During the first month or so that we were here, nothing overly eventful happened. Our school has been great, and it would be difficult for me to find something to complain about at it. Hopefully this continues to be the case for the remainder of our stay.
December has been much more interesting. Korea has a very low crime rate, and I don't think I've ever felt threatened here. That being said, one Friday, after playing cards with our friends, Keith and Genny, a Korean was threatened by me. Not because of my gigantic 5'9 frame, or my scale tilting weight, but because I was carrying a weapon when I got into a taxi. It's true, I've been running with some Korean gangs since I got here, so I always carry a weapon. Keith had been holding onto some of our things we left behind before we went back to Canada, and before we left, I packed a few things into my backpack. One of them happened to be a frying pan. An item rarely used as a weapon, except by housewives on rare occasions in movies. They usually either hit a burglar or accidentally hit their husbands, thinking he is a burglar. Never once, in the history of movies has a taxi driver been attacked by a frying pan. Unless, it's typical scenario in Korean cinema.
Once we got into the taxi, the driver's eyes immediately focused on the frying pan.
"Why?" he asks
"Why what?" I reply.
"Why pan?" At this point, I realize that he thinks there's a good possibility that I'm planning to smash him with the frying pan. Possibly in the hopes of saving myself about $5. Being as smooth as I am, I'm forced to tell a small story with my limited Korean to calm his worries.
"Chinggu (friend) present," by no means was this a nice frying pan, nor was it was new, but that simple story calmed his fears and we made it home safely.
The following night, Kristin and I attended a GOAL Christmas benefit. It's an organization for Korean adoptees. We were invited by Richard and his girlfriend Stephanie. For $40, you get all you can eat and drink (beer and wine) for two hours, plus you support a good organization. However, to attend the benefit, you had to bring a $5 secret Santa gift. I never realized how hard it is to find something decent for $5, and decided I would just get a gift certificate from Starbucks. I waited until the last minute, and just before we got into a taxi to go to the benefit I got my gift. Problem was, Starbucks doesn't sell $5 gift cards. Only $10. With no other option, and fear that I might miss the start of food and drinks, I bought it. Spending double my limit! This night was beginning to get a bit expensive.
Once we arrived at the beautiful Novotel, I notice a lovely new Mercedes parked at the front doors. Its looking like a pretty decent spot. Kristin and I bought six raffle tickets each and headed into the restaurant where everything was being held. Following some food, drinks, and a limbo contest (which I feel I did considerably well in for an awkward guy), it was time for the prize drawing to begin. There were tons of different prizes to win, including a few Ipods, and tons of gift certificates. Kristin, not wanting to be in the spotlight, asked me to go on stage and accept a gift if she were to win. Using her psychic powers, she decides to tell me that she'll win with ticket 647. Sure enough, about 5 prizes in, 647 is called and I rush up to the stage yelling "WINNER" to accept the prize. No idea why I shouted "WINNER". This wasn't Bingo, and letting everyone know you were the winner wasn't required, but boy oh boy did it ever feel good. What was I the "WINNER" of..... a $50 gift certificate from Outback Steakhouse. Pimp.
A short while later, one of my numbers was called. Again, in the same manner as before, I yell winner, rush up to the stage and accept another gift certificate to a Korean seafood buffet restaurant.
Oddly enough, the restaurant is called "Viking Maison". I have no clue why a restaurant self proclaimed to be a Korean seafood buffet, would use the term Viking, and then Maison in its name. I don't believe the Vikings were Korean, and I'm pretty certain that they didn't call their homes "maison," like the French. Back to my story though....
After accepting my award, I notice a few boos from the crowd. The first time I was booed for really doing nothing wrong. After sitting back down with Kristin, she decides if we were to win again, it would be a better idea for her to accept any prize. I agreed. I hear the number 657 called out. I just won with 658, could I actually have won with back to back numbers. Ohhhh yeah!!! I had no idea what prize they called, and thinking it could possibly be something really exciting I hop up and once again yell "WINNER". I go to the stage, forgetting all about my deal with Kristin and I accept a Mercedes Benz box. Confused over what the hell could be in the box, and also distracted by the 300 or so people that are booing me, I smile and bow to the crowd. I've never been booed this much before, and it honestly felt pretty good. I couldn't help my smile and enjoy it. Could I have won that sweet car by the front door? Nope, after opening the box I realize I have only won 2 Mercedes Benz coffee mugs.
Since I've had a few glasses of wine by this point, I decide that this is an awesome gift for my parents for Christmas. Obviously, they would be thrilled to have matching coffee mugs. When I woke the next morning, I quickly realized that giving my folks these mugs as a Christmas gift would be utterly retarded. First, my parents don't drive a Mercedes, and they've never owned one. Second, I'm certain that in their cupboard, there dozens of mugs, and that many of them match. Last, if I gave them the mugs, I wouldn't be able to drink coffee out of them every morning.
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