Trip Down Memory Lane

As I was working on my Korean homework tonight, my computer randomly selected tunes to keep my brain humming as it chugged along trying to figure out the complicated algorithms of Korean speak.
I had to stop and start belting out loud like a true cantante, though, when this great song came on.

La luna y el Toro.

This song reminds me of nights spent by the Alhambra, watching the sun set amidst a handful of tourists. It also brings me back to the mindless tune of walking the Camino de Santiago, a 743km trek through Northern Spain. It reminds me of the time I asked a corner store attendant for jueves de pollo, trying to buy chicken eggs but asking for chicken Thursdays instead. It took a lot of mimicking before that one was finally figured out.
It ALSO reminds me of other sleepless nights which might be crude to discuss here.

So, for your enjoyment too, acquí a loose translation from Spanish: the story of the little bull who is in love with the moon.

The moon was combing herself

in the mirrors of the river

The bull was watching

hidden in the bushes

When the happy morning arrives

and the moon escapes from the river

the bull gets in the water

ramming because she is gone

The little bull is in love with the moon

leaving the herd at night

and is painted with poppies and olives

with a bell put on by the herdsman

The rosemary in the mountains

kiss his forehead

Stars and lights bathe him in silver

The bull is brave, of a courageous breed

His hooves look like colored fans

The moon comes out tonight

with a long black gown

and a bull is looking

between the face and the shade.

And in the face of the river´s water

the moon sleeps

'græm ər

I was proofing somebody’s work today and was stunned to realize that this person had spelled the word "grammar" three different ways...one of them being, of course, the way anal, dictionary-prone people (like yours truly) would opt for: grammar. But also sparsed through the text in black and white, alas, were the objectionable grammer and even fouler grammor.

I pondered this for a while. Then something I’d read not too long ago came to mind:
It's a damn poor mind that can only think of one way to spell a word.

Point taken. I made the necessary changes and opened the next file.

Where's Waldo?

Can you spot a white hat, a yellow arrow, a blue man, and a face mask?

A friend of mine came up from Busan over the weekend. We spent the best part of Saturday exploring Namdaemun Market and Insadong, strolling down the busy alleys, entering random shops at leisure. I finished my Christmas shopping!

It was nice to catch up, sitting in front of a coffee shop window well into the night, watching as Seoul passed us by...

It was also exquisite to eat a hamburger.

:)

Selling Codeine is a Lucrative Business

I know what you're thinking. But I didn't. I kept my codeine for medication purposes. This adorable gathering is simply one more thing to add to the joys of living in Seoul. People here love life. I have often happened upon a grouping of people (typically older) dancing away and having a jolly good time to music blasting in the middle of who-knows-where. Best of all, you're always invited to join in.

Rambobette

Today was a Rambobette kind of a day. Let me explain…

My brother and I grew up in the hood. We were poor. We didn’t have any money. (Ok, not entirely true, but this fits better with my story – we still lived in a hood, though. The kind where your next door neighbour is a tramp and the older boys hold breakdancing competitions on old pieces of carboard lying wet and flat).

So. We didn’t have any money and spent many hours outside until dark, coming up with ways to keep ourselves entertained. My parents were definitely not the overbearing, overprotective kind. One of our favourite games for a while was playing Rambo. My brother was Rambo, and I was…Rambobette! Because my brother is blind, Rambobette could kick Rambo’s ass on any given day. Rambobette was strong. Rambobette was fierce. Rambobette took care of business, if you know what I mean.
(She also wore tighty whities on her head because, in all honesty, BOBETTE means UNDERWEAR in French - a fact which provided more entertainment than the actual impersonation itself).
Regardless. TODAY WAS A RAMBOBETTE KIND OF A DAY. In case you’re wondering, I dressed up soberly to go to work. The undies were where they should have been but I felt so strong and powerful after days of sickness: I massacred tons of work with barely any effort. I roared rumbustiously every time my computer froze. I effortlessly picked my desk drawer up after it unexplicably fell to the floor for the tenth time this month. I strenuously and perilously exercised my voice muscles again and again trying to get kids to walk, not run, down the hall. I hazardously approached the Big Bad Boss in an attempt to win the right to no longer wear face-masks all day long. I battled foes, alone in the midst of adversity (except when the bell would ring and all my colleagues would come into the Teachers’ Room for their 5-minute breaks). I even spewed off enigmatic, lackadaisical Rambobette-type statements. Like this morning, when the Big Bad Boss asked me how I was feeling and if I was doing any better, I said: “I’m fine, Big J, don’t worry about me. The mucus is finally coming in.” It was exactly the type of Wait a minute. Pause. Rewind. Yep, that’s what he said. -kind of Rambo moment.

It was that sort of a day. It felt great to be back at work, flexing muscles that have been resting idle for days.
_______________
*The author wishes you to know that she later made up for kicking Rambo’s butt when they were young by letting him drive their parents’ car when they were teenagers. She gave him the driving lessons nobody else was willing to provide. Rambo, albeit blind, should always be able to hop in a getaway car. It’s a question of safety, period.

**The author also wishes you to know that the Big Bad Boss, or Big J, was only Big and Bad for the purposes of this story. She is actually tiny and, well, quite easy to get along with. Honestly.

Gratitude With a Capital G for the Big G

Sometimes, all you need is a sign. And it makes you smile, and forfeit the urge to throw up, when it makes its appearance. Dear God…um, Yahweh, Allah, Bhagwan or…Buddha?! (well, in any case, you know who You are – wherever and, incidentally, whatever You actually are). “Thank you. I get it.”

Pinot Gets a Time-Out

"Can I come out, now?"

How Pinot got his Name

"Who dared put a water bottle along with the bottles of wine? Must.Fix.This."

-Pinot, true to his name

*The author wishes to state that those 4 bottles were drunk over a somewhat long period of time but are patiently awaiting by the front door to be put away into the recycling. The author pleads laziness, not drunkenness.

C for Codeine

The last month at school has been pretty hectic. Two teachers were victims of pneumonia (one of them twice), one had to have her appendix removed, and three were victims of the much-talked about and dreaded swine flu. One teacher had to have his hand operated, one fell off a motorbike, and one…well, I won’t mention what this last person when through. Eeww! The school’s staff is split up on two floors: morning teachers on the 5th floor, and p.m. teachers on the 2nd floor. Fifteen of us work on the 5th floor, elbow-to-elbow in a small, rectangular room. I say small because, if I whisper, the person in the desk at the other end of the room can still make out what I’m saying. One of my colleagues, Jennifer, has recently affectionately started calling it The Petri Dish. Jennifer was one of the victims of pneumonia, so bear with her, please. I’m surprised she still has a sense of humour. To top it all off, all the teachers have at least experienced one, (and, for most, quite a few) of the following symptoms:

-deep, painful chest cough
-headache
-runny nose
-fatigue
-vomiting (sorry, it had to be said)

-fever

In an effort to keep us all rosy-cheeked, the school has kindly offered to pay for the seasonal flu vaccine AND has imposed mandatory wearing of face-masks. As much as these made me chuckle when I first landed on Korean soil, I must say that I did feel safer behind my tiny cloth barrier.

Still, sick teachers mean that the healthy ones have to compensate with a lot of subbing, which tends to take a toll and perpetuates the circle of sickness. I prided myself on keeping the diseases at bay. Until this weekend, I didn’t even have a cough… I’m built like a horse, and usually quite proud of it.

But it hit me on Sunday. And, again, in typical Mélanie fashion, it hit me all out of whack. I didn’t have the flu, but I didn’t have a cold, either. I’m still pondering that one, too. My symptoms (intense throwing-up, perpetual headache, raw throat) and lack of others (fever, runny nose, muscle ache, throat & nose mucus) threw the doctor off. He said they were problematic. Of course, I already knew that.

So he debated, out loud, over what he was going to prescribe me in order to provide me with some relief.

Before we go any further, I probably should mention that I’m the type of cool person that can have a fairly good time just by ingesting a gravol. They make me laugh hysterically, sometimes to the point of tears. Not always good when you’re suffering from nausea, but I digress. That, in any case, is another story.

To make a long tale short, the good doctor (whose name, to my great discomfort, was Dr. Kwak) prescribed, amongst a variety of other things…codeine. It’s true. I stared silently at him for a while, but left with my prescription, and the beginning of a money-making scheme, in hand. The reception nurse wanted me to wait, because you apparently cannot have a codeine prescription filled at the pharmacy. Only hospitals do it. I went home with two weeks’ worth of roundish, little white tablets.

When I stepped into my apartment, I conducted my own little research. Here is what I found out:

According to Wikipedia, codeine is an alkaloid found in opium and other poppy saps like Papaver bracteatum, the Iranian poppy. Codeine is classed as an illegal drug in Greece, and individuals possessing it could conceivably be arrested, even if they were legitimately prescribed it in another country.

Drugs.com states that codeine can cause side effects that may impair your thinking or reactions. They warn that you should be careful if you drive or do anything that requires you to be awake and alert. They say you should not stop using codeine suddenly, or you could have unpleasant withdrawal symptoms. They advise you to talk to your doctor about how to avoid withdrawal symptoms when stopping the medication.

So, if you do decide to come knocking at my door, please be advised that I TAKE CASH ONLY.

Energizer Bunny Antithesis

This is either the epitome of laziness or a sign that Pinot is getting too fat.

Fuck House or A Knack for Languages

-Ok Méranie... (sometimes, L is pronounced as R in Korea – that’s the way this nurse seemed intent on pronouncing my name, despite my meek attempts at correcting him – I do hate sounding rude!) Please relax while I strap this machine to your left shoulder. You will feeling a fullness of the ear, like pressure bean hurt, but please don’t comment on it, just, you know, relax. Then wind will blowing.

I nod. (If you’d been living here a year, you’d be used to not understanding much, too)

-Ok, Méranie. Now, fuck house.

-(?! Now, this one definitely throws me for a loop).

-Fuck house…NOW!

I try to ignore the sense urgency in his voice as I inquisitively stare at him, trying to gather from his body language if I should keep sitting in my chair or stand up and do...something. I don’t see any houses, and there is some type of medical device strapped to me that definitely impedes movement.

He returns my stare kindly, and repeats:

-Fuck house on the sound, Méranie…NOW!

And then it dawns on me. I smile at him, relax, and FOCUS on the sounds that are blasting through the contraption protruding from my ear.

________________________________________

**In case you were wondering, "pressure bean hurt" doesn't really hurt, it is merely quite uncomfortable.

Dr.’s Appointment or Just my Luck

-Hi. My name is Mélanie. I’d like to make an appointment to see a Dr. today, if possible, please.

-Ok. Why do you want to consult a doctor?

-Because I fear that if I don’t my family will have to arrange for a funeral very soon. (Of course, that’s not exactly what I said, although that was the general message I was trying to convey).

-Ok. Can you come in at 2:40 p.m.?

-Of course.

-Ok. Your appointment is at 2:40 p.m., with…Dr. Kwak.

- (…)