Or babies. Babies and little, little kids are fascinated by my blond hair and blue eyes and they will STARE. I'll sometimes wave and say, "Anyang!" and they'll flip out. It's cute.
Occasionally I'm "lucky" enough to make a new "chingu" or friend. This usually means someone will strike up a conversation with me and with their meager English skills and my even worse Korean we have a mini life connection. Most of the time it's pretty fun.
Kendra and I once met two elderly gentlemen who told us about how they were retired Korean army veterans (which, in a country where every man has to serve their country for I believe at least a year in the army, it was rather interesting to see two men who had made a career of it). They had fought in Vietnam. I think they were paratroopers... they talked about jumping out of airplanes with pantomimed machine guns. They welcomed us to the country and hoped we had a happy time while we taught English.
One day coming home from church, Kendra and I met a man who had had a little too much soju with his lunch (seriously, it was like 2pm and he was already weaving). The man thought we were missionaries. Well, we're Mormon, but not missionaries. I guess the only time you see two white girls together in skirts below their knees in Korea is when you see Mormon missionaries. I can respect that. We had to convince him that we weren't from Utah (well, at least I'm not). It was interesting because I haven't met many Koreans who know that much about Mormons and this guy knew about Utah and everything. It was funny.
There are other fun incidents, but today I had a singularly interesting experience.
I was on my way home from church when this older gentleman struck up a conversation sitting next to me on the subway. I really wasn't it the mood to struggle through a conversation with this guy and I gave monosyllabic answers and then I'd look away. I was polite, but I think it was obvious I didn't want to talk. He was not deterred. Okay. That's fine. Yes, I'm American. Migook-saram. Yes, I'm a teacher. At a hagwon. CDI. Nice to meet you.
The conversation was much more complicated than that since his English was pretty limited and he was pantomiming and using English and Korean interchangeably. Frustrating and a little annoying but I didn't want to be rude. He decided we were "best friends" and I laughed and said, "Uh, okay."
Then it got awkward. He started asking about "bap" which means rice and is often used to talk about food in general (so I've heard from Korean friends... I really am pretty vague on many aspects of Korean culture) and I was like, "What? Does he want to know if I like Korean food?" I was confused so he started pantomiming eating and pointing to me and then him. I thought, "Is he trying to ask me to go eat with him? That makes no sense... Wait. Now he is calling me beautiful. Is he asking me OUT?!"
I pretended as if I didn't understand (and, frankly, what if I was wrong?) and then he said. "You, me? Cuhpee (coffee)? Datuh (DATE)?"
Yes. I got hit on by an old Korean man the subway.
Why me?
I didn't smile, didn't laugh (nothing to seem like I was enjoying myself) and said, "No."
BUT HE DIDN'T LET UP. Weren't we chingus? Today? Tomorrow? I said no again and this time crossed my arms in an "X" across my chest in the Korean "NO" symbol.
I was less dramatic than Wonder Woman here. But it's basically the same arm gesture.
Then one stop before where I usually get off, I said, "Oh! My stop! See ya!" He followed me to the door of the train and I was thinking, "Oh, NO, dude. See how fast I will smack you down if you follow me off this train!" But he just said goodbye again, told me I was beautiful again and then I left.
*sigh* And this right after a lesson at church about how important marriage is and (by default) dating. The singles are often encouraged to say yes to first date requests because, you know, it's hard to work up the courage to ask someone out.
I think they'll understand why I said no in this case.
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