An Awkward Date & Signing Away My Life

June 26, 2012June 1, 20135 Comments

A couple awkward things happened in the past couple days. Won’t you let me tell you about them?

1. There is a little maintenance man who works at my school, and who also happens to live in Danggogae up in North Korea where I live. About a month or so ago he sold me my pretty purple bike with a basket. Ever since then he has been so nice to me and literally every time he sees me starts rambling mumbo jumbo that I don’t understand, throws his hands up in excitement and then brings me some kind of treat. First it was a peanut butter sandwich that he probably got from Family Mart down the street, then it was a Capri Sun, then it was a ginger drink, then an energy Bacchus drink, ice cream and a cup of ice water, then it was 2 pieces of caramel candy. THEN he wanted to get 피자 (“peecha”…or pizza) with me in our hood. After asking me (thru Jin) a couple times, I obliged. So we met this past Sunday at 3pm in the Dontgogay. This is the story of how I was courted by a tiny little ajussi (old Korean man).

First we ate Nangmyeon (냉면) which is delish. It’s buckwheat noodles in an icey cold broth with a hard boiled egg, julienned cucumber and pears and then you put vinegar and dijon mustard in to taste. Tis the perfect summer meal! Anyways, we went and ate that first. He talked to me, I didn’t understand, he slurped uncontrollably, I tried to remain unnerved by it.

Next he bought me an iced latte from the 17th Street coffee shop that I sometimes go to. I drank, he smoked a cigarette and tried to talk with me some more. He basically said Itaewon (the foreigner area) over and over again because he knows I went there one of many weekends.

THEN after motioning to me if I wanted any home supplies (I didn’t), we went over to the THE school. Pizza School that is. He motioned for me to pick out any pizza I wanted, so I chose cheese pizza. This is him sitting and waiting for it to finish cooking. That’s his jazzy bike in the foreground.

And to conclude our “date,” he put my pizza on the back of his bike, walked me in a circle through some janky Danggogae alley way, back to the station and to the hill before I turn off to go to my apartment. Gladly he did not walk me further so he doesn’t know where I live. Then he told me “bali bali” (kinda like hurry hurry, go go), handed me my pizza and I was off on my way.

It was slightly awkward, but it’s interactions like this that make me so happy I’m living abroad. It’s so interesting to me how two people literally can not effectively communicate because of a thing called language. So simple yet so complex. Good sociology project I reckon.

2. For those who are out of the loop, I renewed my contract and signed my life away to Korea for one more year. The first step in the renewal process is to get a medical check. You know, to make sure I don’t have AIDS and to see if the crack is all out of my system. The whole check consists of peeing in a cup, giving blood, getting a chest x-ray, getting my blood pressure, vision, hearing, height and weight checked, and being “interviewed” (if you can even call it that) by a doctor. All he was concerned about was if I had any cocaine or other narcotics exposure and if I had the AIDS. Thank God I’m not a dirty waygook!

Anyways, my male co-teacher, Mr. Jang, took me and it was slightly awkward, but whatever in the grand scheme of things. The part that really gave me a good giggle was when he directed me to the room I was supposed to go change into the x-ray gown in. He points and whispers to me “now you must go in and take off your clothes.” Normal co-teacher chatter. Afterwards, he continued to stand behind me through each process. He honestly could have just sat in the waiting room while I handled it. I’m a big girl. He almost walked me right into the women’s restroom stall until I put a hand up and said “I got it.” He got the message.

So yea, next on the list of renewal to-dos is to renew my visa at immigration. Now all you people who have not come to visit me have a whole year longer to figure out how to get to the far east. Make it happen.

La Bamba Mi Papa

June 17, 2012June 1, 2013Leave a comment

If I had to pick one song that will forever remind me of my dad it would be La Bamba. Yes, La Bamba. When I was little Dani Tami sitting in the back seat of Papa Schaeff’s black Grand Marquis (later to be stolen) I used to request that La Bamba be played on repeat any and every time we were in the car. It was my favorite song. My dad had a cassette tape that he used to play. As soon as the song would finish I’d yell out “PLAY AGAIN!” and he would play it again…and again. I’m sure he hates the song now. However, if and whenever I do get married, I can guarantee there will be a jazzy father-daughter dance to La Bamba. I can’t wait.

Today is Father’s Day back home, so the spontaneous no 2nd period, no 3rd period and no 4th period, came as a pleasant surprise, and called for an earlier Skype call home to Papa Schaeff and the rest of the whack job Schaeffs! I’ve been kind of bad about talking to my dad this whole time that I’ve been abroad, so whenever we do talk it’s always a pretty long catch up sesh on the men (if any) in my life, where I’m traveling to next and where I want to go after, if I’m (still) sick, how the house is doing, what movies we’ve seen…. all while watching my dad make stupid faces and hold the camera so close to his face that I can see up his nose.

Let’s be honest, my dad is awesome in the cookiest way possible. They say that as women we typically tend to look for men who remind us of our father, or who have qualities that they possess. I guess that is true, because no other man in the world would put me or my family before himself. Who would work so damn hard that it stresses him out more than it should, but does it because he loves his kids and family more than anything in the world. So why wouldn’t we look for that? He may not be able to afford everything I’ve ever wanted in my Princess world, but fundamentally, the things that make me the person I am today definitely came from the kind of father that I grew up having. We have our fair share of problems as a family (who doesn’t), but no matter what’s happened I’ve never once doubted the dedication my dad has to our family. He (and his once-upon-a-time fro) truly are the best.

Some of my most favorite and fantastic stories while growing up are about my dad. HELLO San Francisco China Town/Days Inn/15 seater van fiasco. I think I said too much. But that story never EVER fails to make me die hysterically of laughter. In short, I love Papa Schaeff so much and consider myself one lucky lass to be his daughter. So now let’s take a little journey through the many hairstyles and wardrobes that make him so awesome.

Little Garry Schaeffer and my Grandma Janet and Grandpa Harry back in Pittsburgh.

He was so hip, and loved to draw cubes. On everything.

After driving a taxi in NYC and Chicago, he embraced the fro, dropped an “R” in his name (why?!), moved to Hollywood and took some commercial head shots.

And some dramatic, pensive head shots.

Played a milkman.

And posed like this in front of cars that matched his pants.

Then in 1983 he met Mama Schaeff at a party. They did a silly little dance that sista and I like to imitate all.the.time, and 6 months later decided to get hitched in Vegas. Here’s how the rest of his life has unfolded since having children and living in Los Angeles.

Aunt Ruby came to my tea party birthday party in 4th grade. She ran around the tea party in jogging shorts and full make up and wig.

He took me toy shopping in the most stylish way possible.

We went for a dip and a sunbathe.

And education always came first (I was reading about stocks).

He drove us on many cross-country journeys, and took us on boats to exotic places and Catalina where we washed a hot day down with ice cream and short shorts.

Education paid off and he congratulated me for drinking my way thru college.

He sent me off like so on vacations to exotic lands.

And then hugged me as I bawled my damn eyes out when I moved across the world.

Papa Schaeff rocks, and I will be listening to La Bamba all day in his honor. LOVE YOU!!

The Big Guy’s Birthday By The Sea

June 3, 2012June 1, 2013Leave a comment

Last, last weekend was the big guy’s birthday, and by big guy I mean Buddha, duh, I live in the far east now. What his birthday meant to us waygooks was a 3 day weekend and another opportunity to get the hell out of Seoul, so off to the beach we went! That group of us lookers above bought some bus tickets and went to Gangneung beach in the eastern province of Gangwon-do. This is supposed to be one of the most beautiful beaches in Korea, and it was wondrous!

I convinced my co-teacher/basically friend, Jin, to come and get out of the city with us and meet some fun waygooks. I was so happy when she came in on Friday morning and told me she bought her bus ticket. She was super nervous and scared that her brain would hurt after a weekend of only English, but was totes in for a bomb ass weekend. I think this was probs the perfect group of people for her first truly foreigner filled hang sesh. And it was. She said it was her favorite weekend ever 🙂 Mission accomplished. Here she is playing a brutal game of Ring of Fire aka Kings.

We booked 2 nights stay at a very classy pension called Fantasia. In case you were wondering, all of our fantasies were fulfilled here. A pension is basically a big empty room and they give you blankets, pillows and mats and you all snuggle together on the heated ondol floor (fun minus the heat permeating your body when it’s already a million degrees outside). They also provide you with a delicious array of body sprays, lotions, toothbrushes and everything you will need to beautify yourself after a roll in the hay with your nearest and dearest. Err.

Here are two lovebirds getting our bedding dirty.

The rest of the weekend consisted of adult chicken fights:

Sumo wrestling, fully equipped with Gavina, our sexy ring girl:

Manly workout seshs in the sand:

An assload of sunbathing:

Strumming some ukulele tunes:

We also made (well, Jeewon the boy scout) a couple bonfires that went into the wee hours:

Watched our male friends try to desperately pick up chicks and fail miserably:

We even crashed a fancy Korean night club (where men and women specifically go to be set up with each other). Needless to say, our rambunctiousness and stage hogging was well out of the ordinary for their nightly patrons. Jeremy even gave them a beautiful ballet show. It was a treat to all the senses.

Overall, I’d say the weekend was a success, and by success I mean I was successful in breaking my first bone in 28 years. If it wasn’t for a frisbee game of Tips, Jeremy yelling “DIVE JEW!” and my baby pinky toe colliding on the dive with Jeewon’s ankle of steel, I wouldn’t be hobbling right now. All in a weekend’s fun I suppose. Here’s a picture of me in my cast after being forced into it. It has since been ripped off against doctor’s orders, and toes taped instead of this overcompensating sweat machine. In 3 weeks time I will be good as new. I hope.