Happy 2554th Birthday!

Friday was Buddha's 2554th birthday which, along with Christmas, is one of the two major religious holidays in Korea. (Twenty-nine percent of Koreans are Christian; 22% are Buddhist. The rest have no religious preference.) Buddha's birthday celebration includes several lotus lantern festivals, lantern-making workshops, street performances, and a huge parade. Unfortunately, I caught on a little late and we missed the big parade and the lighting of the lanterns (which is done the Sunday before his birthday) but I hope we'll catch it next year because it looks amazing from the pictures I've seen.

Luckily, I did a little research and discovered that Bongeunsa, one of the biggest Buddhist temples in Seoul, was still hosting its exhibition of hand-made paper lanterns. So Saturday afternoon, David and I ventured across the Han River to visit the temple. (It's right across from the COEX mall, the biggest mall in Asia.)

After pulling into the parking lot, David and I were greeted by this statue of Buddha in the center of a pond filled with lotus flowers. I was quite surprised how big and spacious the temple complex was and how much greenery surrounded the individual buildings. It's always rare to find open space and nature in such a big city like Seoul.

Of course, there were the millions and millions of lotus lanterns hanging up. The white tags include people's prayers or blessings. Sadly, workmen were already taking down many of the lanterns. I wonder how many were originally hanging.

Since we drove and parked at the temple, we didn't enter through the main gates of the temple complex, but if we had, we would have been greeted by this beautiful walkway.

This small building was situated on a hill, overlooking the main entrance of the complex. One thing that constantly fascinates me about Asia is the juxtaposition of the traditional relics of the past with the modernity of a 21st century metropolis. Though we were surrounded by beautiful examples of traditional Korean architecture and the peace and tranquility that nature brings, all around us were skyscrapers and the noises of cars and buses clogging up the traffic-jammed city streets of Seoul. It's not unlike sitting deep within Central Park and having the bustle of New York City momentarily fade away. Somehow, it's very comforting to find places that make me forget that I live in city with 20 million other people. I take them where I can find them.


Inside this building, there were many people bowing over and over again to Buddha. It just looked exhausting to me, but then again, I'm creeping into that stage of pregnancy where sitting down and standing up are becoming more and more laborious.

I love old doors. I can't say why.

At the back of the temple complex is this massive statue of Buddha (and more lanterns!). David and I sat down here to rest and enjoy a little picnic lunch. I sure hope Buddha doesn't mind that we ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Cheetos at his feet.

Can I just take a moment to express my joy over the arrival of Spring? I'm so glad it's here. Finally. It was a long, cold winter.

And Summer? Please don't hurry. It feels just fiiine right now. I don't need your heat or humidity or monsoon rains just yet.

Our last stop after walking around the whole complex was this building where they typically hold academic lectures and cultural courses but which was currently housing the absolutely breathtaking hand-made lanterns designed by the monks.

This lotus flower lantern was by far my favorite. Some were incredibly abstract and others were just a little silly (like the recreation of Dokdo). But all were simply amazing to see in person.

A Korean warrior and a drum.

A woman.

A sunrise.

And wings, which greeted us when we first walked into the room.

It started to sprinkle just as we were leaving the temple, so we headed back home instead of venturing to Jogyesa (the other big Buddhist temple in Seoul) but I'm glad we got out and saw Bongeunsa while the lanterns were still there.

David and I keep saying we need to be more proactive about going out and seeing the sites of Korea. I hope now that spring is here, we'll make more of an effort, but next weekend we'll be taking a quick 4-day tour of Beijing that was organized by David's command. We thought it'd be nice to get in one more trip before the third trimester sets in and traveling is a no-no. Luckily the flight to Beijing is only two hours and the whole trip (meals, hotel, tours, and activities) have been arranged for us. I can't wait to see the Great Wall and the Forbidden City! Expect a ridiculous number of photos when I return.

Food Candy: Pizza Magherita

You can't live in Italy for four months without coming away with an almost sacred reverence for the true Italian pizza with it's delicately thin crust and fresh mozarella. I'd never found a pizza (either homemade or restaurant-produced) that came close to the wonder of a real pizza magherita, until my sister (my recipe provider) sent me Cook's Illustrated's "Italian Favorites" collection. This pizza has quickly become one of David and my favorite meals. So quick, simple, and delicious. Almost, almost as good as the real thing. So it must be shared.

Pizza Dough

1 1/4 teaspoons instant yeast
1 cup water, room temperature
1 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 cup cake flour
1 1/2 teaspoons table salt
2 teaspoons sugar

In a liquid measuring cup, whisk yeast into water to dissolve. In food processor fitted with metal blade, process flours, salt, and sugar until combined, about 5 seconds. With machine running, slowly add liquid through feed tube; continue to process until dough forms satiny, sticky ball that clears sides of workbowl, 1 1/2 to 2 minutes. (Add more dough or water as needed.) Divide dough in half and shape into two smooth, tight balls. Place on floured counter or baking sheet, cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.

Here's my dough after rising for about 4 hours. I think the mixture of regular flour and cake flour really allows the dough to retain it's delicate silkiness without becoming too heavy.

Pizza Topping

1 (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes (I prefer Muir Glen organic tomatoes)
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 small garlic clove, minced
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil leaves
Table salt
8 ounces fresh mozzarella, cut into 1-inch chunks
2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil

In clean bowl of food processor, process tomatoes until crushed, 2 or 3 one-second pulses. Transfer tomatoes to a fine-mesh strainer set over bowl and let drain at least 30 minutes, stirring occasionally to release liquids. Just before shaping pizza rounds, combine drained tomatoes, sugar, garlic, some of the basil, and 1/4 teaspoons salt into bowl.

Here are my tomatoes draining into a bowl. Straining the tomatoes helps prevent the topping from becoming too liquidy and making the crust too soggy, especially in the center. Could this topping be any easier? It's awesome.

Okay, so now we're ready to shape the dough and get to cooking. Set your pizza stone in the oven and preheat the oven to 500 degrees. (It takes my oven about 15 minutes to get hot enough.) Dust dough liberally with flour and transfer balls to well-floured work surface. Press one ball into 8-inch disk. Using flattened palms, gently stretch disk into a 12-inch circle, working along outer edge. (I often use a rolling pin as well.) When the oven is hot enough, remove the pizza stone and place the dough onto the stone. (This is made significantly easier if you have a pizza peel, but you can make do without it too.) Spread a thin layer of half of the topping onto the dough, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Put in the oven and bake for about 5 minutes. Remove the pizza from the oven and top pizza with half of the cheese chunks, spaced evenly apart. Return pizza to the oven and continue cooking for another 4-5 minutes, until the cheese is melted and started to bubble.

Here's all my ingredients getting ready for the pizza making.

When the pizza is done, transfer to a cutting board, sprinkle with fresh basil and 1 teaspoon of olive oil and a pinch of salt. Slice and serve immediately. Repeat with the second pizza.

Doesn't it look fantastic? And it's so quick and easy too, especially if you make the dough in the morning and it's already risen and ready to go when you get home from work.

Here's David all excited for his first bite of pizza. (Excuse his cheesy face....he likes to be silly.) Despite its thin crust, the pizza is quite filling. David and I generally only eat one pizza between the two of us (unless we're feeling especially hungry) and save the second one to make for lunch (or dinner) the next day. Two pizzas is more than adequate to feed 2 adults and some children.

Enjoy!

Food Candy: Chicken Tikka Masala and Naan Bread

I already posted the recipe for chicken tikka masala before but it bears repeating because we love it that much. I just wish it weren't so time consuming, otherwise I'd make it every week.

Doesn't it look absolutely delicious? Yes, yes it does. And it is. It's the best kind of food candy there is. Flavorful, comforting and buttery. It just melts in your mouth.

The best part is the chicken because even though it gets the nice, crispy outer skin, it's still moist and delicious inside. You won't be sorry if you spend the time to make the recipe.

Now, on to the second best part: my sister sent me a naan bread recipe (also from Cook's Illustrated) that beats all the other naan bread recipes I've tried before.

2 ½ cups bread flour, plus extra as needed
¼ cup whole wheat flour, shifted
1 package instant yeast (2 ¼ teaspoons)
2 teaspoons sugar
Salt
1 cup water, at room temperature
¼ cup plain yogurt
1 tablespoon olive oil, plus extra for the bowl
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

1. Combine the flours, yeast, sugar, and 1 ½ teaspoons salt in the bowl of a standing mixer and mix with paddle attachment until blended, about 15 seconds. Add the water, yogurt, and olive oil and mix on low speed until a shaggy dough forms, about 30 seconds.
2. Replace the paddle with the dough hook and knead the dough on medium speed until smooth and glossy, about 8 minutes, adding additional flour in 1-tablespoon increments, allowing 20 seconds between each addition as needed for the dough to clear the sides of the bowl, but stick to the very bottom. Transfer the dough to a clean work surface and lightly knead by hand for 1 minute.


3. Shape the dough into a large ball, transfer to a large, lightly oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and place in a draft-free spot until the dough has doubled in size, 45 minutes to 1 hour. (At this point, the dough can be punched down, wrapped tightly in a plastic wrap, and refrigerated for up to 2 days).
4. Turn the dough out onto a clean work surface, cut into 8 equal portions, and roll each portion into a round ball. Set the balls aside on the counter or baking sheet, and let rest for 10 minutes.
5. Working with 1 ball of dough at a time, lay on lightly floured work surface and roll into a 6-inch circle using a rolling pin (sprinkle with flour if dough is sticky). Set the rounds aside on the floured counter or baking sheet.
6. Heat a heavy 12-inch skillet over medium high heat until hot, 5 minutes (if using lighter pan, heat for only 2-3 minutes). Working with one piece of dough at a time, lift the dough and gently stretch about 1 inch larger, and lay it on the skillet. Cook until small bubbles appear the surface of the dough, about 30 seconds. Flip the bread and continue to cook until the bottom is speckled and deep golden brown in spots, about 2 minutes. Flip the bread again and cook until bottom is speckled and deep golden brown in spots, 1-2 minutes longer.


7. Transfer the bread to a wire rack, brush lightly with butter, season with salt and let cool for about 5 minutes. (I usually don’t use the butter and salt unless I am serving it immediately and depending on how I am using it.) Repeat with the remaining dough rounds. Wrap the bread loosely in a clean kitchen towel and serve immediately. (The bread can be kept in an airtight container and stored at room temperature for 2-3 days. Reheat in microwave or in 300 degree oven until warm).

In exchange for teaching my friend how to make chicken tikka masala, she gave me a jar of ghee, which is absolutely delicious on naan bread.

It also makes for great left-overs. Just saying.

Food Candy: Gnocchi with Tomatoes, Bacon and Spinach

Remember how I'm pregnant? Remember how I also live in Korea? It's sometimes not the greatest combination, especially when I'm craving the things that can only be obtained in America. I do crave normal things which can typically be purchased at the Commissary (like ice cream, Doritos and corn dogs.....yes, corn dogs) but what I fantasize about are In & Out cheeseburgers, Chipotle's chicken burritos, Olive Garden's chicken con broccoli, and El Ranchito's rolled tacos.

But since I cannot have these things, I have to turn instead to what I call food candy. Food candy are those few meals that I make on a regular basis that I ALWAYS enjoy eating. It doesn't matter what time of the day it is or how hungry I am, these meals always satisfy and always sound delicious. So, in an effort to minimize my fantasies about In & Out and Chipotle, I'd like to do a series of posts about my food candy recipes.

One of my favorite fast, quick, and easy recipes is Eating Well's Gnocchi with Tomatoes, Pancetta, and Wilted Watercress. Except that I can't find pancetta, so I use bacon instead. And there's no watercress to be had either so I use spinach. And the Commissary here, to my ever-lasting consternation, does not carry gnocchi, so I make my own. Gnocchi are Italian potato dumplings and they are divine (when done right). You can generally find them fresh, frozen, or packaged in the regular pasta aisle. But if you want to try making your own (which is a bit time consuming), Eating Well has another great guide to making homemade gnocchi.

Here's my gnocchi getting ready to be boiled. Whenever I make gnocchi, I make several batches which I then boil and freeze so I always have gnocchi on hand whenever a new craving kicks in. Now onto the recipe (which I've changed a bit to suit my tastes and available ingredients):

Gnocchi with Tomatoes, Bacon, and Spinach

2-4 ounces pancetta, chopped (I use 3-4 slices of bacon)
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 large tomatoes, chopped (I find regular tomatoes break down too much and make the pasta a little soupy, so I use cherry tomatoes instead which keep their shape and juices in tact.)
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper
2 teaspoons red-wine vinegar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 pound gnocchi,
4 ounces spinach
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1. Put a large pan of water on to boil.
2. Cook pancetta/bacon in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it begins to brown, 4 to 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook, stirring, for 30 seconds. Add tomatoes, sugar and crushed red pepper and cook, stirring, until the tomatoes are almost completely broken down, about 5 minutes. Stir in vinegar and salt. Remove from the heat.
3. Cook gnocchi in the boiling water until they float, 3 to 5 minutes or according to package directions. Place spinach in a colander and drain the gnocchi over the spinach, wilting it slightly. Add the gnocchi and spinach to the sauce in the pan; toss to combine. Serve immediately, with Parmesan.

So I gather up my ingredients.

And chop up the tomatoes, bacon, and garlic. By the way, that garlic zoom thingy (in the right hand front corner) is amazing. So fabulous at mincing garlic.

Then I brown the bacon, add garlic and tomatoes until they break down. I boil the gnocchi and then strain it through a colander filled with the spinach and then add it back to the pan with the bacon and tomatoes and top with Parmesan cheese.

And voila! A tasty, delicious, and health(ier) meal. And it takes less than 30 minutes to throw it all together. Plus, it makes the perfect amount to feed both David and me. If it weren't 7am right now, I'd be getting mighty hungry.

Grandpa Hayman, 1921-2010

My Grandpa Hayman passed away last Wednesday. It was expected and yet unexpected. About a month after celebrating his 89th birthday in February, doctors diagnosed my grandfather with pancreatic cancer and gave him a few short months to live. I just didn't expect that it would be weeks instead of months. For some reason, I had really hoped that he would live to see his six forthcoming great-grandchildren born in the next six months; in other ways, it's comforting to know that even though Grandpa Hayman is no longer with us, so many new children will soon be with us and that Grandpa's memory will live on.

I have a close relationship with my Grandma and Grandpa Hayman because, for the majority of my childhood, they lived close by. They were there at my concerts and recitals, graduations, baptism, birthdays, and wedding. Spending time at Grandma and Grandpa's house is always a treat....and not just because they always have a very well-stocked cupboard full of cookies and candies. It's very hard to be so far away from home and to not get to attend his funeral, which was held yesterday. But I want my chance to remember him just the same because there's a little part of him in everything about me.

Grandma Hayman, David, me, and Grandpa Hayman at my wedding

-- Bow ties. My grandfather wore only bow ties. Who doesn't love a cute little 80 year old man in a bow tie? He always had a clear sense of style and no one could deter him from that.

-- His sense of humor. Grandpa told some of the corniest jokes on earth, but they always made me laugh because he told them so well. The last few years his memory started to fade and so I heard several of them many times over, but they never ceased to make me giggle.

-- His intelligence and wit. Grandpa was a smarty-pants and spawned a family of fellow smarty-pants. Education and academics always had a high priority in our family and I think that had a lot to do with my grandpa. He went to college at 16 and was preparing to start his Ph.D at Ohio States when he was drafted during World War II. He was 21.

-- After the war, Grandpa returned to California to run the family business: an appliance store. For some reason, I've always been fascinated by the thought of my grandfather selling televisions, refrigerators and washing machines in the 50's and 60's during the height of postwar America's consumerism. I studied the the impact of television on our society and culture--particularly on American home life--in grad school and I always felt a certain sense of awe and pride in the fact that my grandfather was a part of this new culture and the rise of the middle class in postwar America.

-- His wandering feet (the original wandering feet). My grandparents caught the traveling bug before commercial flying was a common practice. My grandparents have a big map of the world in their den with little stick pins of all the places they've been....and it's covered. They've been everywhere--absolutely everywhere. All seven continents (including Antarctica) and over 160 countries. I grew up listening to their adventures in foreign lands, the exotic places they'd been, the foods they'd eaten, the people they encountered. I learned that the world is both so much bigger and so much smaller than I had ever imagined. Places like Egypt, China, South Africa and India never seemed so far away because I knew my grandparents had been there. My grandpa always said that the three favorite places he had ever visited were Switzerland, New Zealand, and Antarctica. Switzerland, because it was the most beautiful; New Zealand, because it had the nicest people; and Antarctica because it was the most unique. It's been my goal for a long time now to match my grandparents and visit all seven continents. Four down, only three more to go.

-- His appreciation of nice cars. Hayman's like to drive. And we like to drive fast. Who else has a grandfather who used to own a red Corvette?

-- His stubbornness. While Grandpa mellowed significantly in his later years, I know the Hayman's have a long-running stubborn streak that comes from his side of the family.

-- His absolute devotion and love for my Grandmother. If there is one story I never tire of hearing, it's the story of how my grandparents met during World War II. My grandpa--an educated Jewish boy from Southern California--was sent to Utah after being drafted by the Army for training, while my grandma--a teenage Mormon girl from a tiny little town in Idaho--was living in Utah with relatives. She and her friend snuck into an USO dance (you had to be 18 to enter) and met my grandpa there. It wasn't until they were already engaged that my grandfather learned that my grandmother was actually only 15 (he was 22) but that didn't stop them. They were married in March of 1943. Grandpa was sent to Alaska for the remainder of the war and my Grandmother moved to California to live with her new in-laws and to finish high school and, as she puts it, "to finish growing up". My grandpa wrote my grandmother everyday that he was gone. (I really hope she kept all those letters.)

Throughout my life, I watched the love and devotion my grandfather had for my grandmother. He loved his family but his whole world revolved around my grandma, who, as any of her children and grandchildren can attest, is the kindest, most loving woman in the world. As his memory started to fade the last few years, my grandmother would have to gently remind him of many things and his response was often: "I don't remember much, but I do remember that I love you."

There's a line in one of my favorite book series that always makes me cry. The main characters are about to be separated before the start of a war. The husband is sending his wife away to safety while he prepares to return to the commencing battle and almost assuredly, his death. When contemplating his fate, he says:

"But there is one thing that shall lie in the balance. When I shall stand before God, I shall have one thing to say, to weigh against the rest....Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well." (Dragonfly in Amber, pg. 698)

I always think of my grandfather when I read that, for if there is one thing that he did, and did well, it was in loving my grandmother, the rarest of women, for 67 years. I can only hope that David and I will have a chance to be together for that long and that, after 60 years together, he'll still look at me the way my grandfather looked at my grandmother, and remember that he loves me.

23 Weeks

I hit my 23 week mark yesterday and I can't believe my pregnancy is already half over. I feel like I just peed on a stick yesterday and yet, here I am, 5 months pregnant already. The great news is that I feel terrific (the only troubling aspects of pregnancy so far are the increased number of trips to the bathroom and the occasional leg cramp) and the baby is continuing to grow and weighs over a pound now. I feel him moving every day now, though somedays he's more active than others.

Before you get excited over the use of the pronoun "he," the frustrating news is that the doctor couldn't tell if our baby is a boy or a girl at our ultrasound last week. The baby's back was toward us and his legs were closed. Sometimes it looked like a girl (as in, there was nothing to see between the legs) and other times it looked like there was a bump (but that could have been the umbilical cord). Since the doctor also couldn't get a good look at the baby's four-chamber heart, he wanted us to go to a Korean hospital for a second ultrasound since they have better machinery that can get clearer pictures. The even more frustrating part is that I've spent the last week and a half jumping through all these hoops and calling 20 times a day just so that I can MAKE the appointment. Maybe tomorrow will be my breakthrough and I'll actually get to schedule an appointment. As of right now, I have no idea when I'll have another ultrasound or if we'll get to find out the sex of the baby (since I've heard various rumors that Korean doctors are not legally allowed to tell you).

I've been trying really hard not to be so frustrated or disappointed, but.......it's obviously not going so well.

UPDATE (Friday): I had my regular check-up today and went into the Tricare office at the hospital and was able to make my next ultrasound appointment. It's next Tuesday at some random Korean hospital so yaaaay!

But on to happier topics. Here's the bulging belly. I didn't think there was a lot of difference between now and 20 weeks but when I looked at the photographs back to back, I was amazed at the change.

And here's me with my other baby. Suyom's not really a fan of being held but I'm slowly wearing her down. Poor cat doesn't know what's coming. I think having a baby in the house is going to scare her quite a bit. But hopefully, she'll get over that too.

Cherry Blossoms

It's cherry blossom season in Asia. Many of our friends traveled all over Korea to attend cherry blossom festivals but David and I decided to have our own little festival right here in Seoul. We found a nice little street that was lined with trees and walked up and down it. It was really exciting. And festive. No seriously, cherry blossoms are gorgeous and they always make me smile every time I see a tree in all its pink glory.

That big building in the background is the War Museum. It's actually a fascinating museum. I just forgot to bring my camera when we went. I must bring it the next time I go.

There's something so sweet and ethereal about all those tiny pink blossoms. But David keeps wondering, "What's the point?" I mean, the blossoms only last for two, maybe three weeks and then they fall off and are replaced by leaves.

And it's a very good thing we went last week, because most of the trees have already lost their blossoms now. Still, it was gorgeous while it lasted.

Ticket to Ride

I keep ticket stubs. I don't know why I started to do it, but I've been doing it for quite some time now. I can't say I've kept all my ticket stubs, but the heart-shaped box I keep them in is positively overflowing with tickets. Feeling a bit nostalgic, I pulled out my ticket box the other night and started looking through its contents. It brought back so many memories.

Like seeing Titanic in 1998. This is the first ticket stub that I kept. I didn't particularly LOVE Titanic the way some people did but it did seem like a momentous occasion--it was THE movie to see--and I think that's why I kept the ticket around for so long. Eventually, I added many, many other tickets to the pile. The vast majority of my ticket stubs are for movies and it's fun to remember all the movies that I went and saw. I eventually started writing who I went and saw the movie with on the back of the ticket, but that's been a recent development.

If I hadn't kept all my movie stubs, I wouldn't know that I spent $53.25 to see Moulin Rouge eight times in the theatres. I was a little obsessed with that film. But I have never seen a movie more than twice in a theatre since then. (I miss the dollar theatre.) But there are more than just movie stubs in my box.

There are stubs for plays, like when my sister, cousin Kerrie, and I saw Les Miserables in London during our summer trip to France and England.

There are plane tickets to and from some of the exciting places I've visited. (I don't have a lot of my plane tickets because I often tend to lose them before I make it home to store them in my box. That, or they become the bookmark for whatever book I was reading at the time and then got tossed away.) But here are tickets to Taipei, Rome, Barcelona, and Seoul. Apparently, I fly through Atlanta a lot. (Mainly because I often fly Delta.)

There are tickets to buildings, historic houses, and museums. I like my matching tickets for the Empire State Building and Taipei 101. [Former] tallest buildings in the world unite!

There are tickets to document my shame, like the little *Nsync obsession I had back in my freshmen year of college. Let's not even discuss how much money I spent to see them in concert three times. (Once in San Diego, once in Salt Lake and once in Las Vegas.) The middle ticket--to see *Nsync perform at the Olympic Medals Ceremony during the Salt Lake Olympics in 2002--was actually free. That was one crazy night. Seriously. One of my best stories ever.

There are a whole slew of tickets to see some of my favorite bands. Of particular value to me is the ticket signed by Raine Maida, the lead singer of Our Lady Peace, my one-time favorite band. My best friend, Kara, and I drove up to the House of Blues on Sunset Blvd. in Los Angeles (yeah, my parents were thrilled about that adventure) the summer we graduated from high school. We managed to work our way almost to the very front by the stage and at the end of the concert, some random people gave me their extra backstage pass. I ran into the backstage room, gushed over Raine Maida and the rest of the band like the teenage fangirl that I was and got them to sign our album covers and tickets. I was beyond elated.

There are tickets to more somber occasions, like attending a session of General Conference in the Conference Center for the first (and only) time. (I did go to one conference session in the old tabernacle before the Conference Center was built too.) That building is amazing and huge inside. My friend's parents had gotten tickets from their home ward in Connecticut and the seats were really close to the pulpit.

And then there are the tickets that remind me of sad events, like this ticket to Don Giovanni which I saw the night my dad called to tell me that my Aunt Fran had passed away. Sitting through a three hour opera after receiving that kind of news is no easy feat. But then again, I find sitting through a three hour opera under any circumstances to be a little difficult sometimes....(I've tried, but opera is just not really my thing.)

But then, there are those few special reminders of days of pure joy, like the nametags that David and I wore in order to be sealed and married in the San Diego temple.

In graduate school, I took a material culture class taught by the curator of medicine at the Smithsonian's Museum of American History. She was intensely fascinated with ephemera, those fleeting scraps of paper like tickets, pamphlets, broadsides, and posters, that were never meant to last. Most people would call them insignificant, just things to be thrown away when their purpose and timeliness have passed. But these ephemeral items have great value to the historical record--and to my personal life. Some of my tickets are crinkled or fading or falling apart and yet, I could never part with that heart-shaped box. That box contains more than just scraps of paper; it holds pocket-sized memories and the shape of my past.

Won and Me

I have a problem with won. I've lived in Korea for nearly 9 months now and the problem has only gotten worse, not better. Won looks like Monopoly money to me and therefore has absolutely no connection to real money to me. I think the reason it seems so unreal and unmoneylike to me is that the currency is so inflated. One thousand won is less than a dollar. (The current exchange rate puts W1,000 as equal to $0.85.) Ten thousand won is less than ten dollars. Normally, I'd hear a number like 10,000 and freak out, but here, it's nothing. And so it doesn't faze me to spend 60,000 won because it has no connection to the real American money behind it. I don't think, "I just spent $53" (which in reality, I did), but "60,000 won? That's it? I've still got 40,000 won left in my wallet. Maybe I can buy Park Place."

The other funny thing about won (as depicted above) is that despite their high currency, most Koreans don't use bills bigger than the 10,000 won. They finally just introduced a 50,000 won note but most of the banks still tend to only give out 10,000 notes. (Which gets a little ridiculous when your rent is over 3 million won a month. Luckily, we pay our rent in dollars and our real estate agent exchanges it for us but seriously? Can you imagine paying your $3,000 a month rent in 300 $10 bills?)

It's funny because some things in Korea are insanely expensive. I'll look at a price tag and my head wants to implode trying to compute how much 2,450,000 won would translate into American dollars. But there are other things in Korea that are insanely cheap but because the price tag still says "2,000 won," it still takes me a good little while to process that that's only $1.70.

Right now, it's strawberry season in Korea. The markets and produce trucks are lined with packages and package of strawberries--some small and overcrowded and others big and delicately packaged--and one of the markets near our house has been practically giving them away for free.

So Thursday night David and I bought 3 packages loaded full of fresh and juicy strawberries for 5,000 won. Yes, we spent $4.50 on the number of strawberries that would have cost us well over $12 in the States. So this weekend, we've enjoyed strawberry and nutella crepes, a strawberry and cream cheese tart, strawberry and blueberry smoothies, and pancakes with fresh strawberries. I think I need to go buy 12 more cases before the prices go back up.

Because right now, I'm really loving the won. And the strawberry induced heaven I'm currently inhabiting.

A Sad Tale of Sick Kitty Woe

Spring has finally come to the Korean peninsula and since David had today (Friday) off from work, I had hoped that we could finally get out and see some more sights in and around Seoul (since we've been mostly homebound since the winter set in). Instead, I spent the day with a sick cat.

We noticed on Wednesday night that Suyom seemed unusually lethargic and turned up her nose at her wet food so we decided to watch her on Thursday. She slept all day long (rotating between our bed, the couch and her cat bed) and refused to eat or drink water, which had us really concerned. She felt much warmer than usual and was uninterested in anything around her. I decided that I'd call the vet first thing Friday morning if she didn't seem any better in the morning. She spent the whole night sleeping next to me (normally she gets up and leaves halfway through the night) so I knew she was still not feeling well. I called the vet on base as soon as I got up. They had had a cancellation that morning and so I quickly got dressed, loaded Suyom into her cat carrier and set off directly for the vet's.

After waiting awhile, the vet determined that Suyom had a fever of 104 degrees (a cat's normal temperature is 102) which meant that Suyom had either an infection or inflammation but they couldn't be sure without a blood test. Unfortunately they couldn't do bloodwork at the vet clinic on base so I had to put Suyom back in her carrier, walk to a Korean vet clinic off base, cross two very busy intersections and attempt to have a conversation with the Korean vet about my cat's bowel movements in very bad English. They wrapped Suyom in a blanket and went to draw some blood but she was fighting and clawing her way out of there (don't blame the poor cat) so they clipped her poor claws. After wrapping her little leg with a bandage, Suyom and I had an hour to wait for the results to come back so I decided to head back to base to eat (since I needed all the won in my wallet to pay for the blood test). Just as I was about to enter the base, the Korean vet called to say that they needed MORE blood so I crossed back over the two busy intersections again and walked back to the vet clinic. (And I had so worn the wrong shoes.) Her meows this time were so pitiful and heartbreaking that I nearly started to cry. But she made it through and once safely ensconced back in her carrier, we set off again for the base.

By this time, it was 11:30a.m. and I had yet to eat anything. I was one very unhappy pregnant woman, carting around one very unhappy and picked-on cat. We made it back to base and I had just enough time to eat before I got a call saying the blood results were ready to be picked up and so I walked back to the clinic, crossed two very busy intersections with my abused cat and picked up the results and paid them 90,000 won for the privilege. (And more Korean/English language barrier fun ensued when I asked for a receipt.)

It was nearing one o'clock by the time I got back to the vet on base. But the vet was pleased that the blood work showed that there was no infection in Suyom's kidneys or liver and that it was probably just inflammation. But since Suyom hadn't had any water in at least 24 hours, they wanted to give her an I.V. to pump her up with fluids before sending her back home which would take about an hour.

I went home, picked up David and we headed back to the clinic at 2:30 to retrieve our poor cat. The vet had shaved one of Suyom's arms in order to put in an I.V. but the vessel was blown (from the blood taking) so they shaved the other arm, but that vessel wasn't viable either so they waited for us to get back to show us how to inject fluids under her skin ourselves and to administer her antibiotics. So, for the next three days, David and I get to stick needles into our cat and pump her full of fluids and for the next 2 weeks, we get to force-feed banana flavored antibiotics down her throat. It should be fun. If my arms aren't scratched to pieces by the end of the weekend, I'll be very pleased indeed.


Though she looks rather pathetic here, she is doing a lot better now. I just hope she won't hate us forever for all the trauma we put her through today. It can't be any worse than carting her halfway around the world with us. And she's (mostly) forgiven us for that.