, changed a part of my heart into a Korean. And they ate them. The children, the husbands, the wives, they ate them. No, they ate mine. Even the ugly skinny KimBaps that the American made, they ate...and it filled my soul. It was only a few minutes, but for those few, I was a Korean and now I belong. Well, as much as an American girl can, I guess? I know that was a little dramatic, but these are the cultural experiences I have been craving my whole life. Learning to cook new food alongside Korean mothers...well, it fulfilled a part of me, that part that drove me to leave my home and come here in the first place, to seek culture and adventure and now someday, back in America, I will be able to share it with you...all because I was invited.
I am sure they will never realize how much this kind gesture meant to me, as I am sure you would feel strange being thanked for showing someone the joys of making a PBJ, but I was just thrilled to be a part of it all, rather than just the American Bystander who can't do anything to help. It's all in the experience...
And they taught me. A child's meal fit for a paper sack, yet it warmed my heart and made me belong. They could have taught me to make a meal fit for a king, but they chose the Korean Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich, and that is what made me belong. To work alongside them, in their element, making what they make best, changed a part of my heart into a Korean. And they ate them. The children, the husbands, the wives, they ate them. No, they ate mine. Even the ugly skinny KimBaps that the American made, they ate...and it filled my soul. It was only a few minutes, but for those few, I was a Korean and now I belong. Well, as much as an American girl can, I guess? I know that was a little dramatic, but these are the cultural experiences I have been craving my whole life. Learning to cook new food alongside Korean mothers...well, it fulfilled a part of me, that part that drove me to leave my home and come here in the first place, to seek culture and adventure and now someday, back in America, I will be able to share it with you...all because I was invited. 
I am sure they will never realize how much this kind gesture meant to me, as I am sure you would feel strange being thanked for showing someone the joys of making a PBJ, but I was just thrilled to be a part of it all, rather than just the American Bystander who can't do anything to help. It's all in the experience...
